Chapter 19

The angle of Adam Taylor’s neck had me fairly convinced that he was dead, but I still stooped and put my fingers to his throat to check for a pulse, while Ryan remained standing with his gun at the ready. I didn’t think that the golem was still around, but best to play it safe. The body was faintly cool to the touch, which led me to the unscientific conclusion that he’d been lying there for a couple of hours at least.

I straightened and Ryan gave me a questioning look. I stood still for a moment, sensing. Ryan remained quiet, watching and waiting.

“The resonance feels stronger in that direction,” I said softly, indicating the door at the end of the hall.

“That leads outside, to the rear of the building,” he replied in a low voice. We moved to the door and opened it cautiously. A light drizzle fell on an empty parking lot. I stepped outside, but the trail of resonance ended at the edge of the lot, and I couldn’t see any mundane clues such as tire marks or a conveniently dropped wallet.

“Whoever’s controlling the thing must have driven it here,” I said, returning inside and holstering my gun. “I doubt it’s sophisticated enough to drive itself.”

“Does it feel as if the golem was anywhere else in the building?”

I shook my head. “I can’t really explain how it feels ... but it’s almost like a slime trail. I can sense it from a few feet away, and it’s really obvious where the golem has been.” I carefully stepped around Adam’s body, then ascended the stairs. I paused when I reached the top. “It came up here,” I called down to Ryan. Adam’s office door stood open. I peered in and could see that the chair behind the desk was on its side. I stood silent and still for a dozen more heartbeats, assessing, then returned downstairs.

“As far as I can tell,” I told him, “the golem came in that door, went upstairs, grabbed Adam out of his chair, and tossed him down the stairs. It might have given Adam’s neck an extra twist to be sure he was dead, and then it walked right back out that door, where someone picked it up and took it away.”

Ryan’s gaze raked over the body and the stairs. “This certainly complicates things.”

I crouched again, worrying my lower lip as I took in the feel of the resonance. After a moment Ryan crouched beside me.

“Any luck pinning down what it is?” he asked quietly.

I twitched a shoulder up in a shrug. “I have some theories. But I’m not sure it matters. It doesn’t point to who might be controlling it, or how to stop it.”

He laid a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Well, then we’ll simply have to resort to over-the-top violence.”

I laughed and gave him a grateful smile for pulling me free of the funk before I could get into it.

He stood and I followed suit. “I’d better call Zack and fill him in,” he said.

“And I need to call my rank.” And how was I going to justify to Crawford that I knew this was connected to Vic Kerry’s murder? I fought back a sigh. Deal with that later. For now, follow procedure.

Fortunately, there was no one else left in the building, which made it easy to secure the scene. Zack arrived about ten minutes later, with Jill pulling up in the crime scene van right behind him.

“You know what I love about working your scenes?” she asked after I filled her in on what I had. “The fact that I do all sorts of work and collect all sorts of evidence, and then I never have to actually process any of it since you then go off and solve the case using your spooooky demon powers.” She wiggled her fingers at me and made an absurd face.

I had to laugh. “That’s so not true, but I will say that I highly doubt that the perp in this one left behind any fingerprints.”

She wrinkled her nose as she readied her camera. “Well, unfortunately I still have to check for prints, since it’ll look pretty bad if I don’t.”

“And it’s always possible that I’m wrong,” I added.

“Well, I’m still not gonna waste my time hunting down matches for fingerprints on AFIS until you tell me to.” She stepped past me and began photographing the scene. I grinned and stayed out of her way.

Crawford showed up as Jill was finishing up her pictures. He peered down at the crumpled body and then looked back up at me. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again, clearly conflicted. He flicked a glance around, taking in the people present.

Finally he cleared his throat and returned his focus to me. “I take it you have some reason to believe this wasn’t an accident?”

I nodded. Shit. How was I supposed to explain? This one wasn’t as easy as saying a dog had been chasing me. “There are some, er, similarities to the Victor Kerry scene, as well as to the attack on Lida Moran in New Orleans.”

His inner turmoil was painfully obvious. Even Ryan and Zack seemed to be aware of it as they stood silently by, carefully pretending to be paying no attention to our conversation.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Then he swept his gaze over the agents. “This is some kind of supernatural-type bullshit, isn’t it?”

Ryan gave Crawford a grave nod. “In a way, yes. Our task force often handles cases that fall outside the commonly accepted norm.”

