Demon Song (3 page)

“Believe it,” said a new voice. I jumped. I couldn’t help it. Even with my super new senses I hadn’t heard our newest member approaching. Damn it. I hate it when real vampires join the party. I hissed and moved back as Edgar, an extraordinarily powerful vampire, simply appeared in the shadow of a nearby palm tree.

If you saw Edgar walking the streets of L.A., you’d assume he was an ordinary businessman on his way home from the office. As long as you didn’t catch sight of the fangs peeking out from under his upper lip, you’d never have a clue he was the most dangerous person in a fifty mile radius. The fact that he was out in nearly broad daylight told me he was even more powerful than I’d realized, and I’d already put him at nearly the top of the list.

“She’s not lying, John. I’d know.”

Jones and Edgar were on a first name basis? Terrific. Why wasn’t I surprised?

Jones hadn’t even flinched when Edgar arrived, which meant he’d either invited him or could sense him. “She’s his Vaso, Edgar. She
has
to know. She’s blocking the connection or lying.”

“Vaso.” The word rang a bell, but it had been too long since lycanthrope cultural studies in college, so I turned to the resident expert, Emma. My questioning look made her nod and respond with lecturelike precision. “A werewolf often chooses a human partner, called a Vaso, to maintain its energy level. Excess energy is one of the leading causes of off-moon shifting and aggressive tendencies. In order for a werewolf to maintain a human appearance in normal society, the energy must be bled off periodically.”

Okay, that made sense. “Meaning Kevin
has
a Vaso, since he worked in IT at the university for a couple of years and nobody but us ever caught on that he’s a werewolf.”

She nodded. “Kevin always hinted that you served that role.”

That was news to me. He and I had never really talked about his condition. “Wouldn’t I know? I mean, that’s sort of personal, isn’t it?”

Jones cut in. “Precisely, because the partnership isn’t just a physical thing but a mental link. The human has to know where and when to find the wolf when he needs to have energy drained. So, you should know where he is.”

“But it makes no sense that I’d be the Vaso. Even when we were speaking, we barely spoke, and I sure as hell didn’t come running at his command.” I’d considered him one of my closest friends, but we weren’t close in the commonly understood sense. “Since when do you two chat? I thought Edgar was a hard target and you were hunting him.”

The organization Kevin had worked for in the past, and had gone back to work for recently, was some sort of quasi-governmental agency that ran black ops and hunted supernatural criminals—
hard targets.

Edgar shrugged. “We live in a world of shifting alliances. Now that you’re out of play I figured helping get Landingham out will make him less likely to
actively
hunt me.”

Jones nodded and reached into the car to pull out a file folder. “Hewitt here is one of the best there is at getting inside locked buildings and removing people. So he’s useful even if he’s no longer affiliated with the Company.”

I was confident I didn’t want to know the history of either statement, so I didn’t reply or ask for details. But it was handy to know Edgar’s last name. It made him feel, oddly, like less of a threat. Weird.

“Besides,” he added, instantly quashing the whole idea of him being less than a threat, “I wasn’t there when you killed either Lilith or Luther, Celia, And I’m
very
curious about just how tough you are.”

In other words, did I do it alone or had it taken an army to kill two vamps, one more than a thousand years old? I didn’t answer, just raised my brows. Luther I’d done myself, but a devout reverend had held Lilith at bay with a glowing cross while I tossed a magical knife at her. Edgar had never seen my knives and I wasn’t about to share the details. Let him wonder. Just like he was letting me wonder how he had so much intelligence. That wasn’t supposed to be possible for vampires. How was he sane and smart enough to trust in an operation? And how had he traveled to the parking lot while it was still daylight? It was nearly sunset, and he was keeping to the shadows, but still.

My sire had been powerful enough to be able to be awake in daylight, but he couldn’t be out in it. Could Edgar? That was a very disturbing thought.

