“I will attempt to locate an artifact,” Eilahn said. “But the best hope is that Lord Rhyzkahl will be able to determine who is seeking to interfere.”
Interfere. That was a nice way of putting it. Someone in the demon realm was attempting to summon me—bring me through in the same way that I was able to summon the creatures native to that world. The scary part—for me at least—was that if I were to be successfully summoned, the summoner would most assuredly be powerful enough to bind me to his will, make me a slave. If I wasn’t simply killed outright, that is.
I really had no idea whether the ultimate goal was to kill me or not. And why did the graa attack me? What was its goal?
I sank into a chair at the kitchen table and clasped my hands together in my lap to hide the fact that they were shaking slightly. Not sure why I was bothering, since the syraza was definitely perceptive enough to see how off-kilter I was. She placed a mug of coffee in front of me, confirming my suspicion that she was well aware of my mental state. I gave her a weak smile of thanks and wrapped my hands around the mug, exhaling in relief as I took a sip of the most wonderful substance known to mankind. No wonder I hadn’t been able to run faster. I’d been practically uncaffeinated. I shouldn’t be expected to function on only one cup of coffee.
“I hate this,” I confessed. Eilahn tilted her head and frowned. “Not the coffee,” I quickly amended. “It’s perfect. I hate this whole stress and worry and always waiting for some sort of attack. I mean, I know I’m not the toughest chick on the planet, and I’m not some sort of supercop…but I am a cop, and I’ve survived a lot of shit, and I really fucking hate this constant nagging fear that I have going on.” I scowled down into my coffee. “It sucks, and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.”
“You are due to summon Lord Rhyzkahl within the next week,” she replied quietly. “I suggest you do so tonight, since the moon is full. He needs to know about this latest attempt.”
My scowl deepened. “Yeah, well I hate that too—the whole waiting-to-be-rescued crap. I’m not some weak-kneed damsel in distress.”
Eilahn gave a low laugh. “No one who knows you would ever accuse you of being weak in any way.” She stood and turned to the counter while I blinked in surprise at the compliment. “But I do understand your sentiment and why it chafes.” She shot me a glance over her shoulder. “Perhaps some comfort food is in order. I can make a late breakfast if you wish.”
I grinned despite my mood. “You’ve only been with me for a month and a half, and you already know me way too well. I could definitely do with some comfort food right about now.”
The sound of gravel crunching under tires pulled my attention. Reaching out mentally to the wards, I couldn’t sense a direct threat, but someone was definitely attempting to come down the driveway and failing. I glanced at Eilahn. She seemed studiously unconcerned which gave me a pretty good idea of who was attempting to get near the house.
Pushing up from the table, I winced at how much I’d managed to stiffen up in such a short time. I hobbled down the hall and grabbed my coat, pulling open the door to see a dark blue Crown Victoria backing up. I closed the door behind me and watched as it backed up to the first curve, then stopped and came forward again. At about fifty feet from the house the car stopped again and began to back up. Laughing, I made my way down the steps and waved my arms to get the attention of the driver. A second later the car stopped again and Special Agent Ryan Kristoff stepped out, sweeping an annoyed and frustrated glare over the house and the environs.
He didn’t look any different. He still carried himself like a federal agent. His hair was perhaps a bit shorter than normal, in a brush cut that couldn’t quite hide the fact that it tended to curl when it got longer. He had on his usual casual attire of khaki pants and oxford shirt, and the black pea coat he wore over them couldn’t hide the broad shoulders that tapered down to a slim and muscled waistline. But I knew he was different. At least, different from what I’d assumed him to be for so long. It felt odd that he looked the same as always.
A sharp and icy breeze dove down my collar, and I quickly zipped my coat up.
“What the hell have you done to your house?” Ryan demanded.
I stared at him then burst out laughing. This, at least, was the same old Ryan. Moody, mercurial, and charming. “Having some trouble?”
