Sins of the Demon (16 page)

“How long have you had this office?” His gaze swept the miniscule area.

I had to finish chewing and swallowing donut before I could reply. “Almost a year. I don’t mind how small it is since I don’t have to share.”

“Sure, but don’t you believe in decorating?”

I made a show of looking around. “It is decorated! See, I have a poster.” I was quite proud of my fake “Magic Eye” poster. I’d lost count of the number of people who struggled to see a 3-D image in it that didn’t exist.

He chuckled but didn’t rise to the bait of the poster. “I stand corrected. You should consider opening your own interior design business.”

“Nah. I like being a cop. I get to drive fast and tell people how stupid they are.” I licked icing off my fingers and grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, shifting to a smile that he probably thought was disarming. “I was wondering if you could help me out with something?”

I gave him a properly inquisitive look, though the slight curl of disappointment in my belly already had a good idea of what he was about to ask. Some sort of trouble with his neighbor maybe, or a ticket that he was hoping I could help him take care of.

He tugged a folded piece of paper from his pocket. A ticket. I hated that I’d been right. No real interest in me after all. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Back in college he’d always seemed more interested in having either a hot girlfriend he could show off or a super smart one he could use for free tutoring. I hadn’t really fallen into either category, which was one of the reasons I’d been astounded that he’d asked me out in the first place.

Unfolding the ticket, his expression morphed into “sheepish.” I wasn’t buying it. He probably practiced these expressions in the mirror in order to get what he wanted. He was smooth.

But I’d been dealing with demons for the past ten years.

I didn’t say anything as he set it on the desk. Didn’t even look at it. Just continued to gaze at him with the same inquisitive, slightly puzzled expression. Two could play this game.

He broke first, tapping the ticket with a finger and clearing his throat. “There’s this road near my parents’ house with a hill, and I didn’t realize how fast I was going. He got me for sixty in a forty-five.”

“Okay,” I said as guilelessly as possible. “You need to know where to go to pay it? Or are you going to contest it in court?”

He leaned back, rueful smile still in place. “It’s a pretty hefty fine,” he said. “I was wondering if you knew any way I could get it reduced?”

“You want me to see if I can fix it.” I didn’t make it a question. “You want to see if you can spend a few dollars for donuts and coffee to see if you can save over a hundred.” If I was more of a bitch I’d throw the coffee right back at him.

Now he winced. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I just wanted to see if it could be changed to seatbelt or—” He let out a choked cry and staggered to his feet, staring down in shock at the coffee covering his front.

I stared in shock as well, then yanked my eyes to my right hand—which was holding the empty coffee cup. I barely even remembered throwing the coffee at him, but I knew I had. I’d thought about it, then done it. No hesitation.

“Oh my god, Roman. I…I…” I dropped the empty cup on my desk and yanked open my top drawer to grab
out some tired napkins from a long ago fast food meal. I thrust them toward him, and he eyed them almost uncertainly before taking them and making a futile attempt to blot up the coffee.

“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then” he said, mouth twisting in a grimace.

“Shit, Roman, I swear I—”

“Everything cool here?”

I jerked my head around to see Cory, my sergeant, standing in the doorway of the office, frowning beneath his mustache, brown eyes taking in the details.

I opened my mouth but suddenly had no idea what to say.
I threw my coffee on him because he asked me how to get a ticket reduced.
So fucking what? That kind of stuff happened all the time.

“I’m a klutz,” Roman spoke up while I was still floundering. He turned the wry smile onto Sarge as he wiped his hands on the soggy napkins. “I was trying to give Kara her coffee, and we bumped hands.” He laughed, an easy sound. “I was the loser.”

Damn, but he was good. I’d have totally believed him if I hadn’t actually been here when it happened and done the actual spilling. Throwing, rather.

Sarge’s face cleared, and he gave a brisk nod. “Gotcha. There’s a restroom down the hall if you need to clean up.” He shifted his attention to me. “I’ll see if I can get a trustee in here to mop.”

I just gave him a nod. I wasn’t sure if it was safe for me to speak yet.

Roman simply gave a self-effacing chuckle. “I think I got the worst of it. I’m going to have to head home to change anyway.” He shot me a perfect imitation of an
apologetic look. Or maybe he really was apologetic? “I’m really sorry about getting coffee everywhere, Kara.”

