Heart of the Demon

chapter Eleven



Keira stood at the door, in jeans and a T-shirt, the tile floor cold against the soles of her bare feet, and watched Finn swing one long leg over his bike. She’d wanted to tell him she’d joined the rogue group at Caladh’s request, that she was one of the good guys. By all the gods how she had wanted to confess. She wished she could explain that she was there to stop them, not help them, that in order to put an end to Stefan’s idiocy she had to assist them in the short term. She wanted more than what they had, but she couldn’t risk the mission, or her heart. She believed him when he said he cared for her. She could see that in the way he looked at her, the tenderness he displayed while they were together. But Finn only thought of himself and would never be able to give her what she needed emotionally. She had to be prepared to be the one to walk away when the relationship stalled, which she was almost certain it would do.

Even as she believed that deep down, where it counted, Finn was good in spite of the violence that surrounded him, she also believed he didn’t want to change. And until he figured that out about himself, she couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t betray her if she told him the truth. So she’d kept quiet.

And it wasn’t as if she was the only one with secrets. She watched him rev up his bike, the sound echoing throughout the neighborhood. When he waved at her, she summoned a smile and lifted her hand in farewell. Of everyone she knew Finn was the best at skullduggery. As he pulled away from the curb, the thought of following him to see what he was up to flitted across her mind. Before she could talk herself out of it, she turned back inside, locking the front door behind her, and grabbed her purse as she headed to the garage. Because she was barefoot she had to move the driver’s seat forward before she could back out. Within a few seconds, she was heading down the road after him.

She did her best to keep a few cars between them so he wouldn’t know he was being followed. She’d never really done this before, but she watched a lot of television. When he turned into a subdivision, she pulled over to the curb and waited a few seconds, her heart pounding like bongo drums in her throat, before she made the same turn.

It took a few minutes of driving around the neighborhood before she saw his motorcycle parked in front of a territorial-style house. The outside was adobe with an arched entryway leading to a large courtyard. The front door was red and had just swung open as Keira stopped across the street. She didn’t recognize the woman who greeted Finn, but they didn’t act like lovers. She was glad of that. The two of them might not have made any declarations of love, but they had made progress. She didn’t like the idea that he might love or care for someone else.

Of course, he would never have sex with her while he was in love with another woman. He, at times, seemed more werewolf than demon, because he was as faithful a hound as any wolf she knew.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear what was going on inside, she made a mental note of the address and drove back to the main road. Caladh hadn’t been returning her calls, and she not only wanted to talk to him about the misgivings she was beginning to have about this whole thing, but she also wanted to find out what was going on, why she suddenly seemed persona non grata with him. Maybe if she could corner him at council headquarters he’d agree to set a meeting with her, just to get her out of his hair.

Her agenda set, Keira drove to the main council building and parked in the rear. She stepped out onto the pavement in her bare feet and popped the trunk with her remote. She reached inside and pulled out a pair of yellow heels. Because she sometimes needed to take off her shoes to feel the earth beneath her feet, and she’d ended up losing more than one pair that way, she always kept a few extra in the trunk. Now she was glad she had.

After donning the shoes, she walked around to the front of the building. As she pushed open the door, she immediately had to step to one side as a black-clad security officer pushed past her. Other security guards milled around the entrance to the main chamber. Voices came from the big room, some shouting, and she thought she also heard weeping.

One of the officers, a big fey warrior named Conal, walked past her and locked the front door. On his way back he stopped and frowned down at her. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I wanted to see Councilor Caladh,” she said. She glanced around at the chaos. “What’s going on here?”

“You’ve arrived just in time for us to go on lockdown,” he said. “Lucky you.”

She shot a look at the door and then stared at him. “I gathered we were on lockdown when you locked the door, boyo,” she drawled, trying to hold on to her patience. “Why are we on lockdown?”

“Deoul has been murdered.”

Shock ripped through her. The president of the council was dead? Murdered!

Conal motioned to one of the guards. “Stay with her,” he instructed and walked into the main chamber.

“Wait!” Keira took two steps forward only to be stopped by the guard’s big hand wrapped around her arm.

“Sorry, miss,” he said. From his scent she surmised he was a feline shapeshifter—a lion, she thought, though of the African or American variety she couldn’t say. She’d always had trouble sorting them out until, of course, they actually changed into their animal forms.

“Fine,” she muttered, jerking her arm from his grasp. “Can I at least sit down?” She motioned to the row of chairs against the wall nearest the door.

“Of course.”

