Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

“Can you read them? Do they know what’s happened?”

“With the human-demon mix, I can only get impressions. But they seem to be aware of the circumstances.”

I fidgeted, ridiculously nervous about the outcome.

Knight’s pod shimmered then dissolved into a cloud of mist with a sound like a thousand tiny bells. He lay naked, curled in a fetal position, and covered with a thin layer of clear mucus stuff. Nothing about him seemed different from before, except for a very un-Knight-like tranquil smile.

“Marco?” I said as Szerain ducked out of the room.

“Yeah, Kara?” he replied, voice not at all muffled by the mucus.

“You . . . okay?”

“I think I just might be.”

Szerain returned with a couple of sheets and a stack of towels. I breathed a thanks then grabbed a sheet and draped it over Knight. He pushed up to sit then scrubbed the gunk off his face with a towel. His irises were a shimmery amber color ringed with gold, and a hint of rakkuhr flickered deep in the pupils. But other than the unearthly and compelling eyes, he looked normal. Unchanged.

He lowered the towel, stunned surprise on his face. “I can’t see anything,” he breathed.

Sick dread flooded me. “You’re blind?” I waved my hand in front of his eyes.

Grinning, he batted my hand away. “Not like that. I don’t see . . . stuff.”

Comprehension kicked in. He wasn’t getting unwanted peeks into other people’s lives anymore. He was finally free of that burden. “Dude, that’s awesome!”

“The sight isn’t gone,” he said. “In fact, it’s probably better than before. But I have an on-off switch for it now.” He let out a long, relaxed sigh. “And I don’t ever have to turn it on.”

After the loner life he’d led because of his ability, it wouldn’t surprise me if he never activated it again. I had no idea what the demons got out of the process, which worried me, but so far Knight seemed to be okay.

“Your eye color is a little odd,” I told him. “I mean, it’s really cool and all, but you’ll need to wear colored contacts at work if you want to keep this to yourself.”

He gave a genuine laugh. “Are you kidding? I’ve been the freak of the NOPD for no reason anyone could nail down. This would be a cake walk.” He pulled at the gunk stuck in his hair. “But you’re right. Best to play it cool.”

“Good plan.” I grinned. “You hungry?”

“Starving. But I could really use a shower first, if you don’t mind.”

I sent him off with a promise of a loaner t-shirt and fatigue pants, unspeakably relieved that he’d emerged oriented and accepting and calm.

As soon as he left, Cory’s pod vibrated.

“He was waiting,” Szerain said.

“I suppose I can understand wanting a little privacy for unpodding,” I said with a shaky laugh. Marco had come through all right, but . . . yeah. Demons. Pods. Mutations. I grabbed a sheet.

The sphere dispersed to mist, but I stood gaping rather than draping. Like Knight, Cory lay in a fetal position, but unlike Knight, he was definitely . . . different.

No way would we be hiding this with a pair of contacts. Though Cory remained quite human-shaped, and his right leg still ended mid-thigh, the skin of his shoulders and upper arms was alive with slowly shifting colors, rich and bright like impossibly flawless tattooing. His hair hung to his shoulders in perfect waves, with each strand a vibrant hue—hysterically ironic considering that the man had always avoided anything brighter than brown.

But the clincher was the trio of tails that curled around him. Bright and furry tails as thick as Ashava’s wrist and who-the-hell-knew how long.

Cory shifted, tails moving with sinuous grace to help him push up to a sit. I snapped out of my shock and thrust the sheet around him.

“Welcome back!” I grabbed a towel and held it out.

He took it with a smile and wiped off his face. “Glad to be back,” he said. A bright blue tail snaked out to better arrange the sheet over his privates. Cory cocked his head at the tail and laughed. “Ain’t that some shit?”

“Um. Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”