Текст книги "Mark of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

Соавторы: Diana Rowland
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CHAPTER 26

I went home and took a long hot shower to wash the stench of death away, then forced myself to go to bed at a reasonable hour. I knew that I would need to be rested if I was going to summon. It galled me to basically stop my investigation—especially after the chief’s ultimatum—but rationally I knew that I needed to get some sleep, whether I summoned or not.

But after I crawled into bed I lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, unable to shut off my racing thoughts. It felt almost strange not to have Ryan in the house. I was getting too used to him being around, and that was disturbing too. I liked him, and I wasn’t used to that. He’s just a coworker, a team member. Stop reading too much into it. He’s just paying attention to you because he’s fascinated by the summoning stuff.

Was that all there was to it? Rhyzkahl’s cryptic warning still left me with an uneasy ripple. Not that I had any reason to trust Rhyzkahl … but at the same time he had no reason to lie to me, and his ilk didn’t lie unless it fit into their whole code of honor.

I eventually managed to fall asleep and even slept solidly, with no nighttime visitors and no dreams that I could remember. I woke before my alarm went off at six a.m., which was also about five seconds before my cell phone rang.

I rolled over and snatched it off the nightstand, groaning when I saw that it was the Beaulac PD number. “Detective Gillian,” I said.

“Hey, Gillian.” I recognized the familiar voice of Captain Turnham. “Got some strange news for you.”

“Strange? Or bad?”

“Well … not really sure. I got a call from the chief this morning, asking questions about your task force.”

I sat up, sighing. “Yeah, I know. He thinks I’m in over my head. He told me that I was off the case and that he was assigning Pellini and Crawford to the team, but I wheedled a twenty-four-hour reprieve to prove that I belong on the case.”

“Those weren’t the questions he had.”

I frowned. “What questions, then?”

“Well … mostly questions about Agent Kristoff. Has he been spending a lot of time at your house?”

I could feel my back tightening in anger. “A lot of time? If you two are wanting to know if we’ve been sleeping together, the answer is a) no, and b) not that it’s any of your fucking business. Sir.”

“Gillian, chill.” I heard him exhale. “That’s good to know, but not for the reasons you might think. The chief apparently talked to one of his FBI buddies, and … well, no one at the FBI has heard of Special Agent Ryan Kristoff.”

I could only blink in shock for several seconds. Finally I found my voice. “I’m not sure I understand, Captain. Do you mean no one in the New Orleans office has heard of him? Or do you mean that he’s on a secret task force and so his name is not well known?”

“I mean that the chief did some checking, and there’s no Ryan Kristoff who works for the FBI.”

“Then who the fuck is he?” I practically shrieked.

“That’s what we need to find out.”

I was already off the bed, snatching for jeans and clean underwear. “I’m on my way in. Fuck. Fuck!”

“Stop by the jail first. There was a message at the desk for you about some prisoner that you put a hold on.”

I went cold. “Michelle Cleland?” Shit! I told Ryan about her last night!

“I have no details. Just the message to call or go by the jail when you got the chance.”

I hung up the phone with a terse good-bye and finished dressing as quickly as possible, struggling to control the horrible sick feeling. Ryan wasn’t FBI? Fooled again, I berated myself as I drove at unsafe speeds to the jail. How about, from now on, if someone shows interest in you, just know for a fact that they can’t be trusted and it was all bullshit?At least I hadn’t slept with Ryan. Small comfort there. But I’d thought he was my friend. Was I really that gullible and desperate? Ugh. Don’t answer that. There had to be some other explanation. Had to be. If he wasn’t FBI, then there were very few reasons why he would have attached himself to me. And within that short list of reasons was one that was terrifying. He knows everything about me. Everything!

My thoughts were still in turmoil when I got to the jail. I entered through Booking, flashing my ID to the bored officer at the front desk, then took the stairs to Main Control two at a time.

The rotund sergeant looked up from the row of monitors as I entered, then lifted both hands. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Shit. So Michelle Cleland bonded out?”

Sergeant Mallory shifted awkwardly in his chair. “Umm, no. PR.”

I stared at him, aghast. “She was allowed to be signed out on a personal recognizance? That’s insane!” That meant she hadn’t even been required to put up bond money, just needed to have someone “responsible” sign for her to vouch that she would show up for court. “How?”

