Blood of the Demon

But enough about that. I had a demon to summon. And a U-Haul to rent.



Chapter 4



My house was still pretty clean from my summoning the night before, which meant that all I had to do was scoop the dirty clothes off the floor and run the vacuum around. Clutter and messes could harbor pockets of unwanted energy, or so my aunt had always said—even though I was fairly sure that was merely a line of bullshit she used to make me clean my house occasionally. But I wasn’t going to tempt the fates by forgoing it.



Fortunately, the cleaning didn’t take much time at all, and once I’d made the necessary changes to my diagram for summoning a reyza instead of an ilius, I went to bed and slept for a solid four hours. I woke up at nine p.m., then took my shower and tried to convince myself I wasn’t being stupid for allowing Ryan to attend the summoning.



My stomach gave a nervous flip-flop, and I scowled. Fear had its place during a summoning—caution was always prudent, and a summoner had to maintain his or her guard in expectation of the worst. But fear that made for uncertainty or shaking hands was the sort that would get a summoner killed.



Of course, thinking about it that way didn’t exactly help control the fear. Don’t be afraid, because if you are, well, you know, you could die a miserable, bloody death.



“Been there, done that,” I muttered. Then I couldn’t help but smile. I had pretty much been through the worst that a summoning could offer, so what the hell was I worried about?



Fortunately, I didn’t have long to fret. At ten on the nose, the doorbell rang.



I pulled the belt on my robe tight and opened the door, gesturing Ryan in. He had a smile on his face.



“You’re going to transport a demon in a U-Haul truck?”



“Well, as you pointed out, it’s not like I can stuff him into the trunk of my car. Are you ready?”



He gave a shrug and a nod. “Ready as I can possibly be, I guess.”



I walked to the door that led to the basement, then stopped and turned to him. When I spoke, I kept my voice deathly serious, because this was deathly serious.



“Ground rules,” I said, holding up a hand. “Do exactly as I say. Stay exactly where I tell you. Keep your mouth shut unless I specifically tell you that you can speak, and then only say what I say you can say. And,” I took a deep breath, “do not mentally extend to feel anything arcane.”



His expression turned puzzled. “I … don’t know how to do that anyway.”



I scowled at him. “You think you don’t. And you probably don’t. But just in case you do and you feel something that you would like to feel more of—don’t!”



He nodded gravely. “I understand.”



I hoped he did. “All right.” I pulled the basement door open. “There are two circles down there. One’s big and complicated and has candles around it and is chalked out in all sorts of nifty colors. The other’s a lot smaller—chalked in blue and green by the wall opposite the fireplace. You get the small one. Go down the stairs and step into that circle without touching the chalk, then face the wall and close your eyes.”



He gave me another grave nod, then walked down the stairs and to the circle. To my intense relief, he didn’t waver at all from my directions and turned to face the wall.



I let out a breath. Yes, I was being a total chickenshit, but I preferred to change into my summoning garb downstairs in the summoning chamber. It might have been complete superstition on my part, but every time I’d tried to change upstairs, something had gone wrong with the ritual. And I wasn’t about to take a chance while summoning a reyza. I quickly slipped my robe off and folded it, then walked downstairs and tugged on my summoning garb—a simple gray silk shirt and pants, buttery soft and easy to move in.



You are such a weenie, I scolded myself. But I wasn’t about to let him see me naked. Though I’d briefly had the insanely wicked thought of telling Ryan that he had to be naked to be a part of the ritual …



Probably a good thing I’d chickened out on that as well. Distractions during summonings were bad. And, oh, how I would have been distracted!



I moved to the circle I had created for him and took a deep breath to settle myself. “You can turn around now and open your eyes,” I said. He did so, and even though his expression didn’t flicker, I was fairly certain that I caught an amused glint to his eye.



Yeah, I deserved that much. “Okay, you can stand or sit within the circle, but decide now, because once I get started I don’t want any movement from you. Also, no matter what happens, do not move from this circle.” He gave me another grave nod.



