Page 19

Chapter Nineteen

It felt a little weird to be up here when he knew Delia was downstairs, diligently splashing holy water everywhere so the demons wouldn’t be able to come back inside without inflicting a world of pain upon themselves.

Possibly, they’d think that was a decent trade-off for being able to really get their claws into him, but he didn’t think so.

He just wasn’t that important.

No, he focused on splashing the water on as many surfaces as possible, especially the window frames in all the upstairs rooms, being extra careful in the main suite so it would be the very last place in the house where they’d want to set foot. Right then, he was just thankful that he’d decided against having a second gas fireplace installed in his bedroom, since that would have given the demons an additional point of entry.

At least nothing seemed to have been disturbed up here, as if the demons had disappeared right after he did. With their prey gone, they probably wouldn’t have had much reason to stick around. Also, while they were bigger than the imps that had attacked him at the Bellagio and in his Uber the other evening, they were still from the lower orders of demons and wouldn’t have had the native intelligence to dig through his things to see if they could find any clues as to where he could have disappeared.

Satisfied that all the important surfaces upstairs had been rendered inimical to demon-kind, he went downstairs to find Delia finishing up with the windowsill in the living room.

“I think that’s about it,” she said. “Everything okay upstairs?”

“Looks like it,” he replied. “I don’t think they even went up there. So I suppose now we need to decide what to do next. Do you have any appointments today?”

He didn’t think she did, or otherwise she wouldn’t have been so leisurely about breakfast…or about coming over to his house to help. Also, unlike the other times he’d seen her during business hours, she wore skinny jeans and boots and a close-fitting sweater in a deep shade of green that only served to set off the lustrous copper of her long hair.

While he liked the understated sexiness of her business attire, he had to admit this was even better.

But the outfit also seemed to signal that she didn’t have any real demands on her time today — at least, not from her clients or at the office, which he thought could only be a good thing. Although they’d done what they could to make sure his house was impervious to any further demon attacks, he’d never been in a situation like this before and wasn’t sure what might be next.

He definitely didn’t care for that feeling.

“No,” Delia replied, confirming his suspicions about her schedule. “It’s a pretty light week.”

She didn’t sound very concerned. But then, why should she? Thanks to the sale of the Pueblo Street house closing so quickly, she’d already banked a nice, plump commission. She could take the rest of the month off if she wanted to.

However, he doubted she would do anything so indulgent. Maybe once upon a time she’d been a punk chick — or possibly, more post-punk — but she’d definitely morphed into a brisk, no-nonsense professional woman.

He didn’t say “good,” because he thought that might have sounded dismissive. “Okay. Then I suppose our next step is trying to figure out who’s sending these demons after me.”

Delia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I had a friend of mine who’s a private detective look into Robert Hendricks, but she didn’t find anything suspicious. He seems like a regular guy — a successful one, sure, but there’s no crime in that.”

“A P.I.?” Caleb responded, and couldn’t help grinning. “You have all kinds of connections, don’t you?”

“I do,” she said serenely, although something flickered in her eyes as she made the reply. During that telltale moment, brief as it was, he realized this was how she must have discovered his real name and his past in Greencastle. He couldn’t even be angry about that, not when telling her the truth about himself was the very reason why she’d stayed on as his agent. She added, “Pru was the bassist in my band, and we’ve stayed friends.”

A helpful friend to have. “Did she find anything else?”

“No.” A pause, and Delia added, “Well, except that Robert Hendricks’ casino and a bunch of others signed a consulting contract with some sort of private security firm called The Styx Group. Ever heard of them?”

He hadn’t, so he shook his head. But that name….

“They sound kind of dodgy.”

“My thought exactly,” she replied. “Pru tried digging into them, but she couldn’t find much. She’s not a hacker, though, so maybe someone else might be able to get more information on the company.” Delia’s green eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Don’t suppose you know anyone like that.”

Unfortunately, no. One of Michael Covenant’s associates had been some kind of computer hacker, but Caleb sort of doubted the man would be too enthusiastic about lending his services to someone he could only view as the enemy.

“Nope,” he said, not too bothered by their lack of resources on the hacking front. “It looks like we’re on our own with this one.”

Which was about what he’d expected. He’d only been in town for a couple of months and hadn’t formed any real connections during his time here, so he didn’t think Delia would find it too strange that he didn’t have any acquaintances or associates who could help out.

And since she was a native of Las Vegas and still didn’t have any computer hacker friends, he wasn’t going to beat himself up too badly about not being able to call in the digital cavalry.

“Does The Styx Group have offices here?” he asked, thinking they could at least try sniffing around in person if there wasn’t much to be found online.

