Diana Rowland - Sins of the Demon

“Will do!” came the cheery reply, then she clicked off.

“Okay, kiddos,” I said, “We don’t have much time. I can’t sense wards as long as I have this on, so I’m going to be relying on y’all to point them out to me.”

“You mean Ryan,” Zack said with an easy smile, but there was a glint in his eye. “I can’t see wards.”

“Oh, right,” I said with a laugh. “My mistake.” I held his gaze for another heartbeat. Find a way to warn me if you see something dangerous , I thought, hoping it would come through somehow. I knew perfectly well Zack was capable of seeing and manipulating wards, and with far more skill than Ryan seemed to currently possess. Ryan would hopefully be able to tell if any protections were in place, but I had no way of knowing just how far his demonic lord powers had been throttled back. With the loss of Eilahn, I was relying on Zack’s skill more than ever.

He broke the gaze, but not before giving me an infinitesimal nod. He understood.

“Let’s ditch this joint,” I said, “and hope to hell that we find something useful in one of the other places.”

Traffic was a fucking bitch, adding to the mounting frustration already plaguing us. Tracy’s threat about finding a way to motivate me haunted me, and I knew I needed to be prepared. I knew without a doubt that he needed me alive only because he intended for me to end up dead or drained or something worse. Personally, I wanted to avoid that sort of fate.

The strip mall ended up being a complete bust, but luckily not one that took too much time to check out. It helped that it stood completely empty, and through all the window fronts we could easily see that there was nothing nefarious going on there. Moreover, Zack gave me the slight shake of his head that told me he couldn’t detect arcane residue of any kind—which would surely be there if Tracy had been summoning anywhere around there.

But the residence was a different matter. It was a small single-story house in the middle of the block in a neighborhood that had probably been decently middle-class a couple of decades ago. Now shriveled grass pushed up between cracks in the sidewalk. Several of the mailboxes had dents in them, testimony to someone’s game of mailbox baseball. Few of the yards were maintained beyond a sporadic mowing, and there were several driveways with cars in them that looked like they hadn’t been moved in a while, to judge from the amount of leaves and pine needles caught in piles against tires. A house further down the street looked like it had been broken into and vandalized a number of times—probably a foreclosure. Several windows were smashed and the door had been tagged with spray paint and other unknown substances. The house we were looking at had no cars in the driveway, and a dried brown lawn that probably hadn’t been cut in six months, but even though it looked and felt like an empty house, it remained untouched by any vandalism.

“This is it,” Ryan murmured. “There are definitely protections around this place.” I flicked my eyes to Zack, and he dipped his head in the barest of nods.

Elation surged through me, quickly followed by frustration. We were on the right track, but now what were we supposed to do? “I can’t do anything about the wards with the cuff on,” I said. Not that I was sure I’d be able to do anything even if I didn’t have it on. There was a reason I called demons to do my heavy ward work. I flicked a glance to Zack. He answered with a faint grimace and shrug, then tapped his watch. In other words, Sure, he could probably get through them, but it would take time. And he would need to do it where Ryan couldn’t see what was going on.

I could get Ryan out of the way, but I didn’t think we had much time.

Ryan scowled. “Do you think he’s in there?”

I considered this. “No,” I finally said. “I think he’s wherever he wants me to go. He said he was going to provide incentive for me.” I rubbed my arms through the coat, then I pushed my sleeve back and narrowed my eyes at the cuff.

“When that arcane grenade-thing went off,” I asked, “what did it feel like? What did it do?”

“Hurt like hell,” Ryan admitted. “And left me super-dizzy for a couple of minutes. Could barely focus my eyes.”

I glanced over to Zack, and he nodded. “Same. Pain, dizzy, disoriented.”

I pursed my lips. “And I didn’t feel any of that. I only puked.” A smile slowly spread across my face. “Holy shit. Duh. This cuff not only blocks my own arcane, but blocks arcane shit from affecting me—which is why the drug hasn’t done much to me yet. I’m a moron. Of course that would make me immune to arcane protections as well. ”

“You can cross the wards,” Zack breathed, beginning to grin.

Ryan still frowned. “Won’t it still make you sick?”

“It passes. At the worst I’ll puke, but I’ll be able to get through without getting hurt.” I hope , I added silently.

“And what if he is in there?” Ryan asked, clearly still less than thrilled with this plan of mine.

“Then I shoot him,” I said bluntly. “He needs me alive. I have no such need of him.”

Ryan considered this for a few heartbeats, then gave a firm nod. “Okay. As long as we’re agreed on that.” He handed me the transmitter. “Just in case he doesn’t have a ward blocking the signal.” I nodded and obediently tucked it inside my collar.

Despite my confident words, my heart pounded as I approached the house. A mild queasiness washed over me as I stepped onto the walkway that led to the front door. Those were probably aversions , I thought as I moved forward, gun in hand though tucked inside my coat. No sense freaking out any neighbors who might be watching from behind their curtains. About five feet away from the door, a stronger wave hit me, and I had to pause and take deep, gulping breaths to get it under control. Okay, and those are some of the actual protections. But I was making it through. So far at least. Puking was better then being fried. Still, I hesitated before I tried the door. That’s where the strongest protections would be. Taking a deep breath, I seized the door handle.

Nothing. I exhaled in relief, then frowned in annoyance as I tried to turn it. Locked. Great, a zillion levels of arcane protection, and he still feels the need to use a mundane lock. Shielding the view with my body as much as I could, I broke the decorative window beside the door with the butt of my gun.

And that’s when the nausea slammed into me like a truck. I dropped to my hands and knees and lost breakfast, yesterday’s dinner, and even a few meals I didn’t eat yet, or so it seemed. After what felt like forever it finally faded but I stayed there, gasping for breath as I slowly regained control of my body. Okay, whatever that ward was, it was definitely meant to be a lethal one.

Legs shaking, I pulled myself upright then reached through the broken window and unlocked the door. I braced myself for another layer of protections as I entered, but thankfully I seemed to have already triggered everything that was there. I glanced back. “I’m in, and I’m cool so far,” I said. I gave a thumbs up toward the Crown Vic in case he couldn’t hear me, then closed the door behind me.

There were no furnishings or décor. Nothing on the walls. Only a tired beige carpet with obvious traffic stains. I listened carefully for any sign of life, but silence held the house in a strong grip. Breathing shallowly, I edged forward with my gun at the ready. Clearing a house of possible suspects was best done with backup—preferably lots of backup—but since I didn’t have that option I went slowly and methodically as I searched from room to room. Though I did pause in the kitchen to rinse my mouth out. Bile was never a fun aftertaste.