Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

Bryce’s eyes were full of understanding. “I’ll handle it,” he said gently. “Kellum and I will head out to finish the deal as soon as the bars are ready to transport.”

Eyes already filling with tears, I nodded then hurried to the house as fast as my knee allowed. I had to stop on the porch to catch my breath from the pain, and I hazarded a look back. Bryce was cradling one of the disks between his hands, head lowered. Memorizing its beauty before he destroyed it?

I continued straight to my bedroom, aching at the suckiness of the whole situation. As soon as I closed the door, I flung myself on the bed, buried my face in a pillow and let myself have a full minute of good solid bawling. Everything was fucked up. Except for the gold, the trip to the demon realm had been a nightmarish waste of time. Lannist was dead, Pellini almost died, my knee was wrecked, and I’d managed to lose the master gimkrah. The need for the summoning hadn’t budged, but what if the graphene net wasn’t enough to hold a Jontari imperator? Had I ordered the destruction of unspeakably priceless artifacts only to end up as meat confetti at the claws of a demon?

Sitting up, I scrubbed at my face then checked my reflection in the dresser mirror. Yup, puffy eyes, red nose. A real vision. My eyes fell on Szerain’s drawing that I’d brought back from the outreach center. Me in the tight pants and flowing brown coat with a spaceship in the background. That Kara didn’t look like a frazzled, exhausted wreck. She was cool and confident and tough as nails, ready to stand firm against her enemies.

A faint smile struggled into place. Had Szerain seen that in me?

“Oh, Kara,” I breathed, “you can be a doofus sometimes.” We’d lost the gimkrah but brought back more than gold. We also had Turek and Michael which meant my chances of contacting Szerain were drastically improved. And if I could pull it off sooner rather than later—like in the next few hours—Szerain and I could hash out the no-gimkrah problem.

I did a mental fist pump. Maybe we wouldn’t need the net. Maybe we wouldn’t need to destroy the discs.

I was almost to the bedroom door on my way to stop Bryce when the ugly truth slid home. The deal for the net was due to go down in mere hours, and it wasn’t the kind of thing that could be rescheduled for my convenience. Not when the people getting us the net and risking major jail time had set a hard deadline. I had at best a fifty-fifty shot of communicating with Szerain before the full moon, and even if I made it past that hurdle, there was only a slim chance that we’d come up with a solution that didn’t require the net. But if we missed this window for making the deal, we’d lose all chance of getting the net. No net plus no alternate solution equaled screwed for the summoning, screwed for Elinor, screwed for everything.

I muttered a variety of curses at the universe in general. There were too many variables in play for me to gamble the lives of not only everyone I loved but possibly all of humanity on an emotional decision to save things—even exquisite, irreplaceable things. Worst case scenario, I’d fail to reach Szerain before the summoning, and we’d be back to square one. But by that time, Bryce would have the net, the moon would be full, and I could re-evaluate my summoning plan.

I returned to the mirror and met my own eyes. This was the Kara from Szerain’s drawing, the one who could make the hard decisions and stand firm. T

he one he trusted to “be lordy.” My dark mood lifted a little. Things weren’t so bad after all.

And they’d only get better if I could watch Janice give Rhyzkahl a healthy piece of her mind.

Humming in anticipation, I dabbed concealer over the worst of the cry-face then headed to the war room.

Chapter 31

Janice was kicked back in a chair when I entered, but the jiggling of her foot betrayed her tension.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” I said. “I’ll take you to see Rhyzkahl now if you want.”

She nodded stiffly and got to her feet. “I do.”

“Just so you know, there are protections set up.” Mzatal’s, of course, which meant they were oh-so-very effective. “If you try to hurt him in any way, you’ll get zapped.”

“So noted,” she replied, words clipped.

I’d warned her. Whatever happened now, I was off the hook. One of our first security guards had snapped when Rhyzkahl taunted him, and unloaded a half dozen rounds at the lord before a flash of light from the slab dropped the guard like a stone. Rhyzkahl remained unharmed, but the guard was out cold. He woke up a day later with zero memory of anything after being hired, and with an inexplicable desire to leave security work altogether and take up cheese making.

I led Janice through the kitchen and out to the porch then gestured toward where Rhyzkahl was dancing the shikvihr. “As promised, one Rhyzkahl.”

She ignored my feeble attempt at humor and moved to the top of the steps. At the sight of her, Rhyzkahl stopped. He dissipated the thready sigils then stood motionless, face a cool mask.

I glanced at her, expecting to see a good dose of anger or possibly a flicker of fear. Anything but the smile that dawned on her face. My bafflement rose as she leaped off the steps and ran toward Rhyzkahl. Was she trying to get a running start so she could pile drive him? Cursing, I started after her. Hadn’t she heard my warning about the protections?

Rhyzkahl remained still until she was a dozen feet away then held his hands out. I stopped and stared in shock as she threw her arms around him in a hug. He pulled her close, his shoulders relaxing as if she brought a fragment of peace with her.

What the actual fuck?

A heartbeat later, he took her hand and started to lead her to his house.

“Oh, hell no,” I announced as I hobbled forward. “You want to speak to her, you can do it out here.”

Janice gave me a startled look, but Rhyzkahl ignored me and continued walking.

Anger swept through me. Baring my teeth, I called up a strand of potency and slammed the house door before he could reach it. “I said no!”

Rhyzkahl turned then stepped between Janice and me. “Leave us.”