Blood of the Demon (30 page)

“The restaurant was seized,” Ryan continued, “and they didn’t contest it, most likely to keep their son—who
was
known to be the occasional meth user—from spending the next umpteen years in jail for production and distribution.” His scowl deepened. “Even though there was nothing to point to a lab or any way to make that much meth.”

I waited for a few seconds more, then threw up my hands. “Ryan, you’ve completely lost me. What does this have to do with why they were killed? I thought you were trying to convince them to testify in your corruption investigation.”

He exhaled. “I can’t talk about it here. Let’s go back to your aunt’s place and I’ll explain.”

MY STOMACH WAS DOING QUEASY FLIP-FLOPS AS I pulled into my aunt’s driveway, a combination of shock and no food other than my morning coffee. And, since I took my coffee thick and sweet, I now faced a serious comedown off the caffeine and sugar high.

A headache indicated that it wanted to take up residence behind my eyes, and I squinted against the noonday sun as I walked up the stairs to the porch. I heard a low rumble from the west and I glanced up, seeing the dark mass of clouds on the horizon that promised afternoon thunderstorms.
About time
. The harsh weather could be a shock to people who weren’t from this area, but the near-daily thunderstorms were about the only thing that made the summers bearable. The temperature would drop about ten degrees, and even though the humidity would climb up into the sodden figures, it was still better than the relentless heat. And I could handle the humidity just fine. I’d dry up and flake away in a desert climate.

Another low rumble accompanied me as I unwound
the aversion on the door. As if answering the thunder, my impending headache gave a warning throb as I slid my key into the lock.
Painkillers
, I thought.
And food
. I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and I glanced back to verify that it was Ryan. It was. And, even better, I saw that he had bags in his hand—the kind of bags that fast-food establishments packaged their wares in.

Finally, something was going right with my day.

I turned the key and stopped dead, hand still holding the key as my heart did a little jump. The door had already been unlocked. I released the breath I was holding and let go of the key, backing away from the door and pulling my gun from my holster. How much noise had I made coming up the stairs? I could hear movement within. As I slid to the side to get better cover, I could see a figure moving around, but it was impossible to see who—or what—it was through the sheer curtains.
But the ward had still been up
, I thought. I knew that much.

I turned to signal to Ryan but discovered that I didn’t need to. He was sharp and must have seen me back away from the door. The bags of food had been abandoned on the hood of his car, and he stood at the base of the steps, his own gun drawn.

“Someone’s in there,” I mouthed silently. He gave me a small nod in response, waiting for me to take the lead.

With the door unlocked, it was an easy entry. I pushed the door open with one hand, quickly moving to avoid being framed in the doorway. “Beaulac Police,” I shouted, covering the hallway and entry to the kitchen with my Glock. “Come out where I can see you!” In my peripheral vision I could see Ryan entering smoothly and shifting to a position where he could cover the areas I couldn’t.

“Oh, shit!” I heard a male voice from the kitchen. “Kara, it’s just me.”

I couldn’t place the voice, though it was familiar. “Come out where I can see you, and keep your hands in plain sight!”

I don’t think I could have possibly been more surprised if the pope had exited the kitchen. Instead, it was Carl, Dr. Lanza’s gangly morgue tech, stepping cautiously through the doorway, his eyes wide and his hands raised. “Kara, it’s just me.”

I struggled for words for a couple of seconds as I tried to process why the fuck the morgue tech would be here.
Could he be the one who’s been screwing around with the wards?
If he was a summoner, I’d eat my left shoe. “What are you doing here?” I finally managed to ask, not yet lowering my gun.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the place ever since Tess has been in the hospital.”

A piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
“You’ve
been mowing the lawn?” And Carl was tall, thin, with light-hazel eyes. Melanie-the-dingbat’s description hadn’t been far from the truth after all.

He smiled faintly. “Yes, and doing the edging, and weeding her gardens. And I fixed a busted window, and her roses needed some pruning too, so I—”

“Why?” Ryan interrupted, voice sounding oddly harsh in the hallway. “Why do you give a shit about Tessa’s roses?”

Carl blinked. “Well, she’s my girlfriend,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes flicked from Ryan and then to me. “You didn’t know?”

“No!” The word came out somewhat strangled. I holstered my gun and roughly shoved my hand through my
hair. “No, she never saw fit to inform me that she had a … social life.” Not that it was all that shocking … Okay, it
was
all that shocking. This was Tessa. Weird, strange, quirky Tessa, who summoned demons in her house. I frowned. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but my aunt is kinda … strange. And has some, er, secrets.” Gah. This was starting to sound like she was some sort of spy. An insane one.

Carl lowered his hands, a small smile curving his mouth. “I know. She summons”—his gaze flicked quickly to Ryan, and I could see Carl censor himself—“strange creatures,” he finished instead of what he was obviously going to say.

“Demons,” Ryan growled.

Carl nodded once. “Yes, she’s a summoner of demons.”

I took a careful breath. I really didn’t want to eat my left shoe. “Are
you
?”

“No. I just like her. A lot.”

Ryan had holstered his gun as well and regarded Carl with a frown. “It’s easy to say you’re someone’s boyfriend if they’re not here to support the story.”

Carl inclined his head in understanding. “Yes, I know what you’re saying.” He thought for a few seconds, then looked at me. “She told me that when you were fourteen, you had to be taken to the hospital for a drug overdose.”

