Gods and Demons (Dark Streets Book 1) by BR Kingsolver

Author:BR Kingsolver [Kingsolver, BR]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

Torbert showed up with Wen-li and Bronski the following morning, just as the last of my crews pulled out of the compound. I invited them into the cottage and put on another pot of coffee.

“You look a lot better than you did last night,” Torbert said.

“I’m still a bit tender.”

“So, what happened?” he asked.

I nodded to Isabella, who told them about Nieminen, Jennie, and the demon while I poured coffee for everyone.

When she finished, Torbert said, “Her name was Jennifer Watkins, age thirty-six, divorced, no children. She owned the house.”

“You said there was a demon,” Wen-li interjected. “We found demon blood, but what happened to the demon itself. Did it escape?”

Isabella looked to me.

“It was a major demon, an old one. We killed it, cut off its head, and then it laughed at us and disappeared.”

I gave them a little time to digest that.

“Some legends say that major demons are immortal. You can put them in a blender, but they reincorporate.” I shrugged. “I’ve never studied demons, and that’s the first major demon I’ve encountered, so I’m not an expert. I saw one when I was young, but a mage fought it. My mother wouldn’t let me watch the battle, so I don’t know what happened to it.”

Bronski was usually very quiet, but he pursed his lips and said, “Dave told us that you said we can trace Nieminen using his blood. I’m not familiar with blood magic. Is this something you can do?”

My respect for his magical skills dropped even lower. I wondered if the man had ever studied his craft.

“It’s not blood magic. I was referring to a simple tracking spell. Hair, fingernail clippings, anything that was physically a part of him would work, but blood works the best. I’m sure any competent magic user could do it.”

As they were leaving, I drew Wen-li aside. “I know that Bronski has magic,” I said, “but I’m astonished that he didn’t know what a tracking spell is.”

She bit her lip and glanced in his direction. “Yeah. Kind of strange.” She didn’t say anything else, but I could see concern in her face.

I went back inside the cottage, where Isabella had cleared the table and was washing the dishes. My shirt irritated my burns, so I took it off, poured a glass of lemonade, and sat in front of the air conditioner.

“I can’t believe that you jumped on a fire demon and didn’t even singe your whiskers,” I said. “Must be nice to be a demigod.”

Isabella smirked. “Demigod is not exactly correct.”

“Not fair,” I grumbled.

“Some people are born with great beauty, others get immunity to fire demons. Life is fair in its own way,” she said.

Not feeling particularly philosophical that morning, I said, “I don’t trust Agent Bronski.”

“Which proves that you’re a good judge of character,” Isabella said. “I wonder how long he’s been working with the PCU.”

I gave her a raised eyebrow look and waited for her to clarify. In response, she chuckled, then said, “It might be interesting to find out if he volunteered to work with them before or after Weber put the statue up for auction.

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