Secrets of the Demon

Chapter 9

My alarm went off at six A.M., to my enormous annoyance. After slapping my clock to shut off the damn beeping, I glowered at it for several seconds as I tried to remember why the hell I had it set for so early, since I was on a ten-to-six shift this month.

Then I remembered. Jill, I thought, curling my lip. My nemesis.

I scowled and threw off the covers. Jill wasn’t actually my nemesis, merely my running partner. However, the two were awfully similar in my mind, especially at this hour of the morning.

Jill Faciane was one of the few people I could call friend, and also one of the extremely few people who knew I summoned demons—something she’d discovered by accident after she’d come into my aunt’s house and discovered a reyza in the hallway. Somehow I’d managed to convince her that the eight-foot-tall winged, horned monster in the house was friendly, which had led to me explaining how I could possibly know this.

It had been an interesting conversation, to say the least.

Shortly after I’d become sworn to Rhyzkahl, she and I had begun a Monday morning social hour—usually involving coffee and donuts. Then last month she got a wild hare up her ass and decided we needed to start running instead of being lazy slugs, pointing out that we had a PT test coming up. In theory I was heartily in favor of fitness as a requirement to be a police officer. In reality I hated running more than life itself, but at least it gave me time to indulge in all sorts of gossip with Jill. Not that I really had a choice. Jill had proven to be remarkably hard to budge on this, the stubborn bitch.

But first I intended to have my coffee. Nothing was going to happen until I had a caffeine infusion.

I loaded the coffeemaker with the appropriate quantities of grounds and water, then waited impatiently for enough to brew so that I could fill my mug. I glanced at the clock as I stirred in my usual insane amounts of sugar and creamer. I had barely enough time to check my email before I had to head out, which was convenient since I had an annoying tendency to forget to check it when I was at home. Not that I suffered from an overflowing inbox, but sometimes the penis-enlargement spam was worth a chuckle.

I sipped cautiously as I walked down the hall to the living room and my computer, humming in silly pleasure as the coffee worked its lovely stimulating magic on my nervous system. I set my mug on the desk, then went still.

Something’s different. The thought skittered through my head. Something was out of place . . .

The chair. It was pushed all the way in. I never did that. A chill ran down my spine even as I tried to talk myself out of being freaked. Okay, so it’s more than possible that I actually did push it in after I used it last time. Except that the keyboard tray was also pushed in. Again, I never do that. Pushing in the chair was like making the bed—they were both actions I considered to be totally pointless since I was merely going to undo it the next time I wanted to use the computer or sleep in the bed.

My gaze swept over the desk and computer, finding more things out of place. It was all little inconsequential things . . . the mouse was moved, the keyboard shifted. But taken together it was an unnerving whole. And, when I finally sat down at the computer, I realized that the monitor had been adjusted as well. For someone taller.

It’s impossible. This house is warded to the teeth. I’d learned my lesson after dealing with the wards at my aunt’s house and had spent several weeks summoning the demon Zhergalet to get my own house as secure as it could be.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to control my stupid paranoia. This was insane. Why the hell would someone break into my house to use my computer? Jiggling the mouse to clear the screensaver, I was relieved to see the familiar sight of my computer desktop. At least it still worked.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen. I dozed off for a few minutes, after Rhyzkahl and I . . . Had it only been a few minutes? I hadn’t bothered to check the clock or anything. Had he used that opportunity to come up here and . . . what, surf the Internet? It sounded insane. And how would he know how to use a computer? And why?

Unless he was simply trying to learn more about this world? That made a strange sort of sense. But why hide it from me?

I rubbed my arms, chilled by uncertainty. I didn’t know whether I wanted to summon the lord immediately to confront him, or put off seeing him again as long as possible.

I scowled. I couldn’t summon him again. It would be several days before I could store enough power to do so. Besides, what would it accomplish? What, I was going to accuse him of using my computer, and he would say, Yes, I did, and I would say something like, Oh, well, don’t do it again?

Yeah, that would be effective.

But the acceptance that I wasn’t immediately going to summon the demonic lord didn’t stop me from fretting about the whole thing pretty heavily while I drove over to Jill’s house. I wanted badly to talk to someone about it, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Ryan. And I didn’t want to go anywhere near the subject of Rhyzkahl with my aunt.

I grinned wickedly. My nemesis. Jill wanted to drag me out of bed early? Then she could listen to all of my whining.

Jill lived about half a mile from my aunt Tessa, in a house that was within about two blocks of being in a rather crummy section of town. I always made sure to lock my car doors whenever I went over to her place. However, I loved her house. It was two stories, small and skinny, painted in a dusky blue that I adored, and raised a few feet off the ground. Somehow it reminded me of a really cool clubhouse.

