Sins of the Demon

Chapter 16

I’d just finished changing back into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt when Jill entered the front door. She flashed a smile at me, then stopped dead at the sight of the demon waiting patiently in the living room.

“Good, you brought the stuff,” I said, moving forward to take the bag from her hand. “I appreciate it.”

“Sure thing,” she replied unsteadily. She swallowed, frowned. “Is, um, this the demon…?” She wrenched her gaze over to me, and I couldn’t tell if the pleading in her eyes wanted me to say yes or no.

Exhaling, I nodded. I totally understood her reaction. Nyssor looked almost exactly like human children. This particular one looked like a little boy, perhaps four years old, and utterly beautiful, with flaxen curls and an angelic face. The “almost” part came in when you looked at their eyes, which were a little too large and had sideways-slit pupils. And the features were a little too perfect. They definitely fell into that “uncanny valley” territory. Creepy.

I crouched by the demon and pulled clothing out of the bag. “Jill, this is Votevha. He’s a nyssor—a fifth-level demon. Votevha, this is Jill. She is my friend.”

The demon’s eyes shifted to Jill. “Friend,” he repeated in a high treble. It bared its teeth in a vulpine smile full of hundreds of sharp teeth.

Jill paled. “Jesus,” she muttered, but she managed to pull together a smile of her own. “So nice to meet you.”

“I have clothing for you,” I told the demon. “Do you require assistance?”

He shook his head and took the pants and shirt from me, examined them briefly, then slipped them on easily. He gave me a questioning look. “Good?” he said.

“Good,” I said with a nod. “There are shoes, too.”

He pulled them on while I straightened and turned to Jill. “Did you bring the booster seat?”

“Yeah, borrowed it from my next door neighbor. Told her I was babysitting for a friend.” She gave a mock shudder. “I hope she doesn’t think I’m available to babysit her little darlings.” She paused, looked at the demon with a slight frown pulling at her lips. “Does, um, he really need one?”

“Nope,” I said, “but if by some chance I get stopped, I don’t want to get a ticket for not having my demon properly secured.”

Part of my text to Jill had been to ask her to bring her personal car instead of her crime scene van. Since I didn’t have an overly large demon to tote around, I figured it was better if we went with something a little less obvious. In theory we could have used my departmental vehicle, but since I was on administrative leave, I didn’t want to be seen driving it around too much, just in case someone remembered that, technically, I should have been asked to turn my keys in for the duration of my leave. And I didn’t currently have a personal vehicle. About a year and a half ago, the engine of the ancient Honda Civic I’d been driving since college had finally gone into a spectacular meltdown after two hundred and forty thousand miles. Buying another car—even a crummy used one—had been beyond my budget and relegated into the category of “things I really should do one of these days.”

Luckily Jill had a nearly new Nissan X-Terra. It took a few minutes to figure out how to belt the demon into the booster seat, and then we were on our way.

Jill glanced over at me after we were both in the car, and gave me a wink. “Look at us being all domestic and mom-like and shit.”

I let out a snort of laughter. “Take a picture. This is the closest I’m likely to get.”

The drive into town was uneventful, though I discovered that Votevha had a preference for National Public Radio. We parked about a block down the street from the coffee shop and walked, the demon trotting along between us. I couldn’t help but be amazed at how much he resembled a human child—not just in looks, but in demeanor as well. He paused to tug on a fluttering piece of tinsel, darted forward to peer at a bug crawling along the sidewalk, pointed and laughed at a battered snowman decoration.

Apparently he looked convincingly child-like to others as well. A middle-aged woman dressed in a full-length leather coat and a fur hat paused in her cell phone conversation as we approached. She frowned as her gaze came to rest on the demon.

“That child needs a coat!” she informed us with an imperious sniff as we passed her.

I gritted my teeth and kept going. “Pushy bitch,” I muttered. I’d even asked the demon if he was cold. What, I was supposed to make him wear a coat he would be uncomfortable in?

“Maybe Votevha can go smile at her,” Jill said, eyes glinting wickedly.

The demon stopped, looked back at the woman. His eyes narrowed, and then he looked back up at me. “Free.”

I blinked, then shook my head, fighting back a smile. “I am grateful for the offer, but it is best that we remain discreet.”

