Demon Bait (Keeley Thomson) Page 15

  "I should get in touch with her soon. The Second Crucible was passed. Well, I did. I haven't heard about Darla yet. She better, or that's going to be pretty embarrassing for her at the next Halloween party, don't you think? Being shown up like that by me, her former apprentice."

  That got a small smile, and a nod. "That it would, I do think. She is a formidable Greater Demon however, so I like her odds. Now, what did you really come for? Baking lessons? You could use a bit of work... Not that..."

  She smiled and looked around, the whole place just getting ready to actually come alive, with preheating ovens and white walls making it very bright, given the time of day.

  "Not this time, but if you have a free day soon, I should get with you on that. I made some cookies for the police force in Sparks, my new territory. I'm planning to go in and grab a bunch of them up today. So, I thought that I'd take treats, to soften the blow. I was thinking pink pastry boxes?" That got Clara to scowl, and then run to the back, calling out questions about how many cookies there were, and if anyone had nut allergies. She didn't know that last one yet, and just said so, because it wasn't a minor point. It would be bad form to grab someone and then let them still suffer from those. They could be fatal to some and she could end them in an instant with a few well placed commands. If she did it right, they'd never even know that she'd done it.

  What she got instead of generic pink boxes were shining silver trays. They were made of plastic, but had clear covers on them and along with some real lace were turned into very refined, and not that girly looking, food transport devices. Clara demonstrated how to plate the cookies too, since her thoughts about Keeley's baking were not all that high. She was better than most, but not better than even an average Hsreth that way. Not on presentation either, it seemed.

  Still, she accepted the trays, and offered to pay for them, which Clara declined, not wanting to be made into a slave again, for being rude.

  "At least market rates for them, plus a bit for showing me what to do? Call it a hundred?"

  "Oh, no... That... If we do that, well let's see... Forty-two and change? I'd need to look at the receipts to get closer than that, but somewhere around that mark."

  They agreed on fifty then, which was about right, considering it wasn't a retail store. Then, before leaving, she asked for a pad and pen and wrote down her new number for the woman and her son. Glen. He looked like a slightly younger version of her Hsreth friend. Both seemed to be about forty, or possibly fifty, so they normally passed for siblings. They looked too alike for anything else really. All Hsreth did, since they reproduced asexually. It pretty much meant there was only one of them, after a manner of speaking.

  "There, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call. I'll try to check in every few weeks, just to make certain all is well. Oh, I don't have anything planned right now, but I'm making some new friends, and might want to have a party in a few weeks? Do you have any open time slots?"

  They didn't of course, because it was Clara's Catering and people often booked a year in advance or more just to have them at their events.

  "I can simply cancel someone however, if it's needed. How many will the party be for?"

  "Oh, I don't know, ten to twenty, at a guess. I'll pay for extra and... You know, what I really want to do is get my own house person. Do you know any Hsreth that would consider working with me? I pay well, and I promise not to make employees into slaves. We can negotiate that, if need be, so they'll know that it's a fact and not just words." She had been planning to simply take one, but a lot of Clara's kind were afraid of Greater Demons. For a reason, but it wouldn't hurt to let Clara at least see her try not to be her greatest fear, first.

  "You know, if you aren't too worried about skill level, I have a great niece that's looking for work. She's not seasoned, mind, being only about fifty, but she did call the other day, looking to get in here. I don't have the need right now, and working in a private home is a fine first real job for her, not that she's out in the world. Would you like me to set that up for you? I think that Zack will take her to you, for free even. I... asked the other day, what the rates might be for things like that, and he hugged me. At first I thought he was going to require my body for it, since I can't possibly pay in cash, but then he just chuckled and said that I could go wherever I wanted, at any time. Not that I would, but for my family..."

  Keeley didn't mention that Zack shouldn't be that nice to her, unless he was going to get something out of it himself. He might have been angling for that great niece even, if he were smart, which he was, so Keeley asked if she could use the phone there, and made a long distance call to his book store.

  She didn't get him, but rather a familiar and rather sultry sounding vixen that made it sound like Keeley could be in for a very good time, if only she'd show up there that day. It was probably true too, since it was a young Alede on the other end. A succubus.

  "Hartley and Co. Books. This is Kaitlyn, how may I... serve you today?" It was slutty sounding, more so than the woman normally went with, as if she'd accidently called a phone sex line, rather than a place that sold works of great literature.

  "Hi Kait, this is Keeley. I was wondering if Zack was in? I want to make sure that he wasn't angling for the Hsreth that I'm planning to hire for my new place. Speaking of which, when are you coming to visit? If you come I'll let you play with my posse of new slaves... Humans, but all drug addicts. Or at least they were. I should also have some police later today, so that could be promising."

  "Oh? Well, that does sound like a nice change. We can get together for a girls night... I'm free... Tuesday and Wednesday this next week. Does that work for you?" There was no asking about what would really be happening, just the instant assumption that she was going to come. It would have been nicer if the girl was doing that because they were pals, but they had a bargain worked out, and while Keeley didn't really need for any of her new Humans to be serviced, she did kind of want to see a friendly and familiar face or two.