“Let’s go, you lazy bitch!” I yelled as I came through the front door.

“Bite me, you whore!” I heard the cheerful reply from the direction of the kitchen. I laughed and headed to the back. Her house couldn’t have been more than about eight hundred square feet—and that was counting both floors, but it was all tucked together neatly and efficiently. The front of the house was the living area and the back was the kitchen. There was only one bedroom, which, along with a bathroom, took up the entire second floor. And, the only way to get upstairs was by way of an utterly charming wrought-iron spiral staircase. I was dying to put one of those in my house, except for the annoying fact that my house had only one story. And I couldn’t replace the basement stairs with a spiral staircase, since most of the demons I summoned would never be able to navigate it.

Thus I was reduced to lusting after Jill’s.

Jill was perched on a stool with one foot on her counter as she tied the laces of her shoe, and I silently en-vied the muscle tone in her legs. Slender and petite, she had the sleek athletic build of someone who was always moving. Her red hair was cut into an adorable pixie style that I’d always wanted to try, but had long ago accepted could never pull off with my facial features. It totally worked on Jill, though she was far from “adorable.” Fierce, determined, loyal, and caring—yes. Adorable? Not in this lifetime.

“I think I need new shoes,” she said sourly. “I had to superglue the sole of this one back on last night. Why do they have to be so damn expensive?”

“Space age engineering,” I replied. “Make you better runner. Faster. All that stuff.”

“Ha. Make you broker runner.”

“Y’know, if your shoe is falling apart, it might be safer to not run,” I said, probably a little too hopefully.

She gave me a quelling look. “Nice try. You’re not getting out of this.” She laughed as I stuck my tongue out at her. “So I hear you had fun the other night!”

“Would have been a lot more fun without the whole chase-the arcane-creature-through-the-city part.”

“You chased something?” she asked, skepticism heavy in her voice.

I planted my hands on my hips and tried to look offended. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Yes!” she said with a laugh. “I’m your running partner, remember? Or should I call it your wheezing shambling jogging partner?”

“You are such a bitch,” I muttered, unable to keep from smiling.

“Yep, which is why I’ll go ahead and remind you now that the PT test is in two weeks, and we’re running again on Friday, and you need to have your butt over here by six A.M.”

I scratched the side of my nose with my middle finger cocked in a rude gesture. “Seriously, you’re really a bitch. I don’t know why I bother with you.” I took a dramatic breath. “Okay, so I might have hitched a ride with a demon while Ryan and Zack did the actual running part of the chase.”

“Now that I can believe!” Her blue eyes were bright with amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I planted myself on a stool. “Now, in the spirit of me putting off running as long as possible, I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“Sure thing, as long as it doesn’t take so long that you try to weasel out of running altogether.”

I batted my eyes innocently. “Would I do that?” I ignored the rude noise she made. “Tell me everything you know about golems,” I said.

She blinked at me. “Excuse me?”

“Ummm, aren’t you Jewish?”

She gave the most withering look I’d ever experienced. “Okay, I like you,” she said, “and so I’m not going to say something that I would probably go ahead and say to anyone else.”

“Er, thanks?” I said tentatively.

She laughed. “Look, golems are part of Jewish lore, but I don’t know much more about them than anyone else. Hell, most of what I know is from watching The X-Files.”

“Oh, no,” I breathed in horror. “Don’t tell me you’re a nerd too!”

“Well, I can’t hold a candle to Ryan and Zack, but yeah, I liked X-Files when it was on. Anyway, there was one episode about golems that was fairly true to legend.”

I groaned. “Please don’t make me go watch it. Can you sum up the legend stuff for me?”

“You are so damn pathetic,” she said, eyes flashing with humor. “Well, all I really remember is that they’re animated creatures made from inanimate matter. And there’s usually something written on the forehead, or a piece of paper in the mouth. Erase the letters or remove the paper and the golem stops or falls apart.”

“I don’t remember seeing any letters on the thing’s head,” I said with a shrug. “Heck, I’m not even sure it was that sort of golem, but I know that a lot of legends have a seed of fact at their core.” Inanimate creature animated by magic, or in this case some sort of arcane power I wasn’t familiar with.

“So you think that’s what grabbed Lida Moran off the stage?” Jill asked.

“It’s a theory.” I gave her the summarized version of what happened.

“Too weird,” she said with a shake of her head after I finished. “And you’ve stalled long enough.” She bent over in a stretch, placing her palms on the floor with her legs together and knees straight.

