Chapter Eight

The Deceased Demonologist

 

 

So the problem with contacting Lain’s friend was that he wasn’t exactly among the living.

This exposure to the supernatural world was definitely a learning experience. Vampires, witches, and dead demonologists...all so we could find a secret society in another dimension. Five years ago, I’d have laughed my ass off at the knowledge I’d be spending my “vacation” doing this.

Someone came by the office to fix the front door, and the other detective stayed to ensure everything was locked up afterward. The four of us headed out to Lain’s bright red Mustang convertible out front. No wonder she didn’t think I could afford her. The car was definitely vintage—late sixties, maybe—and after Ellie remarked on the newness of it, I was put under the impression that she went through a lot of vehicles.

Welcome to lifestyles of the rich and famous. And apparently my dead sister was just like this vampire—more money than dirt. I had a decent job back in Osaka, as did Ken, so it’s not like my kids ever suffered, but still...still, it would have been nice if I’d had more money to try to protect them. Apparently that didn’t work for my sister, but I liked to think that if I’d had the cash, I would have found a way to keep them safe.

Ryann kept three feet of space between her boyfriend and Lain and me at all times, and made me wait to sit in the front seat while she and the boy got in. I didn’t think it was just ’cause I’d held a knife to his throat, but went along with it anyway. Lain drove us to her apartment south of the city, in the harbour district. It was an old brick building—factory by my guess—all converted and fixed up to a swanky apartment complex. I’d give the vampire points for style—she didn’t go for a lame mansion or anything, but something urban and classy. Ryann and Rhys seemed to have been there before, so I followed the other three as they walked from the underground parking lot and toward an elevator. The industrial elevator was huge and made alarming noises as it traveled up the shaft. It took us to the top, of course, because the vampire would likely never live on the bottom floor. I was actually kinda thankful it wasn’t a crypt.

The interior was as Lain’s presence suggested: high end without being flashy, and deceptively simple. The brick interior had to be the original bones of the building, complete with support beams. A loft lay to the right, walls newer and made of drywall. I took it all in swiftly while trying to keep an eye on my companions; everything was new and with me on my own, I had to keep on top of my game, brain spinning to prepare in case something went awry.

Lights burned in the main part of the open concept apartment from contemporary floor lamps already on before the elevator door opened, suggesting someone was home. That assessment turned out to be true when I saw a blonde, white chick, a couple years younger than me, waiting on the couch.

“Did you bring take-out this time?” she said with what sounded like a French accent around the edges, eyeing Ryann and Ellie. I didn’t think she’d seen me yet.

“Kinda busy, Nic,” Lain said.

“If you’re going to invite over humans, you should make sure they have something to eat besides crackers.”

“You guys still have crackers?” Rhys asked.

Nic rolled her large eyes. “No, we’re out of those too. I told her I could get groceries delivered, but—”

Lain was fraying, from the twitching in her jaw to the irritated tapping of her feet. “But I don’t like houseguests. If you’re gonna lecture, find your own place and do it there, away from me. Jesus, you’re like a fucking college student who won’t leave home.”

The blonde, Nic, parted her lips to say something else, then her gaze trailed past the others and settled on mine.

“This is a business meeting anyway,” Lain continued. “They’re not staying for food.” She swung around to wave her finger at me. “And shut the fuck up if you are hungry—you should’ve picked up a meal before starting this.” Twisting away from me dismissively, she gestured for Ryann to follow her and the two of them went to the kitchen to talk. Rhys followed, taking a detour for the cupboard to probably hunt down a substitute for crackers.

The blonde stood and walked around the couch, steps cautious as her gaze flickered Lain’s way once before returning to mine. She was a few inches taller than me but I felt like a dwarf in comparison; Nic was rail thin and built like a boy, wearing cargo pants and a T-shirt that did nothing for her. Her face was pretty and feminine, with a slightly upturned nose and big blue eyes. Blonde hair was a stylish mess, curling around her jaw while other strands flipped upward.

She grinned widely, her smile putting me at ease. “You were the one looking for Zara?”

You are a suicidal quarter-demon—you will not be done in by the friendly waif. Even my internal voice didn’t help, though—I just couldn’t picture this chick trying to kill me. “News travels fast around here.”

Nic shrugged. “We have security in place. Zara has a special arrangement with the detective agency. Normally Ry can handle trouble, but if it looks bad, they alert us and Zar heads there to help out. First time they’ve had to use it, though—you must be a troublemaker.”

“Some would say that.” Others would call—and have called—me a psychotic bitch.

She inched forward, glanced at the vampire and her friends again, then returned her attention to me. “Am I to be privy to what you’re here for?”

“Looking for information on some people and Lain was my only lead.”

“Ah. Well, Zara does know a lot of people. Forgets half of them, though—that’s why I’m here.”

“And you are...?”

“Nicolette Levesque.” She offered me her hand.

Strange, I wasn’t used to such a gesture. I felt compelled to be respectful, however, so I clasped her warm hand in mine and bowed, slightly. Old habits do indeed die hard.

