Page 70 of Demon Hunter

In the end,the plan is a simple one. We don’t need anything fancy—not with two higher demons on our side. When Gus expressed concern that his grandfather has circles set up to trap demons who might sense the presence of their kind and come poking around, Marc actually smiled in amusement, while Raum nearly choked on his laughter. Apparently, there isn’t any human strong enough to create a circle that could contain Marc, even if they had his true name. Which is outright terrifying, even if he is on our side.

Gus makes a list of all the branches of the company and several other companies, adding numbers of how many demons will be in the “dorms” at each, and which of his family members will be there. They seem to be concentrated more at their head office, with the satellite branches usually only having one adult hunter-capable human, or a married couple with their children. That’s going to make things simpler—once we take down the bigger group, the rest should fall like dominoes. The most complicated part is going to be erasing the electronic trail of their existence. As far as the rest of the world needs to know, this family is going to disappear into thin air, and their companies never existed.

I’ll be working on that for a couple of days.

Raum makes a quick trip back to Crmærdinesgh to prep his team for an influx of traumatized demons who’ll need to be properly identified, gently debriefed, and then returned to their families.

With all that, it’s just before midnight when we arm up—Marc retrieves our gear from the house—and even though Matt keeps looking at me like he wants to suggest I stay behind, there’s no fucking way I will. We need all our eyes and ears, and I’m the most sensible option to stick with Gus. Marc and Raum vouch for his trustworthiness, but he’s still pretty much an unknown.

So’s Raum, for that matter. If he didn’t have so much respect for Marc, I’d worry about him going rogue on us.

It’s too late for worries now—we’re in the “compound,” as Gus calls it. Looks like a posh mansion on a dozen acres of land to me, but this is where the family live and keep the “local” demons. The office location is where they do the actual summoning, though. If we’d stormed that building, it would have raised alarms here, giving them time to take the demons and flee—though Marc got offended at the idea that any alarm system could outwit him. We’ll go there next—the circle needs to be destroyed and all evidence of any demonic activity erased. But first…

“They’re all asleep,” Marc murmurs. He looks at Gus with the same surprising compassion he showed before. “They will simply not wake.”

Gus’s nod is short and sharp. He assured us that only family members lived here and visitors were strongly discouraged—which makes sense, since the staff are demons. “I’ll show you where the safe is,” he says, moving through the shadowy entrance hall toward a door.

“Coming,” Ian says, then leans in close to me and whispers, “Stay with Marc.”

I don’t have time to question that before he and Matt are herding Raum after Gus, while Marc hangs back slightly, then gestures me toward another door. Following, I’m only a tiny bit surprised when we enter and see an old man dozing in an armchair.

“As undeserving of mercy as he is,” Marc says softly, “I will give it, and you’ll witness that. But his victims deserve that he know fear before he dies.”

Ah. “Gus’s grandfather?” The one who killed his own daughter for daring to suggest that trafficking demons wasn’t ethical. “I wouldn’t be upset if he knew more than just fear. Pain, maybe. Lots of it.”

Marc’s smile isn’t a nice one. He crosses to stand in front of the armchair, folds his arms, and waits.

A second later, the old man jerks awake. He blinks a few times in confusion, and then his eyes widen in alarm. “Who are you? Get out of my house!”

Still smiling, Marc lets his demon presence show, and alarm turns to outright terror. This man, so determined to fly under the radar, has probably never faced a higher demon, but he knows that what he’s facing now isn’t something he can beat. Not alone.

Which is why he opens his mouth to call for help—maybe even call on some of the visier demons in his control.

Not a sound emerges.

“I have frozen your vocal cords,” Marc informs him conversationally. “In a moment, I will stop your heart and you will die. First, understand that your family and its barbaric legacy will die this night. None who take pride in the centuries of abuse will live to see the dawn. Those enslaved will be freed and returned to their homes and loved ones, and every atom of proofthat Geoffrey Martenson and his descendants ever existed will be wiped away. You will be the nothing that you sought to make others.”

The old man is perfectly still, but the frantic movement of his eyes makes me think it’s not by choice.

“By your deeds, you have sacrificed enough of your soul that you will never reincarnate. These are your last moments of life. I hope you loathe them.”

From the way his breathing begins to saw and sweat breaks out on his skin, I’m guessing Marc’s messing with his brain. I want to care—this is another human being—but knowing what he’s done to so many innocents who were just trying to live their lives makes that hard. Instead, I watch as the freakishly still and silent man slowly dies, racked with pain that has no cause and that he can’t express.

And then he’s gone.

Before my eyes, his body crumbles to ash that breaks down further into dust, until it truly seems that nothing is left of him.

I clear my throat. “Good work.”

Marc turns and strolls back toward me. “Better than you know. His mind was a cesspit—truly, he is a descendent of the man who devised this scheme.”

“Are the other family members here just as gone as him?” I jerk a thumb toward the lack of evidence that a body even existed.

“Yes. Once we’ve searched the house thoroughly for evidence, I’ll ensure all the furnishings meet the same end. It will look as though they moved out and abandoned the house.”

We can do better than that, but it’s a discussion for another time. “Let’s get the ledger, free some demons, and move on to the next place.”

We find the others in what looks like a study, crowded around a wall safe. “I swear I can crack it,” Ian’s insisting. “Let me try.”

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