Heart of the Demon (23 page)

“Tobias is certain he did, but they’re still running tests and questioning the bastard.” She frowned. “He’s not talking. They’re
holding him in the cells in the basement of the council building, awaiting trial for treason and, most likely, murder in the
first degree.” She folded her arms over her chest. “There’s no way he’ll be able to argue a lesser plea, since it’s clear
he premeditated Deoul’s murder. Allegedly.” Her scowl deepened.

“I can’t believe it,” Keira murmured. “I never picked up on anything like that from him. Of course, I was barely around him
when he was with Deoul. Plus, I think he was quite adept at masking his emotions.”

“Probably. He’s obviously much better at being sneaky than any of us gave him credit for.” Nix glanced at Finn. “Tori and
Dante called right after we dropped you off here and told us they set off several charges, both on the machine and in various
places throughout the mine, including the entrance. No one’s going to be able to use that machine ever again.”

“You mentioned schematics? And what about the smaller device Liuz was using as a radio transceiver?” Finn stroked his thumb
idly back and forth on Keira’s wrist.

“As soon as we figure out where he was living, we’ll search for the schematics.” Nix shrugged. “As far as the device, we can
only hope the one he had was it. And it got buried with him in the mine.”

“I met him once at a house,” Finn offered. “I don’t know if it was his place or not—it was decorated in early thrift-store
style, and I always figured him to be someone who would surround himself with nice things. Expensive things. Maybe he was
waiting until he was ruler of the world.”

“Do you remember where you met him?”

Finn gave a nod. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Great. Thanks.” She looked at Keira. “I hope you feel better soon. We should do lunch once you’re out of here.” With that
she gave a small wave and left.

“I’d love to do lunch,” Keira murmured. She laughed. “I like her.”

“You should have known her when she was part human. Boy, was she cranky.”

Keira’s smile widened. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with you.”

“Of course not.” He shot her a grin.

She shoved the covers off her legs and swung them to the side, then pulled the pulse oximeter from her finger.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Finn stood up. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “I’m ready to get out of here. I need to feel the Earth against my skin.”

“Is the numbness completely gone?” he asked.

“It sure is.”

“Uh-huh.” Finn shook his head. Her tone had been falsely light. “Don’t kid a kidder, sweetheart.” He gently swung her legs
onto the mattress. “Back in bed you go.” She started to protest and he said, “Until the docs clear you, this is where you
need to be. And you know it.” He put the pulse oximeter back on her finger, knowing he did it only because she let him. “I’ll
bring in some dirt or something for you.”

“Very funny.”

He could see by the paleness of her skin and the bruised look around her eyes that she was still tired and weak. The fact
that she went back into bed so easily only confirmed what his eyes told him. He had no doubt that if she could get to her
little grassy patch of ground in the backyard that she’d be able to heal herself. But it was the getting her there that could
cost her her life. For now she had to stay put and let the medical staff do what they could to shore up her strength.

She dug her head into the pillow, trying to get comfortable, and winced. “See?” he asked in a gentle voice. “You’re not ready
to go home, warrior princess.”

Her lips twitched. She looked into his eyes and whispered, “Stay with me.”

“Always. And for us, that’s a long time.” He sat on the edge of the bed and brought her hand to his mouth and pressed his
lips to her knuckles. He rested their hands on his knee. “We have a life to build together. Just think: with my background
as an enforcer and your grifting skills, we can run a top-notch security company, a solid foundation to build our future on.”

“Sounds lovely.” Her eyes drooped.

He dropped his mouth lightly on hers. “Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

If fate were willing, he would always be there for her, and she for him. And if fate had other ideas, they’d fight it together.

B
artholomew Maxwell “Ash” Asher stared at the TV screen in the employee lounge at council HQ. The news had been going nonstop
for almost twenty-four hours, following the occurrence of the rift and newest influx of preternaturals. Several amateur videos
had already run that showed an actual habitation of a human by a being from another dimension.

No one could see the incorporeal entity, but the shock to the human’s system and the disorientation and confusion were plain
to see. The fallout from this latest rift was just as easy to determine—with dozens of local people affected, the human government
would move forward with their plan to forcibly implant microchips into preternaturals, their way of “protecting” themselves.

Ash gave a snort.
Yeah, right.
It was the humans’ way of keeping tabs on wild animals and nothing more. Well, he’d be damned before he let someone stick
a hunk of metal in his arm or anywhere else for that matter. He was his own master, and he didn’t need to be GPSed like some
damn pet. Or car.

The council was in disarray after the last two presidents were removed from office in quick succession. The first, Deoul Arias,
who was murdered by the second, Caladh MacLoch, who now awaited trial in the cells in the basement of the building. Ash had
been tempted to go down and talk to the councilor, to try and figure out why he’d done what he’d done. Or, at least, what
he was accused of doing. Ash trusted Tobias Caine and Victoria Joseph, and both of them seemed confident of Caladh’s guilt.

