Free Deadtown by Nancy Holzner

interested in wreaking havoc in society. Whenever something really nasty happens, you can bet Hellions are there.”
    “Like what?”
    “Earthquakes, wars, genocide. Anything that causes massive suffering and destruction.”
    “Like the plague.” This came from Hagopian.
    “Yes. Events like that attract Hellions by the legion.”
    Kane cut in. “Right after the plague, when we realized Hellions were massing, the witches of Boston put up a shield to keep them out.”
    “So how did a Hellion get to Funderburk?”
    “The shield protects Boston itself. It forms a circle that reaches as far as Somerville, Cambridge, Brookline, Dor chester, and the harbor,” Kane said, drawing a circle in the air. “The larger the area, the weaker the shield. Besides, the plague was localized in town.”
    “In a legion, Hellions are a terrifying destructive force. Individually, though, they’re usually not tormenters,” I said. “Instead, they find somebody with a crack in their moral armor, somebody who can be tempted by evil. They incite. They whisper, insinuate, nudge.”
    Costello looked confused. “So you’re saying that a demon, a Hellion, talked somebody into killing Funderburk? But—the way he died . . .”
    “No. I wasn’t quite finished. Even though they’re inciters, Hellions are also violent themselves. Brutally so. Sometimes a sorcerer will try to bind a Hellion into service.”
    “Bind it?”
    “It’s a dangerous thing to do. A powerful sorcerer can force a Hellion to do his bidding. But the Hellion doesn’t like it one bit. A bound Hellion is surly, rebellious, and difficult to control. It’ll kill its master if it gets the chance. But if you can keep it under your thumb, a Hellion in bondage is a powerful weapon.”
    “Let me get this straight. Somebody, some sorcerer, called up a Hellion and used it to kill Funderburk.”
    I nodded.
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “I think I do.” Kane patted my back and moved to the front of the room. “It’s the election.”
    We all turned to him. Detective Hagopian spoke. “The victim wasn’t involved in politics. He sold used cars.”
    “That’s the point,” Kane looked angry. “Just a normal citizen. An ordinary, law-abiding citizen killed by the monsters.”
    “Not monsters,” I said, surprised to hear Kane use that word, “a Hellion.”
    He shrugged. “What’s the difference?”
    “PAs have independent existence. Demons are conjured entities—”
    “You know that. I know that. Even the good detectives here know that now. But the average voter has no clue. To them, anything that isn’t human is a monster. They’re not going to waste time on fine distinctions. When this hits the news . . .” Kane turned to Detective Costello. “Who called the police?”
    Hagopian answered. “His neighbors, reporting loud noises from his house. They described the sound as”—she flipped back a few pages in her notebook—“ ‘repeated banging, like hammering.’ Officers arrived at oh-seven-twenty. The front door was open, so they went in. They found the victim in his bedroom. There was no sign of a struggle. The body was tangled in the sheets, nothing more.”
    “I locked it,” I said. Everyone looked at me. “The front door. I always double-check that all doors are locked when I leave.” I could see myself watching Tina skip to the Jag, then testing the lock. I held the picture in my mind. Partly to be sure I was right, but mostly to hold back the memory of the last time I’d seen a Hellion victim.
    “Did the neighbors talk to the press?” Kane asked.
    “How would I know that?” Hagopian asked. “No reporters have called for a statement. That I know of, anyway.”
    “What about the victim’s family? Are they likely to run screaming to the press?”
    Hagopian shrugged. “They think he had a heart attack. The autopsy won’t contradict that for several days, anyway.”
    Kane paced in the small space near the door. “Somebody will leak it.