Unless they cleaned up after themselves, it wouldn’t take long for someone to come across the summoning circle. That would be when they’d get their best information, their best leads. If she could figure out who summoned the demon and why, she’d be able to find it. “Find out what the vic is for sure. If he’s not fae, start canvassing for the new host.”
Jeremiah ran a hand over his bald head. He was a fire elemental and the natural heat of his body kept hair from growing anywhere on it. He didn’t even have eyelashes. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
“I told you, I’m no good with demons.”
“You’ve got the best record against them of anyone in the Agency.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” She’d faced exactly two demons. The past incident hadn’t ended well for her or the host.
He grinned and white teeth flashed against red skin.
She shook her head. “Not that you need me telling you how to do your job, but I assume you have underlings out looking for witnesses?”
“Not that you need me telling you how to do yours, but you should have asked that as soon as you arrived,” he chastised. “And yes. They’re out. For all the good it will do. We’re in the middle of a commercial and industrial area. No one ever sees anything anyway.”
“I’m going home. Let me know when there’s something to hunt.” She stepped out of the warehouse and into the rain. More mist than drops now, it made her shiver when it hit her skin. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and let the moisture coat her face. It’d been a hell of a night.
For the moment she’d done all she could by identifying the perp as a demon and naming a possible species for the current host. If anything else turned up, Jeremiah would let her know. The skin at the base of her spine tingled. Someone was watching. She ran a hand over her face and flung the moisture away before straddling her bike. After a discreet adjustment of the mirrors, she could look behind her without being obvious. A small figure crouched at the edge of a roof. Her gift was still on but she saw no signature, not even a faint one. “Great fricking canvas, guys.”
She pulled out her phone and called Jeremiah. “Stroll out here and have a word with me for a moment.” She kept one eye on the figure in the mirror as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. It didn’t take long for Jeremiah to step outside, his shoulders hunched against the cold mist.
He hurried over, keeping his head down.
“We’ve got company,” she said. “Behind me to the right. On the roof.”
“Spectator?”
“Think I’d call you out here for that? Unless it’s got an extremely weak signature I can’t pick up from here, I’d say it’s our demon.”
He frowned. “Why is it still here? Kill’s done. What does it want?”
“Why don’t I go ask it? You know the drill. I’ll go up, make contact. You get a perimeter set up on the ground.”
He pressed something into her palm before stepping away. She glanced down to find a clip in her hand. “Blessed ammo,” he said with a crooked grin.
She patted the side of the bike. “Drop me off at the alley.”
The Ducati purred to life beneath her. After making a slow u-turn, it sped down the street stopping at the opening of the narrow alley between the buildings so she could hop off. The bike disappeared from view, and she found herself wishing she was still on the back of it. She’d see it at home later. The darkness enveloped her as she made her way for the door at the far end of the alley. Leaning against the wall beside it, she replaced the clip in her gun.
Regardless of what she’d told Jeremiah, she hoped to find a gawker with a weak signature. Then she could go home and go back to bed. Without her blade, she was ill equipped to handle anything but a low-level demon. Unfortunately, she left it in the armory when she returned from the troll hunt, too tired to clean and sharpen it herself as she usually did. She sincerely hoped her laziness didn’t come back to bite her in the ass.
The small door didn’t budge when she tugged on the handle. She ran her fingers over the lock. “Open.”
The click of the mechanism echoed through the alleyway. She eased the door open and stepped inside. Soft lights illuminated the hallway, giving her just enough light to see and casting just enough shadow for something sinister to hide in. She listened for any sound to indicate she wasn’t alone. Nothing.
Stairs ascended into the darkness at the end of the hallway. She kept her back to the wall as she eased toward them, checking doors as she passed. All locked. She wasn’t going to take the time to unlock and search rooms. Her target would vanish from the roof long before she arrived if she stopped to check every office on the way up. She continued to scan for signatures with her gift.
She reached the stairs and started up, ignoring the paranoia that swamped her at leaving her back exposed to the blackness below. She was too old to be afraid of the dark, or at least too old to admit to it. At every landing, she paused to listen for any sound. Nothing but her own breathing reached her ears. When she reached the access door for the roof, she ran her fingers over the lock, willed it to let her pass.
She opened the door trying to make as little noise as possible and quickly realized she needn’t have bothered.
An insect-like fae with skin the color of moss sat cross-legged in the middle of the roof watching the door. Small in stature, almost the size of a child, the fae possessed a set of four emerald green wings. It lacked any sort of signature.
The door shut behind Juliana and she took a deep breath. Cinder and ashes. Fear settled in her belly like a lead weight.
“Hello, Hound,” the fae said in a tinny, high-pitched voice. Their prey often called them hounds, stripping the respect the title Walker commanded. The creature smiled, flashing sharp teeth. Definitely dark fae.
“Demon,” she returned the greeting, wishing her nerves were as calm as her voice. She kept the gun pointed at the fae’s head. “Don’t suppose you want to come out of there? Go back to where you came from?”
The demon laughed, deep and rich, a sound at complete odds with the voice. “You’re funny. I like you.”
“Oh, goody.” She shifted her aim from the head to the torso. They always tried to save the host, but usually couldn’t keep from injuring them in some manner. Acceptable collateral damage according to the Agency. If she inflicted enough pain maybe she could get the demon to leave the host. She fired three shots without warning. Only the first hit the target. The rest sliced through empty air as the demon jumped to the roof of the next building.
She bit back a curse as she followed, dropping to her knees with a grunt when she hit. Scrambling to her feet, she regained her aim on the demon.
It moved to the ledge on the far side of the roof. Green blood dripped from the bullet wound in its chest. It grinned, flashing pointed teeth. “Very good, Juliana Norris. You may prove a worthy opponent after all. But you really should learn to pay more attention.”
A blur of motion shot toward her from the right and she swung her weapon in that direction. Flames of pain burned through her arm as massive claws struck it, ripping into flesh and the muscle beneath. With a yell, she fell to her knees. She dropped her gun into her left hand, twisted, and fired off the rest of her clip in the direction of the blur.
Dull thuds told her several of the bullets hit their target. A howl cut through the air and made her hair stand on end. A werewolf bounded over to stand beside the fae. A werewolf that looked familiar aside from his complete lack of signature. Nathaniel. Her chest tightened and her stomach dropped. Two demons working together and one of them rode her friend. Her night just kept getting better.