Last Breath (16 page)

And I couldn’t ignore the fact that there was a higher demon running around the tri-state area—one I had failed to banish. As humiliating as it was, I needed to call in a Knight. Dad was a Librarian Knight, but Mom and my two siblings were Guardians. Roman was in Leesburg, Mom even farther away in Middleburg, but I knew Athena was at a symposium up in Philly this week.

My sister and I were the closest in age, but she was still seven years my senior. I’d been my parents’ midlife baby, the pesky kid following my teenage brother and sister around. We were tight, but with gaps of seven and ten years, we weren’t
that
tight. Still, Athena seemed thrilled when I called, telling me about her seminar on cursed objects and asking about the weekend’s LARP. When the small talk had run on for a respectable length of time, I reluctantly turned to conversation to my problem. Reluctant because I hated to admit my failure, and in all honesty the seminar on cursed objects
did
sound pretty cool.

“Innyhal? Are you sure it was him? A high level demon loose in DC? Holy gauntlets, Aria, you get
all
the luck.”

I was momentarily stunned into silence that Athena would consider being nearly killed by a demon luck. How bored were Guardians these days when human sacrifices, reaper angels, and rogue demons were experiences to be envied?

“Yeah, it was Innyhal. The sigil was unmistakable even if the four-eyed, lion-headed form wasn’t. I really need your help, though. I tried to banish him and for some reason it didn’t work.”

Some reason. I wasn’t about to admit to my sister that I’d probably gotten myself demon-marked. It was bad enough that I had to swallow my pride and tell her I failed to banish a demon. Me. A Templar. Even though I wasn’t a Knight, I was still empowered as part of our holy mission to send Satan’s minions back to hell. Gah, it was so humiliating.

There was a moment of silence from Athena—a poignant moment. I felt like I’d just admitted to peeing my bed at night or something.

“I’ll be right down. Let me wrap up a breakfast meeting with Elder Eustache and I’ll meet you at your apartment.”

Typical. She hadn’t asked if I had to work at my job, because for all the other Templars this
was
their job—their only job. Although, to be fair, a demon loose in the city did trump my responsibilities to corporate America. “What time? I’m helping a civilian detective on the death-magic sacrifice and we had plans this morning. I can switch them if I need to.”

Civilian. It made me want to laugh that as a Templar the police were considered civilians.

“Make it noon? You know how Elder Eustache talks and I haven’t even packed yet. It’s not an emergency, is it? Innyhal is all about death, warfare, and slaughter but I’ve read that he likes to plan a bit more than the usual Mars demons.”

True. “Outside of the two mages who summoned him, I haven’t heard of any other deaths.” Plus most demons preferred to kill at night, when the lack of light added to the terror of their murders.

“Noon, then. Oh, and I’ve got a package from Gran for you. I was going to swing by on my way home and drop if off anyway.”

I read between the lines, or in this case, words. The package was Athena’s excuse for a visit. I smiled at the thought that she’d wanted to visit me—the only one of my family to do so since I left six months ago. Not that it was completely their fault. I hadn’t left on the best of terms, and I’m sure they all wanted to give me my space so I could get through my little tantrum then come home and take my Oath of Knighthood.

Athena
wanted
to visit. She’d asked about the LARP, seemed genuinely interested in my life here—excited even. Could this be a sign that my family might eventually accept my choices? Lord, I hoped so.

I was exhausted, but I had a few more calls to make. I made quick work of briefing Janice, telling her the link between the DC mages with their hit list, and the Baltimore killings.

“I want to run this tomorrow morning,” she warned.

I winced. Would the story scare off the mages we were trying to catch? Plus I wasn’t sure leaking the story about the sacrifice would do much beyond panicking the public. “The victims might not even have known the mages responsible for this. I know you think there’s a motive, a method for selection, but I’m not completely convinced.”

“I’m running it, Aria,” she announced. From the tone of her voice I knew she wouldn’t be swayed. “People need to know. Maybe someone has seen something. Maybe one of their co-mages feels guilty and will come forward.”

I thought of Shade. He hadn’t necessarily felt guilty. As distasteful as he found the sacrifices, he’d believed them to be a necessary evil. Running this story was only going to make them close ranks.

