Demon Song (Blood Singer #3)

Demon Song (Blood Singer #3) Page 5

“Are you okay? I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Me, too.” A shudder overtook her. “I have the feeling I’ll have a lot to talk about with the therapist this week.”

I hoped I wouldn’t be needing to join her in the session room by the time we got Kevin out.

3

Forty-five minutes later, I was in my third-floor office staring at the contents of my weapons safe. The safe is stark black bespelled steel. Running from floor to ceiling and taking up most of one wall, it doesn’t really match the rest of the decor. My office is fairly feminine, with its peach walls, drapes pattered with cabbage roses, and dark wooden furniture. The safe is heavy enough that installing it required putting in several reinforcing beams underneath to hold the weight. Those beams had been a real pain in the tail to find because they had to fit the guidelines of the building’s historic-landmark status. But without them, the safe would probably have wound up crashing down through the ceiling of the second-floor bathroom, which was primarily used by the lone attorney in our building—and his clients.

I’d already changed into clothes more suitable for covert operations—heavy black denim pants, a black turtleneck, and my favorite “Frankenstein” boots with the steel toe inserts. I could put my hair up under a stocking cap if needed, which left only my pale face standing out like a beacon. I could take care of that later.

First I strapped on my knives. Created by the former love of my life, Bruno DeLuca, they were major magical artifacts. Bruno is one of the most powerful mages around, and it had taken him five years to bespell the blades. I shuddered just thinking about it. I mean, seriously, he’d bled himself every day for five years to create the magic in those knives. I was pretty sure they’d also been blessed by Matteo, Bruno’s warrior-priest brother. Which made them perfect for hunting demons.

It had been one of these knives that had killed Lilith. She was some kind of evil beyond a typical bat, because she’d been able to call a bitten priest while he was on holy ground. That takes some oomph. Killing her had turned the metal of the knife itself black. No amount of scrubbing or grinding could turn it silver again. I’d tried.

The knife’s mate was still gleaming and bright. Not long ago, I’d been forced to gift it to the queen of the sirens—and it had hurt me terribly to do it. She’d given the blade back after she’d had to use it to kill a member of her own family. Emotional pain seemed to follow the knives, but they worked and that was the important thing.

I shook my head. I needed to focus and get moving. The shoulder holster was next, for something with a higher caliber than my regular Colt. I wanted stopping power for any demon I might run into in the prison, so I moved up to a .44 Magnum. Then I reached for a black vest, which was a magically resistant Kevlar creation of Isaac Levy, my tailor and weapons specialist. It had multiple pockets and loops for weapons. I grabbed a stack of magical spells encased in ceramic disks, things that even non-magic humans can effectively use.

I checked each spell, making sure the raised codes on the edges hadn’t worn down. There’s seldom time during battle to read labels, so the disks are distinguished by size and shape and by the symbols carved along the edges. I pocketed disks that could cause short-term blackouts and others that were “boomers” that emitted powerful sound and light.

I was still hoping that another mage I knew, John Creede, could put a full body-binding spell into a disk. There were a lot of occasions to use that one in my business.

The black hinged case housing my newest gadget caught my eye. It was a perimeter detector that could sense the demonic. After my first one disappeared on the job where I’d been effectively killed, I’d bought a new one—the deluxe model, with a blessed silver cross. Just like the warrior priests use. I tucked it into another pocket.

There was a knock on my office door. While it was after hours and the front doors were locked, our building houses several businesses that operate 24-7. Like Bubba, the bail bondsman down the hall from me, for example. The attorneys don’t work nights, and since nobody else was in the building when I arrived I called out, “Come on in, Bubba!”

“Close,” said a familiar voice as the door opened. “Bubba let me in.” Speak of the devil. John Creede poked his head in the room. He looked good. I hadn’t seen him for almost a month, since his partner in the security firm of Miller & Creede had tried to kill us. Miller had been killed in the attack and Creede had gone back to the business to try to salvage what he could of the multinational corporation he and Miller had spent a decade building. “Got a minute?”

“Just that.” I shut the safe door as he walked in. The bolts snapped closed with an audible thunk and the light on the door turned red to show it was locked. “I have to get to a job.”

