by Devon Monk
Small meant less of a target and less chance for collateral damage. It did not mean less fire power. Not in this town. “Are you bringing anyone?”
“No.”
I glanced at Ryder.
“If you tell me to stay behind, I’ll have the nurse fit you with a chloroform drip.”
Okay then. I pulled out my phone and dialed Myra. Because I knew what kind of hell I’d catch if I didn’t let her in on the plan.
“Myra Reed,” she answered.
I drew the phone away from my face and stared at the screen. She knew I was calling, I didn’t know why I’d gotten the formal response.
“Hey?” I ventured.
“What’s wrong?” I caught it then, the burr in her voice. She’d been sleeping and had answered on automatic.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I woke you.”
“It was a power nap. I overslept the alarm. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I paused. “Nothing new. But we’re meeting at the Perky Perch to go over tonight’s plan. Meet us there in a half hour?”
“Where are you now?”
“Hospital. Checking in on Ben–he’s conscious, but under a spell we need to break. Jame and the pack are staying with him. Rossi’s going to the Perk. Ryder and me too.”
“And Bathin?” The way she said it, like she knew the answer and wasn’t judging the outcome totally made it sound like she was judging the outcome.
Thing was, I couldn’t be sure she didn’t want him there.
“I don’t think leaving him behind is going to do us any good.”
I didn’t look over at him but I could feel his smirk. Feel it. Creepy.
She sighed. “Have you called Jean?”
“No. She was stoned on painkillers and catching a nap at the station when I saw her earlier. Before you say anything, I tried to talk her into going home, but she didn’t want to be alone. Roy’s with her. And either Shoe or Hatter said he’d stay too. She’s covered.”
“Hogan might be there too.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Who else should I call?” she asked.
I sifted through the people, creatures, and gods in the town. Whose strength did we need? Whose life did we dare risk? Death might be handy to have on our side. If Lavius was going to be killed, it stood to reason that the god Death would be the most direct route.
But he was only a few months into his first vacation. If he wanted to wield his power, he’d have to pick it up from where it was stored in the beer growler in Odin’s travel trailer, and then he’d have to leave Ordinary for a year.
Maybe as a last resort, I could ask Than to do that. For now, having him as a consultant on the issue might be all we needed.
“Than,” I said. “Maybe Aaron, if you think the god of war would want to give us a few pointers.”
“Do we need Bertie?”
“She’s overseeing her own war.”
“Come again?”
“A bunch of C.O.C.K.s and K.I.N.K.s. are going to bomb the city. She’s got this.”
The pause was longer, then I heard air blown out in a stream. “The knitting groups?”
“One’s crochet.”
“Is there a difference?”
“I’ve been told.”
“Yarn bombs?” She really was a good cop. Smart. Determined.
“Bertie thinks the tourists will like it.”
“Okay. I’ll call Than and Aaron. If we need someone else, we can call them from the coffee shop.”
“Good.” I ended the call and then looked around. I didn’t realize I’d been walking while talking. I was almost to the lobby already. I hadn’t even said goodbye to Jame or Ben.
I rubbed at my forehead then pinched the bridge of my nose.
This had been a long day already and it hadn’t even begun.
An arm wrapped across my shoulders, warm, strong and heavy enough to make me feel grounded, centered in my own skin. Yes, I said I wanted space. Yes, I should be pushing him away and demanding that space. So he wouldn’t get hurt, so I wouldn’t get him killed.
But I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t even gather enough energy to try.
“I thought you were mad at me.”
“I am,” Ryder said easily. “It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Anger and love are not mutually exclusive. Especially when someone is being a full-time disaster.”
“Part-time disaster at the most, thank you,” I said haughtily. I leaned into his heat, wishing I could feel him, really feel him, but thankful he was there just the same.
“You forget I’ve known you a long time.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“You don’t do part-time anything. If you’re into something, you’re in it all the way.”
Well. I couldn’t really argue with that.
He gave me a smile, pleased with himself. “Come on. You know I’m right. And I’m driving.”
If he thought I was going to fight him on either point, he was wrong.
Chapter 15
“Stupid isn’t a strong enough word to encompass this conversation,” Aaron declared. “I thought you wanted me here to make sure you didn’t get yourselves killed. Was that the goal? Or did you just want me to take notes for your tombstones?”
I swear, every time he opened his mouth it was the verbal version of throwing a gauntlet.
Maybe inviting the god of war to our planning session wasn’t such a good idea.
“If you’d like to come up with a better plan, we’re right here waiting,” Ryder said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not here to plan.” Aaron leaned back in the secondhand office chair and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes sharp and happy. “I’m on vacation, remember? No war for this guy.”
I tried and failed to stifle a snort.
I was pretty sure Ryder was going to hit our local nursery owner in the face. After all, Ryder had recently proved he was wound up enough that he felt fists were a viable strategy for conflict resolution. So had I, come to think of it.
Rossi spoke up. Again. “He is coming for us. That we know. He knows Ben was taken right out from under his nose. He knows his lackeys were killed. He knows it is us.
