Demon Bait (Keeley Thomson) (21 page)

That meant whoever was trying to
fool her wasn't just better than she was, but so good that...

Really, she wasn't sure that
there was even a way to quantify things like that. It was far too great a
barrier to wrap her head around.

She nearly panicked then,
standing in the bright sunlight after she got the front door open. It was a
nicely warm day, since June in the area was, but there was a hint of a breeze,
and the heat wouldn't be brutal yet, she didn't think. Not in Sparks. The light
was clean and bright, and washed away her troubles for long enough that she
regained her internal composure, and started making plans.

First... Cookies. It was a
bit
of a lame way to get into the Police Department, but a young looking girl with
food could do it. Even if they didn't want to eat it, fearing poison, or some
kind of trick, like all of them having pot in them, it would be enough to get
herself in the door. True, she could have just walked in, but it never hurt to
seem to have a reason that others could understand. Hence the baked goods and
obviously trying to ingratiate herself.

Then she needed to take some slaves,
check her new crop of people who would be waking for the day soon at their
former drug den... And get in touch with the real Gregor. That part wasn't
going to be simple, however. If someone
wanted
her to do it, then they'd
need to have control of the situation, wouldn't they? Or at least think they
did. Unless, of course, it was all about something else, like distracting her
from her own concerns?

That wasn't too likely, however.
Yes, she was tentatively set up to banish some people, if she could do it
without dying, but Tarsus wouldn't be setting her up to fail, she didn't think.
Not in this. Or... Well, it
could
all be a trick. That was a major problem
working with her own kind, she was beginning to truly understand. They were all
a bunch of lying, manipulative, bastards. Even the ones she liked. Even
she
was, come to think of it.

That normally would have made her
feel better, or at least reminded her to have a sense of humor, but at the
moment she had to use a bit of her own magical power, which reminded her to
draw energy from the reality around her, into the top of her head. Circulating
the force derived from that and trying as hard as she could to integrate it. It
was far from perfect, but if she did it daily, and made herself really try to
do well, it could eventually be worth doing. For the time being all her
real
power came from what she ate.

Like how most beings did it.

With focus she let herself shield
her mind, using several different magical techniques for it, including a rather
showy one that caused the air around her to ripple away in what seemed to be
heat distortion waves. Most people would miss it, since that wasn't normal, but
if they did see it, they'd most likely just rub their eyes. It was a rare Human
that could see what was really in front of them
and
not reject it.

Which... Was in the blue message
in her head. That hadn't gone away, and she didn't try to remove it yet. Right
there, in her own handwriting, in white letters on a bright blue background
that reminded her of a computer monitor, it stated it all pretty directly.
Greater Demons
couldn't
understand Angels and would reject the very
idea. It... Well, she
didn't
think of them as real, did she? That wasn't
proof they were, but for the time being, she had to keep an open mind, if it
were at all possible.

Then, it also said that Gregor, The
Cleric,
was
that kind of being. That part seemed a little more unlikely,
didn't it? Yes, he'd invented the whole Christian religion, but if it were
real, she'd see the signs of it, right? She had to think for a while, but it
was actually true. If that was a
real
faith, and not just an imagined
construct, then there would be real effects on the world. There simply weren't.
That didn't mean there was no god, which was a thought that she'd had more than
once before.

At least nothing in her memories
told her it wasn't possible. Of course, if Greater Demons just couldn't handle
the idea... Well, then Tarsus wouldn't have added a lot that way, would he?

Her mind fairly buzzed, even as
she got to the Police Station. She walked the first part of the goodies in,
leaving her trunk open, since no one would try to steal cookies from cops. That
was insane, and could end up with an accidental shooting. Or so she thought.
She wasn't ten feet away when a rather angry and unshaved man reached right in
and took a tray of the things, looking ready to run off.

Moron that he was, no doubt. They
were literally not twenty feet from a group of armed officers.

"Hey, you." She didn't
yell, and smiled when he looked up. "Get all of them, and follow me. It
will be worth your while."

"Um..." He didn't start
out by telling her to get fucked,
or
running, so she just winked and
turned, walking off, toward where he came from. After a bit there was the sound
of the trunk closing, and feet marching behind her. Slightly labored breathing,
which seemed a bit off, given that he was decently thin and in-shape looking.
Not clean and tidy, but given that he'd probably been locked up all night, that
was only to be expected.

Inside the station she expected
some problems at first, walking in with a clearly disreputable man, and
carrying what might just be thought of as poison laden attack cookies. That was
just because no one there knew her yet, naturally. Once they got used to seeing
her, once or twice a month, that would go away. Except that this was
her
territory, and she needed to have firm control over it, fast. There were
thousands of ways to do it, but she was the Mistress of Souls, and needed to
get that practice Tarsus had suggested in, as well as test her own limits. The
greatest number of slaves she'd ever held at once was about ten, which she had
at that very moment. It
could
have been a stress on her system, but
magically speaking she didn't even notice a drain from it.

So, smiling a little, she reached
out with her mind and tried to see what would happen if she did more than that.
A whole lot more. It was probably a bit too ambitious, and unneeded, but she
smiled and took everyone in the place, while just standing there, holding her
treats. Including the man behind her, since she was nice that way. Then she
gave the normal instructions, about how no one was allowed to struggle or plot
against her, or tell her a lie. Ever.

She felt the links sink home, one
by one, but in such rapid order that it was nearly the same as grabbing a
handful of loose ends and tying them all together. Smiling a bit, she found the
one she wanted in her mind, which she made glow green, in order to keep it
separate from the blue of the rest of the police that were now hers. It got a
nifty blue stripe, along the edge of that mental image, so that she could keep
track of him. He was a man, which wasn't unexpected, but older than she would
have figured. About retirement age, and a bit fat.