“Perfect timing then.” He was dressed in gray suit pants and a white shirt with the collar open to reveal curling hair the same sandy color as the waves tight against his head. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, as though he’d just come from a long boardroom session. In other words, yummy. He looked tan and trim and less stressed than the last time we’d seen each other. I was glad. As he walked closer I could feel the tingle of magic that always accompanied him. He didn’t seem to be generating it on purpose, but it made my whole body react. Add to that the fact that his cologne made my knees weak and I couldn’t help but stare at him, a deer caught in the headlights.

He smiled at my reaction to him. I shook my head and let out a deep breath to clear the cobwebs. “Do you have this effect on all the girls?”

“Most,” he admitted with a tip of his head. “But it’s stronger with you. Maybe that says something.” Maybe. But that didn’t mean it would go anywhere. I was so out of the dating game right now. Nothing but heartache—and I had more important things to worry about. I glanced at my watch and he noticed. “Right. I get it. You have places to be. Like I said, it’s perfect timing … for this.”

He pulled a small box from his pant pocket. It was about the same dimensions as my little seeker car, which I pulled out in response. “Already have one. But thanks for the offer. I would take a body-binding spell charm if you have that one ready.”

He chuckled softly and it made my stomach lurch again. Damn it. “Haven’t had time to work on the binding spell. But you don’t have one of these. Trust me.” Two steps closer and he was about as near as I could stand. Then he opened the box and my entire focus went to the contents, a tiny gold contraption, about the size of a bumblebee, with mesh-covered wings and huge mirrored eyes.

“Ooh! What is that?” I’d honestly never seen anything like it, which said something. I’m a total gadget geek and scour both the consumer electronics and military application shows for new toys. “Can I touch it?”

“Absolutely. I’m hoping you’ll try it out for me. Right now I’m calling it ‘Fly on the Wall,’ but I’m sure marketing will come up with a better name if it holds up in the real world.” He picked it out of the box and handed it to me, then pressed a button on the small metal contraption. “Take a look.”

I was turning the fly around in my hands, but when he held up the box I realized the fly was transmitting high-definition images that could be viewed on the screen at the bottom of the box. One half of the screen was a close-up of my face, while the other displayed a view of the entire room.

“I’d heard that cameras were starting to do fly-eye images, but I’ve never seen one this small or with such sharp focus.”

“Blame that on magic,” he said with a grin that told me he was happy I was impressed. “But that’s only half of it. Watch this.” Taking a tiny bead about the size and color of a BB out of the case, he pressed it against a small plate on the back of the fly and all of a sudden I was holding a real-live horsefly. The feet moved and the head turned and it felt totally like a living bug in my fingers. The images on the screen moved when the head did, and I fully admit that I let out a little girly squeal of delight.

“How cool!”

“We’re not done yet.” Creede sounded like a kid with a new bike as he pulled up a small antenna and joystick combo from the side of the screen. The fly’s wings began to vibrate against my hand. When I let go, it hovered above my palm. The joystick steered the fly around the room, and no matter how abrupt the insect’s movements, the pictures on the screen stayed clear. “It records, too. Want to try it out on your job tonight? It’s a prototype and you have such an … interesting life that I know you can give it a real workout.”

I stared at the screen, totally engrossed. It would be perfect for this job. We could find out exactly where Kevin was in the prison without risking any of our hides. “Um, I’d like to, Creede. But honestly I’m not sure if I … that is, if it will survive the night. It’s going to be a rough job. It’s your only one and that wouldn’t be fair.” I glanced at him and saw that his whole expression had changed.

“Do you need backup?” He was dead serious and I appreciated the offer. He was a powerful mage and I’d seen him in a fight before.

“Probably.” I nodded and sighed. “But it’s not my party.”

He’d been in the security game long enough that he understood what I meant. He directed the fly back to his hand and put it back in the box without a word. I couldn’t help but admire his easy familiarity with it. I knew it wouldn’t work that easy for me. After it was turned off and closed, he forced the container into my palm, making my whole arm tingle nicely. “Take it. It sounds like you’ll need it, and I can make another if need be. In fact—” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a small charm ball with a tiny glass window set into it. “Take this, too.”

I turned it in my free hand curiously. “What is it?”

“This is a magical beacon. If you get into water hot enough you need out, crack the glass with a thumbnail or even your teeth and I’ll show up to help. All of the M and C people have one. Actually,” he said with a smile, “probably a dozen operatives will show up if you break that particular one. It’s keyed to my personal magic. I have more than one employee who will drop everything to save the guy who signs their paychecks.”