He nodded once, and continued walking. Jill and I fell into step on either side of him again.

Jill gave me a baffled look. “What was that about?”

My lips twitched. “Votevha was offering to, ah, smile at that woman as a free service. Apparently he thought she was a pushy bitch too.”

The demon gave a firm nod. “Bitch.”

Jill grinned broadly. “Eloquent and no doubt accurate.”

We slowed as we neared the shop. “Okay, I see his car here,” I said, nodding toward the BMW parked across the street. “You two sure you can handle this?” I shot Jill a concerned look.

“Oh, please,” Jill said. “We walk in, we walk by his table, Votevha here grabs his hand and assesses him, we walk out.” She looked down at the angelic-looking demon. “Did I miss anything?”

He shook his head. “Perfect.”

“All righty, then,” Jill said. She gave me a reassuring look and took the demon’s little hand. “Let’s roll!”

I waited until they entered then followed. Despite the demon’s confidence, there was still plenty that could go wrong. If Roman was a summoner and got a good look at Votevha’s eyes, he’d instantly recognize a nyssor and know that we were on to him. Maybe I should have found sunglasses for the demon, I fretted as I walked into the coffee shop.

Roman was at a table against the far wall. He’d apparently been watching for me, and he lifted his hand in greeting when he saw me. I gave him a nod in response, but I was also trying to keep an eye on Jill and Votevha without actually looking their way and drawing attention to them.

I started moving toward Roman as Jill and the demon went past his table. In a smooth, effortless move, Votevha set his hand on Roman’s without even looking at him, without even a hitch in his stride, then pulled his little hand away as he walked beyond the reach of his arm. It looked like nothing but a curious kid who wanted to touch everything around him.

Fucking hells, I hoped the contact was long enough.

“Oh, darn,” I heard Jill mutter. “C’mon, sweetie, Auntie Jill forgot her purse.” The pair turned around, retraced their steps through the tables, and a few seconds later were out the door.

I gave Roman a broad smile, and pulled a report out of my bag. “Hi, Roman. I’m so sorry to call you down here, but I really need to get this sewn up. My sergeant’s on my ass, and I’m in a huge rush.” I handed him a pen and plopped the report down in front of him, positioning it so that he could only see the last page which, conveniently, had nothing case-related on it. Important, since this report was for a completely different case, due to the inconvenient fact that I had yet to write anything up on the Landrieu death.

He chuckled, lifted the pen, signed where I was pointing. “Not a problem. Anything else you need?”

“That’s it,” I said with a cheery smile. “Thanks a million!” I quickly scurried out before I could be drawn into any conversation. Less than a minute later I was climbing into the car where Jill and Votevha were already waiting.

“Well?” I twisted around to look at the demon. “Is he a summoner?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I sagged back in my seat. “Damn.” Then I jumped in shock at a tap on the window. I turned, half expecting to see Roman, but instead it was Eilahn, expression grim.

I hit the button to lower the window while trying to get my pulse back under control.

“We have a problem,” she said.

“You mean, besides the fact that Roman isn’t the summoner, and we’re back to square one?”

“Yes. Someone is trying to get to the house.” Her eyes narrowed. “Several someones. I think they are there to search it.”

“Shit!” I gripped the steering wheel as my mind whirled. “The basement. Fuck. My implements. The summoning circle and the storage diagram. It needs to be cleaned. I can’t let anyone see that storage diagram.”

Her expression grew dark. She understood my concern. I’d created that diagram with a generous boost from Lord Rhyzkahl. He’d seemed very pleased when I discovered the way to store potency, which made me believe that it had been his intent to point the way. But as corny as it sounded, such a diagram in the wrong hands could be pretty damn dangerous. With a sufficient quantity of stored power, a summoner would have little problem calling and binding a demonic lord. Even Zack had posited that the reason I was a target was because I knew how to store potency. I wasn’t completely convinced of that, since I had yet to figure out how to increase the capacity, but then again, someone else might be able to work that out. At any rate, for now, it was surely best to keep the details of the diagram secret.

She placed a hand on my arm. “I will go there at speed and remove all evidence of your arcane activities.” Her eyes went to the demon sitting in a booster seat in the back of my car. “Protect her if the need arises. I will pay.”

