Sins of the Demon

“Oh, and I used to date the witness who found the first body,” I added.



“Interesting.”



I let out a small bark of laughter. “That’s one word for it. I was thinking of a description more along the lines of ‘fucking shit damn it all to hell this is a confusing mess plus it means there’s another summoner who’s trying to fuck my life up.’ ” The last time I’d been looking for another summoner had been during my investigation of the Symbol Man murders, and that case had not exactly been wrapped up nice and neatly. Sure, the Symbol Man had been stopped, but I’d ended up dead for a while, and my aunt had ended up in an arcane coma that had taken me weeks to get her out of.



Her full lips twitched. “ ‘Interesting’ is more concise.”



“Stick with me a few more weeks, and I’ll have you cursing like a pro.” Then I made a face. “Do you know of an easy way to find a summoner?” I asked, looking over at her with undisguised hope. “Are there any demons who can, um, sniff them out or something?”



She raised one dark eyebrow at me as amusement flashed in her eyes. “No.”



I couldn’t help but smile at her firm answer, even though it dashed my briefly shining hopes. “Okay,” I pressed, “is there a way to ask other demons who’s been summoning them?”



She pursed her lips, appearing to seriously consider the question. “In theory, yes, but in practice, it is nigh impossible,” she said. “The demons are divided into numerous factions. It is a constantly shifting dynamic, affected by a number of factors, including which lord they serve. Simply answering a question would require payment on your part.”



I winced at that. Summoning a demon wasn’t like calling forth a genie who’d be at your beck and call no matter what the request. A summoning was a contest and a contract—first to show you were worthy to even call the demon by the level of skill used to create the portal and maintain the protections, and then to negotiate the terms of whatever service the summoner desired of the demon. Everything had a price and failure to abide by the terms—for either party—was a terrible breach of honor. If the summoner was the erring party, they usually ended up dead. There were no bad demons—only poorly worded contracts.



“So, I guess there aren’t too many pollsters in the demon realm,” I said glumly.



A smile curved her lips. “It is possible that you could pose the question and accept free response. However, that has its own drawback.”



“I might tip off this summoner that I’m looking for him or her.”



“Precisely.”



I let out a sigh. I didn’t know of any other summoners in the area, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. As far as I knew there were only a few hundred in the world, but even that was simply a slightly educated guess. We tended to be pretty private about our activities, for obvious reasons.



“Maybe the presence of the demon had nothing to do with the two deaths.” I paused in consideration. “Maybe it’s all a giant coincidence.”



“I doubt that,” Eilahn said, and I had to chuckle. She wasn’t the type to snow me with pointless reassurances or allow me to wallow in comfortable delusions. Usually that was a good thing. But there were times when I could have used some pointless reassurances and some delusion-wallowing. “If it had wanted to kill you,” she added, “it likely would have been a harder fight.”



So why the fuck hadn’t it? My arm still ached like a bitch where the damn thing had grabbed me. Had it been trying to do something else? Something Eilahn had managed to thwart? I had to fight the urge to thunk my head down onto the table. Fortunately the pinging of my phone signaling a text message distracted me from thoughts of self-injury. I read it with a growing sense of relief. “Ha! Since I’m on call Sarge is arranging for me to get another car.” It would probably be a total pile of crap, but it would be a pile of crap for which I didn’t have to pay a note or gas or insurance.



I stood and drained the last of my coffee. “I’m going to walk down to the motor pool and get my new wheels,” I told Eilahn.



“I will walk with you,” she said. “Too much is happening. I am unsettled.”



That was the first time I’d ever heard the demon admit to anything less than total confidence. There went the last of my comfortable delusions.



Chapter 5



The motor pool for the Beaulac PD was only a few blocks away. Well within walking distance. We’d barely made it past the PD building when we heard an eager shout from behind us.



“Kara! Ellen!”



We turned to see Officer Tim Daniels trotting up, wearing a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “I found her!”



I looked at him blankly. “Found who?”



“Fuzzykins!” His grin widened, if that was even possible. “Wait right here! She’s in my car.”



He took off at a jog. I felt rooted to the spot. “Okay,” I said. “You get to break his heart and tell him it’s the wrong cat.”



The demon snorted. “The fuck I will.”



I had to laugh. She was a fast learner.



