by Devon Monk
He sipped coffee, and gave no argument.
She raised one eyebrow. “Tell me stupidity doesn’t run in the family.”
“It’s on his mother’s side,” Amy said quietly.
“Hey!” Xtelle shouted through the door. It sounded like she had her horse lips pressed right up against the door latch.
Bathin coughed to cover a laugh.
“I’ll consider what you’ve said, Myra. There are gods in Ordinary, and they may not be as helpless as they appear.”
That was interesting. Foolish, but interesting. I might see the gods as lazy or eccentric or frustrating, but I would never, not even once, think that any of them were helpless.
While they could actually get sunburned, break a limb, or be killed once they had laid their power down to live a mortal life, they were only a thought away from that power. To underestimate their reach, to underestimate their strength, and frankly, to underestimate their tempers, if their vacation was interrupted, was a fool’s game.
Underestimating gods. There was some leverage.
“The dragon’s non-negotiable,” I said. “You want me alone, you get me alone with the dragon.”
He shrugged like it wasn’t worth the air to argue.
Good enough. Because the one thing I had learned from Bathin possessing my soul was that connections and bindings worked both ways. Amy might have gotten his hooks into me, but that meant I had access to him too.
He was about to find out just how far I would go to keep my family and town safe.
Chapter Seventeen
Jean stomped into the room, her glare instantly aimed at Amy, even as she crossed the room to where I was sitting in the chair. Amy was in a chair to my left, Myra on the couch to his left, and Bathin loomed like stage security at a rock show.
The dragon pig in her arms puffed smoke out of its nostrils. It was still a little pig, still cute, but it was not playing it up.
No, this was serious dragon. This was the dragon who could tell I was angry, and yes, a little frightened. This was protector dragon, maybe even destruction dragon.
“Hey,” I said to it as Jean handed it over to me. I held it up so we were eye level. Fire blazed in those adorable black eyes. “I’m okay right now, but this isn’t going to be a long-term situation. I need you to make sure this demon is never outside our reach. And if you’re a good dragon, you might get to eat him.”
The dragon growled. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Amy go very, very still.
I turned the dragon in my arms so it could get a good look at its future meal.
Amy’s shoulders were pulled back, but at an angle, as if he were prepared to jump out of that chair and fight for his life, if necessary.
Good. He should be worried. He had picked the wrong damn person to try to overthrow.
Jean stood right in front of me, her back to the demon. “Are you really all right?”
“I am. I want to hear his demands or plans or whatever. I’ve got the dragon. So I’m good.”
“I called Ryder,” Jean said.
Ryder. The date. The reservations. I had forgotten all about it.
That hit me harder than I expected. I was right here, going through another possible life and death situation involving a demon and my soul, and I hadn’t once thought about calling Ryder.
What did it say about me if my boyfriend, the man I loved, was the last thing on my mind when my life was going to hell?
“Good,” I croaked out through a suddenly dry throat. “That’s super good.”
Jean squeezed my shoulder and gave the pig a pat. “You keep her safe. If he tries to harm her in any way, you have my permission to chomp him to mush.”
“Jean.”
“Eat him in small bites so he feels it longer.”
I shook my head and made wide eyes at her. “Not necessary.”
She turned to Amy, then marched right up in front of him. “Fuck you.” She kicked him in the shins. Hard.
It was the stress, the sudden break in that boiling, building pressure in my chest. It all came out in a laugh, a gasp, and it was like I could breathe again. I could think again.
For his part, Amy’s face went a little greenish, his eyebrows knitted, and his hands clenched the chair handles hard enough to make them creak. That had hurt. She liked to wear steel-toed boots, and the girl knew how to kick.
“You must be Jean,” he said, his voice a little thready.
“Just in case you think this is going to be some kind of cakewalk, you asshole, I want you to get this real clear. You are screwing around with the wrong place and the wrong family. We will crush you and blow the dust of your bones off our palms.”
She turned again, not giving one damn that her back was to him again, and threw a glare at Bathin. “You a part of this, hot stuff?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Myra, I say we give them two minutes, then come back in here and lock this down.”
Myra stood, glanced between Amy, the dragon, and me. “Good?”
“Don’t let her kick a hole in my house, okay?”
She nodded. “Come on, Jean.”
They walked out the door, Bathin last, lingering for a moment, before uttering one word—not in a language I recognized, something slithery and guttural—before shutting the door.
Amy jerked at the word, jerked again at the door shutting. Then he took a second to unclench his fingers and to breathe out, slowly, as if triggering the release valve.
“What was that?” I asked. “The word?”
He shook his head. “It’s demon. Difficult to interpret. We have two minutes before they return. I have demands. Well, one, really.”
“This is my excited face.”
He lifted an eyebrow, then leaned back in his chair, a little less flight, but not quite fight yet.
“I would have signed the contract. No, you don’t have to believe me, but in any other circumstance I would have. Ordinary is interesting. Following you, even in the tangential manner in which I have, has made me aware of the uniqueness of the place, the…harmony.”