Mallory sighed. “You know it’s always a battle with overcrowding here. The chief called and said that the fire marshal was on his ass again and told us to PR anyone under Code Six.”

I sank into a chair. A Code 6 was a repeat or violent offender. Unfortunately, the scenario that Sergeant Mallory referred to was pretty common. To control jail overcrowding, release priority was given to arrestees who weren’t considered a significant danger to society. And, unfortunately, Michelle, who was merely a drug addict and sometime prostitute, wasn’t a danger to society. But she’s in significant danger!

“Fuck. Fuck. All right, did she give an address when she signed out?”

Sergeant Mallory handed me the paperwork. “No address, but we have the name of the person who signed.”

It didn’t register with me at first. Maybe because the name had been on my mind already. But on the third reading it finally sank in.

The name of the person who had signed Michelle out was Ryan Kristoff.

CHAPTER 27

I didn’t go back to the office. There was no point. Instead, I headed home. Right now all of my focus and energy needed to go into preparing for what was possibly the most important summoning of my life. He was right, I railed, sternly telling myself not to start crying again. Rhyzkahl was right. Ryan was using me. He was too young to be the Symbol Man, but it wasn’t a stretch at all to deduce that Ryan had been working withPeter Cerise, wanting a share of the power that would come with a captive Demonic Lord.

“And he broke my fucking door too,” I grumbled as I entered and locked the back door behind me. Looking down the hall, I had an excellent view of my front door, still barely held in place by a couple of nails. I never had managed to get a sheet of plywood to cover it, but I had plenty of scrap wood out in my shed. I checked the clock in the kitchen. Almost ten a.m., and I had a ton of shit to do to prepare for tonight. First things first. Make sure no one can come in. I pulled open a drawer in the kitchen, removing a hammer and a box of nails. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would work.

My cell phonerang several times while I was cleaning and preparing. I glanced at the caller ID and listened to the voice mail, and after the third call from the PD with the message to contact my captain I finally relented—partially. I called the dispatcher and asked her to give Captain Turnham the message that I was following up on a big lead and that I was fine but would be out of touch for a few hours. I didn’t want to speak directly to the captain, didn’t want to answer any probing questions about what sort of lead I was following or what I was doing about the Symbol Man or Ryan. There was no way to explain to him that I was doing the only thing I knew to do to stop him. Or at least stop him for now. It’s just buying me more time, I know. Eighteen months to figure out a better plan. I couldn’t even get worked up over the knowledge that I was certainly off the case, and probably out of Investigations as well. Right now the most important thing was to make sure that Rhyzkahl couldn’t be summoned and bound.

I got a call from Tessa, which I ignored as well. I’ll call her right before I summon. I wouldn’t tell her what I planned to do, but at least I would have a chance to talk to her before …

I paused as I sketched the diagram onto the concrete of the basement floor, hand tightening on the chalk. What I was about to attempt was insanely risky—more so than summoning a twelfth-level demon. The magnitude of it was just now sinking in. I was going to summon Rhyzkahl, a Demonic Lord, and I knew I didn’t have the means or power to set any manner of protections that would stand up to him. The only thing I could do was trust in that difficult code of honor, trust that he would spare me because I would—hopefully—again save him from being bound, though this time intentionally instead of accidentally. I couldn’t bind Rhyzkahl or even protect myself arcanely. I could only tell him why I’d summoned him in such an insane way.

But even if I die in the attempt, at least it’ll buy everyone else more time. It wasn’t an easy thought. I’d never wanted to be any sort of martyr, and I desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Protect and serve. Yeah, right. But at least Rhyzkahl wouldn’t be bound by another summoner, and he also wouldn’t be in this sphere unrestrained—which could be even worse.

I shuddered, then forced myself to continue with the diagram, doing my best to lose myself in the tasks of preparations.

I decided thatit would be safest to summon the Demonic Lord well before midnight, summoning him before the Symbol Man—and Ryan—could. I heard the hall clock chime nine times as I stood in the basement. Everything was in place. The candles were set out in perfect alignment, the diagram chalked with painstaking precision, the oil and the razor-sharp knife set just beyond the perimeter of the diagram.

I returned upstairs. Now it was time for the mundane preparations. My will was already on the kitchen table, and I pulled a page out of my notebook to begin a letter to my aunt. Of all the people in the world, she was the one who needed to know what I had done and why and who the killers were. Tessa wasn’t a police officer, but I knew that if I didn’t survive this summoning, Tessa would be the next best to try to stop them.

