Personal Demon (31 page)

My brother…

“I’m sorry.”

I looked up to see Paige. “Can you confirm…?”

“Yes, of course.”

As she knelt beside Hector, I took out my phone. There were steps that needed to be taken after the murder of a Cabal son, and I was not about to ask my father to take them. In fact, the first thing I did was insist that news of Hector’s death be kept from him until I was there to break it.

An investigation had to be launched and a cover-up begun. The police could not be called. His wife could not even suspect that they’d needed to be called, a situation made more difficult by where he’d died. She had to be kept out of this room until his body could be removed, and to do that, we’d have to keep news of his death a secret until it was too late for her to rush in. If that happened, our only recourse was to claim suicide, an explanation that would raise almost as many questions as murder. Heart failure or a stroke would be easier, if it could be managed.

One call set the wheels in motion. I explained the situation succinctly, then said, “Until I inform my father, all calls regarding this matter are to come to me, at this number.”

I expected some hesitation. But the chief of security agreed, and promised to keep me informed of all developments.

“Carlos,” Paige said, coming over to me. “I never would have believed it.
Working
with Hector, maybe.

But on his own? Something this complicated? Either we all seriously underestimated his intelligence, or this really was Hector’s work—and Carlos just got greedy.”

For a moment, I wondered what she was talking about. Then it hit me.

I sent one of the guards out to enlist the Cabal household staff to help tend to the family—and keep them out—then bring the butler to me.

“Did you admit Carlos earlier?” I asked the butler.

“Yes, sir.”

“And the exact time?”

“Close to what Mrs. Cortez said. He arrived at nine-forty-five and left shortly after ten.”

“And you’re certain it was Carlos?”

He didn’t take umbrage at the question. In our world, illusion and deceit are facts of life.

“I certainly believed it to be him, sir.”

“And you didn’t see Hector or admit anyone into this room after Carlos left?”

“No, sir.”

Hector could have admitted someone through the secret window after Carlos left—but one thing was clear.

We needed to find Carlos.

“What about William?” Paige said.

I hesitated. As much as I wanted to stop Carlos, I had another brother to think about—one who might need protecting. “William first. But before we go, I should…”

I cracked open the door and peeked out. The hall was empty, the staff having distracted the family or convinced them everything was fine. Should I find Emilio and tell him? He didn’t know me. Should a stranger be the one to bear such news?

The butler spoke before I could. “I’ll handle it, sir. Once Mr. Cortez is removed, I’ll tell the widow, then let her break it to the boys. Stroke, was it?”

“Yes.”

He nodded.

HOPE: UNWELCOME

“H
ave you spoken to your mother?” Karl asked as we walked to Cortez headquarters.

The question was so unexpected I could only gawk. “What?”

“Have you called your mother since you’ve been in Miami?”

I had the day I arrived, but since then had told myself she’d expect me to be busy with my story. Truth was, I’d been uncomfortable calling her while playing Faith Edmonds.

“Benicio can tempt you all he wants,” Karl said. “You have a long way to go before he stands any chance of winning you over.”

That’s what he’d meant by the question about my mother. Would I ever stop being surprised—and maybe a little discomfited—by how well Karl knew me?

I took his point, but I only had to think back to those few minutes in the panic room to make me wonder how right he was. As long as my ties—to home and family, work and the council—stayed intact, I didn’t have much in common with the young supernaturals in the gang. Yet, at times, like them, I felt alone and alienated by my powers.

I still mourned the perfectly open relationship I’d once had with my mother. There’d been a level of honesty there I’d never have again.

Even in the world of supernaturals, I’d never be truly understood or accepted. My powers were too different and disconcerting. Who wants to be around someone who can read their worst thoughts? Karl had worked around it, but I’m sure it hadn’t been easy, which made me cherish his friendship all the more.

Still, I had a good life, especially compared to Jaz or Sonny. I wouldn’t easily be swayed to a Cabal. That was Karl’s point. But was he right?

In that panic room, my moral core had shut off. I’d looked at Troy and I hadn’t even known who he was.

