Chapter 24

Dylan

Matt clutches the doorframe as if for balance, and I can't say I blame him. "That's not what I was expecting you to say," I confess. "Uhh… I think it might be time for me to sit down." My knees consider right here in the hallway to be a good spot, but Matt puts his arm around my shoulders and gently pushes me into the room?—

And stops. Because there's another armchair, but one of us will have to sit beside Raum on the couch. I'm not ready for that, and I'm pretty sure Matt isn't either, so when I let my knees win the fight and sink to the rug beside the coffee table, he joins me.

"Okay," he says, then pauses. "Okay. Maybe we need the full version after all."

Raum resumes his seat on the couch, and Marc sinks back into his armchair. Ian perches on the arm. "The ‘full version,' as you call it, would take far too long. It's my understanding that human lives are somewhat limited."

I elbow Matt before he can make a smartass comment. We need to keep things moving, not get derailed by insults. Though, if this guy is going to stick around, I'll need to do nearly as much work on his image as I'm doing on Marc's.

He's not sticking around, right?

Putting that aside for the time being, I say, "Sure. So… the relevant facts we need to know, then." I pull out my phone. "Do you mind if I record this to refer back to later?"

Raum's eyes narrow. "That is a communication device, correct?"

"Not spent much time on Earth, huh?" Matt mutters, but I ignore him.

"Yes. It has other features as well." If he wants a lesson in Earth technology, I'm his guy, but I'd prefer it waited until after the demon trafficking conversation.

Demon trafficking. Holy Jesus Christ in a bucket. That's not a thing I ever thought would happen.

Raum, meanwhile, seems intrigued by my phone. "By all means, do record. Perhaps you could share the recording with me later? Such a device would be fascinating."

Note to self: set the new higher demon up with a phone and watch what happens.

"Perhaps we could…?" Marc prods, and Raum nods.

"For what amounts to the past century in Earth years, I've been assigned to the missing persons department, my primary role being to investigate the whereabouts of any demon, spirit, or other being reported missing by their loved ones. Shortly after taking the job, I noticed that one of my cases had several similar factors to an older one that remained unsolved. Unfortunately, I was unable to make headway on either of them, but over the years, other cases that crossed my desk had those same similarities. Approximately forty years ago, I requested that any case with those factors be assigned to me, as I considered them to be linked. My supervisor agreed." He pauses, probably because I've picked up my phone and am rapidly typing notes to myself. I don't want to interrupt his flow, but I've got questions.

"I'm not certain how much you all know about the situation in Crm?rdinesgh prior to the change in government when the barrier was rebuilt, but many lesser demons and other species didn't feel that our police force would aid them if they needed it." His expression turns sour. "They had good reason—a great many of the missing persons cases that did get reported turned out to be at the hands of Cato and his government"—he spits that word as if it tastes foul—"and we were effectively powerless to help. The regime change allowed us to work to rectify those wrongs, and within the past year especially we've begun to see a true shift in how others perceive us. More and more beings are coming forward in the hopes that we can help them, and I've received an influx of new cases—that sadly aren't new. Demons have been missing for centuries but their disappearances were never reported."

"And those missing demons have the same factors as the cases that concerned you?" Ian asks.

Raum nods again. "The majority of them, yes. The best timeline we've been able to establish to date is two demons missing per Earth month for the past one hundred and seventy-nine years." His mouth twists in disgust. "It may go back further, but the records just aren't there."

I do rough math in my head. "That's over four thousand demons. You think they're here, on Earth?" No way.

Beside me, Matt shakes his head. "The Collective would have noticed that many—a lot of them must have been banished already." He pulls a face. "Two demons a month… that could slide under the radar, I guess, but it's still a lot of summoning activity. Gatekeepers would have noticed—hunters would have noticed. What makes you think it's humans trafficking them and not just random idiots summoning?"

"All humans are random idiots," Marc interjects idly. Ian pinches him.

"You're supposed to say ‘present company excepted.'"

"Am I?"

"There's a pattern," Raum says, casting Marc a sidelong glance. "These particular demons are from three species only—visier, ternerum, and carnarius."

"All species that are humanoid," Matt murmurs, and while that's true, my mind has gone in a different direction. Visier demons are known for their strength and stamina, ternerum demons for intelligence and fine motor skills. Carnarius demons, though… they're where the mythology about incubi come from. In basic terms, they're sexy as fuck. Which means these people are monsters on every level I can think of.

"Yes," Raum agrees. "In some cases, there were witnesses to their summonings, and those witnesses report that the summoner wore a hood to conceal their face?—"

"Cultists, maybe? Some of those mystic wannabe demon worshipers?" Matt suggests, but Ian shakes his head, face pale.

"—and leather cuffs around their wrists," Raum finishes. My heart sinks. "We have also managed to trace the site of the summoning, and it's the same in all these cases."

"You can do that?" Matt asks, even as I perk up. That's useful information.

"Not for a single summoning, or even dozens. But once the number reaches a hundred or so, there are ways to cross-check, yes. I cannot prove every one of the demons on my list was summoned to this site, but the other similarities remain, so I consider them to be related cases."

Looking down at the notes I've taken, and considering all the background data he hasn't given us, I can't disagree. "Are you sure about the leather cuffs?" I ask desperately. Haven't we done enough to stamp out corruption in the Collective? How could this have slipped past us—we've been working exhaustively for nearly seven years to track down everything that might be a sign of hunters behaving badly.

"Yes." Raum's answer is firm. "I have seen the memories myself."

That's a road I don't want to go down, so I pretend I didn't hear it.

