Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

He regarded me for an oddly long moment before his head dipped in a slow nod. “The black enamel chest in the solarium.”

I had more questions, but the appearance of Helori stilled them.

“You are needed,” the demahnk said to Mzatal.

Mzatal reluctantly tore his gaze from me. Then, with a casual flick of his fingers, discharged a bolt that atomized Sprout. As the reyza bits discorporeated, Mzatal extended his hand to Helori, and then they were gone.

Chapter 18

With Mzatal’s departure, a blanket of silence seemed to drop over everything. It hadn’t, of course. There was still plenty of noise. Cries of pain, sirens, the crackle of fire, shouted orders. But it felt as if a vital part of me had left.

Sappy much? There was no time for that kind of handwringing. Besides, I couldn’t be sad after getting to share that moment with him, after being here to help him withstand the influence of the two blades. I couldn’t even imagine what Mzatal would be like with all three blades. Never thought I’d be glad that Vsuhl was safe and sound with Szerain.

Vsuhl is with Szerain. Duh. Maybe I could find Szerain and the others by first finding his blade? I’d been its bearer for a short time, which meant I stood a chance of touching it and following the connection to Szerain.

The rift vomited a gout of flame, and I was relieved to see Elofir sprinting back from the barricade. Between us, the corpse of the massive Jontari lay crumpled in the street. This was only the second dead demon I’d ever seen, since on Earth they usually discorporeated—except when they were killed by an essence blade, as I’d done to the reyza Pyrenth at the Farouche Plantation. I hadn?

??t known the knife would kill him dead, and it was the first time I’d ever killed a sentient creature. It was only a tiny consolation that Pyrenth had died on Earth before, so any death here would have probably been a true death. Still, I’d been the one to end him, and even though it had been in pure self-defense and as justified as a killing could get, I knew I would never forget that sick feeling, never lose that tiny pit of grief. Not that I should ever lose it or forget. The day I could take a life without regret would be the day that I became a monster.

I shook my head to dispel the grim thoughts and considered the dead Jontari. Though I continued to have qualms about capturing a live demon, a dead one was fair game. With luck, an examination of the corpse might reveal a vulnerability that could perhaps even the odds.

I turned away and called DIRT HQ. I had no suggestions for their query of how to pack up the humongous corpse, except that they needed to bring something big enough to—

Heat washed across my back. I spun then had to throw up an arm to shield my eyes from the glare of arcane flames roiling over the Jontari.

“No . . . No!” I looked around in shock for some explanation. My gaze froze on Elofir a dozen paces away. “Elofir, stop!” I cried out in dismay. “Don’t destroy it!”

“It is done, Kara Gillian,” he said, quiet voice somehow cutting through the noise. “Leaving it intact would threaten all demonkind.”

My dismay shifted to pissed. I yanked the phone to my ear. “Belay that pickup request,” I snapped at the DIRT person, jammed my finger on the disconnect button then advanced on Elofir. “My fucking world is getting torn to bits because of these demons,” I shouted. “We have to find ways to defend ourselves! And if that means the ‘good’ demons can’t roam free on Earth because they might get hurt, that’s better than humans being sitting ducks for the Jontari!”

“I seek to preserve both worlds.”

“You think I don’t?” I shot back, voice shaking. “I’ve been busting my ass—and getting it busted—to help save your world.” Blood pounded in my ears. “We need an edge, any advantage. Anything!”

“Not like that.” He exhaled softly and shook his head. “There is too much risk to the demons—”

“I’m the best fucking advocate the demons have! But in the meantime, Earth is getting fucked because you lords couldn’t clean up your own goddamn mess!”

He stiffened. “We render aid now.”

“Yeah, for this rift. Gold star for the lords. What about all the incursions during the past two months? What about the ones tomorrow and the next day? Are you going to fight every demon that comes through before they can kill more people?”

Grief flashed across his face, and guilt speared through me in response. But though I felt bad for trampling on his sensibilities, I wasn’t sorry. “You want to be a pacifist? Then don’t get in my way when I’m trying to save human lives. Standing by and cockblocking our efforts isn’t preserving peace. That’s condoning genocide.”

He jerked as if I’d slapped him then went lord-still, expression smooth as marble. In the next instant Helori blinked in between us. Whether by chance or design, I didn’t know, but it broke the tableau.

Helori looked from me to the burning Jontari then to Elofir. His face betrayed nothing.

“If there is time,” Elofir said, voice unspeakably weary, “I will remain to seal the rift while you take her home.”

Without a word, Helori extended his hand to me. At least he wasn’t giving me the finger. I knew damn well he’d read the gory details of what had just happened, if not from me, then from Elofir. I took his hand, and a heartbeat later the sights and sounds and smells of Siberia disappeared to be replaced by those of my back yard. The pleasant fall air felt like a furnace after the frigid temps of Ust-Ilimsk.

I expected Helori to release me and go, but instead he shifted to take my other hand as well.

“Yaghir vahn,” he murmured. Forgive us all. With that, he kissed me lightly on the forehead and vanished.

Rhyzkahl strode to the edge of his circuit, face twisted with frustration. “What is happening? Where did Helori take you?”