Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 (17 page)

Oblivious to Cheney’s mental lifestyle readjustment, Karl continued his lecture on the structure of a chimera.

“So, in essence, this creature was assembled, for lack of a better word. Built from a variety of components that do not coexist well in a single entity. Hence the disintegration when it tried to assume its real appearance.”

“The pieces flew apart?”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.” Karl nodded approvingly at Pandora’s comment. “And thank God for that. It wouldn’t have been a lap dog, that’s for sure. Unless you’re into having your lap eaten by your pet.” His eyes turned to Pandora’s crotch.

“Moving
on
…” Buck interrupted that line of thought.

“Spoilsport.” Karl sighed. “Anyway, girls and boys, that’s the bottom line. There are still a few angles I’m working on, pulling as much as I can out of what I’ve got and theorizing the rest. But you have the general idea.”

“Yeah.” Cheney nodded. “Thanks, Karl.” He turned to Buck, who could always read his intentions if not his thoughts. “I guess that wraps it up.”

“I have a couple of other things for Karl. Some official business. You wanna hang here with me for a bit while these two go wreak havoc in the stores?”

Seeing Pandora open her mouth to protest and Lian’s eyebrows curving into a frown, Cheney nodded.

“Go for it ladies. Max out the cards.” He waved a hand at the equipment. “This’ll be boring as hell anyway.” He glanced pointedly at the sweatshirt Pandora was wearing. “And I’ll be needing
that
back soon. I’m low on casual wear.”

Lian wrinkled her nose at Buck. “I can tell when we’re not wanted.” She chuckled. “It’s sports, isn’t it? Mega screen, probably something masquerading as a fridge with some beer in it. Typical Sunday. Typical guys. Wanna go for it, Pandora?”

Outnumbered, Pandora shrugged. “Okay. I guess so.”

“Here.” Buck tossed keys at Lian. “Take the truck. Just don’t fill it. I didn’t get a raise this year.”

“Caveman mentality, honey. What’s yours is mine, remember?”

The lighthearted chatter continued until the women had left the lab and Cheney looked pointedly at Buck. “She’s good.”

“That’s why I married her.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” Buck smiled. “She sensed we needed to get some more details. And she’ll pump me for ’em later, let me tell you.”

“Lucky you.”

“Hey. You’re not doing bad in that department either, pal.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay.”

“Time to get to the real dirt?”

“Oh yeah.” Buck nodded. “Gimme, Karl.”

“Ghouls.” Karl, who had patiently waited out the byplay, spoke the word with a measure of disgust. “You may have seen the report that one cropped up recently.”

“We got it,” confirmed Buck.

“This thing wasn’t an accident of nature, guys. Ghoul DNA doesn’t just crop up. It’s rare and the timing makes me think somebody went to great lengths to get some of it.” He grimaced. “All the evidence I have suggests that this was deliberately created. And that’s not something I’d want my women to know either.”

“Shit.” Cheney paced, thoughts rampaging through his mind. “I found a link between the place that thing came from and the Svengali Project.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Buck froze. “That’s not anything I wanted to hear.”

“I know.” Turning to Karl, Cheney gave him a few links and within moments all three heads were focused on the screen, reading the basics—and more—of Svengali and its aftermath.

Finally, Karl leaned back. “Well, that’s it. Prendergast’s research areas could easily overlap with DNA manipulation. But how that woman could be doing it, I have no freakin’ clue. No matter how smart she is, she’s still eighty-five years old.”

“It’s circumstantial at best.” The cop in Cheney wriggled with discomfort. “We’ve got no grounds at all for a search warrant.”

“But there’s nothing to stop us taking an evening stroll.” Buck touched the map file and brought it up on the screen. “Behind the Larson estate is public land.”

“Oh, and look here.” Karl’s fingers flew. “A solar power unit.”

“What’s so strange about that?”

“Ordinarily, nothing. But this is a big one, all the bells and whistles. I doubt one old lady is using that kind of power on a daily basis, no matter how big her house is.”

“Hmm.” Buck tilted his head and studied the screen. “Any way to find out how much power she’s drawing from that thing?”