“We choose our battlefield, here, inside Ordinary where we are stronger and he is weaker. We take the book to a void magic node, which might buy us enough time to use it to break the spell on Ben. Lavius will attack as soon as he senses the book is within his reach.”
“And when will it be within his reach?” I asked.
“As soon as I break the wards that mask it from him.”
“Can you do that after you cast the spell for Ben?”
“I can’t cast the spell with the wards on the book.”
“So,” Ryder asked. “How many minutes are we talking between you breaking the wards, and completing the spell casting?”
“One.”
“And how fast can Lavius be on our doorstep?”
“Seconds.”
“Someone else needs to cast the spell,” I said. “We’ll break the wards, you’ll meet Lavius’s attack and someone else casts the spell.”
“No one else can cast this spell.” Rossi’s eyes tightened. “It is…difficult. It is in the blood that flows through his veins. And it takes an ancient, a man of my making.”
“A vampire?” Ryder asked. Behind the word was the hint that there were a lot of vampires in the town.
“The maker who turned Ben.”
Oh. Well, we only had one of those and he was right there on the other side of the table glaring at Ryder.
Goodbye plan A.
“We’ll attack him, keep him occupied while you cast the spell. What do we hit him with first?” Ryder said, quickly moving on to the salient points. I liked that in a man. A knowledge of when to get to the violent stuff.
“There are weapons at our disposal,” Rossi said. “Some we should choose not to use.”
“Like
Delaney?” Bathin asked. He’d kept his mouth shut for the last half hour, so I was sort of surprised he’d chimed in now.
“No,” Myra said to the demon. “Delaney is not a weapon and not going to be used as one.” Then to Rossi: “You said the bite wasn’t something we could use to kill Lavius.”
“It isn’t.” Firm. A challenge.
Bathin sighed. “For want of a nail, a kingdom is lost, old one.”
I thought I could hear Ryder’s knuckles crack as he tightened his fist. “You have something to add?” he asked the demon.
“This is not my sad little carnival. You don’t want my opinion.”
“Then keep your mouth shut.”
Right. Growling at the demon was going to shut him up. Why hadn’t I tried that?
“But since you asked so sweetly, Mr. Bailey,” Bathin said with a beatific smile, “that bite and the tie to Lavius it planted in Delaney can absolutely kill him.”
“No,” Rossi said. “It cannot.”
“You’re afraid of shadows, ancient one,” Bathin said. “And you’ll let every person in this town fall just to keep your promise to a man long dead.”
“Be silent,” Rossi snarled, “or I will cut your tongue out before your heart.”
“Whoa.” I stood up, hands extended, as if I could separate the demon and the vampire more than the table between them already did. “There are rules we follow here, Rossi. You know that. There is no killing allowed. Not between creatures, not between humans, not at all.”
Ryder was also standing, his hands loose at his sides like he was ready to pull a gun and start pointing it at someone.
I hoped he wasn’t armed because I was not prepared for this discussion to dissolve into a discharge of weapons.
“The demon is protected under the laws set into the very soil of this town,” Ryder said in that odd drone that happened when Mithra’s power was pushing hard on his willpower. “That we even have laws, rules, tenets to harbor a demon pisses me off. But if you break that law, Rossi, it won’t just be Delaney dishing out the consequences. It will be me, and the god of contracts through me.”
Rossi didn’t look even slightly cowed by either of our threats.
Aaron leaned forward in his seat, looking like he wished he’d brought popcorn for the show.
“Don’t add another layer of crazy to this cake,” I said to Rossi. “I’m already juggling all I can handle and I need death-of-the-demon-who-has-my-soul to be off the plate right now.”
I thought he heard me, his stance easing an infinitesimal amount, though his killing gaze never left Bathin.
“Delaney,” Bathin cooed staring right back at Rossi, stone to his fire. “Would you like to know what your father made Rossi promise him before he died? What he promised him about you?”
Rossi shot up out of his chair. I sprang forward at the same time, and so did Bathin. I leaned out in front of the demon, throwing myself between them.
And yeah, sadly, I was fast enough to do so before Rossi started around the table.
“Sit. The hell. Down,” I said.
A sliver of the murderous lust in his eyes seemed to cool. But if I didn’t know Rossi, if I hadn’t been around him since I was a kid, I would be terrified of him.
He chewed on that anger, the muscles at his strong jaw clenching, the meat of his lips stretching against the protrusion of his fangs. He wanted to kill the demon, right here over this cheap conference room table.
I didn’t blame him. The table was awful.
And so was the demon.
Instead, Rossi straightened and sat back in his chair.
I turned on Bathin, who in five minutes had caused more trouble than the literal god of war at the end of the table.
We didn’t have time to play games, didn’t have the luxury to squabble or fight or commit homicide.
“Leave.” I told the demon. “You are not helping and I don’t have time for your shit. You serve nothing but your own desires and I do not have time to coddle self-absorbed monsters. Leave. Now.”
Bathin raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to set me free on this succulent little town? Are you sure I won’t feast on all the sweet treats?”
“You do, I kill you.”
