***
Adam bit off a chunk of bread and chewed it as he talked. "So that's it. We broke, we entered, we found zip."
"I hope you were careful—" Talia began, then stopped. "Yes, I'm sure you were. If there's anything Robert and I can do . . ."
"Lend us your Miata?" Adam said. "The Jeep's been making a funny noise."
"The Jeep's been making funny noises since you bought it, and the last time you drove my car, you buggered up the convertible roof, but if there's anything
else
we can do . . ."
"You asked about a demon named Nasha," Robert said, speaking for the first time since the meal had begun.
"Oh, that's right," I said. "I completely forgot."
"Well, I would have relayed an answer through Adam, but I was stalling to give myself more time, and possibly find a better answer. There's no mention in any text of a demon named Nasha. It's quite likely the poor girl misheard, but I can't even find a name that phonetically resembles Nasha. The closest is Nakashar."
"Nakashar's an eudemon, isn't he?" Adam said as he peeled an orange. "Very minor. Outside of the Babylonian archive journals, he's not even mentioned."
I looked up, surprised Adam knew this.
Adam continued. "So it's not likely to be Nakashar. Eudemons can be summoned, but they won't interfere in our world. Sacrificing to them is like bribing a meter maid to get out of a speeding ticket. We're talking about a druid, though, right? So we should be looking at Celtic deities. What about Macha?"
"Of course," Robert said. "That would make sense, wouldn't it?"
"I know zilch about the Celtic pantheon," I said.
"Not surprising. Although they are often classified as demons, they aren't included in demonology texts because only druids can communicate with them. They don't fit the classic definition of either eudemon or cacodemon. If you ask them, they'll tell you they're gods, but most demonographers are uncomfortable with that appellation, and prefer to label them 'minor deities.' The study of Celtic deities—"
"—is fascinating," Talia cut in with a smile. "And I'm sure everyone would love to hear about it . . . another time."
Robert chuckled. "Thank you, Lia. Let's just say that Macha is a likely suspect. She's one of the three Valkyrie aspects of the Morrigan, and she certainly does accept human sacrifices. That's one piece of evidence to support your theory, then. Now, I know you want to get back to work. Adam? If you can help your mother with the dishes—"
"Oh, don't torture him," Talia said. "I'm sure he wants to help Pa—" She caught a look from Robert. "Or perhaps first he can show Lucas that motorcycle."
"That's right." Adam turned to Lucas. "Remember I was telling you about that guy my friend knows? Bought an Indian, took it apart, and couldn't figure out how to put it back together? Well, his wife's making him sell it, so I had him e-mail me some pics. Looks like a big metal jigsaw puzzle, but I thought you might like to take a look. You could probably get it cheap, store it here until you guys get a place."
"You boys go on, then," Robert said. As they left, he motioned for me to stay behind.
"Okay," I said when they were gone. "Since when does Adam know about minor eudemons and Celtic deities?"
"Surprised?" Robert smiled. "I think that was the idea. He's been studying for a few months now, but probably didn't mention it because he wanted to astound you with his sudden brilliance."
I moved to the chair beside Robert's.
"It's never been easy for him," Robert continued. "Hearing everyone talk about your accomplishments. I'll admit, I've been guilty of lauding your achievements in the past few years, hoping it would encourage him to take on a more active role in the council."
"He's talked about it," I said. "But it's never gone beyond talk. With added power comes added responsibility."
Robert smiled. "And added work, both of which lack a certain appeal for Adam. In the last few years, though, he's been looking at where you were, and where he was—a college dropout, tending bar—and it bothered him enough to re-enroll at college, but I think he was still able to justify it, tell himself you're an anomaly and no one else can be measured along the same yardstick. Then he met Lucas, and saw what he's doing with his life. I think he's realized that if he continues down this route, he'll be left behind, the friend who watches from the sidelines, buys the beer, and listens to the war stories."
"So boning up on demonology is step one in a bigger plan."
"I wouldn't say a 'plan' per se. Adam has ambitions, but he hasn't figured out where to channel them." As Talia returned for another armload of dishes, Robert smiled up at her. "Now, his mother knows how she'd like to see them channeled. Into book-reading and studying, hands-off work like his old man."
"Nothing wrong with that," Talia said. "Unfortunately, for Adam, it would require heavy sedation and fireproof chains. Being involved means being
involved
, the more dangerous the better."
"It's not that dangerous," I said. "Not really."
Talia laughed and patted my shoulder. "You don't need to whitewash it for me, Paige. I knew my son was never going to lead a quiet life working in an office. In some cases, biology really is destiny. He has power. Better he should use it for good. Or, at least, that's what I keep telling myself."
"He's got a first-rate defense system," I said.
"Exactly. He'll be fine." She exhaled and nodded. "He'll be fine. Now, Paige, go find what you need to stop this guy, and if you need our help, just ask."
