Demon’s King (High Demon #3)(17)
Author: Connie Suttle

Jes spent the afternoon removing a tiny chip implanted in the back of a warlock’s neck.

"I have the urge to destroy this, but I’m hoping it will bring somebody right to me, instead. They know we’re here, they’re just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. We got those last night, but now I have a feeling they have friends." Teeg was growling. "Astralan, take this chip to the plantation on Birimera and leave it on my desk. Inform Denast what it is and to be ready in case somebody shows up. Then get back here; we need to go back to Campiaa and ask a few questions of our friends, here." He jerked his head toward the rogue warlocks. They were still inside their cage and didn’t look happy about their current situation.

"You look nice," Jes whispered while the rogues cringed and Teeg cursed and paced nearby.

"Thanks." Normally I didn’t wear red—didn’t like the color much. Teeg obviously did. Nenzi helped pack our bags packed later; Teeg was busy in his study; he and Stellan were closeted there, sending messages, no doubt.

* * *

Breszca Loffus stared into her drink glass. Graumil Loffus, her husband and candidate for High Council on Tulgalan, should have skated through the election. Now, some industrious journalist had gone digging into her past instead of that of her husband. The damaging information would be released in the morning.

Tulgalan law required that all parties be notified at least one full day in advance of the release of information, if the information could damage the parties in any way. It gave them time to refute the information in case it turned out to be false.

Breszca wished she could prove it false. She couldn’t. Every bit of it was true. How the journalist had managed to get his hands on the adoption records when they were supposed to remain secret for one hundred turns might remain a mystery.

Breszca hadn’t even seen the baby after it was born, signing it over quickly to the state. Someone had adopted the little girl and named her Raedah. Breszca had only been nineteen when she became pregnant—she’d put off getting the birth control chip and then he had come along.

Breszca had just gone to university and drinking with new friends was her favorite thing to do. Denus was handsome, no doubt about it, and Breszca couldn’t help herself when he’d invited her to his bed. She’d gotten pregnant after only two encounters, but didn’t learn of that fact until she’d left Denus behind for Alvis.

She’d listed Alvis’ name as the child’s father—Alvis who’d somehow gotten killed in a hovercraft accident. Now, merely the fact that she’d put the baby up for adoption wouldn’t have raised eyebrows—it was the responsible thing to do for one so young and unprepared for parenthood. What the journalist had found when he went through the records was that Raedah couldn’t have been Alvis’ child—the blood types and DNA didn’t match.

Breszca couldn’t imagine anyone going to that much trouble just to get Alvis’ records after learning she’d had the child. Anyone else would have taken the records at face value. If she’d ever wanted to kill anyone, the journalist now topped that list. It was a crime not to report the true parent of a child put up for adoption—not to notify said parent that they had a child in order to give them the opportunity to take it instead of consigning it to state care at state expense.

Generally it was a good law and one that her husband had supported over the years as a magistrate in the capital city. Now, Breszca’s past was undermining his bid for High Council by flouting that law. Who knew where Denus was? She hadn’t seen him since she’d dumped him in favor of Alvis.

The other things the journalist had ferreted out about Raedah were perhaps even more bizarre, but Breszca wouldn’t be held accountable for that. Raedah had married Addah Desh at the age of twenty-one. She’d been his eighth and last wife he’d taken, gotten pregnant shortly after the marriage and died after the birth. Still not so bizarre, until you learned that the child Raedah had wasn’t Addah Desh’s but his second oldest son’s—Edan Desh.

Breszca blew out a breath at that name. Edan had frequently been in the news in years past—he’d taken the crown from his father, making Desh’s number two the best restaurant on Tulgalan. That no longer held true—Edan was now serving prison time, as was his mother, Marzi Desh. Edan had raped Raedah, then had been found to be the child’s father. He and his mother had plotted to kill Raedah with the help of a physician after the child’s birth.

The physician had been stripped of his license and had served a shorter sentence—only a few moon-turns—after testifying for the state. Meanwhile, Breszca’s grandchild had disappeared. The journalist found records that the girl had separated from the Desh family, taking another name. Nobody could get into those records, although the journalist had tried his best. They were sealed and hidden. The journalist informed Breszca and Graumil at the formal meeting they’d had that he was currently tracking Denus. As yet, Denus hadn’t been located, but he was determined to keep looking.

Graumil had stalked out of the house the moment the journalist left with his crew, leaving Breszca alone. Breszca had asked a servant to bring a bottle and locked herself inside her suite. The vids would be all over the news by morning—the journalist had sold the story to every affiliate on Tulgalan. He’d already made enough to retire off Breszca’s mistake and looked to make even more if he could find the real father. His daughter was dead but he had a granddaughter somewhere. The journalist was determined to find her as well.

* * *

Hild Marolla, noted investigative journalist, sat at his desk and sighed. He’d hit another dead end. Records of Denus Lithik were scarce—rental records, banking records, things of that nature, were available for a period of six years. No records were found, however, of Denus coming to Tulgalan by conventional means. Or leaving Tulgalan the same way. He’d still been on Tulgalan at the time and could have been notified of the child’s birth—no doubt about that—Hild had all those records on his comp-vid. He wondered, and not for the first time, whether Denus had been an illegal involved in criminal activity.

No work records were available, either, though Denus appeared to have plenty of money. The short time he’d been with Breszca, he’d bought her jewelry and taken her out to the best restaurants. Vid-photos were acquired; Hild had gotten those from Breszca’s college friends. They were more than willing to come forward in exchange for money and the notoriety it would bring them. Denus was a handsome man—with dark hair and green eyes. The vid-photos of Raedah showed the same green eyes and unusual, white hair. Rumor had it that Raedah’s child, Reah, had looked much like her mother.

Hild grimaced every time he thought about Reah. He had no photographs of her and when he’d tried to dip into her records, someone from the ASD had shown up at his office. That same someone had offered Hild a stretch in prison if he continued to dig into Reah’s information. Hild was angry about that—he’d already paid a bribe to a lesser public agent to get what was available. His bribe and the public agent disappeared the following day.