Текст книги "Mark of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

Соавторы: Diana Rowland
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Ryan yawned. “Yeah, well, I don’t. I’m gonna dig out and head back to my hotel room and hope that Garner doesn’t snore too loudly.”

I gave him a withering look. “Don’t be an idiot. I have a guest room that no one ever stays in. In fact, you will probably be the first guest to ever stay there.”

“Cool,” he said, eyes crinkling. “My whining was suitably pathetic. I’ll be more than happy to christen your guest room.”

I laughed. “Go. Next door down the hall. It’s the one with the bed in it. If you get to the room with the bathtub, you’ve gone too far.”

He flashed me a grin and left. My own smile faded as he continued on down the hall and my left hand crept up to feel the unblemished skin on my shoulder.

What was this going to cost me? Rhyzkahl’s comments about marking me as his own haunted me.

Or had I already paid the price?

CHAPTER 21

The house seemed unbearably quiet after Ryan went off to get some sleep. And after standing in the foyer for several minutes, I realized that it seemed so because, up until that point, everything had been going so quickly. I finally had a chance to breathe, but at the same time I knew that I really didn’t have the luxury of time to relax. The Symbol Man was still out there, and so far I’d failed utterly to find any of the people who were next on his list.

Except the one girl, Belle, and that had not exactly gone well. The persistent sick knot in my stomach warned me how she’d probably be found.

It was early afternoon, which meant I had at least five more hours of daylight. After the experience with the demon, I wasn’t too keen on going out without backup, and Ryan would most likely sleep for at least several hours.

But there was plenty that I could do without backup. I went and took a quick shower, scrubbing the last of the dried blood off the nonexistent wound on my shoulder, then dressed in jeans and a 16th Annual Law Enforcement Torch RunT-shirt, looping my holster through my belt. I jotted a quick note to Ryan, telling him where I was going and to call me when he woke up, then I gathered up the copies of the pictures of the victims-to-be and headed to the station.

I spent the next several hours making more copies of the pics and then passing them out to the patrol guys, giving them a brief rundown of why I needed to get in touch with these people.

“I recognize a couple of these faces,” one of the officers coming on duty said, shuffling through the pics. “But I couldn’t tell you their real names.”

“Have you ever arrested any of them?” I asked eagerly.

He shrugged. “Might have. But I’m not sure when or where.”

But that gave me an idea. I thanked the officer and then called Detective Harris.

“Harris here,” he answered on the second ring.

“Harris, it’s Kara Gillian. If I send you a composite of the pics from Cerise’s house, do you think you could pass them out to the deputies over there to see if any of your guys recognize anyone?”

He was silent for a moment, then, “That’s a damn good idea, Gillian,” he said, to my intense shock. “Use the troops. Definitely. Send them over.”

I hung up the phone, bemused, then quickly emailed the collection of pics over to Harris. Finally, it felt like I was doingsomething. I spent about an hour typing up some notes, then shut down my computer to head back home. Ryan would probably be awake soon, and then the two of us could continue canvassing for these people.

My phone rang just as I was locking the door to my office. “Detective Gillian,” I said.

“Hey, Detective Gillian, this is Deputy Keller with the sheriff’s office. I think we found one of your people.”

“Wow, that was fast! Where are you? Which one?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s not so great, really. We’re out on Highway 1790.”

Highway 1790 was a long, empty stretch through the swamp at the north end of the parish. The sick knot in my stomach tightened. “Shit. Don’t tell me.”

He sighed. “Yeah, she’s dead. Sorry.”

“I’m on my way.”

I sent atext message to Ryan and pulled up at the scene about half an hour later, just as dusk was beginning to paint the sky in shades of purple and orange. Detective James Harris was already on the scene—which I’d expected since the body was found within his jurisdiction. But I was somewhat surprised to see Agent Zack Garner there as well, standing by his car and talking on his cell phone.

He hung up as I approached. “Ryan’s on his way. He and I were grabbing dinner when he got your text, and he said he’d meet us here.”

I caught myself in time before saying something like, Oh, I figured he’d still be asleep. That would be a sure way to give people the wrong impression.

“We’ve been discussing the case most of the afternoon,” Zack continued, absently waving a mosquito away from his face.

He must not have slept long at all, I decided. But it was probably better that he not spend too much time at my house. “Come up with anything new and interesting?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He just filled me in on what happened to you two this morning.”