Shit. Tremelay was going to kill me. “Don’t implicate Ronald Stull or mention him yet,” I warned. “I’ve got no proof beyond a slip of paper in his pocket with an address, his name on a hit list, and the word of a mage who wouldn’t even face me in person that he’s involved. Leave this all vague and anonymous so we have time to bring these people in.”

The line was silent for a few moments. “Okay. I’ll leave out Ronald Stull as well as the DC demon killings, and just run this as a death-magic, human sacrifice. I can add in the others once we figure out how they fit together.”

It was the best I could hope for. I promised to keep Janice in the loop, and received the same assurances from her. Then I hung up and dialed another number.

It was yet another attempt on my part to reach Raven. I’d called her from Tremelay’s car on the way back from DC. I’d called her while standing in the checkout line at the Walmart. I’d called her while on my knees smearing gray stuff all over my floor. I couldn’t stop caring about someone—or worrying about them—just because they’d had to make a choice between me and their magical organization. She’d chosen Haul Du, but I knew deep down inside that decision bothered her just as much as it bothered me. Two Haul Du mages had died last night. Maybe she was the one who needed to get out of town and hide in Virginia for a week or two.

This time she picked up the phone. “Aria, stop calling me. I’ve got hundreds of problems I’m dealing with right now. Are you in Virginia with your family?”

“No, I’m in Baltimore.” Before she could scold me, I rushed right into the topic at hand. “Tempest and Oak are dead. They were summoning a high demon named Innyhal in order to kill a list of twenty-five Baltimore area mages. Innyhal got out, killed them, and is on the loose.”

I heard her sharp intake of breath. “Oak and Tempest are dead?”

“Yeah. And now there’s a demon running around DC. What the heck is going on, Raven?”

“A feud between Haul Du and the Baltimore group. I can’t tell you the details, but it’s gotten ugly and people have died.”

“And what started this feud? Because it needs to stop before any more innocent people get killed.”

Raven made an impatient sound. “That’s what some of us are trying to do. Your interference won’t help, Aria. And you’re liable to get yourself killed in the crossfire. Just go visit your parents and let us handle it.”

That stung. I might not be an adept in the magical community, but I did have my skills. And honestly, these mages hadn’t been doing a great job at handling the situation so far. “Oh, so more get killed like Tempest and Oak? More Baltimore mages and junkies get their souls ripped out by an angel? More people are sacrificed in a death magic ritual used to contain some really scary thing that, frankly, I’m a little afraid to conjecture on? Raven, you guys are in over your heads.”

I felt her frustration through the phone. “Maybe we are, but this is an internal matter. I’m sorry it—wait. Did you say an
angel
was ripping the souls out of people?”

Yeah, I’d had a hard time believing it, too. “Araziel. He killed one of the mages that was on Tempest and Oak’s hit list, and two junkies on the barrier where the sacrifice took place. So now there’s a demon running around loose, an angel equally loose, Baltimore mages killing people, and Haul Du members summoning higher level demons to kill others. And summoning them badly. Did I mention they got themselves killed?”

“I gotta go.” Raven sounded distracted, like she hadn’t heard half of my rant. “I’ll call you later.”

“Raven, you need to tell me—” Too late. She’d hung up and I got the feeling she wouldn’t answer if I called again.

Oh well. I’d done my duty—more than my duty. I’d called to give her the heads-up. I’d told her what was going on. She could go to Dark Iron, the head of Haul Du with it all. I didn’t care. He’d be in a better position to protect them from a loose demon than a marked, not-a-Knight Templar.

After my call with Raven I tip-toed around the edge of my living room so as to not step in the drying floor leveler, and crashed on my bed for a much needed nap. It seemed my head had barely touched the pillow before there was a knock on my door.

“I’ll be right there!” It took me a while to negotiate my way around the floor leveler, then some gymnastics to figure out how to open the door without planting my foot in it. It probably wouldn’t have mattered right at the edge, but I wanted as large a space to work with as I could manage.

“What the hell?” Tremelay stared at the floor, then at me perched against the wall like a tight-rope walker. “Is that cement? What are you doing?”