I flushed hotly. Trust Tessa to share that bit of wonder-fulness. My teen years—before I began training to be a summoner—had been an unpleasant foray into drugs, rebellion, and general acting-out. If not for the summoning and the focus that helped me get my life back on track, I’d probably be dead by now. “All right, you two know each other pretty well, I guess.” Then I frowned. “So you’re not
a summoner, but you must know how to shape wards. I had to take them down to come in.”

He shook his head. “Actually, they don’t affect me.”

“’Scuse me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t really know why or how. Honestly, I know that there
are
wards only because Tessa showed me their effect on others. But they don’t affect me. I can walk right through them.”

“That’s … interesting,” I said, unable to put anything more coherent into words. But at least some things were starting to make sense. “You’ve been visiting my aunt at the neuro center?”

“Yes. I don’t know if it helps, but it makes me feel better. Look, if you’re convinced that I’m not robbing the place, I really need to get going. I’m on call today.”

“Um, sure.”
Tessa has a boyfriend
. It would take some time for me to wrap my mind around that one. “Thanks for taking care of the lawn.”

He inclined his head slightly, then gave more of a nod to Ryan. “I’ll be seeing you around, then.” And with that he slipped out the door. I watched him as he walked off down the street.

“He must live in the area?” Ryan said as much as asked.

“I’ll check,” I said, grimacing. “I’ll check it all out. But I need to eat first.”

“I’ll go get your gourmet repast,” Ryan said.

“I’m going to look through the rest of the house.” I believed Carl, which was odd, considering how shocked I’d been to hear that he and Tessa were an item, but it was the kind of thing that was utterly believable even if I never would have thought of it on my own. Still, I felt a fairly compulsive need to search and secure the house and the library. I could believe they were dating, but that didn’t
mean that he wasn’t also out to find something.
Like an open portal that my darling aunt failed to tell me about
.

I sighed and scrubbed at my face as I entered the library and flicked on the lights. Tessa could be erratic, impulsive, and even annoying at times, but I could never say that she didn’t always have my best interests at heart.
Plus, she’s mine
, I thought fiercely.

I quickly examined the wards in the library, especially the ones over and around the portal, finding nothing amiss.
But would I even know?
It was shameful, really, that my skills were so weak. I clearly had the ability and the affinity to handle and see the wards. And the more I came to know about my aunt and the wardings in her house, the more my suspicion grew that Tessa’s ability to ward was also minimal at best. She had enough skill to shape the protections needed for summonings, but beyond that it looked as if she’d relied on others to do the work for her.

I squared my shoulders and returned to the kitchen, replacing the wards as I left the library. Ryan came in and sat on a stool on the opposite side of the counter from me, setting two bags from Taco House and a pad of paper in front of him.

“Let’s start figuring out what we know,” he said as he pulled about a dozen wrapped tacos out of the bag.

“Okay. We’ll just list everything to start,” I said. “Carol and Brian Roth are dead. Davis Sharp is dead. Brian and Sharp both had their essence eaten. A demon dog-thing attacked us. And the Galloways had their essence ripped away and are dead.”

He nodded, jotting quick notes in a crabbed script. “And your aunt has an open portal in her library, and you were attacked by a—a psycho pixie-thing.”

I unwrapped a taco, dribbling cheese onto the black
granite of the countertop. “The big question I have is whether there’s really a connection between any of this shit.”

“I’m not finished,” Ryan said, still writing. “We should include the fact that I’m investigating Judge Harris Roth for misconduct.”

I’d just taken a bite of taco, and I was forced to actually continue to chew and then swallow instead of staring at him openmouthed.
“He’s
the one you’re investigating? ’Splain, please?”

He wiped a strand of lettuce off his chin with the back of his hand. “Witness intimidation, improper disposition of drug seizure property, possible planting of drug evidence, not pursuing cases against major supporters. That sort of thing.”

I felt a little mental click as a couple of pieces fit together. “The Galloways?”

“Exactly. After their restaurant was seized, it was auctioned. To Davis Sharp.”

The damn lightbulb finally went off over my head. “Ohhhhh. That’s Sharp’s restaurant now!”

Ryan gave me a thin smile. “Correct. And Sharp bought it for a song. The judge who presided over the seizure and the plea deal concerning the son was …” He looked at me expectantly.

“Judge Roth,” I breathed. “Who also happened to receive horking big campaign contributions from Davis Sharp, and had for the last ten years or so. Whoa. So he’s dirty?”

“It appears so. We think that the entire drug bust and seizure was a frame-up, just so Davis Sharp could get his hands on that property.” He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes. “We’d been working with the Galloways for several
months now—trying to build a corruption case against the not-so-honorable Judge Roth. Unfortunately, they weren’t as cooperative as we’d hoped.”

“Why not? I would think that they’d want to see Roth taken down.”

His face twisted in annoyance and frustration. “They did. But they also wanted significant financial restitution, and fairly soon. Sam was pretty ill, and the medical bills were crushing them. They weren’t happy when we had to tell them that there was no guarantee that restitution would happen and, even if it did, it might take years. That sort of thing is completely out of our control.”

I groaned. “So they resorted to blackmail.”

His expression darkened. “That’s our best guess.”

I looked at him for several heartbeats. “Whoever killed them is also our essence-eater. But you’re not convinced that it was Roth who pulled the trigger, are you?”