Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4) (22 page)

Again the steward hesitated. “Baphomet approached our master, needing some particular skills of his for this project. At first he wasn’t interested, but Baphomet made it worth Raim’s while to partner with him. I believe they were bringing low–level demons across the gates for some gain. The details, I do not know.”

Baphomet’s steward had indicated the same. Was this all a red herring? Perhaps Raim’s “perversions” had nothing to do with the demon deaths and Baphomet’s murder. Perhaps he’d also been caught in this whole mess as a victim, and was being implicated simply because he had the ability to devour. Or perhaps I was desperately trying to make excuses for this demon, unwilling to admit to something that could very well be my own future.

“When is the last time you heard from Raim? Do you know what human form and identity he was using at the moment?”

“Paul Yong,” the steward replied promptly. “About a week ago, he contacted us to say he was becoming bored with the project he was doing and was concerned that one of the partners was not completely trustworthy. He planned to return to Hel this week after the last batch of demons came over to them. We never heard from him after that. He wasn’t the sort of master who communicated frequently, so we didn’t become concerned until a few days ago. When Baphomet’s steward contacted us yesterday with the news of their master’s demise, we knew the worst had occurred.”

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“Iblis, we are so very grateful for your protection. If there is anything we can do for you, any activity you wish us to undertake, we will do so without hesitation.”

I shifted uncomfortably. Maybe I’d been here, living the life of a human for too long, but his offer made me feel oddly guilty, like I was some kind of slave master.

“Just relax and take some time to adjust. I value your contributions to our household and will definitely let you know how you and the others can be useful in the future.”

I disconnected the line and glanced over to find Gregory regarding me with a rather sappy look. It was even more unsettling than the steward’s professions of service and loyalty.

“What? What the fuck is that look for?”

“I think my little Cockroach protests too much,” he said with a grin. “Could it be that I sit beside an angel after all?”

“Fuck you,” I told him, pulling the SUV back onto the freeway.

We drove a few moments in silence. I felt his amusement, his smug satisfaction, and it grated like sandpaper on my emotions. He’d overheard way too many personal conversation in the last few hours, and he’d clearly gotten the wrong idea about me. I’d set him straight earlier about my unwillingness to rehabilitate to his angelic standards. I didn’t want him reviving that particular project. It was time for us to get back to the business at hand.

. “So where in Juneau is this gate? When should we expect Raim to get here? Are you angels somehow tracking his progress, or guessing?”

Gregory looked at me with an intense stare. “So, this Raim you’ve been talking about is our devouring spirit? I overheard his choir say he devoured once, but is that rumor? The demon who tried to get through the gate in Seattle may not be him — it may be a different demon.”

“Well, I’m making some assumptions. He came over with Baphomet, and they seemed to have had a partnership of sorts. There are rumors he devoured. I can’t believe there are three of us here. That’s too much of a coincidence, even for me to swallow.”

Gregory shook his head. “So the dead demon in Seattle, your friend, this Baphomet, was in partnership with our suspected killer. The devouring spirit snapped, and your friend somehow got caught in the crossfire?”

“I don’t know,” I tried to think through the various angles. “He was only known to devour that once. Why would he leave Seattle to go munch up a bunch of demons on the east coast, then return to devour an angel and his former partner? It doesn’t make sense. If he’d snapped, he would have started with Baphomet and worked his way around the Seattle area.”

“Perhaps their project involved work on the east coast and that is where he began to devour. Or perhaps their project involved using his devouring abilities for some gain, and he lost control and turned on his partner.”

I caught my breath at the last theory, taking my eyes off the road to glance at Gregory. Would that be me someday? Only devouring as need, then turning on someone I cared about, taking them by surprise? Would it be Dar? Leethu? Or even the angel beside me?

“That is why you cannot devour again,” Gregory replied, reading my thoughts. “The more you devour, the greater the likelihood that you will lose control. It’s a slippery slope, little Cockroach.”

The air was heavy with thoughts of my bad habit and my probable future.

I finally broke the silence. “I don’t know if the killer is Raim or not. You work on trying to secure the gate and catch whoever it was that tried to get through in Seattle, and I’ll track down Raim. If these two are one in the same, then our efforts will double the chance of catching him. If not, then Raim may shed further light on what happened.”