***
I'd hacked into this credit card company's files before—the last time being only a few weeks ago when Lucas needed information for a case. They hadn't changed any of their security parameters since then, so I popped into the system easily. Within twenty minutes I had Weber's credit card transaction records. Nothing on them indicated that he'd visited any of the target cities in the last six months. That, however, might only mean that he was smart enough not to make hotel reservations or dinner purchases with his credit card. Or he might have used a different card.
Lucas slipped into the study as I finished. When I told him I'd struck out, he decided to make some phone calls and see whether we could find another way to place Weber out of town on the days of the attacks. These calls were best made from a pay phone, so he took Adam and left. Did he really need Adam to chauffeur him around Santa Cruz? No, but if he'd left him, I'd have spent the next hour with Adam breathing down my neck as I tried to crack Weber's data files. So Lucas took him along.
It took me about thirty minutes to determine the encryption program Weber had used on his files. Once I knew what he'd used, I downloaded a cracking program and translated them into text. For the hour I waded through the boring detritus of an average life: e-mail jokes, online dating postings, bill payment confirmations, Christmas card address labels, and a hundred other mundane bits of data raised to the value of top-secret information by a paranoid mind and a shareware encryption program.
At ten-fifty, my watch alarm went off. Time to check in with Elena. I phoned her, talked to Savannah, then returned to my work. The rest of the files on the disk appeared to be work-related. Like most professionals, Weber's day didn't end when the clock struck five, and for contract employees, the drive to translate that contract into a full-time job often means bringing work home to impress the company with your throughput. He had plenty of data files on his computer, and a folder filled with programs in SAS, COBOL, and RPG. The mind-numbing side of programming: data manipulation and extraction.
I looked at the lists of data files. There were over a hundred on the disk and I really didn't want to skim through each one. Yet I couldn't just put them aside based on assumptions about the content. So I whipped up a simple program to open each file and write a random sampling of the data into a single new file. Then I scanned the new file. Most of it looked like financial data, not surprising given that Weber worked in the accounting division of a Silicon Valley company. Then, a third of the way down the file, I found this:
Tracy Edith McIntyre
03/12/86
shaman
NY5N34414
Race Mark Trenton
11/02/88
sorcerer
YY8N27453
Morgan Anita Lui-Delancy
23/01/85
half-demon
NY6Y18923
Now, Silicon Valley companies may employ some pretty young people, and some pretty strange people, but I don't think teenage supernaturals made up a significant proportion of their staff. I found two other similar lists farther down. Three files with information on the teenage children of supernaturals. Three Cabals had been the victims of a killer targeting their youth. Definitely not a coincidence.
My sampling program had pulled off only the first eighty characters in each record, but the information in those records extended well over that. As with most data files, though, all you saw were strings of numbers and Y/N indicators, meaningless without a context. To read and understand these files, you needed a program that extracted the data using a record key.
Ten minutes later, I'd found the program that read the Cabal files. I ran it, then opened the file it created.
Criteria A: age<17; living with parent(s) = N; current location city NOT blank, current location country = USA
ID
Nam
Age
Cabal
P.Race
State
01-645-1
Holden Wyngaard
16
Cortez
shaman
LA
01-398-04
Max Diego
14
Cortez
Vodoun
NY
01-452-1
Dana MacArthur
15
Cortez
hd/witch
GA
02-0598-3
Colby Washington
13
Nast
half-demon
SC
02-1232-3
Brandy Moya
14
Nast
half-demon
AB
02-1378-2
Sarah Dermack
15
Nast
necro
IN
03-083-2
Michael Shane
16
StC
half-demon
CA
03-601-2
Ian Villani
14
StC
shaman
NY
Criteria B: living with parent(s) = Y; parental marital status IN [D,W,S]; employee is custodial parent = Y; parental occupation = bodyguard, department = CEO
ID
Name
Age
Cabal
P Marital Stat.
01-821-1
Jacob Sorenson
16
Cortez
Widowed
03-987-1
Reese Tettington
14
St. Cloud
Divorced
At my elbow was a piece of paper with three names on it—the names of the teens killed from the other Cabals, the only information we had about them. I'd already memorized that list, but still looked over now, needing to be sure I wasn't imagining things. I read the names.
Colby Washington.
Sarah Dermack.
Michael Shane.
I grabbed my cell phone and called Lucas.
A Message of Hope
"Holy shit," Adam said after I'd explained what I'd found. "Well, the Cabals can fire up their electric chair. Case closed."
"An economically efficient solution," Lucas said. "But I believe, in a case with such a potentially life-altering—or life-ending—conclusion, it's not unfair for the accused to expect a few luxuries, such as a trial."
"The guy made lists of teenage Cabal kids, and half the kids on those lists are now dead. Screw due process. Hell, I'll fry him myself, save the Cabals the cost of electricity."