“Done,” came the treble reply. Then I blinked and Eilahn was gone.

“That’s so hard core,” Jill said under her breath. I gave her a questioning look, and she grinned. “The way she does that gone in a flash thing. I wonder if she practices it?”

“Yes,” Votevha piped up.

Jill and I stared at each other for a second, then burst out laughing.

There were three cars parked in front of my house when I made it home. A St. Long Sheriff’s Office vehicle, a Beaulac PD vehicle, and an unmarked black Crown Victoria that I recognized as Sergeant Cory Crawford’s. Actually, they were parked about fifty feet from my house, at the outer edge of the open area in front of my house.

I took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in telling Jill to go around them. She obliged with a grim smile and parked right smack up by my porch, next to my departmental vehicle and a different Crown Vic—a familiar dark blue one. I couldn’t help but smile. Eilahn had recruited reinforcements again.

“Why are they parked way back there?” Jill asked as we got out. She looked back at the cars in my driveway.

“They’re held up by the aversions,” I said, and quickly explained how they worked. She hadn’t had to experience them, since I’d made sure to adjust the wards to allow her access before she’d come over. “They probably aren’t even aware they’re being delayed,” I said with a lift of my chin toward the cars out in the driveway. “Most likely they all suddenly had the urge to make a phone call or check their email. That sort of thing.”

“That’s a relief,” she said, a satisfied smile curving her mouth. “Is Eilahn finished with the basement?” Jill asked as she gave the nyssor a hand out of the car.

“Hope so,” I said. “It’d be bad enough if people saw the diagram and all the other stuff in my basement, but that would simply brand me as a weirdo.” I snorted. “I think I have that designation pretty well sewn up right now anyway. It’s the storage diagram I’m most worried about. I can’t risk pictures of it leaking out.” I glanced over at the Crown Vic. “Looks like Ryan might be helping her as well.” I had to grin at the image of those two working together.

“Safe,” Votevha said abruptly.

I gave him a nod. “Thanks. Jill, why don’t you take Votevha around back. There’s no need for them to talk to either of y’all.”

She nodded and complied, mouth tight as she and the demon headed around the house. About half a minute later it was clear that Eilahn had deactivated the protections, because the men seemed to remember why they were there. They continued up the driveway, and parked about twenty feet from the house. I fought to keep a neutral expression on my face. Despite my preparations and the support of my friends, my stomach was a churning mess, and only a fraction of it was due to the cuff on my arm.

I didn’t recognize the deputy who stepped out of the St. Long Parish Sheriff’s Office vehicle. Ruddy complexion, stout build with a slight pot belly, and bright red hair cut in a flat top. His duty belt held a Sig Sauer .45 on one side and a Taser on the other. He gave me a nod and a thin, polite smile. “Miz Gillian?” he asked.

I didn’t bother correcting him with “detective” since it didn’t matter right now. “That’s me. They dug up probable cause for a search warrant? Or are y’all here to sing Christmas carols?”

He gave me a wider smile that revealed a number of gaps in his teeth. “I love me some carols, ma’am, but these folks have a warrant to serve.” It was a Beaulac PD case, but since I inconveniently lived outside of city limits they needed an observer and representative of the St. Long Parish Sheriff’s Office.

Tracy Gordon climbed out of the Beaulac PD car, looking deeply uncomfortable at the whole situation.

“You know I have to do this, right, Kara?” he said, apology etched into his dark features.

“It’s cool, Tracy,” I said. “It’s bullshit, but the sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get back to figuring out who the fuck is behind all this.”

Cory walked up to join Tracy. “It is bullshit,” he muttered. Then he swept his gaze over the exterior of my house and the decorations. “Holy shit, Gillian. You have the whole fucking north pole here.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “My, ah, roommate was expressing herself.”

My front door opened, and Ryan stepped out. He gave the various cops a polite nod, closed the door behind him, and came down the steps to join me. I gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” I murmured.

“Anytime,” he said, warm affection in his eyes.

A fourth car came down the driveway and parked next to Sarge’s. “Who’s that?” Ryan asked.

“That’s my chief,” I told him. “He’s cool. He’ll make sure this doesn’t become…” I trailed off as both doors opened, and the chief and Mayor Fussell exited the car.