“Then you and I will be locked in death together. For eternity. Much more enjoyable than with your father. Perfectly cozy.”
“Gonna give you to the count of three,” Ryder drawled. He pulled his gun out from the side holster I had foolishly hoped he wasn’t wearing, and placed it on the table in front of him. “One.”
Bathin didn’t even bat an eye at the gun.
Myra reached into her pocket. Seriously? Had everybody brought guns to the conference room?
But she didn’t draw a gun. She withdrew a piece of chalk.
Okay…that was…weird.
Bathin instantly stilled, gaze, body, and breath focused on that slender white tube in her fingers.
She didn’t even look at him, but instead sketched something on the table top, quick sure strokes mapping a design, her dark hair tucked back behind her ears and swinging softly at the curve of her neck with each motion.
“What’s this?” Bathin asked, not even glancing at what she was drawing, but enraptured with her face. He leaned forward, fingers spread, fingertips pressed against the cool table top to hold his weight. The look on his face wasn’t fear. It was curiosity, humor.
And it was hunger.
“Do you think you have the leverage over me to complete this spell? You, a mortal woman? Do you think anyone does?”
She didn’t answer, so he just kept taunting her.
“You have been a clever little girl, haven’t you? I haven’t seen that form of rune in centuries. It didn’t work then, and the one who used it was a master spell worker who I had a vested interest in paying attention to. You could say I was mildly obsessed with him. You, though. What worth are you to me?”
“Hey,” I said, though it was actually better if Myra wasn’t something he thought was worthy. But still, he had insulted my sister, and I couldn’t let that stand.
She never once looked up, her eyes narrowed and shoulders set as she continued to draw.
“What is that?” I asked. “Myra, what are you doing?”
“No one has successfully thrown that spell on me,” Bathin continued. “You are going to be terribly disappointed in yourself when you fail. Do you think I want you—that you are something I want—that you could really send me—”
Myra finished her drawing, looked up, and met his gaze.
“How sad for you. It won’t—”
She snapped the chalk in half.
Bathin disappeared with the sharp bang of a popped balloon.
One minute he was standing there smoldering and smack-talking my sister, the next he was gone, leaving nothing but an empty seat and a hint of his aftershave behind.
Aaron gave her an admiring slow clap. “Nice.”
Myra leaned back against her chair and stared at the broken chalk in her hand for a minute. A pink blush washed up across her cheeks and down her neck. Then she straightened and pulled herself together, all business again.
She wiped her palm across the table top, erasing what she’d drawn and pocketed both pieces of chalk.
“My?” I asked, stunned. “What did you do?”
She smiled, and the smile turned into a breathy laugh. “I popped him out of here.” She snapped her fingers.
“I didn’t even…how did you know…was that magic?”
“It was. Found that little trick in an old journal Dad had in his stuff. The journal belonged to a dwarf who retired here. He didn’t like demons much.”
“Sindri,” Rossi supplied.
“That’s right.” Myra looked around the table. It was just me, Aaron, Than—who had been even quieter than Bathin—Ryder, Rossi and Myra here now. It felt so much more peaceful and friendly, now that Bathin was out of the picture.
“Now.” She turned to Aaron. “Don’t make me th
row you out in a more mundane manner.”
Aaron lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’m here because you wanted my opinion on your plan. I’ll give you my opinion, even if I think your plan is stupid. Which it is.”
“We already heard that,” Ryder said. “Suggest an alternative.”
Aaron shrugged. “I don’t get involved in the mechanics. I’m on vacation which means nothing you do will get me involved in the mechanics.”
Myra rubbed at her eyes, her hand covering her face for a moment.
“Hey,” I asked. “Did doing that magic do anything to you?” I knew all magic came with a price. I didn’t want Myra to be giving up something important when we could have just pushed Bathin out the door, or duct-taped his mouth shut and tied him to the table leg for a little peace and quiet.
“Other than make me happy to finally get him out of my sight?” she asked. “Not really. I’m a daughter of Ordinary, a Reed. I’m connected to the land via the will of the original gods who created the place. All I had to do was make sure I was grounded to the town and my place inside it. Ordinary kicked him out. I just drew the doorway and pushed it open.”
“Will it work on all demons?” Because that could be useful. I was already pulling together a plan for dealing with the possessed vamps I figured Lavius might throw at us. If we lured them to an area we had chalked up with that spell, we could get rid of them.
Myra opened her mouth, but Rossi answered.
“No it won’t work on all demons. Not in a broad stroke, as you’re thinking. It takes…the spell is counter-weighted by the demon’s own desire. He has to want something about the person who is casting it, be invested in them in some significant way. A desire to kill them, to make a deal with them, to possess them, to love them.”
Myra startled at that last thing.
I didn’t like where this was going.
“It’s not those,” she said firmly. “It worked because he knows how much I hate that he has Delaney’s soul. He wants to watch me squirm.”
Rossi studied Myra, a slightly quizzical look on his face. “One could assume so.”
Which was about as vague an agreement as I’d ever heard. I looked at Myra, trying to see what Rossi saw in her, what he suspected.