Demonicus (Overworld Underground Book 2) (16 page)

I stared at him for a moment. "I will give you and only you an interview if you can meet me around the corner."

"I'd be delighted."

"Good. Meet me there in five minutes." I turned and walked away, thoughts whirling in my mind. I heard a faint voice and realized I'd forgotten Jack was still on the line.

"Emily?"

"I'm still here. It looks as though I'll be giving the BBC an exclusive."

"Oh really?" he seemed excited. "I can't seem to find which organization that woman is with, but I found another video with reporters tossing questions at Tyler's sister, Arianna Rock. A man there asked her questions nearly identical to what the woman said."

"How very interesting."

"Yep. Reporters couldn't reach Cyrus Rock for comment, so I don't have any video of that." Keys tapped in the background. "I sent you links for the videos."

I reached the rendezvous corner and concealed myself lest other reporters come my way. "Keep searching for information on that man and woman. There's something dodgy about those two."

"I will divine the depths of their bolloxed dodginess."

I snorted. "That's not how you use those words, Jack."

"I'll get back to you soon. Good luck with the interview!" He disconnected.

A shock of panic raced through me as I realized I hadn't looked into a mirror to make sure I was presentable. Using my phone's selfie camera, I checked my makeup and made sure my eyebrows passed muster.

I peeked around the corner and saw the reporter coming my way with his cameraman. Much to my relief, no one else was following them. When they came around the corner, I put on my best smile and projected as much confidence as possible.

The reporter shook my hand. "I'm David Cornwall, and this is my cameraman Brent Wilkins."

Abandoning my forced American accent, I smiled and greeted him. "A pleasure, Mr. Cornwall and Mr. Wilkins. It's a pleasure hearing proper English."

The two men chuckled. "It can be rather trying on the soul, Miss Glass," David said. "Are you comfortable interviewing here, or should we adjourn somewhere else?"

"This will be quite all right, if Mr. Wilkins thinks the lighting is favorable," I replied.

"The lighting is splendid," Brent said. "I think it will do justice to your lovely features."

"You are too kind." I nearly shed a tear. "It's so wonderful to witness proper manners again."

David smiled. "Indeed, Miss Glass."

"Will this be live or recorded?" I asked.

"Our camera transmits to our van around the corner," Brent replied. "It will be live, but with a five second delay."

David motioned to Brent. "Ready when you are, Mr. Wilkins."

The cameraman counted down. "Three, two—" He held up one finger and then pointed it at David who stood in front of me. "Today we have the privilege of interviewing Miss Emily Glass, fiancé to millionaire Tyler Rock, and a former British citizen." He turned to me. "Miss Glass, there has been a storm of rumors surrounding the incident at your apartment, but we have yet to hear anything from you or Mr. Rock. Would you be so kind as to tell us the particulars?"

A surge of terror skittered through me as I imagined how many people were watching and I froze for an instant.
Don't do this now, you ninny!
Somehow, I managed to speak. "I'd be delighted." I forced my lips into a smile. "First, I should clarify that Tyler and I are not engaged. We're dating."

David smiled pleasantly. "Duly noted, Miss Glass."

His smile chased away some of my jitters and I was finally able to arrange my scattered thoughts. "It's one of many false rumors I've seen on the news today." I paused a second to let that sink in. "Joe and I went by my apartment to pick up some of my personal items. When we opened the door, we encountered a nightmare." I detailed the crime scene down to every remembered detail. "We immediately called the police, of course."

"What of the accounts claiming you and Tyler feuded with your neighbors?" David asked.

"In the few months I've lived here, I've never once met my neighbors aside from seeing them on occasion in the hallway. My roommate and I have never held a party, nor have we ever been up late at night shouting." I smiled. "Our wild nights consisted of eating Nutella with a spoon and talking about the day's events."

"So there is no truth to the claims that you were the subject of noise complaints, or that Mr. Rock threatened your neighbors?" David asked.

