The Demon King and I (4 page)

Arath was wrong about his mother. My father would never have kept someone from returning home through one of the portals. We were always happy to get the demons out of our world. Arath’s father had lied to him and I wanted to know why.

One thing my dad did well was keep excellent records of everything to do with this world and the others we guard against. Before I spoke with my mom, I wanted to check to see if he had logged anything about the incident.

Touching my tattoos together, I arrived in my office on the thirtieth floor of the building in downtown Austin where the Caruthers Corp. has its headquarters. It’s the place where I spend the majority of my time when I’m home.

Being the daughter of the boss had its privileges. The corner office was large and looked out over the city. The walls were burnished gold and the tables, desk, and chairs were stained mahogany. All of the furniture was upholstered with a beautiful bronze fabric my sister Alex had found in Paris. She, who was known for designing the world’s best party palaces, had put this space together for me and I loved it.

I turned the plasma TV on to CNN for some company, and flipped through the folders on the desk, looking for the papers my mom was supposed to sign and get back to me. They weren’t there. She’d probably left them in her office; I decided to check later.

I sat down at the computer and typed in my password. The initial search on the new demon king hadn’t given me much information, but I hadn’t been looking for his heritage. I was more than curious now. I’d never met anyone like him, especially from the demon world.

I found the brief summary Mira had printed out earlier. I clicked through to the next page and read about Arath’s father. Kildenren had been a fierce warrior and the chief of his clan. He’d died fighting in the Keepers War. Religion, something strange to associate with demons, was at the basis of many of their wars, much like here at home. The Keepers had tried to take over, but the other demon clans had banded together to keep their freedom.

Tapping my fingers on the mouse, I clicked to the next page. Kildenren’s mate, Juliet Morrison, was listed with two children, Arath and Throe.

I couldn’t believe what I read. It couldn’t be the same person. I put the cursor on her name. It was. I knew her as Aunt Juliet, who was human, and the last time I checked, she was very much alive.

CHAPTER 3

My hands shook a little with the news and I sat
back in my leather chair. How could she have left her children behind?

Aunt Juliet’s only faults, up until now, were that she was too kind and had terrible taste in men. That happened to be something we had in common. She wasn’t my real aunt, but she and my mother had been friends since long before I was born. When my dad died a few years ago, it was Juliet who helped put the family back together. A generous and loving person, she was not the sort of woman to abandon children.

The Morrisons were another family of Guardians, and for many years Juliet and her sisters had done the same thing the Caruthers did. All of the sisters had eventually retired to marry and raise children. Well, except for Juliet. She was the life of every party and refused to spend too much time with any one man. She’d also become a powerful mage. Not as strong as my mother, but she definitely had a way with magic.

I picked up the phone and dialed Mom’s office on the off chance she might still be there. No answer. I wanted to call Juliet, but what would I say—hey, why did you leave your demon babies behind?

I hated when I judged people before I had all the facts. If she had left her children behind, she’d had a reason. A good one. But I couldn’t just come out and ask her about it. I needed to talk to Mom.

She didn’t answer when I called, which was weird since she never turned off her phone. Maybe she was in the sauna or having dinner at the club. They wouldn’t allow phones in there. Honestly, she could be anywhere in the universe. As a powerful mage, her services were always in need. She was also good at keeping up the Caruthers ruse. Most people in our circle of friends thought she was the successful, polished businesswoman she appeared to be. She was that and so much more.

“Hey, sis, working hard or hardly working?” Bailey’s voice surprised me and I almost fell back in my chair.

“Jesus, Bailey! You scared the hell out of me.” I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed his reflection in the window.

“Ooooh, I scared the big bad demon slayer.” He licked his finger and painted an imaginary tick mark. “Chalk one up for Bailey Boy.”

I cleared my throat, my eyebrow twitching. We don’t talk about our other jobs in public. Ever.

“I know the rules, Gilly, but no one’s around.” He waved a long arm. “As usual you are the last one left. Have you seen Mom?”

“No. I don’t know where she is. I just tried to call her phone. What are you doing here so late?”

