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After Ryan left, I allowed myself to wallow in sobbing misery for more than an hour, then drove home, feeling as if something had let go. I don’t need his approval, I’d thought with a combination of anger and misery. Besides, who the fuck was he to preach to me about the dangers of dealing with demons?
I crawled into bed and slept like the dead for nearly four hours, then woke just as the sun was dipping below the tops of the trees that surrounded my house. I had more than enough time to prepare for a summoning. It wasn’t a full moon, but that was the whole point.
I went through the protocols of the summoning carefully, but with a fluid ease that was gratifying. And when the time came to pull potency from the storage diagram, the power flowed into my control with a sweet and smooth surge, easily channeled into the ritual.
“Rhyzkahl.” His name filled the room as I held the portal open. I’d shaped this summoning as more of a call than a command—something that would normally have been wildly dangerous, but I was confident that Rhyzkahl would not seek retribution. Not when he’d already made it clear that he wanted further access to this sphere.
I felt the surge of power that indicated that something had come through the portal, and I invoked the bindings—more as a protection in the event that something other than Rhyzkahl had come through than for protection against the demonic lord. I knew too well that I didn’t have the means to hold him.
The portal closed and Rhyzkahl straightened, a smile playing on his beautiful face as I released the bindings and wards. I didn’t say anything, just stood beyond the edge of the diagram and waited. His eyes traveled over me and then—as expected—flicked to the storage diagram.
He let out a low laugh. “Very clever, dear one. Your moon is waning, and here you are with a demonic lord at your beck and call.”
The last was a gibe, I knew, especially since I’d been punished before for assuming that I could get the lord to serve me. I inclined my head. “I have no right to expect you to be at my beck and call, my lord.”
He stepped out of the diagram and over to me, putting a hand beneath my chin and tipping my head up. “You are more rested, I see.”
“I would not wish to squander your gift, my lord.”
He dropped his hand and laughed. “Please dispense with this obeisance, Kara. It does not suit you.” He walked past me to the table in front of the cold fireplace, then turned to look back at me. “I am more pleased than you can know that you have discovered a way to circumvent the constraints of your dependence on the lunar cycle.”>“Why not? I would think that they’d want to see Roth taken down.”
His face twisted in annoyance and frustration. “They did. But they also wanted significant financial restitution, and fairly soon. Sam was pretty ill, and the medical bills were crushing them. They weren’t happy when we had to tell them that there was no guarantee that restitution would happen and, even if it did, it might take years. That sort of thing is completely out of our control.”
I groaned. “So they resorted to blackmail.”
His expression darkened. “That’s our best guess.”
I looked at him for several heartbeats. “Whoever killed them is also our essence-eater. But you’re not convinced that it was Roth who pulled the trigger, are you?”
He shook his head. “Judge Roth isn’t the only one who stood to lose if the corruption was exposed and not the only one in a position to be blackmailed. People who worked with him, campaign contributors, business associates … If we can ever get a break on this case, it’s going to be a pretty massive shitstorm.”
“Welcome to Louisiana politics,” I muttered.
“It’s a fucking spectator sport down here, isn’t it?” Ryan took another bite of taco. “All right, let’s keep going with the brainstorming. We also have the fact that Elena Sharp pressed charges twice against her husband for domestic violence and dropped them twice.”
I had to grimace. That one I knew about. “Unfortunately, that’s not all that uncommon. I can’t count the number of times I’ve done the paperwork to put some jerk-off in jail, only to have the wife or girlfriend—or boyfriend—come down and bail said jerk-off out.”
His mouth twisted. “All the time professing their undying love, right?”
“Something like that.”
“Did Elena Sharp strike you as that type?”
“Not really. I mean, not the undying love part, at least. Unless it was undying love of the lifestyle that she didn’t want to give up.” I rolled my eyes. “To add to the fun, there’s a rumor floating around that she was having an affair of her own—with our dear Judge Roth—and that Davis Sharp threw her out.” I gave a shrug. “But my source was a Cardio Barbie in the locker room at the gym, so who knows how reliable the information was.”
“Would that explain why she filed for divorce?” Ryan pointed out.
“I don’t think so. She enjoyed being married to money. Why would she leave that to be Roth’s mistress? She was afraid of something … or someone—so much so that she was willing to leave her comfy lifestyle.”
“Maybe Davis wanted the divorce and had someone pressure her.”
“Possible. Let’s write it all down.”
“I am, I am.” He set the pen down after a moment and pushed the pad to me. “So. Connected?”
I looked down, then looked up. “I have no fucking idea. I can’t read your writing.”
He let out a snort. “Well, you’ve got three of the Roths connected.”