Crawford gave a snort. “ ‘Commonly accepted norm.’ I don’t fucking believe this.” He looked almost relieved, though, as if the fact that Ryan had admitted it helped to prove he hadn’t lost his mind.

“Sarge,” I began, but he held up his hand to stop me.

“Kara. It ... it’s okay.” He still had a pained expression, but he didn’t look miserably conflicted anymore. “So, are you some kind of psychic or witch or something?”

I fought the urge to smile. “Not exactly. I ... um ... have the ability to see arcane power and can shape it for certain purposes.”

He blew out his breath. “Fucking shit, but that explains a lot about you.”

I burst out laughing. He looked at me sharply, then joined in a second later. After a few seconds he regained control of himself and looked over at Jill. “And you’re part of this X-Files crap too?”

She made a rude noise. “Look, just because I hang out with these weird peeps doesn’t mean I’m one of them!”

That seemed to relieve Crawford more than anything. “All right. So, what do you really have here, Kara?”

“I have reason to believe that an inanimate creature controlled by supernatural means was involved in the attack on Lida Moran and in the two murders.”

I could see him visible struggling to accept the otherworldly aspect to all of this. “Okay,” he said slowly, voice perhaps a tiny bit shaky. “What do you do now?”

I spread my hands. “For now, treat it like any other investigation.”

Relief filled his eyes. He knew how to handle “any other investigation.”

“We have three victims,” I continued. “Even though Lida survived going into the river, I’m still counting her as a victim.”

“But how is Vic Kerry connected?” Crawford asked.

“Not sure yet,” I said. “One theory is that it’s possible Roger Peeler was the intended victim of Kerry’s murder, since Roger was in the habit of using the workout equipment in Kerry’s office.” I chewed my lower lip in thought for a few heartbeats.

“That would imply that the band is being targeted,” Crawford said, eyes narrowed. He was in his element now that we were talking about more mundane things.

“Yes, but I also found a copy of three NSF checks from Adam Taylor in Kerry’s desk. And I also found this.” I tugged the paper with the initials out of my notebook and passed it to him. “Roger Peeler confirmed that Kerry loaned him fifteen thousand dollars.” I paused. “Or rather, Kerry loaned it to him, and then was nice enough to invest it for him. Plus, Kerry was a real sweet guy and approached Roger with the offer of the loan.”

Crawford’s expression turned dubious. “Real sweet. You have subpoenas out, I take it?”

“I do for Kerry’s info,” I said, “but I’ll be shocked if I get the return back in less than a week.” I couldn’t help but scowl, even though I respected the privacy issues that delayed the release of information. “However, Roger went down to the bank and gave them permission to give me full access to his accounts. I’m going down to the bank in the morning to pick up copies. I’ll also send out subpoenas for Taylor’s financials.” Ugh. I was going to be drowning in boring paperwork soon.

“Sounds like you have it covered. And with the bad checks there’s a link between Taylor and Kerry,” he said.

“Right, but I still have to determine if that link had anything to do with their deaths. I’d like to get a search warrant for Mr. Taylor’s house.”

“Do it,” he agreed. He looked to Ryan. “Would you mind staying here with me while Kara takes care of that?”

“Not at all,” Ryan replied. “Do you mind if Agent Garner accompanies Kara on the search warrant?”

“Not at all,” Crawford replied.

I turned to leave, then stopped. Crap. I pivoted back and caught Crawford’s eye, then gave him a narrow-eyed shake of my head.

He responded with a perplexed look. I scowled and gave my head a slight jerk in Ryan’s direction, then shook my head again.

Crawford merely looked even more baffled. I rolled my eyes, then marched up to Crawford and took him by the arm to pull him a short distance away from Ryan. “Do not say anything about what happened out at the City Towers building to Ryan,” I said in a low voice. “Please,” I added belatedly.

Crawford made a sour noise. “Go do your damn search warrant.”

I gave him a pleading look. “Sarge ...”

He scowled at me. “I won’t say anything. Now would you please get the hell out of here?”

I smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sarge!” I jerked my head at a bemused Zack. “C’mon, Surfer Boy,” I said. “We’re being kicked out.”

Ryan turned to Crawford as I walked past. “How long has she been insane?”

