Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

The front door opened and closed.

“Nice job, Kara,” I muttered. The guy already lived an isolated personal life because of his “gift.” He didn’t need me to go all passive-aggressive on him. I debated buzzing gate security to stop him but realized that would probably only make matters worse. I’d call him later—after he had a chance to chill out. Or after he decided he’d never tell me anything again, ever.

Maybe I wasn’t as used to having no privacy as I believed. Before Zack and Helori implanted their mental shielding, the demonic lords and their demahnk ptarl could read my every thought, whether they wanted to or not. I’d stopped being pissy about it some time ago since there was nothing they or I could do about it, and staying mad about unintentional voyeurism seemed like a huge waste of mental energy. But clearly, “not being mad” wasn’t the same as “being totally okay with it,” and in my overtired state I’d slapped out at a stressed and exhausted Marco.

I’d already known he had visions, but I hadn’t realized they happened all the time. Or perhaps that was a recent development? I couldn’t imagine how he’d remained a cop for so many years if he was constantly seeing and feeling things about perps and victims and even other cops. Was it getting worse for him? And if so, how long before he cracked?

“Crap,” I sighed. My insensitivity had also lost me the opportunity to learn the flying camera trick. At least that was a low priority. I’d apologize to him later, when we weren’t both so exhausted. Ha! Like that would happen anytime soon.

I pushed to my feet and stretched the worst of the kinks out of my back then checked on Giovanni. He still rested peacefully as if in natural sleep, and so I trudged on to the kitchen. “C’mon, Pellini. Let’s go to the ice cream shop.”

He gave me a narrow look over his laptop screen. “There’s no ice cream at the ice cream shop.”

“I know, and it’s criminal. But there are big shiny crystals there along with a new irregularity that spawned while I was on the nexus.”

Grumbling, he shut the computer. “Fine. But after we save the world again, I want some ice cream.”

“And I want the cats to stop shredding the curtains. I guess we’re both fucked.”

Chapter 11

Though Pellini was right about the dearth of frozen delectables at the ice cream shop, there was something else almost as appealing. Mere minutes after the valve explosion, two six-foot-wide, fifteen-foot-high crystalline shards had materialized in the parking lot in front of Ruthie’s Smoothies. The media had coined the name “Spires” for them, even though in my opinion they were more like Stumps, since they were about fifty feet too short for true spire-ness. But nobody bothered to ask me. Their official DIRT designation was Incursion Zone 212 or IZ-212 for short. Nobody asked me about that either, but at least “IZ-212” was merely boring and forgettable instead of inaccurate.

It was no secret that the Spires were arcane. Anyone with a hint of sensitivity could feel that the crystalline structures carried unearthly resonance. However, it was a secret to everyone except Pellini, Idris, and myself that the Spires were infused with the potency signature of demonic lord Kadir—a.k.a. Creepshow. That wouldn’t mean squat to those new to the concept of demons and lords, but it would to the other DIRT summoners. Since I still had no idea if the Kadir association with the Spires was good or bad, I’d elected not to share that detail with them.

No unauthorized personnel were allowed within a quarter mile of the Spires. A high fence topped with barbed wire marked the boundary of the secure area. Stern-faced soldiers manned the gate and patrolled the perimeter with orders to use extreme prejudice when dealing with anyone foolish enough to ignore the prominent “Restricted Area” signs.

As I pulled up to the gate, a soldier with a rifle slung at his side stepped out of a guard shack and glowered until we came to a full stop. Pellini and I dutifully handed our IDs over. With meticulous care, the soldier compared our faces to our ID photos then scanned our thumbs on a handheld fingerprint reader. Didn’t matter that we were well known to the local DIRT personnel. These guys didn’t take any shortcuts.

At long last the soldier appeared satisfied that we weren’t doppelgängers and called for the gate to be opened. Pellini cursed under his breath as we passed into the IZ-212 compound, and I echoed his sentiments. A couple of months ago, this little strip mall had been a slice of normal, with its karate studio, dry cleaners, and smoothie shop. Now the shops served as headquarters and barracks for the compound, stripped of their non-useful content. The signs were all that remained—a sad reminder of what was lost.

I parked in my designated spot in front of large block letters that announced “3 shirts cleaned for price of 2!” Pellini and I checked that our weapons were locked and loaded, then we climbed out and approached the giant crystal shards. Clear as glass, they each had eleven sides and stood about fifteen feet apart. They also had intrinsic arcane protections with a strong aversion and amnesiac effect. Anyone who got within arm’s length would wander off in the opposite direction without a clue where they’d been going in the first place.

Except for Pellini and me. So far it seemed that we were the only people who could touch the things, and I suspected it was because we each had a unique connection to the strange and creepy Lord Kadir.

Needless to say, the powers-that-be had tried their damndest to find a way around the protections, using everything from drugs to hypnosis in their attempts to subvert the mental effects, with zero success. Even robots and drones proved useless, since their inner workings went up in sparks within about ten feet of the shards, no matter how much arcane shielding they had.

“The crystals are still humming,” Pellini said once we were out of earshot of any of the soldiers. “But can you hear the chimes? That’s new. Except it’s not sound.”

I moved to the nearest Spire then held my hand an inch from the surface, assessing. “It’s like it’s in a register that doesn’t actually exist.”

Pellini frowned. “Kara, look.”

I followed his gaze to the tops of the Spires where rippling patterns flickered like a net of pale blue lightning. “Whoa.” I pulled my hand away from the crystal and retreated a step. “Something woke up.”

“A strategic retreat would be a pretty smart move right about now,” Pellini said, watching as the flickering net spread downward to cover the Spires.

“Sure would be,” I murmured as the rippling increased. Neither of us budged. Shouts of alarm told us the light show wasn’t going unnoticed. “Screw it,” I growled and pressed my hand to the surface an instant before Pellini did the same.

My awareness spread into the shard and beyond, to a space that was neither Earth nor the demon realm. There, potency rotated like an eleven-sided glass planet. At its core, ugly, tangled energy strands writhed. “Sonofabitch.”

“It’s awake, all right,” Pellini said, “but its wires are all crossed up. Maybe we can untangle that—”

“No!” The word burst from me before my brain could engage. “I mean . . . wait.” I licked dry lips. Even when I’d had the nexus resources at my disposal to help me untangle the pre-anomaly, I screwed it up. If not for Rhyzkahl’s guidance, I’d have caused a planet-wide cataclysm on Earth. Here at the Spires, I had only my othersight and my shaky arcane skills.

I shifted my stance and felt the weight of the sidearms that were strapped to each thigh. A faint smile pulled at my mouth. Silly woman. My resources went far beyond my abilities. Bryce had helped me find the best tactical holsters to fit my needs. I’d asked for his help because he knew all about that shit. He was a resource. Right now I had Pellini, along with the crystals and their inherent potency. This tangle probably wasn’t a pre-anomaly, so I could stop freaking out about destroying the world. A little.

That said, even if it wasn’t as nasty as a pre-anomaly, I had a gut feeling it would wreck the crystals if it broke loose. However, my options were to trust myself and Pellini, or risk losing the opportunity to figure out the purpose of the Spires.