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. In fact, when I saw the interviews with Arianna and Brandon Rock, I immediately wondered where those news reporters had gotten such terrible information. When I tried to look up who they were, or which news organizations they represented, I couldn't find anything." Keeping my expression as pleasant as possible, I shook my head. "It's almost as if they were intentionally spreading malicious rumors."

"Interesting," David said. "We'll look into that as well, Miss Glass."

I considered broaching the subject of the issues Tyler was having with his companies and adding that this latest incident might be a part of a broader effort to financially damage him, but decided not to. I didn't want to sound like a conspiracy nutter.

"We here at the BBC want to thank you for this exclusive opportunity, Miss Glass," David said.

"The pleasure was mine," I said.

David turned to the camera. "This is David Cornwall, live from Atlanta, Georgia."

Brent made a cutting motion and lowered the camera.

I turned to David. "Will you really check into those videos I mentioned, Mr. Cornwall?"

"Absolutely. It wouldn't be the first time someone planted people in a mob of reporters." He tilted his head slightly. "Do you think someone might be doing this to financially harm Mr. Rock?"

I shrugged. "Bad PR would certainly be an effective weapon."

"Indeed." He shook my hand. "Perhaps you should hire a taxi, Miss Glass. I suspect other reporters will descend upon this place within minutes."

I nodded. "A good day to you both." I hailed a nearby taxi and instructed it to drop me at a Vietnamese restaurant down the road. Though I wasn't terribly hungry thanks to the bagel, I decided it was lunchtime anyway.

Tyler called me when I had a mouthful of noodles. I gulped and answered. "Have you heard?"

His voice was grim. "Yes. I've hired a PR firm to start damage control already. Any problems on your end?"

His mention of a PR firm made me feel uneasy. Not because I thought the firm might do a poor job, but because I'd just gone on live television and possibly said something counterproductive. "Um, nothing too bad, though a horde of reporters descended on the office today."

"I'd expect so."

"Yes, well, I hope I didn't bollox things up, but I gave an interview to the BBC." I winced in anticipation of his anger.

"What did you tell them?" Tension filled his voice.

I told him.

"Good. That's the same story we're going with."

I swirled the noodles in my bowl with a chopstick. "It's not a story. It's the truth." I stabbed a piece of meat. "Detective Long also visited me shortly before the media storm began. He made similar accusations to those I heard on the news—about you threatening the neighbors, and them reporting us for noise violations." I growled. "We know those are lies."

"Those may be lies, but public perception is easily molded by the media." He released a loud breath. "We might be able to push back, but damage has already been done. Stocks in companies I own have fallen across the board."

"Your former demon acquaintances must be determined to torture you in every way possible."

"Now I know why Barboar murdered your neighbors," Tyler said.

I almost agreed with him, but something about the demon angle didn't make sense to me. "If he intended to use those murders in a long-term plan to bring down your business empire, then why did he intend to kill us with a grenade?"

Tyler remained silent a moment. "You're right. I never knew Barboar or the others to be long-term planners. They were like little kids looking for instant gratification. That's what usually separates the lesser demons from the greater ones."

"It's possible Barboar committed the murders as part of a long-term plan, but couldn't resist the temptation to kill you when he had the chance."

"Possibly," Tyler said. "Another demon might have commanded him to follow a more complex plan, but why would my financial destruction be of any interest to a greater demon?"

"We've been so involved in the supernatural world that we haven't even considered more mundane miscreants." It didn't take much imagination to name two of them. "Brandon and Arianna would both benefit from destroying you financially."

"And both of them are capable of masterminding such a devious plan." He grunted. "I think the murders just happened to play right into their hands. In cases like this, the police don't usually release all the information to the public."

I pounced on the conclusion. "An inside person leaked the information to Brandon or Arianna."

"An instant public relations nightmare was born," Tyler finished. "We have to figure out who the inside man is."

"I believe that would be Detective Long." I told him how the man had acted while questioning me. "His assertions were patently ridiculous."

"Yes, but when that man and woman dropped the bombs about threats and feuding with the neighbors, it sparked a blaze." A beep sounded at his end. "Hold on a moment."

