“Like the psycho pixies?”

“No, those are some sort of pest and can make their way through on their own if the portal is open. Which, of course, it was. I was referring to something bigger. With teeth. And claws.”

“The dog-thing,” Zack breathed, sitting back.

I met his eyes and nodded. “It’s called a kzak. And Zhergalet seemed to think that it had been pushed through when the wards were down.”

A series of expressions rippled over Zack’s face, too quickly for me to get any sense of what he was thinking. I glanced at Ryan, but his expression was nothing but stony, brow lowered in a frown. “So the question is,” Ryan finally said, “who or what pushed it through, and why.”

The waitress came up at that point, and we paused our conversation long enough to order ridiculous amounts of unhealthy food.

“It went from that portal to the Ice House,” I pointed out after the waitress had poured coffee and bustled off with our order. “Carl said that he’d fixed a broken window, so I’m guessing that it came through and busted out of the house. I think it’s safe to assume that it was specifically sent after one of us.” I paused, waiting to see if either of them would react or respond. Especially Ryan. Yet the baffled expression remained on his face. I looked at Zack. He didn’t look baffled, at least, just quietly thoughtful. “Unless you think that the busboy was somehow the target of an arcane attack?” I said. I could feel myself getting frustrated and snarky, and I fought to control it.

After a couple of seconds with neither of them saying anything, I took a deep breath and continued. “It’s … possible that it was after me. Rhyzkahl has asked me to be his summoner, which would increase his status and power. If an opposing lord wanted to thwart that, then the easiest way to do it would be to remove me.” I shrugged lightly, though I sure as hell didn’t feel in a light shrug kinda mood. I glanced at Ryan, nearly daring him to react negatively to the reminder that Rhyzkahl wanted me as his summoner, but he didn’t react at all.

“Or it could be after me,” Ryan said, voice low and rough. “For whatever reason …” He trailed off, then lifted his eyes to mine. “Kara, I swear I’m not holding anything back from you. I honestly don’t know.”

I gave a short nod. Oddly, I believed him. I turned to Zack. “What about you?”

Zack blinked. “I wasn’t there when it first attacked. It couldn’t have been after me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No, but you sure as hell knew what Ryan was doing afterward.”

A pained expression flickered on his face as he shook his head. “Only because I’ve seen him do it before, after other … odd encounters. We’ve worked together for several years now. There’ve been quite a few of those.”

I sighed and slumped back in the chair. “Well, the portal should be sealed enough so that no more of them can be pushed through.”

The waitress came back, sliding pancake-laden plates in front of each of us. Once again the conversation was suspended, this time because we were all too busy stuffing our faces.

“What about the psycho pixies?” Zack asked after a moment. “Those came through on their own?”

“Apparently so. They’re called hriss, and I get the feeling they’re like psychic arcane mosquitoes. Make you tired. Just one won’t kill you, but a bunch of them could suck you pretty dry of potency.”

Ryan’s expression darkened. “Wait. Do they eat potency? Or life force?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it, mentally replaying Zhergalet’s difficult-to-follow explanation. “You know, I think the demon was referring to essence.”

“Maybe a herd of them is loose and sucking people dry?”

I pondered it, then shook my head. “No, that wouldn’t explain the … rending. Plus, the faas seemed to think they were more annoying than anything.” Then I frowned, an unpleasant thought occurring to me. “But I’ve learned that an essence-eater could become stronger by consuming another essence-eater …” I decided to leave out how I’d learned that.

“We were talking the other day about how the killer has changed,” Ryan said. “First he was killing them and then sucking their essence up, and now he can kill them by ripping the essence out. Something changed.”

My stomach spasmed painfully, and it wasn’t because of too many pancakes. “You think that the killer got into my aunt’s house, found the portal, and somehow got his soul-eating ability beefed up?”

He shrugged. “I’m just offering up a maybe.”

I shoved my fingers through my hair. “Shit. I’ll ask Zhergalet tonight.” I opened my bag and pulled out the scrawled page with names and lines and circles. “In the meantime, I keep looking at how these murders are connected.”

Zack peered at the page. “Looks like you have a lot of possibles and not a lot of probables.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Tell me about it.” I was beginning a deep and morose pondering of the situation when my cell phone rang. “Detective Gillian.”

“Hi, Kara,” a perky voice chirped. “This is Annie at the lab in Slidell.”

It took me a couple of seconds to figure out what lab she was talking about. “Oh, oh, right, the DNA lab! Sorry. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to give you a heads-up about your request. I’ll be writing my official report, but I figured you’d want to know that there was no match.”

It took me a few more seconds to process that. “Wait, which case are we talking about?”

I could hear her shuffling paper. “Um, Carol Roth, homicide. And we had a reference sample for Brian Roth.”

I felt like my thoughts were moving at half speed. “No match. So she did not have sex with Brian before she was killed?”

“Well, I can’t tell you if there was penetration or not. Dr. Lanza would have to be the one to determine that. There wasn’t any seminal fluid, so if she did, her partner was likely wearing a condom. But we tested some pubic hair that had been collected and the saliva that was swabbed. The pubic hair had a root, so we were able to do a comparison. It matched the saliva but didn’t match your reference.”

At least I’d been right about that much. Brian was murdered to protect whoever Carol was having sex with. Didn’t help me much, though, except to confirm what I suspected.

I almost missed what Annie said next.

“Wait, back up,” I said. “What?”

“I said that it was close. It wasn’t a match, but it was pretty darn close.”

“What does that mean?” My pulse quickened. I remembered just enough about DNA from college biology that I had a feeling I knew what it meant, but I wanted her to say it.

“Well, it’s highly possible it was someone related to your boy.”

