Personal Demon

LUCAS: 20

ARMEN HAIG. The human chameleon. That’s what Elena said they’d called him in the compound. He could alter his facial features, not much, just enough to be unrecognizable. The parapsychologist at the compound had postulated-accurately, it would seem-that Haig was a forerunner of a new supernatural race. He’d also hypothesized that in a few generations, Haig’s descendants might not only be able to change their features enough to escape a police officer, but to kill that officer, become him and walk away undetected.

Elena had recalled that statement with a rueful laugh, because she could imagine few people less likely to need to evade the police than Armen Haig. A quiet and thoughtful psychiatrist, he’d been biding his time, planning his escape and trying to decide whether he could trust Elena enough to accept her help. Then the man financing the operation, Tyrone Winsloe, played one of his sadistic games-the sort that made Carlos look like an amateur.

He’d told Elena that Armen had escaped and tried to force her to hunt him. When she’d discovered it was a setup, he’d given her an ultimatum-hunt and kill Haig or be killed. Haig had saved her from making the choice by killing himself. The ultimate act of selflessness, committed for a stranger.

Apparently genetics was the only thing that ran in the family.

There was little doubt Jaz and Sonny had killed my brothers and exterminated their own gang to cover their tracks, just as there was little doubt they’d fulfilled that parapsychologist’s prophecy. They could become someone else.

There was no mention of the Haigs in the corporate files, but the Cabal had access to public, and private, records in the human world, with a search system that impressed even Paige. We found Armen Haig easily. He’d disappeared in the summer of 2000. Missing. Presumed dead.

We also found Jasper and Jason Haig. Born 1980 and 1981 respectively. Mother: Crystal Haig, niece of Armen. The boys shared a father, identity unknown, but from the DNA profiles, the lab suspected he’d been Crystal’s close relative. The third generation of a supernatural mutation, with both parents in the same bloodline, further accelerating development.

When the boys were preschoolers, their mother had started traveling and hadn’t stopped until her death, after a stint in a mental institution. Her records showed a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia. She’d had one overwhelming delusion-that her sons, who she claimed had “superpowers,” were continually threatened by shadowy organizations known as “cabals,” which wanted to kidnap and experiment on them, like they had her uncle.

There was no indication the Cabals knew anything about Crystal or her sons. But if they had, her fears would have been well grounded. The Cabals fought bitterly for custody of rare supernaturals. For a new mutation like this? They’d have destroyed everything-and everyone-in their path to get these boys. The fact that they hadn’t only proved they’d known nothing about them.

What stories had Crystal told her boys? What hatred of the Cabals had she instilled in them? It didn’t matter. Whatever environmental factors had gone into creating Jasper and Jason Haig, they weren’t children anymore. They were brilliant and ruthless killers, able to take on the form of anyone. A threat unlike any we’d ever seen.

I was working through the implications with Paige when a commotion sounded in the hall. I opened the door to see Karl striding down the corridor, smacking an open palm into the chest of a guard who stepped into his path. Griffin tried to elbow past, but I blocked him.

“Why the hell aren’t you answering your cell phone?” Karl snarled, advancing on me.

“My cell-?” I pulled it out and saw the ringer was still turned off from earlier.

“Where’s Hope?” Paige asked.

“That’s what I was calling about.” He planted himself in front of me, lips parted, teeth showing. “They took her.”

JASPER AND JASON had kidnapped Hope. It was easier to think of them that way, to divorce them from the image I’d already formed of “Jaz and Sonny”-harmless young men who’d been unwitting pawns in a battle between the gang and the Cabal.

Karl had been tracking Jason. As for how or why, he wasn’t about to waste time on explanations. He’d left Hope behind, and when Jason got into a car in a crowded lot, he’d noted the license and make, then hurried back for her. She was gone, and the spot where he’d left her had been rife with Jasper’s scent.

Karl’s black mood only darkened when he realized this revelation-that Jasper and Jason were alive, and coconspirators-did not surprise us.

Griffin said, “So Hope left with this guy and you know she was kidnapped because…”

“Because I know Hope.”

“Are you sure?”

Karl swung on Griffin. Griffin’s cheek twitched-the “tell” that he was activating his armor.

“There are other reasons Hope might go with Jasper,” Paige said.

Karl stiffened, and I knew Paige had been right about the nature of Hope’s developing relationship with Jasper Haig.

“She wouldn’t,” Karl said.

“What I meant is that she might have seen him and followed for a better look. Or maybe he approached her claiming he needed help and, still believing he’d been kidnapped, she went with him. Or maybe she realized he was behind this, and thought playing along was the best way to stop him.”

“She wouldn’t be that stupid.”

Paige flushed and I knew she was thinking of the times she’d done something “that stupid” trying to stop a crime.

She hurried on. “Whatever the reason, she’s with him and we need to find them.”

“No one’s even going to bring it up, are they?” Griffin said. “Maybe he-” a thumb jab at Karl, “-doesn’t see it, but we can’t go rushing in to rescue the girl without considering that she might not want to be rescued. Or that it’s a trap.”

“Hope isn’t involved,” I said. “Now, we need to make a list-”

Griffin strode in front of me. “Did you ever hear what happened with Dean Princeton, Lucas?”

“Yes, I did.”

“So you know? And that doesn’t change anything?”

“No, it does not.”

“Who’s Dean Princeton?” Paige asked.

“It’s not imp-” I began.

“Expisco half-demon,” Griffin cut in. “The only one who’s ever worked for a Cabal. When he was Hope’s age, maybe a few years younger, he was the nicest kid. Wanted to be a bodyguard, but everyone told him he wasn’t tough enough. He worked at it, though. Took a job in security. Got promoted to backup guard for Lionel St. Cloud. Then they started finding the bodies.”

“Dean Princeton has nothing to do with Hope Adams,” I said. “And to draw an analogy based on racial type is nothing short of prejudice. You cannot-”

“His racial type is what turned him into a killer! Are you saying that’s not relevant? Hope Adams is Lucifer’s daughter. She’s a chaos demon. Did you actually read the reports on Princeton, Lucas? Did you see what he did to those people? Hear all the witnesses testify about what a sweet kid he’d been once? Maybe you’re right, maybe this girl’s demon is still sleeping, but it’s going to wake up, and I’m not sure we should be in such an almighty rush to save-”

The last words were a strangled cough. Karl had Griffin by the throat.

“Hope is not Dean Princeton,” Karl said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I could trot out twenty man-eating werewolves for you. Does that mean all werewolves should be killed at birth…just in case? Where Hope is concerned, you stay clear. You don’t spread your stories about Dean Princeton, especially to her. If you don’t want to help find her, then don’t. But I’m going to and you won’t stop me.”

“We’re going to help you,” Paige said, laying her fingertips on Karl’s arm. “He’s thinking of us, not Hope, and we understand that. It doesn’t change-”

A cell phone ring. I murmured an apology, then realized it was Paige’s.

She frowned at the display. “A pay phone? Probably a wrong number. I’ll take this outside.”