“Oh, hell no.” I strode forward. “With all due respect to both of you, Chief Turnham, he—” I jabbed a finger at the mayor “—is not allowed into my house.”

Chief Turnham gave me a pained look. “Detective Gillian—”

“No,” I stated as firmly as I could. I planted myself in my driveway between them and my house. “He’s not law enforcement. He has zero jurisdiction or authorization to enter my residence. I absolutely do not give consent for him to enter.”

I swung around to the deputy who was watching the proceedings with thinly veiled amusement. “If he sets foot anywhere inside my residence or any of the outbuildings, I intend to press charges for trespassing.”

The deputy grinned, spat a stream of brown onto my gravel. “Works for me.”

The mayor narrowed his eyes, then turned to the chief. “Robert, are you going to put up with this?”

Chief Turnham looked from me to the mayor and spread his hands. “Not much I can do. She’s right.”

Mayor Fussell’s face flushed red as he rounded on the deputy. “This woman is suspected of serial murder. Do you seriously intend to keep me from assisting in the search for evidence?”

The deputy spat another stream of tobacco juice then hiked his belt up. “With all due respect, yer mayorness, you ain’t a cop,” he drawled in his thick country accent, “and Louisiana Revised Statute title fourteen section sixty-two point three says that if she says yer ass can’t go in there and you do, then I can arrest yer ass.” He folded his arms over his broad chest and smiled a gap-toothed smile at the mayor.

Mayor Fussell’s face went cold, and he turned and stalked back to the car without another word. The chief sighed heavily. “Gillian, I respect that you have the right to ban him from your house, but was that really necessary?”

I met his gaze. “I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t, sir.” And why the hell is Mayor Fussell so keen to get inside my house?

I leaned against my car, crossed my arms over my chest. Ryan came beside me and crossed his arms in an echo of my stance. I couldn’t match his dark glower, though. I needed to work on that.

I saw that Jill and Votevha had retreated to the back of the house and were sitting on a bench, observing with a careful disinterest. There was no way to know where Eilahn had gone, but I knew she’d stay out of sight. I continued to give the mayor the stink eye while the others entered my house. Tracy gave me another look full of regret as he followed the rest in, a camera slung about his neck. Usually someone from the crime lab came along on search warrants to photograph and record the scene.

“I hope Jill doesn’t get in trouble for being here,” I murmured, suddenly worried.

“Relax,” Ryan replied softly. “She’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t convinced. The mayor was definitely the sort to carry a grudge. Maybe he wouldn’t even realize she was a Beaulac PD employee.

“By the way,” I said, “Roman’s not our guy.”

Ryan grimaced. “I know. Eilahn filled me in. When she wasn’t ordering me to scrub, that is.”

I bit back a laugh. “Is it wrong if I say, I wish I could have seen that?”

“You’re a mean woman, Kara Gillian.”

I hugged my arms around me as I listened to footsteps in my house. I’d conducted any number of search warrants in my years in law enforcement, and I’d always done my best to try and ignore the looks on the people’s faces as we violated their privacy and rummaged through their personal belongings. It was horrible and intrusive, but I could try to take solace in the fact that I’d done my best to make sure it was done with the goal of preventing or solving a crime.

But this was complete fucking bullshit. This was someone fucking with my life just to fuck with it. I resisted the urge to shoot a death glare at the mayor. “Is it just me,” I muttered to Ryan, “or does the mayor seem hell-bent on getting into my house?”

Ryan flicked me a glance. “You think he could be the summoner?”

I cast a sideways look at Peter Fussell. “Fuck, I don’t know, but he sure is acting weird. I mean, I know he hates me, but what if all this is just because he wants a look at my summoning chamber? Or the storage diagram?”

A grimace passed over Ryan’s face. “If so, he’s tipping his hand pretty heavily. And how would he know about it anyway?”

“He could have learned of it from a demon,” I said after some brief thought. “I’ve used it to summon quite a few demons, so I would imagine that word has spread a bit.” I jammed my hands into my pockets and hunched my shoulders. “This sucks.” I didn’t mind them sifting through my not-so-delicates, but the thought of them rooting around my basement made my stomach hurt.

“Can you get the demon you just summoned to check him out?” Ryan asked.

