Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian) by Diana Rowland

sort in him, but with everything else going on, now wasn’t the time to start exploring it.
    I abruptly realized it might have been a set up line for some insulting joke, and mentally braced myself for him to laugh it off with a not-so-veiled nasty remark or snide comment.
    “Okay. Good,” he replied quickly, almost eagerly, which only increased my feeling of
what the hell?
“I’m always up for a beer,” he added. Then he coughed, shuffled his feet a bit as if abruptly embarrassed. “Anyway, uh, keep in touch.”
    “Will do,” I managed, then forced a smile, turned, and walked quickly away, weirded out by more than just the dead body and Kara-trap.
A friendly Pellini?
    The fire had faded from my scars, but an annoying itch remained that no amount of physical scratching would relieve. I headed to Ryan’s car and waited for him and Zack to conclude whatever FBI stuff they needed to finish up. After a few minutes they joined me.
    Ryan’s demeanor was somber. “That shit,” he jerked his head toward the truck trailer, “is so wrong.”
    “On too many levels,” I agreed. The trap had been targeted at me, and it was a no-brainer to figure that the Mraztur knew I was back on Earth. After all, Kadir had been involved in sending me here. But how the hell had they sent word to Katashi’s people in time to have a trap set so quickly? I hadn’t left my property until this morning, so even surveillance on my house couldn’t explain it. Maybe one of Katashi’s people summoned a demon last night who told them? Certainly possible, though a lucky coincidence for them.
    I scowled. Or not a lucky coincidence. While I was in the demon realm, Tessa and I had mailed letters back and forth via demon-messenger once a week or so. However, Katashi had lots of people working for him, including plenty of summoners, which meant the Mraztur could have a minor demon summoned every day to exchange messages. Anger rose again, but this time at myself. I should have anticipated something like this. Of course they’d have some means of frequent communication.
    Score one for their team for setting the trap. Score one for me and my posse for foiling it. But score another for them for apparently having a better carrier-demon message system than us. Damn it.
    “Game on, assholes” I muttered to myself. I gave Ryan a determined and humorless smile. “Thanks again for the save,” I said. “I’m heading home. I have work to do.”

Chapter 7
    The drive home left me wrung out and bleak as both the nature of the murder and its purpose gnawed at me. And how the hell had the Mraztur managed to get an elaborate trap set for me so quickly? The body had most likely been planted in that semi-trailer mere hours after I arrived on Earth.
    As I drove, I considered the possible explanations. Okay, so Katashi’s people could easily summon a demon to pass messages on a daily basis. Perhaps they really were lucky enough to get a demon-memo about my trip to Earth immediately after my arrival? That was the only explanation I could come up with for how they had enough time to set a complex
rakkuhr
trap for me—one that required ritualistic murder and skills far beyond my own.
    Not that it really mattered
how
they accomplished it. They’d damn near succeeded, and would have if not for Ryan. I missed Mzatal, wanted him here—not to tell me everything was okay when we both knew it wasn’t, but to share this with him, get his perspective, his support, and simply feel his arms around me. This whole having a partner thing was damn nice, but I felt his absence keenly right now.
    As I parked near the house, I glanced in the rear view mirror and caught sight of Ryan’s car rounding the first curve of the driveway. I didn’t wait for him but trudged into the house and then to the kitchen, determined to do whatever it took to shake the numb, sick horror that threatened to swamp me. I opened and closed cabinets, stared into the fridge looking for something besides