Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3) (25 page)

I stared down at the ring in his palm. “Like, ‘La, la, la?’ sing?”

“Like an insistent hum of sound here.” He pressed his hand gently between my breasts.

I kissed him once more and thanked him. “Be careful. Don’t Dream if you don’t have to. Ellison is cut off from the Source but he’s been around for thousands of years. Even without that power he’ll be wily.”

“I am a hunter. I accept the risks with open eyes and knowledge of the dangers, though I understand where your concern comes from. ‘Be careful,’ can hold power, like a talisman. So I accept the gift of it.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful, Devany.” He smiled. “Go. We shall both of us hunt and when the time comes, do what we must to survive.”

I hugged him tight, then dressed and hooked back to my bedroom, where the sun was just peeping over the horizon. I showered, changed, went downstairs to make the kids breakfast when they got up for school. All the while my mind was on Kroshtuka. How incredibly together he was. If I didn’t accept the gift he was offering, I was a dumb ass indeed. A guy who accepted who I was without question. Who supported me?

Should I pinch myself?

Snickering, because idiotic thoughts warred with serious ones, I whipped up a batch of pancake batter, and added Kool-Aid to stain them blue, since we were out of all the red stuff. I hoped the kids wouldn’t mind a variation on an old theme.

I wondered if they would like Kroshtuka?

I shook myself, and concentrated on getting the pancakes cooked. My thoughts wandered to Dad, and I burned a couple, stinking up the kitchen until I got the fan over the stove turned on. Muttering, I stared at the pan with a ferocity that was probably unwarranted, but damn it, I didn’t want to have to mix up another batch of batter because I couldn’t concentrate.

The kids came down, no more excited about having to go to school than yesterday. I fed them and sent them on their way, wondering what kind of schooling they could get in Odd Silver. That thought led to all sorts of complications, such as how to explain to Tom’s parents where I was taking their grandkids.

I’d be Scarlet O’Hara and think about that tomorrow. I had other things to deal with.

***

After seeing the kids onto the bus, I worked around the house, cleaning, straightening, washing laundry and folding. I checked Kroshtuka’s ring obsessively but it stayed silent. The phone rang though, and on the other end, Danni was crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“They found him.”

I sat on the couch, my legs suddenly unable to hold me. “Oh.” I forced my brain to work. “Is he back in jail finally?”

“No.” A sob. “He’s dead. They said he was beaten to death. Tortured. I think they suspect me, Devany.”

Anger threaded through me. “They couldn’t possibly think you did that. You’ve been home all this time with Zech. There’s no way.”

She sniffled. “Why would someone kill him like that?”

Because he was an asshole who deserved every broken bone, every ripped piece of flesh. “I don’t know.”

“They want me to come in today for questioning. They want to know if I did this to him.” Her voice changed and I heard the pure, unadulterated fury in it. “I suffered years of abuse from him. Why do people think that victims want revenge? If anything, I’d think victims would want justice. Not revenge. Because they know what it feels like to be hurt.” A staggered gasp of air, a swallow. “Would you go with me to the police station? Please?”

“Of course. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“Yes. Otherwise I might turn tail and run away from this. How could they think that I—?” She didn’t go on, or maybe she couldn’t. Emotion rode her hard.

“I’ll be there. Just let me know when.”

“All right. Thank you, Devany.”

As soon as we hung up, I hooked to the Slip, looking for Ty, needing to talk to him, to settle my thoughts about Harrison and what we’d done to him. He was outside, stripped to the waist, punching a heavy bag hanging from the porch. His scars from Ravana crisscrossed his flesh in livid reminder of her evil.

“They found Harrison,” I said as I leaned against the house, watching his fists pummel the bag, his muscles jumping under his golden skin.

He grunted but didn’t answer, the only sound his fists hitting the bag.

“I’m going with Danni to talk to the police. They want to ask her some questions.”

Still no reply.

“Tytan.”

He paused, hugging the bag with one arm to stop its swing. “What do you want me to say, Devany? You want me to comfort you, tell you everything will be okay?” He smiled tightly and let go of the bag. “Perhaps you should go visit your hyena man.”

Dear lord. “I did that already.”

“Ah. And he didn’t satisfy you?”

“He helped me find myself again.”

“Good for him.” He hit the bag so hard it swung out almost parallel to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing why I was apologizing, exactly. He didn’t answer and I wasn’t sure what to make of Mr. Crankypants. “I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t be a stone cold killer.” A dark part of me disagreed, but I pushed the thought away. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you hurting me, either.”

“I would never hurt you.”

The emotion in his voice rocked me back a step or two. Emotion? “You don’t have a soul, Ty.”

“I didn’t have a soul when I saved your life, still snugged warmly in your mother’s womb.” He turned on me. “I didn’t have a soul when I kept my mouth shut for centuries while Ravana did her damnedest to flay me alive for hiding you.” And then he was only inches away from me when he said, “And I didn’t have a soul when I kept her from killing you only months ago. Do you understand? We are connected, you and I, whether you like it or not.”

I never said I didn’t like it, I thought, then remembered he could read my mind again, now that Jasper wasn’t keeping him from it. “I can’t. If I say yes to you, I turn my back on all the bad things you’ve done. Look what we did together. We killed two human beings.”

“Two pieces of trash who deserved to die.”

I paced away from him, removing myself from the temptation of his closeness. “Will they find anything on his body to implicate me?”

“Why do you think I would let that happen to you?”

“Because you don’t have a soul. Because you threatened to hurt my kids if I didn’t do what you said, remember that? Because you bring out the evil in me and it scares me.”

He turned away from me and it hurt, it physically hurt to see it. I kept myself from going to him, just.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

“Go. If I find Ellison, I will let you know.”

