AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Friend or foe?” I whispered.
Menolly shrugged and tapped Vanzir on the shoulder. “You recognize those skanks?”
He squinted at them for a moment, then shook his head as we trudged down to the door. “No. Once we’re inside, I’ll sneak out the back and veer back around through the alley. If they’re still there, I’ll get a better look at them.”
“I’ll come with,” Menolly said. “I’m fast, I’m silent, and I’m deadly.”
“I may not be as fast or as silent, but I’ll bet you anything I’m just as fatal as you, girl.” Vanzir gave her a slow wink.
Menolly let out a little snort. Hmm . . . what was this? Vanzir and Menolly flirting? I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask, though. What fucking a demon was like—not Morio’s kind, but a real Sub Realms badass demon—wasn’t top of my need-to-know list. Especially after seeing Vanzir at work. Those tentacles shooting out of his hands were freaky.
As we knocked, the silence thickened. Then the door swung open. A lovely young woman stood there, holding it wide. Half-Chinese, half-demon, she was Carter’s foster daughter. He’d saved her from life as a slave in the Sub Realms. She was also mute, and served him silently. He took good care of her and they lived a quiet, unassuming life smack in the heart of Seattle.
Carter was also unassuming, if you looked past the horns on his head that curved back, regal and highly polished. His hair was the same color as Menolly’s—brilliant copper, only cut short in a deliberately disheveled shag.
The demon had a limp and wore a brace on his right knee, though he’d never told us how he’d been injured. But Carter had money. He ran an Internet research business as his cover. He kept watch over the demonic activity in Seattle, recording everything he saw or heard. A living well of local supernatural history, he straddled a fine line, doing business with us, doing business with some demons, and trying to keep under Shadow Wing’s radar.
“Come in, come in,” he said, waving us into the living room, then turned to Kim. “My dear, bring us some tea, please. And a good port, and a cheese plate, please?” With a glance at Menolly, he added, “And a goblet of warm blood for the vampyr.”
The girl gave him a gentle bob, almost a curtsy but not quite, and silently slipped out of the room.
“Sit, please. Everyone.”
He moved over to his desk—a mammoth oak affair—and returned with a file folder and a sheaf of papers, which he handed to Vanzir, who took one, then passed them on. I glanced at the blank papers when the stack came my way. Carter had made enough for everyone and I took several for the others at home.
“I take it this is password protected?” I asked.
He nodded. “The keyword is rutabaga.”
“Rutabaga?” Menolly cocked her head, glancing at him.
Carter grinned. “Would that be the first word you’d think of when trying to view a demonically sealed document? You want me to change it to open sesame perhaps?”
With a snort, she shook her head. “You’re okay, Carter.”
As I whispered the word, writing appeared on the paper—notes about Stacia Bonecrusher, and a map of directions to her safe house. Her house happened to be an elaborate mansion according to the printout picture, located in one of the wealthier suburbs on the Eastside.
“That figures. She lives over in Redmond, near Marymoor Park. No wonder we couldn’t get a bead on her here in Seattle.”
“Close to Bill Gates,” Morio said.
“No, that’s Mercer Island. But he’s no demon, regardless of what people think.” A smile played over Carter’s lips. “Stacia Bonecrusher lives in a secure compound. From the street, it may look like a swanky gated mansion, but don’t be fooled. The place has top-level security and I’m pretty sure she’s got a number of demons hiding there.”
“Speaking of,” Vanzir said. “There are a couple of skanky streetwalkers we pegged as Demonkin as we headed in here. I should sneak out the back way and see if they’re still there. I don’t think they’re part of the demonic underground here, so there may be a chance they’re working for the Bonecrusher.”
“They are,” Carter said. “I know who you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything about them because I don’t want to raise suspicion. As long as I ignore them, they won’t go into hiding and I’ll know where they’re at.”
I stopped Vanzir as he stood. “Carter has a point. If we tip our hand, we could make everything worse. Leave them alone, but make sure we check our cars for booby traps or bugs—”
“Not necessary,” Carter said. “When they first showed up, I decided I needed a little more protection than the barrier spell I have out there, so I summoned an imp to keep watch. They try to do anything, all hell breaks loose.”
“Great, just what we need. An imp. Let’s get on with this.” As I glanced over the paper, I stopped short. Stacia Bonecrusher was a necromancer, and a powerful one at that. Carter’s notes listed her as training under Telazhar. “Holy hell, this is bad.”
Menolly heard me; she looked up and nodded. “Telazhar must be working for Shadow Wing, then.”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “He swore never to bow to another, but that he’s still alive after all these centuries and that he’s training Demonkin is one big-ass sign to beware and be careful.”
Morio shook his head. “Who is he? I’ve never heard of him.”