“Yeah, it was pretty wild,” I said, keeping my response vague since I had no idea what Ryan had told him. Which story did he give him—the demon attack, or the one we told everyone else?

Zack’s eyes met mine. “He told me what reallyhappened,” he clarified. The flashing red and blue lights of the patrol units reflected oddly in his eyes, making them seem for an instant as if they had a reddish cast of their own. Then he smiled and the effect was gone. “Sounds dumb, but I sure wish I’d been there to see it for myself.”

“Not dumb at all,” I said, but my gaze slid to Harris. He was deep in conversation with some of the detectives from his own department. “Does he …?”

Zack snorted. “No. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it even if he saw it with his own eyes. He’d find some way to explainit.”

“That sounds about right,” I said, relieved that Harris had not also been privy to the real story. I couldn’t explain why, but I didn’t have any worries about Zack knowing the truth. I just somehow knew that he gotit.

“And here comes our prodigal son,” Zack said, looking beyond me. I turned to see a dark Crown Victoria pulling to the side of the highway behind my Taurus.

Ryan exited his car and walked up to us. I noticed that he’d found the time to shower, shave, and change clothes and still managed to look fairly rested. He gave a nod to Zack, then looked at me, expression sober. “I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“I do too,” I replied, though bad feelingwas putting it mildly.

This stretch of highway didn’t have much in the way of landmarks. A long, boring stretch of asphalt with swamp on either side, it was where people went when they wanted to see just how fast their cars would go. The only thing people had to watch out for was the occasional wild boar or alligator in the road. At least once a month, deputies were dispatched to a single-car accident along this stretch. A collision with wildlife at ninety miles an hour usually had pretty drastic consequences.

I approached the body, surprised that it had even been noticed. Probably more than one car had passed the bloody lump on the side of the road and assumed it to be an animal that had lost its battle with a vehicle. My throat tightened as I got closer. Her death would have likely been far more pleasant if she’d merely been hit by a car. The coppery smell of blood mingled sickeningly with the dank stench of stagnant water and composting vegetation from the nearby swamp.

It was definitely Belle, the girl in the picture—ugly gashes marred the young cheeks beneath the slanted eyes, piercings in her brow and lip still in place. The body flowed and flickered with arcane markings and, unlike the last body, I could easily read these runes. I stood a few feet away, eyes narrowed and fists clenched.

“What do they say?” Ryan asked softly from beside me.

“Taunts and threats,” I said, voice tight. “Some indication of what was done to her, runes of suffering and torment.” And a glyph that included my own name wound through the others, but I wasn’t sure I was going to share that with Ryan. The killer knew I was a summoner, and now he was telling me that it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t strong enough to stop him.

“He’s baiting you,” Zack murmured.

I glanced sharply at him, unaware that he’d been standing right behind us. But then I realized that Ryan had probably brought him completely up to speed, including all of the arcane aspects. “He’s an asshole,” I growled in reply, then crouched by the body, ignoring the buzz and bite of mosquitoes. I noticed immediately that the injuries were markedly different from those of the other victims. Cruder, more savage. No precise slices or burns. Instead, she’d been nearly ripped apart. My stomach clenched as I took in the parallel slices across the girl’s torso that had disemboweled her. I recognized them easily as claw marks, but I wondered what Dr. Lanza would make of them. The symbol had been slashed messily into her thigh, like an afterthought.

“They didn’t take their time with this one,” I said, voice hoarse. “This was a slaughter.”

Ryan growled something under his breath, and I didn’t need to hear the words to be able to agree with the meaning. I shuddered, then narrowed my eyes at the tracks and impressions in the dirt that surrounded the body. “The demon brought her here.” I stood. “See those tracks?” I pointed out the deep indentations in the ground. “It landed there and then pushed off again to take flight, just dumping her body here.” But then I looked more closely at the tracks, bothered.

“What is it?” Zack asked.

“It… doesn’t make sense,” I said. The tracks were clear—most certainly not made by any manner of human. “A kehzawouldn’t be strong enough to fly all the way here with a burden like a body. Hell, they’re barely strong enough to fly at all. They can only do short flights.”

“Like when it was swooping down at us?” Ryan asked with a scowl.

“Exactly. So there’s just no way it could have flown here to dump the body.”