She shook her head. “The website only lists an office in L.A. — on the Westside, I think, judging by the address.”

Caleb supposed that was slightly better than downtown, which was uncomfortably close to Pasadena, the city where Michael Covenant and Audrey Barrett…and Rosemary McGuire and Will Gordon…lived.

Still, he didn’t want to go anywhere near their orbit, which meant a reconnaissance of The Styx Group’s corporate offices probably wasn’t in the cards.

“Well, we won’t worry about that for now,” he said. “We don’t have any reason to believe they’re connected to this mess anyway.”

He went over to the couch and sat down, and Delia, who’d been hovering near the window this whole time, took the hint and seated herself on one of the chairs that faced the sofa.

“But who is connected to it?” she said softly. “You said these demons had to have been summoned, so who’s doing the summoning?”

A very good question. “Someone who knows what they’re doing,” he replied. “Contrary to what all those horror movies like to show, it’s not as easy to summon a demon as you might think. Especially when you consider this person started with imps and only ramped up to more destructive demons when they figured out they’d need to get some bigger guns if they wanted to take me down.”

Had that sounded too much like bragging? He hadn’t meant his comments to come across that way, but he supposed Delia might still interpret them in a negative light.

However, she only looked thoughtful, so it seemed she was too engaged in trying to get to the bottom of the problem to worry about his delivery.

“Someone who’s good at summoning demons,” she said in musing tones, then shook her head. “Las Vegas is full of palm readers and psychics, but I don’t think demon summoning is the sort of thing most people want to put on their shop window.”

Probably not. Her remark got him thinking, though. While he knew the vast majority of those psychics were complete fakes, there had to be one or two who were the real deal.

And demon summoning left its own traces behind. It was the very darkest kind of magic, something that should show up as toxic sludge against the overall psychic energy of the city.

“Can you reach out to your friend Pru again?” he asked, and Delia blinked.

“I doubt she’s awake yet,” she replied. “But I can send her a text anyway, and she’ll see it when she gets up. What did you have in mind?”

Maybe it was a crazy idea. On the other hand, a psychic — a real one — might be their only hope of tracking down the person who’d summoned those demons.

“I need her to find us a psychic,” he said.

Delia, to his relief, didn’t find his suggestion quite as crazy as he’d feared. In fact, she immediately said, “To find our demon summoner? Isn’t that the kind of thing you should be able to do?”

Should he be annoyed with her for thinking he possessed a whole lot more talents than he actually did…or a little flattered that she believed he was so powerful?

Caleb decided to go with the latter. “No,” he replied. “I have demon blood, but I’m not psychic. And while I can sometimes sense when they’re nearby, there’s no way I can trace those demons back to their source. Summoning them takes a lot of psychic energy, though, so I’m hoping someone who really is talented and isn’t just trying to bilk tourists out of a few bucks might be able to help us.”

Delia absorbed that comment, then nodded. “Okay, I guess I can understand that. Too bad my own talents seem to be mostly restricted to ghosts.”

Since he’d already thought pretty much the same thing, he only lifted his shoulders. “I think you might eventually get there, since you’ve already picked up hints of the wrongness our demon friends have left behind. But in this case, we don’t really have the time to sit around and wait for that to happen. I don’t want to have to keep looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”

All right, he’d partially resigned himself to such a prospect, just because he’d come here with an assumed identity and had done his best to leave his former life behind. Even so, he’d been expecting some kind of ordinary trouble, like the DMV suddenly deciding his birth certificate wasn’t valid, or his bank discovering that his credit history was a total house of cards.

With Belial dead and the rest of the Greencastle gang trapped in Hell, he honestly hadn’t thought he’d be dealing with demons again.

“Of course not,” Delia said at once. “We’ll get this figured out one way or another.”

She looked utterly determined, like a warrior queen about to head into battle.

Not for the first time, Caleb found himself very glad he’d spotted her in that casino last week. What would have happened if he didn’t have her to help him through this?

He supposed he would have muddled through somehow. There was also the possibility…even though he didn’t want to admit it to himself…that he might not have gotten dragged into this at all if their paths hadn’t crossed.

Impossible to say. The only thing he could do now was make sure they found a way to make it out to the other side.

Delia got out her phone, unlocked it, and then sent off a quick text, her fingers flying across the screen. “Okay, that’s done,” she said, then returned the phone to her hip pocket. “Pru’s a serious night owl, so we probably won’t hear back until at least eleven, maybe later. What’s the plan until then?”

Even though they’d thoroughly doused his home with holy water and it was probably fine, Caleb still didn’t like the idea of hanging around here. Besides, he thought they’d better check on his other property, just to make sure the demons hadn’t decided to go over there and wreak havoc.

