Mark of the Demon
Page 33

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 yourself motion 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 problem with 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 luck had 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 syraza who, 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 sack was 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—I was 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 serve you?” His lip curled. “Under your terms?”
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 I wanted.
“Did you not?” he repeated, voice low and just as threatening. “You think to bid me here, under your terms, thinking to have the advantage of me.” He closed the distance between us in a move that was too fast for my eyes to follow, then seized me by the throat and pressed me back against the headboard. I gave a strangled cry and clutched at the hand holding me, but his grip on me was like iron.
“You thought to have the use of me,” he purred, the gentleness of his voice in stark contrast to his hold on me. “Use of me in a manner that was safe. A visit to your dreams.”
I clutched at the hand on my throat, struggling to hold back the whimper of terror. He wasn’t choking me, at least not yet, but his grip was implacable and unmovable. Holy shit, but I’d been an idiot! This was the true Demon. A powerful creature who took great offense at being summoned to serve.
A beautiful smile spread across his face. “And now I will show you the folly of that decision. You called me to your dreams.” He laughed, a lovely sound with a vicious edge. He leaned close and whispered against my cheek. “You called me, Kara darling.”
My eyes went wide. No, it couldn’t be! I’d merely kept my thoughts on him as I’d fallen asleep. Hadn’t I? Had I actually called him? Or was my aunt mistaken about how it worked? Tessa had said that he had to be called with intent…. I swallowed painfully against the grip on my throat. Did Tessa really know? Had the intent for him to come to my dreams been all he needed?
“You do not know, do you?” he said, voice melodious as I struggled against his grip. “You cannot be sure if this is dream or reality. Either is possible.”
“Please,” I rasped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Lord Rhyzkahl. Forgive me.”
“I do not serve you, little summoner.”
“No, no, you don’t.” I gabbled the words out, mind racing. If he was here in the flesh, could I actually dismiss him? Would a standard dismissal even work? A standard summoning sure didn’t. If only I’d had time to study such things! But I hadn’t really expected to encounter such a situation. I hadn’t ever intended to actually call him to me.
“Kara!” The door flew open and Ryan burst in, gun in his hand. “Kara, I heard …” His voice trailed off at the sight before him. I knew what he was seeing and feeling. The surreal light, the beautiful visage, and most of all the powerful and overwhelming essence of him. Ryan paled and staggered back a full step before recovering. “Holy Mary Mother of God,” he whispered.