“As long as I’ve known her, Agent Kristoff,” Crawford replied with a dramatic sigh.

“I heard that!” I yelled.

The laughter of the two men followed me out.


This was the kind of search warrant that I preferred. Nobody home, no forced entry, and plenty of time to do what we needed to do.

Adam lived on the edge of town, in a bland little subdivision with only about fifty houses in it, all built from what looked to be a wide variety of four different house plans. There were no trees anywhere in the neighborhood, except for some scrawny twigs that had been stuck in the front yard of each house—one per residence. I assumed they were meant to someday grow into trees, but the tallest one I saw was only four feet high. It would be a long time before this subdivision saw anything resembling shade.

Adam’s house was a single-story ranch, with brick on the front and vinyl siding on the back and sides. There were no cars in the cracked driveway, and the only concession to landscaping was a raggedly mown lawn and the aforementioned twig.

We’d snagged Adam’s keys before heading out to get the search warrant, which meant that we didn’t have to break any windows to get in. I drew my gun, then unlocked the door and pushed it open a couple of feet.

“Beaulac Police Department,” I called into the silent house. “We’re making entry on a search warrant.” I was almost positive that Adam lived alone, however that didn’t necessarily mean that the house was unoccupied.

The only response was the quiet hum of the refrigerator.

I flicked on the lights, then Zack and I went through the house with guns drawn to be absolutely sure there was nothing lurking. The interior looked about as exciting as the outside of the house. The living room held a dull beige sectional sofa and a flat screen television. The kitchen had dishes in the sink—remnants from breakfast it looked like—but the rest was generally tidy and neat. The bedroom had an overflowing laundry hamper and an unmade bed, but the carpet looked as if it had been vacuumed within the last day or so. There were no surprises waiting for us—no bodies splayed out on the kitchen floor or monsters leaping out of corners. We returned to the foyer and holstered our guns.

“You take the bedroom, I’ll take the office?” I suggested.

Zack nodded. “Deal.”

Compared to the rest of the house, the office was practically opulent. It looked like a record executive’s office ought to look, with pictures of celebrities and framed CD covers on the walls. One of the largest pictures was of Adam and the members of Ether Madhouse standing on the Mississippi River levee with the muddy water behind them. All were grinning, with their arms linked around each other, and I had the feeling it had been taken shortly after they’d landed the deal with Levee 9 Records.

A lovely and large dark oak desk dominated the room, pristine except for one neat stack of papers atop it. There were two leather chairs in front of the desk and a luxuriously padded black leather executive chair behind it. I sat in the executive chair and ran my finger along the desk, then peered at the papers. Pursing my lips in thought, I tugged the middle drawer open.

Well, well ... “Yo, Zack,” I called. “Found something interesting.” I pulled the papers out of the drawer and set them on top of the desk.

Zack came into the room. “What’s up?”

I pushed the top paper to him. He picked it up and frowned, then glanced over the other items I’d pulled out.

“Sooo,” he drawled, “according to this, Taylor not only posted the threats on the band’s website, but also paid some guy named Alvin five hundred dollars to dress all in black and grab Lida off the stage.”

“It sure looks that way,” I said. “Wow. That was easy. Case closed!”

Zack sat on the edge of the desk. “Awfully careless of him to leave it where it could be so easily found.”

I let out a snort. “No shit. Especially in an office that he didn’t use very often.”

His gaze raked the room. “Right. His laptop is in his bedroom, as well as paperwork concerning gigs for the band. He probably only used this room if he had to meet with a potential client or some such thing.”

I set my hands on the arms of the chair. “You wanna hear my theory?”

He grinned. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope. You’re a captive audience,” I said with a laugh. “So here’s the thing: I do think Adam knew that Lida was going to get grabbed off the stage, because after she was pulled out of the river, he said, ‘I never thought it would go this far.’ ”

Zack nodded. “But obviously someone else was involved too. Someone who wanted to make it look like it was all Adam’s idea. And then Adam has an unfortunate tumble down the stairs.”

I leaned back in the chair, frowning. “Well, yeah. Someone else was definitely involved since I doubt Adam sicced the thing on himself and then drove it away from the studio. But I’m still wondering if the fact that Adam wrote some bad checks to Vic Kerry has anything to do with either murder.” I chewed my lip in thought.

