Arcane Solutions (Discord Jones) Read online

  That, I could live with. “Your pancakes are ready. The syrup’s in the pantry.”

  “Thanks.” Another kiss, and he carried off the offered plate as though it were a prize. Heaving a silent sigh of relief, I was proud at having gotten through the conversation without making more than one dumb comment.

  Noticing Leglin sitting in the archway, I cooked extra bacon and a third stack of pancakes before joining Nick at the table. Setting the extra plate on the floor, I called the hound over. “Here, Linny. Try this on for size.”

  For such a large animal, he moved silently, not even a tap of his nails on the tile. Sniffing at the food, Leglin began eating before I had my first bite. “I think he likes it. Crap, you’re not supposed to feed dogs table food, are you?”

  Nick shrugged, chewing and swallowing before answering. “It won’t hurt him. He’s not an ordinary dog, Cordi.”

  Right, he was part demon. Funny how that had slipped my mind. Maybe it was because the dog was the only demon around that hadn’t tried to kill me.

  ***

  Breakfast over, and both of us dressed, we met back at the kitchen table with legal pads and pens to work on the case reports, which we had neglected woefully. “Okay, first off is order of events.”

  “Right. Meeting the Mitchells, Kate’s locator spell placing Zoe in the Barrows.” Nick wrote that down then paused. “What about the episodes with the vampires while we were there?”

  “Skip the one I head-butted. He was on the prowl for sex. Write Derrick down.”

  He nodded, pen beginning to move again. “He came along after the hi-jacking by elf. Thorandryll met with Mr. Whitehaven, and had the first meeting with you.”

  “Yeah. Next was the visions I had handling the scarf, second try with the locating spell, and then was the first hit with my tracking sense. The construction site, vampire ashes, and Fake Elf Guy.” Tapping the pen against my chin, I scowled while recalling it before dropping the pen to paper to write down what had happened.

  Nick waited until I was finished. “What happened next?”

  “Second client meeting with Thorandryll, trip to the morgue, and retro-cognition of a demon raising.” While he added those events to his list, I wrote down brief descriptions of each. “And then the trip to Thorandryll’s library. Another kick of tracking, which led to the magic string.”

  Pens scratched paper. Leglin slurped water in the corner. “Trip to the Orb to find out the magic string was a concealment spell. Research into Goth clubs to look for cultists.” More scratching noises. “And then another tracking insight. Had a brief vision, met Logan, fell into underground tunnels, and we were attacked by Derrick and his goons.”

  Scritch, scratch. “Third show of Thorandryll, and then you and I drove around the Palisades. More tracking, which led to recovering the scrap from the grimoire and another attack by vampires.”

  Nick interrupted. “Do you think that was Derrick?”

  “Has to be. He’s not the first vampire I’ve pissed off, but it’s too much of a coincidence.” Watching him write that all down, I lined up the next events.

  “Took the scrap to David for a look…”

  He looked up from the pad. “Does the boss pay them for doing stuff like that?”

  “Yep. Monthly consultation fee. Anyway, that’s when we found out it was a grimoire. I went with Damian to the construction site, and that’s where the first demon run-in occurred.”

  “Human in appearance?”

  “No. It wasn’t making any attempt to fit in. All scaly demon on display.” Since that hadn’t worked out so great, it was logical to me that they had resorted to human facades since. “Then the second demon attack, at the office.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask how you knew it was a demon.”

  Train of thought interrupted, I stared at the top of his head. “Its eyes.”

  “What about them?” He looked up.

  “They were solid black, no whites, no distinguishable pupils.”

  Nick leaned back. “It had blue eyes, Cordi.”

  “They were black. So were the ones of the demon I stabbed at the restaurant.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t get a good look at that one, but the first one I saw had blue eyes.”

  Wasn’t that interesting? “Put a mark by that one. We’ll come back to it.”