“If you’re done having a ‘who’s tougher’ lovefest, could we get on with saving my brother before he’s dead?” Emma’s voice was as sharp and angry as I’d ever heard it. Not that she had the right to be. We’d been shopping for the better part of three hours and she hadn’t said a word. So now it was my fault? I raised my brows at her and she blushed.

Jones handed me the manila folder and I flipped it open. Emma was beside me instantly, her golden hair brushing my arm in contrast to my own pale blonde as she leaned in to read the documents inside.

There were stacks of paper paper-clipped together and I quickly realized that they were dossiers of people. The first was for Ronald Tarnique, father of two pretty dark-haired girls. I frowned as I read about his perfectly normal life. What was I missing? “Okay, so he was a corporate executive for one of the major charities, nice house, good income, happy family. So?”

Jones flipped to the final page of Tarnique’s dossier. It was a court order sentencing Tarnique to life at the California State Paranormal Treatment Facility—aka “the zoo.” It was the very facility I’d fought not to be sentenced to. It was located in the desert outside my hometown of Santa Maria de Luna; I’d watched TV exposéon the place that would curl your hair and heard rumors that would make you lose your lunch. According to the paper, Tarnique had gone on a rampage and slaughtered forty people at a school bake sale. I flipped back to the original police report, which had the man—as a werewolf—chewing kids’ limbs off and then eating said limbs covered with cake frosting.

Emma grabbed the file from me and read the first few pages again. “This doesn’t sound right at all. Something doesn’t add up. Lycanthropes can’t put on acts this good. To raise a family, exist in the corporate world long enough to become a manager, participate in society, and then …
this.
” She looked at Jones with haunted eyes. “What sent him over the edge?”

“Therein lies the question.” He tapped a finger on the edge of the folder. “All of these cases didn’t add up. Amy got suspicious. She told Kevin and said something was very wrong.” Amy, Kevin’s girlfriend, is also a werewolf. “She said the one thing all of these people had in common is that they’d recently visited the zoo. Tarnique had been interested in having his charity provide resources to the facility to better the lives of the prisoners.”

He shifted another paper-clipped stack to the top so I could see the picture of a pretty woman with a Farrah Fawcett–style hairdo. “Tamara Cornith, also a lycanthrope, went on a similar rampage—right down to the bake sale—in the same week, two hundred miles to the south. She’d been to the zoo months before to see her husband’s aunt, who was a guard. But they met in the parking lot, just long enough for the older woman to sign some papers. Cornith never even made it inside.”

“What does this have to do with Kevin? Has he been frequenting bake sales?”

Jones shook his head and opened his mouth, but Edgar spoke up. He was now leaning against the fender of the sedan and watching us with interest. “No. Amy apparently got curious and decided to talk to the people in the file.”

“She’d mentioned to me,” Emma added, “that she was going to try to get a visitor’s pass to the zoo. She thought something was going on there and she wanted to see for herself.”

“She got inside.” Jones let out a noise that was both annoyed and frustrated. “And they decided to keep her. They locked her in a cage and Kevin called me to help get her out.”

Emma’s outrage was immediate. “They can’t do that! They have to have a court order to put someone in prison. They can’t just
keep them.
”

“Are you sure?” Jones sounded amused. “Amy
is
a werewolf. Kevin thought they might have some sort of sniffer that alerts the staff. It would be a small matter to lock up a guest and ask for a sanctioning order to keep them. What judge would refuse if it was claimed someone went berserk inside the facility?”

“But they’re already overcrowded. Why in the world would they want
more
residents?” As the words left my mouth I realized that, while it made no sense, it also made perfect sense. There were plenty of people in the world who’d be happy to lock me up in there, just because I have fangs.

“We’re thinking there’s more at work here than overzealous right-wingers or bureaucratic red tape. Something a little more … sinister.” The way Jones said it made my stomach twist in knots.

Edgar smiled grimly. “Precisely. It would be a perfect place for a demonic being to set up camp. It’s well known that the mentally unstable are more open to possession. Add magical ability to that, and…”

Oh, hell.