“Sure.” Karl fiddled with a few things. “Oh wow. Lookee here. She’s pulling around ten times what she should be. She’s running that unit at full capacity. That, my friends, might well be what you smart detective types call a
clue
.” He lifted his eyebrows at them as he turned in his chair.

Since private individual power figures weren’t public information or accessible without some kind of official warrant, Cheney overlooked the smart-mouthed comment. They’d have missed this if it wasn’t for Karl.

“I’m thinking all of this is suggesting a field trip, partner.”

Buck nodded. “Yep. Thinking the same thing myself.”

Karl sighed. “Love it when you lusty lads talk cop.” He switched to a topological map. “My suggestion? Look for anything indicating an underground facility. I’m not seeing any hints of it from this perspective, but it’s the only logical assumption.” He leaned back. “Oh, and don’t get yourselves shot or anything. Wear boots and take a sweater.”

“Yes, Mom.” Buck grinned.

“
Weeelll
.” Karl’s mobile face turned wicked. “I’d be willing to bet my best spectrum analyzer that neither of you cowboys is gonna tell the little women what you’re going to do. So I figured I’d be the voice of reason.”

“Smart man.” Cheney nodded at him. “So the only question is
when
?”

Sadly, the answer came more quickly than either man had anticipated.

Not soon enough
.

Chapter Fourteen

The news broke in the media first thing Monday morning. It wasn’t news to Pandora, however. Her shopping trip had screamed to a halt when both women’s cell phones rang and they hurried back to the truck with a modest amount of packages.

Lian gunned it and got them back to Cheney’s, where Buck whisked her off with barely a goodbye, leaving Pandora alone, since her “landlord” was already at the station.

Buck’s face said it all. It was bad.

Asking no questions, Pandora waved them off. A couple of hours later, when she’d unpacked and tried not to think too much about what might be happening, she got a quick call.

“Sorry, Pandora.” He sounded harassed and edgy. “This one’s a bitch and a half. I’ll be late.”

“Don’t worry about me.” She cradled the phone next to her ear. “You okay?”

There was a pause. “Right now? No. This one’s pretty bad. I thought I’d had enough of ’em with that basilisk killer. Seems Buck and I get cursed with FIS duty all too often.”

FIS. First Investigator on Scene. “Do your thing. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

“Thanks. I’ll be late, I expect.”

“I’ll leave the porch light on.”

A click signaled the end of the conversation and Pandora swore at herself. “
Leave the porch light on
? What the hell am I, some kind of ancient housewife? Sheesh.” She shook her head.

True to his word, Cheney was late. Midnight had already passed when she heard him pull into the driveway, and within minutes he was sliding naked into bed with her.

“You okay?” She shivered a little at the cool touch of his skin.

“I am now. Why aren’t you in my bed?” He yawned. “Never mind. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

She turned in his arms, letting the heat from her body seep into his. Spooned together, she could almost sense the exact moment he tumbled into sleep.

So much for hot sex.

That night set the rhythm for the rest of the week, and when Pandora saw the headlines she realized why. It was a horrific killing, the details of which were gruesomely spread across the front pages of every news outlet around.

Her legal experience told her that only the information released by the authorities was making it out into the public domain. In reality, the crime was probably ten times
worse
.

It was touted as a savage and brutal killing, a young man dismembered in a stall located in the men’s room of a transit station. That was enough to frustrate the cops, she knew. DNA would be all over the place, no matter how rigorously or regularly it was cleaned. Bleach was bleach. What hadn’t been destroyed would be overshadowed by multiple donors. It would take a helluva lot of time to sort out the perp’s from everyone else’s.

The victim had been identified as a person with no known address, a euphemism for a transient or perhaps an ex-con. Who knew? It was still possible for people to vanish from the system, although much harder since Afterglow. However, the station was on the fringes of the Bogs, a part of town where things like criminal records were largely ignored and life tended toward the self-contained. The Bogs took care of its own, and everybody understood that and left it alone most of the time.

