Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian 6)

“Boss.” I squared my shoulders and shoved aside the gnawing worry. “It’s my choice to go do this. Idris is my family.” Whether by blood or not, the truth of it remained. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t even try. You can reinforce the containment, right?”

He exhaled. “I can.” His thumb stroked across my cheek. “And now I have.”

I smiled, took his hand and laid a kiss in his palm. “Then we’re all good. As soon as we have Idris, we’ll take our asses back to the demon realm, and you and Elofir can fix this shit right up.”

“So we shall.” He kissed me, eyes remaining warm on mine for a moment more. Finally, he gave a nod to Eilahn, then turned and strode to the mini-nexus, hands clasped behind his back.

I returned to my bedroom with Eilahn and allowed her to fuss over my wig and makeup one more time, and after a few minutes she nodded, satisfied. “It is time to depart,” she said and took my hands. “Is there aught else you require?”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Can’t think of a thing.”

“I will never be far from you,” she stated with such fierce loyalty that I felt tears come to my eyes. “Dahn!” She pulled her hands from mine and snatched a tissue from a box on the dresser to dab at my eyes. “You will smear your cosmetics if you weep!” She wore such a look of asperity on her face that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, okay! I won’t mess up the makeup.”

Eilahn finished dabbing, stepped back and eyed me critically before giving me a satisfied nod. “Kara Gillian, you will indeed kick all the ass.”

“Damn straight,” I said fervently. “I was taught by the best.”

• • •

This is not ass-kicking. This is hell.

“Who the hell knew telecommunications analysts could be so rowdy?” I muttered as I narrowly dodged a slosh of wine from the giggling woman beside me. I edged away from her, turned down yet another slurred offer that I assumed was sexual in nature, and finally found a place to put my back against the wall. I’d been “mingling” in the crowded bar area for the past thirty minutes while I waited for everyone to get into position, and had fended off more passes in that time than I’d received in my entire life. I was damn near ready to trace an aversion ward on my ass.

“It’s considered one of the most boring jobs to have, Kara,” Paul told me in an amused voice through the tiny receiver tucked into my ear. “Can you blame them for letting loose when they have the chance?”

“Yeah, well, the guy whose hand ‘let loose’ up my skirt is sporting some cracked metatarsals now,” I said. My stomp reaction had been swift and instinctive, and I’d slipped away through the press of the crowd while the assailant whined in pain. He probably never even realized the sweet blond thing had a bite. Okay, maybe there was a little ass-kicking.

Luckily I didn’t have to worry about breaking character until I got outside. Nobody in here would ever think I was pretending to be Amaryllis Castlebrook—if any of them even knew her in the first place. To them I was simply another partying teleco-whatever on the first night of what was probably a deathly dull training seminar.

“Serves the jerk right, Kara,” Paul said, then added, “It’s the dress. Even I think you look smokin’ hot. And you look really good with blond hair.”

I hid a grin and pretended to take a sip of my drink. Paul was right—the dress rocked, even if I did have to pad the curves a bit. “Maybe I’ll try blond highlights once all this is done,” I said, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone, since I’d learned it was interpreted as an invitation to come annoy me. “I’m ready to ditch the wig, though. It itches. And I think one of the bobby pins has worked its way through my skull.”

Paul chuckled. “I’ll get you a purple heart, Kara.”

“Hey, Paul? What’s with the sudden obsession with my name?”

He cleared his throat. “Orders from above,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Eilahn and Zack and Mzatal want me to keep, er, reminding you who you are.”

A warm fuzzy glow started somewhere in my middle, and I felt a silly grin spread across my face. “Y’all are so fucking awesome it’s stupid.”

“It’s a posse thing, Kara,” he said with a laugh. I heard some soft beeps in the background, and when he spoke again he was all business. “Got the ping from Ryan. Amaryllis is safe and away, and all’s clear.” Earlier the two FBI agents had gently scooped up Ms. Castlebrook as she stepped out of her hotel room, leaving me to be her doppelganger at the cocktail party.

“And now I have Sonny’s signal,” he continued. “He’s on the corner half a block down, waiting for you.” He paused. “Good luck, Kara.”

“Thanks, Paul,” I murmured. I glanced at my watch. Nine p.m. Amaryllis was going to make an early night of it. “Here goes everything.” I set my drink on a side table and slipped through the crowd to the door, my little Keltec a comforting weight in the thigh holster. Having Paul in my ear was another major comfort. He was coordinating the entire operation from his tablet for portability, and he’d rigged up everyone with nifty communicators like mine. All except for Mzatal, since he received annoying bursts of static any time he manipulated potency. The plan was for Paul to stay pretty much glued to Mzatal’s side for this thing, so it hopefully wouldn’t make any difference that the Boss wasn’t wired up.

Exiting the restaurant, I faked a slight stumble on the bottom step as if I was a little intoxicated—after first making sure no one nearby was looking my way. Last thing I wanted was for someone to offer to walk me back to the hotel, either out of kindness or with more insidious intent in mind. Either way, they’d no doubt end up hurt. My performance was for the two men waiting down the street. They were watching, I knew, even if I couldn’t see them yet.

The hotel was around the corner and half a block down. I looped my purse over my shoulder, headed down the sidewalk, and did my best to act relaxed and oblivious.

“Sonny’s ahead and to your right, Kara,” Paul told me, no doubt watching my progress through hacked security and traffic cameras in addition to monitoring my location via my GPS trackers.

“Got it,” I murmured. I stepped off the curb to cross a well-lit corner parking lot, bordered by manicured bushes and colorful flower beds. Just the sort of place a naïve girl would let her guard down. Moreover, it made perfect sense for a woman wearing heels to cut through the lot. Sonny sure as hell knew his business.

Sonny, appearing utterly harmless and seeming to pay absolutely no attention to me, stood near the exit to the street, looking at nothing in particular as he spoke on his phone. As I made my way across the mostly empty lot, I noted his approach in my peripheral vision, but only because I was totally expecting it.