Mark of the Demon

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 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.

He’s Catholic? The insanely out-of-place thought came to me even as I renewed my struggles against the grip on me. “Ryan! Run!” I cried out. “You can’t hurt him!”

Ryan’s eyes flicked to me, then came back to Rhyzkahl. He lifted his gun, holding it with both hands and sighting carefully. “Let her go, asshole,” he said, voice quavering only barely.

Rhyzkahl’s eyes narrowed to azure slits as he regarded Ryan. “You have not the means to stop me.”

“Ryan,” I gasped, “the gun won’t do you any good. Just fucking run!”

Rhyzkahl laughed, then began to slowly tighten his grip on me, his eyes on Ryan. I coughed, scrabbling frantically at the hand as my breath was constricted.

“Let her go!” Ryan shouted, stepping farther into the room, gun trained on Rhyzkahl.

No, damn it, Ryan, I thought frantically. Just run!

Rhyzkahl merely smiled and tightened his grip.

Ryan shot a quick glance to me, then looked back to the Demonic Lord. “You were warned,” he said, voice steady now.

The sound of the gunshot slammed through the small room, and a picture on the far side of the room exploded into fragments. But I knew the bullet had passed through Rhyzkahl’s head.

And left no damage in its wake.

“Ah, fuck,” Ryan breathed, taking a step back.

Rhyzkahl tilted his head back, inhaling and lifting a hand. I froze as I saw the power coiling swiftly into his control, a blue-black arcane maelstrom in the palm of his hand. Ryan could see it, too, and his eyes went wide. But there was no time for him to do anything about it. Rhyzkahl unleashed the force, casting it into the flesh of the one who had attacked him, lifting Ryan off his feet and sending him crashing into the wall.

I let out a choked cry as Ryan crumpled beneath the gaping hole in the wall, blood trickling from his mouth. I stared in horror, silently screaming at him to move. No … not you. You can’t be dead! Oh, please …!

Rhyzkahl released his grip on me and straightened, eyes flashing in satisfaction.

I scrabbled to get off the bed, hideous thick sobs welling in my throat as I tried to get to Ryan, but Rhyzkahl seized me by my hair before I could escape his reach. He yanked me close, twining the hair in his grasp savagely, wringing a new cry of pain from me.

“He is not worth your attention, dear one. A piteous creature who does not even know himself.”

“He’s not piteous!” I flailed at his hand, gaining small satisfaction in striking out at him even though I knew it didn’t hurt him.

His expression hardened. “You should be cautious. Not all are as gentle as I.”

“He’s my partner! He’s watching out for me. You didn’t have to hurt him!”

His expression didn’t change. “I have use of you, Kara. Just remember that there may be others who find you of use as well.”

That didn’t make any sense to me. Was he talking about Ryan?

He abruptly pulled me off the bed and to my knees by his feet, but before I could cry out in protest, the scene shifted suddenly to a place other than my bedroom, a place painfully cold and pitch-dark.

My breath caught in my chest. Had he somehow brought me to his own realm? Or were we in some nether region? The cold burrowed into me, and the darkness was absolute. Shivers racked me, and not just because of the cold. But there was a stench to the place, a mustiness and odor that tugged at my memory.

Before my own memory could assert itself, a pale-blue light flared above us, revealing the metal interior of the morgue cooler. Rhyzkahl kept his grip on my hair, holding me firmly on my knees as I inhaled in surprise. In front of us was a stretcher that held a black body bag. Before I could speak, he made a gesture and the body bag disappeared, leaving just the body of the mutilated young girl, faint flickers of arcane energy barely visible on the body.

A low growl emanated from Rhyzkahl’s throat. “I know the one who laid these,” he said, in a voice that did not welcome response. Then, before I could react, the scene shifted again and we were back in my bedroom, with the crumpled form of Ryan still against the far wall.

Rhyzkahl tilted my head back to look up at him, then reached and stroked my hair, smiling down at me as I shook. Like a dog, I thought, with anger and a measure of shame. I’m like a pet to him.

He released me and turned away. “Do not concern yourself with the one who laid those markings, Kara. He is mine to discipline.”

And then he was gone in a flash of white light.

For a heartbeat, I stared at the place where he’d been, then frantically stumbled over to the still form of Ryan.

“Ryan!” Was he breathing? Had the force of it killed him? “Ryan!”

“Kara?”

