Demon Song

“Omagawd! You’re kidding!” She howled with laughter and I finally got to smile about it. “Oh, the poor thing. She must have been frantic. Is it all sorted out now?”

“Not by half, unfortunately. Fingers crossed, though.” I held up my hand to show Dawna that I’d done just that. I didn’t want to go into detail in case we hadn’t gotten all the bugs out of the office. “Hey, you want to get out of here for the night? I really need someone to bounce some ideas off and I’m still a little nervous after Justin’s visit.”

A little snort escaped her. “You and everybody else. Ron wants to bring in someone for a second opinion. He’s threatening to move out if the owner can’t guarantee him some client confidentiality. Hard to blame him, y’know?”

I sighed. “Terrific. You know who the owner is, right?”

She furrowed her brow and cocked her head, sending dark hair spilling out of her tasteful bun to land on her shoulder. “C and S Corp. Do you know the contact there?”

I pointed a thumb at my chest. “Moi. C and S was Vicki, and I’m the new owner once the probate goes through. Haven’t you received your letter from the attorney yet?”

“You’re kidding! She left you a building? Wow. Yeah, I got a letter saying that Vick had left me something but that it was being held up in the lawsuit her mom filed. I figured it was a few bucks. I hope it’s enough to pay off my credit cards.”

I smiled. It really had been a while since Dawna and I had had a normal conversation. “It probably won’t pay off your cards, but it’ll free up your rent money.” At her questioning look, I patted her hand. “She owned your building, too. That’s your inheritance. In a year or so, you’ll own an apartment building and will get all the headaches thereof. Just like me.”

Her jaw was open so far a bird could have flown in without pulling in its wings. When she finally recovered, I’d nearly finished the shake. “There’s like forty apartments in my building! How the hell am I going to take care of them all?”

“Join the club. At least Ron’s not one of your tenants.”

She rested her elbows on the desk and dropped her chin onto her hands just as the lights flashed twice and the temperature dropped enough that I could see my breath. I looked up at the sparkling formation near the ceiling. “Hey, Vick. Glad you’re feeling better. Thanks for your help last night. Kevin’s okay.” I waggled my hand. “Mostly.”

No prob. S’up? The words appeared on the front window in frost.

“I need to find his Vaso. He’s in pretty bad shape. Needs to drain his energy. Any ideas?”

Nooo. But … I waited while she thought and then watched as white cursive letters appeared while the glass snapped and popped from the sudden temperature shift: Work, sleep, eat. All he did.

“True that,” Dawna added with a nod. She’d noticed her undone hair and was putting it back into the bun by stabbing it repeatedly with the ornate chopsticks she used as hair ornaments. “We had to drag him out of the computer lab when we went out somewhere. Half of the time he wouldn’t come because someone on campus had a broken computer. His Vaso must be someone he knew at school. He never went anywhere else.”

“Makes sense to me. But it was a big university. Could be any of a hundred people.”

No. Day or night? The words were hurried, like the ghost had an idea.

I knew so little about Vasos. I pointed to the computer screen. “Bring up the Internet. See if there’s a time of day that a werewolf has to drain his energy. I’ll bet Vicki’s right. She usually is.”

A few clicks later I was reading over Dawna’s shoulder, feeling a chill on my neck as my dead best friend did the same thing. “Ooh, look at this. The best time is right before bed. But Kevin never went to bed until late. What’s open on campus at night?”

“Infirmary,” Dawna offered.

Security appeared on the window.

But I was the one who got it and we all knew it the minute I wrote the word on the pad on Dawna’s desk. Library. I wrote it to protect her identity from anyone listening or watching, just as Kevin had asked. The university library was open until midnight every day except Sunday.

The Vaso could be only one person. Anna, the metaphysics section librarian, had worked at the college for more than a decade. She was a smart, powerful witch who I didn’t doubt could manage the excess energy. I’d seen them talking at least once a week but hadn’t ever thought about it because everybody talked to her. She knew the library backward and forward.

Dawna let out a delighted guffaw and held up her hand—to slap cold air. “Girl, you know that’s got to be right. Who else? Kevin was there all the time.” The best part was that if Jones was somehow still listening in, he had nothing, and I’ll bet he was seething.

So now I had to convince Anna to do whatever it was she needed to do. I just hoped she knew she was Kevin’s Vaso. I’d hate to think he would do something like that without her permission, but then again, he’d done stupid stuff like that to me, so what did I know?

My cell phone rang. The screen didn’t recognize the number, but it was an international call judging from the long string of digits. I pressed the receive button. “Celia Graves.”

“My mother would speak with you.” I recognized the voice. Princess Adriana was Queen Lopaka’s daughter but was not her heir. Our relationship hadn’t begun well—actually, Adriana had challenged me to a duel. I’d won and she had taken it pretty well. I wouldn’t call us friends, but I didn’t think she’d try to kill me again.

“Good evening, Adriana. How’ve you been? What’s new?”

There was a pause, as though she’d never actually been asked that. “I’m engaged to be married. I suppose that’s new.”

Engaged? Wow! That was news. “Omagawd. That’s fabulous! Where’d you meet him? Is he another siren or human or what? Are you ecstatic?”

There was another pause and her voice sounded confused by the question. “It’s … um, complex. I believe I’ll be happy. We have much in common. I will finally be a queen, even if it’s not of my own people.”

A queen? That would mean she’s marrying a king. There weren’t very many eligible world monarchs. Of course, there are a bunch of princes who might someday get the throne. “What country? Have I ever heard of it?”

Now she sounded amused: “I believe you have. It’s Rusland.”

She was marrying King Dahlmar? I felt my jaw drop. “But he’s … well, he’s old!” He was handsome, to be sure, but he was silver haired, elegant. A grandfather, not a husband.

Her laugh was the gentle tinkle of water over chimes. “He’s younger than me, Celia. By a number of years. You forget how old I am. He’s lost two sons and has no heirs. I have no hope to rule here but could be a queen there and gain an important ally for my mother. And he is quite attractive. We’re both lonely and I’ve always … dreamed of having children.” The admission seemed to startle her, and the tone of her voice changed from amazed wonder and joy to a more businesslike one. “Of course you will be invited to the wedding. But now my mother would speak with you. Thank you for asking after my … well, just thank you.”

Wow. I’d never really thought about the realities of such a long life or the duties of a royal. To have to worry about strong allies and heirs just to find a mate. I hadn’t heard the word “love” in her rambling, though her happiness was evident. But Dahlmar was a good man—strong, smart, and devoted to his people. He actually was quite a bit like Adriana. They’d make a good match … and maybe they’d wind up really falling for each other. It had happened before.

“Celia?” The queen’s voice came over the wire. “You seem to have befuddled my daughter. She scurried out of my office with a red face and odd smile.”

A small laugh escaped me. “I have that effect on people. I hope you have good news for me. Did your people talk with the judge?”

“I spoke with the judge personally.” That made me wince a little and she must have realized it, because she hurried to add, “I swear there was no improper manipulation. I made certain he was protected from my psychic abilities before I walked into the room.”

Oh! That reminded me of my talk with Alex. Lord, was it only yesterday? “By the way, before I forget, the police here have asked me to provide DNA to make charms for their officers. Would hair from me protect against any sirens, or just me?”