Zack skimmed the paper in his hand again. “If not for your ability to sense the golem, we wouldn’t know that there was any possibility of a connection between the two murders.” A frown furrowed his brow. “But why not stage Adam’s death as a suicide?”

“I don’t think the golem is sophisticated enough to do what that would entail. No windows to throw him out of at the studio. Maybe they were hoping it would look like an accident.” Damn, but this chair was comfy. I needed to get something like this for my own office.

“Ah. That makes sense. All right, well let’s say that the attack on Lida went too far. So maybe Adam started to get cold feet, and the golem was sent after him to keep him quiet.”

“That makes sense, especially considering the amount of pressure that Ben Moran’s been putting on the department to make it all go away.” Then I grimaced. “Except for the murder of Vic who might have been mistaken for Roger, or the fact that Adam wrote bad checks to Vic, or for the fact that Vic might have loaned money to Adam ...” I pinched the bridge of my nose and grimaced. “Here comes the headache.”

Zack continued to shuffle through the papers. “Let’s focus on one scenario at a time.”

“I’m more than willing to go with that for now,” I agreed, then had to stifle a yawn. “Okay, I’m dying here. Let’s finish this shit up. I’ve had a helluva full day.” I stood and gathered up the papers.

We went through the rest of the house, not finding anything else interesting or incriminating, and nothing that would point us to who the other involved party was. We collected Adam’s laptop and filled a box with papers and various documents to look at later, then headed out.

We exited into full night with the moon high in the sky. “I’m afraid to look at my watch,” I said with a mock-whimper.

Zack grinned. “Why it’s barely eight P.M.”

“Liar,” I replied as I shoved the box and the laptop into the trunk of my car. “But I appreciate the effort.” I slammed the trunk closed. “I think I’m going to start sleeping every other night. This ‘regular sleep cycle’ thing is for wimps.”

“There’s a great science fiction series about people who’ve been genetically engineered to not need sleep,” Zack said, looking up at the sky with a slight frown.

“That’s what I need!”

A slight smile crossed his face. “The books or the not needing sleep?”

I made a rude noise. “If I didn’t need to sleep I might have time to read a book occasionally. I mean, other than for research.” He was still looking at the sky, and I followed his gaze. It was a clear night and the moon was almost three quarters full, but I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

He dropped his gaze and shook his head. “Nothing. Just had a strange—”

A sharp cold wind slammed into us, cutting his words off and whipping dirt into our faces. Good thing I already put the papers in the trunk, was my first thought, quickly chased by a spasm of fear as the wind died.

That felt like the thing at the City Towers building ...

“Zack,” I gasped,“get in the car. There’s something—”

He grabbed me by my arm, almost yanking it out of its socket as he took off at a run, near dragging me along. “No! Car’s not safe. You need to get as far away as possible before it forms!”

I struggled to keep up with him, and only his fierce grip on my arm kept me from sprawling face first. “Before what forms?” I managed to ask. I expected him to veer between the houses, but he kept to the street. Apparently distance was more important than cover.

“It’s a portal,” he said through clenched teeth, pulling me along even though I was running as fast as I could— which, admittedly, wasn’t all that fast. “Can’t you feel it? It’s a summoning!”

I stumbled as his words penetrated, then my shock tripled as Zack hoisted me up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “Hang on!” he ordered. And then ran.

I’d only thought he’d been running before. I clung for dear life as he nearly doubled his pace, sprinting flat-out like an Olympian, and as if he didn’t have my not-so-light weight draped across his shoulders. Holy shit, the man had some seriously inhuman speed.

Oh, shit. The realization slammed home. Zack’s not human.

A few seconds later—though it felt like a few hours—he slowed and stopped, then set me on my feet. He held me carefully to make sure I was steady before releasing me, then stepped back. He didn’t say anything. He seemed to know what I was going to say.

Too bad I didn’t know what I was going to say. “Are we far enough away?” I finally asked.

Zack nodded, eyes steady on me. He looked oddly expectant and bereft at the same time.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. “How did you know it was a summoning?”

“I’ve felt them before,” he answered, voice low.

Them. More than one. “Was it directed at me or you?”

“I have no way to know that,” he said, still terribly calm and quiet.

“If you were to guess,” I prompted.

“I would guess that it was directed at you,” he said with a slight nod, as if to congratulate me on the handling of the question.