If they even knew he owned the place. He was still a little hazy on how much information they’d gathered on him, or whether they’d mostly paid attention to his comings and goings from the casinos and didn’t give a rat’s ass what he did with the rest of his time.

Also, it had only been a couple of days since the property had changed hands, so there was no way it had hit the county recorder’s database yet.

“Let’s go over to the Pueblo Street house,” he said.

Delia didn’t ask why, only replied, “All right. Let me get my purse.”

When they got there, everything seemed to be in order. Or rather, the place was just as much of a wreck as the last time he’d swung by. Although he’d gotten things set up with Raul Martinez, the general contractor, work wasn’t scheduled to start until next Monday, and the house was utterly deserted.

“Well, at least the demons didn’t come over here and trash the place,” Caleb remarked as they walked through the living room, where pallets of drywall still sat everywhere.

Delia grinned. “How would you be able to tell?”

About all he could do was return the smile, since she definitely had a point there. “This is why I don’t think they’ve been tracking my every movement, or they would have learned I’ve been coming and going from here even if they wouldn’t have been able to tell I bought it.”

“How much do demons know, anyway?” she asked, pausing by the pantry after they’d crossed into the kitchen.

“Depends on the demon,” Caleb said. “The ones who’ve been attacking me — they’re lower orders of the creatures, powerful enough to do some damage, but they’re nowhere close to omniscient. The farther up the rung you go, the stronger demons get…and they get smarter and wiser, too. The princes of Hell were once the highest order of angels, so they pretty much know everything going back to the dawn of time.”

Or at least, that was the general impression he’d gotten from his time in Hell. Before they’d all been banished, he probably wouldn’t have even known that much. His father hadn’t wanted to talk about their demon heritage, except to explain some of the powers that had come down to his son along with his demon blood, and Caleb had sometimes wondered if that was because his father hadn’t known everything, either. Yes, Daniel Lockwood was half demon, but he’d been born on this plane to a mortal woman and didn’t have any firsthand experience of the underworld.

Well, he was getting it now. Caleb didn’t think he could even bring himself to care about that, not when it was his father’s fault that they’d all ended up getting sent there in the first place. The original demons who had been Belial’s lieutenants had returned to the underworld once they thought they’d established a good beachhead on this plane, and with them gone, there really hadn’t been anything to keep Daniel Lockwood and the rest of the cambions — half demons — to settle into their ordinary lives and act as if they weren’t anything except normal, everyday humans.

But no, Daniel had to go after that goddamn Project Demon Hunters footage…and everything went in the toilet soon afterward.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re only dealing with the minions right now,” Delia said lightly.

“True. It could be worse.”

On the other hand, it could be a lot better, too.

Her phone pinged from inside her purse, and she pulled it out and glanced down at the screen. “Pru thinks I’ve lost my marbles…but she also has two suggestions for me, along with their contact information. So I guess I should call and see if I can make an appointment?”

Thank God they hadn’t been forced to wait until noon or later. Delia’s P.I. friend must have decided to get up early today.

“That would be great,” Caleb said. “Unless you want me to do it?”

She sent him a slightly indulgent smile. “I call people all the time. If I had phone anxiety, I’d be out of business pretty fast.”

He supposed she had a point there, so he only inclined his head while she touched the screen again, presumably so she could call one of the numbers Pru had given her.

For a moment, Delia stood there, phone pressed to her ear, but then she lowered it, looking annoyed. “It just went to voicemail,” she explained. “I’ll try the next one.”

“Okay.”

She touched the screen again and then lifted the phone to her ear. This time, though, she spoke soon enough, telling him that someone had picked up on the other end.

“Hi,” she said brightly. “I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if you had any appointments available now, or maybe in the early afternoon today? A friend and I would like to come in.”

A pause, and Caleb felt himself tense. What if the psychic didn’t have any open appointments today?

Then maybe you’ll crash at Delia’s house again, he thought, a not entirely unwelcome prospect. No, it wasn’t as if anything had happened between them, but there had been something almost cozy about hanging out there together, even when they were just standing around in the kitchen and drinking coffee.

“Oh, perfect,” she said next, “we can be there in about fifteen minutes. Okay — good. See you then.”

She returned her phone to her purse and sent Caleb a brilliant smile.

“We’re in,” she told him. “Her place is over in Angel Park, so we need to hurry.”

While relief didn’t exactly sweep over him, he had to admit he felt a lot better. Maybe the psychic wouldn’t be able to help them, but at least now they had a plan of action.

“All right,” he replied. “Let’s go see this psychic.”