MY STOMACH WAS DOING QUEASY FLIP-FLOPS AS I pulled into my aunt’s driveway, a combination of shock and no food other than my morning coffee. And, since I took my coffee thick and sweet, I now faced a serious comedown off the caffeine and sugar high.
A headache indicated that it wanted to take up residence behind my eyes, and I squinted against the noonday sun as I walked up the stairs to the porch. I heard a low rumble from the west and I glanced up, seeing the dark mass of clouds on the horizon that promised afternoon thunderstorms. About time. The harsh weather could be a shock to people who weren’t from this area, but the near-daily thunderstorms were about the only thing that made the summers bearable. The temperature would drop about ten degrees, and even though the humidity would climb up into the sodden figures, it was still better than the relentless heat. And I could handle the humidity just fine. I’d dry up and flake away in a desert climate.
Another low rumble accompanied me as I unwound the aversion on the door. As if answering the thunder, my impending headache gave a warning throb as I slid my key into the lock. Painkillers, I thought. And food. I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and I glanced back to verify that it was Ryan. It was. And, even better, I saw that he had bags in his hand—the kind of bags that fast-food establishments packaged their wares in.
Finally, something was going right with my day.
I turned the key and stopped dead, hand still holding the key as my heart did a little jump. The door had already been unlocked. I released the breath I was holding and let go of the key, backing away from the door and pulling my gun from my holster. How much noise had I made coming up the stairs? I could hear movement within. As I slid to the side to get better cover, I could see a figure moving around, but it was impossible to see who—or what—it was through the sheer curtains. But the ward had still been up, I thought. I knew that much.
I turned to signal to Ryan but discovered that I didn’t need to. He was sharp and must have seen me back away from the door. The bags of food had been abandoned on the hood of his car, and he stood at the base of the steps, his own gun drawn.
“Someone’s in there,” I mouthed silently. He gave me a small nod in response, waiting for me to take the lead.
With the door unlocked, it was an easy entry. I pushed the door open with one hand, quickly moving to avoid being framed in the doorway. “Beaulac Police,” I shouted, covering the hallway and entry to the kitchen with my Glock. “Come out where I can see you!” In my peripheral vision I could see Ryan entering smoothly and shifting to a position where he could cover the areas I couldn’t.
“Oh, shit!” I heard a male voice from the kitchen. “Kara, it’s just me.”
I couldn’t place the voice, though it was familiar. “Come out where I can see you, and keep your hands in plain sight!”
I don’t think I could have possibly been more surprised if the pope had exited the kitchen. Instead, it was Carl, Dr. Lanza’s gangly morgue tech, stepping cautiously through the doorway, his eyes wide and his hands raised. “Kara, it’s just me.”
I struggled for words for a couple of seconds as I tried to process why the fuck the morgue tech would be here. Could he be the one who’s been screwing around with the wards? If he was a summoner, I’d eat my left shoe. “What are you doing here?” I finally managed to ask, not yet lowering my gun.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on the place ever since Tess has been in the hospital.”
A piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “You’ve been mowing the lawn?” And Carl was tall, thin, with light-hazel eyes. Melanie-the-dingbat’s description hadn’t been far from the truth after all.
He smiled faintly. “Yes, and doing the edging, and weeding her gardens. And I fixed a busted window, and her roses needed some pruning too, so I—”
“Why?” Ryan interrupted, voice sounding oddly harsh in the hallway. “Why do you give a shit about Tessa’s roses?”
Carl blinked. “Well, she’s my girlfriend,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes flicked from Ryan and then to me. “You didn’t know?”
“No!” The word came out somewhat strangled. I holstered my gun and roughly shoved my hand through my hair. “No, she never saw fit to inform me that she had a … social life.” Not that it was all that shocking … Okay, it was all that shocking. This was Tessa. Weird, strange, quirky Tessa, who summoned demons in her house. I frowned. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but my aunt is kinda … strange. And has some, er, secrets.” Gah. This was starting to sound like she was some sort of spy. An insane one.
Carl lowered his hands, a small smile curving his mouth. “I know. She summons”—his gaze flicked quickly to Ryan, and I could see Carl censor himself—“strange creatures,” he finished instead of what he was obviously going to say.
“Demons,” Ryan growled.
Carl nodded once. “Yes, she’s a summoner of demons.”
I took a careful breath. I really didn’t want to eat my left shoe. “Are you?”