Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian 6)

Shit. Shit! Ice formed in my gut. That was the first night I’d summoned Rhyzkahl—completely by accident. I’d been trying to summon a luhrek named Rysehl, and the demonic lord had hijacked my summoning to escape the Symbol Man’s attempt to summon and bind him. He’d seduced me that night and had apparently then gone straight to Farouche when he was done.

“That fucker. That . . . fucker.” My nails cut into the palms of my hands as I clenched my fists. “How many times? Was it always late at night?”

“I saw him six, maybe seven times,” Bryce told me. “He’d always arrive late, and usually stay until around noon the next day, sometimes a little later.”

Stupid stupid stupid! I railed at myself. Of course he wouldn’t waste all of that lovely access to Earth I so generously gave him. But how? How did he get from my house to Farouche? Every time he left me, he disappeared—I assumed to return to the demon realm. Sick anger spread through my chest and gut. Easy enough to manipulate me to believe that’s what happened, I realized. Manipulate me, stroll outside, and call a syraza to him to give him a lift.

“Oh god,” Bryce breathed. I jerked my attention to him to see a look of deep dismay on his face.

“What?” I managed to ask.

Bryce drew in a ragged breath. “That’s where the abductees must’ve gone, to the demon realm. I don’t know whether that’s good or bad, but I don’t feel very good about it.”

I moved around the table, eyes on him. “Abductees?”

“Farouche acquired people for him,” he told me, voice pained. “Mostly women. Mega-Fabio would take one or two back with him every time he visited. Sonny was the pickup man and handler for all of them, except for one. Not a woman. A StarFire inner circle guy who’d pissed off Farouche and was already in his custody.” He gripped the back of a chair. “God almighty, Sonny hates those assignments.”

My mind raced, and I forced myself to think past the horror of human trafficking. Sonny. Maybe he was the key. Of all the people Bryce and Paul had left behind, Sonny was the one they truly missed and worried about. And he’s still on the inside.

“You consider Sonny to be a decent guy, don’t you?” I asked.

Bryce exhaled. “Sonny hates what he does, but he does it. Then again, with jobs for Farouche, we all do—did—them. Some get off on it, some consider it nothing more than a job and get plenty of sleep at night, and some get ulcers.” He tugged fingers through his hair. “He’s done a few hits, but only as the second man. He’s lead for . . .” He hesitated, then sighed before continuing. “He’s often lead for pickups—abductions—because he can really keep people calm. That talent we talked about. But despite all that, yeah, he’s a decent guy.”

Murder, kidnapping, and who knew what else. Farouche was definitely a Grade-A piece of shit. But a few days ago Paul had tapped into a conversation between Sonny and his estranged sister, and discovered that Bryce’s disappearance had shaken up Sonny’s world. That sounded like a man desperate for a change. “Do you think he’d be a mole for us and help get Idris’s mom out?”

Bryce began to shake his head, then stopped and frowned. “I was about to say no way in hell—not with Farouche’s influence. But it’s Sonny. I don’t think he would’ve made it if I hadn’t pretty much held him together for the past twelve years. He has a soft streak that’s perfect for,” he grimaced, “his specialty, abduction, so Farouche tolerated him.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, expression thoughtful. “I guess it’s possible,” he finally admitted.

“I know you want to get him out of there,” I said. “Let’s see if he can help us help him. This could be a parting shot.”

“I do want to get him out,” Bryce said slowly. “But I don’t want him to get fucked up in the process, y’know?”

“I understand,” I said, “and we’ll do our damndest to keep it safe for him. But if we don’t help him, he’ll never get out.”

“You’re right,” Bryce said, voice hollow, then sighed and straightened his shoulders. “Here’s the deal. Making that call to his sister was out of bounds. Against Mr. Farouche’s rules. That tells me he’s desperate, and somehow managing to push through the fear. That’s the only reason I think there’s a chance he won’t run straight to Farouche if we contact him.”

“Maybe it has something to do with his talent,” I suggested. “Perhaps the super-calm somehow helps him override the fear?”

Bryce stared at me. “Y’know, that could be it. He’s never been pushed like this without me there.” He nodded. “We’ll need to feel him out. A text from Paul.”

“Right, and if we like what we get, we set up a meeting. I’ll trust your judgment on how to proceed with that.”

“He should be able to receive a message and avoid trouble,” Bryce mused, clearly warming to the plan. “And if we’re right about his state of mind, I don’t think he’d go straight to the boss.”

“It’s possible he might set us up,” I said, “but we’ll be able to sniff out a trap.” I considered the various aspects, then nodded. “If he agrees to meet with us, we grab him and Mzatal will clear Farouche’s influence from him. If he then agrees to be a mole, that’s awesome for us, but even if he doesn’t, he’ll be free.”

“Oh, god,” Bryce said, voice thick. “It’d be wonderful to get him the hell away from there.” Years of pain and doubt swam in his eyes.

I ached for him. He’d saved Sonny’s life, and then had to carry the heavy guilt of what Sonny became. “Let’s get Paul to text him and go from there.”

We found Paul yawning on his futon, and quickly filled him in on our desire to get Sonny away from Farouche and use him as a mole, if he was willing.

Paul’s face brightened instantly. “Awesome! What’s the plan?”

“Let’s start with a simple text that says ‘Hey’ and see what we get back,” I suggested.

Paul tapped at his tablet. “There, sent.” About twenty seconds later, he grinned. “He texted back ‘You OK? Bryce?’”

I smiled. It was a good start. “Um, tell him you’re b