“That would be ideal,” I replied, “I’ll need to renegotiate terms with him.” I glanced at my watch. “Shit. Maybe not. He’s been here for a long time.” At Ryan’s questioning look I explained, “The lower-level demons can only stay a couple of hours. Not like reyza who can stay most of a day or longer.” In fact I really needed to dismiss the nyssor soon, but I couldn’t do that until all the searchers had left. Crap. I didn’t want to draw attention to the demon by going to check on him. Instead I pulled my phone out and thumbed in a quick text to Jill. How is he doing?

A few seconds later the reply came: he says he’s tired. Yep, I’d have to find another way to check out the mayor.

It was nearly twenty minutes later when Chief Turnham emerged, followed by my sergeant and Tracy.

The mayor straightened and lifted his chin as the chief walked down my steps. “Well? Did you find the evidence you need?”

I was thrilled to see the Chief Turnham give the mayor a withering look. “No, we didn’t find any evidence. I told you this was a waste of time.”

Well, that confirmed my suspicion that Mayor Fussell had been the supreme driving force behind this crap.

Fussell’s face twisted into a scowl. “You didn’t look hard enough. Get back in there and tear the place apart! She has drugs hidden in there somewhere. You know she had to have poisoned those people!”

Chief Turnham’s eyes narrowed, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Hey, asshole!” I shouted as I stalked over toward him. “You got a problem with me, that’s fine, but while you’re dicking around with this shit, the real killer’s sitting back laughing at us.” Unless it’s you, I added in a silent death glare.

He drew himself up. “What did you call me?”

I stopped, thought back to my words. “I’m pretty sure I called you an asshole. But that was wrong of me to do. I meant to call you a complete blithering fucking asshole idiot.”

“Gillian!” The chief’s voice snapped out. “That’s enough.”

I struggled to hold onto my anger. I had the cuff on—this was my own very righteous fury. “Really? He won’t be happy until he tears my house to the ground to look for evidence that doesn’t fucking exist! I want him off my property. Now!”

“Detective Gillian, dial it down,” he said through gritted teeth.

I took a ragged breath. “Certainly, sir. But as a citizen, I respectfully state that this man is not welcome on my property.

Fussell sneered. “I’m an elected official. I’m on official business.”

The deputy cleared his throat. “Nope. Yer out of yer jurisdiction, and yer not law enforcement. Under title fourteen section sixty-three, if she forbids you to stay on her property, and you don’t leave, then I’m obliged to carry out my duty as an officer of the law.” He spat, then added. “Y’ain’t my boss, Mister Mayor.”

Fussell stared at the deputy, then spun and marched back to the chief’s car, got in, and slammed the door.

The chief gave me a dark glare. “Gillian, the only reason you didn’t just earn yourself a suspension for insubordination is because, as you said, you were acting as a citizen and not as an officer of the law, and these were most assuredly extenuating and trying circumstances. But, from here on out, if you so much as look sideways at the mayor, or fail to calm your shit down when I tell you to, you’ll be out of a job so fast your head will spin. Am I clear?”

I’d never seen the chief so angry. And especially not at me. “Yes, sir,” I replied, as meekly as I could.

He turned, stalked to his car, and drove off. I let out an unsteady breath and then turned to the deputy. “Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how grateful I am.”

He chuckled. “No problem. Fussell’s my brother-in-law. He’s a complete dickweed. This was the most fun I’ve had in months.” Giving me a wink, he climbed into his car then headed off down my driveway.

Smiling weakly, I walked back to my house. Sarge stood on the bottom step.

“Did y’all take anything?” I asked. By law if anything was seized, they had to provide a receipt.

“Just pictures,” he said. “Probably would have seized your computer, except apparently you don’t have one.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. I replied with an innocent shrug. “Anyway,” he continued, “sorry about all this.”

“Not your fault.” I glanced back at Tracy. “Just, please make sure those pics don’t get out. I don’t trust the mayor. He’s up to something.”

“They won’t,” Tracy assured me gravely. “Promise.”

“Thanks, y’all,” I said, suddenly insanely weary.

“But, Kara?” Tracy said. I turned back and gave him a questioning look. “You might want to do something about that bag of old gym clothes in your closet.” He gave a comic shudder. “Next time warn a brother!”

“Damn,” I said. “I should have given those to the mayor!”