Keeley Thomson (Book 4): Demon Trap (22 page)

Her sister opened the door before she could knock and stared at her for almost a minute before letting her in.

"Not that I can prove that you're you. You feel right, but that doesn't mean much at the moment." She closed the door behind her and gestured to the low coffee table in the cream and white colored living room. It was an impressive decorating job, with the only real color coming from the brown wood of several cabinets and a few paintings on the wall that were very similar to the ones that Keeley's family had on the walls at their place.

Her mother and her, she corrected.

There was a sudden flare of anger then, even as she took in the scene on the table. She suppressed it, but reminded herself that, if she could manage it, Xenses would die forever for killing Charles. He might not have been the perfect father, that was true. He'd been there for her, after a fashion though, and, in the tradition of their kind, that meant he'd been hers. Her person. It was the kind of insult that started wars.

Not that she was ready for that kind of thing yet. She'd have to get that way though, as fast as possible.

On the smooth wood there was a single piece of hemmed white silk, with a severed hand sitting in the middle. Next to it there were three different magical seeming contraptions, and two firearms with gold and black boxes of ammunition sitting next to each.

Darla saw where she was looking and just pointed casually at them, not bothering with instructions. After all, Keeley knew how to use guns, at least in theory. All the information was in her mind thousands of times over. She could have built them herself, really, with a little time and equipment. She'd need to review a bit, and practice if she wanted to be good, but that wasn't part of the deal she had with her sister.

"A forty-five revolver, one ounce lead bullets, specially packed fifty-four grain rounds. Not enough to stop one of us for long, but it will knock a two hundred pound man down, about half the time. Next to it is an AK-47. Standard ammunition. It was what I had to spare." She waited for Keeley to nod or something, but actually looked surprised when she set them in place, using the pocket of space around her. The handgun going to her right, at about hip height. She oriented it to the front and took the safety off, so it would be ready to fire instantly. The rifle was tucked to the opposite side, pointed so that it would be easy to grab and fire toward the left, slightly.

Her sister didn't comment on it though, or even nod.

"These other things are slightly more powerful. The crystal arrangement is basically a bomb. Add power and throw." She pointed at the device. It was a pretty arrangement of quartz and what seemed to be magnets. Powerful ones. The whole thing was about the size of both her hands put together. It was tucked away to the right as well, but at about shin level, so that it wouldn't try to attract her firearms. The field on it was clear to her, being visible after all. The warping of space was mild, but she got the idea. When she added an electrical current the whole thing would flex, the crystals being piezoelectric. That would set the whole thing into a feedback loop and, after a bit, no more than a few seconds, it would take out a whole lot of space time in a given area.

It was a lot more powerful than the grenade that had been used against her. If she was too close when it went off, she'd just die, being torn apart instantly.

Her sister kept going, smiling a little.

"Stun pistol, in case you need to take someone down without killing them, and of course, your Demon Trap. I fixed it up a bit. It has a larger containment area and a few tricks that will help keep one of us inside for a while. Just to give you an idea, it would probably keep me busy for about an hour and you for, oh, a few months." It was said in a teasing fashion, but the part left unsaid was the real joke.

It would keep Darla busy for an hour, if she hadn't been the one to rework it. If Keeley tried to use it on her sister it would last about as long as it took for Keeley to activate the thing. That part, when she examined the device, was the big flaw. It had to be activated with a bit of power, but if you were close enough to do that, it would be really difficult not to be trapped in it yourself. As weapons went it kind of sucked, but she didn't complain. It wasn't like hiding bodies and a little cleaning was really worth even what she'd been given already.

"This is better. The initial work was... a bit spotty." Keeley examined it, but didn't know exactly what had been changed about it really. Some of the crystals were in different places, there were some new sigils along the side, that sang with power, but what they all did... She didn't have a clue yet.

Her older sister nodded at it and then looked at her frankly. It meant something, but Keeley couldn't tell exactly what yet.

"I know. So much so that I almost wonder if it was a real trap at all? It was almost as if whoever set it for you
expected
you to defeat it. I can think of a dozen reasons for that, but none of them are very good. Most likely it would be to push you toward a specific conclusion but if that was the case, whoever did it needs to reexamine the information on you. You have your issues, but jumping to conclusions isn't one of them. Really, you're very mature that way."

Keeley hid the other weapons away where she could get to them, and only when she'd finished did her sister let a single hand come out, her fingers tracing the outline of the hidden space that surrounded Keeley.

"Not bad. Especially since you're mainly doing it so you won't have to carry a bag with you all over the place." She grinned and let her hand pat Keeley on the shoulder, but didn't try to take any information from her with the move. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Not easily. Keeley was blocking that pretty solidly anymore. All the time.

"Except that it won't work, and I'll still be a slave to the handbag. I can't pull cash from the air over and over again without creeping people out. I'll live." Provided of course, that she did. It was a bit less certain than she liked, with all these attacks coming like they were.

Darla surprised her then, by asking about something she wouldn't have thought her sister would even really know about.

"What do you have planned for Bryce Miller? He confessed already, but leaving him alive means that he'll have a chance to get out and go for Gladys again. I understand that she's your friend, but she lives in my territory, so I have a stake in protecting her from such things."

Keeley shook her head. It was an interesting topic, since the older woman was a church lady and Darla, by definition, was a bit of a hater when it came to religion. She only went because Keeley had suggested they use it for making contacts, and it was a good plan. As her mentor it was the older Demons job to support the baby when she did something right. At least the good ones did that.

"He's enslaved, so no, he'll never do that. I'm going to have him kill himself though. I was going to wait until after the New Year, but I could do it now. I just didn't want to ruin the holiday any more for her than it already was."