“All right, do you have any questions?”



He shook his head. “None for now.”



I smiled, working to control the nervous fluttering in my stomach. “I’ll get started, then.”



I pulled potency and activated the wards that I’d placed around his circle earlier, satisfied as they flared into life in shimmering blue and green that matched the chalked colors. Ryan could see the runes, I knew, which I hoped would make it easier for him to remember to stay put. I then turned and walked over to the main diagram, doing my best to put Ryan’s presence out of my mind. He was doing as I’d commanded—staying perfectly still and not making a sound.



I set the bindings and wardings on the main diagram carefully, not daring to skimp even though I—supposedly—had been promised a payment of honor debt from this particular demon. I’d summoned him right before being assigned to the Symbol Man case and then never had the chance to summon him again.



I took a deep breath and began the chant, sensing as much as seeing the protections and bindings flare into life in coruscating colors. I could feel the arcane shudder as the portal connecting the two spheres began to form—a light-filled slit in the fabric of the world, bringing with it a wind and a potency that fought my control. I held my focus with tenacity as I lifted the knife and made a shallow slice on my forearm—spilling the drops of blood that the higher-level summonings required onto the diagram. It felt odd to mar my skin—smooth and scarless since my return from the dead. The cut was never deep—not enough to require stitches, and just enough to leave a hairline scar. I usually made the cut through the same scar, to avoid looking like I compulsively cut myself. But now my skin had become a clean slate again—at least for a short time.



I watched with satisfaction as the runes flared and the portal widened in perfect accord with my will.



“Kehlirik.” The name of the demon filled the basement, the naming merely the last step in a summoning where my will was just as vital as my spoken words. The wind died and the light-filled portal snapped closed, leaving me blinking in the sudden dark. I could feel the movement of the demon in the circle, and I drew the bindings in close as I prepared to deal.



“I am Kara Gillian. I have summoned you, Kehlirik, to serve me under terms that honor us both.” I held the bindings carefully, braced for him to fight me. Would he remember his debt?



“I am honored to serve one who has received such favor from Lord Rhyzkahl,” the rumbling voice said from the circle.



I blinked at the motionless form of the demon for several heartbeats, nonplussed. Favor? Well, Rhyzkahl had saved my life, so I guessed that counted as a pretty big favor. I’d worry later about what it all meant.



“Kehlirik, when last I summoned you, you stated that you would teach me arcane methods in payment of a debt of honor.”



“I did.” He sank into a crouch, folding his wings and resting his clawed hands on his knees as the tip of his tail twitched by his feet. My eyes had adjusted and I could see his face—level with mine, now that he was crouched. Eyes rich with keen intelligence offset the bestial look of his face—flat nose above a wide mouth set off by curved fangs. A thick ridge crest swept back over his head, with curved black horns on either side. “I will repay that debt if such is your desire.” Then his gaze shifted to Ryan’s circle, and to my shock his lips curled back from his teeth and he hissed.



I reflexively tightened my grip on the bindings. “Honored reyza,” I said quickly, “this man is under my protection.”



The demon snapped his gaze back to me, a growl rumbling in his throat, then to my utter relief he lowered his head in acquiescence. “I will abide by your desire, summoner, and will not harm the kiraknikahl while he is under your protection.”



The what? I glanced at Ryan with a questioning look, and he gave me a baffled shrug in response. I had no idea what the word meant, but there was only so much I could bargain for in this summoning, and demons—especially reyza—tended to be pretty stingy about imparting information. Everything had its price, and I had other questions that were far more pressing at this time. Such as, did I screw up in my dismissal of the ilius, and could it have attacked Brian’s essence?



But, more than anything, I needed to get into Tessa’s library, and that alone was going to take every bit of negotiating I had, debt or not.



I mentally filed the word away for later research. Maybe once I got into the library I could find out for sure.



“Kehlirik, I have need of your aid this night—specifically, your skill with wardings and protections.”