I winced. “Show-off. I can barely touch my toes.”

She straightened with a grin. “I used to be a gymnast. Had a gymnastics scholarship and everything.”

“I can’t even do a cartwheel!”

“Yeah,” she said as she headed to the door with me. “Not sure why I hang out with you.”

“Because you can’t have Pellini, so you settled for me.”

Jill pulled the door shut behind us, then made a sound in her throat as if she was about to barf up a hairball. Pellini was one of the other Violent Crimes detectives at the PD, and Jill and I shared a dislike of the man—one that was fully reciprocated. “Oh, yes, I pine for that big, disgusting, misogynistic, lazy idiot.” She locked the door and stuck the key in the pocket of her running shorts. “Okay, usual route, or bump it up?” She eyed me expectantly.

I sighed. “Bump it up.”

“Ooo, studly!” she grinned as we walked to the road and then started a easy jog, heading toward the lakefront area. “You’ll be running ten-Ks before you know it.”

I scowled. “Y’know, you could at least pretend to have a hard time running.” I could believe she’d been a gymnast. Her uniform hid it, but she wasn’t just slender—she was lean muscle. She ran like a graceful deer, barely breathing hard, while I was already panting by the quarter-mile mark.

“Nah, this is far more fun,” she replied, tone annoyingly chipper. “Hey, you could always go running with Ryan.”

“And have him see my pale flabby legs and my red sweaty face? I think not.”

Her grin turned wicked. “I think he’d love to see you all sweaty.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know? Besides, we’re friends. That’s it.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, voice thick with disbelief. “You’re telling me that you don’t want to snuggle up with Fed Boy?”

I grimaced. “Things are too messed up right now for that.”

She flicked a glance at me. “Because of Rhyzkahl.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “I mean, what the hell is wrong with me? Every time I summon him, we end up fucking like rabbits in heat. And, then I get all confused because I . . . well, I’m starting to really like being around him. I mean, some of the time. Other times he’s totally the powerful arcane dude and I wonder what the hell I’m doing even thinking about getting emotionally involved with a demonic lord. And I like Ryan, but there’s no way that he’s going to make any sort of move on me, or accept any move from me, as long as I’m sworn to the demonic lord.” I had to pant for breath after that long speech.

“Does Ryan know that you’re still sleeping with demon dude?”

I gave a breathless laugh. “Ain’t no sleeping involved, darlin’. But, to answer your question, Ryan knows that I slept with him that first time.” I grimaced, remembering Ryan’s reaction to that revelation. It had been ugly and unpleasant, to put it mildly. Ryan had demanded to know how I could have “fucked that thing.” I’d retorted with something equally heated and nasty. We’d managed to get past the incident for the most part, but it wasn’t an issue I cared to revisit with him. “I figure Ryan assumes that I’m still sleeping with Rhyzkahl, now that I’m sworn to him as his summoner.” I abruptly realized that this was the first time I’d spoken about all of this openly to anyone.

“Seems to me that he’d probably assume you were sleeping with Rhyzkahl even if you weren’t,” Jill pointed out. “So, if you’re gonna be suspected of something, might as well do it!”

“You’re not helping,” I groaned.

She laughed. “I know, but I saw that drawing of Rhyzkahl in that comic. Holy shit, woman. I’d be on him like white on rice!”

I sighed. “Even if I stop screwing Rhyzkahl, it won’t do any good. I think Ryan sees me as tainted goods anyway.” He definitely seemed determined to keep me firmly in the “just friends” category.

Jill grabbed my arm and stopped dead, causing me to flail for balance as she spun me to face her. “Now you listen to me, you stubborn hardheaded bitch,” she snarled. “I don’t know if Ryan sees you that way or not—but if he does then he’s a fucking moron who doesn’t deserve you. And you’d better not see yourself that way, because the only thing you’re tainted with is being a damn human who wants some good fucking every now and then.”

I stared at her for several seconds before I finally recovered enough to give her a weak smile. “Okay.”

She bared her teeth at me in a fierce smile. “I mean, seriously! Why is it that women get so damn angsty about having enjoyable sex?”

“I don’t dislike enjoyable sex!” I protested.

“No? But you’re sure determined to feel guilty about it. So, do you enjoy it?”

I actually blushed. “Well . . . yeah.”

“Does Rhyzkahl make you feel good and sexy and special?”

I tried not to fidget. “Um. Yeah, but it’s not that simple.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Does he ever force you or coerce you into doing things you don’t want to do?”

