Personal Demon (27 page)

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Authors: Kelley Armstrong

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Occult fiction, #Contemporary, #Occult, #Werewolves, #Fantasy - Contemporary, #Supernatural, #Demonology, #Thrillers, #English Canadian Novel And Short Story, #Miami (Fla.), #Reporters and reporting

BOOK: Personal Demon
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Karl didn’t understand why I had to push so hard, and it was wrong of me to expect him to. He believed I was in danger with this job so, to him, there would be no reason to continue. Why should we care what happened to these people? I’d done my duty, paid my debt, and now I should be free to go home. To protect me, he had to lie, because he knew I’d never walk away otherwise. Wrong-headed, but right-hearted.

WHEN I’D FIRST
heard about the council, I pictured a group of gray-haired politician types. There wasn’t a gray head in the bunch, which wasn’t surprising when you considered they had to get out there and resolve problems themselves. The younger, more dynamic council is a fairly recent development, after the council had to face, unprepared, a true and serious threat.

Paige’s mother, the council leader, had died fighting that menace and Paige had been thrust into her position. So even before meeting Paige, I’d seen her as a potential friend. Someone just as young, confused and overwhelmed as I was.

And when I saw her for the first time, that feeling only intensified. Paige had “friend” written all over her.

A cute and zaftig young woman with green eyes that sparkled with good humor—the sweet, unpretentious girl next door.

Paige
was
sweet and unpretentious. But behind that smile was a razor-sharp mind, and the kind of confidence I could only dream about. Paige knew what she wanted from life, and she was going to get it, by sheer force of will and the sort of energy that would make you a millionaire if you could bottle it.

I’ve known ambitious people, and they’re often driven by the kind of self-interest that would make Karl look altruistic. But what Paige wanted was a better life for
others
. Lead the council into a new era of reform. Help her husband protect the rights of wronged supernaturals. Open a long-distance spellcasting school for young witches without social support systems. And do it all while making a living, maintaining a household, raising the orphaned teenage daughter of a black witch, and being married to the rebel son of the most powerful Cabal leader. Paige gave new meaning to the superwoman cliché. While we got along fine, I’d been too daunted to pursue that imagined friendship.

Paige had the hotel room door open as I was still rapping. She hugged me, greeted Karl, then ushered us inside. Lucas was on the phone.

When I’d discussed Lucas with Jaz and Sonny, I’d called him a geek. To be brutally honest, that had been my impression when we first met. He was Karl’s height, but maybe half his build. I knew he was more wiry than skinny, but with his usual three-piece suits, he looked scrawny and introspective. He had short black hair, dark eyes and a face that was, well, plain. The glasses didn’t help. Nor did the perpetually somber expression. The only time I ever saw him smile was when Paige was around.

The room was modest and comfortable, which I expected from them. A bed, a city view and a small desk, with Paige’s laptop and stacks of papers, as if they’d been working here for days instead of hours. Taped to the wall was what looked like a list of investigative steps, written in Lucas’s precise hand. Paige had added a few:
eat, sleep,
compensate for this morning’s untimely awakening by

Paige untaped the sheet. “Sorry, I was goofing around. You know Lucas and lists.”

Lucas hung up and greeted us with firm handshakes and quiet hellos. His tie was slung over the chair back, and he quickly pulled it off before waving us to the seats and perching on the edge of the bed.

As I sat, I caught Paige’s frown of concern. When she asked whether I’d eaten, I insisted I was fine.

“I could use something,” Karl said. “Let me call down—”

“You two talk to Lucas,” Paige said. “I’ll call room service and get sandwich platters and appetizer trays for all of us.”

A deft way of making sure I ate, and I didn’t miss Karl’s discreet nod of thanks.

Karl mapped out sketches of the blueprints he’d seen, blank in some spots and uncertain in others. He finished as room service arrived.

“This is an office floor at Cortez headquarters,” Lucas said, pointing to one of the drawings as we ate. He picked up another. “And this looks like the executive level. Not to slight the gang’s abilities, but breaking in there would be extremely difficult.”

“He means impossible,” Paige said. “He’s just leaving himself some wiggle room, should the unthinkable happen and he’s wrong. You were on that floor yesterday, Karl. What did you think of the security?”