The demon tilted his head. “I am quite skilled in such.”



I smiled. Flattery would get you everywhere. “I know. Tessa Pazhel is my aunt, and I have need to enter and access all portions of her library and the contents therein, as well as her summoning chamber.”



He stood, the tips of his horns nearly brushing the ceiling of the basement. “I accept the task and terms as payment of the debt.”



I exhaled and released the bindings, then closed and grounded the portal energy. Kehlirik ascended the basement stairs with a speed and grace at odds with his size. As soon as he was out of sight, I turned to Ryan’s circle and lowered the protections, then looked up at him.



“Okay, possibly stupid question here, but have you ever encountered Kehlirik before? And what the hell is a kiraknikahl?”



He gave me an exasperated shrug as he stepped out of the circle. “How the fuck should I know?” Then his eyes widened. “Holy shit, I do know that demon!”



“You do?”



“Yeah, he was over at my house to watch the Super Bowl,” he said, not bothering to hide his grin. “We shared a coupla brewskies. He’s like my best bro!”



I rolled my eyes and headed up the stairs, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Never mind,” I said over my shoulder. “Kiraknikahl obviously means asshole.”



Chapter 5



The cab of the u-haul reeked of cigarette smoke, but since the air conditioner was nonfunctional it meant we had to drive with the windows down anyway. Fortunately, it was a warm night, and the open windows made for an almost pleasant ride.



Kehlirik had been surprisingly willing to be toted like cargo in the back of the truck, apparently looking upon the whole thing as one more unusual experience that he could relate to his demonkind buddies. I knew that experience in other realms helped demons gain status, so I had to guess that riding in a truck counted. In fact, he’d almost looked excited, which for a twelfth-level demon was utterly unheard-of.



Unfortunately, the U-Haul had been the best idea I could come up with for transporting the demon, since, as Ryan had pointed out so cleverly, there was no way in creation that he would fit into my Taurus. I wasn’t even sure he’d fit into an SUV, which I could have probably rented as well. He would have been cramped—especially with his wings—but, more important than that, I really didn’t want to risk anyone seeing that I had a big horking demon riding in the back of my car.



Not that the reyza was a demon-from-hell kind of demon. The creatures I summoned had been named thousands of years ago, long before any of the world’s religions had designated “demons” as agents of evil and residents of hell. I wasn’t enough of a theologian to know how that had all come about, but my demons resided in a different sphere of existence that converged with this one, and they were no more evil than a gun was. Powerful, dangerous, and deadly, yes. Evil incarnate, no.



It was a thirty-minute drive from my secluded house in the sticks to my aunt’s house on the lakefront. St. Long Parish was small and quiet, mostly rural, in comfortable driving distance of New Orleans. Beaulac, the parish seat, was barely big enough to be defined as a city, and the only reason Beaulac had as large a population as it did was because of Lake Pearl. The city curved around the lake as if hugging it possessively, and Beaulac took great pains to make sure that the lake and its environs were clean and attractive. Tourism, hunting, and fishing were the main attractions of Beaulac, but there was also a cadre of über-rich who lived in the area, mostly on the lakefront. These were people who had no need to commute anywhere—either retired from lucrative careers or independently wealthy.



My aunt Tessa had been fortunate enough to inherit her house from a distant great-aunt shortly after my mother died. The inside of her house was beautifully decorated and maintained, and aside from a few modifications that she’d made, it would have fit right in with any of the other museum-quality houses in the area.



Only, very few people ever got the chance to see the inside.



I turned onto the two-lane highway that paralleled the more sedate drive that bordered the lake, then frowned and took my foot off the accelerator as I saw the flashing lights of marked units up ahead. “Shit.”



Ryan flicked a glance at me. “What?”



I grimaced, glancing at my rearview mirror. There was no way to turn around, and even if there was, it would look insanely suspicious. “It’s state police. They must be doing a DWI checkpoint.”



His face etched into a frown as he looked at the distant flashing lights. “Are you sure it’s not some of your guys?”