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She sagged against me, eyes fluttering. “Kara?”
“The one and only.” I carefully eased her to the ground then glanced toward Eilahn. “Where the hell is Steeev?” I hissed.
“Here,” he said, standing demon-still only a few paces behind me. Had he been there the whole time? If so, why hadn’t he intervened?
Jill sat up straighter. “How did I get out here?”
“That’s what inquiring minds want to know,” I said. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
The whine of the valve deepened to a thrum, and the ground shuddered—a not-so-subtle reminder that there was work yet to be done. Steeev crouched beside us, scooped Jill into his arms and stood smoothly. “I will care for her,” he said.
My questions clamored for answers, but this wasn’t the time. Jill’s eyes drifted closed, and her head lolled against Steeev’s shoulder as he turned and strode toward the path. I watched until they disappeared between the trees, then dropped to my knees beside the unstable valve and got to work.
• • •
Even with Eilahn’s help, it took over an hour to get the damaged border back to smooth coils and a blue-green glow. Mostly. An occasional flicker of orange remained, but I’d exceeded the limits of my knowledge, skills, and stamina. It didn’t help that odd percussion waves distracted me while I worked, as someone else tampered with the valve system either on Earth or in the demon realm. I had no way to tell if they were stabilizing a valve or cocking it up. One thing was clear: I was out of my depth when it came to valve repair.
Weary beyond measure, I dissipated my support sigils then went stock still. Rhyzkahl. His aura swept over me—so eerily strong that I had to look around, pulse hammering even as my eyes confirmed he wasn’t there with me. In the next breath the feel of his aura faded, leaving me wondering if I’d imagined it. Still, another dozen seconds passed before my heartbeat returned to normal.
Jill’s words whispered back to me. Rhyzkahl cries for you. Had she felt the same thing?
Pushing the weirdness from my mind, I closed down my work then collapsed, sweaty and exhausted, beside the valve. Sometime later Eilahn prodded me up, and as we walked back to the house she gave me a status update on the now-sleeping Jill. The last thing Jill remembered before she “woke up” at the pond was walking out the front door after my phone rang. Moreover, Steeev reported that he’d sensed nothing of Jill leaving the porch and going to the woods—which was, according to Eilahn, impossible. Wonderful.
Eilahn saw me to the back porch then headed to her nest. I flopped on the chaise lounge and considered the incident with the valve. As with any complex network, screwing around with one part affected everything else as well. When the four Mraztur came through the valve node at the Farouche Plantation, it fucked everything up. No way was mine the only valve at risk of destabilization. Clearly, I needed to check the known valves and add preemptive reinforcement. The gigantic hitch in that plan was the pesky fact that working on one little valve had kicked my ass—and at least half of what I’d done was guesswork. Not to mention, I doubted I’d be efficient since didn’t know enough about valves and how they worked.
But I knew someone who did.
Idris Palatino. An undeniably brilliant summoner, a friend, and—unbeknownst to him—my cousin. He’d spent the last several months as a captive of the Mraztur, forced to work closely with my nemesis, Isumo Katashi, toward the Mraztur’s ultimate goal of establishing a permanent gateway between Earth and the demon realm. Our rescue of Idris had set our opponents back, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe they’d given up. Maybe Idris had recovered enough for Mzatal to send him here? That would be ideal.
I closed my eyes and listened to the familiar sound of the breeze through the pine needles, the croak of frogs, and the chirp of sparrows. Mzatal. He had his hands full in the demon realm with the disastrous arcane disruptions triggered by the plantation explosion, and I’d planned to delay summoning him for a few more days in the hopes that he’d be less slammed. Unfortunately, the valve issue and Jill’s escapade required immediate attention.
I mentally reached for Mzatal. We shared a profound etheric connection beyond anything comparable on Earth—like a merging of essence beyond time, thought, and space. We still had plenty of disagreements, but we were good for each other.
Were. A familiar blanket of sadness settled over me as I reached for him and sensed only a wispy touch. He’d withdrawn mentally and emotionally in order to forestall another catastrophic flare of fury like the one that had occurred during the plantation raid. Only a tiny chink remained in his self-made walls, enough for a precious thread of lifeline between us. As I touched it, I sent the impression that I was ever here for him followed by the more practical message that I intended to summon him tonight. I doubted anything beyond a faint sense of my presence got through, but I tossed in, We need Idris on Earth, just in case. Couldn’t hurt to try.
An angry hiss beside my head startled me out of my relaxed state, and it took a second for my brain to catch up with the fight-or-flight pounding of my heart. Fuzzykins. She stood on the porch railing by my head with her back arched and fur on end and gave me another heartfelt hiss.
“Really?” I said after a quick scan to see if there was anything wrong besides my presence. “You came out here just to hiss at me?”
The stupid cat sat and groomed her tail as though I didn’t exist.
Muttering something about worthless, ungrateful beasts, I stood and stretched until my joints popped. Unless I wanted to trash the summoning of Mzatal tonight, I needed a nap.
I stumbled into the house but paused by the open door of the laundry room. A nest of soft blankets held a pile of sleeping kittens—and Mama Fuzzykins was still on the back porch. Smiling, I gently extracted Fillion from his siblings and snuggled him to my cheek. The kitten wasn’t old enough to know it was supposed to hate all summoners.
Fillion and I snuggled into my bed, and the next thing I knew the dubious harmony of ringing phone and mewing kitten hauled me out of a deep sleep. I fumbled for the phone, squinted at the too bright screen before hitting the answer button. “Hey, Pellini.” I croaked.
“It’s only seven thirty,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep yet.”
“Life of leisure and all that.” I sat up and put the kitten on my lap.
“How about one p.m. for the plantation?”
“How about you tell me why you need me to go out there with you?”
“I don’t need you,” he said, “but with the kidnapping, murder, and rape charges on Farouche’s people, I think there might be a connection to the Palatino-Gavin murder case.”
Idris’s sister. The body in the semi-trailer. Damn. Pellini was actually sniffing down the right trail—one that led straight to my doorstep. I needed to keep a sharp eye on that. “And since my task force is attached to both cases, you want my input.”