I chewed on a slice of beef during the wait.

"This just keeps getting worse," he said. "The videos with Brandon and Arianna's interviews are going viral according to the PR firm."

"Isn't there something they can do about it?"

"Not immediately." He sounded hopeless. "My company stocks are tanking. If we don't turn this around soon, Brandon or Arianna will be able to buy them for pennies on the dollar."

Chapter 14

I lost my appetite and pushed away the bowl of noodle soup. "Then I suppose we'll just have to find out who Detective Long reports to."

"Yes, we will." Steel edged his voice. "I'll see you later, babe."

I suddenly remembered our appointment. "We have an Overworld Orientation class today at five. Will you be back by then?"

"Yeah, I'm about to leave for the airport right now. I'll see you at home."

I ended the call and stared at the cooling bowl of soup, praying for inspiration. If an epiphany lurked somewhere in my mind, it twisted and tumbled in a maelstrom of anxiety, anger, and random thoughts.

I called Joe and asked him to pick me up.

I climbed into the SUV and saw his worried face. "There are a lot of reporters outside the Gregorian, Miss Glass." He scratched his cheek and looked over at me. "I'll see if I can sneak you into the garage."

"Surely they're not blocking it as well."

"Hard to say, but if you duck under my jacket, I don't think they'll see you." He reached behind him and picked up his wadded jacket. "Maybe you should ride in the back."

"That's a good idea." I climbed back between the front seats and buckled myself into the rear.

Reporters packed the sidewalk in front of the Gregorian. A line of security personnel held them at bay to keep them off the driveway. I ducked behind the seats and covered myself with the jacket, feeling very much like a fugitive. We made it through without incident. I peered between the front seats. The garage entrance looked clear.

Joe opened the gates with a fob and drove inside. He stopped near the elevator, got out, and opened my door. "I've got to go to the airport and pick up Mr. Rock."

I was tempted to go with him, but decided my time might be better spent searching for more information on Detective Long. "Thanks Joe."

"No problem." He drove away.

Just as I turned toward the elevator, I felt a warm sensation pressing against my face. I quickly ducked behind a car and nearly fell over thanks to my high heels. Footsteps sounded from the direction of a niche directly across from the elevator. I peered through the car windows to see who it was.

Two men with chiseled jaws and dashing good looks stepped forward. They might have been fashion models except for the flames dancing in their eyes.

"I know I heard the gate closing," the one with lustrous blond hair said.

The other man ran a hand through his stylishly coiffed brown hair. "It did, Xasha."

Since I'd seen Eyja and Barboar was hopefully still dead, that meant the other man must be Vatna.

"I can't believe our little Grim has been hiding from us all this time," Xasha said in a sneering tone. "We had so much fun together."

"After what he did to us, I want to prolong his suffering." Vatna snapped his teeth together. "He won't escape me again."

I suddenly saw quite clearly that Tyler's former acquaintances weren't pursuing him just for the fun of it. They were out for revenge.

Tyler, what did you do to them?

I hoped for their conversation to continue, but Vatna motioned toward his right.

The pair walked to the opposite side of the parking deck, eyes alert, and vanished behind the central area with private closed garages where Tyler kept his most expensive cars. I briefly considered making a run for the elevator, but since I didn't have a clear idea of where the demons were, I remained where I was. I closed my eyes and tried to determine their location by the sound of their footsteps and the hot spots on my senses. They most definitely emitted unpleasant auras, different from Eyja's or Tyler's.

My supernatural senses proved quite useful. The heat tickling my extra sense had grown fainter and it seemed to be coming from somewhere to my left, which meant the demons were near the backside of the garage. I slipped off my heels and judged the distance to the elevators.

I can make it.

Before I could move, an intense smoldering sensation warmed my backside. I spun around almost expecting to see the demons right behind me. Instead, I watched as the pedestrian gate opened and a tall muscular man entered. This man radiated heat even from this distance, drowning out the sensations of the other demons with a nauseating emanation.