Secrets of the Demon

But first I intended to have my coffee. Nothing was going to happen until I had a caffeine infusion.



I loaded the coffeemaker with the appropriate quantities of grounds and water, then waited impatiently for enough to brew so that I could fill my mug. I glanced at the clock as I stirred in my usual insane amounts of sugar and creamer. I had barely enough time to check my email before I had to head out, which was convenient since I had an annoying tendency to forget to check it when I was at home. Not that I suffered from an overflowing inbox, but sometimes the penis-enlargement spam was worth a chuckle.



I sipped cautiously as I walked down the hall to the living room and my computer, humming in silly pleasure as the coffee worked its lovely stimulating magic on my nervous system. I set my mug on the desk, then went still.



Something’s different. The thought skittered through my head. Something was out of place . . .



The chair. It was pushed all the way in. I never did that. A chill ran down my spine even as I tried to talk myself out of being freaked. Okay, so it’s more than possible that I actually did push it in after I used it last time. Except that the keyboard tray was also pushed in. Again, I never do that. Pushing in the chair was like making the bed—they were both actions I considered to be totally pointless since I was merely going to undo it the next time I wanted to use the computer or sleep in the bed.



My gaze swept over the desk and computer, finding more things out of place. It was all little inconsequential things . . . the mouse was moved, the keyboard shifted. But taken together it was an unnerving whole. And, when I finally sat down at the computer, I realized that the monitor had been adjusted as well. For someone taller.



It’s impossible. This house is warded to the teeth. I’d learned my lesson after dealing with the wards at my aunt’s house and had spent several weeks summoning the demon Zhergalet to get my own house as secure as it could be.



I took a deep breath in an attempt to control my stupid paranoia. This was insane. Why the hell would someone break into my house to use my computer? Jiggling the mouse to clear the screensaver, I was relieved to see the familiar sight of my computer desktop. At least it still worked.



I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen. I dozed off for a few minutes, after Rhyzkahl and I . . . Had it only been a few minutes? I hadn’t bothered to check the clock or anything. Had he used that opportunity to come up here and . . . what, surf the Internet? It sounded insane. And how would he know how to use a computer? And why?



Unless he was simply trying to learn more about this world? That made a strange sort of sense. But why hide it from me?



I rubbed my arms, chilled by uncertainty. I didn’t know whether I wanted to summon the lord immediately to confront him, or put off seeing him again as long as possible.



I scowled. I couldn’t summon him again. It would be several days before I could store enough power to do so. Besides, what would it accomplish? What, I was going to accuse him of using my computer, and he would say, Yes, I did, and I would say something like, Oh, well, don’t do it again?



Yeah, that would be effective.



But the acceptance that I wasn’t immediately going to summon the demonic lord didn’t stop me from fretting about the whole thing pretty heavily while I drove over to Jill’s house. I wanted badly to talk to someone about it, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Ryan. And I didn’t want to go anywhere near the subject of Rhyzkahl with my aunt.



I grinned wickedly. My nemesis. Jill wanted to drag me out of bed early? Then she could listen to all of my whining.



Jill lived about half a mile from my aunt Tessa, in a house that was within about two blocks of being in a rather crummy section of town. I always made sure to lock my car doors whenever I went over to her place. However, I loved her house. It was two stories, small and skinny, painted in a dusky blue that I adored, and raised a few feet off the ground. Somehow it reminded me of a really cool clubhouse.



“Let’s go, you lazy bitch!” I yelled as I came through the front door.



“Bite me, you whore!” I heard the cheerful reply from the direction of the kitchen. I laughed and headed to the back. Her house couldn’t have been more than about eight hundred square feet—and that was counting both floors, but it was all tucked together neatly and efficiently. The front of the house was the living area and the back was the kitchen. There was only one bedroom, which, along with a bathroom, took up the entire second floor. And, the only way to get upstairs was by way of an utterly charming wrought-iron spiral staircase. I was dying to put one of those in my house, except for the annoying fact that my house had only one story. And I couldn’t replace the basement stairs with a spiral staircase, since most of the demons I summoned would never be able to navigate it.



Thus I was reduced to lusting after Jill’s.