“Ryan? Ryan, wake up! Please!”

“Jesus Christ, Kara, would you please wake the fuck up? Don’t make me slap you!”

I blinked up at him, disoriented and breathing raggedly. He stood over me, frowning, still exceedingly in one piece, with no blood on him.

“Oh, holy shit, you’re all right!” I sat up and threw my arms around him before I could think. “I thought you were dead,” I gasped out. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead.” Just a dream. I took deep gulps of air, struggling to dispel the horror of it. Just a dream.

Ryan gave a startled laugh and gave me a squeeze. “Hey, you. I’m not dead. What the hell happened?”

I released him abruptly, suddenly embarrassed by the display of emotion. I ducked my head to hide the hot flush, then brought a hand up to my throat. No bruising, no marks. All still a dream. “H-he taught me a lesson.” I didn’t want to look at Ryan. I hadn’t realized until just this instant how much I’d come to value our friendship, and I was terrified that he’d see it in my face. And not share the sentiment.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice taking on a darker timbre. “What kind of lesson?”

I tried to laugh, but it was a pitiful effort. “A lesson about who he is. A Demonic Lord. Not a creature who gets summoned to perform tasks for a mere mortal.”

“What did he do to you?” Ryan gripped me by my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Why did you think I was dead?”

I swiped a hand across my face, even more embarrassed when it came away damp. Great, now I’ve completed my impression of a needy and overly emotional idiot. I took a deep breath, forcing myself into a calmer state. “Oh, you know, the usual threats and show of dominance. Then …” A shiver ran through me. “He manipulated the dream. He made me think you ran in to defend me and that you shot him, and … and he retaliated and pretty much threw you through that wall with just a flick of his fingers.”

“Oh, come on,” Ryan said with a derisive snort. “And you believed that?”

I looked up in surprise and scowled at him. “He’s definitely powerful enough to do that. And I thought he was here in the flesh!”

Ryan laughed. “No, silly. You really thought I would come in to defend you against a Demonic Lord? Hell, I’d be halfway to the highway!”

“Oh, you ass,” I said, laughing and swinging at him with a pillow, painfully relieved that he’d lightened the mood.

He grinned and ducked. “All right, so he showed you who’s boss, killed me off, and then what?”

My laughter faded as I remembered the other blow that Rhyzkahl had dealt. “He said … something strange. Said I should be cautious, because not all were as gentle as he was.” I frowned. “And said something about how he had a use for me but that there were others who might find me of use as well. It was pretty weird.” I watched Ryan for his reaction.

“Huh,” he said, puzzled expression on his face. “Wonder what he meant by that?”

I shrugged and stood up from the bed, wishing I could shrug away the slight doubt that Rhyzkahl had instilled in me. Was he trying to warn me about something? Or someone? Now that the whole experience was over, I could—grudgingly—admit that I had been overstepping my bounds when it came to dealing with a creature of that level of power. Not that I had any experience with that sort of thing, but I’d been coming very close to thinking of Rhyzkahl in human terms. He was not a human. Not a mortal. He was a demon. They were different. The rules were different.

“Dunno,” I said as I pulled a sweatshirt on. Had he been trying to tell me something about Ryan? Was that why he’d attacked Ryan, or at least attacked a dream version of him? If so, then why wouldn’t he just come out and accuse him?

It didn’t matter. The seed of doubt was there now.

“So I guess this means that you didn’t get any info about the body?” Ryan asked.

“Oh, actually I did.” I laughed a bit shakily. “After all that, he took me to the morgue.”

“And?”

I spread my hands. “All he said was that he knew who it was and that he would deal with it.”

Ryan pondered this for a few seconds, brows drawn together. “I don’t understand. Does that mean it’s one of his own followers?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, feeling my frustration rise. “If so, it would mean that it’s a demon working against Rhyzkahl somehow. Or it could be that it’s another lord’s demon. Either way, he’s going to deal with it.”

Ryan scrubbed his hand through his hair. “And we’re to back off on that, no matter who it is.”

“Yeah. That’s pretty much the vibe I got. Not that there’s much we could do if it’s some sort of conflict between two lords.” I exhaled, suddenly feeling very tired. “And after that whole visit, I’m just fine with letting him deal with it.”

“But it doesn’t get us any closer to figuring out who the Symbol Man is.”

He’d struck to the heart of it. “No,” I agreed. “We’re still right where we were before.”