Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

His mustache was gone, and the rest of his face held zero hint of stubble. When he ran his hand over his hair, it seemed to move of its own accord. Like Knight, his pupils held a flicker of rakkuhr, but Cory’s irises gradually shifted from one rich color to another. Turquoise to amber to violet and more. Mesmerizing.

“I’ve been dying to try this!” Using the tails as support, he stood and got his balance on his one leg, then walked several steps—slowly, cautiously, and bit awkwardly—but most certainly attaining ambulation.

“Nice!” I said in genuine awe. “The basement shower is open if you think you can make it down the steps, or you can wait for Marco to finish up in the bathroom down the hall.” This was surreal as hell, but at least the changes seemed to suit both men.

“I’ll give the stairs a try.” Cory retucked the sheet around his waist then pointed a tail at the laptop. “Someone’s trying to get your attention.”

“Huh?” The camera light was blinking erratically. “Oh. I’ll get our tech to check it out.”

“No. It’s Morse code. It’s repeating ‘Kara’ over and over.”

“What the . . .” I had no reason to doubt Cory, considering his ham radio skills. And there was only one person I knew who could and

would hack into our system—into any system.

“A new pattern started as soon as you looked over,” Cory said then watched it closely until the light stopped blinking. “It says, ‘Thought you would want to see this. Paul.’”

Not only was Paul watching us, he knew Cory was a ham radio operator and would know Morse code. Damn, the kid was scary sharp—as tapped in to electronic “flows” as I was to the arcane ones back when I could get all lordy on the nexus.

The screen went dark, then a single picture appeared. Perhaps from the camera of a laptop, judging by the angle. Paul had eyes everywhere.

I leaned in close to get a better view. Tessa was seated, half-facing the camera. Rhyzkahl stood behind her, hands gripping her shoulders, and expression dark. She looked haggard and worn. Not at all like the Tessa I knew. Her typically wild and curly blond hair was cropped short, and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. In the background, Angus McDunn stood in profile. His expression and raised fist led me to believe he was arguing with someone off camera.

Ten seconds later, the image vanished, and the screen returned to the paused Kadir video. I pushed down the powerful urge to slap duct tape over the camera—mostly because it would be pointless considering how easily he could spy on us through the many security cameras we had around the place.

“What was that all about?” Cory asked.

“Just a jokester friend,” I said lightly. “He probably thought he’d have me stumped with the Morse code. Nothing to worry about.” I gave a little laugh. No need to drag Cory any deeper without reason.

“Lucky I was here.” He smiled, but the shrewd look in his eye reminded me that he’d been a cop for over fifteen years. He wasn’t fooled. “Shower time,” he said then tail-stumped off, balance and coordination improving with every odd step.

As soon as he was gone, Szerain shoved the lid of the laptop closed. “Shit.”

“My sentiments, exactly.”

“You have a plan?”

“Not right now, I don’t. We’ll come up with something after the debrief tomorrow.” I gazed down at the crushed sofa-bed and the puddles of goo, the only remaining evidence of the two pods. “If Tessa needs help, we’ll help her. If she’s an enemy, we’ll capture her. Either way, we need to root her out along with whatever crew she’s hanging with.” I tugged both hands through my hair. “I think Boudreaux may know more about McDunn’s whereabouts than he’s letting on. And maybe this overture from Paul means he’ll be more accessible. But I need to eat and sleep before I can deal with any of it.”

Michael shoved the front door open. “Hey, everyone!” he hollered. “Squig and Fillion were hiding in Jill’s truck. You gotta see!” He dashed off and leaped down the steps.

Jill came down the hall, followed by Ashava. “What’s going on?”

“It seems the missing catlets have been found,” I said then gestured toward the goo-puddles. “And we have two more for dinner. Makonite and Krawkor, formerly known as Marco Knight and Cory Crawford, and who are both currently showering off pod-gook.”

Jill muttered something under her breath then followed Szerain and me outside. Bryce leaned on the porch rail, a big grin plastered on his face. His gaze tracked something in the air. A bird?

Jill moved close to Bryce’s side. “Is that a . . .”

Bryce gave a laugh. “Yes. Yes it is.”

I stared. From high above the driveway, a metallic-silver furball streaked toward a bewildered, tongue-lolling Sammy.

“Fillion!” Michael called. “Be a good kitty.”

The catlet spread big bat wings wide to slow his dive, then spat a weak bolt of arcane energy at Sammy’s tail before climbing again. Sammy yelped but immediately bounded around, barking upward as if wanting more of the game.

“Bryce?” I managed to get out.