I shook my head. In fact I realized that I had absolutely zero fear that he would ever fail to back off if I ever wanted him to.

Jill shrugged. “Okay, so maybe you can’t see yourself settling down with him as Mrs. Demonic Lord, but the way I see it, what you have with Rhyzkahl is the ultimate fuckbuddy. Hot, gorgeous, respects your limits, and makes you feel good. Am I missing anything?”

I stared at her, then began to giggle. “Fuckbuddy. Holy shit.” I tried to picture myself explaining the concept to Rhyzkahl, which only made me laugh harder.

Jill grinned. “Exactly. So stop flailing around in puritanized guilt. If Ryan wants to be with you, then he needs to nut up and make a fucking move on you and fight for you.”

I managed to get my laughter under control. “But he hasn’t made a move, Jill,” I said. “Which means that he’s not interested.”

“Or he’s completely thickheaded.”

I snickered. “That’s always possible.”

“And what about you?” Jill said, fixing me with a piercing look.

“Um, what about me?”

“Have you made any sort of move on him?” she asked. “Have you made it clear to him that you’d like to try being more than BFFs?” The look on her face told me that she already knew my answer.

I grimaced and twisted the toe of my shoe onto the sidewalk. “Not exactly.”

She cleared her throat.

I sighed. “Okay, no. I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

I scowled. “Shit, Jill, because I’m scared to death that he’ll say he doesn’t want to be anything more than friends, and then things would be awkward and we wouldn’t even have that.”

She took me by the shoulders. “Yo, woman. It’s not the nineteenth century anymore. You can’t leave it all up to him.” She gave me a shake. “Besides, how do you know he’s not scared about the same thing?”

I regarded her sourly for several seconds. “I hate it when you make sense,” I finally grumbled. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’m being stupid.” I groaned. “When did I turn into a needy whiny angsty idiot who needed to be swept off her feet?”

She snorted then started running again, forcing me into a brief sprint to catch up. “We’re conditioned from birth,” she said. “I swear to god, if I ever have a daughter I’ll ban all of the Disney princesses from the house. Except Mulan. She kicks ass.”

I laughed, then had to save my breath for running.

I hated to admit it, but the jogging did seem to clear my head a bit. Or maybe it was oxygen deprivation making it difficult for my brain to concentrate on the various things that were stressing me out. Like what I would do if Ryan ever did make some sort of move. Would I have the strength to keep Rhyzkahl at arm’s length if that ever happened? It wasn’t as if I could simply stop seeing him, not as long as I was oathbound to him. And even if I did shift my relationship with Rhyzkahl to a platonic one, I couldn’t see Ryan being willing to endure the fact that I had any contact with the demonic lord.

“I think you know way too much about me,” I complained after we made the turn to head back to the house. “Obviously, I whine about my life too much.”

She chuckled. “Or I’m simply a nosy bitch.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to start doing the nosy bitch routine with you,” I gave her a mock glare. “You keep dropping these little snippets of enticing info.”

“I’m boring,” she insisted.

I rolled my eyes, and tried to resist the urge to actually be a nosy bitch. Jill had once revealed to me that she was a widow, but hadn’t said anything more other than that it had been a short marriage and a long story. I could respect that some memories could be painful, but it shamed me that I knew very little about her in general. What kind of friend was I? Did I spend too much time whining about my own issues?

Yes, I decided glumly. I was overly preoccupied with myself and my own problems.

“Well, are you seeing anyone?” I asked. “Hot dates? Cold dates?”

She shrugged, but there was a small smile on her face. “A date here and there. Nothing much.”

I’d been a detective long enough to know that she was hiding something from me. “Anyone I know?” I pressed.

She kept her eyes on the road and shrugged again. “Um, well it’s a small town, so anything’s possible.” She abruptly veered to the right to take a side street, forcing me to quicken my pace to catch up with her. “Let’s cut through here and run along the lakefront, okay?”

“Sure,” I muttered, fairly sure that the change in direction was an excuse to change the subject as well.

“There’s a five-K race next month,” she said next, confirming my suspicion that she wanted to talk about something else.

Okay, so maybe she’s simply a really private person. Or maybe she thinks I’d be upset if I knew who she’d been dating? The only possible way I’d be upset was if she was dating Ryan, but even though the jealous third grader in me wanted to rear its pigtailed head, I simply couldn’t see the two of them dating. And why would she be encouraging me to make a move on him if that were the case?

Right?

I scowled and slapped my inner third grader down as we finally made the turn to head back to her house. I had enough drama in my life. I didn’t need to fabricate any more.