I gulped. “Um. ’S okay,” I managed. Why the
fuck
had I thrown my coffee at him?

He caught my eye, and for the first time I saw what I thought might be true emotion—a confusing split-second flash of regret, anger, affection, and relief. Then he was out the door while I stood with my hands clenched to keep them from shaking.

Sarge watched him go, and as soon as the outer door closed he turned to me, eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

I shook my head as if that could get my thoughts back in order. “I threw my coffee at him.”

He made a
hmmf
ing sound. “No shit. I’m not any sort of blood-spatter analyst, but—” His gaze raked the coffee on the wall. “—even I can tell that was more than a ‘bump’ of hands. Now tell me whether I need to go after him and defend the virtue of one of my sisters in blue.”

A snort of laughter escaped me at the thought of anyone defending what little virtue I might still have. I unclenched my hands, sighed. “He didn’t do anything like that. All he did was ask if I could get a ticket reduced.” I grimaced and rubbed at my eyes. “I have no idea why that set me off.”

He pursed his lips. “You cool now?”

I nodded vigorously. “Like ice.” Spazzing out on the inside, but I could fake cool.

Maybe I couldn’t, because Sarge simply snorted and turned away. “I’ll go get that trustee.”

I wanted to sink into my chair and wallow in a mild freakout, but I couldn’t afford that sort of luxury right now. I needed to go see my aunt.

I waited long enough for the trustee to wipe down the wall and mop up the worst of the coffee, then I shooed him out, locked my door and headed down the hall to my sergeant’s office.

“By the way,” I said as I stood in his doorway, “both the vics from yesterday had mega-strokes.”

He lifted his head and leveled a frown at me. “Does Doc have a reason why yet?”

I shook my head. “I need to go check out a few things, if that’s okay.”

“Do what you need to do,” he said, then dropped his attention back to the paperwork on his desk. I masked a grin as I left. Cory knew that a number of my cases had some supernatural aspects, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Or openly acknowledge it. Or anything else that gave him the screaming willies. Poor guy. He tried, though. I had to give him that.

I stepped out of the back door and then let out a shocked cry as someone slammed me up against the outside wall. Or rather, I would have let out a shocked cry if I had any air left in my lungs.

Eilahn glared at me as she pinned me against the wall with her forearm. With her other she fished the cuff out of my coat pocket and held it up in front of me.

“Don’t forget,” she said in a mild tone that belied the fury in her narrowed eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” I managed to rasp. “Sorry… ?” I offered her as groveling a smile as I could manage.

She
hmmf
ed and released me but only to grab my wrist and snap the cuff around it. “Don’t forget,” she repeated.

I took a shuddering breath as the faint queasiness returned. “I won’t. I’m really sorry.”

Her expression softened, and she laid a hand on my shoulder. “I am not wroth with you. But this is a habit that you must form.”

“I will.” I took a deep breath in a futile attempt to settle my stomach. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

She smiled. “It is my pleasure.” And with that she turned and walked off. I watched her until she turned the corner, then I continued on to my car. If I’d ever had any doubts about her ability to be at my side in a split second, they were gone now. Not that I’d ever had any, to be honest.

My demon bodyguard kicked ass. Unfortunately, every now and then that ass was mine.

I gave the door of Tessa’s house a cursory knock, then entered, a split second ahead of her shout of “Kitchen!” At least that much was normal—or as normal as anything to do with my aunt could be. I paused, slipped the cuff off, and stuffed it into my bag before shedding my coat. My aunt’s pristine white, century-old house was warded to the teeth; I had no fear of being attacked or summoned while in here. Situated in a historical district on the lakefront, Tessa kept her house in exquisite condition, with carefully maintained landscaping, eggshell-blue gingerbread molding along the porch, and a set of white rockers that, unlike mine, had actually been taken out of the boxes they came in and assembled. The inside of her house was just as lovely—brilliant hardwood floors, crown molding, and flowered wallpaper in a subtle pattern of rose and gold. Not that she ever let anyone inside to see it whom she didn’t trust completely. Even the “Welcome” sign on the door was a standing joke, at least in my opinion. The aversions were such that only someone who was welcome—or seriously determined—would ever get close enough to the house to see it.

