Keeley Thomson (Book 2): Keelzebub Page 2

  That got another sigh as her new sister made a silly face at her.

  “You need more, don’t you?” She said, as if it was only obvious, even though it had been a vast amount of food already.

  “Yes. I feel like a pig though. Eating this much I mean. I should feel sick, but…”

  “Don’t let it worry you, I’ve got some peanut butter ice cream, would that do?”

  “Yes. Please.” The please got a smile from the woman, a genuine looking thing that reminded her a little of seeing a child with a brand new toy.

  “OK. How about this, I’ll go get that and you just sit here and wait for me while I do the work, sound like a plan?” It was just in a conversational tone, but Keeley shook her head.

  “No. That is too close to making a deal. If we’re going to do that, I’ll just stay here and you can signal that you want to be my slave forever by moving in any way at all… go ahead and move if it’s a deal.” Keeley grinned. She’d been wanting to see if that would work at all, but Darla just shook her head.

  “Nope little sis, that won’t work on one of us. Good call though, catching that. By the way, that kind of thing can work on some creatures, not humans, oddly enough, unless you’re really old and powerful. Durgs though, so keep that in mind if you have to deal with my homecoming date at some point. His kind are tough to kill and about twice as strong as we are. The grown up Demons I mean, not you. So keep that in mind. Really easy to enslave though, so they tend to avoid our people like it’s going out of style.” She stood and went into the kitchen, speaking the whole time.

  “Really, that’s probably a good sign that Quince doesn’t know about either of us. He’d probably leave the city if he did. Unless he’s working for someone powerful enough to keep him from being stolen away. So another of us, if that’s the case.”

  She came back with a giant glass bowl, heaps of ice cream in it, with a lot of real whipped cream on top, sprinkled with finely chopped nuts and a hot caramel sauce.

  Keeley practically drooled at the sight, but after the first bite shook her head.

  “Wait, I know for a fact you didn’t have any hot caramel ready, how did you manage this, you weren’t gone for three minutes. Magic?”

  “Indeed. A new type of device. Called a microwave. Really a miracle invention. You can do a lot with them if you pay attention to how they work. You just have to remember that it’s more like steaming food than roasting. Anyway, back to what I was saying, which was moving toward the idea that one of us should enslave Quince, just in case.” She waved at the dish in front of Keeley. “Since someone here can barely keep themselves fed yet, I’m thinking it might have to be me. Really, I don’t know if I need an Acadian Apple of my very own, but I’m sure I can find something for him to do. Besides that way Balthias won’t feel jealous and think you’re already replacing him.”

  Keeley just nodded and pushed her glasses up with a single finger, only to find that she wasn’t wearing them. She didn’t need to any more. Right. They’d fixed that already. It was still strange though. Worse, no one had noticed at all yet, not even her parents. You’d think, after ten years of seeing her with them on her face, day after day, one of them might notice, but so far nothing.

  She’d have felt unloved, except for the fact that she really didn’t have a clue what she was going to say when one of them did notice. They knew she couldn’t have contacts or corrective surgery, not yet. They should also realize that if she’d just been going without, she’d be walking into walls all over the place. Of course, she was currently avoiding her father as much as possible, being more than a little mad at him. Finally Keeley had managed to get a few friends, after most of a life without and what does he do?

  Forbids her from seeing them.

  Like that would work. They went to school together after all. Plus she had responsibilities now, some of which involved them.

  Like helping with the Homecoming dance in two days.

  That and help rig the football game.

  Rob, who’d been her date to the dance, because his boyfriend Gary didn’t have the bust line to really pull off a proper dress, and the school officials were more than a little conservative, had been killed. That meant the team had dedicated the game to him. It made sense; he’d been one of them after all. It would help morale a little if they won and hurt the whole school for a long time if they lost by too much.