"Can you? The man planned to have his own grandmother raped and murdered. That pretty much spoils the whole thing I think. It might be better if he did it tonight, so that she can condense the trauma." There was a shrug, but it said a lot more than it would with most people. It wasn't that her sister didn't know really, but that she wouldn't give her opinion, since it was Keeley's game that was being played.

Inside the Technician's territory however, but no thought had been given to repaying her for having saved Gladys or even taking Bryce. If Darla had a problem there, Keeley would deal with it, but so far it didn't seem to be an issue.

"What if I made it look like a brain tumor? Then the whole thing might be-" She stopped, working out how to do that. It would take some use of power on her part, to do it from a distance, but he could die from it that night and it would leave Gladys with the ability to pretend her grandson wasn't evil, just sick. It wasn't the truth, but sometimes that was overrated anyway.

That got a sly smile from the girl in front of her at least.

"Good. That will save some problems. Be careful going home." The words weren't overly friendly, but they were just a warning, not a threat. There was something in them though, a little bit of information that sounded off. What it was meant to tell her, Keeley wasn't aware of yet.

That her sister was trying to pass a message was clear though. It was something she wasn't allowed to just say though, or clearly she
would
have. She knew something about the attacks, that was part of it.

If it had been Xenses, then it wouldn't have been a simple warning, they would have used some kind of protection to prevent being heard, and simply talked the issue out. That meant it was something, or at least someone, else. Who that would be though, Keeley couldn't tell. She was nearly positive it wouldn't be Darla though. Not directly. That just left an entire universe of indirect possibilities, didn't it?

"I'll do my best." Keeley managed not to sound like a scared child, though after she walked out the door, she did peek into the inroads, just to make sure no one was following her from there. If they were, whoever it was had skills, because she couldn't sense anyone at all.

The drive was short at least, even if she did watch every shadow as if it were a monster getting ready to strike. Nothing happened of course, but for the time being she was going to have to be careful all the time. That meant, the second she got into the house, she searched it in every way she could manage. Sherry was in the kitchen, along with Clara the Hsreth and her son, Glen. They were great people to have around. Both very hard workers, and personally pleasant, the vast majority of the time.

"Hi everyone." She didn't ask what was going on, since it was all about baking at the moment. There were very few bits of counter space left uncovered.

Her mother waved a bit, a single hand raising in greeting that was put back to stirring a bowl of something that was soft yellow and looked to be a cake batter.

"Hi, hon. We're using the space here, since we've had a rush of last minute clients. It looks like I won't be sleeping much for the next few days. You can help, if you want." She smiled about the idea, even as Glen looked away and winced.

It wasn't that he didn't like her, she knew, even if she was his slave master. No, it was that he didn't think her skills were up to the task yet. It was honest enough really, though she was getting better.

"Sure. I'll work on decorations or something mindless but useful? That way Glen and Clara won't have to try and secretly remake everything I touch." She winked at the man, who had curly dark hair and looked about old enough to be Clara's husband, or given how closely they resembled each other, her brother. That's what they normally claimed in public even.

The man smiled at least.

"Thank god. We really can't afford that right now." The words just popped out in a rush and he went pale afterwards, so did Clara, as far as that went. It could have been considered rude after all, and being rude to even a nice Greater Demon might mean death.

"I know, I know. Well, we can arrange for more lessons soon, after the holidays? Right now I have to kill someone, but that won't take too long. Then I can get back here and see where I can be useful?"

The words got her mother to stop stirring again, until the others stared at her. She restarted almost instantly, but didn't sound all that pleased with her daughter.

"You mean that as a metaphor right? Killing someone figuratively I mean? I guess that isn't really a metaphor, but you know what I mean. You aren't going to actually end someone's life, are you?" There was enough of a question to it that, good girl or not, it was clear that Sherry really didn't know the answer.

"No, I'm really going to murder someone. It will look like natural causes though. Gladys Miller's grandson. You know about that." They all nodded, since, like normal people, they all talked about evil things like that when she wasn't around. "He isn't going to survive the night. Right now he's a slave of mine, and will be until he dies. That should be in about an hour."

The others looked at what they were doing, but Sherry froze, face stern.

"I don't like you killing people. I didn't raise you that way."

It was true. Then, she didn't raise her to let would be murderers get away with it either. Glen cleared his throat softly, to interrupt.

"It's a good thing though. Sometimes people are so bad that there's no way to save them. This man threatened the... friend of a Greater Demon. That's a death sentence at the best of times. In this case, I have to agree. Someone has to stand for the woman. If the Mistress of Souls didn't do it, then it would be the Technician, or perhaps one of us." He didn't explain it very well, Keeley didn't think, but it was enough.

Sherry went back to her baking.

"Well, try not to make a habit of it." She clearly didn't approve, but that was fine. Keeley really didn't either. It was what had to happen, but only because she was too lazy to actually fix the man.

The work on it didn't take long at all. It was hard to build the tumor at first, since she had to use the link between them to cause it to grow and force the man to do it as he lay on his bunk in lockup. He was alone at least, so no one heard him as he started moaning.

Except her of course.

She knew everything he was thinking and felt the pain she was causing as she worked. It was that feedback that told her it was being done correctly. The hard part though wasn't that. No, it was not growing a similar tumor in her own head at the same time. She poured magic into the whole thing, so it didn't take long for the man to die. About that hour she'd mentioned. She knew when it happened, because the link between them broke suddenly. That only happened when a slave died.

Keeley didn't bother with guilt over it this time, and didn't have to lock that feeling down even. It just never came. That either meant it was the right thing to do, or, more likely, that she was angry enough on some deep level to feel happy about it all. Either way worked for her, at the moment.