A summoning of me. Someone from the demon realm was trying to pull me through a portal, the same way I pulled demons into this world. My knees wanted to shake at everything that implied, but I forced the panic down with every ounce of control I had and took another deep breath. “Are you human?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.

He closed his eyes, naked pain on his face. “I cannot answer that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both,” he replied in little more than a whisper. “I’m bound by oath.”

“You’re a demon,” I breathed. He didn’t move or answer, but I didn’t need him to. What kind of demon can look like a human? I’d never heard of a demon being able to shapeshift. Then again, there was a lot I didn’t know about the demonkind.

“Is Ryan a demon?” I squeaked.

He opened his eyes and met my gaze. “No,” he said, voice soft but firm. Relief swirled through me and for an instant I thought I saw a flash of pity in Zack’s eyes, but then he looked away.

“Is he a summoner?” I was more than willing to keep asking questions as long as Zack would keep answering them, especially since it kept me from thinking about the extremely scary thought of someone trying to summon me.

He hesitated for so long I began to think he wasn’t going to answer. “He has the ability to open a portal,” he finally said, voice very low.

I could feel a knot in my chest relax ever so slightly. A summoner, though perhaps one who’d never been trained in the art. “The demons hate him,” I persisted. “They call him a kiraknikahl. Why? What did he do?”

“I cannot say,” Zack repeated, voice tight and pained. “Only that his punishment was dire. And just.”

I took a step closer to Zack. “Please. I want to help him. He’s my best friend.”

Zack met my eyes. “I know. It’s why I could risk revealing myself to save you from being drawn through the portal.”

The way he phrased that struck me as strange, but before I could pursue it he put his hands on my shoulders. “Kara, I know this pains you deeply, but I am oathbound. I cannot tell you more, either about Ryan or about me.”

I gave a shaky nod of understanding—even though I didn’t. “Now you’re even talking like a demon,” I said in a lame attempt to find a shred of humor.

To my relief he grinned and slouched. “Sorry. Better?”

I mustered a smile. “Much.” I glanced around. “How far are we from the car? Is it safe to go back?”

“We’re a little over a half-mile away, and yes, it should be safe to go back. If you’d like I can run back and get the car and come get you.”

“No!” I said quickly. “I’ll walk it.” Yeah, I was a cop, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be completely freaked out and not want to be left alone.

He seemed to understand. “Nice night for a walk at least.”

We stayed silent for most of the way back, though my thoughts were hideously turbulent.

“Does Ryan know?” I asked when the cars were in sight. “I mean, about you ...”

“He is unaware,” Zack replied. The he stopped and turned to me, expression bleak and worried. “He is unaware of many things. It is for the best. You must trust me in this.” He paused. “Kara, you need to tell Lord Rhyzkahl of this incident the next time you summon him.”

I scrubbed my hand over my face, suddenly feeling horribly defeated. I didn’t want to have to run to the demonic lord for help and protection. Not when it was most likely because of him that I needed it in the first place. But I also knew that not running to him would be unbearably stupid. “I can’t tonight. I’m exhausted.” And shaken and stressed. Attempting to open a portal in this state of mind and at this energy level would be colossally stupid and most likely deadly. “I’ll have to try tomorrow.”

He began to nod then paused, brow furrowing in confusion. His gaze snapped up to the moon.

“Gods above and below,” he whispered. “I am a blind fool. I knew you had summoned Skalz when the moon was but half full, yet I had assumed—” He bit off whatever he was going to say, then took a steadying breath as he shifted his gaze back to me. “But you’ve been summoning the demonic lord—no simple task, even with him amenable.” Worry darkened his eyes. “You’ve found a way to store potency. No wonder you’re a target.”

Even though I’d already considered this, I still felt cold at hearing it from Zack. “It’s not perfect,” I said, feeling strangely defensive. “I mean, I couldn’t summon an unwilling demonic lord or anything.”

For an instant Zack looked as if he wanted to debate the matter with me, but then he seemed to take note of how close I was to totally losing it. “Let’s get out of here,” he said with a gentle smile. “Go home and get some sleep. There’s nothing to be done now anyway.” He draped an arm companionably over my shoulder and guided me to the driver’s side door of my car.

I scraped together a smile for him. “Right. Um, thanks. For ... everything.”

Worry darkened his eyes, but he returned my smile and nodded. Then he turned and walked to his own car without another word.

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