He glowered at me, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t get to your damn house! Did you do something to the wards? I have this overpowering urge to go run some errands first.” He peered at the house, and I had a feeling he was using his own othersight to check out the protections. Ryan had the ability to see and sense arcane power, though as far as he was aware he simply had limited skills that he’d inherited from his grandmother. Of course I knew his true skills were anything but limited, though I had to wonder why he’d been left with any power at all when his memories and abilities had been stripped from him. Maybe it’s impossible to completely shut it down, I mused. Maybe throttling his power down to idle was the only option.
“Yep, Eilahn tightened everything up and tweaked the aversions,” I said. Aversions were specialized protections that simply reduced or altered a person’s desire to cross a particular boundary. They could be overcome if a person had a stronger-than-usual will to get past them, but they effectively deterred most intruders. “Just keep your eyes on me as you drive up and don’t think about the house,” I told him.
He gave a curt nod then smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” I said, probably more fervently than I meant to. Our eyes met, and for an instant I forgot about the cold and the drifting flakes.
Only for an instant, though, because another breeze swirled snow into my eyes. “Arggh! Yes, good to see you, but I’m freezing my ass off in this fucking snow. Just keep your eyes on me!” I retreated to the porch without waiting for a response, though his laugh followed me. He got back into his car and slowly drove toward me as I motioned him forward, feeling a little like the people who direct planes on runways.
As I watched, the tension in his face gradually cleared, and a few seconds later he stopped in front of the house and got out of his car.
“It won’t be so hard next time,” I told him. “The wards will figure out that you’re welcome here and should adjust.”
He trotted up the stairs to me. “Nice to know I’m welcome.”
“Well, how are you supposed to stalk me if you can’t get to the house?” I said with a wink. I yanked the door open and ducked inside, closing it as soon as he was all the way in. “Oh, and by the way, this weather sucks ass.”
He laughed. “I’ve been seeing far too much of this up north. I was really hoping to avoid snow down here.”
“So it’s your fault,” I retorted.
“Apparently so. By the way, that coat looks great on you.” He swept an approving gaze over me. “Is it new?”
“Bought it today,” I said, giving a spin to show it off before slipping said coat off. “Wearing it is the only thing that makes this weather even remotely worthwhile.”
“You look tough in it,” he said. “I figured you’d be wearing that god-awful Members Only jacket of yours.”
“Don’t make me regret letting you through the wards!” I warned. “That jacket has a special place in my heart.”
“It belongs in a special place in the eighties!” He laughed and pulled me into a hug, and I let myself relax into it. We were already back to our usual banter, the old patterns of behavior.
This can work if I just don’t think too much about it. Right? Because I couldn’t tell Ryan what I knew about him. Zack had made that clear. Ryan’s memories and abilities had been blocked for a reason and what little I’d been able to pry out of Zack had been enough to convince me that Ryan was safer not knowing.
But that didn’t mean I had to stop looking for the truth.
I pulled back, then punched him hard in the chest. “Why didn’t you call? Or text? Or em
ail? Or anything?” I demanded.
He grimaced and made a show of rubbing his chest, but I knew that the flicker of pain I saw flash across his face had nothing to do with my punch. “I’m sorry. I’m a dick. I just.…” He faltered.
“Don’t do it again,” I said, relenting. “Okay?”
Relief shimmered in his eyes. “Okay. I promise.”
On impulse I gave him another hug, and this time I could feel that some of the tension had left him.
“Come on,” I said, turning to head down the hallway. “Eilahn said something earlier about a very late breakfast.”
“Do I dare eat her cooking?” he replied as he followed me. He knew Eilahn was a demon. He also knew the demons didn’t like him, though he said he had no idea why. For that matter, neither did I, other than that they called him a kiraknikahl, or oathbreaker. Though it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it probably had something to do with my theory that he was an exiled demonic lord.
“She knows you’re a friend and off-limits as far as any sort of permanent damage is concerned. I think the worst she might do is hock a loogie into your omelet,” I said as seriously as I could manage.
