Slayer(82)

Sean sits up straight, intense greed lighting his face. “You know where Doug is?”

“I did. He, uh, got away.”

“Dammit. I sent two of my best-trained hellhounds after him.”

“Those were yours? They attacked my friends and me!”

Sean holds out his hands in an oops sort of gesture. “Hazard of the trade. I make certain they’re well fed before they go out, but some of their instincts can’t be avoided. They were only trained not to rip apart their actual target. If something else gets in the way, well. It can end poorly. If it makes you feel any better, they’re an endangered species now.”

“Good riddance.” I might have some weird compassion for the caged demons and for Doug, but not hellhounds. “Your hellhounds aside, we’ve got two dead bodies we need to figure out. And the last one led us here.”

Sean looks genuinely surprised, peering past me. “You have a zombie? How much do you want for it?”

I’ve got to start being more specific. “No, I mean, clues at the scene led us here. And you’re connected to everything that’s happened. You and Doug.”

“Could Doug have killed anyone?” Leo asks.

Sean scratches at his artful stubble, frowning at Leo. I half suspect Sean forgot he was here. “Nah. He only eats happiness.”

“Maybe your hospitality pushed him too far.” Leo cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t sit and is standing ready and alert in the center of the room.

“Wouldn’t be unprecedented, but it’s unlikely. Doug is just . . . Doug. I can’t see him killing anyone, and I’ve known him for years.”

I have the sudden urge to raise my fists in triumph. Score one for the Slayer instincts.

“My guess is it was another demon entirely. Tell me where you’re located and I’ll pop up and take care of the problem,” Sean continues.

I glare at him. “And profit from it.”

“Naturally.” He smiles. “Who are your dead people? Any connection to Doug?”

“One of our Wa—one of my relatives.”

“A Watcher, huh?” Sean grins at my cringing reaction. “You mentioned them earlier too. Best be careful with those secrets, love. Wouldn’t want the wrong type to know that there’s still a group of Watchers, alive and well. Wasn’t just followers of the First who had it out for you. But I’m safe as churches with that secret. How did this bloke die?”

“In his sleep. No marks. The other death was similar.”

“Another Watcher?”

“No. Cosmina.” I watch for his reaction.

He leans back again, letting out a long exhaled curse. “That’s disappointing, innit? I don’t have any other Slayers. There’s good money there. Used to be fantastic money, but then the market got flooded with them. Still, people will pay a lot for a Slayer.”

“You’d sell a Slayer?” I’m ready to punch things now. I actually believe that he didn’t know she’s dead. His disappointment is too callous to be faked. No one could pretend to be this awful.

“Not sell, employ. Like with Cosmina. I do all sorts of things in this brave new world, and Slayers are useful. And okay, I might also sell if the conditions were right. What can I say, I’m a businessman.”

“Tell us about it,” Leo says dryly.

Sean takes his request at face value. Most of his accent fades, as though he’s giving a practiced pitch. “The black market for demon products has always existed. I dabbled. It was tough work. Most of my competitors depended on magic. They went under when magic died, may it rest in peace.” He solemnly traces a pentagram onto his chest, then grins. “But I was always old-fashioned. I preferred hunting down my demons to summoning them, preferred relying on human means to trap the supernatural. My competitors are out of business. Meanwhile, all these demons with no hell dimensions to slip back to are wandering around, trapped on earth. Alone and vulnerable. My empire is booming. I even have a new investor.”

“Are you the one killing demons, then?” I ask. When he frowns in confusion, I add, “We heard from a vampire that demons are turning up dead in the area.”

“I’ll look into it. No money for me in dead demons. Well, except the ones with good skin or valuable bones. But I’m not killing demons left and right. Bad for business, innit? You have to think long-term. Keeping them alive means you can generate continual income.”

I know my entire family exists because of the need to fight demons, but Sean is . . . gross. There’s a difference between protecting people from demons and profiting off them. “Income like you generated with Doug?”

“Like Doug! Exactly. I built everything on him. Started on the streets, dealing my own brand of happy pills. Worked my way up from there. And now? Sky’s the limit. I have to avoid any governmental attention, but my newest investor has connections. I’m talking with pharmaceutical companies. Think about it. There are seven species of self-healing demons in this basement alone. If we can isolate that, do genetic research on them, imagine what we could do. We could cure cancer. We could reverse aging. I’m turning profits, sure. But I’m also doing good! That night in the pit—those zompires were ready to infect this whole city. Now they’re gone. Everything is for the benefit of humanity, innit.”