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He leaned back and gave me what looked suspiciously like a friendly smile. “Well, why don’t you air them out? Sometimes these kinds of brainstorming sessions can really open up some new avenues of thinking.”
That was Fed-speak for, Tell me everything you know.
Like hell, darlin, I thought. But maybe I could air out a few allusions. “Well, I think he’s … um, attempting to do something arcane. Or what he thinks would be arcane.”
He gave a grave nod. “So, some sort of death magic? A ritual of some sort?”
I watched him carefully. “Yeah. Something along those lines.”
“Perhaps some way to gain some sort of influence or power?”
I could feel my eyes narrowing, and I had to force my face to relax. “Sure. Why make the effort otherwise? It has to be worth doing all of the torture and murder.”
He nodded again. “Perhaps to summon some kind of arcane creature.” He flicked a glance at me. “I mean, he could be operating under the belief that he could do that sort of thing.”
“Right.” This was getting strange. “An arcane creature that would require a great deal of death magic to hold and control.”
“Maybe some sort of demon?” He tilted his head and shrugged.
An odd buzz of excitement ran through me. “Yes. That makes a lot of sense. I think he’s … I mean, I think he thinks he’s going to try to summon a demon.” I watched him closely for his reaction. To my surprise, he didn’t flinch or twitch.
“I’m inclined to agree,” he said instead.
“You do?”
“Yes. He could be planning to summon a demon.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
I blinked at him, thoughts churning until I remembered what my captain had said about Agent Kristoff being involved in a ritual-murder task force. Okay, so this line of thinking isn’t totally bizarre to him, I thought, oddly relieved. He’s probably thinking a demon-from-hell kind of demon, but at least he’s open to the general idea. “Right. He … um, believes that he’s gathering power, using the torture and the prolonged deaths, and especially the blood. I think he’s going to try to summon a—” I stopped. I’d been about to say, “higher demon,” but I suddenly knew that wasn’t right. Even an unwilling reyza wouldn’t explain the need for murders, the gathering of that much potency. A chill crept through me. “He’s planning to summon a lord,” I breathed. “A Demonic Lord. That makes perfect sense. This has been going on for almost a decade, and that’s probably how long a preparation for that kind of summoning would take if the summoner wanted to avoid being ripped to shreds….” I trailed off and looked up at Agent Kristoff. Had I really just said all that? Out loud? Shit. “I mean, that’s what he thinks. I think. I mean, you know, that he thinks he can call up a Demonic Lord.” Shit.
“That makes sense,” he said, voice intense and quiet. I stared at him in shock, but for the life of me I couldn’t see anything in his expression or demeanor that indicated he was toying with me or teasing me.
“Excuse me?”
His eyes were steady on mine. “You were sketching runes, weren’t you? By the body.”
My throat felt oddly dry. “Are you really an agent?”
“Could I see your sketches, please? I wasn’t able to see them very well at the scene.”
I just stared at him. “No, really. Who are you?”
His mouth twitched. “I’m really an agent. I swear. I just have … well, my grandmother always called it ‘othersight.’ It’s not very strong, but it’s helped me out on a few cases. And that’s why I tend to get assigned to anything that they think might be ‘satanic’ or the like.” He rolled his eyes and I smiled, surprised and pleased.
I hesitated several more heartbeats, then opened my notebook to the page with my sketches and pushed it over to him. He examined them carefully, chewing his bottom lip in a fashion that was very un-Fedlike. After several moments he looked up at me. “I think your othersight is a lot stronger than mine,” he said, without a hint of rancor or jealousy.
I shrugged. Don’t relax too much, I reminded myself. just because he understands you doesn’t mean he won’t screw you over later.
“So, what are these runes? I don’t recognize them,” he said with a touch of chagrin in his voice.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’m going to have to ask someone who knows more than I do.”
He gave me a crisp nod. “I’d appreciate it if you could let me know as soon as you learn anything.” He handed my notebook back to me. “And thank you for trusting me,” he said as I took the notebook back. His smile was genuine as far as I could tell.
I gave him a careful smile in return. “Just don’t make me regret it.”
My cell phone rang as I was walking out to my car, with Dr. Lanza’s name on the caller ID. “Hiya, Doc,” I said as I answered the phone. “Where’d ya find it? You did find it, right?”
“Kara,” Doc said, voice strangely rough, “I’ve been a forensic pathologist for almost fifteen years, I’ve done over five thousand autopsies, but I’ve never ever seen anything like this.”