I snickered as I heard him groan. “You’re evil,” he muttered.
Eilahn was already at the kitchen counter and pouring batter onto a waffle iron. I had no doubt that she’d been completely aware of Ryan’s presence in the driveway and of our conversation in the foyer. I wasn’t at all surprised that she hadn’t allowed him inside the protections. She kept her hostility in check at my request, but it was definitely still there. And what the hell could a demonic lord do to deserve exile? I wondered for the millionth time. What oath did he break?
And how much of a fool was I being by continuing to associate with him? The lords were dangerous, and Ryan clearly had enemies. But I can’t simply abandon him, I thought with a touch of defiance. He’s still my friend, damn it. At least until I have a damn good reason to feel otherwise.
The syraza gave Ryan a slight nod as he entered the kitchen. “Good afternoon, Ryan,” she said, tone not quite chilly. “Will you be joining us for a late breakfast?”
He smiled broadly and plopped down at the table. “Why yes, I believe I shall, and thank you for the invite!”
“I did not invite you,” she replied before returning her attention to the waffle iron. I winced at the reply, but Ryan merely smiled wider. Great, it was going to be like this.
I headed toward the coffeemaker. Thankfully, she had also made coffee. “I didn’t know I had a waffle iron.”
“You did,” Eilahn replied with a slight smile. “It was at the back of one of your cabinets. Still in the box.”
I wasn’t terribly surprised. I went through phases where I was convinced I was going to learn how to cook, or at least learn how to make cool things like waffles or margaritas. Those phases usually passed quickly, and the related appliance ended up forgotten somewhere. In contrast, in the relatively short time she had been living with me, I’d discovered that Eilahn was an enthusiastic and skilled gourmet. I had no idea if she’d already possessed these skills, or if she picked them up while here, but I wasn’t about to complain. I’d never eaten so well in my life.
I need to figure out some way to give her an allowance or something. I almost asked her if she needed funds then stopped myself. This wasn’t something I wanted to get into with Ryan around.
I busied myself with getting my coffee the way I liked it and poured a mug for Ryan as well. Ryan knew who and what Eilahn was and knew about her role here as my protector. But I felt strangely protective toward her—which wasn’t logical in many ways, since she was the badass demon.
But the demons hate him for a reason. And even if he doesn’t remember or realize it, he’s pretty damn powerful. I couldn’t…wouldn’t risk Eilahn if I could at all help it. No matter how much I cared about Ryan.
I do care about Ryan, I told myself as I handed him his mug. He met my eyes and smiled as he took it from me, his fingers briefly brushing mine. I returned the smile but I couldn’t fight back the uncertainty. I care about Ryan…the Ryan I knew. Who the fuck is this?
I set my own coffee down on the table, then pulled the chair that faced the hallway out and around to exchange it with the chair across from Ryan. He gave me a puzzled look at my antics. “This chair wobbles,” I explained with a lift of my chin toward the one I’d just switched out.
“So, why don’t you sit somewhere else?” he asked with a lift of one eyebrow.
I plopped my butt down in the replacement chair. “Because I don’t like sitting with my back to the hallway. It gives me the willies.”
Amusement lit his eyes. “The willies?”
“The willies,” I confirmed, with an accompanying sticking out of tongue. “Eilahn does not get the willies sitting there, so that is her usual seat. And you are actually in my usual seat, but I am being nice and not telling you to move.” I smiled sweetly at him and took a sip of my coffee.
Ryan gave a chuckle. “Gotcha. It all makes perfect sense now.”
Eilahn placed a waffle-laden plate in front of me, then removed a second large waffle from the iron, placed it on a plate and took her seat. She paused for a heartbeat, then looked to Ryan with a guileless expression. “I left the waffle iron on for you. There is more batter in the pitcher beside it.”
“I think I need to complain to the management about the service here,” he said as he pushed back his chair, but he gave me a wink as he headed to the counter.
