Blood of the Demon (Kara Gillian 2)

I gave a breathless laugh. “I would imagine so.” I pulled very lightly against his grip on my arms and he released me, almost as if he was barely aware of me anymore. I stepped back as he moved to the back door and opened it. It briefly flashed through me that I shouldn’t allow him outside in case anyone came over, but then I remembered that not only did he not look like a demon, no one ever visited my house anyway. And I would hardly be embarrassed to be seen in public with him.

He walked down the stairs and out into my backyard. He stopped about ten paces from my house, then looked up at the moon. He inhaled—not deeply or dramatically, just the deep breath of someone who wanted to take in the scent of his surroundings. I slowly followed him, stopping at the bottom of the steps. After several minutes he turned back to me, face inscrutable. He walked to me and stopped, looking down at me.

“Three questions.”

I gulped softly and nodded, remembering the crumpled paper in my hand. I peered down at it, but the light was too dim for me to read it well. “I … uh, need to go back inside.”

He gestured toward the house. I returned inside and he followed behind me, closing the door as I looked down at my list. Shit, just three questions? I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to figure out which ones were the most important.

I gripped my hair, then released it and looked at the demonic lord, experiencing a brief moment of disorientation as the reality struck me that Lord Rhyzkahl was in my kitchen.

“Okay. Is it possible that an ilius has been summoned here and is consuming human essences?”

“No,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. I waited a beat, then silently cursed myself for phrasing the question so poorly. “An ilius would never consume human essence,” he continued after several seconds, apparently realizing that being too much of an asshole about the questions was not the best way to impress me. “Not only is it forbidden—for too much of such would upset the balance of potency in this sphere—but they have no taste for humans.” A slight smile played on his face.

I bit back my desire to blurt out something stupid like Really? They don’t? He’d been magnanimous about giving me a more thorough answer to my first question, and I didn’t want to push my luck. Okay, so it wasn’t an ilius. What the hell else could it be, then? But I needed to consider how to word it so that I would get an answer that was useful to me.

I thought for a minute, then decided to skip to a different question. This one was vitally important to me, and I wanted to be certain that it got asked. I carefully phrased the query in my head. “How can I restore to my aunt the essence that was stripped from her during the ritual to summon you by the Symbol Man?” It wasn’t the smoothest sentence structure in the world, but it asked the question I wanted answered.

He acted as if he hadn’t heard me as he slowly walked around my kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets, looking inside the fridge, face completely expressionless. I was about to repeat my question when he spoke.

“It is a series of rituals—each similar to a summoning, but you would be calling to her essence. Gather aspects of her—blood, hair, as well as items dear to her heart.” He went on to describe the ward structure as he walked toward the front of the house. I trailed in his wake, scrawling notes furiously on the back of the piece of paper. Then he paused and looked back at me. “But it is not a fast process. It may take some time, and you will need to take care with each step.”

I caught myself before asking, How much time? That could have counted as question number three. Instead, I nodded. “Thank you.”

He continued on through my house, stopping when he reached my living room. “I have seen this only through the touch I had in your dreams. It is quite fascinating to see and sense it in the flesh.” He brushed fingers across my desk and the computer, then moved to the fireplace, gazing at the photos on the mantel. There were only two pictures. One was of my aunt and me, which had been taken during Mardi Gras several years ago. We were both dressed in purple jumpsuits—the purple people from the “Purple People Eaters” song.

The other was a picture of my parents, taken just a year or so before my mother got sick. In the picture, they were sitting next to each other on a low oak tree branch at City Park in New Orleans, with my mother leaning against my dad, his arms around her. Her hands were clasped around one knee and her head was tipped back against him, her blond hair teased by a breeze.

This was one memory that was fixed forever in my essence. I’d taken that photo when I was six years old, having begged and whined and pleaded to be allowed to use my dad’s 35 mm. I’d used up nearly the whole roll of film, and this had been the best picture of the small handful that came out.

Rhyzkahl’s gaze lingered on the photo for long enough that I had an unnerving desire to snatch it away from him. For some reason I didn’t like the thought of him looking at it, whether through my dreams or in reality. “Do you still have a link to my dreams?” I demanded.

This time true delight lit his eyes. “You miss my presence in your bed?”

I glared at him, refusing to rise to his bait. It was beside the fact that there was a measure of truth in his words.

He came to me, sliding a hand through my hair. He cupped the back of my neck, then pulled me close and kissed me again—a powerful kiss, and one that showed just how much he was in control. Then he released me, leaving me to stagger to regain my balance, skin aflame with heat.

“The dream link I had to you was destroyed when you died in my realm,” he said, inclining his head to me as I struggled to control the mad thrum of my pulse. “And that was your third question. A pity. Now you will need to summon me again to seek answers to more questions.”

Then, before I could respond or react, he stepped back and was gone in a flash of white light.

Chapter 10

I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to sleep, as annoyed as I was at both Rhyzkahl and myself. But three glasses of wine helped chill me out, and that, combined with my overall exhaustion level, allowed me to sleep until nearly seven a.m., which was good since I knew it was going to be a long day. Although it was a Sunday, Dr. Lanza was performing the autopsies on Brian and Carol Roth this morning, and once that was finished I needed to pay a visit to Tessa.

“Three questions,” I grumbled. I glared at myself in the mirror and tugged a brush through my hair. “You couldn’t handle three simple questions.” I’d even been lucky enough to have questions already written out, and I’d still screwed it up. And now it would be another month before I could summon him again.

He was sneakier than I’d expected. That, or I was stupider.

I scowled as I put on mascara. “Stupider. Definitely stupider.”

The door to the morgue was propped open with a chunk of concrete when I arrived. Doc wasn’t at his desk in the outer office, so I stepped in and peered into the cutting room, wrinkling my nose at the odor. It wasn’t a dead body smell. This morgue never smelled like that. The morgue tech, Carl, was obsessive-compulsive about cleaning, and the stench of bleach and other cleaning products was nearly overwhelming.

The door to the cooler on the opposite side of the room swung open and Carl exited, pushing a stretcher with a black body bag on it into the room. Carl was Doc’s right-hand man in the morgue and often helped out with body collections—or “body-snatching,” as it was gruesomely termed. I’d never seen him ruffled, even at the grossest or strangest of death scenes. He did his work with a silent efficiency that would have been dour if dour wasn’t too much of an emotion for him to display.>I slowly walked over to the fireplace, hitching myself up to sit on the table, oddly pleased that it had the added effect of allowing me to look down at him. Not that it made me feel superior in any way at all. He still radiated stunning power and potency. And why did he have to be so damn hot? I bit back a groan as my body eagerly reminded me that it had once enjoyed his hotness quite a bit. “So what’s in it for me?”

His eyes sparkled with uninhibited delight. “Your brief time in the demon realm has done wonders for you. For starters, you would have access to me.” He waved a hand in a grand gesture that encompassed his entire person.