Sins of the Demon

sitting in the shed out behind the house waiting to be assembled and painted. Being thrown into those would have sucked the big one. Who the hell was I trying to be picturesque for anyway? No one ever came to my house, and that was usually more than fine with me.

“You have no idea how much it kills me to admit this,” I said, “but, yeah. That whole tuck and roll crap paid off.” Oh, the joy of being thrown to the ground by a demon. Over and over and over.

The demon chuckled low in her throat. “Your praise brings me great joy.” Then she suddenly turned with a cry of dismay and scooped the cat up from the steps. As I watched, she cradled it to her chest, murmuring in an unfamiliar language, though I was pretty sure she was saying the demon equivalent of, “Oh, my poor widdle fuzzywuzzykins! Were you scared by that silly flying lady? You poor baby. Mommy will protect you and make it all better! Oh yes, she will!”

After a few seconds of reassurance she set the cat down, then turned to gaze down the driveway, a mixture of unease and anger in her expression. “The danger to you grows. Yet I am not convinced this attempt is connected to the attack from earlier this morning.”

“It’s fucked up, no matter what,” I said, leaning back against my house. This was the fourth time I’d barely escaped being summoned. Two weeks ago I’d been walking to my car after getting groceries when I’d felt that blast of icy wind. Eilahn had appeared out of nowhere, tossed me into the backseat of my car, and taken off like a bat out of hell—leaving behind a grocery cart filled with a week’s worth of food. “Am I wrong, or does it seem like whoever’s doing this is getting better at it? I used to be able to just run away from it. This one felt like it was right on top of me no matter what.”

She turned to me, worry darkening her eyes. “You are not wrong. With each attempt they refine the summoning. I do not think it will be possible to simply run from them anymore. It would not have worked this time, save that I was able to quickly get you within strong wards. Soon it will take only seconds to lock onto you and bring you through.”

The words were like a punch in the gut. “So, basically, if I step outside the safety of wards, I risk being summoned?” I heard the anger in my voice, and I hoped she knew it wasn’t directed at her.

Eilahn shook her head. “No, they will not be able to attempt another summoning for a while. It is not a constant threat.”

“Define ‘a while.’”

“A dozen hours at least.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay, that’s not the cheery news it could have been. I was really hoping for several days at the very minimum. Or years.”

Eilahn’s expression remained grave. “I truly wish I had more encouraging news for you. But it is not a completely hopeless situation. The house is warded, and I will complete the warding on your place of work tonight.” She reached down and helped me to my feet. I was glad of the assistance as I discovered all the places that were going to have impressive bruises by tomorrow. “There are also other…options,” she said.

“Such as?”

She released me as soon as she was certain I wasn’t going to topple right back over. “There may be certain physical artifacts that can aid in shielding you. Plus, you can continue to work on the mental exercises I showed you.”

I made a face as I hobbled my way inside and down the hall to the kitchen. “Those are more unpleasant than your lessons in falling.” Eilahn had been trying to teach me a way to turn my othersight inward in order to cloak my arcane signature, but all I’d managed to do so far was give myself spectacular headaches. It was like the “imagine a white wall” trick to the nth degree, and I had a feeling it was something that came far more easily to demon minds than my own.

“I will attempt to locate an artifact,” Eilahn said. “But the best hope is that Lord Rhyzkahl will be able to determine who is seeking to interfere.”

Interfere. That was a nice way of putting it. Someone in the demon realm was attempting to summon me—bring me through in the same way that I was able to summon the creatures native to that world. The scary part—for me at least—was that if I were to be successfully summoned, the summoner would most assuredly be powerful enough to bind me to his will, make me a slave. If I wasn’t simply killed outright, that is.

I really had no idea whether the ultimate goal was to kill me or not. And why did the graa attack me? What was its goal?

I sank into a chair at the kitchen table and clasped my hands together in my lap to hide the fact that they were shaking slightly. Not sure why I was bothering, since the syraza was definitely perceptive enough to see how off-kilter I was. She placed a mug of coffee in front of me, confirming my suspicion that she was well aware of my mental state. I gave her a weak smile of thanks and wrapped my hands around the mug, exhaling in relief as I took a sip of the most wonderful substance known to mankind. No wonder I hadn’t been able to run faster. I’d been practically uncaffeinated. I shouldn’t be expected to function on only one cup of coffee.

“I hate this,” I confessed. Eilahn tilted her head and frowned. “Not the coffee,” I quickly amended. “It’s perfect. I hate this whole stress and worry and always waiting for some sort of attack. I mean, I know I’m not the toughest chick on the planet, and I’m not some sort of supercop…but I am a cop, and I’ve survived a lot of shit, and I really fucking hate this constant nagging fear that I have going on.” I scowled down into my coffee. “It sucks, and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.”

“You are due to summon Lord Rhyzkahl within the next week,” she replied quietly. “I suggest you do so tonight, since the moon is full. He needs to know about this latest attempt.”

My scowl deepened. “Yeah, well I hate that too—the whole waiting-to-be-rescued crap. I’m not some weak- kneed damsel in distress.”

Eilahn gave a low laugh. “No one who knows you would ever accuse you of being weak in any way.” She stood and turned to the counter while I blinked in surprise at the compliment. “But I do understand your sentiment and why it chafes.” She shot me a glance over her shoulder. “Perhaps some comfort food is in order. I can make a late breakfast if you wish.”

I grinned despite my mood. “You’ve only been with me for a month and a half, and you already know me way too well. I could definitely do with some comfort food right about now.”

The sound of gravel crunching under tires pulled my attention. Reaching out mentally to the wards, I couldn’t sense a direct threat, but someone was definitely attempting to come down the driveway and failing. I glanced at Eilahn. She seemed studiously unconcerned which gave me a pretty good idea of who was attempting to get near the house.

Pushing up from the table, I winced at how much I’d managed to stiffen up in such a short time. I hobbled down the hall and grabbed my coat, pulling open the door to see a dark blue Crown Victoria backing up. I closed the door behind me and watched as it backed up to the first curve, then stopped and came forward again. At about fifty feet from the house the car stopped again and began to back up. Laughing, I made my way down the steps and waved my arms to get the attention of the driver. A second later the car stopped again and Special Agent Ryan Kristoff stepped out, sweeping an annoyed and frustrated glare over the house and the environs.

He didn’t look any different. He still carried himself like a federal agent. His hair was perhaps a bit shorter than normal, in a brush cut that couldn’t quite hide the fact that it tended to curl when it got longer. He had on his usual casual attire of khaki pants and oxford shirt, and the black pea coat he wore over them couldn’t hide the broad shoulders that tapered down to a slim and muscled waistline. But I knew he was different. At least, different from what I’d assumed him to be for so long. It felt odd that he looked the same as always.

A sharp and icy breeze dove down my collar, and I quickly zipped my coat up.

“What the hell have you done to your house?” Ryan demanded.

I stared at him then burst out laughing. This, at least, was the same old Ryan. Moody, mercurial, and charming. “Having some trouble?”

He glowered at me, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t get to your damn house! Did you do something to the wards? I have this overpowering urge to go run some errands first.” He peered at the house, and I had a feeling he was using his own othersight to check out the protections. Ryan had the ability to see and sense arcane power, though as far as he was aware he simply had limited skills that he’d inherited from his