I tensed in annoyance. Why was Seretis asking for forgiveness when Kadir was the one who needed the help? Ugh. I hated the dynamics between the lords. “Hey, lighten up, Blondie.” I lifted my chin. “Seretis came here by accident, not for vay-cay.”
Kadir’s regard zeroed in on me. Seretis placed his hand on my arm. “He speaks truth, Kara Gillian,” he said. “It was my choice to remain. No time for goodbyes now.” He gave my arm a squeeze then pulled away, strode past Kadir and down the trail with Sammy at his side. Bryce hesitated then jogged after Seretis. I didn’t begrudge his desire for a few more seconds with his friend. He and I both knew that if Kadir decided to do something unpleasant to me there wasn’t a damn thing either of us could do about it.
Kadir’s expression was a mix of anger, urgency, and strange curiosity as he closed the distance between us. “With or without intent, no qaztahl has the luxury of absence from the demon realm now,” he said in a vicious purr, though instead of “the demon realm” he used the hideously unpronounceable demon word for his world.
I offered him a bland smile. “Last I checked, you were a qaztahl. Better get your ass back.”
“You must barricade the valve so no others can pass,” he went on with clipped urgency as if I hadn’t spoken. “It is possible to alter a node for permanent passage. Not so for a valve. It is only a matter of time before it gives way with disastrous effect.”
“Can’t barricade or symmetrize your valves now, thanks to your flunky,” I said through clenched teeth.
With lightning speed, he gripped my hair near my scalp and dragged my face close to his, violet eyes locked on mine. I sucked in a breath and suppressed the instinct to struggle. He reeked of sulfur and singed hair. Go on, I thought at him with a mental snarl. Assess.
He released me so abruptly I staggered a step before finding my balance. New rage smoldered in his eyes. “Katashi.” He spoke the name like a curse.
“That’s right.” I straightened and gave him a sneer. “Your dog is running around biting people, even the ones you don’t want bit.”
“You yet hold the knowledge of creating a barricade seal. Find a way.” He sprinted back toward the valve like a nightmarish gazelle to save his realm.
I followed at a jog, but by the time I reached the pond clearing he was gone. Bryce crouched by Sammy several feet from the end of the trail.
“What the hell was that all about?” I asked Bryce. Hopefully, his connection to Seretis could shed some light on the last few minutes of weirdness.
Bryce straightened, sighed. “The only lords who can tolerate the out-of-phaseness of Kadir’s realm for more than a few minutes are Elofir and Seretis.” He grimaced, scratched the back of his head. “They were able to control one anomaly without Seretis, but a second cropped up that brought fire rain. Kadir needed Seretis, and so he came for him.”
“Their world has turned into a nightmare!” I said, pairing my words with a hard kick at a rotten stump. “I don’t understand why the Mraztur continue to condone Katashi’s bullshit with the valves.”
Bryce pressed his lips together and spread his hands. “I got nuthin’.”
The rustle of brush and cracking twigs heralded Idris as he sprinted into the clearing. “What happened at the valve?” he asked as he slid to a stop, gaze sweeping the area.
“Kadir came through and took Seretis back,” I said. “There was an—” Idris cut me off with an explosive curse and ran for the valve. I stayed out of his way so that he could stabilize it.
Pellini came puffing into the clearing. Since Idris didn’t want or need us hanging out and watching him work, the three of us returned to the house. On the way back Bryce and I briefed Pellini on Kadir’s bizarre visit. By the time we made it to the kitchen, we had Pellini caught up on the discoveries at my aunt’s house and were well into the general state of affairs in the demon realm.
The buzz of the gate intercom halted any further conversation. Bryce peered at the screen on the security panel, and his expression went grave. “Kara, we have a problem.”
Chapter 30
I looked over Bryce’s shoulder at the small display. A St. Long Parish Sheriff’s Office cruiser and a dark Chevy Impala idled in the driveway beyond the gate. Detective O’Connor stood by the intercom, looking very official in his sunglasses and starched dress shirt.
My stomach lurched. It was really happening. “Oh, well, so much for a restful evening!” I said, being flippant in an attempt to maintain a cool demeanor. Not that anyone bought my act, least of all me. I pressed the intercom button. “Hi, Detective, how can I help you today?”