Vengeance of the Demon (Kara Gillian 7)

“That’s right,” Idris said, leaning forward. “And it means Katashi has neutral-to-favorable connections with every summoner in the world.” He stabbed a finger toward me. “Except you,” he jerked his thumb at himself, “and me.”

Conversa

tion died as the weight of what we faced settled over us. The sharp tang of gun oil wound through the room as we bent over our weapons and attended to issues that were easily dealt with. A spot of corrosion. A buildup of carbon.

Pellini reassembled and wiped down his gun, then rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, brows knitted in a frown. “There might be an advantage in this for us,” he said. “Katashi’s been the unopposed head honcho for all these years. If everyone has always been on his side, then he’s not used to being a target. He might not be at the top of the game when it comes to defense.”

Idris gave a reluctant nod. “He’s near untouchable when he knows trouble is imminent but, yeah, constant vigilance isn’t his specialty.”

Bryce slipped the pieces of the Sig back together, loaded it, chambered a round and holstered it. “If McDunn and Carter have a say in his security, he’ll be less vulnerable than before.”

Pellini shifted, uneasy. “Are we talking capturing or killing here?”

“Killing,” Idris said, even as I said, “Capturing.”

Idris leveled a defiant look at me. “Killing is a helluva lot less risky. There’s no advantage to capturing him.”

“Less risky?” I scoffed. “Maybe in the short term, but killing packs a mighty punch when it comes to consequences.” And didn’t I know it. “Look, Katashi is the eyes, ears, and hands of the Mraztur on Earth. I doubt any of them have a clue about his day-to-day operation.” Idris looked poised to interrupt, but I kept going. “You said that his people don’t know his plans and methods. If we kill him, and his flunkies don’t know what to do next with the valves, the Mraztur are screwed.” I narrowed my eyes. “But so are we, since we don’t know what he’s put in motion with the valve project.”

“Capture him, and nothing changes other than the risk,” Idris shot back. “He’s not going to volunteer the info, and the lords can’t read him.”

I shook my head. “Mzatal believes that three lords working together can read Katashi.” Sighing, I tugged a hand through my hair. “And, if they can’t, then they can take care of him as they see fit.”

Idris folded his arms and slouched back. “Okay. Fine.” It wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but I’d take it.

Bryce cleared his throat. “With capture on the agenda, I propose surveillance as a first step. Get a feel for their movement. We don’t have the manpower for a stakeout, but we can monitor the gate with a camera.”

“It’s a solid starting point,” I agreed.

“Idris and I can buy one of those weatherproof mini video cameras,” Bryce said. “We’ll get that set up tonight.”

Idris stood and yanked the messenger bag across his chest. “I’ll be by the car,” he growled and stalked out.

Bryce watched him go, exhaled. “I’ll deal with him. He wants Katashi’s blood, but he sees the bigger picture.”

“Thanks, Bryce,” I said. “You rock.”

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“You need to leave before your head is too big to fit through the door.”

Bryce laughed. “It’ll be wee hours before we get back. Don’t wait up.”

I stretched and felt things pop and creak in my spine. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” I said. “Be careful.”

“The epitome of caution,” he said and exited.

Pellini rubbed his face with both hands. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“Deep shit.” I gave him a wry smile. “But we won’t let you drown.”

Chapter 20

In a spontaneous act of self-motivation, I donned workout gear immediately upon waking the next morning, determined to tackle the obstacle course for the first time since my return.

Humidity smacked me in the face the instant I stepped out the back door, a reminder of why I’d decided fitness could take a brief holiday. Ugh. Right. Summer in south Louisiana. I sighed and stepped off the porch. It would be the height of wimpiness to bail out, now that I was dressed, ready, and outside. So what if it felt as if I sucked air through a towel from the floor of a sauna. I was tough. I was fierce. I was already sweating my ass off and hadn’t even started to run yet.

Armed with that attitude, I managed to shamble through the damn thing, though I suspected that the guys had increased the height on the walls and made the entire course at least half again as long as it used to be. With no grace whatsoever, I clambered over the final wall then staggered into deep shade by the edge of the woods. Drenched in sweat, I flopped onto my back and tried to remember how to breathe like a human.