I’d thought only of feeding off his death.

What if it happened again and I stood by and let someone die? I’d never be able to face my family again.

I’d never be able to face the council. Wouldn’t be able to face myself…

“Hope?” Karl was frowning.

“Sorry, I’m just—” I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”

“You will. And I want you to call your mother in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to invite her to…What’s her favorite restaurant?”

“Odessa’s in Philly.”

“Invite her there to dine with us next Saturday night.”

“Us?”

“Is that a problem?”

“It just sounds very…couple-ish.”

“Is that a problem?”

I looked up at him. If it all did fall apart, there’d be one person who’d still be there, who wouldn’t care what I’d done. Would he ever know how much that meant to me?

“Karl Marsten?”

We looked up to see Troy’s partner, Griffin, walking toward us. Did his blue eyes frost over as they met mine? Probably my imagination. I was in the mood to see disapproval everywhere.

Karl extended a hand. When Griffin pretended not to see it, I
didn’t
imagine the icy look in Karl’s eyes. If he was going to make the effort, he didn’t appreciate being repulsed by a glorified security guard.

“Have you heard from—” I began.

“This way,” Griffin said, then headed back toward the building.

I hurried to catch up, but Karl caught my arm, his look reminding me that we were here to assist the Cabal, and damned if we were chasing after our escort.

“I’m sorry you were called away from home at this hour,” I said, as Griffin looked back at us impatiently.

“You think I care about that?” His tone was so sharp I jumped. “My partner’s lying on a hospital bed, fighting for his life. My boss was almost killed, and now he’s guarded by security team flunkies I barely know. And I’m stuck playing escort for—” He stopped himself.

“A werewolf?” Karl said smoothly.

A grunt that could be a yes.

“I don’t know why Lucas assigned you to us, but we had no say in the matter, and as soon as we find William, we’ll be out of your hair,” I said as we approached the front doors.

“Better yet,” Karl said. “We could leave right now.”

“You’re not going anywhere until Lucas says so.” Griffin yanked open the door.

Karl caught and held it. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lucas told me to guard you, and I will until I’m relieved of that duty.”

“Is that Lucas’s order?”

“I know my job.”

In other words, Lucas had said no such thing. As we stepped inside, my cell phone rang. It was Paige.

“We just got to the office,” I explained as I answered.

“Is Griffin there?”

I looked at the bodyguard, who glowered back at me. “Yes.”

She gave a throaty laugh. “Is he giving you a hard time? Ignore him. He’s a good guy. He just takes the whole bodyguard image very seriously. Not like…” A slight catch in her breathing.

“How’s Troy?” I asked.

“He’s in surgery now.”

That’s all she said. I guess it was all there was to say—that he’d survived long enough to get onto the operating table and we just had to wait and see what would happen there.

I could hear voices in the background. It sounded like an argument. Had they run into trouble?

“Anyway, I wasn’t calling to pester you about your progress. I just wanted to say…be careful.”

“Okay…”

“We just got to Hector’s house. He’s here in the study apparently, and has been all evening. Carlos was here an hour ago. So that’s two pretty much accounted for.”

I caught her meaning, one she probably didn’t dare voice with others around. If Benicio’s attacker had gone after one of the sons following his failure at the house, it would be William. If that attacker had managed to get into Cabal headquarters, he could be here now.

“Just be careful,” she said. “Let Griffin take the lead. He’s the professional.”

GRIFFIN LED US
past the young man at the front desk.

“Shouldn’t we speak to him?” I said as we headed for the elevator. “He might know if William left yet.”

Griffin grunted and kept walking, so I stopped. Karl did the same. Griffin reached the elevators, saw that we’d left him and strode back, passing us and walking to the desk.

“Mr. Cortez would like you to answer these people’s questions.”

The receptionist/guard gave him a discreet questioning look. Griffin’s chin dipped a quarter-inch. In this business “tell these people what they want to know” could easily mean “tell them what they’re
allowed
to know.”

“Is William Cortez still in his office?” I asked.

