Blood of the Demon (Kara Gillian 2)

My plan for the rest of the day was to alternate between channeling potency, eating Oreos, and watching corny movies. Tessa had a huge number of DVDs, so after I came down from the attic, I settled myself in front of the TV and began to browse her collection. However, I quickly discovered that her taste in movies was similar to her taste in just about everything else—quirky, eccentric, eclectic. The Killing Time. Metropolis. El Topo. The Heroic Trio. The Night of the Hunter. Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter. Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. What the hell was that? I thumbed through, hand abruptly pausing on Barbarians at the Gate. I still hadn’t looked at the video from the gate surveillance at Brian Roth’s subdivision.

I retrieved the DVD from my bag and popped it into Tessa’s player, then settled back with the Oreos and the remote. The screen was split into four sections—views from the main cameras at the entrance and the exit and then views from two lower cameras, designed to record the license plates of cars that came and went. The multiple cameras made viewing the video challenging, but after a few minutes I learned to ignore the license-plate views and focus on only the two main cameras. Good thing I had plenty of sugar in my system.

At the one-dozen-Oreos point, I saw a blue Prius exit the gates. I ran it back and checked the view that showed the license plate. Yep, that was Carol’s; 6:30 p.m. Half an hour later on the video, I saw Brian’s Ford F-150 enter. Well, that eliminated the outside possibility that Carol had killed Brian and then gone off to meet whomever she’d met, and it also helped clinch my theory that Brian hadn’t been the one who killed her at the motel.

While my eyes glazed and my stomach protested the sheer number of Oreos that had been stuffed into it, I dutifully fast-forwarded through the next several hours of video, watching to see if the Prius returned or Brian’s pickup left.

A flash of red caught my attention and I sat up, jamming my thumb down on the pause button. I slowly ran the video back, exhaling in astonishment as a familiar red Mercedes convertible came into view. “What the hell?”

I quickly checked the license plate view, then sighed. False alarm. Not Elena Sharp’s after all.

But I kept the video paused on the view of the license plate. Frowning, I picked up my cell phone and dialed the Beaulac PD dispatcher.

“Detective Gillian here. Can you run a tag for me, please?”

After about a minute, I thanked the dispatcher and hung up. Matching red Mercedes convertibles. It wasn’t Elena’s car. It was her husband’s.

I checked the time on the video: 11:30 p.m. I replayed the section several times, then ran it forward to find the point where the car exited the subdivision: 11:50 p.m.

I sat back, image of the red Mercedes frozen on Tessa’s TV. I felt equally frozen. I’d wanted a connection between Brian Roth and Davis Sharp. Now I had it—but I still had to make sense out of it. Maybe Becky the Cardio Barbie was wrong, maybe it was Brian that Elena had been sleeping with, and not his father. If so, maybe Davis found out that Brian and Elena were sleeping together, and went and killed Brian in revenge. That’s fairly plausible. But that didn’t explain Carol’s death.

I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself. Just because Davis had been in that subdivision didn’t mean he’d killed Brian. It didn’t even mean he’d gone to Brian’s house. Stick with what you can determine for now, I chided myself.

I hit the step button on the remote, taking the video forward one frame at a time. It was possible that it wasn’t Davis driving the car.

No, a few frames later, the distinguished councilman was clearly visible in the driver’s seat. But there’s someone with him, I realized. Perhaps his wife? If he was confronting her lover, would he make her come along? Unfortunately, the angle of the camera made it impossible to see anything other than a dark shape in the passenger seat. I muttered several nasty words as I stepped the video back and forth, searching all views for any glimpse of the passenger. I knew it was a person because I could see movement, but that was the most information I could glean. I scowled. In the movies, the detective would simply take the video to the crime lab, and a high-tech computer would magically remove the glare and pixelation and windshield so that I could ID the passenger.

“Fucking real-world technology,” I muttered.

Chapter 30

Despite my awareness of the limitations of video enhancement, I still intended to pass the DVD off to the crime lab to see if anything at all could be done with it. But in the meantime I had a summoning to prepare for, so I returned to my original plan of channeling potency, eating junk food, and watching movies. By evening I had a sugar high, the attic was pleasantly cool, and more important, my lovely little storage diagram had a day’s potency and was holding it perfectly. Moreover, I didn’t feel overly tired or drained. Probably like the difference between sprinting a mile and walking it with lots of rest stops. I could definitely get used to this.

I’d summoned in my aunt’s chamber before but never on my own. It felt strange to make my preparations and sketch the diagram in here—almost as if I were trying on her underwear. But I shoved my unease aside; I didn’t need distractions. I completed my usual preparations, readied my implements, then stood at the edge of the diagram. Taking a deep breath, I pulled potency from the storage diagram, relieved as the power flowed into my control with velvet ease—a thousand times easier than pulling it normally, even on a full moon. I quickly formed the protections and readied the bindings, giddily aware that I’d just increased my power as a summoner dramatically.

But right now I had to finish this summoning. I pulled the arcane power into place, forming the portal between the two worlds. I shaped it to the demon I desired, then finally spoke the name of the demon.

“Zhergalet.”

Heartbeats later, a small squat creature that resembled a six-legged furry lizard crouched before me. Its body was only about three feet long, but it had a sinuous tail that was at least twice that length—though it was difficult to tell, since it never stayed still, winding and coiling constantly. It wore a bright green belt around its middle with small pouches hanging from it. Its pelt was a sleek dark blue that shimmered with a purplish iridescence, and its eyes were a brilliant gold, slitted just like a reptile’s. I personally thought that the faas was absolutely gorgeous.

It snapped its head up and locked those gold eyes on me. “You summon in poor moon now not full you summon night need moon always full right?”

I hesitated half a heartbeat as I parsed the quick words and held the bindings carefully. Terms had not yet been negotiated, and I had to be careful not to give too much away yet. I gave a slow nod. “I normally summon on the full moon, yes.”

Its tiny eyes darted around the chamber. “Tessa Pazhel before call me wards for me to make.” I nodded again. That was why I’d called this particular demon. According to Kehlirik, this demon had placed all of the devastating wards in my aunt’s house.

“I am Kara Gillian, the niece of Tessa Pazhel. I have summoned you here to serve me under terms that will honor us both.”

It bared sharp teeth at me and cocked its head. It looked ferocious—and no doubt was—but I knew that the bared teeth were its own version of a smile. “Yes yes yes, offering you have?”

I picked up the canister of Café Du Monde coffee from the floor beside me, still keeping a firm mental grasp on the bindings. Nothing had been settled yet, and even a small creature like this could do considerable damage to my person. I’d shed enough blood already this year, thank you.

It gave a low warble and hopped forward. “Task you wish exchange for?”

I resisted the desire to squirm in embarrassment. “I require wards to be replaced throughout the house and in the library downstairs.”

It blinked at me, then whipped its head around as if seeing its surroundings for the first time. It let out a low croon that was unmistakably sad. “Oohhhh … work gone. Pretty work all gone who make gone?”