Secrets of the Demon (Kara Gillian 3)

The gooseflesh continued its track down my spine and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. In exchange for Rhyzkahl’s aid in defeating a soul-devouring threat, I’d sworn an oath to summon him to this sphere at least once a month. “Are there some who envy it?”

“There are some who would seek to remove Lord Rhyzkahl’s advantage.”

Okay, now I was getting freaked out. “Remove how?” It came out in more of a squeak than I’d intended.

It shifted again, black wings rustling like roaches skittering across a stone floor. “I do not know what means would be employed. I merely know that there has been . . . discussion.”

Great. I’m the hot topic of conversation in the demon realm. I took a deep breath to settle the cold tightness in my stomach. “And you think I could use protection.”

The demon turned its head to look off to my right. I followed its gaze and saw Zack standing silently about a dozen feet away from me, expression troubled.

Skalz turned its lava-red eyes back to me. “Yes. I would be willing to negotiate terms to serve as your guardian.” Demons never did anything for free—not even submitting to being summoned. The offerings could vary widely depending on the demon and the task, but there was always a price to be paid.

“I’ll have to think about it,” I said. I’d definitely be thinking. And worrying. And fretting.

It lowered its head and I took a deep breath to begin the dismissal chant. At this point I didn’t give a shit if anyone saw us or not. I simply wanted to dismiss the demon and get back to Beaulac. A sharp wind rose as I pulled potency to open the portal, swirling the musty stench of the river around me along with an acrid odor of sulfur. A thin slit of light formed behind Skalz, widening to perfectly silhouette the demon. Barely half a heartbeat later, a ripping crack echoed across the water and both the light and the demon were gone.

I bent over and put my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths until the brief spate of dizziness passed. Dismissals were a hundred times easier than summonings, but they still took effort. I felt a gentle hand on my back and I straightened to see Zack looking at me with worry.>Crap. “A few more minutes, Skalz. My apologies.”

“I am in no rush, summoner,” the demon replied, voice crackling deeply. I couldn’t decide whether I preferred the mental voice or the spoken one. Both were incredibly unnerving. “I would discuss further matters with you before you return me to my sphere.” With that the demon slid back into the shadow and closed its eyes, disappearing completely into the blackness.

I couldn’t help but grimace. It never seemed to bode well when a demon had “matters” to discuss with me.

“Lida!” the keyboardist gasped, his face tear-streaked and contorted in anguish. Lida pulled away from Zack and nearly threw herself at the young man, but I realized she wasn’t seeking her own comfort.

“It’s okay, Michael,” she said, holding him close. “I’m all right. See? I’m just wet.” I gave Zack a questioning look and he silently mouthed her brother. Ah. Now his demeanor made a lot more sense.

“I . . . I should have done something—” Michael said, nearly hiccupping from his distress.

“Shh, no. Don’t think like that.” Lida spoke softly, reassurance thick in her voice as she tipped her head up to give her brother a comforting smile. She took him by the hand and led him to the bench, pushing him down to sit and then wrapping her arms around him again and pulling his head to her shoulder. “I’m all right.”

He seemed to calm as she held him and finally took a deep shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing you could have done,” Lida said, then gestured toward Zack and me. “The cops did their job and protected me. You were playing your music. Everyone did what they’re best at.” She smiled at him and he lifted his head to return the smile, expression open and painfully innocent. He looked slightly older than Lida, but it was clear that she was his protector.

Zack stepped back and then glanced to me as I approached. “Did you finish?” he murmured when I reached him.

I shook my head. “No, but it’s not like anyone can see it.”

“I tried to get Michael to stay at the club,” the bass player was saying to Lida, apology in his eyes. “But he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“It’s all right, Trey,” she said, sparing him a glance and a shaky smile. “I can’t imagine any way you could have made him stay other than sitting on him.”

Michael made a snorting sound. “I’m too big for him to sit on.”

I had to silently agree with that. Michael was tall and thick, while Trey was lanky and lean.

Lida grinned at him. “Maybe Roger could have.” She glanced up at Zack. “Roger’s the drummer—total muscle-head,” she explained. “Personal trainer, competes in local bodybuilding—”

“I’m too big for Roger too,” Michael said with what looked almost like a pout. “I’m strong!”

“Of course, Michael,” Lida said tiredly, patting his shoulder as if he was a child.

I sent another questioning glance to Zack, but this time he simply mouthed later, confirming my suspicion that Michael was somehow more challenged than most.

Her manager huffed up to us at that point, looking as if he was about to have the coronary I’d predicted earlier for myself. Adam Taylor’s face was flushed and the front of his tailored white shirt was plastered to his torso with sweat, even though there was a touch of early October chill in the air. I had the feeling that he’d run those nine block as fast as he was able.

Before meeting him I’d expected her manager to be a weasely man with oily hair, perhaps with a weak chin and dark beady eyes. Instead, he was actually fairly good looking, and anything but oily and weasely. He was probably in his early fifties, a few inches taller than me, with ginger hair touched with gray at the temples—giving him that perfect “distinguished” look. He still didn’t come anywhere close to touching the demonic lord Rhyzkahl in the looks department, but then again, there probably weren’t any humans who could.