But right now he had bigger issues to deal with. All liaisons did. They had to get out on the street and round up newly turned
preternaturals before they could hurt anyone, or themselves. They had brand-new lives to get used to, abilities and predilections
they’d never before experienced.

Ash shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked from the room. It was time to get to work.

Nix de la Fuente scowled at the editorial as she made her way from her car to the latest crime scene. She folded the newspaper
and stuffed it into her oversized bag. It was garbage like this in the media that kept people stirred up. At least the guy
hadn’t mentioned demons at all. She supposed she should be grateful for that. Thousands of years of propaganda foisted on
humans by various religious establishments had definitely made demons out to be the bad guys. Some of that negative press
wasn’t wrong. Okay, most of it was pretty accurate.

Since she was only half demon, though, she considered herself one of the good guys. Most of the time, anyway. And it was her
somewhat unique heritage that had landed her the job as one of the liaisons between the region’s Council of Preternaturals
and the local authorities. That hadn’t earned her many friends on her mother’s side of the family, because most demons wanted
nothing to do with the council. They figured it was their right to live and kill others as they pleased. Her mother had been
downright pissy about Nix taking a job with the council, but Nix didn’t see any reason to placate a mother who’d been mostly
absent from her life, letting Nix’s paternal grandmother raise a child she’d resented and sometimes had even seemed to hate.

As Nix neared the crime scene, she paused outside the taped-off area and grabbed a pair of shoe covers to put over her boots.
In between two tall saguaro cacti, she braced herself against the wall of the building and slipped on the covers. Flashing
her ID at the uniformed Scottsdale police officer, she ducked under the yellow crime scene tape he held up for her. Taking
care where she placed her feet, she walked several yards to where a corpse was covered with a black tarp. She pulled a pair
of latex gloves out of her purse and with a sigh squatted down, slipped them on, then folded back the plastic sheeting.

Under the setting sun the blood appeared dark and dull on the victim’s face and streaked the once beautiful but now grimy
blond hair. Vacant blue eyes, clouded over, still held a look of surprise in their depths. In death her fangs hadn’t retracted,
the tips resting against her lower lip.

Nix’s heart gave a thump. She knew this victim. Amarinda Novellus. Nix would never have thought she would see her like
this
. She blew out a breath and lifted the tarp higher to see more of the body. What was once designer clothing hung in bloody
tatters. The rib cage gaped open, some of the bones broken. Most of the victim’s internal organs were gone. One leg lay bent
beneath her at an unnatural angle. Her right arm was at her side, palm down, while the left one was bent above her head. All
of her fingers were gone; no doubt her attackers had removed them to hide the bits of flesh and blood Amarinda had gouged
out of them with her nails. Deep slashes scored her forearms, her thighs. She hadn’t gone down easily.

There were any number of preternaturals with the capacity and the desire to do this sort of thing, but the suspects greatly
decreased when victimology was taken into account. Vamps were strong. Really strong. And fast. Even alone, this one should
have been able to defend herself against almost anything.

Except there’d obviously been no defense against whatever had done this to her. At this point it was difficult to tell whether
she’d been gutted by claws or knives.

A pair of men’s scuffed brown shoes moved into Nix’s field of vision. She glanced up past a potbelly to the ruddy face of
one of the assistant medical examiners. “George. How’re you doing?”

The porcine shifter scratched the side of his nose with a stubby finger. “Can’t complain. Wouldn’t do any good if I did.”

“Family all right?” she asked. “Your youngest just went off to college, right? How does she like it so far?”

A broad grin creased his face. “Family’s fine, and my baby’s lovin’ the college life. Worries me a little,” he muttered, his
smile losing some of its brightness. Knees cracked as he squatted next to her. “Helluva thing,” he said with a slight gesture
toward the body.

“Yeah.” Nix sighed. “What d’ya got?”

“Murder by person or persons unknown. Just like the one yesterday.” At her exasperated look he shrugged. “What do you want
from me?” He gestured the length of the body. “She’s been cut open and disemboweled. The how of it I’ll know once I get her
on the table. The why of it’s your job. I can tell you she fed within the last twenty-four hours. That’s determined by how
soft and pink her skin is.” He reached out and lifted her upper lip. “See how red her gums are? That shows she’s fed recently,
too.” He let her lip fall back into place. “’Course, it could be that she took a long draw from the bastards that did this
to her. I can’t say for certain.” He paused, shaking his head, then blew out a sigh. “It’s a damned shame.” He stood with
a groan and stretched his back. “The boys should be here shortly to collect her. I’ll let you know what I find out from the
autopsy.”

Nix watched him amble off and then looked back down at Amarinda. As with the earlier victim, there weren’t any visual clues
that she could see on the body, but maybe there was some scent left. Nix leaned forward slightly. Just as she started to draw
a breath to focus on the various odors from the body, a spicy, woodsy scent tickled her nostrils. A man moved into her peripheral
vision and hitched up his black slacks to hunker down beside her.