“I can’t properly delineate a circle on plywood with huge gaps between the sheets, and there are times when I need to do magic. It’s floor leveler.”

The detective took a step inside, gingerly making his way around the edge to the kitchen. “You’re never getting your security deposit back. You know that, right?”

My hopes for ever seeing my security deposit had long vanished. “Any more deaths happen while I was catching some Z’s?”

“Not that we’ve discovered. I did find out that Bethany Scarborough knew one of last night’s deceased. It seems she’d worked on a burglary claim Benton Leigh filed last winter.”

It was a weird coincidence, but I still filed it away in my noggin. It was a connection, the only one we had. Could Oak and Tempest have been
involved
in the death magic ritual that killed Bethany? It didn’t seem their sort of thing, but I’d been wrong about people before, and Shade had mentioned a stranger who was involved. Perhaps there had been a double cross of sorts going on. Raven did say it was an internal matter. Maybe there was more to this feud than just two rival magical groups who employed different methods in their practice.

Although if Oak had been involved with the Baltimore mages, why would he have chosen an insurance adjuster as his victim? Unless he had a reason to be pissed at her and was killing two birds with one stone.

“Any details on the claim? Did Benton Leigh receive money from the insurance policy?”

Tremelay consulted his notepad. It had been rapidly filling up in the last few days. “Yeah. Says the claim paid out. Television, some DVDs, artwork and jewelry. Not a huge amount was taken. Seems like the normal steal-what-you-can-pawn robbery.”

Okay, so no grudge against the insurance adjuster, then. I yanked my hair back into a ponytail, rubbing at the sheet marks that I was sure were on my face. Then I followed the detective out, grabbing my purse and my sword before locking the door behind me—both with the deadbolt and with a magical hex. It wouldn’t do to have the landlord waltz in unannounced and see my unauthorized modifications.

Tremelay sighed, staring pointedly at my sword. “Front seat out of view, and please keep it sheathed unless a lion-headed monster attacks.”

I hid a grin. “Gotcha.”

“One more thing,” he said after we’d both climbed in and were on our way. “The two dead junkie guys? Cause of death was obviously due to the removal of organs essential for life, but both had enough heroin in their systems to kill them.”

I shook my head, thinking what a tragedy it was that most addicts were on a short road to overdose.

“It’s still murder,” he added.

“Well, then let’s arrest this angel and throw the book at him.” It wasn’t nice of me to rub in the fact that he would probably never be able to see the killer brought to justice, but I was more than a bit on edge after my close call with the demon last night.

“I’m trying to figure out how I can arrest the person who summoned the angel,” he snapped back. “The angel is a weapon, just like a gun.”

No, not exactly. “Let’s concentrate on the death magic for now and decide how to handle the killing by angel and killing by demon later.”

S
ETTING SUN WAS
the type of shop you went to if you wanted scented candles, ornamental potpourri holders, or decorative primitive figurines. Farther back in the store you’d find essential oils, dried herbs and tea blends, and a variety of generic protection and divination materials. Through the back curtain, past the meditation/yoga space was a door. It looked like your standard emergency exit door with a push bar and shiny gray paint. The difference was what you would see when you went through. And the fact that you could push on that bar all day but the door wouldn’t open without a key.

Staff had the key, and it wasn’t on a keychain. Plus they wouldn’t open that door for just anybody. There were reasons spells beyond the simplest of charms required difficult-to-get materials and very specific incantations. The world would be a frightening place if everyone could throw curses around or summon demons with a few days practice and a handful of grass from their backyard.

Of course, the world was a frightening place when skilled mages were bold enough to sacrifice a woman and use her body and soul for dark magic. Or when mages summoned demons and angels into this world without proper skill and know-how. And yes, I was including myself in that category, given my botched summoning last week.

The guy behind the counter smelled of patchouli and had a shock of fire-engine red hair that stood out to each side of his head from a center part. The woman he was ringing up made a joke about the weather, and he laughed. It was a squeaky, high-pitched laugh that reminded me of a Muppet.

Once the customer left, Elmo approached us smiling. “What can I help the two of you with?” Before either of us could reply, the smile left his face. “Wait. I know you. You’re that Templar girl.”