Continuing on down the hallway, I entered the kitchen to see Tessa and Carl sitting at the table playing some sort of card game. Staying true to her incredibly eclectic and weird sense of style, she had on a thigh-length black sweater dress embroidered in gold spider webs, with gold lamé leggings underneath that and knee-high boots—with what had to be five-inch heels. Her wild, kinky blond hair was pulled back from her face by a white scarf. As usual, it totally worked on her. It helped that she was a tiny little thing without a spare ounce of fat on her body.

Tessa gave me a cheery smile, then returned her attention to the richly colored cards displayed in front of her and in her hand. “There’s hot water in the kettle if you want tea,” she informed me.

“I’m good, thanks,” I said, pulling myself onto a stool at the counter. “Are those tarot cards?”

Tessa let out a bright peal of laughter. “Oh, heavens, no. Nothing that silly. We’re playing ‘Magic, The Gathering.’ ”

After umpteen years of living with my aunt, somehow she still managed to confuse and surprise me. “Um. Okay. That’s like ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ or something, right?”

She shook her head, then shrugged. “Not quite the same thing. This is a complex trading card game simulating battles between fantasy armies, complete with dragons, angels, elves, goblins, and magic.”

“Ah. Of course.” Through sheer will and love of my aunt I somehow managed to keep from rolling my eyes.

“Besides,” she continued, “
Thursday
nights are our D&D games. Carl and I are just passing a little time.”
She cast a fond look at the man across the table from her. In response he reached out and touched the back of her hand. It was a tiny gesture, made with barely a change in his expression, but somehow it conveyed so much tenderness that my throat briefly closed from the utterly simple beauty of it.

“Would you like to join us?” Tessa asked me, but there was enough of a twinkle in her eye that I knew she wasn’t serious. Not that she wanted to exclude me or anything of the sort, but she was all too aware that I was far from the type to play role playing games or indulge in any other sort of geekiness. I had enough of the real thing in my life, thank you very much.

“Gee, maybe next time,” I replied, and this time I
did
roll my eyes. “Do you mind if I take a stroll through your library instead?”

“Not at all,” she replied without the slightest hitch or hesitation. I was watching for anything like that and was almost surprised at the ease of her agreement. “Does this have something to do with a case?”

“Possibly,” I said, thinking of the presence of the
graa
. “I went out on a scene yesterday… .” Now I was the one to hesitate. We didn’t talk much about the Shit Years—which was how I thought of that time between the death of my father and my entry into the world of demon summoning. My relationship with my aunt had consisted mostly of screaming matches and sullen resentment—on both sides—and once we finally managed to find common ground we were both glad to put that time behind us. I had less problem talking about my wayward past with people like Jill and Carl, probably because they weren’t involved.

Carl set his cards down and stood. “I’m going to enjoy the backyard for a little while,” he remarked to no one in particular, then silently quit the room.

I could totally see why my aunt adored him. I did too at that moment. Taking a steadying breath, I asked, “Do you remember Tammy North?”

“I do,” Tessa said, slight frown puckering her forehead. “You and she used to hang out.”

“If by ‘hang out’ you mean ‘do drugs,’ ” I corrected, grimacing.

She gave a soft sigh. “Yes, that too.

“Found out today that she died a while back.” I paused. “Overdose.”

Her eyes shadowed. “You’re not surprised,” Tessa stated.

“I feel like I should have…I dunno, gone back for her somehow.” Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “I know it probably wouldn’t have done any good, but…” I trailed off, not sure what I wanted to say. “I was lucky.” I didn’t have to elaborate, but I did anyway. “You had my back.”

A smile whispered across her face. “Still do, sweets.” Her eyes grazed across the arcane tattoo on the inside of my left forearm for a hundredth of a heartbeat, then returned to mine. I knew that my aunt could see the Mark on my arm. Even through the fabric of my long-sleeved shirt, she could surely sense it. I also knew she was fully aware of what it meant—that I was sworn to Lord Rhyzkahl. I’d expected some sort of argument or confrontation about it, but it had never materialized. Yet in that ever-so-brief flick of her eyes, we’d had the discussion
about the mark and what it meant. She wouldn’t stop worrying, but I knew she supported me, no matter what.