Keira sat down. Who could have done this? At least she knew it hadn’t been Finn, because he’d been with her all morning. Relief that he wasn’t involved was short-lived as she began wondering who might have committed the crime. She tried to get a glimpse into the main chamber. She thought she saw a couple of liaisons inside the room, including two of the werewolf liaisons, Victoria Joseph and Bartholomew Asher. Then the guards at the door closed ranks, making anything more than their large brutish bodies impossible to see. They moved again, and Caladh walked out. Blood streaked the front of his white council robe and covered his hands.

She shot to her feet. “Caladh!” She started toward him, only to be stopped again by the burly guard. “Get out of my way, you damned beastie,” she grated.

“It’s all right, Jeff,” Caladh said. To Keira he replied, “It’s not my blood. It’s Deoul’s.” He paused, his face pallid. “He’s dead.” He raised liquid brown eyes to hers. “Someone killed him. I went into the chamber to…” He shook his head. “He was lying on the floor, covered in blood. I tried to save him.” He stared at his hands. “I tried.”

She went over and took him by the arm. “Come over here and sit down,” she said. She looked at Jeff. “Sorry about the damned beastie thing.”

“No problem.” His slight smile lightened the tension on his face for a moment. “But you need to stand back from him, miss.”

“Oh, right.” No sense in contributing to cross-contamination or whatever the hell it was called. She helped Caladh to a chair and then sat down herself, keeping an empty chair between her and the councilor. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He shook his head then stiffened before turning toward her. His scowl brought some color to his pale face. “Later, when we can talk in private,” he muttered so low she had trouble hearing him, “you can explain why you came here. For now”—he looked at the guard—“Jeff, make Miss O’Brien comfortable in the employee lounge, would you? She doesn’t need to be mixed up in all of this.”

“Yes, sir.” Jeff motioned down the hallway. “This way, miss.”

Keira stood and walked with him down the hall, casting one last glance over her shoulder to see Caladh sitting by himself, shoulders straight, eyes staring in front of him, while activity took place all around him. The calm in the eye of the storm.

Had Deoul’s murder been at Stefan’s instigation? It seemed too coincidental for it not to have been.

By Dagda’s balls, would any of them make it out of this mess alive?



Finn accepted the bottle of chilled beer Caine handed him.

“Tori just called to let Nix know that Deoul was murdered at council headquarters.” Caine walked toward an overstuffed armchair across from the sofa Finn was on.

“Murdered!” Finn leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “By whom?”

Caine shrugged. “With all the prets that are in and out of there, it’s impossible to know at the moment. But it certainly underscores the importance of what we’re doing, and the need to keep it a secret, wouldn’t you say?” He shook his head and sat down. “It can’t be a coincidence that the council president was taken out three days after my ‘murder.’”

Nix perched on the plump arm of his chair, and he reached behind her. From the way he moved, Finn assumed Caine was stroking his hand across her back. It was the penultimate picture of wedded bliss. Finn was actually happy for them.

“No, I imagine Liuz is behind this.”

“And no one besides the three of us and Lucifer know what we’re doing?” Caine stared at Finn, his gaze implacable. “Everyone must think you’ve joined the pret group as a viable, energetic member. One who will do what’s necessary to further the group’s cause.” He let out a low sigh. “I don’t even know who on the council I can trust. I think I can trust Caladh, but I’m not sure about anyone else, so at this point I haven’t shared anything with anyone.”

“I haven’t told anyone, either.”

“Not even your friend Keira?”

He stared at Caine and took a swig of beer. “What part of ‘I haven’t told anyone’ did you not understand?”

“I’m just making sure,” the vampire said. He leaned back against his chair, relaxed and at ease.

“Though my father did tell Betty.”

“What?” Caine sat up, no longer so relaxed.

Nix also straightened. “Wait, what?” Her gaze narrowed on Finn. “So you’re telling me that Lucifer really is your father, like all the rumors say?”

Finn merely raised a brow and took another sip of beer.

She looked at Caine. “Did you know?” she asked.

He glanced up at her. “Lucifer told me several months ago.”

At the dark look Nix shot her husband, Finn figured Caine should’ve kept that last little bit to himself.

Eyes flashing with demon fire, Nix jumped to her feet. “Let me make sure I have this straight. Several months ago my mother’s boyfriend told you that Finn was his son, and you didn’t tell me? You know I’ve been wondering about that.”

“It wasn’t my story to tell, honey.” Caine tugged her down onto his lap. Finn noticed that she didn’t put up much of a fight. “It was Finn’s.”

She turned her glare on Finn. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I like to keep you guessing, little cousin. It keeps your mind sharp.”

She let out an aggrieved sigh. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. Don’t call me that.”

“The more you tell him not to, the more he’ll do it,” Caine murmured. “If he doesn’t get a rise out of you, there’s no more fun to be had, and he’ll let it go.”