Pandora sighed, understanding why Cheney would be working long shifts and coming home grey with exhaustion. She filled the time by focusing on her own job, settling the aftermath of the fire and dealing with the routine of legal matters. She was back at work, avoiding any cases which might overlap with Cheney—there was that whole conflict-of-interest thing to consider—and waiting for him to climb into bed next to her whenever he finally called it quits for the day.

She asked no questions and made no demands. She was simply there, knowing instinctively that he needed her beside him as he slept.

A place she was content to occupy.

The evening solitude gave her a chance to reexamine her newly discovered self, the dryad part of her. No longer afraid of it, she found a fresh pleasure in being outside in Cheney’s back garden at sunset, opening her mind fully—for the first time—to what and who she really was.

Her wings emerged comfortably now, and she’d learned that she could absorb all that the trees were sending to her without putting down roots. Now that these skills were becoming more efficient, there was no need for such direct contact, no need to plunge into the earth to learn what she needed to know.

All she had to do was open that door in her mind—and listen.

It was liberating and wonderful, and it became one of the favorite parts of her day, right behind the one where strong arms encircled her and soft snores tickled the nape of her neck.

Yeah, she was falling more deeply into a relationship with Cheney Fisher every day. But oddly enough, she had absolutely no inclination to pull back. Was this love? She didn’t know. It wasn’t anything like she’d imagined, and given that her only experience had been years ago when she was still young and emotional, she had no guidelines or measuring system for this stuff.

She liked to think she was achieving a new kind of balance within her mind. The fierce drive to succeed as a lawyer was now tempered with the magic of her AG talent. Her job was still as important as ever…but she could step away from it, leave it behind her. Something she’d not been able to do until she’d come to terms with the rest of her abilities. It was oddly refreshing and in some ways made her better at what she did.

It took a little time for Pandora to allow herself the luxury of those stolen moments in the garden, but once she did—well, it was liberating.

She knew she’d have to find a new place to live sometime soon. There were so many things she should have been doing, like making lists, viewing apartments, organizing her own life. But she was reluctant to do any of them at this particular time. She felt she was giving something back to Cheney by being there for him, returning in a small way the favors and help she’d received.

She was a firm believer in reciprocity.

Which had a lot to do with her brazen actions late in the week when he tossed and turned beside her, deep asleep and yet still troubled.

A groan awoke her, the sheets were tangled around his limbs and his mouth was open, sounds of pain whooshing out with each breath.

Rising onto her elbow, she looked at him, noting the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the flicker of his eyes as they shifted behind closed lids.

He was dreaming. And having a doozy of a nightmare, too, by the looks of it.

They’d shared a dream before…perhaps they could do it again.

Not really sure how to do it, Pandora rested a hand on his heart and settled beside him, opening herself to his thoughts, much as she opened her mind to the trees in his garden.

She closed her eyes and relaxed, waiting to see if he would let her in or if there was some kind of link she could tap into. She drifted, floated in those idyllic but brief eons between sleep and wakefulness, keeping Cheney uppermost in her mind as her body eased.

And then she was there. With him.

And her breath stopped for long seconds as she saw what he was seeing.

Carnage. Utter and total carnage.

Blood was everywhere, pools and gobs of it. She’d seen enough crime-scene photos to recognize arterial splatter. She wasn’t expecting the lumps of still-raw flesh or the bile that rose in her throat when she realized the lumps had been a human being.

Nor was she expecting the frustrated agony radiating from Cheney as she moved behind him to view the scene. He was way past horrified. And losing himself in anger at whatever did this obscene thing. She touched him absently as her mind struggled to comprehend.

Cheney whipped around. “No. Not this.
You can’t see this
.”

She woke to find him shaking her.

“I will not share this with you. Nobody should be here who doesn’t have to be. Get out. Please. Now.”

Blinking, she stared at him, reaching for his arms and gripping them. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh Jesus.” He fell back onto the pillows beside her. “I never thought…never even considered…”

“Stop it.” Crossly, she poked him with a finger. “I’m an adult. A lawyer. I’ve seen photos, even been to a crime scene or two. Sure, it’s bad. Real bad. But stop protecting me. Whatever we’ve got going here lets us share on a unique level.” She lay back. “Stop trying to be a Neanderthal male and just suck it up, will you?”