“Nice of you to come,” Detective Dante MacMillan murmured, shooting her a sidelong glance. Dante had been assigned to the
Special Case Squad only a month ago. Even though it usually took her a while to warm up to people enough to call them friends,
she and Dante had been on several cases together already and she knew he was a man of deep integrity and an abiding sense
of justice. Plus he made her laugh. Nix wouldn’t hesitate to name him as a friend, even after such a short amount of time.

She grimaced. “I came as soon as I got the call.” Damned werebear dispatcher had a thing about demons, and he always waited
until the very last minute to call her about a new case, making sure she strolled on to the scene later than everyone else.
She’d probably hear about it from her bosses afterward.

“I’ve been here ten minutes. First officer on scene secured the site and started jotting down makes, models, and license plate
numbers of cars on the street.” He clasped his hands between his knees. “I have uniforms doing a canvas of the area. So far
no witnesses. At least none that want to tell us what they know.”

She looked down at the body. “I know her. Her name is Amarinda Novellus.”

“How do you know her?” Dante’s voice was hushed, his tone compassionate. Finding out that you knew a victim was never easy.
It brought the violence of the murder all that closer to home.

“She was a friend.” Nix clenched her jaw against the pain of her loss. She and Amarinda had drifted apart over the last five
years because being around the female vampire had dredged up too many memories Nix hadn’t wanted to deal with. Now she’d never
have the chance to renew their friendship. Her emotions rose, her gut churning with demon fire as if the beast inside was
trying to burn its way out.

Nix stared at what was left of her friend and pushed the guilt and grief aside. She had a job to do. Had to focus and get
it done. She could grieve and wallow in regrets later. After she found Amarinda’s killer.

Dante glanced at the victim, his face drawn and taut. A heavy sigh left him. “The second dead ED in as many days. God, I thought
humans could be vicious to one another, but what EDs can do to each other…” He gave a slight shake of his head and gestured
toward the gaping rib cage. “I mean, an ED had to have done this kind of damage, right?”

“Could have been a pret.” Nix refused to call them EDs. It wasn’t that there was anything technically wrong with the term,
“extra-dimensional” really was quite accurate. But most humans said it with such disdain in their voices that it had become
an insult and wasn’t used by most preternaturals. She replaced the tarp and rose to her feet, removing her latex gloves and
tugging the back of her short leather jacket down over the knife scabbard at the small of her back. She might possess more
strength than an average human female, but it never hurt to have actual weapons at your disposal. Like a blade made of silver
at her back and the Glock 9 mm at her waist.

Dante stood as well, towering over her. Of course, most men did, since her human DNA contributed to the fact that she was
only five four in her stocking feet. Good thing she had on her three-inch-heel boots tonight. That way, at least, her eyes
were level with his chin instead of his Adam’s apple. She met his gaze. “There don’t seem to be any bite marks that could
make it a vampire kill, and I don’t see any bites or scratches or tufts of fur on Rinda that would suggest a shape-shifter.
Until the coroner can take a closer look, we won’t know if the damage was done by humans with knives or prets with claws and
teeth.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You really think humans could’ve done this?” He gestured toward the covered body.

“Maybe.” The editorial she’d read just before she’d entered the taped-off scene came to mind. “Some of the anti-pret groups
might have moved from rhetoric to rampage.” She shrugged. “I’ve met some pretty violent humans, especially on this job.”

“Yeah, me, too.” He paused. She could tell by the look on his face he was really hoping humans hadn’t been involved. Of course,
if they weren’t, that would mean that both of them would no longer be involved on this case. If this incident were pret against
pret, human authorities would back off and allow the preternatural council to resolve the issue. Dante added, “This didn’t
happen here. Not enough blood.” He gestured around the site. Criminalists were busy doing their jobs, from those taking photographs
and placing evidence in paper bags to the one at the edge of the scene making a video recording. “There should be spatter
everywhere, but there’s only what’s on and under her body.”

Nix agreed. “This is definitely a dump site. She was killed somewhere else.” The killing hadn’t taken place that long ago,
either. What blood was there was still fresh. One of the human techs walked by, the air disturbed by his movements wafting
the rich smell of blood toward her. She could almost taste the coppery tang on the back of her tongue, making her stomach
knot even more.

Demons didn’t ingest blood like vampires did, but the smell of the stuff still brought out a primal response. A dull throb
set up in her forehead and she brought one hand up to rub under her bangs, willing her horn buds to stay hidden. The last
thing she needed was to start showing her demon at a crime scene. None of her human colleagues except Dante knew she was anything
but 100 percent bona fide human being. She planned to keep it that way. While most people had settled down fairly well after
finding out that vampires, werewolves, and the various fairy folk were real, they were downright hostile about demons. She
didn’t need the prejudices of the cops and the crowd gathered on the other side of the yellow tape hindering her work.