Sins of the Demon

“Nope,” I said, “but if by some chance I get stopped, I don’t want to get a ticket for not having my demon properly secured.”

Part of my text to Jill had been to ask her to bring her personal car instead of her crime scene van. Since I didn’t have an overly large demon to tote around, I figured it was better if we went with something a little less obvious. In theory we could have used my departmental vehicle, but since I was on administrative leave, I didn’t want to be seen driving it around too much, just in case someone remembered that, technically, I should have been asked to turn my keys in for the duration of my leave. And I didn’t currently have a personal vehicle. About a year and a half ago, the engine of the ancient Honda Civic I’d been driving since college had finally gone into a spectacular meltdown after two hundred and forty thousand miles. Buying another car—even a crummy used one—had been beyond my budget and relegated into the category of “things I really should do one of these days.”

Luckily Jill had a nearly new Nissan X-Terra. It took a few minutes to figure out how to belt the demon into the booster seat, and then we were on our way.

Jill glanced over at me after we were both in the car, and gave me a wink. “Look at us being all domestic and mom-like and shit.”

I let out a snort of laughter. “Take a picture. This is the closest I’m likely to get.”

The drive into town was uneventful, though I discovered that Votevha had a preference for National Public Radio. We parked about a block down the street from the coffee shop and walked, the demon trotting along between us. I couldn’t help but be amazed at how much he resembled a human child—not just in looks, but in demeanor as well. He paused to tug on a fluttering piece of tinsel, darted forward to peer at a bug crawling along the sidewalk, pointed and laughed at a battered snowman decoration.

Apparently he looked convincingly child-like to others as well. A middle-aged woman dressed in a full-length leather coat and a fur hat paused in her cell phone conversation as we approached. She frowned as her gaze came to rest on the demon.

“That child needs a coat!” she informed us with an imperious sniff as we passed her.

I gritted my teeth and kept going. “Pushy bitch,” I muttered. I’d even asked the demon if he was cold. What, I was supposed to make him wear a coat he would be uncomfortable in?

“Maybe Votevha can go smile at her,” Jill said, eyes glinting wickedly.

The demon stopped, looked back at the woman. His eyes narrowed, and then he looked back up at me. “Free.”

I blinked, then shook my head, fighting back a smile. “I am grateful for the offer, but it is best that we remain discreet.”

He nodded once, and continued walking. Jill and I fell into step on either side of him again.

Jill gave me a baffled look. “What was that about?”

My lips twitched. “Votevha was offering to, ah, smile at that woman as a free service. Apparently he thought she was a pushy bitch too.”

The demon gave a firm nod. “Bitch.”

Jill gri

We slowed as we neared the shop. “Okay, I see his car here,” I said, nodding toward the BMW parked across the street. “You two sure you can handle this?” I shot Jill a concerned look.

“Oh, please,” Jill said. “We walk in, we walk by his table, Votevha here grabs his hand and assesses him, we walk out.” She looked down at the angelic-looking demon. “Did I miss anything?”

He shook his head. “Perfect.”

“All righty, then,” Jill said. She gave me a reassuring look and took the demon’s little hand. “Let’s roll!”

I waited until they entered then followed. Despite the demon’s confidence, there was still plenty that could go wrong. If Roman was a summoner and got a good look at Votevha’s eyes, he’d instantly recognize a nyssor and know that we were on to him. Maybe I should have found sunglasses for the demon, I fretted as I walked into the coffee shop.

Roman was at a table against the far wall. He’d apparently been watching for me, and he lifted his hand in greeting when he saw me. I gave him a nod in response, but I was also trying to keep an eye on Jill and Votevha without actually looking their way and drawing attention to them.

I started moving toward Roman as Jill and the demon went past his table. In a smooth, effortless move, Votevha set his hand on Roman’s without even looking at him, without even a hitch in his stride, then pulled his little hand away as he walked beyond the reach of his arm. It looked like nothing but a curious kid who wanted to touch everything around him.

Fucking hells, I hoped the contact was long enough.

“Oh, darn,” I heard Jill mutter. “C’mon, sweetie, Auntie Jill forgot her purse.” The pair turned around, retraced their steps through the tables, and a few seconds later were out the door.

I gave Roman a broad smile, and pulled a report out of my bag. “Hi, Roman. I’m so sorry to call you down here, but I really need to get this sewn up. My sergeant’s on my ass, and I’m in a huge rush.” I handed him a pen and plopped the report down in front of him, positioning it so that he could only see the last page which, conveniently, had nothing case-related on it. Important, since this report was for a completely different case, due to the inconvenient fact that I had yet to write anything up on the Landrieu death.

He chuckled, lifted the pen, signed where I was pointing. “Not a problem. Anything else you need?”

“That’s it,” I said with a cheery smile. “Thanks a million!” I quickly scurried out before I could be drawn into any conversation. Less than a minute later I was climbing into the car where Jill and Votevha were already waiting.

“Well?” I twisted around to look at the demon. “Is he a summoner?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I sagged back in my seat. “Damn.” Then I jumped in shock at a tap on the window. I turned, half expecting to see Roman, but instead it was Eilahn, expression grim.

I hit the button to lower the window while trying to get my pulse back under control.

“We have a problem,” she said.

“You mean, besides the fact that Roman isn’t the summoner, and we’re back to square one?”

“Yes. Someone is trying to get to the house.” Her eyes narrowed. “Several someones. I think they are there to search it.”

“Shit!” I gripped the steering wheel as my mind whirled. “The basement. Fuck. My implements. The summoning circle and the storage diagram. It needs to be cleaned. I can’t let anyone see that storage diagram.”

Her expression grew dark. She understood my concern. I’d created that diagram with a generous boost from Lord Rhyzkahl. He’d seemed very pleased when I discovered the way to store potency, which made me believe that it had been his intent to point the way. But as corny as it sounded, such a diagram in the wrong hands could be pretty damn dangerous. With a sufficient quantity of stored power, a summoner would have little problem calling and binding a demonic lord. Even Zack had posited that the reason I was a target was because I knew how to store potency. I wasn’t completely convinced of that, since I had yet to figure out how to increase the capacity, but then again, someone else might be able to work that out. At any rate, for now, it was surely best to keep the details of the diagram secret.

She placed a hand on my arm. “I will go there at speed and remove all evidence of your arcane activities.” Her eyes went to the demon sitting in a booster seat in the back of my car. “Protect her if the need arises. I will pay.”

“Done,” came the treble reply. Then I blinked and Eilahn was gone.

“That’s so hard core,” Jill said under her breath. I gave her a questioning look, and she gri