  Worse, the guys that had probably killed him were from Wilson, the school they were playing against. Probably on the football team. They didn’t know that for certain though, so retaliation was off the table for the time being. Once they found who did it, Darla had already shared that she planned to kill them. Or it. Whoever or whatever they were. Keeley didn’t blame her one bit.

  Rob had been one of hers after all. One of Darla’s people. Someone she was grooming to work for her later in life. She’d already invested over a year on the boy and someone had just come and taken all that away. Yes, Rob’s life too, which was more important, at least to Keeley, but by Demon law and social rules, killing someone marked as hers meant that Darla could extract a price. That being anything she had the power to make happen, no matter who it was that had done it.

  That, of course, was a lot. Much of what might happen being far more unpleasant that Keeley wanted to imagine. Not that she had too. Another Demon had “gifted” her with a store house of knowledge, one that floated outside her, but she could call on at any time. It was hard to use, because it was the memories of dozens of Demons, maybe all of them, plus a whole host of other creatures, thousands of year’s worth. Millions really. So a lot of it didn’t exactly make sense. Funny though, how to torture people and various other beings just popped right to the front with a casual thought. It was something Demons were known for, so had a lot of information related, making it easy to find.

  If Keeley didn’t know better she’d have started to think her new relatives might be slightly less than good and wholesome individuals all the time.

  “So… Any idea how we’re supposed to get our team to win against Wilson? I keep coming up with no more than a fifteen percent chance of our guys winning. They kind of suck. Maybe thirty percent if we get Quince to actually use superhuman abilities during the game, but even a good quarterback isn’t enough. Someone has to actually catch the ball, right? We can’t really just have him throw it between the goal posts or something…” It was actually a question. Keeley didn’t know a lot about the games rules. She could run the numbers of wins to losses and add in made up sums to approximate the human heart and desire to win, but it still didn’t seem very likely.

  Her sister went still.

  “I’ve been trying to find Rob’s killer. I get that we need to win, of course, but haven’t thought about it yet. Do you have anything? I’d suggest we not kill anyone. It will affect my area too much if a bunch of school children start dying. Even the one that’s happened already and the few beatings in the area have started an under currant of fear. I’d like to avoid adding to it simply to win a game.” Reaching over with her own spoon she stole a bite of ice cream.

  Keeley shrugged.

  “Get a few key players expelled? It would take something pretty drastic, to make sure that they don’t get to be in the game, but that should help a lot. Our team can beat their second string. Or, to be more honest, they have a fair chance of doing that. Wilson is probably going to take one of the top couple of places for the state this year. Before you ask, I know this thanks to the power of the internet. I looked it up. Go team Google.”

  That got a smile at least. Keeley was glad, funny wasn’t always her best thing.

  “Short time schedule, what did you have in mind?”

  Keeley looked down and blushed. She actually had an idea, but it was kind of resource heavy and would take using some of Darla’s “friends” to get it all done in time. Taking a breath she decided to just dive in and hope it wasn’t stupid. Her sister would tell her if it was, no doubt.

  “Well, I was
thinking, if, and this is all up to you of course, but if we took some alcohol and put it in a few of the key players cars, or lockers, then arrange for your friend Roy or maybe some other people that work for him to casually notice it and make an issue? It’s kind of a catch and release thing here, minors in possession, especially if the police can’t prove ownership. Even drunk kids don’t get charged with anything really, but if it’s just before the big game and the Chief of Police decides that some kind of example should be made…” Roy was the Chief, so if he was in, that might work. Keeley looked back down and shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

  “That might be a little over the top. If we can assure that they won’t be really harmed by it though, no time in detention or anything, just not allowed to play in the game?”

  Darla didn’t say anything for a long time. She didn’t look angry about the idea of using her friends to do something that petty at least, after a while, she just nodded.

  “We can do that. Get with Roy and set it up. You should be able to find him at the police station. You can take him some donuts. It’s a gag gift, but he’ll get it. They all will. Actually pick up a couple of dozen. Can you handle the rest?” Darla said it gently, which made a lot of sense.