I finished the letter and folded it into an envelope, hand trembling as I sealed it and wrote Tessa’s name on the outside, too aware that the letter was painfully terse. This is going to be fine. I’m still going to be preventing the binding, just like last time. Only difference is that this time I’m aware of it. I slid the envelope underneath the copy of my will, set a mug on top of both, then went to the next step in my preparations.

I turned the water in the shower as hot as it would go, forcing myself to stand under the near-scalding water as I ran through the mental exercises that were meant to calm and aid focus. I wasn’t sure just how much focus I’d managed by the time the hot water ran out, but at least my hands weren’t shaking as much anymore.

Only one thing left to do. The phone call to Tessa. I wasn’t about to tell Tessa the specifics over the phone, but I at least wanted to …

I want to say good-bye, I realized. Just in case. I understood so much more about my aunt now. Understood why she was acerbic and difficult, understood why she rode me so hard. At least I could tell her that I hadn’t screwed up the summoning. She’d probably viewed that as much her failure as mine.

The symbol for the voice mailbox was lit. I hadn’t realized that she’d left a message when she called earlier. I quickly dialed the mailbox to play it back, hoping that she hadn’t called to tell me she was going to be away from her phone for a while.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s me. I just wanted to wish you good luck in your summoning tonight.” She probably thinks I’m summoning Kehlirik again, I thought. Under any other circumstance she’d be right too. “Not that you need it,” the recording continued. “You’re so damn talented. I guess I don’t tell you that enough. I also don’t tell you enough that coming to live with you was the best thing that ever happened to me. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. And I should have. I whined for too long about having my life upended, but the truth is, I didn’t have much of a life before you came into it.” She gave a small laugh. “Okay, this has become unbearably sappy. Sorry about that. Call me when you finish up. Love you.”

I hit the button to save the recording, a silly smile on my face and a sniffle in my nose. I hit the speed dial for her number, mentally shifting what I’d originally planned to say.

A deep rumbling voice that was most assuredly notmy aunt’s answered.

“Greetings, little summoner.”

Cold filled me and my grip tightened convulsively on the phone. That’s a higher demon, I thought wildly. Shit, did Aunt Tessa summon one tonight? But why would it be answering her phone?My thoughts whirled chaotically for a short instant, forcefully denying the other possibilities.

“I would like to speak to my aunt,” I managed to say, more calmly than I had expected to sound.

A soft hiss. “She is indisposed. Perhaps you would care to join her?”

I took a ragged breath. “What have you done to her? Where is she?” No. No. Not Tessa. Not now. Not before I had a chance to tell her …

“Her blood is strong, little summoner,” the deep voice continued. “Is yours as potent? There is another summoner here who would like to find out.”

“Tell Ryan to go fuck himself!” I yelled, shaking.

I heard the demon rumble in his version of laughter. “Come to the outreach center on Seventh Street, and we will use your blood instead of hers.”

I was silent, gripping the phone so tightly I could feel the plastic gouging into my palm. The outreach center. Ryan wasn’t the right age to be Peter Cerise. But Reverend Thomas was, and he would have had plenty of opportunity to peruse Greg’s drawings. And why else use the outreach center?

But if I went there I would be giving up the chance to stop him from binding Rhyzkahl. Shit. “Will you release her if I come?” My stomach churned. He wouldn’t release her. I knew it. He’d use her, and use me, and succeed in the binding.

There was silence on the line, then the demon gave a low growl. “If you come, she will be released.”

“Unharmed?”

“Too late for that,” he responded, sending another chill through me.

“Alive?” My voice broke.

“She will be released alive.”

“Your oath on it?”

“I swear on my essence that, if you come, she will be released alive.”

“Fine,” I said, my blood roaring in my ears. “I’ll be there.”

The line went dead and I slowly unclasped my fingers. The cell phone dropped to the table and I gripped the back of the chair. There was no way I could leave her there. My gaze slid to the door to the basement, nausea filling me. Up until this moment, it had been just a matter of theory that a few more people would die while I summoned. I’d even somewhat accepted that he had Michelle and that she was going to be sacrificed. But now … Aunt Tessa!

The only family I had left.

I wouldn’t be able to summon now. Even if I couldleave my aunt to die, my concentration was shattered. I’d never even get the portal open. I had no choice.