I left before I could make a gigantic mistake, like forgive him or forget the person I was—or tried to be.

***

Danni and I were met in the lobby of the police station by an officer and escorted into the bowels of the OPD. A few dozen twists and turns led us to a small room crammed full with bookshelves, desks, and cop. The detective stood, nodding at the officer who’d accompanied us, then waved his hand at the chairs in front of his desk. We squeezed in and I immediately felt claustrophobic. Thank heavens there was a window, or the room would have been turned into an insanity maker.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Crawford. I’m Detective Warwick. I just have a few routine questions for you.” He nodded at Danni as if she were a little kid about to get a shot that he was reassuring. ‘Just a pinch. You’ll hardly feel it.’

“Harrison was an awful man, but he didn’t deserve to die that way.”

Detective Warwick nodded and opened up a notepad. Then he pulled a black digital recorder from his middle desk drawer and laid it on a stack of papers between himself and Danni. “I’ll record this interview and take notes.” He said it as a statement, but I held up a finger.

“She doesn’t have to consent to it, right?” He leveled me with a stare that made me want to curl up in a tiny ball and never say another word. ‘Neutria? Can you lend me some menace?’ The spider inside me chittered and moved forward in my mind. Whatever he saw in my eyes made him lean back a fraction of an inch.

“No, she does not. And may I ask your name, ma’am?”

I glanced at Danni, wondering if she would be angry if I refused to give it to him. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to avoid it, but I did. Unfortunately, I didn’t think I had a choice. “Devany Miller.”

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it. I wondered if it would spark a memory with him. Tom’s death in the park had been big news, especially since his murderers had seemingly vanished into thin air. He didn’t say more, just picked up the recorder and flicked it on with a thick, yellow nail. “This is Detective John Warwick.” He rattled off the current date, location, and our names. Then he set the recorder down again and picked up his pen. “Tell me a little about your relationship with Harrison.”

It was a rough hour but I was pleasantly surprised at how good he was with Danni. He knew when to pause, when to back off. He drew answers from her as skillfully as a gardener plucks weeds from between the rows of veggies, and I found myself leaning in more and more as he asked and she answered.

To my inexpert ears, Danni was totally innocent. I knew she hadn’t killed her husband, because Tytan and I had done so. But still, hearing the answers to his questions made me assured that there was no way they could believe Danni would do something so heinous.

When the questions wrapped up, the detective time stamped the interview again before shutting off the recorder. Then he took a few notes, leaving me to pat Danni on the shoulder and tell her she did well. When the silence dragged on, I cleared my throat, trying the polite way to get him to acknowledge us. When that didn’t work, I asked, “Are we done now?”

“Just a moment, please,” he said and kept writing.

I wondered if this were some sort of test and if we were passing or not. I somehow doubted it. I stood, unwilling to play the game. “I’m tired and have to get home to my kids. Danni? Let’s go. I’m sure the detective can write without us here.” I didn’t usually get so pushy but honestly, who the hell did he think he was, anyway?

It got his attention. He stood as Danni did, lines of unhappiness forming around his lips. He held out his hand to Danni and when she took it, covered her hand with his other. “Thank you for coming down to speak with us. I appreciate your candor.”

She nodded and pulled her hands away, looking like she wanted to wipe them on her blouse. I held the door for her and stepped close behind her so he couldn’t crowd her. I wasn’t sure what the sudden change was all about. Perhaps he didn’t like that I’d chosen to ignore his authority.

I walked slow enough to delay him as Danni hurried out to the lobby. Zech hadn’t come, all of us deciding that it might not be a good idea for a guy without any papers and a distinctive face to lurk around a cop shop. Probably they wouldn’t even notice him, but better safe than sorry, right?

“Ms. Miller, a word, if I may?”

He’d caught me going out the door to the lobby. I stared after Danni, wishing I hadn’t walked so slowly after all. “Yeah?”

“How long have you known your friend?”

“A few years. Why? You don’t think she did this, do you? Because I can tell you she didn’t. She’s too—” I’d been about to say timid, which was true but felt disloyal. “Nice,” I finished lamely, and wished I’d just said timid.

He narrowed his eyes as he studied me and I knew he was trying to place me again.

“My husband was murdered a few months back. Is that what you’re trying to remember?”

The moment I saw his expression, I realized he’d been playing me. He’d known who I was the moment I walked in. “Right,” he said. “Another murdered husband. And the second one to escaped from jail and be horribly murdered.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This was too much like a bad detective movie. “Goodbye, Detective Warwick. Thank you for taking care with Danni.”

“So there’s no relation between the deaths?”

“Well, Danni and I know each other. Both of our husbands were murdered. But my husband wasn’t abusive and hers was. And that third?” I shrugged. “I have no idea.” If he’d talked to Marcos’ wife, he’d probably know she’d been helped by the Caring Shelter, and he’d know I worked there. Anything else he’d have to get a subpoena for and usually our lawyer got those quashed. “Maybe you should find the guys that got Harrison out and ask them what their intentions were when they decided to help that sadistic bastard escape.”

He didn’t say more, so I slipped out the door, and left him standing there staring after me. Did he think I murdered Tom? Or Harrison? I pushed through the front doors and cast about for Danni.

She was hunched on the corner by an ATM, her face pale.

“Hey, you did great,” I said, moving in close to block her from the curious eyes of passerby.

“It was awful. They think I did it, don’t they? Oh my god.” She covered her eyes with her hands and stood with shoulders shaking for a long moment. I let her cry and didn’t say a word. She didn’t like people seeing her cry. When the shaking stopped and her shoulders dropped, she lifted her face. “I wanted him dead and wished him dead so many times. Now he’s gone and all I feel is sick that he was tortured.” If anything, her face paled even more. “You don’t think Zech did it, do you?”