Free Queen of Wands-eARC by John Ringo Page A

just some nice boy?” Barb asked. “That is certainly the indication I’ve had from his records. I’ve even looked at clips about him on the TV. That was sort of the theme. ‘He was a nice, normal kid.’”
    “No,” Ms. Gill said, taking a sip of herbal tea. “He was not a nice boy. He was on the basketball team in freshman year and got benched for the last half of the season since he almost invariably fouled out. He was a decent football player, but only on defense. And even then he received frequent fouls for ‘unsportsmanlike conduct.’ He was popular only to the extent he was feared. In two cases I suspect him of date rape but was unable to get the girls involved to come forward to testify or even make charges. He was a brutal, nasty, brutish bully. All that being said, killing someone and then attempting to eat them is far beyond his normal unpleasantness. Is there any indication of what caused it?”
    “Not so far,” Barb said, stroking her hair in thought. “But this has been helpful. Thank you.”
    * * *
    “So he got into fights,” Kurt said as they drove back towards downtown. “I got into fights in school. Big deal.”
    “It’s more than that,” Barb said thoughtfully. For a wonder, she was driving sedately, but that was clearly because her mind was elsewhere. “He was filled with rage. Anger, rage, except in certain specific circumstances, is a sin against God.”
    “I’ve got a short temper,” Kurt said. “Does that mean I’m going to go off the deep end?”
    “You have a short temper and don’t handle frustration well,” Barb said. “That is a whole other thing than going around filled with rage all the time. There are various reasons that might have caused that. Physiologically, he might have had a testosterone imbalance or even over-production of adrenaline. Environmentally, he might have been in an abusive family. Mystically, he might have already have been possessed of a demon or even carried one that was attached to the family. I have seen one report that families that have a genetic flaw for adrenaline overproduction caused by an otherwise benign tumor on the adrenaline gland also tend to carry generational rage demons. The McCoys in the Hatfield and McCoy feud have the gene. Whether the demons cause the tumor or the affinity for rage makes it a good home for a demon is a chicken or egg question. The point is that this wasn’t just some nice kid who snapped. He already had the predisposition to hurt and kill.”
    “Which means…what?”
    “When I figure that out, I’ll let you know,” Barb said. “Do we have Janea’s notes?”
    “Not that I’m aware of,” Kurt said. “She’s staying at the Fairfield Inn on Shallowford Village Drive. As far as I know, she hasn’t been checked out yet. If she stays in her current condition for another few days, the Bureau will probably clear out her room.”
    “Can we get in her room?” Barb asked.
    “Probably,” Kurt said. “Depends on how cooperative the hotel staff is when I flash my FBI credentials.”
    * * *
    “What is she wanted for?” the desk manager asked, wide-eyed. “I remember her. What is she, a bank robber or something?”
    “No, actually,” Barb said. “She’s a consultant to the FBI. She was injured during an investigation and we need to see if there are any clues to how she was hurt.”
    “I can open the room,” the desk clerk said, swiping a card. “But I’ll have to accompany you.”
    “This is probably going to take some time,” Barb noted.
    “I’ll get someone to cover for me.”
    * * *
    “I think somebody tossed this place,” Kurt said, going on guard. There were suitcases covering half the bed, all the other horizontal surfaces, and a good bit of the floor. Clothing was scattered everywhere up to and including hanging on the bedframe, the TV, chairs and even a light fixture.
    “No, this is just Janea’s idea of housekeeping,” Barb replied. “It always looks this way. She throws random