Bailey sat down in one of the chairs facing my desk. My brother is a good-looking guy. Oh, not by my standards, but twice he’s been voted the “Hottest Bachelor” in
In Scene
magazine. He has curly blond hair that always needs to be cut and he lives in jeans and retro T-shirts. Especially fond of any that sport shows from the Cartoon Network, he always looks like he’s just rolled out of the wrong side of bed.

To me, he’s the world’s biggest dork. Smart, but a dork just the same.

“I’ve been working on the new underwater camera for Claire. She needs it next week for the tiger shark shoot. I’ve got to work on the lens and focus options, but it’s close.”

I almost asked Bailey about Juliet but my computer beeped and I glanced at the screen. “Oh, crap.”

“What?” Bailey leaned forward.

“I forgot about the Windrige fund-raiser tonight. I’ve canceled on their last two parties. Argh! Technically, I’m supposed to be in São Paulo at the gallery, and flying home, so I’m not expected. Bothers me, though, that I totally forgot about it.”

Bailey leaned his elbows on my desk. “Mira said you and Emmy baby are on the outs.” Secrets didn’t last long in my family no matter how hard you begged someone not to tell. My brother didn’t think much of my former Latin lover. In fact, he seldom appreciated my taste in men. I used to think it was that brotherly thing, looking out for his big sister and all that, but I’m beginning to believe he just had really good instincts when it came to the jerks I dated.

“Don’t look so smug, poodle head.” I sneered. “I kind of liked him. Sort of. Well, since I’m already over him, evidently I didn’t care as much as I thought,” I confessed, and he watched with his genius eyes.

This was what we did. He listened, made fun, and we moved on.

“What time did it start?” Bailey stood and stretched.

“What?” I was lost in my diatribe and forgot what we’d been talking about.

“Gilly, for a smart girl . . . the fund-raiser?”

“Oh, nine. But I don’t want to go. Besides, it might look suspicious if I show up, after being in Brazil four hours ago.”

“It’s not even ten yet; the party will be going strong.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Today’s your lucky day, big sis. I’ve been trying to get in the same room with Katy Harrison for weeks. I saw her on the beach at Cannes, and she wears bikini bottoms like nobody else.”

It took me a minute to realize that he meant she’d been tanning topless.

“You’re such a perv, but thanks. Someone from the family should be there. Be careful with Katy—I have a meeting with her dad in the morning and I want to be able to look him in the eyes.” I pointed a finger at him. “Whatever you do, don’t get thrown into jail.”

My brother had a tendency to live in his own world, a place that had a different set of rules than the ones the rest of us followed. Part of it had to do with his extremely logical brain. Unfortunately, the police didn’t like it when he told them that they were wrong.

Bailey glanced down at his clothes. “I can be ready in thirty minutes. I’ve got to throw my tux in the steamer. I accidentally crammed it in a desk drawer.”

Bailey “accidentally” did stuff all the time. Once his mind began a project, he became totally focused. Ordinary, everyday things, like dry cleaning and showers, tended to be forgotten.

 
 
A half hour later we walked toward the parking
garage.

“Let me guess, you want me to drive you to the hotel and take your car to the house?” I took the keys he held out.

“Got it in one, Gilly. That way I can drink up my courage to talk to Katy, and when I fail miserably I won’t be able to drive my drunk self home.”

I laughed. “Just remember her eyes are above her chest. Women like it when you look them in the face.”

He laughed at that.

Bailey headed to his Mercedes SL600 Roadster. His was black. Mine was red. Dad had given them to us for Christmas three years ago. Bailey had rigged it so they both worked as hybrids.

I preferred my truck, but the Mercedes was easier to park, and I didn’t like listening to the lectures from Mira and Claire about how I was hurting the planet by using my fossil-fuel-chugging machine. So I only used the truck when I had to haul something.

The event was at the Driscoll, only a few blocks away. The valet opened the door, but I didn’t move. “Not staying, Ms. Caruthers?” He reached a hand to help me out.

“Not tonight, Darryl. You never saw me, okay?”

It took him a second, but he nodded his head and smiled. “Okay.”