Ryan glanced around to make sure no one else was close enough to overhear our conversation. Fortunately, Harris was still pontificating to his own people. “And I guess it’s pretty silly to think that the killer drove the demon and his victim to someplace close, just so that it could fly over and deposit the body.”

“Right. It doesn’t make any sense. And the timing doesn’t work either. We were at the diner barely fifteen minutes after Belle called. Even if she’d already been brought out here, there’s no way that the kehzacould have flown back to town in time to attack us. And it couldn’t have killed her and dumped her afterward, because it had been sent back to its own plane.” I cursed softly. “That mustmean that there’s a second demon, a higher-level demon—probably a syrazaor a reyza. Either of those would be more than strong enough to snatch her from that street and fly her all the way out here to kill her. The kehzawas just there to find out more about me.”

“And using that syrazaor reyzagives the killer an alibi,” Zack pointed out. “If he lets the demon snatch his victims and take care of the bodies, he can be anywhere else.”

That was an unpleasant thought.

“How could he have sent the kehzaafter you andalso had this other demon to take care of this body? I thought you said that it was almost impossible to summon and hold two demons?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I did. It is. Crap. There must be another explanation.” There was one, but it was one that deepened the feeling of dread within me.

“I don’t like the look on your face, Detective,” Ryan said.

“Damn. It’s possible —possible—that he has formally allied with the higher-level demon, which would mean it wouldn’t require the same level of effort to summon.”

Kind of like what you could have with Rhyzkahl, the thought crept in. But, no, this was different. This was an indication of a degree of cooperation that was rarely seen between summoners and the beings they summoned. The thought of a demon and a summoner working togetherto summon and control a Demonic Lord spoke of conflicts that ranged far beyond this sphere. In fact, having a higher demon as an ally would probably be the only way a summoner could ever hope to succeed in summoning and binding a Demonic Lord.

“Okay, this is starting to feel really, reallybad,” I said, as I stepped away from the body.

“Care to share?” Ryan said. “I mean, besides the obvious stuff that even I can figure out.”

Harris chose that moment to wonder what the three of us were up to. He huffed up to us, shirt straining.

“I’ll take care of this,” Zack murmured. “Ryan can fill me in later.”

I gave him a look of relief as he neatly intercepted Harris and deftly guided him away from us. I could hear him asking the rotund detective about the traffic that usually traveled the highway and then could hear Harris eagerly launching into a story about drug trafficking and bike gangs.

Damn. Talk about taking one for the team!I motioned with my head for Ryan to follow, walking well away from the others to a point near where the ground turned soft and the swamp began. “If he’s allied with a demon,” I said, speaking low and quickly, “it’s almost definitely a syrazaor a reyza—eleventh– or twelfth-level demons—since the lowers don’t have enough control or power to be capable of a worthwhile alliance. And the only reason one would ally with a human, even a summoner, would be if it was worth his while. If he was going to get something out of it.” I frowned and stuffed my hands down into my pockets. “In every summoning, a summoner has to give the summoned creature something in return. It’s totally a power struggle, and the creature is bound, but only a small portion of that binding is arcane in nature. It’s all about the honor. During the summoning, after the initial binding, the summoner offers the demon something that would be considered valuable to the demon—enough to satisfy their bruised honor—and what it is depends on the demon.”

“What sort of something are we talking about?”

“Like I said, it depends on the demon. Some of the smaller ones like chocolate or beer. Others like books. Some want information. Others merely want the summoner to spill his or her blood to show their commitment to the summoning. It depends on the demon.”

“Okay,” Ryan drawled. “And what could our Symbol Man have offered this demon in exchange for his help?”

I dragged a hand through my hair. “Power, of some sort. Certainly not here in this sphere, because that would be worthless to a demon below the level of a lord, but most likely a chance at power in the sphere of the demons.”

“Ah. Sort of like the Klingon method of promotion.”

I stared at him blankly. “The what?”

Ryan’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious. As over the edge as you are, you don’t watch Star Trek?”

I scowled. “I’m not over the edge, and I do so watch Star Trek. Did. A couple of times.”

Ryan rolled his eyes dramatically. “And here I thought you were my perfect match.” He grinned at me while I struggled for a response. “The Klingon method of promotion,” he continued, “is where you kill your superior to get their job.”

