Diana Rowland - Sins of the Demon

Still unsettled, I pulled out my phone and commenced with the various calls I needed to make. First was to my sergeant, Cory Crawford, to let him know that I was—again—in need of a new vehicle, though at least there was a possibility that my current one was fixable. My last car had gone into the Kreeger River when I’d been shoved off a bridge by a soul-stealing psychopath. My life was seldom dull.

I was getting ready to call Eilahn when I saw her pull in front of the coffee shop on her motorcycle. It was actually my aunt’s bike, but she hadn’t ridden it in months and was quite willing to allow Eilahn to use it—a relief to me since Tessa didn’t have a motorcycle endorsement on her license. Neither did Eilahn, for that matter, but since all of the demon’s identification were forgeries, it was a bit of a moot point. Besides, since Eilahn was in human form, she needed a way to get around, and the motorcycle gave her the most flexibility.

Eilahn parked the bike, pulled off her helmet and shook her hair out in a perfect imitation of a shampoo commercial. Sometimes I wondered if she did the drop-dead gorgeous thing just to annoy me. The level of conversation in the café dipped briefly as she strode in—wearing leather jacket and boots and holding a motorcycle helmet in her hand. Because, y’know, she didn’t look like enough of a hot chick already.

She dropped smoothly into the chair across from me and set the helmet on the floor by her feet. “Something’s wrong,” I said, then glanced around to make sure there was no one close enough to hear what we were saying. Eilahn gave a slight smile, then traced a small glyph in the center of the table. Curious, I took a quick peek in othersight. It held a dull glow, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything. It certainly wasn’t a protective ward—at least not any kind that I’d seen before.

“Discourages eavesdroppers,” she explained. “You and I can hear and understand each other fine, but anyone else will hear only mumbles, or snatches of phrases that make little sense.”

“That is too cool,” I breathed, staring at the glyph as I tried to memorize how she’d created it.

A faint flicker of pride crossed her face. “I will teach it to you later, if you wish. But for now we are free to discuss…matters.”

I sipped my coffee as I tried to gather my thoughts. “There’s a connection between the victim out at the nature center and the woman who ran into my car.”

“I assume you mean more than the nosebleeds before their deaths?”

I let out a slow breath. “Yes. So I guess that means she didn’t make it.”

“She was dead before you could even lay hands upon her.”

I didn’t feel any elation or relief at the knowledge. I was more pleased that since she’d been taken to the hospital, and it wasn’t a homicide, I didn’t have to investigate her death. That was for the hospital and the Coroner’s Office now.

“What killed her?” I asked.

“That I do not know,” she replied. “I sensed the freeing of the essence, but I cannot tell the cause.”

“I knew both of the victims.”

She tilted her head, eyes on me. “You do not seem grieved at the passing of either.”

“Probably because I’m not,” I replied. I sat back and tunneled both hands through my hair. “Fuck. Barry Landrieu gave me heroin when I was fourteen, and I came within inches of dying of an overdose. And Evelyn Stark,” I cocked my head toward the window and the view of the aftermath of the accident, “was driving drunk when she crossed the center line on Serenity Road and killed my dad.”

Her eyes darkened with sympathy. “You were not in the car?”

I shook my head. “My dad got a call from a client who needed some papers notarized. He was a lawyer,” I explained. “He knew he was only going to be a few minutes, so he left me at home while he went to meet the guy.…” I’d been so pleased that he thought that, at the ripe age of eleven, I was old enough to stay home by myself. When he still hadn’t come home after two hours, I’d been worried sick and terrified to call the police because I thought I’d be getting him into trouble. It had been another hour before the knock on the door came.

“And then your aunt had the care of you,” Eilahn murmured. “Which is how you learned to summon.”

“Yep.” I took another sip of coffee to give me a few more seconds to push the unpleasant memories back. “Not the way I would have planned it, given a choice.”

“A tragic path indeed,” she agreed, brow faintly furrowed. Then she spread her hands on the table and looked out the window. “And now these two people who did you harm both die on the day a demon attacked you.”

“Oh, and I used to date the witness who found the first body,” I added.

“Interesting.”

I let out a small bark of laughter. “That’s one word for it. I was thinking of a description more along the lines of ‘fucking shit damn it all to hell this is a confusing mess plus it means there’s another summoner who’s trying to fuck my life up.’” The last time I’d been looking for another summoner had been during my investigation of the Symbol Man murders, and that case had not exactly been wrapped up nice and neatly. Sure, the Symbol Man had been stopped, but I’d ended up dead for a while, and my aunt had ended up in an arcane coma that had taken me weeks to get her out of.

Her full lips twitched. “‘Interesting’ is more concise.”

“Stick with me a few more weeks, and I’ll have you cursing like a pro.” Then I made a face. “Do you know of an easy way to find a summoner?” I asked, looking over at her with undisguised hope. “Are there any demons who can, um, sniff them out or something?”

She raised one dark eyebrow at me as amusement flashed in her eyes. “No.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her firm answer, even though it dashed my briefly shining hopes. “Okay,” I pressed, “is there a way to ask other demons who’s been summoning them?”

She pursed her lips, appearing to seriously consider the question. “In theory, yes, but in practice, it is nigh impossible,” she said. “The demons are divided into numerous factions. It is a constantly shifting dynamic, affected by a number of factors, including which lord they serve. Simply answering a question would require payment on your part.”

I winced at that. Summoning a demon wasn’t like calling forth a genie who’d be at your beck and call no matter what the request. A summoning was a contest and a contract—first to show you were worthy to even call the demon by the level of skill used to create the portal and maintain the protections, and then to negotiate the terms of whatever service the summoner desired of the demon. Everything had a price and failure to abide by the terms—for either party—was a terrible breach of honor. If the summoner was the erring party, they usually ended up dead. There were no bad demons—only poorly worded contracts.

“So, I guess there aren’t too many pollsters in the demon realm,” I said glumly.

A smile curved her lips. “It is possible that you could pose the question and accept free response. However, that has its own drawback.”

“I might tip off this summoner that I’m looking for him or her.”

“Precisely.”

I let out a sigh. I didn’t know of any other summoners in the area, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. As far as I knew there were only a few hundred in the world, but even that was simply a slightly educated guess. We tended to be pretty private about our activities, for obvious reasons.

“Maybe the presence of the demon had nothing to do with the two deaths.” I paused in consideration. “Maybe it’s all a giant coincidence.”

“I doubt that,” Eilahn said, and I had to chuckle. She wasn’t the type to snow me with pointless reassurances or allow me to wallow in comfortable delusions. Usually that was a good thing. But there were times when I could have used some pointless reassurances and some delusion-wallowing. “If it had wanted to kill you,” she added, “it likely would have been a harder fight.”