“I believe so.” He dropped his gaze to a display just below the desktop and tapped the screen. “His car is still in the garage, and I haven’t seen him leave.” Another tap. “Nor has he used his code on any of the other exit doors.”

“When’s the last time anyone saw him?”

I expected him to say, “How should I know?” but the guard tapped the screen a few more times. “He requested dinner at seven-thirty, and it was taken to his office at eight. He asked for coffee at nine.”

“Has he had any visitors?”

“None that came through me, miss, and I’ve been on since seven.”

We headed to the same elevator we’d been taken up in yesterday. As we waited, Griffin glanced over at Karl, eyes narrowing.

“Is that Mr. Cortez’s shirt?”

Karl stretched his arms, the sleeves riding up past his wrists. “A poor fit, but the fabric and tailoring are superb.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I stole it, of course. While everyone was beating the bushes for assassins and trying to save your partner’s life, I decided to do some shopping in Benicio’s closet. I have a nice pair of diamond cuff links in the car too.”

Griffin scowled, as if not quite certain Karl was joking. When we got onto the elevator, he covered the panel as he entered the code, just in case.

HOPE: OVERTIME

W
hen we reached William’s office, the door was open and there was no sign of an occupant. Griffin went in first, circled the room, then came out and said, “He’s not here.”

I stepped inside. Papers were scattered across an otherwise pristine desk, a briefcase sat on a chair and a suit jacket hung behind the door. Karl picked up the jacket. Griffin’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m thinking of taking this too,” Karl said. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He gave the jacket a shake. At a jingle, he reached into a pocket and fished out a set of keys.

“So he hasn’t gone far,” I said. “Where’s the nearest bathroom?”

Griffin walked to a closed door that I’d presumed was a closet, and opened it to reveal a dark and empty bathroom.

“Water cooler? Vending machine? Photocopier?”

He pointed to the cooler and an all-in-one printer. “There are no vending machines on this floor. If he wants something, he calls.”

He crossed the room and picked up the phone, and I thought he was just being sarcastic—demonstrating—

but he pushed a button and murmured something.

“Maybe he stepped out to stretch his legs,” I said to Karl. “Can you tell?”

“Only that he’s been in here recently. I could try tracking him, but he’s been in and out of here so often that unless he went someplace he doesn’t normally go, it would be difficult to find a fresh trail.”

“Do you smell anything else?”

“Blood? No.”

I closed my eyes, but all I could pick up was a general sense of unease and distrust emanating from Griffin.

“He left this floor at nine-thirty,” Griffin said, startling me.

“What?”

“The elevator access records show he went down to the fourth floor at nine-thirty, but never came back up.”

“What’s on the fourth floor?”

“Lots of things.”

He was out the door before I could get another word in.

“Karl?” I said. “Can you tell whether anyone else was in here with William?”

“I can try.”

He walked to the doorway and dropped to his haunches. Griffin strode back as if just realizing we weren’t behind him.

“Are you com—?”

Seeing Karl, he stopped and let out a snort of disgust. Karl ignored it, inhaled, then stood and brushed off his trousers.

“There seems to be a recent second trail, but that was probably whoever dropped off dinner.”

“Are you coming now?” Griffin snapped.

Karl glanced over at him and smiled. “What’s the magic word?”

Griffin stalked off, muttering a word under his breath.

“That’s not it,” Karl called after him.

Griffin’s shoulders tightened as he realized he’d been heard, but he didn’t stop.

WHEN THE ELEVATOR
doors opened onto the fourth floor, it looked as quiet and empty as the other levels. Odd. I’d worked for corporations, and even on floors staffed by nine-to-fivers you could expect to see cleaners at night. But I suppose having cleaners—even your own staff—in a Cabal office, unsupervised, wasn’t wise. Better to lock down the floors and monitor all access.

We followed Griffin until we reached the first junction. Then Karl stopped, his nostrils flaring, and veered down the adjoining hall.

We got about ten steps before Griffin’s “Hey!” rang out.

“I thought I told you to stay with me,” he said as he stalked up behind us.

“No, I don’t believe you did.”