I picked up the envelope containing the letter I’d written to her and tore it into pieces. A flare of anger speared through me and I nursed it, drew it in as I let the bits of paper flutter to the floor. The fatalism had returned, but it was different now. I’ll go, I thought grimly as I changed clothes, strapping my Glock onto my belt and my Kel-Tec into my ankle holster. And maybe I’ll die. But I’m gonna do my best to fucking take Ryan and the Symbol Man with me.

CHAPTER 28

The exterior of the outreach center was unlit except for the silver sheen from the full moon above. There were no groups of people clustered outside tonight. Perhaps they could sense what was going on, feel the menace within.

I parked on the street, right in front of the double glass doors. No need to try to conceal myself. They knew I was coming. I could feel it—the tension, the coiling of power, ugly and violent. The taint of blood flowed along the street and among the decrepit stores like a sluggish wind. Anyone with even a breath of sensitivity to the arcane would want to be far away from this place tonight.

I eased out of my car, wishing I had more of a plan of action than stop-the-Symbol-Man-somehow-and-save-everyone. I had a plan. It went bust. Now I have to figure out something else. Maybe I’d be able to disrupt the summoning. The weight of my Glock was a comfort on my hip, even though I knew it was no good against a demon—especially a higher demon. But both the Symbol Man and Ryan can be killed by mundane bullets.

They wanted to use me. I had to make them regret that decision.

The ache of Ryan’s betrayal tugged at me again, and I looked up at the silver and bloated moon, feeling its potency bathe me, no less powerful for having been trod upon by humans. The sick fear grew in my belly, and I rubbed my sweating palms on the front of my jeans. The Symbol Man would begin the summoning of Rhyzkahl soon. My stomach roiled at the memory of Rhyzkahl’s power, bile rising at the thought of that much potency being in the control of someone so unscrupulous.

Or I could call him. It wasn’t the first time the thought had occurred to me. Rhyzkahl wouldn’t be bound, wouldn’t be under the control of this killer.

But the memory of Tessa’s face rose up, the horror in her eyes as she’d described the slaughter after Rhyzkahl had been summoned. And Rhyzkahl had been constrained by his honor then. There would be no such constraints on him if I called him to this world outside of a summoning circle.

I’m so screwed. I had no backup for this venture. Not with the knowledge that he had a demon as an ally. A higher demon would tear through a TAC team like a wolf in a room full of kittens. I didn’t dare risk anyone else on this.

I cast another glance to the sky, at the moon that taunted me with its fullness. I had planned to be well into my summoning by now. The demon swore he would release Tessa, I reminded myself. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but at least I would get her out.

As if my thoughts had summoned him, a winged figure landed on the roof of the center, framed almost perfectly against the full moon. I shrank back against my Taurus, barely daring to breathe as the demon—definitely a reyza—rose to his full height and spread his wings, bellowing.

Holy crap, the entire neighborhood’s going to hear that!He was taunting me, I realized. He didn’t care what attention he drew, because in a matter of hours—probably far less—a single demon would be a minor irritation to the residents of this sphere.

The demon swung into an open window on the side of the building, and I took a deep, relieved breath. I knew he had seen me, but that didn’t mean I was ready to face him.

I was stalling, and there was no time to stall. The quiet of the street was a surreal contrast with how urgent everything actually was. The gates across the doors were unlocked and ajar, swinging open with a whispered creak when I pushed on them. I stepped cautiously forward, trying to make as little sound as possible, even though I knew that those inside were aware of my presence. I wasn’t quite ballsy enough to stride in openly to be sacrificed.

Cold enveloped me as I stepped into the dark foyer, a chill not from an overactive air conditioner but from a touch into realms and spheres that sucked the energy from this sphere. Heat was energy, and I realized that he was using every available energy to create his portal. Smart, I thought grudgingly, even as my heart pounded. I held my gun close to my body at the ready position as I edged carefully forward through the dark. Around this corner and I would be in the main meeting hall, if I remembered the layout correctly. The rough metal of the butt of my gun nestled in my palm, a small comfort that I savored. A gun would do little damage against a reyza, but, damn, I felt better with it in my hand.

I went still at the scrape of a claw against stone, holding my breath as I waited for the sound to repeat itself. A few seconds later I heard another slow, unnerving scrape, and I clenched my teeth together as I moved. I couldn’t tell what direction the noise was coming from or even how far away it was. All I could do was keep moving forward.