“You’re a warrior. A general of legions. You’d get bored here.”
“I had thought the same. But not now.”
“Just get to the demand, Amy.”
“The crime,” he said.
“All right. Get to that.”
“It is a contract. An illegal contract. I want you to break it.”
“Between you and whom?”
“Not me,” he said. “Two others.”
“Time’s ticking.”
He took a breath, weighing his options. Through that hook between us, I could sense a sort of deliberation of my worth. Deciding if he had chosen correctly. Bet on the right horse. Thrown his chips on the right number.
And through that same connection I felt his decision. Felt the yes.
It was strange how a part of me liked that. Strange how a part of me would have been offended if he thought I couldn’t deal with the issue, solve it, and send him packing.
“Vychoro, the King, is bound to Xtelle. Not a marriage, nothing so simple or pure as that. It is more a claiming, though in some circles of demons, it is a great honor.”
“You think highly of your king?” I asked.
“He is my brother. Powerful. Ruthless. Vychoro dominates with horror and fire. There are none who oppose him. Not if they desire to live.”
I couldn’t tell if that was an endorsement or not.
“I do not agree with his ways. He has become ravenous. His hunger to rule, to oppress, to destroy—endless. He is not the brother I once knew.”
“And?”
“I want you to break the contract between Vychoro and Xtelle.”
“You want…you want me to make him divorce her?”
“No. I want you to break the contract.”
“I heard that. Look, Avnas, this is your chance to get me on your side. I mean I’m still going to break this spell binding us, and kick your ass, but if you want mercy,
or empathy, or understanding, tell me why the King and Queen of the Underworld breaking up is so important to you.”
His nostrils flared. Yeah, truth was a hard swallow for demons.
“I can pay you. Such riches as you’ve never known.”
“Pass.”
“Power, more power than you can dream of.”
“Don’t care.”
“I can bring your father back.”
The silence ticked by. I raised one eyebrow. “No,” I said, “you can’t. I’m not naïve, Avnas. I know how this universe works.”
“You know what the gods have told you. What they want you to know of the universe. There are things even they don’t have access too.”
“Stop stalling. You didn’t answer my question: Why do you want that contract broken? What’s in it for you? Revenge? Reward? Are you after the throne?”
His eyes went hard, every line of his body more solid, heavier, somehow. The demon features were a thing out of a nightmare behind the polite human mask he wore.
“I could force you to break it.”
The dragon pig grunted, and I snorted. “Oh, yeah. Do that. See how that goes for you. You still haven’t answered my question.”
He glanced at the clock on my wall. We had about twenty seconds left before my sisters barged back in.
“I won’t agree to anything unless you tell me the truth. Now, not later. Why do you want the contract broken?”
He watched the clock’s second hand tick. Then, at the last moment, he said, “Love.”
The door opened. Everyone shoved their way into the house like they’d been watching the clock just as closely as Amy.
Neither Amy nor I looked at them, both caught by the word he’d spoken. Truth vibrated through that word, through our connection.
Love. He loved someone enough to want the contract broken.
I was pretty sure it wasn’t his brother, the king. But there were many kinds of love. It could be fatherly. It could be companionable.
“I would like to remind all of you that I have not been treated well.” Xtelle barged through the door last, her hooves edged with mud, little bits of grass, and something lavender stuck to them. She’d been stomping. I had a feeling my heather plants were goners.
“As a citizen of Ordinary, I am filing an official complaint!”
I still hadn’t looked away from Amy. That truth held, stitching a silk-fine thread between us.
Love. He loved her. He was in love with Xtelle.
What was I supposed to do with that?
Xtelle was essentially married to the King of the Underworld, who was Bathin’s father. Avnas was Vychoro’s brother, and lusting after one’s sister-in-law was pretty uncool.
“Hello,” Xtelle called. She clicked her hooves together like snapping her fingers.
Something must have shown on my face, because Amy’s eyes widened as he realized I was putting two and two together and coming up with a unicorn. Then he shut all emotional reaction down so hard, I felt the mental slam in the back of my molars.
“Are you deaf? Did you both lose all ability to hear?”
“Not at all,” Amy said smoothly. Like he was just a guy, there to serve. Somehow he hid that fire, that passion I had seen when he’d spoken his truth.
Love.
“Finally.” She clopped over to me. “What does he want?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“You really should tell me, Del-lame-y,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s a demon and he cast a spell on you.”
“How does this work?” I asked Amy.
“Which part of it?”
I pointed at myself, then pointed at him. “The connection. Do you have to be around me all the time?”
“You want me out of your sight? A demon, set free in Ordinary, without having signed any contract to follow the rules? Just think of what I might do.”
“Did that, got the broken soul to show for it. So not doing that again.” I lifted the dragon pig so my mouth was right by its soft little ear. “Hey, buddy. I want you to take Avnas to the special jail, okay?”
Avnas drew his head up, “What are you—?”
Too late.