Most people on the council were wary of Karl, but Paige saw no need to be cagey about his occupation. He seemed to appreciate the candor, and gave a complete evaluation, admitting that he doubted even he could break in without inside help.

“Which you wouldn’t get,” Paige said. “That’s considered treason, punishable by the highest penalty.”

“Execution?” I said.

“Too lenient.”

“With a breach that severe, an example must be made,” Lucas said. “Which isn’t to say that the gang wouldn’t be able to find someone willing to risk it for a high enough reward. We’re already searching for Juan Ortega, who may have committed treason, acting under someone else’s authority and killing Bianca. But no single person outside the family would have enough clearance to bypass all the security required to access the executive level after hours. Finding enough people willing to take that risk?” He shook his head. “That, even I would admit, does approach impossible. Still, I’ll notify my father.”

He picked up the other two sketches. “As for these, they appear to be house plans, though I don’t recognize either. This one could be a high-ranking Cabal employee, given the size. The other looks like an apartment. I should fax them to my father.” He glanced at Paige. “Is there a fax in the building?”

“I didn’t see one. The front desk would probably do it. Or if you want privacy, there should be a twenty-four-hour print shop somewhere nearby.”

She was reaching for the phone book when he said, “It would be easier to drop them off,” and picked up his cell phone again.

I anticipated a strained conversation—business-like at best—but it sounded like any son talking to his father. Lucas explained what we had, asked about dropping by and Benicio seemed to readily agree. Then Lucas glanced at Karl, who didn’t pretend he couldn’t hear the other side of the discussion, and shook his head.

“They’ve had a very taxing day, Papá,” Lucas said. “They want to get back—”

Pause.

“Yes, perhaps it would but—”

Another pause, then he covered the receiver. “My father would like you and Hope to accompany us. He wants to ask you about the plans directly.”

Karl hesitated.

“Once that’s done, your part will be over,” Lucas said. “You can head to the airport from there if you like.”

Karl nodded.

WE TOOK SEPARATE
cars. Karl had no intention of hanging around any longer than he had to. The moment we were done, we’d be heading to the airport.

Benicio lived on Key Biscayne, a secluded island south of Miami Beach, accessible only by a long toll causeway that had Karl muttering, looking in his rearview mirror as if trying to judge how far we were from the airport. It wouldn’t be more than a thirty-minute drive, but the closer we drew to the island, the more distant Miami seemed. The island was gorgeous, heavily wooded with white-sand beaches glittering under the remains of a perfect sunset.

If I worked in Miami, I’d want to live on Key Biscayne, though as we started passing houses, I knew I could never afford it. There were probably less expensive areas, but I didn’t see a house that would sell for under a million. Even the hotels looked out of my price range.

Benicio lived on the waterfront, of course. The homes on the large, secluded lots weren’t mansions, but I was sure it had to be one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Florida.

Lucas pulled into the drive of a house set back and partially obscured by forest. The eight-foot fence looked merely decorative, but Lucas stopped to talk into a tree, which I presume discreetly held an intercom.

After a moment, he glanced at Paige, as if saying something. Karl rolled down his window as Lucas turned back to the intercom.

“Is he having trouble?” I asked.

“No one’s answering.”

I put my window down and inhaled. It even smelled different than Miami, the warm air not quite so humid, the smog gone. A breeze fluttered past, rich with the scent of some heady tropical flower. It was so still and quiet I could hear water lapping against the beach, at least a quarter mile down the winding drive.

Lucas got out of the car. We joined him as he examined the intercom. Karl took a look, but it wasn’t his area of expertise, so he focused on something that was—the secured gate.

Paige got out too, waving her cell phone. “No answer from your father, but he might just be busy.”

“I’ll call the duty guards,” Lucas said.

“Is the gate usually guarded?” I asked Paige.

“It isn’t manned, but there are guards who patrol the yard. One during the day. Two at night. That’s who Lucas is calling.”

The distant symphonic ring of a cell phone started. We peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“It’s near the house,” Karl said as he walked back. “The gate’s still secured.”

The ringing stopped.