  After all, Keeley had never bought alcohol before and doubted she could actually manage it at all. Well, not on her own. She had funds though, so maybe she could get help with it? Bribe a street person or something?

  “I think so? I’ll go do that now, I guess. Do you think Roy will still be at work?”

  “I do. Hurry though, you have to be home by eight or your father will think you were at a gangbang.”

  “I know. The sad thing is, I’m not absolutely certain what that is.” She really didn’t, but Darla laughed at her anyway. Her look must have given away the fact that she really had no clue.

  “Seriously? Well, you have the Internet. Just make sure to clear your search history or he’ll think you’re making plans for after the dance.”

  Keeley nodded, feeling a little nervous. Somehow, in her entire life, she’d never had to go to the police station for anything. It seemed bizarre that the first time she did, it was to plan a crime.

  She stood and took another half desperate bite of food, then set the spoon down in the oversized clear bowl and pushed her chair in.

  “Right. Well, I better be off then, if I’m getting donuts first.” She waved a bit, hoping that leaving the dish on the table wasn’t rude.

  Darla jumped up and gave her a little hug, made truly strange by the fact that no information came from her while she did. It was a racial trait. When they touched someone, they knew them. Everything about them, their memories, their goals, and desires. Nothing was hidden. It didn’t work that way when they touched each other though, thank God.

  Well, she would, except, of course, the Christian God might not be real. According to Darla anyway. Then she was kind of an anti-Christian bigot, wasn’t she? Keeley didn’t know why, and didn’t really want to bring the topic up.

  Why stir up problems on issues that she couldn’t really do anything about?

  Darla stepped back and patted her shoulder firmly.

  “Roy likes Bavarian cream. Make sure to get some in the mix, if possible.”

  Chapter two

  “May I help you?” The officer behind the desk looked both bored and bland, his salt and pepper gray mustache was tidy and the lines around his eyes made him look a little bit like he was a jerk most of the time, but his keen police observational skills had noticed the three large boxes she carried right off. The side of the giant pink things said they were from Sandy’s Bakery, which, in Keeley’s opinion, had the best donuts around. These were a little old having been made that morning, but still good. She’d eaten a couple on the way over, just to check.

  “Delivery for the Chief. If you could tell him Keeley Thomson is here to see him? With a dozen Bavarian cream donuts? I got the bar kind, I hope that’s OK?” She smiled at the man, forcing herself to remember what being calm and happy felt like. It washed over her so strongly her body responded without thinking about the specifics. She stood straight, relaxed, and as if she was just visiting her dad at work.

  “I brought some to share, by the way.” She looked down at the box and decided to go into a rundown of what was actually in the boxes if the man didn’t move soon.

  After looking at her a little coolly for a few moments the man nodded.

  “Got any Jelly filled?”

  “Of course. Who doesn’t get Jelly? Raspberry, cherry and lemon. Second box down.”

  The man held up a finger and hit a single button on his desk phone, a big thing that had probably been there longer than Keeley had been alive, it had an actual cord and everything. He held the well worn black hand piece to his right ear.

  “Chief? Front desk, we have a young lady here to see you a,” His hand went over the mouthpiece. “Sorry…”

  “Keeley Thomson.”

  “Right, Keeley Thomson, here to see you? She brought donuts… Send her back? Yes sir.”

  The man smiled and pointed through a single dark blue door to his left. The white tile had blue flecks in it, which was a bit ugly. It probably hadn’t been done on purpose, but everything about the place had been decorated to foster despair. The colors were all off shades, not pure colors of anything. It was teal, she noticed, not true blue, a color that people thought was soothing at first, but that could overwhelm a person and make their subconscious mind think of drowning. The walls were nearly the same color, the ceilings white, like the surface of water, if you were in too deep and had no hope of reaching the surface. The furniture was old and uncomfortable looking too, hard plastic in a brilliant orange that no one in history could have ever really liked, unless they were liars or blind. It made the nerves jangle and the whole place feel like death was about to happen at any second.