My foot came up against something heavy and slightly yielding so suddenly that I almost went sprawling over it. I recovered, sucking in breath between my teeth as I took a half step back, then nudged the object carefully with my foot.

Shit. I crouched, then risked using my key-chain LED light.

It was definitely a body, but the first quick look was enough to confirm that it wasn’t Tessa or Michelle. This was a male, and for a brief crazy instant I thought it was Ryan, but then I processed the facial features, the receding hairline and neat beard. Reverend Thomas. I touched his throat, seeking a pulse but finding none. I sat back on my heels, frowning. So, hadhe been the Symbol Man? Or had Ryan killed him to take the power for himself? Or were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time?I’d liked him, and I wanted badly to believe the latter, but I was far too aware that my judgment hadn’t been terribly accurate lately.

I shifted to stand, then went still, gut clenching, the LED light still on. There was another body a few feet past the preacher’s.

“Fucking shit … Tessa!” I stumbled over the dead man and fell to my knees beside my aunt. She was cold and pale, and I hurriedly felt for a pulse. It was there. Barely. She’s alive. That’s all that counts.

But as my fingers lingered on my aunt’s neck, unease filled me. Yes, there was a pulse. But something didn’t feel right. I struggled to place the elusive feeling of wrongness.

She’s empty. I can’t… feel her.

Hot breath on the back of my neck warned me an instant too late. I spun and brought my weapon up to bear, but a clawed hand grasped mine, twisting the gun away savagely. I heard as much as felt the bones in my right wrist break, and I let out a strangled cry as the demon snarled at me and flung the gun away.

I gripped my arm to my chest, hissing through my teeth as I called up the words and powers of a dismissal. It would be a lot easier if I knew the name of this demon, but I would just have to make do. Seizing potency, I began to coil it into a portal.

The demon hissed and backhanded me. Pain slammed through my face and jaw as I went sprawling, though miraculously I managed to keep my arm to my chest. A part of me was aware that the demon hadn’t hit me very hard at all—at least not for him. My head would have been separated from my body if he’d used full force.

“No,” he growled, leaping over my aunt’s figure and landing to straddle me. One clawed hand gripped my shoulder, holding me firmly. He lowered his head, teeth glinting in the small light. “No, summoner. I will not be dismissed by you. I am here at the behest of another.”

“What did you do to my aunt?” I demanded through clenched teeth. “You swore on your essence!”

He rumbled. “I kept my side of the bargain. She lives.”

“That’s not alive!” I retorted, voice catching in a sob as guilt coiled in my belly. I should have answered the phone when she called!

The demon hissed. “Her heart beats yet. She lives. Do not question my honor again.”

“Fuck your honor!” I sought again to pull power to me, but fresh agony welled from my shoulder as his grip tightened. A cry of pain escaped me as I felt the claws pierce skin.

A rumbling growl came from the demon, and he leaned forward and licked my cheek, hot breath searing my skin. “It is good that you are here. Now we can commence.”

Frustration and grief twisted through me as the demon released his grip on my shoulder, only to immediately seize me by my hair and drag me toward the meeting hall. I gave a strangled cry as I grabbed at his hand with my uninjured one, doing what I could to relieve the pressure on my scalp.

The demon dumped me harshly in a dimly lit open space on the floor, causing me to bang my broken wrist and wringing another cry of pain from me. I still had my other weapon, but it was on my right ankle, which seemed miles away from my uninjured hand. Not that it would do a damn bit of good against the reyza.

I didn’t have the chance to think about it for too long. The demon seized me and pulled me to my knees, then yanked my arms behind my back and wrapped bindings around my wrists. I screamed as bone grated on bone. My vision went dark for several choking seconds as the pain crested, then finally receded into an intense sickening throb, dimly matched by the seething pain in my face and jaw. I barely noticed the demon binding my ankles as I sucked air through my teeth, head down, doing my best to avoid further agony by not moving a muscle.

A man laughed from the darkness in front of me, and I lifted my head. That didn’t sound like Ryan, which meant that this had to be Peter Cerise. Which means that Reverend Thomasisn’t the Symbol Man, I realized with an odd twinge of relief.

The demon rumbled softly from behind me, and I stared in shock as the man stepped forward. “Chief Morse?” I blurted in astonishment.