  "Perfect. Tuesday at seven then? In the evening. Make sure to get a nap first. Now, is Zack around?" It turned out that he wasn't, but she left a message, asking him to call her about it, so that she wasn't sniping his people, if he had designs on the Hsreth woman.

  That would be pretty rude, and while it wouldn't start a fight between them, it might just make him a bit miffed at her. In general, that kind of thing needed to be avoided.

  That done, she collected another hug from Clara, since the woman was never going to trust her if she were too stand-offish physically, and then gathered the gear she needed for the baked goods. It took a bit of effort to drag the things through the lines with her, but not more than she could handle. About halfway there though, she looked down at the things, and really focused on them. They were plastic and not heavy, but there was drag on the lines from them. She moved almost normally, which... When she looked at the silver glow, didn't make sense. She was filled with bright energy and shone, compared to the things in her hands, which kind of drank energy in this space.

  Not a lot of it, and not forever, the stuff making vortex ripples behind her as it moved. It tried to bump out of the line however, as it passed each of the potential portals back to reality. With a bit of focus, she did something a bit strange, and gathered energy from the lines. Not just whatever was there, but the specific vortex ripples that otherwise tried to escape behind her. Then... It was suddenly a lot easier to move. Faster by far.

  Feeling, if not smug, then at least kind of proud of herself for working that out on her own, she headed back to Sparks and her new home. Then packed things up, doing it carefully in case Clara ever asked about it, and moved to the front of her little, modest, but now nicely appointed, home. Opening the door, the first load of cookies stacked four high in her hands, she stopped, unable to see suddenly.

  It was a large blue glowing magical... Thing. Inside her head, too. At first she nearly threw down the cookies and ran, but something stopped her. A sense of the whole thing be
ing... Right.

  Even though the words were completely phony.

  They had to be.

  Because right there, in front of her, floating behind her eyes so brightly it wasn't easy to ignore, in her own handwriting, was a message.

  "Angels are real, and you can't remember them. Get with Gregor... He is one."

  Right, because that wasn't going to end up being a trap? The scary part however, was wondering who in the world was good enough to put something that complex in her mind? Worse, they'd made it seem like she'd done it, perfectly. Even using her own magic for it.

  That meant whoever was trying to fool her wasn't just better than she was, but so good that...

  Really, she wasn't sure that there was even a way to quantify things like that. It was far too great a barrier to wrap her head around.

  Chapter eleven

  She nearly panicked then, standing in the bright sunlight after she got the front door open. It was a nicely warm day, since June in the area was, but there was a hint of a breeze, and the heat wouldn't be brutal yet, she didn't think. Not in Sparks. The light was clean and bright, and washed away her troubles for long enough that she regained her internal composure, and started making plans.

  First... Cookies. It was a bit of a lame way to get into the Police Department, but a young looking girl with food could do it. Even if they didn't want to eat it, fearing poison, or some kind of trick, like all of them having pot in them, it would be enough to get herself in the door. True, she could have just walked in, but it never hurt to seem to have a reason that others could understand. Hence the baked goods and obviously trying to ingratiate herself.

  Then she needed to take some slaves, check her new crop of people who would be waking for the day soon at their former drug den... And get in touch with the real Gregor. That part wasn't going to be simple, however. If someone wanted her to do it, then they'd need to have control of the situation, wouldn't they? Or at least think they did. Unless, of course, it was all about something else, like distracting her from her own concerns?

  That wasn't too likely, however. Yes, she was tentatively set up to banish some people, if she could do it without dying, but Tarsus wouldn't be setting her up to fail, she didn't think. Not in this. Or... Well, it could all be a trick. That was a major problem working with her own kind, she was beginning to truly understand. They were all a bunch of lying, manipulative, bastards. Even the ones she liked. Even she was, come to think of it.

  That normally would have made her feel better, or at least reminded her to have a sense of humor, but at the moment she had to use a bit of her own magical power, which reminded her to draw energy from the reality around her, into the top of her head. Circulating the force derived from that and trying as hard as she could to integrate it. It was far from perfect, but if she did it daily, and made herself really try to do well, it could eventually be worth doing. For the time being all her real power came from what she ate.

  Like how most beings did it.

  With focus she let herself shield her mind, using several different magical techniques for it, including a rather showy one that caused the air around her to ripple away in what seemed to be heat distortion waves. Most people would miss it, since that wasn't normal, but if they did see it, they'd most likely just rub their eyes. It was a rare Human that could see what was really in front of them and not reject it.

  Which... Was in the blue message in her head. That hadn't gone away, and she didn't try to remove it yet. Right there, in her own handwriting, in white letters on a bright blue background that reminded her of a computer monitor, it stated it all pretty directly. Greater Demons couldn't understand Angels and would reject the very idea. It... Well, she didn't think of them as real, did she? That wasn't proof they were, but for the time being, she had to keep an open mind, if it were at all possible.

