Diana Rowland - Sins of the Demon

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.

“I know,” I replied, suddenly all full of warm fuzzies. I cleared my throat, about to embarrass myself by welling up with tears or something equally dorky.

Tessa saved me. “Who was the victim at your scene?” she asked.

I straightened my shoulders and got control of myself. “Her brother. Barry.”

Tessa’s mouth became a stiff line. “Yes. The one who thought you were ready to try heroin at the tender age of fourteen.”

“That’s the one.”

“You’ll pardon me if I’m not consumed with grief over his passing.”

I gave a low snort. “No, I get it.” Even though that brush with death had been a wakeup call for my aunt and me, Tessa would never forgive the man for nearly killing me. Frankly, I was a little shocked that he’d never received a visit from a demon.

I didn’t like the unpleasant thought that popped into my head. Carl had said she wasn’t summoning anymore, but how much did he really know? “Tessa, did you ever send a demon after him?” Like, very recently?

To my surprise she gave a sharp laugh. “Oh, how I was tempted. But I accomplished far more by sending the narcs after him and making sure he went to jail.”

Reassured, some of the tension eased out of my back. She wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.

“Now tell me why you think there’s something off about his death.” She cast a narrow-eyed gaze my way.

I shook my head. “First I have to tell you about the other death.” I quickly recounted the incident with the car crashing into mine and the driver’s subsequent death. “The driver was Evelyn Stark,” I finished.

She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them they were dark with sympathy. “She was drunk again?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. But here’s where it gets weird. Both Barry and Evelyn died of multiple strokes.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“And here’s where it gets even weirder,” I said with a humorless smile. “Yesterday morning Eilahn and I were attacked by a graa while we were placing wards around the PD building.”

Her eyebrows dove into a dark frown. “Which means there’s another summoner in the game.”

“Right. I don’t know yet how much of a part this summoner has, but I figure my best course of action right now is to track his or her ass down.”

My aunt grimaced. “Not an easy task.”

“What about that librarian you met in New Orleans when you were first starting out—the one who hooked you up with Katashi?”

She sighed. “No, she passed away quite some time ago.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll get in touch with Katashi, see if he knows of anyone working in this area.” Pain flashed quickly through her eyes and was gone. “He owes me anyway,” she added softly.

I knew Katashi, the summoner who’d trained my aunt. I’d gone to Japan last year for a couple of months to study under him—a complete waste of time and money. He was ninety if he was a day, and a condescending, sexist asshole. I could barely tolerate him for two months. I had no idea how my aunt had put up with him for close to a decade.

“I appreciate it,” I said.

Her chin dipped in a nod. “I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for Katashi to respond. You’d best get to your research, if you want to have any chance of results.”

I smiled wryly. “I guess I’d better.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” she said, then looked back to her cards as Carl walked back into the kitchen and sat back in his chair as if he’d never left.