“I’m sort of Zara’s secretary,” she continued as I released her fingers. “I keep my ear to the ground for any rumblings in the supernatural world—gossip and the like—and arrange her contracts for her.”

“Contracts?”

“On people’s lives. She’s an assassin.”

I wish I had a cool title like “assassin.” Instead, I was referred to as a “field agent” which sometimes meant killing people, but didn’t seem as glamorous. “Are vampires often in need of secretaries?”

“Probably not—I don’t need one. But Zara isn’t like the rest of us. She needs special bottled water and assistants to take messages for her.”

“I heard that,” Lain called.

“So you’re a vampire too?” Christ, weren’t there any normal humans left?

Nic nodded. “And you are?”

“Quarter-demon.”

She grinned. “I meant your name.”

“Ah. Peri Takata.”

“And who are you looking for? Maybe I know them?”

“Doubt that. I’m trying to find a secret society.”

“She’s Lo’s daughter,” Lain hollered. Shit, the bitch must’ve had good hearing because Ryann and Elliot were both talking to her while she was listening in on my conversation with Nic. Probably a vampire thing.

“Lo as in your friend Mishka’s father?”

Lain turned, fixing Nic with an impatient glare. “How many other Lords of Oblivion are there, that you know of?” When Nicolette didn’t answer, Lain spun around again.

Nic took a few steps forward and I backed up as to not be bowled over by her. “She’s in a mood,” she whispered. Lain probably heard that too, but didn’t comment. “So...” She drew out the word and hesitated. Something hovered beneath her surface—something pained. It drew me like a magnet—something I recognized right away, though I tried to steel myself.

“So?”

“You’re looking for the Veil?”

I blinked. “The what now?”

Heels clicked on the hardwood, steps rapidly approaching, and suddenly Lain was there, a foot away, facing both of us. Her blue eyes locked on Nicolette. “What. The. Fuck?”

I glanced at each of them. “What’s the Veil?” When no one answered, I tipped my head to look past Lain; Elliot and Ryann were still back in the kitchen but peered our way, equally confused.

“That would be the name of your secret society.” Lain hadn’t stopped glaring at Nic.

The blonde vampire, to her credit, didn’t blush or look the least bit guilty; her attention was still fixed on me. “Which Zara has been trying to follow up on in secret and I’ve let the cat out of the proverbial bag, and she’s going to threaten to stake me now.”

“I’m not going to threaten. You’ve lost the privilege of a warning.”

Anger prickled through me and my hands clenched into fists. In the back of my mind magic hummed, beckoned, and it took all of my strength just to hold it the fuck together. “So you do know more about it. Anything else you’re not telling me?”

“Oh,” Lain gave me a dangerous, glittering smile, “there are plenty of things.” Then the bitch turned her back on me to return to Elliot and Ryann.

Nic pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb, muttering something in French.

Whatever that means. “The Veil?”

“We think that’s the name,” Nic said with a sigh as she dropped her hand and straightened. Her sunny smile was much dimmer this time, but she tried. “Part of their name, at least. Either that or there’s another super secretive society. Which I suppose is possible.”

Delarosa had suggested as much, but Lain was probably onto something—chick was a lot of things, but not an idiot.

“Our guess is that they’re bad,” she continued. “Our very own Secret Society of Super Villains...or like the Sith.”

I had no fucking clue what she was going about.

“Why are you looking for them?” she asked.

Here we go again. “The guy who wanted to get in with them a bunch of years ago and killed people?”

She nodded.

“He killed my family.”

Her already pale skin went whiter. I braced for it—for the sympathetic, “I’m so sorry” or a pat on the shoulder or some bullshit like that. Tension worked through every inch of me, just waiting.

Instead she nodded. “I understand.”

Huh. Wasn’t expecting that. I was still wrapping my head around it when she turned to Lain.

“Where are we starting?” she called.

“With Peter,” Lain said without glancing her way. “Of course.”

Nicolette raked her hands back through her hair and somehow even more tousled it still looked professionally done. Her lips parted for a moment before she spoke, and then her voice was weighted and grave. “I’m in.”

Lain met her gaze. “This is gonna get ugly. In fact, it’s gonna get downright fugly. I don’t mind if you want to sit this one out. El and Ry will probably join you ’cause we both know they’re lightweights.”

“I’ll help with brainstorming,” Ellie said. “I’m really good at that.” The secretary elbowed him in the side.

“Yeah, when you’re not drunk,” Lain said with a roll of her eyes.

“Speaking of, where’s your whiskey?”

“Under the sink.”

“I’m in,” Nicolette repeated. She turned her gaze to me and tipped her head in a nod. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”

Something about this was personal, but I didn’t ask what. Glad to have help I didn’t need to beg for first, I nodded. “Well, right now we’re having a séance. Up for that?”

“Oui.” She took two steps closer until we were inches apart, then glanced in the direction of the others. Her voice went low. “You’ll need the help. Ry will try to pull the plug on this pretty quickly.”

“What’s the problem?” Like I cared.

“Ellie’s a special kind of psychic. He connects with people involved in violent crimes—both killers and victims. It causes him a lot of pain.”

“Emotional or physical?”

