I shoved my fingers through my hair. “Okay, so how can I stop them?”
His eyes narrowed. “I dislike the thought of you pursuing one with this ability.”
“Well, it’s my job,” I retorted. “And people are dying.”
His mouth tightened. “Ah, yes, your duty to protect and serve.” I could hear the sneer in his voice, his disdain not for what I did but for whom I chose to protect and serve. Then he inclined his head. “Yet I understand that this is a matter of honor for you.”
“Yes. I swore an oath.” Which was true, though I’d never really thought about it on this level. I’d been sworn in as an officer after graduating from the academy, and like everyone else I’d raised my right hand and done the I-state-your-name business and never thought twice about it, except that it was one of those things you had to do to be a cop. But for demonkind, an oath was serious, and honor was paramount.
But any hopes that he would be more inclined to help me due to it being a matter of honor were dashed when he turned away and strode toward the diagram. He was making a point. He had no need to be in the diagram to return to his own realm. Well, I guess now I knew whether he was pissed or pleased. But then again, it wasn’t his matter of honor, it was mine.
“Rhyzkahl,” I said, following him. “Please. How can I stop this killer?”
He spun to face me, lip curled in a snarl. “You can do nothing to stop this creature, save destroy it, and soon, before it grows too strong to be destroyed by any means that you possess.”
I opened my mouth to ask how to track it down and destroy it, but he jerked his hand up to silence me. “I will answer no more questions for you until you agree to my terms,” he growled. Then, with a shimmer of potency, he was gone.
IT WAS A GOOD THING THAT I’D SLEPT SO WELL BEFORE the summoning, because I sure as shit wasn’t able to sleep after Rhyzkahl departed.
I stared at the ceiling in my bedroom, alternating between angst and anger at myself. Woo, boy, I sure showed Ryan, didn’t I? I showed him that I could call the demonic lord. I showed him that I could sleep with whomever—or whatever—I wanted. Too bad I was left feeling like shit now.
Rhyzkahl was an excellent lover, there was no denying that. He knew all the right moves, could read my desires, gave me what I wanted when I wanted it—whether I knew it or not. He did all of the right “afterglow” things too, like holding me, stroking my hair, and murmuring sweet nothings.
But he didn’t mean any of them. He was a demon, and anything he did for me was only part of some bigger plan.
Then, to really cap the night off, I’d managed to piss him off by not yet agreeing to be his summoner.
And why the fuck did I feel like I’d cheated on Ryan? That was the most insane part of it all. Ryan and I were most certainly not in anything remotely resembling a relationship. We’d never slept together, had never even come close to kissing. Was I feeling guilty only because Ryan had come out so vehemently against me having a relationship with Rhyzkahl? Though, again, that wasn’t exactly a relationship either.
I sighed. Okay, so I really couldn’t summon Rhyzkahl again unless I was willing to give him the commitment he wanted, but I had the storage diagram now. I could call any demon I wanted, whenever I wanted. I didn’t need the help of the demonic lord.
So why did the thought of never calling him again leave me with an ache in my gut?
I was definitely the most screwed-up human in all existence.
My thoughts continued to churn and whirl in similar lines. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but when my cell phone rang, I jerked out of something that was awfully similar to sleep.
I blinked away the scuzz in my eyes and managed to make out that it was the Beaulac dispatch number. I fumbled for the answer button. “Gillian here,” I croaked. I glanced over at the clock. Five a.m. Gah. If I had slept, it wasn’t for more than an hour or so.
“Detective Gillian, this is Corporal Powers in the radio room. Mandeville PD called. They found your business card at the condo of Elena Sharp.”
I sat up. “Why were they at her condo? What happened?”
“She’s dead. Apparent suicide. Want me to text you the contact info?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” I said, trying to shake off the numb shock. Too convenient. Too much coincidence. It was all connected somehow. Suicide, my ass, I thought grimly.
ABOUT AN HOUR later I pulled into the parking lot of Elena Sharp’s complex. The detective I’d spoken to, Robert Fourcade, had been fairly accommodating. And, after I’d given him a quick rundown of the case surrounding Elena’s husband’s death, he had agreed to allow me into the scene.
I pulled my badge out and showed it to the officer manning the door. “I’m Detective Gillian, from Beaulac PD. Detective Fourcade’s expecting me.”