Less than a minute later Tim returned, using both hands to carry a large cat carrier. A low throbbing growl began to emanate from it as he approached. “I had to come back by the station to fix my timecard,” he said, breathless and exuberant. “And I was real worried about her being out in this cold and snow, so I tried to think like a cat. Like, where would I go to be warm, y’know?” He set the carrier down. The growl changed pitch briefly, and I could see some sort of creature shifting within. “Then I remembered what you said about the turkey, and so I said to myself, ‘Self, if you were a cat who liked turkey and wanted a warm place, you’d probably end up over by Kelly’s Deli.’ ”



“Um.” I swallowed and tried again. “Are you sure it’s the right cat?”



Chuckling, he crouched and peered inside the container. “Great big calico Manx, right? And it’s a female. I checked, just to be sure, even though male calicos are pretty darn rare.”



“You’re kidding,” I blurted, staring at him. No way he’d found a cat matching my random description. I didn’t even dare look at Eilahn.



He gave an earnest nod. “It’s true! It’s a genetic thing with the way the X-chromosomes carry the coat color.” He shrugged, ducked his head almost shyly. “I like biology.”



I decided not to clarify what I thought he was kidding about. Slowly I lowered myself to peer into the carrier. I saw plenty of teeth and narrow-slitted eyes as it hissed and spat. But beyond that I could see calico fur. Nor was there any sign of a tail.



“That’s Fuzzykins, right?” He was so damn proud of himself. And I could hardly blame him. And what the hell was I supposed to say? It was the goddamn cat I’d described. This was getting ridiculous. Just how many coincidences was I going to encounter today? I could only hope to hell that most of these events truly were pure happenstance. Or maybe I simply needed to go back to bed and start this day over.



“Yes,” I heard myself saying. “That’s Fuzzykins.” I mustered a weak smile. “That’s a good Fuzzykins. Good kitty.”



Fuzzykins gave me a fuck you glare accompanied by a I-want-to-claw-your-face-off hiss. I quickly stood. “Um…she must be traumatized from her time on the street.” Great. A feral fucking cat. What the hell was I supposed to do with this thing?



Eilahn crouched and peered into the carrier. To my shock the growl stopped and the cat gave a perfectly normal mrow? The demon smiled and stuck her fingers between the wires of the carrier door. I wasn’t worried about her fingers getting bitten off—not with demon-fast reflexes, but apparently Eilahn didn’t have to worry about that. The damn creature rubbed her cheek against Eilahn’s fingers and started up a purr that shook the carrier.



Eilahn turned her gaze up to me—no longer the confident, kickass demon, but this time a hopeful eager child with a “can I keep it, pleeeeeeease?” expression on her face. I blinked in surprise. This was a side of her I’d never seen before. I hoped she didn’t want to eat it.



I resisted the urge to sigh and instead forced a smile. “You rock, Tim. Thanks for finding her for me.”



Super. My demon had a cat. Because my life wasn’t strange enough already.



I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning at the exuberant joy Eilahn took in the cat as we walked to the motor pool. Every hundred feet or so she set the carrier down so she could coo at the creature and let it rub against her fingers.



And the questions. Good grief, the questions.



“Is the food that Tim obtained of sufficient quality?”



“We will need to acquire a cat box, yes? What is the proper litter to be used?”



“Veterinary care! I must make an appointment for inoculation. That is how it works, yes?”



“Catnip. Felines require catnip, I have heard.”



At least she wasn’t asking about recipes for kitty gumbo.



We finally made it to the motor pool, and I asked her, “How do you know so much about cats?” On the one hand she seemed incredibly wise and knowledgeable, but on the other she was like a nine-year-old.



“I have read about them,” she said, her brow drawn down into a slightly puzzled frown as if to say, How else would I know about them?



I masked a smile and proceeded to deal with the various paperwork I had to fill out to take possession of the replacement vehicle. Once that was done there was a bit of a delay while the demon fretted over the best configuration for transporting the damn cat.



“I do not wish her to grow upset,” Eilahn said, frown puckering her forehead. “I have heard that cats do not care to ride in cars. If I am in the front and she in the back, will she not grow distraught? Perhaps I should hold her in my lap.”



“Um, that’s a pretty darn big carrier to hold on your lap,” I pointed out.



She blinked. “I did not intend to have her in the carrier. Why can I not simply hold her in my lap so that I can stroke her fur? Will that not calm her?”