For a Few Demons More(140)
My cell phone rang, the electronic music blaring out to startle me. Scrambling for it, I cursed Jenks. I usually had it on vibrate, but someone—aka Jenks—had monkeyed with it, changing my ring tones. Fumbling to the tune of “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts,” I finally wrestled the thing out of my damp pocket. Real funny, Jenks. Ha-ha.
It was Glenn’s number, and after a moment’s hesitation I leaned against the kitchen counter and flipped it open. I had a bug to put in his ear.
“Hi, Glenn,” I said tightly; he knew I was usually sleeping right about now. “I hear Piscary’s out. It would have been nice if someone had told me the undead vampire I put in jail was free!”
I could hear keyboards and a loud argument in the background. Glenn’s sigh was heavy over it. “Sorry,” he said by way of greeting. “I left a message on your phone when I heard.”
“I never got it,” I said, only slightly mollified. Then I grimaced. “Look, I didn’t mean to bark at you. But I spent the night in my graveyard, and I’m a little cranky.”
“I would’ve called again,” Glenn said, and I heard papers being shuffled. “But when your demon burned down The Warehouse using their bouncers as kindling, we got swamped.”
“My demon!” I yelped, phone pressed tight to my ear. “Since when is Al my demon?” I said softly, remembering how well Trent and Quen could hear.
“Since you called him up to testify.” The FIB officer covered the mouthpiece. I heard something muttered, and I stewed until he returned.
“That doesn’t explain why Piscary is out,” I snarled.
“What do you expect?” Glenn said, sounding annoyed. “Neither the I.S. nor the FIB is equipped to deal with a demon who can walk under the sun. You weren’t doing anything. There was an emergency meeting of the City Council, and they let Piscary out to deal with it.” He hesitated, then, “I’m sorry. They gave him a full pardon.”
City Council? That meant Trent had known. Hell, he’d been in on it. What a total ass. I had risked my soul to put Piscary behind bars for killing ley line witches. Apparently that meant nothing. It made me wonder why I’d even bothered.
“This isn’t why I called,” Glenn said. “Another body has turned up.”
My thoughts were still on Piscary, apparently free to do whatever he wanted to my roommate. “And you want me to come down?” I said, my hand to my forehead and my head bowed as I got angrier. “I told you. I’m not an investigator, I’m a haul-them-in person. Besides, I don’t know whether I want to work for you anymore if you’re just going to let murderers out when things get rough.”
“Rough!” Glenn exclaimed. “We had sixteen major fires last night, five riots, and a near lynching of some guy in a dress reading Shakespeare in the park. I don’t think they even know the number of fender benders and assault charges. It’s a demon. You said yourself you spent the night hiding in your churchyard.”
“Hey!” I snapped. That was unfair. “I was hiding from Piscary, not Al. Al’s burning things up to get me to go to the ever-after with him. And don’t you dare sit there and call me a coward because I don’t want to.”
I was furious—my anger fueled by guilt—and I fumed until Glenn muttered, “Sorry.”
“All right, then,” I huffed, wrapping an arm around my middle and turning away from the hall. This isn’t my fault. I’m not responsible for Al’s actions.
“At least he’s gone,” Glenn said, no emotion in his voice.
I laughed bitterly. “No, he isn’t.”
There was a moment of silence. “Piscary said—”
“Piscary and Al are working together. And you fell for it, letting him out so now you have two monsters with free run of Cincy, not one.” My face twisted bitterly. “Don’t ask me to take care of them for you this time, okay?”
The background office noise filled my ear. “Can you come down here anyway?” Glenn finally said. “I want you to identify someone.”
My heart clenched. He had said there was another body. Suddenly Piscary was the last thing on my mind. “David?” I said, knees going weak, cold though the sun shone in strong on my back through the kitchen window. Someone had killed him. Someone was killing Weres looking for the focus, and lots of people knew that David was my alpha. God help me, they’ve killed him.
“No,” Glenn said, and relief made my breath tremble in my lungs. “It’s a Were by the name of Brett Markson. He had your card in his wallet. Do you know him?”