  He did so, and I continued. “The elf showed up after that, and said the grimoire had the Melding spell, which someone wanted to alter in order to meld the demonic realm with ours. And so far, the last thing was the attack at the restaurant – two demons.” After a pause, I said, “Need to get Kate to try again with the locator bit.”

  Surveying the list he’d made, Nick scowled. “Three demon attacks, and two attacks by vampires. Which might be all Derrick-related.”

  “There was the ash pile. You really didn’t see that his eyes were solid black?” Something was nibbling at the edge of my mind. “Because his and the one’s at the restaurant were black.”

  “The only time his eyes looked black to me was after Percy bombed him, and the demon went black all over, Cordi.”

  Black. What was it… “Fake Elf Guy. His face was covered in like this swirl of darkness.” We stared at each other. “Can you smell demons, Nick?”

  “Those smelled like humans, at least until they began smoking.” He paused. “You think…”

  “The reason the one at the office didn’t set off the ward was because he was wearing a human body? Yeah, that’s what I think. Where’s my phone? I need to call Kate.” Pushing away from the table and grabbing my purse from the catchall near the archway, I dug out the phone.

  ***

  Kate wasn’t happy. She detested having to visit the morgue. “Put the body in the middle of the room.”

  Damian and Nick obeyed, moving hastily back while I began placing candles at the four compass points around the corpse. Making use of a black wax marking pen, the witch created a circle on the linoleum. “Percival?”

  “Bad magic.” The parrot wasn’t impressed with the scene, squawking his opinion through a beakful of feathers he was busily preening.

  “Noted, but get over here and help. This is for Cordi, remember?”

  “Is bad magic,” the parrot insisted, flapping his wings violently. Leglin barked, the deep sound reverberating off steel surfaces. Huffing, Percy launched off the desk he’d been perched on. “Bad dog.”

  He landed at Kate’s feet, feathers puffing. She rolled her eyes, gesturing for us to move further back. Once we’d complied, the witch began a soft chant. The candles popped, their wicks catching fire.

  Kate’s chant continued, her familiar rustling his feathers in irritation. A final word sent the room plunging into almost complete darkness. I blinked, noticing the lights in the hallway outside were still working.

  Nick shuddered, sliding an arm around my waist. “Did it just move?”

  “Hush.” Kate’s order was crisply delivered.

  Squinting, I could see a faint outline beginning to rise above the corpse. It was grotesque in shape, twisted and streaked with sickly green. “Please tell me that’s not what our souls look like.”

  “No, that’s definitely a demonic aura. Congratulations, Jones. You were right. He was possessed.”

  Damian muttered something then spoke in his normal tone. “The others disappeared as smoke and ash. Why didn’t this one?”

  “Ooh, I know.” Everyone looked at me. “I didn’t puncture this guy, or use a banishing potion on him. Or maybe, since there was already black escaping, the demon was vacating the premises, and finished before I uh…sealed him up.”

  “Feasible,” Damian decided. “But there hasn’t been a true case of demon possession ever recorded.”

  Kate snorted. “That we know of. You’re forgetting that we’re running a couple of thousands of years behind in the learning department.”

  That statement confirmed my opinion that no one was an expert on anything. “Well, now what?”

&n
bsp; “Now, we do heavy research on demonic possession.” At her answer, Percy began cursing in French.

  ***

  Mr. Whitehaven didn’t appear all that pleased, seeing us entering the office. “You’ve been attacked here, so this isn’t a safe place.”

  “Neither is my apartment. Not from demon possessed humans.” His worried expression became one of surprise. “Kate’s calling Ronnie to see what she can come up with by way of new wards.”

  “Possession.” The boss heaved a long, mournful sigh. “Are you certain?”

  “She did a spell on Dead Guy. Damian’s been questioning the dude’s known contacts – not that anyone’s admitting to being involved in a cult. But yes, we’re sure.” I was looking around the reception area, which was repaired and even the furniture replaced. “Looks like nothing happened here.”