“Oh. Right.” Funny. He didn’t looklike a nerd. “Okay, yes, that might be it in a way, though a reyzacan’t actually becomea lord. It would be like a panther trying to become a tiger. But it could be one of the lord’s generals. Or, more likely, it’s a rival general working for his own lord to bring down this other lord. My aunt tells me that the power struggles in that sphere are constant and devious.”

Ryan frowned. “Is there a way to find out who the demon is?”

I started to tell him that there wasn’t, then paused. There was a way, but, holy shit, it was risky.

“Kara? What is it?”

“Well,” I said, “I can’t tell, but another higher demon—or a more powerful being than that—could probably read the traces on the body and be able to identify it.” I thought about Rhyzkahl’s statement about his mark on me.

“So you could summon a demon and ask it?”

“Er, well, not exactly.” I glanced up at the sky, even though I knew perfectly well that the moon was still a few days away from full. “Higher demons almost always need to be summoned on a full moon, plus there would be the problem of having the body nearby so that it could be examined. That’s in addition to the basic problem of being able to summon and control a higher demon in the first place.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“Actually … I think I know a way to do it.” I bit my lip. “I mean, I can’t summon a reyza, but I might be able to get some information.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Call your Demonic Lord?”

“Not callhim,” I said. “I’m not that foolish. But, um, maybe I can get him to come to my dreams again.”

“You do realize you’re talking about taking a nap in the same room as the body?” he pointed out.

I grimaced. Maybe there was another way?

“How do you know it will work?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t. But I’ve asked him questions before. That’s how I found out about the runes on the other victim.”

“Okay, so other than napping in a morgue, it’s pretty risk-free, right? There’s not much he can do to you in your dreams that you can’t just wake up from.”

“Right. Sure,” I said in what I hoped was a convincing manner. Only problem was, it wasn’t true. Promises could be made, debts could be earned, patronages formed. Summoners had to abide by the same code that the demons were held to, or else they could not be trusted. Dreams might not be physical, but they still held great peril. Well, not physical most of the time, I thought as I flexed my healed shoulder.

“I think,” I continued after a moment, “that I might not have to be in the same room as the body if I’m trying to speak to the lord in my dreams.”

“That would make things a hell of a lot easier,” Ryan said dryly.

I gave a halfhearted shrug as I watched the sheriff’s office crimes-scene techs swarm over the area, taking measurements and photographing the body and its surroundings. It would be interesting to see what explanation was put forward for the tracks by the body.

“Well, I’m not certain it’ll work,” I said, “but I’m going to have to sleep at some point anyway, and he made a comment last time about being in control of the reality …”

“So he can whiz you there dream-speed or something.”

“I guess. I hope.” I rubbed at my eyes. “There’s still so much I don’t know. I feel like I’m fumbling along most of the time.”

He gripped me by my shoulders and turned me toward him. “Hey, don’t fail me now. You’ve brought us this far.”

I mustered a wan smile. “I won’t fail you. We’re close. I know it.”

“The killer is resorting to taunting you, which means he’s definitely going to slip up soon.”

I resisted the urge to slump. “I sure hope so.”

He gave my shoulders a squeeze, then released me. “Come on, I’m taking you to bed,” he said, grinning wickedly.

“Jeez, don’t say that too loud,” I said, smiling despite myself. “People will start talking.”

CHAPTER 22

Ryan pulled into my driveway right behind me, getting out of his car just as I was exiting mine.

“I do hope you realize that I’m not leaving your house tonight,” Ryan said before I could say a word. “Not until you’ve woken up from your encounter with this Demonic Lord.”

I allowed my protest to die unvoiced. “I can’t see that there’s going to be a problem. I mean, he’s helped me twice now, and I think he’s going to keep being cool to me since he wants me to call him. But, yeah, having you nearby is probably a good idea.”

He gave me a quick grin. “I’m going to have to start leaving a change of clothes and a toothbrush at your place if this keeps up.”

I smiled and quickly turned away, feeling an unfamiliar flush rising. What the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t as if I’d never spent the night with a man. Hell, I’d had boyfriends. Okay, not too many, but still. I’d just never had a guy as … everything … as Ryan pay this much attention to me. Smart, good-looking, witty, charming …

Stop being stupid. He’s just working on the case. That’s all this is. He thinks of you as a partner. I jammed the key into the lock of the back door and entered the kitchen.

“So explain something to me,” he said as he followed me in and closed the door.

