Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian 6)

She stared at me. “Why would he be killed, and why would he be dumped here?” Her eyes went to the grotesque form on her lawn.

“Courtesy of J. M. Farouche,” I said, glowering. “He wants his people back. He wants me to know what he’s capable of, and that he knows where the people close to me live.”

“Shit.” She pressed close to Zack as he slid his arm around her. “Now what?”

I gave her a sweet smile “Now you move in with us willingly so that we don’t have to go through the hassle of kidnapping you.”

“Yep. That’s what.” Zack looked down at her, gave her a squeeze.

Jill drew a shaky breath, exhaled forcefully. “All right. All right. I get it.”

I heard sirens in the distance. “Okay, chick, you need to deal with the cops. And best not to mention Farouche.”

“What do I tell them?”

“Easy,” Zack said. “And it’s true, kind of. I couldn’t sleep and called you, we were talking. You heard a noise out front, looked out the window and saw the body. We came over for moral support.”

She eyed him dubiously, then shrugged. “Close enough. Let me at ’em,” she said and headed down the drive toward the street to meet the arriving units.

I stayed put, looked over at Zack. “I had a thought. Because you know she won’t want to stop working, despite how dangerous everything is now.”

Zack folded his arms across his chest, his eyes on me. “What’s your diabolical plan?”

“What if Jill had her own syraza bodyguard?”

Zack regarded me for a long moment. He drew breath and released it slowly. “It is certainly a possibility.”

“I was thinking of either Zimmek or Steeev.” Both syraza dwelt primarily in Mzatal’s realm, and I had a friendship-type relationship with each.

“Neither has spent time on Earth,” Zack noted. “Steeev is better suited. Far older.”

I smiled. “He has a good sense of humor too. I think Jill would like him.”

“Yes,” Zack agreed, his eyes on Jill and the cops. “I think he’d be amenable.”

“I should be able to do it sometime later today.”

“You’ll need to ask Mzatal about it first,” he said. “Let me go be all moral supportive for Jill.” He stepped off the porch and headed for Jill and the two cops.

I stared at his back, mildly unsettled by the instruction to ask Mzatal. Was it to ask his permission to summon the syraza? Or to give the syraza permission to come here? I shook my head. Best to wait and hear what Mzatal had to say before going too far down that path.

When the detective’s car pulled up, I headed that way. Pellini emerged, surveyed the scene. He looked over to me as I approached. “This one weird?”

I dodged the “weird” question. “I’m not here on official business,” I told him. “I came over to give Jill moral support.” I gave him the basic information, but left out our suspicion that Farouche was behind it. Until we had a handle on the Idris situation, I didn’t want anyone else stirring that horne

t’s nest.

It took a few hours for the cops to finish their investigation and clear out. I hung with Jill while she packed and fretted about leaving her house, though she did finally agree that it was for the best, especially with the baby. To my surprise she even called in sick. Hell, it wasn’t every day you could use dead-body-on-the-lawn as an excuse. Zack disappeared for a while, but came back as the last unit pulled away.

Zack and I drove back in his car, and Jill followed behind, having pointed out that she’d eventually need her vehicle for work. As we pulled up to the house, my gaze went first to the two pickup trucks, then to the brand new double-wide mobile home and the workers busy around it, about fifty yards from the house on the east side.

“Um, Zack?” I said, dragging my eyes from the sight to him. “It’s barely eight a.m. You had this ready and waiting, didn’t you.”

He glanced over, smiled innocently. “Did I?”

“Sneaky,” I said chuckling. “Jill will figure it out.”

“What’s wrong with being prepared?” he asked, wide eyed. “It’s not like I’d already moved it here or anything.”