Personal Demon
Page 73

“She wants to help,” he said.
“I know, but we didn’t mean to—We didn’t know.”
He nodded, then looked at me. “Your father did.”
I felt the weight of that look. How many times had I seen it? As if they expected me to apologize for my father’s behavior or at least explain it. I couldn’t.
I promised to call Karl with an update in the morning. He pretended not to hear, and the elevator doors closed.
 
WE FOUND GRIFFIN in the doorway of a filing room, recovering from Karl’s blow. He was convinced Hope was behind tonight’s attacks, that she’d encouraged the gang to strike so she could enjoy the chaotic outcome.
I understood now that an attraction to chaos lay at the root of Hope’s powers. I presumed it was similar to a demon’s hunger for chaos, but it was difficult to transfer that concept from a demonic entity to a young woman, particularly one eager to stop trouble.
If my father knew of that chaos need, and brought her into a situation that would feed it…An issue to contend with later.
 
For now, I disabused Griffin of the notion that the gang was responsible for these attacks. The blueprints suggested they’d been involved, but only working under the real perpetrator—the one who’d supplied those plans. I did not, of course, speculate on the identity of that actor. Not until I had hard evidence.
When the security team arrived, I sent Griffin to the hospital to guard my father. Then I had to deal with William’s body.
Two brothers dead; the third almost certainly responsible. Had someone suggested this possibility yesterday, I’d have agreed that such a thing could happen—the tensions and jealousies that had been simmering all my life could finally explode in a Shakespearean tragedy. But the admission would have been purely intellectual. To witness it unfolding? Beyond comprehending.
 
I STOOD OUTSIDE a hospital room in a small private facility run by supernaturals, funded by the Cabal for the sole use of their employees.
Two guards flanked the door, as immobile and expressionless as tin soldiers. I’d been standing here for five minutes and neither had acknowledged my presence. In light of the night’s events, to speak would mean having to find something to say, and it was easier to stare straight ahead and do their jobs.
Paige had gone in first to get an update on Troy. He was out of surgery, still unconscious, but his condition had stabilized. My father was with him, Griffin having joined them.
When I heard Paige offer my father something to eat, I knew she was starting to stall. I had to get in there.
Oh God, how could I tell him?
I took a deep breath and walked in. My father, hearing my footsteps, pulled back the curtain.
“Lucas.”
He reached out with one arm, the other hand clutching a coffee cup, cardboard rippling under his grip. One look in his eyes and I knew he already suspected what I was here to tell him. Maybe that should have made it easier.
It didn’t.
I walked over and embraced him.
 
A HALF-HOUR later I was sitting in the tiny Reflections Room with Paige. Two guards were posted at the door. I’d have preferred to stay with my father, but it had been his suggestion that we rest here for a few minutes.
Someone had to find Carlos and supervise the intensive operations surrounding not only the investigation into my brothers’ deaths, but also the notifications, the cover-ups and the arrangements, both private and public. It would be too much for my father. The duty fell to me.
And he had another duty, one that I could not help him with: telling Delores that two of her sons were dead and the third was missing.
I hadn’t mentioned my suspicions about Carlos. As strong as my father was, that revelation might be too great a blow.
The search team had a report of Carlos dining at a restaurant he frequented. It had been hours since he’d been there, but it would be a place to start.
I was due to meet with the search team in thirty minutes. In the meantime, I was heeding my father’s advice, resting in the Reflections Room. In a public hospital, this would be the chapel. While many supernaturals adhere to a religious faith, the Cortez Cabal is careful to keep such places nondenominational.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said after a few minutes.
“You can.”
“Investigate one brother for the murder of the other two? My brothers?”
“You can, but if you don’t want to, he’ll understand.”
I shook my head. “It isn’t a matter of want.”
“Then you can.”
I turned and she kissed me, barely more than a press of her lips against mine, but when she pulled back, I could still taste her. I lifted my hand to the back of her head, pulling her into me, and I wanted to lose myself in her, just for a moment, forget everything and—
My cell phone vibrated.
Paige sputtered a small laugh. “I’m going to guess that isn’t your heart—or anything else—fluttering.”
“Unfortunately.”
“I’ll go find coffees,” she said. “We’ll need them.”
 
 
HOPE: DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH
 
 
I dozed as Karl drove, waking, befuddled, when he pulled into a lot I didn’t recognize. Then I remembered I couldn’t go back to my apartment, and briefly wondered how I was going to brush my teeth before deciding it really wasn’t that important.
Karl led me to an exit door. I felt a twinge of curiosity, but couldn’t muster the energy to ask. We entered a quiet, carpeted hotel hallway. A glance up and down the hall, then he sat me in a plush armchair next to a window overlooking a pool.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Wait here.”
“Where’s here?”
“The Royal Plaza. I’m going to get us a room.”
His lips brushed the top of my head. I watched him go, numb from my nap and number still from chaos exhaustion.
Why hadn’t we come in the front door? I was sure this was a place with valet service, and surer still that Karl never parked his car when he didn’t need to. One glimpse of my reflection in the window, though, and I realized I was in no state to endure curious stares.
I pulled my feet up, my shoes sliding off. I was almost asleep when Karl’s hands slid under my arms, lifting me.
“Shhh, I’ve got you.”