“Explain what?” I asked as I opened the fridge and peered at the available offerings. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

“The whole good-and-evil thing with regard to the demons. I always had the impression that all demons were evil.”

I grabbed a brick of cheddar. “Well, yeah, because that’s what they say in Sunday school.” I closed the refrigerator door with my hip, then snagged crackers and a knife. “But, see, these demons are not the demons of the religious mythos.”

He watched me as I set the cheese and crackers on a plate and placed it on the table. “Then what are they?”

“They’re other-planar creatures,” I said, as I carved a slab of cheese from the brick and piled it onto a cracker. I gestured at the plate with a help yourselfmotion as I took an undainty bite.

He looked doubtfully at my exceedingly plebeian hors d’oeuvres. “Do you always buy your cheese in five-pound bricks?”

“It’s only two pounds,” I replied after a few seconds of chewing. “It was cheap. And I like cheese.”

“But … cheddar? Mild?” He looked pained.

I glared at him and defiantly cut another piece. “It was cheap. Do you have a problemwith my cheese?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, giving a mock shudder. “So. Other-planar creatures? Explain, please?”

I set the knife down and held my hands up in front of me, one above the other. “Think different dimensions. Spheres. Planes of existence. Whatever you want to call it. We live in one, and they live in another. These two planes often converge in such a way that a person with the ability to open a portal between them can summon a creature from their world to ours.”

“And how do people know if they have the ability?”

“Well, there seems to be a genetic factor, so summoners will usually keep an eye on their kids or grandkids when they hit their teenage years. Othersight comes first, so the easiest thing to do is to leave a big shiny ward somewhere and then see if the kid reacts to it.” I grinned. “It can be a bit dramatic.”

Ryan gave a snort of laughter. “I can only imagine.”

“Anyway, after that much is established, the summoner will usually have a demon make the assessment as to how much ability is there.”

He tapped the table. “What if there’s no parent or grandparent to monitor the kid?”

“Well, that’s kinda what happened with my aunt. She figured out that she could see things and feel things that other people couldn’t, so she went to the library and started doing research.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Please don’t tell me she found a book called Demon Summoning for Dummies”

I laughed. “Not quite, but I think I may write that someday. No, it was noticed what areas she was researching, and, well … she was directed to a summoner who could mentor her.”

“Wait. Who noticed? Is there some sort of worldwide surveillance?”

“No, there’s no powerful Illuminati-ish conspiracy thingy.” I grinned. “Tessa got lucky. She was at the New Orleans public library, and one of the librarians saw the books she was pulling. The librarian happened to be a summoner.” I spread my hands. “This woman was elderly and was basically ‘retired’ from summoning, so she couldn’t take Tessa on as a student, but she was able to find someone who would.” I didn’t elaborate on how much luckhad actually been involved. Over the past few years I’d started to suspect that the demons had a hand in finding people who could summon, but I had no proof and little more than a gut feeling to go on.

He remained silent for a moment. “And how does good and evil come into this?” he said finally.

“It doesn’t. I mean, not in the way that we define it. The demons are no more evil than witches are evil. And, trust me, every practitioner of Wicca I know abides pretty strictly by the canon of Harm None. For the most part, it’s possible to make a general categorization and say this demon or that lord is evil, or this one is good, but all it means is that the behavior and actions of the demon fall into a pattern we as humans find acceptable or unacceptable. There’s really so much more involved.”

“Such as?”

“Well, what we might find unacceptable is merely a manner of dealing with issues of supremacy and honor for them. And vice versa. Something we find acceptable could be anathema to them, simply because of the way the particular act or whatever is performed.” I shook my head. “Their moral and honor code is incredibly complex. Debts of honor are considered absolute, and to refuse to pay a debt of honor is evil to them.” I spread my hands. “If you somehow screw up and put a demon in a position to lose honor, you’re going to get slaughtered in simple retaliation.”

“So they’re pretty solid on the concept of revenge, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice casual. I’d learned how accepting demons were of revenge when I was twenty-three, still a rookie cop. Evidence in a molestation case had been thrown out and the perpetrator had walked. I hadn’t been involved in the case, but I knew the defendant, had known him twelve years earlier when I lived in his parents’ house for a month.

I told Tessa about it, about him. Told her everything. And on the next full she’d summoned a syrazawho, after it had been explained to him what was needed, gave his service as a gift. “Yeah, demons take matters of vengeance very seriously.”

