All did not feel well here. If something was truly wrong, Brom should be sensing it. Demons were supposed to return to the Dark Side if their summoner died. Any demons here to do Darren’s bidding should be gone. Including the parasitic demon. Cyn headed to Brom’s and took the back way in again, getting no answer when he called Brom’s name. As he entered the house, he saw no sign that the man had been back. But he did see that the ribbons were still fracturing.
A beep caught his attention, and he followed it to an answering machine. The loud deep voice sounded familiar. “Hey, Brom, it’s Jay. I’ve got some elements to try based on the new information you gave me. I’m going out to the edge of the Sanctum’s Field where the Deus Vis is similar to Miami’s to run some experiments. Since that’s in the wilderness, I’ll be out of pocket until tomorrow tonight. Hopefully I’ll have an answer, because if you’re right, we’ve only got until sometime tomorrow to figure this out.”
Jay. Sanctum. Cyn knew exactly who he was, and it made sense that Brom had consulted him again. According to the date and time on the phone, Jay had called this morning. Cyn programmed the number into his phone and headed back to his car, his mind spinning. He needed to find out what Brom had told Jay. And he needed to find Magda and get his hands on whatever was fracturing the Deus Vis. It obviously wasn’t destroyed.
No demons.
Those words flashed in his mind as his feet sank into the sand on the way back to the car. He tried to figure out why it bothered him. No demons should be a good thing. In fact, it had been great that Darren hadn’t summoned any to help during their final altercation. And that’s what bothered Cyn. Someone who could summon demons possessed stronger magick than bubble orbs.
Had they killed Mr. Smith? Cyn needed to find out for sure. His former boss and mentor would be heading to work about now. Maybe Cyn could catch him.
Fernandez was, indeed, walking to his car, wearing his dark blue suit, a travel mug in hand. He was already watching as Cyn’s car pulled down the long drive. No doubt he recognized the car.
Fernandez set his mug on the roof and waited for Cyn to get out and walk over. “Everything all right? No, I’m assuming not, since you’re here. Not to mention that you look like hell.”
They shook hands, and Cyn smiled. “I earned it. I have a question, off the record. What did Mr. Smith look like? A general description will suffice.”
Before Fernandez could say anything, the front door opened, and Celia stepped out. “Cyn! I thought that was your car.” She was still wearing a robe, her complexion pale. “It’s been so long.”
“I’m sorry about that. I wish I had time to visit.”
Her wistful expression tightened his chest. Ward orphans, back before they created institutions for them, were taken in by a Guard officer and his family. Similar to foster care, only there was a solid commitment to raise the child, train him in the Crescent ways, and then push him to join the Guard. When Cyn had quit, he’d had to quit them, too. He couldn’t take the chance of inadvertently revealing the truth about why he left. But he did stop by from time to time and always sent cards and gifts.
She waved away his words. “I can’t anyway. I’ve got the flu.”
The flu. Like all those other Crescents. “Good to see you, Celia. I hope you feel better.”
When Celia closed the door, Fernandez turned his troubled expression back to Cyn. “Smith. He looked older, which means he’s old. Early generation Crescent, I’d guess. White hair and neatly trimmed beard. Distinguished, typical Deuce coolness. Arrogant. You want to tell me what’s going on? Maybe I can help.”
Darren wasn’t Mr. Smith. Which meant Mr. Smith was still alive. Still out there hunting Ruby. Cyn called out, “I have to go,” as he ran to his car. He tried Ruby’s number, but he didn’t expect her to answer if she knew it was him.
He jumped in his car and tore away to the Yard.
Something was forming on the page of the open book in the female Crescent’s living room. The demon watched for a moment, feeling the magick in the book prickle across its skin. A three-headed monster appeared line by line. Very small stick figures were next, standing in front of the looming monster.
Selwig closed the book and searched the living space. It liked going through her things. What joy, tormenting Crescents by moving their things around, punching them in their sleep and creating mystery bruises. But it was not here to have innocent fun; its mission was even more exciting. The demon didn’t like Dragons, having seen his comrades slaughtered by them over the years. Now, fittingly, this demon had been freed from prison to kill one.
A song began to play. Selwig followed the sound to a flat square sitting on the table. The screen read CYN. The song ended. It followed the scent of the woman to the open doorway. She lay sprawled on the bed, naked.
A demon of sin would do other things to her. Being a harbinger was much better, with the ability to take any kind of physical form.
A fire Elemental tried to dart past, but Selwig stomped its foot and stopped the pesky creature. Its gaze flitted to the woman’s sleeping form. Ah, so it meant to warn her. The demon bared its fangs. The Elemental did, too, but it recognized it was way outpowered and backed away.
The woman stirred and rolled to her side. A second later, her eyelashes fluttered open. Selwig took form and approached her.
Chapter 19
Purcell walked into Captain Fernandez’s office, once again without knocking. He pasted on a pleasant expression, even though the dark-haired man scowled at the sight of him.
“Captain,” Purcell said in greeting, closing the door behind him and strolling behind his desk to look out the window.
Fernandez bristled at the invasion of his territory. “What do you want now?”
“Have you noticed that a lot of Crescents are feeling under the weather? You’ve no doubt seen that several of the secretaries’ desks are vacant this morning. Due to the same bug that your wife no doubt has.”
The captain’s desperation and fear was clear. “How did you—”
“Only it’s not a bug. It’s a disruption of the Deus Vis.” Purcell turned, seeing that the man’s hostility was replaced by interest. And fear.
“Already? But we’re just seeing the effects of the smaller flares. We aren’t supposed to feel the big storm they’ve been hyping up on the news for another day or so. The Concilium advised the Guard and our medical staff that Crescents might feel more than the usual ruffle of the Deus Vis, but nothing severe.”
“That’s what they’re telling you. I am willing to share the truth under the confidentiality of the Guard’s Silence Credo.”
“You’re not Guard.”
“Details.” Purcell smiled. “Call in your secretary. I overheard her telling one of the other ladies that she was going home after lunch.”
While he did, Purcell pulled out a cloth from his pocket that held the small prototype.
Marie came in, her complexion pale, eyes dull. Hardly a flame flickered in her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she said, her voice lackluster, too.
Purcell flicked on the reactor and took her hand in his. “Dear, you look positively ill.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t touch me. I’m…” She blinked. “Sick. Or was sick. That’s weird. I feel better.” The color was returning to her face. “You’re a healer?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Purcell said.
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She turned to Fernandez. “The open cases summary is almost done. I’ll start working on the expense reports.” She spun and left, closing the door behind her.