  Keeley headed toward the door and had to wait to be buzzed in, which would have made sense if she were going the other direction, where the prisoners were held, but she got the idea, it was to make the people on the far side of the door feel safer. Like the “criminals” their town had, a few drunks and some shoplifters most days, would be a danger? It wasn’t like this was a television program, was it?

  It took a bit to juggle the door handle and the boxes, but she managed with a little luck and a quick grab as the Bavarian cream box started sliding off the top.

  On the other side of the door it wasn’t hard to find the Chiefs office. He had a large silver name plate on the door. No matter what else the man was, his main occupation was clearly promoting himself as important. That meant, on some level, that he didn’t feel like he’d earned his place. Not really.

  Probably because he hadn’t.

  Darla had arranged for him to get the position twenty years before, which meant he couldn’t have been more than thirty back then. He was a decent looking guy, thin and in shape, with a healthy tan that didn’t fit office work or even a police chief’s salary. He also drove a car that had to be worth close to a hundred thousand dollars. She’d seen it before. It was a sweet ride.

  Even the man’s wife was something Darla had arranged for him. One of her old friends. Like Eve or Hally was now.

  So, yeah, she could see him having an issue or two there. In the main though, from everything she’d heard about, the police force really was run well in the area. Crime stayed low, and no one talked overly about the police breaking the law themselves. The cops didn’t even speed very much and from what she’d seen in life, that was kind of one of the normal perks of the job. After all, who’d be there to pull them over?

  Roy Benson, the name plate on the door said.

  Keeley stopped dead.

  She hadn’t seen that before. The last name. It was Eve’s last name. Her friend. More to the point, when she looked at the man in front of her, she could see the resemblance. It wasn’t some grand and obvious thing, they weren’t switched gender clones or something, but yes, the man in front of h
er was definitely Eve’s dad.

  The thing was, Eve didn’t have a father. Not that Keeley had ever been told about. Having the same name probably meant that Eve’s mother had been married to the man at one time too.

  Well, people did that. Got married, divorced and left kids behind like so much baggage.

  Keeley smiled through the glass of the door and waved a hand at the man awkwardly around the boxes. In charge or not, he jumped up to get the door for her before she could dump everything all over the blue carpeted floor.

  “Come in, please.” There was a sincere and pleasant warmth to the voice that hadn’t been there the last time they’d met. Of course this time no one had thrown a car against a house a half dozen times and then ran away.

  That could make a difference.

  Plus, she had donuts. The smell was driving her crazy.

  “Um, well, Miss Thomson. I recognized the name, of course... Normally Darla just calls if she wants something, is she alright?” He was really worried. A bit of sweat was creeping down his forehead already, almost as if he was panicking inside and trying to hide it.

  Also something she could see. Darla and he had a deal. If she died, he probably wouldn’t last very long, as the others swooped in to claim her stuff. Including him and his wife. Darla was a pretty good “friend” to have, but some of the others…

  “She’s fine. Working on an investigation. The boy that was killed last week?” Keeley took a deep breath and didn’t have to fake the slight shudder she felt. “He was a close friend of hers. One of her people.”

  “I’m sorry. Please tell her that if she needs anything I’m her for her.” He looked down and shook his head slowly.

  “I should do it myself. I could claim to be too busy, but… It’s just such a mess. One of the things I’ve never been able to really handle in this job. Murder just doesn’t make sense to me in most cases. Kill a kid because he might be gay? Why bother?” The man truly did seem shaken for a few seconds, so Keeley took the chance to set the donut boxes on a low table he had off to the right. There was nothing of note on it, a few papers and some folders. Not really reading Keeley made a point of memorizing the scene. It was something she’d always been able to do, if she thought about it. Make sure she remembered stuff.