Mark of the Demon (Kara Gillian 1)

He laughed. “No. No, this is Ryan asking.”

Damn, but he did have some really nice eyes. And he was a lot cuter when he wasn’t being all FBI-ish. “I was attempting a summoning of a fairly ‘popular’ demon. He’s a lower demon, he’s summoned quite often, rarely if ever causes any trouble, and is pretty easy to bring through.”

“And he decided to act up this time?” he asked.

“Nope. He didn’t come through at all. Something else came through. Something incredibly powerful and a thousand times more dangerous. He destroyed my bindings and protections with a gesture.” I rubbed my arms, still chilled at the memory of that moment of terror. “And I still don’t know why he came through instead of Rysehl.”

He was quiet for a moment, brow slightly furrowed. “But you’re still alive,” he said finally. “How did you defeat him?”

I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my eyes. “I didn’t. It’s complicated, but he left without … um, harming me.” I certainly couldn’t say without touching me.

He ran a finger around the top of his mug, watching me. “What was it?”

“A Demonic Lord.”

His eyes narrowed. “I thought you said that they couldn’t be summoned.”

“Well, normally they can’t. And I didn’t summon him. He came through instead of the demon I did summon. And I don’t know how or why.” I made a face. “The ‘not knowing’ kinda bugs me.”

His gaze seemed to sharpen on me. “I think you should do it.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re not the one who will get the chance to look at the pretty patterns your blood makes on the stone when it goes wrong.”

“Will you put it off again tomorrow?” His tone was challenging. “Knowing what those runes say could be vital to solving this case.”

I scowled, stung. “You think I don’t know that? I know we need to identify those runes, and I know that asking a demon is probably the best way to go about it. But I’m going to do it when I’m prepared, physically and mentally, and right now you’re not helping.”

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s not my place to tell you to do something that’s so dangerous. I wouldn’t ask a fellow agent to run after an armed man into a blind alley with no weapons or backup. And asking you to summon when you’re not prepared is no different. I guess it’s just the excitement of being so close to a summoning.” He hesitated. “Look, I don’t quite know how the protocols for these things work, but, er, is there any way I could be present for a summoning?” He looked at me hopefully.

“No.” My reply was flat, firm, and fast.

He gave a short laugh. “Okay, well, since you’ve had time to think about it and all …”

I shook my head. “Agent Kristoff—”

“Ryan, please.”

I took a deep breath. “Ryan, it’s not that I want to keep evidence or information from you. But it’s just too dangerous. And I have enough uncertainty right now with the botched summoning. The last thing I need is to have you—or anyone—as a distraction in the room. I’ve also never attempted to keep protections on myself and another person. The only times that I’ve summoned with another person in the room, the other person was a summoner and didn’t need me to provide protection.”

“It was worth a try,” he said with a smile. “You don’t get anywhere if you don’t try.”

I returned the smile. “I know what you mean.”

My hallway clock chimed midnight, and he cocked his head. “It is true that summonings have to be done by midnight?”

“No,” I said, “not at all. But it helps if they’re completed before sunrise, because everything gets a bit unstable when the potencies shift from lunar to solar. There are some rare summoners who work in the daytime, and they always try to finish before sunset. Same principle.”

Ryan grinned. “I feel like I should be taking notes. This is great stuff to know.”

I shrugged. “But that’s one of the reasons summoners aren’t generally all-powerful people with demons at their beck and call. It’s fucking hard to summon a demon, and then it’s tough to keep control of a demon for more than a few hours. Especially higher-level demons. They don’t like being summoned in the first place.” It was certainly possible to keep a demon for longer than a few hours, but that was another skill I had yet to master.

He leaned back in the chair. “So how did you get into law enforcement?”

I curled my fingers around my mug. “My mom died of cancer when I was eight and my dad was killed by a drunk driver when I was eleven, so my aunt came to live with me.” Best not to mention the fact that my aunt was a summoner. Let Ryan figure that out on his own. “I turned into something of a wild child—acting out and all that stuff—but somehow I managed to graduate from high school with an adequate GPA.” I didn’t know him well enough to tell him how I’d nearly destroyed my life with drugs and how finding out I could summon demons brought me back from that edge.

“Anyway,” I continued, “when it came time for me to go off to college, my aunt sat me down and had a serious talk with me about how in this day and age education was a priority. I got my act together and went off and got a degree—art history.” I rolled my eyes. “Talk about a pointless degree. I found out that there aren’t too many jobs that use art history degrees, and after I whined for about three months about not being able to get a decent job, my aunt got fed up, threatened to kick me out, and told me to go apply to the Beaulac Police Department, since they were accepting applications.” I smiled. “Best thing she ever did for me. So at the ripe age of twenty-two, I became a street cop, though I think my aunt had something safe like ‘dispatcher’ in mind when she told me to go apply.”

“She sounds pretty no-nonsense.”