Most people don’t like to think about prisons. Consciously, everybody recognizes they’re necessary, and so long as nothing bad happens inside they remain just outside our perception of normality. But while the inmates were locked up, plenty of people came and went from any institution every day—from deliverypeople to friends and family … and of course, every guard. I’d experienced for myself just how persuasive a greater demon could be. Even knowing he was going to torture me, toy with me until I went insane, then kill me hideously, I’d had to fight not to walk willingly into his arms. Someone already unstable would be toast.

“You said Amy got out. Is she okay?”

Jones took back the folder. It was pointless to read any more. I knew what I needed to. “She’s not … she’s in a coma. She has brain function, but she won’t wake up. We don’t know what they did to her. Warren’s got the top experts in the field on it—including warrior priests who have already done at least two exorcisms.” He paused. “Kevin got her out, but they captured him.”

“And you had to get Amy to safety.” I understood. Anytime people in our line of work go on missions, whether guarding celebrities or getting people out of the line of fire, there’s a chance we won’t make it out. We have to make choices and I was actually glad Jones had made the same one I would have. You get the wounded out and leave those capable of taking care of themselves behind. It sucks, but then most things involving danger do. And as angry as I was with him right now, I also knew Warren had more resources than most. He knows everyone in academia who is involved with the paranormal, and I knew from personal experience that every religious leader in the world had begun to realize that California was becoming a hotbed of demonic activity. The militant arms of the Christian churches, along with Muslim, Jewish, and Hindu religious warriors, were all working together to confront a true hell on earth.

Warren would have no problem finding people to take care of Amy’s soul.

I stared into Jones’s eyes for a long moment while “O Come All Ye Faithful” played in the background, then nodded. I was terrified down to my toes, but I had to help. “Okay, I’m in. But if it’s a demon stronghold, we can’t risk going in without an army behind us.”

“There’s no way we can get one in time,” Emma said. “Assuming anyone would believe us. Demons can influence people so subtly that the police and courts would be likely to say we’re nuts, because nothing overt is going on.”

“Exactly,” agreed Jones. “We have one choice, which is to get in the same way we did last night. As far as I can tell, nobody figured out how we got in. We should have gone back out the same way, but there was no way to with Amy unconscious. She was dead weight.”

That meant the route either was underground or involved climbing. Either Kevin or Edgar could easily carry her for hours unless it was an issue of dexterity. That meant I needed gear. “I’m not dressed for this. I say we go in after dark and after I’ve had a chance to get some tools and proper clothing. We won’t do Kevin any good if we’re not prepared for whatever they can throw at us.”

“I’ve got everything we’ll need. We’re in a hurry.” While I’m sure he believed that, he didn’t know what I had available to me.

“No offense, but for something like this I want tools I’m familiar with. Besides”—I pointed at my feathered friends—“they aren’t exactly native to the desert. Let’s let them go to bed so they don’t signal our arrival. Kevin’s tough enough to last for another hour or two.” I believed that absolutely and let the confidence show in my face and body. Jones let out another disapproving noise while Edgar shrugged. Emma looked at me for a long, silent moment and let out a deep breath before nodding.

“Fine. I’ll take you to wherever your
tools
are.” Jones opened his car door. “Get in.”

That so wasn’t happening. I smiled cynically. “Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but … well, I
don’t
trust you. I’d rather you not know exactly where I keep my stuff. I’m sure you feel the same.” Paranoia, thy name is Celia Graves. “Just tell me where and when to meet you.”

His expression shifted from surprise to offense before settling into respect. “You’ve got GPS?”

At my nod, he leaned into his car, punched a few buttons on his Garmin, then wrote something on the back of an envelope he picked up from the floor. “Use these coordinates. Meet me there in two hours. Hewitt and I will go start scoping out the facility. We’ll be ready to move in once you arrive.”