I could almost feel my mouth hanging open. I wanted connections, and here was a whopper of one. I said something that may or may not have been articulate, then closed my phone, gripping it tightly. A rictus of a grin stretched across my face as I felt the pieces click into place.

“Good news?” Ryan prompted.

“In a roundabout way. The DNA on Carol Roth didn’t match Brian’s.”

He frowned. “And how is this good?”

“It was a partial match. There’s a good chance it was someone related to him.”

“Looks like Daddy Roth has been a bad boy,” Zack murmured with a smile.

“He killed Carol,” I said. “It may have been an accident, but he killed her.”

Ryan held up a hand. “But do you think he was capable of killing his son? I know it’s tough to know what goes on behind closed doors, but it sure seems like the two of them were close.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “He wasn’t so close that he had a problem screwing his son’s wife.” Excitement coiled within me as possibilities fell in line. “Plus, the surveillance video from Brian Roth’s subdivision shows Davis Sharp’s car entering at about eleven-thirty that night and leaving about twenty minutes later. There was someone with him too. What if it was Harris Roth? What if Harris panicked after he realized Carol was dead and called his buddy—who also happened to be his biggest political supporter?”

Ryan looked disbelieving. “I’m still having a hard time buying that Harris would be willing to murder his own son—or have him murdered—to cover this up. Screwing your daughter-in-law is one thing, but Roth looked pretty devastated at the funeral. I’m not sure he could have faked that.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to consider another possibility. “But what if Elena wasn’t having an affair with Harris Roth? What if it was Brian instead? Then perhaps Davis killed Brian for screwing his wife?”

Zack raised an eyebrow. “A crime of passion … where he kept his cool enough to go ahead and stage it as a suicide to cover up Carol’s murder?”

I grimaced. “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t fit. And Elena was attracted to ‘powerful men.’ Brian didn’t really fit that bill.” I dropped my eyes to the paper. “Harris Roth is the connection to all of them. I still think Davis Sharp was somehow involved in Brian’s murder, but it doesn’t make sense yet.” Perhaps this was why Elena had been so afraid? Maybe she’d known who killed Brian. “But at least now we have something solid to work with,” I continued. I looked at Ryan. “I figure we can get a warrant for a DNA sample to run a proper comparison, plus a subpoena for Harris Roth’s cell-phone records.”

“With the partial DNA match, I’d say you’re right.”

I nodded. I wanted badly to nail Harris Roth for everything—tie all of the murders up into one nice and neat case—but we didn’t have enough proof yet. “I’ll start typing,” I said. First, nail him on Carol’s death. Then make him squeal on the rest.

Chapter 32

The subpoena for the phone records and the warrant to request a buccal swab from Harris Roth didn’t take long to type up, but it took me nearly as long to figure out what I was going to say to my sergeant. I dialed his number as I paced Tessa’s sitting room, grimacing when Crawford answered on the second ring. This would have been a lot easier to do on his voice mail. But it wouldn’t have been the best, my conscience reminded me.

“Sarge, it’s Kara Gillian.”

“What’s up?”

I quickly explained the DNA results and my theory. Crawford gave a low whistle when I finished. “Damn, Kara. You sure don’t think small, do you?”

I grimaced. “I know. But you gotta admit it makes sense.”

“I can see where you’re going with it, yes.” He paused. “Kara, I hate to point this out, but the Carol Roth murder isn’t your case anymore.”

I could feel myself stiffening. “Sarge, I know, but the detail with the surveillance video and the—”

Crawford cut me off with a sharp laugh. “Don’t sweat that shit. Fuck Pellini and Boudreaux. Lazy, useless fucks. I’ll take care of any heat that comes down about you horning in on the case. Especially since it started out as yours. Easy enough to deal with.”

I let my breath out, relieved. “Thanks, Cory.”

“But, Kara,” he continued, “if you’re wrong about this, you’re killing your career. Even a buccal-swab warrant is going to be a big slap in the face for a public figure of that stature. I’m not gonna tell you not to go ahead with this, but I want to be sure that you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” I said, trying to fill my voice with as much confidence as possible.

I heard him sigh gustily. “All right. I can meet you in about half an hour at—”

“Sarge,” I interrupted him. “I … think it would be better if you, um, didn’t come.” I cringed at how that came out. But there was no easy way to put it. If Harris Roth could kill by ripping essence out, I didn’t want to risk having someone there who had no way to defend himself or even know if he was in danger.

“I’m your sergeant, Detective Gillian,” he reminded me, tone distinctly frosty.

I framed my words carefully. “Sarge, you once said that you’d seen a lot of shit in your career, and you were probably more willing than most to believe that some things defy explanation.”

He was silent for several heartbeats. “And … this is one of those things that defy explanation?” I could hear the disbelief in his voice, but I thought I could also sense the barest edge of acceptance.

“It is, Sarge. I … I just need you to trust me.” I rolled my eyes at myself. Holy crap, but that sounded lame, even to me. “Look,” I said quickly before he could say anything else, “when all of this is over, I promise I’ll give you as much explanation as you want.” If you really want it, I thought. And if everything works out.

He fell silent again, but I could hear background noise, so I knew we hadn’t been disconnected. “Is Agent Kristoff going with you?” he said finally.

My shoulders sagged in relief. “Yes, he is.”

I heard him sigh again. “Fine. Keep me posted. I’ll cover as well as I can if there are any questions.”

He was hanging his own ass on the line for me as well, I knew. “Thanks, Sarge.” I didn’t add anything trite like I won’t let you down or you won’t regret it. There was too good a chance that either or both could happen.

“Be careful, Kara.”

“I will.”