(SPECTR 1) Hunter of Demons by Jordan L. Hawk

favor.”
    “Can’t it wait? I barely dozed off.”
    John winced. “Sorry.” Two skillets went onto the stove to heat. “It’s Kaniyar’s fault—bill some more overtime.”
    “We don’t get paid overtime.”
    “Yeah, but you can’t beat the perks.”
    “Let me know when we get any.” Sean sounded a bit more awake now, at least. “Fine, fine. What do you need?”
    “I need you to go shopping. Grab some t-shirts, jeans, socks, and underwear. A winter coat. Oh, and a toothbrush.”
    “What? Why? This had better not be a joke.”
    John measured out pancake mix into a bowl. “Kaniyar wants the incident in the abandoned house kept under wraps.”
    “Yeah, she ordered me not to talk about it with anyone who hadn’t been there,” Sean said suspiciously. “You haven’t answered my question. Why do I need to buy you a bunch of clothes?”
    “They aren’t for me, they’re for Caleb Jansen.”
    “What, did lockup run out of orange jumpsuits?”
    John let out a long sigh as he began to stir milk and mix into a batter. “Mr. Jansen isn’t in lockup. He is, however, currently showering in my upstairs bathroom.”
    “Tell me you’re joking, John. Seriously—tell me this is some sleep-deprived attempt at humor. I’ll even laugh.”
    “It’s no joke.” Caleb had looked so lost in the upstairs hall, trying to keep up the bad attitude despite being in a situation which could charitably be described as “strange” or even “terrifying.” He’d held it together when most people would be sobbing on the floor.
    And all the while, John’s exorcist senses tasted the slow pulse of etheric energy, buried deep but damned strong, like the undertow of the ocean.
    No, this was most definitely not a joke.
    “What the hell is Kaniyar thinking?” Sean demanded, loud enough to make John wince.
    “Something’s weird about this whole situation—you said it yourself.”
    “Yeah. I also said we ought to blow up the house and walk away. I most definitely didn’t say, ‘Send the drakul home with John and let it kill him!’”
    “Sean—”
    “Don’t you ‘Sean’ me! Kaniyar’s cracked. Gone round the bend. Letting an NHE roam around without reporting it is a federal offense!”
    “Sean, listen, please.” John whisked the eggs and milk, then poured them into the pan and started to grate the cheese.
    “This is why Will left.”
    John stopped grating. “Will didn’t leave, he was transferred.”
    “At his request.”
    “He was tired of South Carolina.”
    “He was tired of you pulling crazy shit.”
    “I don’t pull crazy shit.”
    “What about the brothel full of succubi?”
    Goosebumps, which had nothing to do with the ambient temperature, pricked John’s skin. He didn’t want to think about the brothel now. Or ever, actually. He also didn’t want to think about the final…well, it hadn’t been an argument, exactly. Just Will, explaining the transfer would mean an increase in salary, and long-distance relationships never worked out. Wasn’t it better to make a clean break now?
    He’d clenched the grater hard enough to turn his knuckles white, so he shoved the unwelcome thoughts into the little box in his mind, where he could safely ignore them. Going back to grating, he said, “Something is happening, and we don’t understand even half of it. Kaniyar wanted me to sit on this for a few days, and I trust her judgment. And I trust you, so I’m asking you to do this one thing for me. All right?”
    There came a long silence, punctured by Sean’s sigh. “Fine. But you owe me.”
    “Put it on my tab.”
    “It’s a hell of a tab.”
    John grinned. “What are best friends for?” He hung up without waiting for Sean to think of a retort, and went back to making breakfast for the drakul-possessed hottie in his shower.
    *   *   *
     “Relax—this isn’t an interrogation,” Starkweather said as he led the way up the stairs to his office.
    Sure it wasn’t. And maybe Starkweather had some