“Both, though I’d add psychological to that too. He usually drinks a large amount during readings just to stay sane. Ryann—his girlfriend, in case they didn’t tell you—gets worried about him.”

Very, very handy having someone to give me the lay of the land.

“You know, we could put off contacting Peter ’til next week,” Lain called. “If you two would rather chat like a couple of gossiping schoolgirls, that’s fine with me. I do have a job.”

I thought a vampire would have a bit more patience, what with being immortal and all, but I was wrong on that count too. Besides, she was right. No time for small talk—I had better things to do. My guard went back up—it was pretty far down for some reason, and damn that blonde vamp for putting me at ease—and I approached the others.

Ryann stood off to the side, watching in silence as Rhys took a seat in the middle of the floor, three feet from the couch. Lain sat next to him. Whatever the Demon Hunter’s problem was, it went deeper than her boyfriend doing some medium work for us—she wouldn’t take part in the séance either. Nicolette and I completed the circle on the floor.

Nic leaned over to breathe in my ear, “Ex-nun.” Her blue gaze darted to Ryann.

“Thought she was a Demon Hunter?” I whispered back.

“Venatores Daemonum,” she said, as if that should mean something.

“Nic,” Lain snapped. “Do I need to cut your tongue out?”

I didn’t know if it was that sort-of conscience of mine again or just irritation that my only source of info was being shut down, but some burny, guilt-ish kind of thing tripped me up as Nic dropped her gaze and looked away. What the fuck was Lain’s problem? Could she actually share Ryann’s concern for Rhys? Perhaps she worried about risking his mind as well.

Fuck, I almost missed Bravo Division. At least they were all business.

My gaze locked on Rhys as he took swigs straight from the bottle of whiskey he’d pulled from Lain’s cupboard. I hadn’t been to a séance before—never even considered that kind of thing. It was amazing how much a quarter-demon wasn’t aware of. I wondered if all mediums drank like an Irish fish.

Something tickled the back of mind even as I shoved against it—knowing I was near a medium, someone who could supposedly contact the dead. Kenjiro. My twins. They died violently—right up Elliot Rhys’s alley.

According to the beliefs I occasionally subscribed to, rituals had been performed and the three of them were happy now. Peaceful. Good kami looking out for pathetic little me. In theory, I had no reason to want to contact them—I’m not sure I was supposed to even believe this Western opinion of death and mediums and that.

But something dark burned in me, a black flame licking under my skin, ready to consume me. I didn’t want Ken to see me now. Didn’t care to think about what his opinion of me would be. Ryann probably expected me to bug her boyfriend to speak to my family. The thought made me ill—I couldn’t imagine.

“He’s already here,” Rhys said suddenly, as Lain had just opened her mouth to speak. “He wants to know what you want this time.”

Lain leaned back on her hands and grinned easily. “That’s rude. We catch him at a bad time? Meet any cute girl ghosts?”

And she thought I was too much into the small talk. Still, the guy was a friend of hers. I supposed that if I were in her position, I’d want a few minutes to speak to a friend too.

If I had any friends.

“He said he doesn’t recognize the new woman here, so he guesses this isn’t a social call. Again. He’s developing a complex.”

Lain gave Ryann an, “I told you so,” look.

Rhys looked to me. “Wanna introduce yourself?”

Right, ’cause I really enjoyed the idea of speaking randomly to empty air. “I’m Persephone Takata and I’m looking for the people responsible for killing my family.”

“Very succinct,” Ellie said dryly. “Okay, Zar, your turn. He’s waiting to hear what you want.”

“So, Pete...you remember that little affair a few years ago that got you killed?”

Ah, so Peter was among the casualties. At least he’d have a vested interest in helping us.

“He kinda can’t not remember,” Ellie said.

“Hush, I’m trying to be respectful,” Lain said. “Well, do you remember the shadow government you told us about? That multi-dimension dealio? You’ll recall certain people were dying to get in with them.” She nodded in my direction. “Peri’s family was killed when all the covens were attacked here. So we’re—or at least I’m—helping her find them. Bit of payback seems in order.”

Ellie sighed. “He said no.”

She blinked. “Um...what?”

Rhys shook his head of shaggy red hair. “He said he’s not going to help you. These aren’t forces you want to play with and he’s not eager to sit down face to face with you any time soon, which is what will happen if you do this. So he wants you to leave this alone.”

“Not going to happen,” Lain said, somewhat to my surprise. I thought for sure she’d side with her friend. Girl must be really bored to jump on the Help Peri Bandwagon. “I know we’re looking for something called the Veil. Help me out here, Pete.”

Ellie frowned. “Court of the Black Veil? Oh bollocks, he says—he didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

“Okay, whatever that is. Names of members? Ways to reach them?”

“He left,” Ellie said.

“What the hell?” Lain snapped.

The psychic shrugged. “He left.”

“Make him come back.”

“I can’t force spirits to do anything.” He took another swig. “They don’t want to talk, then they don’t want to talk. Most of the time, I can’t get them to shut up, but Peter really doesn’t want to talk about this.”

Great, so our dead information source wasn’t going to pass on much info.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?