  Then, it also said that Gregor, The Cleric, was that kind of being. That part seemed a little more unlikely, didn't it? Yes, he'd invented the whole Christian religion, but if it were real, she'd see the signs of it, right? She had to think for a while, but it was actually true. If that was a real faith, and not just an imagined construct, then there would be real effects on the world. There simply weren't. That didn't mean there was no god, which was a thought that she'd had more than once before.

  At least nothing in her memories told her it wasn't possible. Of course, if Greater Demons just couldn't handle the idea... Well, then Tarsus wouldn't have added a lot that way, would he?

  Her mind fairly buzzed, even as she got to the Police Station. She walked the first part of the goodies in, leaving her trunk open, since no one would try to steal cookies from cops. That was insane, and could end up with an accidental shooting. Or so she thought. She wasn't ten feet away when a rather angry and unshaved man reached right in and took a tray of the things, looking ready to run off.

  Moron that he was, no doubt. They were literally not twenty feet from a group of armed officers.

  "Hey, you." She didn't yell, and smiled when he looked up. "Get all of them, and follow me. It will be worth your while."

  "Um..." He didn't start out by telling her to get fucked, or running, so she just winked and turned, walking off, toward where he came from. After a bit there was the sound of the trunk closing, and feet marching behind her. Slightly labored breathing, which seemed a bit off, given that he was decently thin and in-shape looking. Not clean and tidy, but given that he'd probably been locked up all night, that was only to be expected.

  Inside the station she expected some problems at first, walking in with a clearly disreputable man, and carrying what might just be thought of as poison laden attack cookies. That was just because no one there knew her yet, naturally. Once they got used to seeing her, once or twice a month, that would go away. Except that this was her territory, and she needed to have firm control over it, fast. There were thousands of ways to do it, but she was the Mistress of Souls, and needed to get that practice Tarsus had suggested in, as well as test her own limits. The greatest number of slaves she'd ever held at once was about ten, which she had at that very moment. It could have been a stress on her system, but magically speaking she didn't even notice a drain from it.

  So, smiling a little, she reached out with her mind and tried to see what would happen if she did more than that. A whole lot more. It was probably a bit too ambitious, and unneeded, but she smiled and took everyone in the place, while just standing there, holding her treats. Including the man behind her, since she was nice that way. Then she gave the normal instructions, about how no one was allowed to struggle or plot against her, or tell her a lie. Ever.

  She felt the links sink home, one by one, but in such rapid order that it was nearly the same as grabbing a handful of loose ends and tying them all together. Smiling a bit, she found the one she wanted in her mind, which she made glow green, in order to keep it separate from the blue of the rest of the police that were now hers. It got a nifty blue stripe, along the edge of that mental image, so that she could keep track of him. He was a man, which wasn't unexpected, but older than she would have figured. About retirement age, and a bit fat.

  She realized that when he bustled out toward her, his face puffy, and with folds along his earlobes, which indicated heart troubles. The Chief of Police for her new city.

  "Hello? I see you brought treats? They smell great! I'm Bob Severn. Call me Bob. And you are, miss?" He didn't know that she was his master, of course. He wouldn't, unless she asked him to do something he didn't want to. Except of course that she could do it a bit more smoothly than that, and use mental suggestions with him, so he wouldn't have extra stress over it.

  "I'm Keeley. Keeley Thomson. I'm new to the area, so thought I'd make some friends, using bribes. We should find a place for these..." She hefted the trays a bit, which got the man to look at them as if they were filled with gold coins, not bits of flour and sugar. Still, hunger was one of the most attractive and hard to defeat drives for most creatures. It was an innate pu
rsuit that never ended.

  Chief Bob loved to eat, too, so it made sense that he'd be interested. He also glanced at the girl holding the things, but didn't pay too much attention to her that way. Enough that it was clear that he enjoyed pretty girls, but not so much that she worried about him being a pedophile. Not that someone thinking she looked pleasant would be that. She wasn't prepubescent. More to the point, for all that her face still looked young, her body had been designed to fit the popular ideal of attractiveness. On purpose. Blaming someone for noticing that was less than fair.

  The man in front of her was polite about it and showed her to a counter in the break room, which was loaded up quickly enough, with the trays being left in a long row for people. They'd get the idea, with no need for a note, or anything that crass. They were presentation trays of food, and after the first one was opened, the rest would go in quick order.

  In all the trip in to that point had taken ten minutes. Chief Bob smiled at her a lot, as she did the work herself, her new friend Clint holding the silver things behind her. She waited for the boss of the place to motion to him, with a skeptical expression on his slightly dark tan face. The wrinkles were impressive for a working man, even one close to retirement age. She touched his mind and nearly winced when she realized that he was turning seventy the next month, and didn't plan to live for too much longer than that. It was why he'd kept working, even with his health problems. There was just no reason not to.

  So, as they all stood in the light blue and white place, the silver trays with their clear covers gleaming on the counter, she turned to him and made a big head gesture toward Clint.

  "What was he here for, do you know?" That wasn't the case, of course, since neither man was exactly in the circle of the other. Clint was so low on the crime totem pole that he really didn't get counted as more than a mild annoyance by the force.