Personal Demon Page 71

“When’s the last time anyone saw him?”

I expected him to say, “How should I know?” but the guard tapped the screen a few more times. “He requested dinner at seven-thirty, and it was taken to his office at eight. He asked for coffee at nine.”

“Has he had any visitors?”

“None that came through me, miss, and I’ve been on since seven.”

We headed to the same elevator we’d been taken up in yesterday. As we waited, Griffin glanced over at Karl, eyes narrowing.

“Is that Mr. Cortez’s shirt?”

Karl stretched his arms, the sleeves riding up past his wrists. “A poor fit, but the fabric and tailoring are superb.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I stole it, of course. While everyone was beating the bushes for assassins and trying to save your partner’s life, I decided to do some shopping in Benicio’s closet. I have a nice pair of diamond cuff links in the car too.”

Griffin scowled, as if not quite certain Karl was joking. When we got onto the elevator, he covered the panel as he entered the code, just in case.

 

HOPE: OVERTIME

 

 

When we reached William’s office, the door was open and there was no sign of an occupant. Griffin went in first, circled the room, then came out and said, “He’s not here.”

I stepped inside. Papers were scattered across an otherwise pristine desk, a briefcase sat on a chair and a suit jacket hung behind the door. Karl picked up the jacket. Griffin’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m thinking of taking this too,” Karl said. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He gave the jacket a shake. At a jingle, he reached into a pocket and fished out a set of keys.

“So he hasn’t gone far,” I said. “Where’s the nearest bathroom?”

Griffin walked to a closed door that I’d presumed was a closet, and opened it to reveal a dark and empty bathroom.

“Water cooler? Vending machine? Photocopier?”

He pointed to the cooler and an all-in-one printer. “There are no vending machines on this floor. If he wants something, he calls.”

 

He crossed the room and picked up the phone, and I thought he was just being sarcastic—demonstrating—

but he pushed a button and murmured something.

“Maybe he stepped out to stretch his legs,” I said to Karl. “Can you tell?”

“Only that he’s been in here recently. I could try tracking him, but he’s been in and out of here so often that unless he went someplace he doesn’t normally go, it would be difficult to find a fresh trail.”

“Do you smell anything else?”

“Blood? No.”

I closed my eyes, but all I could pick up was a general sense of unease and distrust emanating from Griffin.

“He left this floor at nine-thirty,” Griffin said, startling me.

“What?”

“The elevator access records show he went down to the fourth floor at nine-thirty, but never came back up.”

“What’s on the fourth floor?”

“Lots of things.”

He was out the door before I could get another word in.

“Karl?” I said. “Can you tell whether anyone else was in here with William?”

“I can try.”

He walked to the doorway and dropped to his haunches. Griffin strode back as if just realizing we weren’t behind him.

“Are you com—?”

Seeing Karl, he stopped and let out a snort of disgust. Karl ignored it, inhaled, then stood and brushed off his trousers.

“There seems to be a recent second trail, but that was probably whoever dropped off dinner.”

“Are you coming now?” Griffin snapped.

Karl glanced over at him and smiled. “What’s the magic word?”

Griffin stalked off, muttering a word under his breath.

“That’s not it,” Karl called after him.

Griffin’s shoulders tightened as he realized he’d been heard, but he didn’t stop.

 

WHEN THE ELEVATOR doors opened onto the fourth floor, it looked as quiet and empty as the other levels. Odd. I’d worked for corporations, and even on floors staffed by nine-to-fivers you could expect to see cleaners at night. But I suppose having cleaners—even your own staff—in a Cabal office, unsupervised, wasn’t wise. Better to lock down the floors and monitor all access.

We followed Griffin until we reached the first junction. Then Karl stopped, his nostrils flaring, and veered down the adjoining hall.

We got about ten steps before Griffin’s “Hey!” rang out.

“I thought I told you to stay with me,” he said as he stalked up behind us.

“No, I don’t believe you did.”

“This is a Cabal head office. You can’t just run off like that.”

“Run?” Karl turned slowly, eyebrows arched. “I believe I was walking. I also believe you are in as much a hurry to get this over with as we are, but if I’m mistaken, then you go your way, and let me follow the smell of blood.”

“Blood?” I said.

A faint wince—he hadn’t intended to say that in front of me.

“Where?” Griffin demanded.

“I need to follow the trail to find the source. Now, if you’ll allow me to do that…”

He continued down the hall. Griffin swung into his path. He moved so fast I stumbled out of his way, but it was nothing compared to how fast Karl moved. Before I could blink, Karl had the bodyguard pinned against the wall by his shirtfront.

“You want to take a pop at me?” Griffin said. “Go right ahead.”

“I know you don’t plan to hit him, Karl,” I said. “But in case you’re provoked, I’d strongly advise against it. He’s a Ferratus.”

Karl glanced at me.

“A half-demon who can make his skin as hard as iron. Hit him and you’ll break your hand.”

Griffin smiled. “Don’t take her word for it. Go ahead.”

 

“Once I have you pinned, you’re no longer a threat. But before we continue this pleasant little venture, let’s come to an understanding, Griffin. I don’t trust you. You clearly don’t trust me. Sudden moves of any kind can be easily misinterpreted as aggression.”

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