“Voice mail,” Lucas said as he hung up. He looked more puzzled than concerned. My first thought was that
this
was the gang’s target. But Lucas would have recognized the blueprints, and the locked gate meant no one had broken in.

“Is the fence electrified?” I asked.

Lucas shook his head. “My father prefers to handle intruders more discreetly. It’s wired to an alarm system that would alert the guards.”

As he headed back to the car, Paige said, “Please don’t tell me you’re going to ram the gate.”

A tiny smile. “Nothing so dramatic.”

He pulled the car up alongside the fence.

“Ah, a step stool,” Paige said.

Lucas went first, then helped Paige down on the other side. As I crested the fence, a vision flashed and I nearly toppled over. The sudden movement snapped me from the vision, and I let Karl help me down, then closed my eyes, trying to recapture the vision. After a moment, I heard a voice.

“About time. How long does it take you—” The man swallowed the last words. “Jesus, Frank, what are you—?”

“Hands where I can see them,” a second voice hissed.

I struggled to see faces, but could make out only shadowy figures against a black backdrop.

“Have you lost your mind?” the first man said. “Whatever you’re doing—”

“How do I get in the room?”

“Room? What—?”

The vision snapped as abruptly as before. As it faded, I felt a faint lick of chaos. Lucas, Paige and Karl all stood around me, waiting.

“Someone with a gun. Someone named Frank. He was asking about a room. How to get into a room.”

“What room?” Paige asked.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t—” I gave an angry shake of my head. “I’m sorry. That’s not enough, I know. Let me try again—”

“No,” Karl said. “We’re here now. Quicker to look ourselves. The cell phone sounded from just over there.”

Lucas handed Karl his phone. “Hit redial if you need it. Paige and I will head to the house. If anyone’s in the yard, we can warn the guards inside.”

“Any problems, call my cell,” Paige said.

Karl turned to me. “Stay close.”

I nodded.

“I mean it, Hope.”

“I know.”

HOPE: DEATH INTERRUPTED

S
ecurity spotlights lit up the house, but most of the yard was dim and shadowy, and the perimeter black. It was still so quiet I could hear the waves.

Karl stuck to the dark edges. He had me walk beside him—on the fence side, where presumably he thought it was safer, but was also tough for anyone not blessed with a werewolf’s night vision. I switched my chaos sensors on full.

As we passed between the fence and a small stuccoed outbuilding, Karl tugged me closer and I snapped from my reverie. Before I could reorient myself, a blinding light made me stumble back.

“For Christ’s sake, Nico, do you mind?”

A flash of darkness as the man shielded his eyes against the light. But it moved closer, a halogen beam, so bright that the figure holding it was only an outline.

“Can I get a little privacy here? I’m taking a—”

The
pffttt
of a silenced shot.

I reeled, the vision fading. Karl gripped my forearms to hold me steady. I tugged free and followed the vibes to the outbuilding.

He caught up in two long strides, and I braced myself to be pulled back, but he only took my arm and whispered, “Gun?”

I thought he was asking about the vision—what kind of gun the man had. A testament to how tired I was, I guess. After a moment I realized he meant, “Do you have your gun and if so, get it out.”

When I did, he motioned for me to head around the building one way while he went the other.

I hugged the wall. I could sense Karl behind me, watching to make sure I was alert enough to do this. Once reassured, a soft crunch of undergrowth told me he was moving, then all went silent.

I made it around the first corner before the vision hit again. It was the same scene from the same angle. I bit back my frustration. There had to be a way to train myself to at least change the viewing angle. Another reason why I’d love to speak to another Expisco.

Three more steps brought me to the next corner. The main house was fifty feet ahead, but I tried to ignore it and concentrate on this building. Presumably the door was on the next wall. I stopped, listened. I could feel only low-level chaos, which might be coming from Karl.

When I reached him, he had the door cracked open, face against the gap, sniffing. When he looked at me, I knew what I’d seen wasn’t some random or past vision. Someone had been shot inside.

“Will you wait?” he whispered.

I shook my head. The low strum of chaos rose to a steady beat. I touched his arm and lifted my lips up to his ear.

“I’ll see it anyway, whether I go in or not.”

His chin dipped in a nod and that drum of chaos subsided.

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