Mark of the Demon (Kara Gillian 1)

“They are sigils of control, of binding,” he continued.

“So, um, her killer used the runes to control her?”

He bared his teeth and I could feel his forming anger. “No. These are for control of another.” He flicked his hand and the rune shattered, fragments of light spinning off and dissipating like scattered droplets of blood.

My throat felt as dry as the Sahara. “Who?” I dared to ask.

He snarled, a wave of fury flowing from him that sent me backing to the wall. His aura swelled, choking me with its potency—an anger even more deep and horrifying than when he’d come through my portal. I slid down the wall, curling in on myself, mewling in terror as the consuming aura of rage and anger smothered me.

I could hear a distant pounding, but the menace and vehemence rolled over me, choking me. Hands grabbed at me and I struck blindly at them.

“Kara!”

I struggled to breathe through the suffocating mire of my fear. More hands clawed at me, pulling me deeper.

“Kara!”

I screamed, flailing against the grip on me. Then pain exploded in the side of my face, and in the span between one heartbeat and the next, the fury was gone.

I gasped for breath, blinking in the light. Someone was shaking me, shouting my name. I felt another stinging blow on my face, and I threw my arms up to defend myself.

“Goddammit, Kara, wake up!”

I lowered my arms cautiously. Special Agent Kristoff stood over me, his hands gripping my upper shoulders, a baffled and worried expression on his face. “Jesus Christ, Kara! Are you all right?”

I gulped and sat up, looking furtively around the room, even though I knew that he would not still be there. I let out a ragged breath. “Holy crap.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, still holding my shoulders, face etched with concern. “I pulled up to the house and I could hear you screaming from outside. I had to break down your front door. I thought you were being eviscerated or something!”

I dragged a trembling hand across my face. “No. I mean, yes, I’m all right. It was just … just a nightmare.”

He slowly released me and straightened. “That must have been one hell of a nightmare.”

I shuddered. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Not really a nightmare. I just had an unshielded taste of a furious Rhyzkahl. My throat felt dry. I’d just had an intense reminder of what he was and what he was capable of.

I looked up at Ryan, suddenly wary. “What are you doing here? Are you serving a search warrant?”

An expression of utter confusion crossed his face. “A what? A search warrant? What are you talking about?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, beginning to feel slightly foolish. “Um, well, after our argument last night, I kinda thought you might come back with a search warrant.”

He stared at me for several heartbeats. “Detective Gillian, you are insane,” he declared at last. “I came back this morning to apologize for being an absolute ass last night. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

I smiled crookedly. “Really?”

He laughed. “Yes, really. Then I heard you screaming and busted my way in.”

I looked past him at my front door and could feel my jaw drop. The door hung twisted and broken, barely held by one hinge, and the frame was shattered, with wood fragments scattered throughout my foyer. “Holy shit, did you drive your car through the front door?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I really did think something awful was happening to you.”

I laughed weakly. “Okay, that’s kinda sweet, in its own weird way. Even worth a destroyed door.” I stood, tugging my sweatshirt into place, then walked over to the remnants of the door. “But how did you do this?”

“I’m stronger than I look, okay?” he said, exasperation showing in his tone. “Kara?”

“Yes?”

He looked at me, head slightly tilted, eyes serious. “Did you summon last night after I left?”