Page 76 of Higher Demon

“Did what—I’m sorry, did you say the assistant’s name was Lore?” Kieran asks.

“Lorn.”

“Thank you. Did what Lorn see identify the reason for the attack? What I’m asking is, are we certain it’s connected to his questions about the Highetts, and not a tragic coincidence?”

“Lorn distinctly heard Vestia say that Titus should have stopped poking around. That’s why they went to Wist.” I hesitate. “Regardless of whether Vestia is the demon behind the Highetts or not, her attack on Titus is a bad sign for the truce.”

“How?” Ian asks, dread all over his face. I want to sit beside him and hold his hand, partly to reassure him, but mostly for my own comfort. I need him right now.

But that would be the fastest way to derail this conversation, and I don’t have the time or patience to fend off his brother tonight.

“Titus is—was a gentle demon. He had no political ambitions, no thirst for power despite the fact that he had quite a bit of it. He liked peace, showing off his house and gardens, and reading. He loathed Cato because of the unrest he caused, and he hated that it forced him to take a side and act.” A lot like me in that regard. It’s no surprise that we were such good friends. “He had a lot of friends.” Unlike me. “People liked him because he threw great parties, always had the best gossip, and never hesitated to help out. He was a fount of interesting knowledge.” I shake my head. “Vestia burned the house down because the energy of her violent act would have been discernible. If people knew she’d murdered Titus, they’d turn on her. They’d want to know why. They might try to strip her of power or even kill her in return.”

“And why is that bad?” Connor’s watching me closely, his eyes narrow. “Specifically for us, why is that bad?”

“Vestia is the current leader in Crmærdinesgh. The demon I report to.”

There’s a little silence as they digest that, broken only when Norval disappears suddenly. I hope he hasn’t gone to get his ghost friends.

Ian glances at his brother, then back at me, biting his lip, and I shake my head very slightly. He wants to come to me, I can tell, but now’s not the time. Later, I’ll need him.

I’ll always need him. That terrifies me.

“I’m not sure I completely understand,” Gabe confesses finally. “What do you think Vestia’s motives are? If sheisthe one behind the Highett family, she’s obviously been spying on the Collective for a long time. Was she associated with Cato?”

“No. Every known associate of Cato is dead. I oversaw that myself.” With a great deal of satisfaction. “She fell into a group of higher demons who remained neutral during that entire affair. They stayed out of all the fighting, and then after, when the time came for a new leader to rise, several of them joined the fray.” I smile thinly. “I and several others, including Titus, waited to see who had a good chance of winning and also fit the best with our own goals before we gave our support to Vestia.”

“None of you wanted it for yourself?” Connor’s question is sharp.

I shudder. “No. It’s bad enough that she turned around and stuck me with the role of ambassador. Leadership is not something I want.”

“Clever of her, though,” Kieran muses. “She got you out of the way.”

Having only just put that together myself, I resent that he got there so much faster. Although he does have a clearer picture than I did before. “Yes. I realize that now.” Titus’s veiled warnings also make a lot more sense. If he’d known anything for certain, he would have told me, but he must have had some clues. It makes me wonder what’s been happening back home that I don’t know about.

I reach out to Wist. Given the danger if they returned to Crmærdinesgh right now, I told them to wait at the estate. Skye can communicate with them if necessary, and it’s safe enough there. There’s one thing I need to know right now.What’s the political climate like at home right now? Specifically attitudes toward humans and Earth?

Wist’s neutral mental touch is hesitant.Uneasy. There have been a great many reports of demon murders by humans. Fear of summonings is at an all-time high.

That simple statement speaks volumes. The number of demon deaths here on Earth has been at an all-time low for the past six years, in part due to the lower number of gateways after the barrier was rebuilt, and also because of the work I’ve been doing with the Collective. Rumors can be started by anyone, but all Vestia and her people had to do to quell them was to release the actual numbers, the details I’ve been reporting. More, she should have mentioned the growing anti-human sentiment to me. This is the opposite of what she told me.

“Based on this and the current climate in Crmærdinesgh, which she was very careful to conceal from me, I believe she may be planning something nefarious.” I choose my phrasing carefully. I told Ian to call his brothers together for this rather than going to the council of the Collective because I need this kept quiet for now. No chaos, no panic. But if things take a turn for the worse, they’re in a position to act fast to prepare the Collective for war.

Not that I’ll let that happen.

Before they can respond to my statement, Norval reappears. He’s less solid than usual, and an old, worn, leather-bound book thuds to the floor. “Diary,” he mutters before disappearing.

“What the fuck?” Connor exclaims, leaping to his feet. “Kier, call and ask if he’s gone back to the estate.” He moves toward the book, but Ian gets there first, scooping it up and carefully opening the cover.

“He went to get the diary.” He looks at me. “Whatever you’re planning, just wait a few minutes. Let me see if I can find Vestia’s name in this—or anyone’s. You need to be prepared.”

“Ten minutes,” I allow. I’ve already delayed longer than I wanted to. My advantage right now lies in Vestia not knowing that I know. The more time she has to consolidate and plan, the harder this will be.

“What is that?” Gabe leans over to see as Ian sinks back to the couch.

“Norval advised us this evening that a diary reputedly belonging to a member of the Highett family had been found in the archives at the York compound,” I explain. “We were considering the best way to get hold of it.”

“Oh.” Gabe puts his head together with Ian, and they murmur quietly as they skim the faded, spidery handwriting.

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