The dragon pig flew out of my arms—no wings, just a pink projectile of tiny pig that should not have had that kind of buoyancy. Before Avnas could raise a hand to fend it off, there was a big showy poof of white smoke, and they were gone.
I coughed at the hot coppery taste that filled my mouth and waved at the smoke.
Myra opened the front door. I opened the nearest window.
“Oh, that was beautiful!” Jean crowed. “I am so glad I was here to see the look on his face.” She chortled, then coughed her way to another window.
Xtelle looked absolutely flabbergasted. Her pony mouth was opening and closing. Her head kept turning to me, then turning back to where Amy had just stood, then back to me again.
“But…he bound you,” she finally said.
“Yep.”
“And you just…disposed of him.”
“Locked him up tight so I know exactly where he is.”
“But you let Bathin roam around Ordinary. Free.”
“Bathin possessed my soul,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking as clearly. Also, it was my first run-in with a demon. I’ve learned.”
Bathin, the cocky jerk, just gave me a small salute and a wink. “You’re welcome.”
“Suck it,” I said.
That just made him smile, because he knew what I really thought about him: I knew he wouldn’t take my soul now, if the same choices were given to him.
I knew how much he loved my sister, and how hard he was working to find his place in Ordinary so he could stay here with her.
“So he just…just sits in a jail cell while you just…aren’t you afraid he will use your connection to…do something terrible to you?” said Xtelle.
“I think he’s my problem not yours.”
“But—”
“Unless you know how to break the spell he cast on me, you should be doing pony stuff in Hogan’s yard. Getting ready for that petting zoo gig you got.”
Bathin coughed, and it was not because of the smoke. “Petting zoo? You’re,” he shifted his gaze to me, “she’s in a petting zoo? For children? Please tell me it’s for children.”
Jean frowned. “It’s not like there are adult petting z— You know what? Never mind. I retract that statement.”
“It’s behind the Sweet Reflections,” I said. “She’ll be there bright and early during the High Tea Tide and will be there all day.”
Xtelle sucked her nostrils in and narrowed her eyes.
“All,” I enunciated, “day.”
She muttered something that sounded like “stomp stomp stomp,” then turned toward the door. “I refuse to spend a moment more in this dismal place.”
“Ordinary?” I asked hopefully. Maybe a little too hopefully.
“This house.” She stomp, stomp, stomped across the floor, each hoof hitting harder than necessary, her pony butt swishing.
“I got her.” Jean stepped over to me and wrapped me in a fierce hug.
“I want you to stay here,” I said. “I need to talk to you and Myra.”
“But what about Miss Stompy?”
“Congratulations, Bathin,” I said. “You get to babysit your mother. Make sure she gets to Hogan’s and stay with her. If she demons out or runs off with that goat, I’m holding you responsible.”
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.” He pointed at the door.
To my surprise, Xtelle actually listened and trotted through the door. Although the goat bleating at the bottom of my stairs might have had something to do with it.
“We still on for tonight?” Bathin asked Myra.
“I’ll be at the library. Looking for spell breakers.”
“I’ll come by with dinner.” He glanced out the door. “Hey. Step away from the goat.” And he was gone.
I exhaled and pressed my palms o
ver my eyes. “This sucks.”
“You let him into the library?” Jean asked. “When did you take your relationship up to that huge level?”
“He doesn’t come in yet. That’s…it’s too soon. So we eat dinner or lunch outside. Or in the car.”
Jean snorted. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you? Good thing Bathin has one: a romantic bone. Okay, I just heard what that sounds like.” She flopped down in the chair where Amy had been sitting.
Myra took out her notebook. “What are his demands?”
“He wants me to break a contract.”
“He thinks you have some kind of authority to do that?” Jean asked. “I mean the safer bet would have been Ryder, right? Mithra’s chosen one. But Amy should have known that if he was really following you around.”
“He was really following me around. It’s fuzzy, but I’ve got a faint memory of hearing his voice before, of seeing his face.”
Myra jotted down notes. “The fade out episodes?”
“Yeah.”
“What contract does he want broken?” she asked.
“The one binding Xtelle to Vychoro.”
Jean popped the gum she was chewing. “For real?”
“The King of the Underworld,” Myra said.
“Yes.”
“He wants you to break up Bathin’s mother and father,” she said.
“Yes.”
“He wants you to destroy the contract between his brother and his sister-in-law.”
“Harsh,” Jean said, “Do demons actually marry each other?”
“There are rituals,” Myra said off-handedly. “And contracts. It’s all about the contracts.”
“How are they broken?” Jean asked.
Myra put the little notebook back in her pocket. “Bathin says the only way a demon will let go of one thing, is if they can control something of greater value to them. Contracts are sacred to demons. A lifeblood of their identity. A map to their existence. I haven’t come across anything that says a contract was willingly ended between demons. Murders and killings, yes. Amicable split, no.”
“Terrific,” I said.
“I’ll go through the library.” Myra stood. “And I’ll get everything I can out of Bathin too.”
“Good. Jean, I want you to come with—”