“Make sure my brother gets a ride home or stays in our suite. He plans on drinking tonight.”

He laughed. “I’ll alert the staff to catch him before anything unfortunate happens.”

The last time Bailey was drunk at the Driscoll he tried to slide down the banister. It hadn’t been so difficult when he was a kid, but as a nonsober adult it didn’t go as well. He’d had thirteen delicate and well-placed stitches after that escapade. “His future children will thank you.”

I pulled out onto Sixth Street and considered grabbing some take-out Mexican, but I didn’t feel like stopping. It had been a really long day and I was ready to get home.

I called ahead to the house and Mrs. Pompson, the house chef, picked up the phone. “Yes, Ms. Gillian.”

“Hi, Mrs. Pompson, is there anything for dinner? What did you guys have tonight?” She oversaw a large staff that made certain everyone at the house was fed well. Since the complex was out in the middle of nowhere it didn’t make sense for employees to have to drive twenty minutes for meals. There was also a well-stocked break room with snacks and drinks on the lowest level.

“Tonight we have a choice of chicken enchiladas and tortilla soup, or meat loaf and mashed potatoes.”

They both sounded good.

“Excellent. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. I’ve been craving your enchiladas.”

“We’ll see you soon, miss. I added some habanero peppers to the sauce for you, just in case you made it home this evening.”

I smiled. I loved that woman. She’d been working for the family for as long as I could remember, and she always seemed to know what we wanted. She shared the kitchen with my mother, which was no easy task. My mother loved to cook, and she worked out her stress by creating new recipes. It was absolutely the only domestic thing about her.

Mom was the one who taught us to fight and use weapons, while other children learned hopscotch and jumped rope. She was a tough broad, but we loved her.

My dad was the softhearted nurturer. The one who made certain we developed the social skills needed to travel in the circles we did. Fae, demons, dragons, Nereids, and other otherworldly beings were drawn to the rich and powerful, and that’s where we often found the craftiest of them. Some had been in our world for centuries without detection; others tried to jump in more recently. It was our job to get rid of them, in whatever way possible.

Their crimes were often written off as serial killings or unexplained phenomena. People on Earth didn’t want to believe in monsters, and I couldn’t blame them.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t see the tail at first. It was only as I pulled onto the freeway that I noticed the black SUV speeding up on my bumper.

“Crap. Damn paparazzi.”

I couldn’t let them snap a photo, as I should have been headed home on a plane from Argentina. Since I was in my brother’s car there was a good chance they thought I was his latest chick du jour.

Stamping my foot down on the accelerator, I shifted gears. They were gaining on me, and it would be tough to lose them on the highway. I shifted and made a quick exit and U-turn under the freeway, leading them back toward the university. Winding my way through the back roads, I drove like a crazy woman on a mission. Ten minutes later I was free of the tail and jumped back on the highway.

My phone rang again.

“Ms. Caruthers, it’s Jake. We have jumpers. The first one is a mile ahead of your current location on the right side. It’s as if he is waiting for you.”

Crap.
“Got it. I’ll intercept. Thanks.” I checked the rear-view to make sure the tail was really gone. Photographing me killing a demon would make the front page. I couldn’t let that happen.

I turned onto the farm road leading to the house, and I pulled off on the shoulder. Popping the trunk, I went in search of weapons. Bailey had a Magnum in the trunk along with a bowie knife and some weird-looking machine. I had no idea what it did and had no time to figure it out.

I stuffed the knife in the back of my jeans and put the gun on the seat beside me.

As I turned the ignition, I was already planning how I could pin the demon between the eyes and split his brain open.

First it was the bread pudding. Now I had to postpone dinner. I have anger issues when I don’t eat on a regular basis. Dad used to say it had something to do with my metabolism and blood sugar. The longer I went without eating, the more ferocious and mean I became.

Poor guy had no idea who he’d messed with tonight.

CHAPTER 4

“What the hell are you doing here?” I stomped out
of the car. He was lucky I hadn’t run him over.

Arath stood dressed much the same way as before, only now he had on a black long-sleeved T-shirt instead of the leather vest.