He considered my words, but I felt a worry coming from him, concern for my wellbeing.

“Agreed,” he finally replied.

“So where is the gate? How do we know when the demon is arriving? Or is he already here?”

Gregory tried to scoot further back, but the seat was as far as it could go. An American SUV had tons of legroom, but not as much as a six–and–a–half–foot–tall angel needed. His knees were absurdly close to his face. He looked uncomfortable, and I got a perverse pleasure seeing him folded up like an accordion in the front seat.

“There is one major airport, one seaplane base, and four helipads in Juneau. That doesn’t count any of the small, unofficial landing areas. Juneau may not have land access, but there are a million ways this demon can arrive via air or water.”

I took my eyes off the road to give him a reproving glance. He was an angel. I’d expected more from him. “So you have no fucking idea when he’s arriving or how he’s getting here?”

The angel shifted in his too–small seat. “No.”

I yanked the car over to the side of the road and pulled the emergency break, stepping out as I dialed Wyatt’s number.

“Hey babe, you in Alaska yet?” His voice was cheerful and affectionate, and I felt a surge of longing. I was on the opposite end of the continent, but if I closed my eyes, I could still feel his skin against mine, smell warmth, man, Wyatt.

“Yeah, finally.” My voice was full of regret. “Gregory stole a private plane, so we made it in first thing. How are you? How are the girls?”

“They’re off at the mall, then lunch somewhere. Nyalla now has a cell phone and actually ordered dinner last night while we were out. Her English has gotten really good — she’s smart and seems to have a knack for languages.”

I could hear his pride, but couldn’t help a quick stab of worry. “Which mall?”

“Tyson’s corner. Don’t worry, I told Amber she wasn’t to set foot in Columbia Mall.” I took a deep breath in relief. There wasn’t much I could do from Alaska if the half–elf tried to get through a gate to Hel.

“Can you research something for me?” I asked, longing to wrap this whole thing up and get home. I missed him, missed my dog, missed my horses and my rental properties, missed the hot wings at the Eastside Tavern.

“Of course,” he said cheerfully. “Whatcha got?”

“Raim, aka Paul Yong, may be our guy. We’re not sure, but either way, he’s a demon of interest, and I’d like to talk to him. His household hasn’t heard from him in ages. Can you see if there’s anything on him in the last couple of days? Hits on his credit report, possibly cell phone calls?”

“Sure. I’ll see if I can hack into any of his credit card accounts for recent activity, too. I take it location is important?”

“Yeah. He could be anywhere. If he’s our guy, though, he’ll probably be either in Seattle, or heading up here to Alaska.”

I heard Wyatt typing. “Do you also want me to check all flights yesterday and today into Juneau from Seattle?”

“From Anchorage, Ketichikan, Skagway, and Vancouver too. That should cover air travel unless he flies a small plane into a private airport.”

“I’ll check into water travel from Skagway and Ketchikan also. I doubt he would have taken a boat from any further than that. Do you want me to scan for stolen planes? Yong didn’t have a pilot’s license, but other humans the demon Owned may have known how to fly.”

Wyatt knew us so well. I loved working with him on these projects. His mind flew alongside mine almost as though we were one in thought.

“Yes, but I don’t think the killer knows we’re on his tail right now. He got away from the gate guardian in Seattle, and we think he’s just heading for the next closest major gate to Hel. I doubt he’ll expect to encounter any angels until he gets to the gate, unless he’s so far gone that he’s recklessly throwing energy around.”

“Are there any other suspects you want me to track? If a different demon is the killer, you’ll have no way to track his arrival.”

My heart sank. “No. Part of me hopes Raim isn’t the killer, but it would be so much simpler if he was. Any ideas on how to find a devouring demon that we don’t know?”

Wyatt made a noise in agreement. “How about I scan breaking news along the northwest passage for any disasters, murders, or stolen planes? Seems the most likely thing for a desperate demon to do.”

He was the best — my partner in crime, even if it wasn’t really crime anymore.

“Thank you, Wyatt. Love you.”