  Whitehaven ignored the remark. “This presents a rather large problem, Discordia. Demon possession isn’t possible, unless there are already portals opened between our realm and theirs.”

  Nick sat on the new sofa, a deep pine green, overstuffed and comfortable-looking thing. “If they’ve already got portals available to them, why would they need the grimoire?”

  Good question. I sat next to him, waiting for the boss’s reply. Leglin followed, sitting so that he could rest his head across my thighs. Having saved my life, among other things, the hound was gaining points with me, so I petted him.

  “It’s a matter of…I suppose ‘magic saturation’ is as good a term as any. You and I have always lived in a realm with magic, whereas Discordia has not. Without that magic saturating our melded realms, we would not be able to exist here.” Whitehaven paused. “Demonic magic is different, and portals won’t supply enough saturation for more than a small number of demons to be present in this realm.”

  He gave us a few minutes to let that soak in. Glancing down at Leglin, I asked, “How does it work for him, then?”

  It was as though I’d thrown some switch, and both men were suddenly holding their breath. “What?”

  Nick growled, jumped to his feet and moved several steps away before turning around to stare at the hound. “So the rumor’s true. It has to be, doesn’t it?”

  I looked at my boss. “What rumor?”

  Sinking into a chair, Whitehaven focused on Leglin, his face displaying an expression I hadn’t seen on it before. “I’m afraid so, Nicholas.”

  Whatever it was, it had to be bad news. “Hello, this is Cordi. She’s still here, and would like to know what rumor you two are referring to.”

  “Their hounds aren’t just part demon, but part shifter. Wolf shifter.” Nick’s lips peeled back, baring his teeth. “The original breed was normal canines. Forerunners of the breed humans have named Irish wolfhound.”

  Oh, my. Hand stilling, I looked down at Leglin, who moved his head just enough to meet my eyes. For a long, silent moment, another pair of eyes lay superimposed over his in my mind.

  Clear, green eyes with flecks of gold dancing in their depths. Logan’s eyes, when he was his tiger shape. The same intelligence was present in the hound’s gaze. “Oh, my god. That’s… How did they even…”

  Mr. Whitehaven answered, still staring at the hound. “The elves recorded their development of the breed. A demon, captured and forced into hound shape, bred to selected bitches from their hunting packs. At that time, all the realms were one, and demons were a continuing threat to human existence.”

  Dropping into another chair, Nick clenched his hands into fists. “But it’s said that the first litters weren’t controllable. That the elves slaughtered most of the pups, keeping only a few males for breeding.” He took a deep breath. “And around the same time, there were several disappearances. Female shifters. Wolves.”

  I couldn’t seem to keep from staring at Leglin. “If he’s part shifter, why can’t he shift? Why is he stuck as a dog?”

  “Not all who hold shifter bloodlines are able to change their forms, Discordia.” My boss’s voice was hushed. “The second litters were controllable and intelligent, exactly as this hound is. The elves claimed they’d simply bred the kept males back to normal dogs, to dilute the demonic blood further.”

  “That’s why my Alpha doesn’t want half breeds. The pack would be responsible for them, and those who can’t shift shape sometimes go insane.” Nick forced his hands to uncurl, and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “When that happens, we have to kill them.”

  Sometimes, there were things about the supernatural types that I could go all my life and be happy not knowing. I’d now added two more to that list. My mouth opened, a question tumbling out before my brain could catch up and put the brakes on. “Does that mean that he could be related to you?”

  Without looking up, the shifter nodded. His voice was soft. “Yeah, it does. Our pack is one of the oldest, and two women went missing during the time the elves were experimenting. Or so say our historical records. My family’s bloodline traces back to both.”

  “And they’ve used them to hunt shifters.” I shuddered hard enough to make the hound lift his head. He whined, looking up at my face. Forcing a smile, I touched his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, bub.”

  Scratch the surface of any supernatural, and you’d discover unpleasant secrets. Dig deep enough, and unpleasant could become horrible. There was a question to ask, but I didn’t want to find out anything horrible about my boss.