Ryan picked up the knife and cut a piece of cheddar, obviously reluctant to soil his palate with my store-brand cheese but apparently hungry enough to risk it. “That sort of thinking could work with humans, too, you know,” he said. “Evil is often a matter of perception.” He looked askance at the cheese, definitely trying to imply that my cheap mild cheddar was evil.

“Well, yes,” I said as I took the knife from his hand. “But in order to do my job, I try to stick with the perceptions of a civilized society. Murder, bad. Hurting people who’ve done nothing to wrong you, bad. Taking things that you have no right to, bad.” I smiled sweetly and stabbed the knife into the brick. “Making fun of other people’s cheese, bad.”

He laughed. “All right, all right. And catching serial killers, good, right?”

I leaned back in my chair. “Well, I sure hope so.”

“So, do you need to do anything special for Rhyzkahl to come to your dreams?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. He’s come to me three times since … er … the summoning. Three weeks ago.” More than three weeks ago, which meant that we had less than a week until the full. Time was running out and too many questions remained unanswered. “The best I can hope for,” I continued, “is to try to fall asleep with a strong impression that I want him to come to my dreams.”

He looked at me doubtfully. “Is that anything like calling him to you?”

“No,” I said, with more conviction than I felt. “A call has to be … more intense and desired.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You know, I’m still not keen on this. But I guess it’s the only way we’ll get any answers.”

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “I can’t think of anything else to do right now.”

“And I guess it wouldn’t be good if I was in the same room as you?”

I blinked at him for a second before I realized that he wasn’t saying what I thought he was. No, he wasn’t coming on to me. He was talking about security. Sleeping on the floor or something. “Ummm, no, that would probably throw things off.”

“All right, then I’ll be down the hall.” He gave me a wry smile. “I guess it’s time for you to hit the sack.”

Hitting the sackwas easier said than done. Or, rather, the hitting-the-sack part was easy, but the actual falling-asleep part was trickier. And I didn’t dare take anything narcotic to help me along, since that would just about guarantee that he wouldn’t come. But thoughts of the case kept springing into my mind, coupled with thoughts of Ryan. Damn it, I need to be thinking of Rhyzkahl!I sighed and flopped onto my back, forcing myself to close my eyes and keep them closed. I’ll count my breaths, I decided. And think about Rhyzkahl. That’s not calling him.

I concentrated on taking long, steady breaths. One, two, three … Think about those eyes of his … eight, nine, ten … and that beautiful face … fifteen, sixteen, seventeen … and that aura of power… twenty-two, twenty-three …

“I am here.” The resonant voice filled the room.

My eyes snapped open. I’d actually fallen asleep? I sat up quickly. Hot damn, it worked!I thought, with a mixture of elation and relief.

He stood at the foot of my bed, motionless, head lowered and azure eyes drilling into mine. An eerie pale light surrounded him, shimmering like hot asphalt, coming from nowhere and everywhere. He didn’t move, and my elation began to shift to uncertainty as his aura touched me. I didn’t feel the killing rage and fury that I’d experienced before, but there was a simmering intensity about him, a disdain and slow wrath that sent a crawling unease through me. This was far different than any prior dream visit.

“I … I’m glad you are here,” I said hurriedly.

He remained silent, but it felt to me as if the menace in the room increased a breath. Was I just being paranoid? He’d never been threatening to me in any of the other dream visits. I gulped. “I, uh, could use your help … please. We have another body that has runes on it … and, well …” I faltered as his continued silence and intense regard began to unnerve me. I took a deep breath and forged on, despite the sick feeling growing in my belly. “Well, we– Iwas wondering if you could tell which demon left the markings.”

He growled low, and the hair on my arms stood on end. Shit. This was not going at all the way the previous encounters had.

“You defy me, defy my desire to be called to you in the flesh,” he snarled, eyes flashing with deadly intensity, “yet you still expect me to serveyou?” His lip curled. “Under yourterms?”

Shit. “No. No!” Shit shit shit. “Lord Rhyzkahl, I meant no disrespect—”

“Did you not?” The words cracked out like a whip. He took two steps toward me, and I found myself drawing back against the headboard in instinctive reaction to his anger. My heart slammed in my chest. I was an idiot! All of my harping about how important honor was, and here I was trying to find a way to get around it, to get the lord to do what Iwanted.