“He’s also right here, listening to you.” Finn tipped the bottle to his lips and chugged several deep mouthfuls of beer. “Don’t you pay him any attention, Nix. I like calling you ‘little cousin.’ And just think, if our parents ever get around to getting married, I can call you ‘little sister.’”

“Aargh.” Nix struggled off her husband’s lap and glared at Finn, though he could see humor lurking in her eyes. “You are a pain in my ass, you know that?” She sidestepped Caine’s attempt to haul her back down. “I’m going to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup. You”—she pointed at Finn—“can go out to eat. And you,” she said to her husband, her expression softening, “can come get a bite whenever you want to.”

Finn watched her walk away. He was used to rubbing Nix the wrong way, and he ordinarily didn’t care what she or anyone else thought about him. But he cared what Keira thought. She was light to his darkness, a breath of fresh air in the squalidness he found himself in day after day. He had to battle back unfamiliar guilt at deceiving her. What a mess he was in.

“There’s something else you should know,” Caine said.

“There usually is.” Finn finished his beer and leaned forward to put it on the coffee table. Then he sat back and crossed his legs, resting his ankle on the opposite knee.

“Liuz is Tori Joseph’s cousin.”

Finn shifted against the sofa. “I’m sure I misheard you. What the hell did you say?”

“Stefan Liuz, known as Natchook ot Renz in the other dimension, was a cousin to Sirina lan Maro. After the rift, Sirina became Victoria Joseph.”

“And you didn’t think I should know that little fact when you asked me to infiltrate the group?” Finn pushed to his feet. “And you were worried about maintaining secrecy with me. I don’t see how Tori will sit back and let her cousin be captured. She has to know he won’t let himself be taken alive.”

Caine shook his head. “No, he won’t. But Tori’s learned her lesson. She won’t interfere in what has to be done.”

“What do you mean?”

The vampire glanced toward the kitchen. “Natchook…Liuz is the one who caused Nix to be turned.”

Finn had heard the story, or part of it at any rate. He’d known that Nix had been attacked and that Caine had turned her in order to save her life. He hadn’t known that Stefan Liuz was the one who’d savaged her. “And Tori knows this?”

“She does now.” Caine took a breath and blew it out. “Her brother went rogue a few months back and killed or turned half a dozen people or so. Including Dante MacMillan’s sister.”

Finn let out a low whistle. “I’d heard about all of that when it was happening, of course. Liuz was involved?”

Caine nodded. “Tori’s brother was doing it as a way to prove his worth to Liuz.” He sighed again. “Believe me, she knows better than to stand in the way. Liuz has been responsible for the loss of many lives in his quest for power, and there’s only one penalty to pay.”

Death.

Still, Finn sensed some hesitation on Caine’s part. “You’re not sure of her, are you?”

He met Finn’s eyes. “She loves her cousin. On some level she has to be thinking of a way to get him out of this. I know I would be.”

“Uh-huh.” He stared at Caine. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Caine shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

Before Finn could reply, his cell began to play “Highway to Hell.” He tugged his phone from his back pocket and connected the call. “Dad,” he greeted.

“I assume you’ve heard Deoul’s been killed.” Lucifer’s voice was terse.

“Yeah, Caine told me.”

“You’re with him?”

Finn rubbed his brow. “I’m over at his house.”

“Let him know that Caladh has been put in place as interim president until formal voting can be scheduled.”

“That was quick,” Finn muttered. “Both the action and you finding out about it.”

Lucifer laughed. “You know I have people everywhere, son. Anyone who thinks I don’t know what’s going on would be mistaken.”

And that made Finn wonder something else. “Which begs the question: How long have you known about this rogue group?”

His father didn’t respond right away. When he did, it was only to say, “I’ve known awhile. It doesn’t matter how long, does it? I am doing something about it.”

“Right.”

“We’ll touch base later,” Lucifer said and ended the call.

Finn slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Nix came into the room, popping the last bite of grilled cheese into her mouth. “It got quiet in here. I couldn’t hear anything from the kitchen,” she said, admitting to listening in with a grin. She looked from Finn to her husband. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’m waiting to find out,” Caine said.

Finn raised his brows. “Caladh’s been named interim council president.”

“Well.” Caine looked at his wife and then met Finn’s gaze again. “That changes things, doesn’t it?”

“It certainly does.” Finn blew out a breath. “Does this mean that we can trust Caladh more? Or less?”

“There’s the sixty-thousand-dollar question.” Caine put his arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her close to his side. “I don’t know. For now, let’s keep things on the QT as we’ve been doing.”

The dynamics, not only of the council but of the preternatural community on the whole, had changed. How, or if, it would impact the rogue group was anyone’s guess.