"Other people wear leather cuffs, though," Ian points out. "I'm not saying it's not a person or people within the Collective, but we can't disregard that it might not be." He looks at Raum. "Unless you have something that could prove it?"

Raum shakes his head. "No. Like you, I cannot assume it isn't, but I personally believe that if this was hunters, they would be killing the demons, not enslaving them."

I nod before I realize that doesn't make sense. "Wait… how do you know they aren't?"

Raum casts a surprised look at Marc. "They don't know?"

Ian's boyfriend shrugs. "It never came up." He turns his attention to me. "When a demon outside of Crm?rdinesgh dies, their loved ones are made aware. It's the last action of the demon's essence before it dissolves."

There's a little silence as we all stare at him. Finally Ian says what we're all thinking. "What the actual fuck?"

Raum looks confused. "Actual fuck? What is a non-actual fuck?"

Before we can get too far off track, I say, "So we know these demons are alive. And obviously, if there were over four thousand demons just roaming around the planet willy-nilly, we'd have noticed." I hope. "Which means it's safe to assume that whoever summoned them knew what they were doing and designed the circle appropriately."

Matt rubs his brow. "None of those species of demon are lacking intelligence, even though you call them lesser." He shoots a snarky glance at the two higher demons, and I bite my tongue to keep from saying that we also call them lesser demons. He's feeling bitchy, and I kind of like bitchy Matt. It's a kink. "Since they're not stupid and are unlikely to have freely given the information needed to control them, do we also need to assume that whoever summoned them has hunter abilities? Whether they're part of the Collective or not."

I want the answer to be no—I really want it—but logic dictates otherwise. Which means it's not likely to be a random satanic cult. Not unless they have someone with abilities among them who's managed to learn a hell of a lot about summoning and controlling demons. It's possible, but unlikely—that type of knowledge is usually hard-won with a lot of deaths, like it was in the Collective.

"I would say so," Marc agrees. "Raum? Do you concur?"

"Yes." Raum nods. "You know more about humans and humanity than I, but I've built detailed profiles of all the missing demons, and with a few exceptions, none of them would be foolish enough to surrender their true name or autonomy to a human who'd summoned them."

"That still doesn't tell us if this is a problem within the Collective or not." Ian stands and begins to pace, frustrated. "Until we know that for sure, we don't know if it's safe to use Collective resources. Fuck, I can't believe we're back in this situation again, not knowing who to trust."

Marc sighs. "As much as it pains me to admit it, we could probably trust your brothers. Connor might be annoying, and he might hate demons, but I don't believe he'd be involved in enslaving them. He is… honorable." The word seems to stick in his throat, and at any other time, I'd be amused.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves," I say. "You said you were able to pinpoint the location the demons were summoned to. That's helpful information. If it's in the middle of a compound, we know this is a problem within the Collective. If it's somewhere else, though, somewhere random, and you can tell me approximately when each month the summonings take place, I can run some searches through our GPS and work out if any hunters were near there. That won't alert anyone—not the way I'd do it—and it might give us a clearer idea of what we're dealing with."

"GPS?" Raum asks.

"A tracking tool," Marc replies.

"That's not what it's for," Matt snaps, then hesitates. "Exactly."

"But that's what we'll use it for in this case," I add, then look expectantly at Raum. "So… where?" Hopefully it's not Antarctica or somewhere, because I wouldn't even know how to get there to kick these people's asses.

Raum hesitates. "I don't know the name of the place. I can point it out on a map."

It's a race to see who grabs their phone first, me, Ian, or Matt. Marc, of course, doesn't lift a finger, just looks bored.

"Okay, I got this," Ian declares. "iMaps, don't fail me now." He slides his fingers over the screen, then goes to sit beside Raum. "This is Earth. Here's how it works"—he demonstrates how to adjust the map size and location—"so turn the globe until you think you're close, then start zooming in."

The expression on Raum's face is pure fascination as he takes the phone from Ian and begins to search for the right place. "Here," he murmurs, then clumsily zooms. "No, that's not right."

"Zoom back out a bit, and go slower," Ian suggests, showing a surprising amount of patience. He watches for a second more, says, "That's it," then glances toward us. "They're in the US."

Matt sighs. "Of fucking course."

I know what he means. Sure, it makes things easier for us, but it sucks to think that our own countrymen are doing something this vile.

"Narrowing it down to the East Coast," Ian reports. "Wait, not the coast… the Midwest. Ohio." He shakes his head. "Seriously? Why the fuck would you enslave demons in Ohio?"

"Your priorities are skewed," Marc says mildly, but Ian's not listening.

"Columbus… wait… Jesus, when you said you could pinpoint the location, you weren't kidding. Are you sure that's it?"

"As sure as I can be without seeing it personally," Raum replies stiffly, and I wonder if Ian just insulted him.

"Well, a street address is pretty damn good, even if you're off by a few blocks. Dyl, you still recording?"

I glance at my phone. "Yep. What's the address?" My search won't be that specific, of course, not to start with, but it won't hurt to have the information.

Ian rattles it off, and an alarm bell rings in my head. "Say that again?"

"What's wrong?" Matt asks. He reaches toward me, but stops short of touching me, like I might be contagious or something. I don't have time to devote to relationship problems right now.

"What was it again?" I demand, and Ian exchanges a troubled look with Matt but repeats it.

Fuck me. I switch apps on my phone and search for a website. "Ian, does that location have a business name?"

He blinks. "Uh… yeah. SuperTask LLC."

I turn my phone so they can all see the website for SuperTask, and more importantly, its slogan: Our staff work like demons to get the job done!