He’s back less than an hour, and I can already see where the dynamic between them is going. Demons or not, I was going to nip this shit in the bud.
“Just so the two of you know,” I said, stabbing my fork into my waffle. “I’m really not into the whole passive-aggressive teasing back and forth bullshit that masks real antipathy, and that the parties involved think is oh-so amusing. Yeah, it’s funny sometimes, but it kind of fucking stresses me out. So, Ryan, stop antagonizing Eilahn. And Eilahn, I don’t expect you to serve him, me, or anyone else, but by human standards telling a guest in your house to cook their own meal is considered rude.” I lifted my head to smile sweetly at them. “And now I’m going to eat my waffle.”
Ryan had the grace to look chagrined. “Sorry, Kara.”
Eilahn inclined her head. “I apologize as well.”
“I have no problem making my own waffle,” Ryan said. “Please go ahead and eat, Eilahn.”
I didn’t detect any trace of sarcasm and apparently neither did Eilahn, for she murmured thanks. I breathed a silent sigh of relief and dug into my comfort food.
* * *
After we finished eating I told Eilahn I’d take care of cleaning up. She didn’t put up an argument. She retreated outside, leaving Ryan and me alone in the kitchen. An awkward silence fell as I ran the water and waited for it to turn hot.
“Any new and interesting cases?” Ryan asked after a moment.
“Sort of,” I said, dabbling my fingers under the running water. “Not a murder but something kind of strange.” I quickly explained about the deaths of Barry Landrieu and Evelyn Stark and how I knew them. I wasn’t about to share the details of my connection to the two victims with the entire Beaulac police department, but I trusted Ryan.
He leaned against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned. “Coincidences make me twitchy.”
“You and me both,” I said. The water was still cold, so I shut it off. Grabbing a towel, I dried my hands as I walked down the hall to a utility closet. “My water heater’s ancient,” I explained as he followed me. “Sometimes I have to relight the pilot manually.”
He wrinkled his nose in sympathy as I crouched and stuck the long lighter into the appropriate hole in the bottom of the tank. “It looks like you’ve done this a few times,” he said.
I listened for the sound of the gas firing up, then stood and nodded. “It’s on my list of things to replace when I can afford it,” I said with a sigh, closing the closet door
. I didn’t bother returning to the kitchen, since I knew it would take a while for the water to warm up, and instead headed to the living room.
“There’s more,” I said as I plopped down into the armchair instead of my customary spot on the couch. Yes, I was a chickenshit, because what if he sat next to me? Then I might have to actually think about how I felt about him and whether his sitting next to me meant anything or nothing as far as his own feelings. And then I’d have to consider the fact that I suspected stuff about Ryan that I didn’t dare share with him, as well as consider the possibility that this whole “Ryan” that I knew was a total sham anyway.
No, much better to sit in the armchair and give myself more time to try and figure all of this crap out.
He didn’t seem to notice my hesitation over the seating arrangements and simply sat on the end of the couch closer to the chair. “More?” he frowned. “Tell me.”
I did so, giving him a rundown of the graa attack as well as the summoning attempt.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed after I finished. “So there’s another summoner involved, there are two deaths that seem to be connected, and someone in the demon realm is still trying to summon you.”
I nodded.
“Are any of these related to each other?” he asked.
I spread my hands and shrugged. “I have no fucking idea.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “Is your life ever dull?”
I could only laugh. “Not in the ways that count!”
He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I have your back,” he said. “In any way I can. You know that, right?”
The memory of the being who’d blasted the golem with arcane power rose up. I could barely reconcile that creature and Ryan as the same person.
“I know that,” I said. He released my hand and gave me a warm smile.
A quiet fell, undercut by the muted rush of the water heater. “Where’d you grow up?” I asked, feeling as if I was taking a hammer to the smooth glass of the silence. It sounded more abrupt than I’d intended. “I mean, you’re not from the South, are you?”