Vengeance of the Demon (Kara Gillian 7)

“I hope that stunt was worth it,” I said with a black scowl, though I kept my voice low.

“He’s marked by Kadir,” Idris replied matching my scowl and volume. “Head to foot. Inside and outside. Even with all potency stripped, he reeks of Kadir’s resonance.” Suspicion darkened his eyes. “I don’t know what he is, but I know he absolutely can’t be trusted.”

The declaration put my back up. “I agree that we don’t know what he is, arcanely,” I said, “But the not trusting him part doesn’t necessarily follow. He said ‘Mr. Sparkly’ came to him in his backyard, which leads me to believe it contains a valve.”

“And I intend to check that out,” Idris said. “However, right now this dude needs to be locked down.”

I counted to five in my head. “Yes, he’s a loose cannon and a potential threat,” I said. “He can stay here until we know more or can train him.”

Outrage flashed across Idris’s face. “Train him? That’s like loading a gun and passing it to the enemy!” He flicked his hand out as if brushing my comment aside. “You don’t know that he’s untrained.” He sneered. “You’re taking his word for it.”

My hand itched to smack the sneer off his face. “I’ve known the guy for a long time,” I countered hotly. “If he’s a mole he’s a damn good one. But, hey,” I continued, loading my voice with sarcasm, “maybe we should kill him to be on the safe side.”

“I didn’t say anything about killing him,” he shot back. “But I do say lock him down in the demon realm until he’s cleared. Neither of us knows what Kadir could pull off through him—even if he’s as innocent as he claims to be.”

“Right, because locking a potential threat down in the demon realm worked out so damn well when you and Mzatal did that to me.” Or had he forgotten that they had, in fact, fucking kidnapped me? And that it nearly ended in disaster when I escaped? “Sure, send him to the demon realm where he can be closer to Kadir. Great idea!”

A vein pulsed near his temple. “Yes, closer to Kadir, but away from people and places on Earth!” Tension held his shoulders stiff as he took a step toward me. “You don’t seem to get it. Kadir set him up to use him here.”

Lifting my chin, I held my ground and matched his anger with my own. “And Rhyzkahl set me up to use me,” I replied in a snarl. “You remember how close Mzatal came to killing me because of that?”

“I remember,” he said. “I also remember that, against all odds, he rescued you after he spared your life and you ran to Rhyzkahl.” His eyes went stone cold. “If he hadn’t pulled you from that ritual, the Mraztur would have turned you into Rowan, and everything would be fucked.”

I could only stare at him, gut punched by shock. “You . . . you think it would’ve been wiser for him to kill me?” I managed to reply, literally trembling. “You who were under the influence of the Mraztur for months?”

“I’ve been cleared,” he snapped. “And I didn’t say he should’ve killed you. I just want you to get what we’re dealing with and the potential damage that could come from the wrong decision.”

“I do get it, Idris,” and I managed to not add you condescending fuck to that. “Trust me, every time I look in the mirror and see the scars, I get it. But even so, I think it’s really shortsighted to lock up everyone we don’t understand or who might pose a threat. If you want to make more enemies, that’s the way to do it!”

> “This is not simply someone we don’t understand!” He flung his arm in a harsh gesture toward Pellini. “Kadir has imprinted him. Kadir. One of the goddamn Mraztur.”

My eyes felt hot and gritty. “Your solution is to lock him down indefinitely all because he played in the wrong goddamn patch of sand when he was a kid.”

“Until he’s cleared,” Idris corrected, but I saw in his eyes that he knew it might not be possible to clear Kadir’s influence from Pellini—and wasn’t swayed by it. “And if his sandbox story is true,” he went on, “then no, it’s not his fault, and that sucks, but we can’t let a time bomb loose out of pity.”

“It’s not pity, it’s compassion,” I snapped. Learn it, asshole, I added silently. “Maybe we can gain an ally instead of guaranteeing we end up with an enemy.”

Bryce stalked over and pierced us both with a glare. “Pellini has more fucking sense than both of you put together,” he said, voice scathing.

“Excuse me?” I asked then realized with chagrin that Idris and I hadn’t kept our voices low. Crap. Pellini heard all of that.

“He gets that he’s between a rock and a hard place.” Bryce’s glare didn’t let up one bit. “He also gets that the entire situation is dangerous and he’s a danger.” He snorted. “He was smart enough to figure we weren’t going to let him leave. All he’s worried about is his dog alone at his house. You two hot shots need to come to a compromise between damnation and ‘Fly! Be free!’”

Fuck. It was a sad day when Pellini was the reasonable one. Idris looked similarly chastened by the dressing down.

“Maybe . . . locked down here, unless he’s with one of us?” I offered.

Idris visibly fought down his resistance to the elimination of the demon realm option, and I was pretty sure he pygahed. Twice. Maybe three times. “Locked down here?” he finally said. “How?”

“He moves in here,” I suggested and prayed that Idris’s receptive mood would continue. “If possible he takes a leave of absence from work, and we would reassess as needed.”

What followed then were negotiations that rivaled the Louisiana Purchase. With Bryce’s not-always-gentle guidance we managed to reach a compromise that kept Pellini from being summarily deported to the demon realm while also keeping him from roaming free. Idris wasn’t happy with it, and I hated screwing Pellini over like this, but it was the best possible compromise in a horrible situation.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I said to Pellini after everything was decided. “Is there anything you need right now?”

“Another hamburger,” Pellini grumbled. “The demon ate mine.”

Chapter 13