“Yeah, I love you too. Just make sure you come back in one piece. And don’t go killing anyone.”

I hung up, because there was no sense in giving Wyatt false assurances, and turned to see Gregory out of the car and staring at me with a rather peculiar look on his face.

“Got him. Or at least we will get him if it’s truly this Raim guy. Wyatt is very thorough, when I can convince him to help me out.”

“I remember how useful he was last summer, when tracking Althean. I’ll have to remember his talents for any future issues.”

Yeah. I couldn’t see Wyatt agreeing to work for Gregory. He didn’t often agree to help me out anymore, and his feelings for the angel were pretty far into the negative category. I climbed into the rental car and headed toward our hotel, confident that Wyatt would call as soon as he had a solid lead.

I turned inland, heading for the bed and breakfast address Gregory had given me when we left the airport. We climbed steadily, navigating the switchbacks of city streets that were thick with trees and foliage springing from the sides of roads, narrow medians, and yards. Everything was overgrown. Outside of the more industrial, government–type buildings, the dwellings were hidden deep in a field of green. Finally, high above the city, we pulled in front of a three–story home. A placard outside read
Wolf’s Den Inn.

The view of the downtown and waterfront from the inn’s mountain–side perch was spectacular. Wisps of low–hanging clouds danced across the channel below, giving the vista an air of magic. Everything in Juneau seemed to be right on the edge of the mountain range, right on the edge of the inlet, or right on the edge of a glacier, and this inn was no different. It was as if nature grudgingly granted limited space for human residence, hogging the rest for herself.

The house appeared to have been built in the early twentieth century, with wooden German siding that had been painted cream, and dark–green trim around the more modern windows and doors. A huge wooden porch spanned the front of the house, filled with an assortment of rockers, small tables, and terracotta planters bright with geraniums. As I lugged my bags up the steps, I noticed various water–resistant board games on the tables, and a small antique metal cooler next to a rocker.

“You check in and get settled,” Gregory said as I reached out a hand to open the screen door. “I’ve got something I need to do.”

Before I could protest, he vanished. I was a little grumpy that he’d left me to use my credit card instead of his angelic charm, but cheered up once I was inside.

The remodel on the house had clearly been done with an eye to preserving the feel of history. Wainscot covered the lower half of the walls, and the floral wallpaper above reminded me of a century ago. A cheerful fire in the large stone fireplace drove the damp chill away. The chairs were full of needlepoint pillows and crocheted throws. It was warm and cozy, and I immediately felt at home.

“Welcome to the Wolf’s Den Inn.” The woman that greeted me at the front desk eyed me carefully but seemed pleasant enough.

“Thanks. I’m checking in. Reservation for …” I hesitated then remembered Gregory’s plane ticket with a blank space where the name should have been. “Samantha Martin.”

The woman glanced at her records, then up again. Her gaze was non–offensive, but shrewd and knowing. She reminded me a bit of Candy, and I found myself wondering if the name of her inn was more personal in nature.

“Yes. The Klondike room. I have your paperwork here.”

I approached the desk and dug my credit card out of my pocket.

“Just one?” She took the card, frowning slightly and flaring her nostrils. I was convinced she was a werewolf at this point and was tempted to ask her if she thought I smelt like burnt chocolate.

“No, I’m traveling with someone, although I’m not sure he’ll actually be staying here. It’s not like he sleeps or anything, but I guess I should get him a room key anyway.”

She nodded, scrutinizing me over the top of her reading glasses. I returned the favor. She looked to be mid–fifties, a wiry figure in a pair of blue jeans and a yellow button–down shirt. Her hair was light–brown, pulled up into one of those bun–like ponytails.

“Do you want to leave one of the keycards at the desk for him to pick up?” she asked after I’d signed for incidentals.

“Ah, no. I’ll just take it.” Gregory was liable to just pop into the room without a key. And it’s not like I knew what name to leave it under.

She hesitated before coming out from behind the desk and taking one of my roller bags.

“I’ll give you a quick tour on the way to your room. This front room has two computers for guest use, and a fax machine. There’s Wi–Fi throughout the inn, but the connection is better in the front part of the house.”