The Chief of Police of the Beaulac PD stood before me, dressed in a flowing robe of black silk shot through with crimson stitching. He smiled down at me, and for a brief insane moment I thought that he was there to help me, to try to stop Ryan. Then the reality of it came crashing in, and I cursed myself for my stupidity. It all made sense. He, not Reverend Thomas, was Peter Cerise. Chief Eddie Morse was certainly the right age and had managed to create an identity as an outsider so that no one could connect him to Greg. Light-blue eyes watched my reaction and, now that I was looking for it, I could see some resemblance to Greg. I also realized that the rumors that he’d had a face-lift were obviously true. He’d probably had cheek and chin implants as well, to further shift the lines of his face.

“What did you do to my aunt?” I snarled.

Eddie Morse/Peter Cerise gave me a cold smile. “Hello, Kara. Your aunt’s body lives, as per the terms of our agreement.” His lip curled. “Though I don’t know for how long, now that her essence has been stripped from it.” He paused, watching my face as I processed that information.

He used her, used all of her potency. She’s gone. She’s really gone. The last hope that I’d been wrong, that I’d misinterpreted what I’d felt, crumbled away. “Where’s Ryan?” I spat the name.

“Agent Kristoff is alive and well,” Cerise said as he crouched in front of me. “He was a bit of an unexpected bonus. He has enough arcane potential to add quite a bit of strength to the summoning. Makes up for Michelle being so worthless. I don’t know why my son chose to draw her.”

Michelle. He’d had her released so that he could have another sacrifice. I took a shaking breath. Ryan, you bastard!But I understood it now. “Greg liked to draw people who had arcane potential,” I said. “That’s how he could see into them.”

“Yes, and he saved me a great deal of trouble. He unwittingly gave me a handpicked stock of people whose only worth was in their spilled blood.”

“And you killed him.”

“I hated to do it.” He was silent for several heartbeats, and I could almost believe that it was true. Then his face hardened. “It was hard to give up that wonderful opportunity to find people with arcane resonance. It’s very convenient that so many people who are ‘sensitive’ tend to turn to drugs to dull the sensations that no one else can feel and that they just can’t deal with.” Cerise smiled, an unpleasant expression. “But Greg was starting to figure it out, noticing that all the victims were from his comic. He came to the station to speak to you, and he saw me there. He didn’t recognize me at the time, but I knew that he’d felt my arcane potential and would realize who I was soon enough.”

That’s when he called me, I realized. He had a feeling something wasn’t right. “And Reverend Thomas?”

“A convenient tool. I’m on the board of directors for this shithole, and meetings with the reverend gave me an excuse to come here and find out who Greg was drawing. Unfortunately, he decided to work late tonight. Wrong place, wrong time.” He shrugged. “It’s too bad, really. You’re not a bad detective at all. You got further than I ever expected. My last summoning failed, but a summoner’s blood should guarantee success this time. Your aunt, as strong as she is, won’t be quite enough, though she was a pleasant bonus.” His mouth curved into a smirk. “After I saw you reading the arcane resonance on the body at the wastewater plant, I did some digging in your personnel file and realized who your grandmother was. I then began to wonder if you might have inherited her gift. I was delighted to find out that you had. But I was even more delighted to discover that your weird aunt was the little bitch who’d helped my son sabotage the summoning that would have saved his mother.”

I stared at him as a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He thought that Greg and Tessa had ruined the summoning on purpose. No wonder he’d allowed Greg to think that he had died in the fire!

“I had my demon seize her, intending to use her as a sacrifice. But then he informed me that Tessawas also a summoner.” He practically spat her name, and a glint of fury and hatred flashed in his eyes. “It was a joy to drain her, to feel her life force seep from her body and into my own control.”

Impotent rage and shock surged through me. A summoner had to form part of the circle with blood for any sort of greater summoning. And there was nothing that said it had to be the summoner who was actually leading the ritual. He’s going to link through me and drain me dry, I realized, both in blood and in power, while he remains whole and strong. Just as he had done to Tessa.

“This is all revenge?” I demanded. “All because your summoning failed disastrously thirty years ago?”

“Once again you prove your skills as a detective. You’ve obviously spoken at length to my son and your aunt about it. And I knew that threatening to pull you off the case would only goad you to take even more risks.” His lips curled back in a grin. “So I guess you know who I intend to summon?”