Jill was perched on a stool with one foot on her counter as she tied the laces of her shoe, and I silently en-vied the muscle tone in her legs. Slender and petite, she had the sleek athletic build of someone who was always moving. Her red hair was cut into an adorable pixie style that I’d always wanted to try, but had long ago accepted could never pull off with my facial features. It totally worked on Jill, though she was far from “adorable.” Fierce, determined, loyal, and caring—yes. Adorable? Not in this lifetime.



“I think I need new shoes,” she said sourly. “I had to superglue the sole of this one back on last night. Why do they have to be so damn expensive?”



“Space age engineering,” I replied. “Make you better runner. Faster. All that stuff.”



“Ha. Make you broker runner.”



“Y’know, if your shoe is falling apart, it might be safer to not run,” I said, probably a little too hopefully.



She gave me a quelling look. “Nice try. You’re not getting out of this.” She laughed as I stuck my tongue out at her. “So I hear you had fun the other night!”



“Would have been a lot more fun without the whole chase-the arcane-creature-through-the-city part.”



“You chased something?” she asked, skepticism heavy in her voice.



I planted my hands on my hips and tried to look offended. “Is it really that hard to believe?”



“Yes!” she said with a laugh. “I’m your running partner, remember? Or should I call it your wheezing shambling jogging partner?”



“You are such a bitch,” I muttered, unable to keep from smiling.



“Yep, which is why I’ll go ahead and remind you now that the PT test is in two weeks, and we’re running again on Friday, and you need to have your butt over here by six A.M.”



I scratched the side of my nose with my middle finger cocked in a rude gesture. “Seriously, you’re really a bitch. I don’t know why I bother with you.” I took a dramatic breath. “Okay, so I might have hitched a ride with a demon while Ryan and Zack did the actual running part of the chase.”



“Now that I can believe!” Her blue eyes were bright with amusement.



“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I planted myself on a stool. “Now, in the spirit of me putting off running as long as possible, I was hoping you could help me with something.”



“Sure thing, as long as it doesn’t take so long that you try to weasel out of running altogether.”



I batted my eyes innocently. “Would I do that?” I ignored the rude noise she made. “Tell me everything you know about golems,” I said.



She blinked at me. “Excuse me?”



“Ummm, aren’t you Jewish?”



She gave the most withering look I’d ever experienced. “Okay, I like you,” she said, “and so I’m not going to say something that I would probably go ahead and say to anyone else.”



“Er, thanks?” I said tentatively.



She laughed. “Look, golems are part of Jewish lore, but I don’t know much more about them than anyone else. Hell, most of what I know is from watching The X-Files.”



“Oh, no,” I breathed in horror. “Don’t tell me you’re a nerd too!”



“Well, I can’t hold a candle to Ryan and Zack, but yeah, I liked X-Files when it was on. Anyway, there was one episode about golems that was fairly true to legend.”



I groaned. “Please don’t make me go watch it. Can you sum up the legend stuff for me?”



“You are so damn pathetic,” she said, eyes flashing with humor. “Well, all I really remember is that they’re animated creatures made from inanimate matter. And there’s usually something written on the forehead, or a piece of paper in the mouth. Erase the letters or remove the paper and the golem stops or falls apart.”



“I don’t remember seeing any letters on the thing’s head,” I said with a shrug. “Heck, I’m not even sure it was that sort of golem, but I know that a lot of legends have a seed of fact at their core.” Inanimate creature animated by magic, or in this case some sort of arcane power I wasn’t familiar with.



“So you think that’s what grabbed Lida Moran off the stage?” Jill asked.



“It’s a theory.” I gave her the summarized version of what happened.



“Too weird,” she said with a shake of her head after I finished. “And you’ve stalled long enough.” She bent over in a stretch, placing her palms on the floor with her legs together and knees straight.



I winced. “Show-off. I can barely touch my toes.”



She straightened with a grin. “I used to be a gymnast. Had a gymnastics scholarship and everything.”



“I can’t even do a cartwheel!”



“Yeah,” she said as she headed to the door with me. “Not sure why I hang out with you.”



“Because you can’t have Pellini, so you settled for me.”



Jill pulled the door shut behind us, then made a sound in her throat as if she was about to barf up a hairball. Pellini was one of the other Violent Crimes detectives at the PD, and Jill and I shared a dislike of the man—one that was fully reciprocated. “Oh, yes, I pine for that big, disgusting, misogynistic, lazy idiot.” She locked the door and stuck the key in the pocket of her running shorts. “Okay, usual route, or bump it up?” She eyed me expectantly.