  Not knowing more about him than what he’d presented had always worked for me. However, the question had to be asked. “How did you know that about demons?”

  “The advantage of being rather advanced in years. One can learn many things, as long as one makes the effort to pay attention.” He sounded like a schoolteacher.

  Leglin dropped his head back onto my lap. Petting him calmed me enough to clarify another question I needed to ask in conjunction with that scream I remembered.

  Killing vampires was one thing. They were walking corpses; a piece of wood was all it took to turn them to ash. At least as long as they’d passed the natural length of decomposition. But a human taken over by a demon?

  That was something entirely different. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Can possessed humans be saved?”

  Whitehaven’s smile was mournful. “No. The possession requires tearing the host’s soul free of its physical housing, and leaves the body too polluted for that soul to return home.”

  My eyes closed as I leaned my head back, air sighing out between my slack lips. Knocking a punk unconscious here and there was something I had no problem doing. Staking vampires? No problem. But killing humans? That wasn’t what the good guys did, and being a good guy was definitely my agenda. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  Nick’s cell phone went off, and I listened to him jump up. “My Alpha. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Opening my eyes, I watched him hurry down the hall toward Kate’s office and wondered what to do if he was needed at home. There hadn’t been any calls for him since the second vampire attack. Maybe he’d told his Alpha what was going on, and the guy was just checking on him.

  I needed a lot more information, so that I’d have a better idea of what to expect, dating a shifter. Maybe we could talk about it once things were settled with the cases.

  “If you have any reason to visit the Palisades, I want you to call ahead and inform Logan. Do you know where his business is located?”

  “Not really. I mean, he told me the address, and we went there the other night, but I don’t remember where it is.” Studying my boss’s face, my curiosity about his origins rose again. Old, strong, and able to do some magic. Calm even when everyone else was freaking out. Apparently not afraid of anything or anyone. He was kind of like a giant elf, just not arrogant or as pretty. Though not exactly affectionate, he always came across as warm and caring.

  Shoving the curiosity back into its box, I smiled. “So, are you hiring him?”

  “At least for this case. The Palisades appear to be involved, so it’s b
est to have someone available who is familiar with the environs. His place of business is located on West Haymill.” After my nod, Whitehaven asked, “You do trust him?”

  “Yes, I do. He’s been nothing but helpful since we met.”

  The boss smiled, but if he had anything to say, Nick’s return kept him silent.

  “Problem?” I asked, and the shifter shook his head.

  “Nothing important. We should probably go back to your place.”

  “Sure.” Rising, I petted Leglin’s head and remembered a final question. “Has anyone found out what Mr. Mitchell does?”

  “He’s an architect.”

  Architect. Wasn’t that interesting? “Is it okay if I borrow one of the laptops?” They had all the search software installed.

  Whitehaven inclined his head in permission. “Certainly.”

  A few minutes later, just about to leave, I remembered something else. “Did anyone talk to Mrs. Mitchell yet?”

  “No, she hasn’t returned Kate’s phone call. I’ll place another call,” Whitehaven assured me.

  “All right. Thanks.”

  Twenty-two

  Nick’s hand dropped from the steering wheel to my thigh. With the previous revelation, the urge to scan the dog’s mind was growing, but I was resisting it. If Leglin was part shifter, he was more of a person than some people considered their pets. It would be rude to pry.

  Not to mention, one hell of a shock if the hound thought like a person. Normal animals thought mostly in pictures, sounds, and smells, using only a few words each assigned importance to. Their minds were confusing, so I usually relied on my empathic ability and gauged their moods instead.

  There were a few psychics who specialized in animal communication. They’d blown several animal whisperers out of the water, establishing lucrative careers for themselves. Not me. I preferred people, whose minds were easier for me to understand.

  I needed a distraction before the urge overwhelmed me. “Did your pack’s territory come through during the Melding?”