She realized that when he bustled
out toward her, his face puffy, and with folds along his earlobes, which
indicated heart troubles. The Chief of Police for her new city.

"Hello? I see you brought treats?
They smell great! I'm Bob Severn. Call me Bob. And you are, miss?" He
didn't
know
that she was his master, of course. He wouldn't, unless she
asked him to do something he didn't want to. Except of course that she could do
it a bit more smoothly than that, and use mental suggestions with him, so he
wouldn't have extra stress over it.

"I'm Keeley. Keeley Thomson.
I'm new to the area, so thought I'd make some friends, using bribes. We should
find a place for these..." She hefted the trays a bit, which got the man
to look at them as if they were filled with gold coins, not bits of flour and
sugar. Still, hunger was one of the most attractive and hard to defeat drives
for most creatures. It was an innate pursuit that never ended.

Chief Bob loved to eat, too, so
it made sense that he'd be interested. He also glanced at the girl holding the
things, but didn't pay
too
much attention to her that way. Enough that
it was clear that he enjoyed pretty girls, but not so much that she worried
about him being a pedophile. Not that someone thinking
she
looked
pleasant would be that.
She
wasn't prepubescent. More to the point, for
all that her face still looked young, her body had been designed to fit the
popular ideal of attractiveness. On purpose. Blaming someone for noticing that
was less than fair.

The man in front of her was
polite about it and showed her to a counter in the break room, which was loaded
up quickly enough, with the trays being left in a long row for people. They'd
get the idea, with no need for a note, or anything that crass. They were
presentation trays of food, and after the first one was opened, the rest would
go in quick order.

In all the trip in to that point
had taken ten minutes. Chief Bob smiled at her a lot, as she did the work
herself, her new friend Clint holding the silver things behind her. She waited
for the boss of the place to motion to him, with a skeptical expression on his
slightly dark tan face. The wrinkles were impressive for a working man, even
one close to retirement age. She touched his mind and nearly winced when she
realized that he was turning seventy the next month, and didn't plan to live
for too much longer than that. It was why he'd kept working, even with his
health problems. There was just no reason not to.

So, as they all stood in the
light blue and white place, the silver trays with their clear covers gleaming
on the counter, she turned to him and made a big head gesture toward Clint.

"What was he here for, do
you know?" That wasn't the case, of course, since neither man was exactly
in the circle of the other. Clint was so low on the crime totem pole that he
really didn't get counted as more than a mild annoyance by the force.

A quick call on a cell phone
however had all the information they needed, without it being volunteered. It
was a bit lazy to call to the front desk, which was about fifty feet away, but
whatever worked for the man. He wasn't really up to running even that far, and
felt a strange desire to please the girl in front of him. That was the gig
after all. Being a slave, at least to one of her kind, meant being their
total
thrall. This man would do anything she asked of him, and had no choice in the matter.
If she insisted that he eat well and perhaps just didn't like sweets anymore,
he'd do it without hesitation. In fact, though she'd never tried it herself, it
was just possible that if she told him to fix his heart, and even become a bit
younger, he'd simply do it. That seemed like a plan then, since she already had
this
Chief, and didn't need to break in another anytime soon.

The man looked at her, his eyes
grandfatherly. At least that's what she saw there. Only a bit of a hint that
this man had once been younger and more... randy. That was most old men, so she
didn't hold the fact against him.

"It seems like Mr. Howard
here had a good time last night at a local watering hole. Came in as drunk and
disorderly about three a.m. This is his sixth time in the last four months, so
it looks like he's going to be going away for a few days, after the court case,
that is."

Keeley looked at the man, who had
friendly blue eyes, the whites a bit tinted with age, some red veins showing
that he either wasn't a morning person, or had some minor trouble sleeping the
night before.

"Oh? Well, he
did
help out bringing the cookies in. I told him that he'd get a reward if he
helped. How about you get those charges dropped? He'll stop drinking and... I
don't know, how about he comes in once a week to clean up the parking lot or
something? Saturday mornings?"

There was a hesitation from Bob,
but then his mouth worked and he started nodding, gently at first.

"I guess that can be
arranged, if he's really going to change his ways. How likely is that?"
This was addressed to the other man, who rubbed at his face, which needed a
shave, and then sighed.

Before he could speak, Keeley
focused, touched his thoughts and instructed him to never drink alcohol again.
Or do any other drugs, unless prescribed by a doctor or ordered by her. Not
that she was planning on a heroin addiction for the guy, but it was always nice
to leave the option open.

"I can do it. I need to stop
anyway. I guess... I don't know, AA or some bullshit like that?"

The Chief didn't seem impressed,
but cleared his throat and then reached out to pat Keeley on the arm.

"He gets
one
shot,
and only because you asked. If this doesn't work, I won't be able to help him
again. If it does... Well, locking people up only does so much. The job is
about
preventing
crime. It just almost never works that way."

That got her to nod, since there
was a lot of truth to what he was saying. A good police force shouldn't be
about jack boots and guns, but about being there for people, and solving
problems. That wasn't what took place, or even how they were trained, but it
was so obvious that it worked better that even Humans could see it, if they
were intelligent enough. That the Police Chief was, made sense. He was from a
different era of law enforcement. From a time when being the smart one got you
a better job, if you tried hard.

"Great! It won't be a
problem, right Clint? Now, I'll be calling you about once a week, to check up
on you and make sure things are going well here, Chief. If you have any
problems that can be solved by a sixteen year old girl, let me know. Or, even
if you don't think that I can do much, since it's part of my plan to be
socially active. You never can know when having some extra cookies will help,
either." She patted his arm back, getting a soft smile in return.