The Good, the Bad, and the Undead

by Kim Harrison

  “Call us even for you having taken me through the ley lines and leave me forever,” I said, and the demon laughed. I wondered if my teeth were really that big when I opened my mouth.

  “Oh, you are a love,” it said in my voice and its accent. “Seeing that picture is enough to buy a summoning name, perhaps, but if you want to absolve your debt, I need something more. Something that could mean your death if it was whispered into the right ear.”

  The thought that I might be rid of it completely filled me with a reckless daring. “What if I told you why I was there? At that camp?” Nick moved nervously beside me, but if I got rid of the demon forever, it would be worth it.

  The demon snickered. “You flatter yourself. That can’t be worth your soul.”

  “Then I’ll tell you why I was there if I can summon you safely even without a circle,” I blurted, thinking it didn’t want to clear my debt simply so it would have a chance at me later.

  At that, the demon laughed, turning my stomach as its appearance grotesquely shifted back to the British gentleman even as it roared in mirth. “A promise of safety without a circle?” it said, wiping its eyes when it could speak again. “There’s nothing on this God-stinking earth that’s worth that.”

  I swallowed hard. My secret was good—and all I wanted was to be free of it—but it wouldn’t believe it was worth it unless I told it first. “I had a rare blood disease,” I said before I could change my mind. “I think Trent’s father fixed it with his illegal genetic therapy.”

  The demon chortled. “You and several thousand other brats.” Coattails furling, it strode to the edge of the circle. I backpedaled to the counter, heart pounding. “You had better start taking this seriously, or I will lose my good …” It jerked as it caught sight of my book, open to the charm for binding a familiar. “… temper,” it finished, the word trailing to nothing.

  “Where did you—” it stammered, then it blinked, sending its goat-slitted eyes over me, then Nick. I couldn’t have been more surprised when a small sound of disbelief escaped it. “Oh,” it said, sounding shocked. “Damn me thrice.”

  Nick reached behind me, closing the book and covering it with my sheets of black paper. Suddenly I felt ten times more nervous. My gaze roved over the transparent candles and the pentagram made out of salt. What in hell was I doing?

  The demon backed away with a deep-in-thought, toe-to-heel motion. White-gloved hand to its chin, it eyed me with a new intentness, giving me the sensation that it could see through me as easily as I could see through those green candles I had lit, not knowing what they were for. Its quick shift from anger to surprise to an insidious contriving went right to my core, shaking me.

  “Well now, let’s not be hasty,” it amended, its brow furrowed as it glanced at the gadget-strewn watch that appeared on its wrist the instant it looked down. The watch was a twin to Nick’s. “What to do, what to do. Kill you or keep you? Hold to tradition or bow to progress? I do believe the only thing that will stand up in court is to let you decide.” It smiled, and an unstoppable shiver shook me. “And we do want this to be legal. Very, very legal.”

  Frightened, I slid down the counter to tuck into Nick. When did what was legal mean anything to a demon?

  “I will not kill you if you summon me without a circle,” the demon said abruptly, its heels making a sharp tap on the linoleum as it backed up, excitement showing in its jerky motions. “If I’m right, I will be giving you this anyway. We’ll know soon.” It grinned wickedly. “I can hardly wait. Either way, you’re mine.”

  I jumped as Nick took my elbow. “I’ve never heard of a promise of safety without a circle,” he whispered, his gaze pinched. “Ever.”

  “That’s because it’s only given to the walking dead, Nick Sparagmos.”

  The bad feeling in the pit of my stomach started working its way upward, tightening every muscle on the way. There was nothing on this God-stinking earth worth a risk-free summoning, but it gave me that instead of absolving me from my debt? Oh, that had to be good.

  I had overlooked something. I knew it. Resolute, I pushed the feeling aside. I’d made bad deals before and survived them. “Fine,” I said, my voice quavering. “I’m done with you. I want you to go directly back to the ever-after with no deviations along the way.”

  The demon glanced at its wrist again. “Such a harsh mistress,” it said elegantly, in a grand mood as it opened the freezer and took out a frozen box of microwave fries. “But as you’re in the circle and I’m out here, I’ll leave when I damn well please.” Its white-gloved hand was enveloped in a red smear, clearing to show the fries steaming. Opening the fridge, it frowned. “No ketchup?”

  Two P.M., I thought, glancing at the clock. Why was that important? “Nick,” I whispered, going cold. “Take the batteries out of your watch. Now.”

  “What?”

  The clock above the sink said five minutes to two. I wasn’t sure how accurate it was. “Just do it!” I shouted. “It’s connected to Colorado’s atomic clock. It sends out a pulse at midnight their time to reset everything. The pulse will break the circle, just like an active phone line or gas pipe.”

  “Oh … shit,” Nick said, his slack face going white.

  “Damn you witch!” the demon shouted, furious. “I almost had you both!”

  Nick was frantically working at his watch, his long fingers prying at the back. “Do you have a coin? I need a dime to get the back off.” His eyes were frightened as they jerked to the clock above the sink. His hand went into a pocket, searching.

  “Give it here!” I exclaimed, snatching the watch. I threw it on the counter. Plucking the meat-tenderizing hammer from the rack above me, I swung.

  “No!” Nick cried as pieces of watch went everywhere. “We had three minutes yet!”

  I shrugged off his grip and beat at it. “You see!” I exclaimed, bringing the hammer down again and again. “You see how clever it is?” Adrenaline made my motions jerky as I brandished the wooden hammer at him. “It knew you had that watch. It was just waiting! That’s why it agreed to giving me a safe summoning!” With a cry of frustration, I threw the hammer at the demon. It hit the unseen wall of the circle and bounced back to clatter at my feet. There wasn’t much left of Nick’s watch but a bent back and shards of quartz.

  Nick slumped against the counter, the fingers of one hand pressing into his forehead as he bowed his head. “I thought he wanted to teach me,” Nick whispered. “All those times, he was just trying to get me to keep him with me until the circle broke.”

  He jumped as I touched his shoulder, staring at me with frightened eyes. Finally he was frightened. “Do you understand now?” I said bitterly. “It’s going to kill you. It’s going to kill you and take your soul. Tell me you won’t call it again. Please?”

  Nick took a quick breath. He met my eyes, shaking his head. “I’ll be more careful,” he whispered.

  Frustrated, I spun to the demon. “Get out of here like I told you to!” I shouted.

  With an unearthly grace, the demon stood. The vision of a British gentleman took a moment to adjust the lace about its throat and then its cuffs. Motions slow and deliberate, it pushed the chair back under the table. It inclined its head to me, its red eyes watching from over its glasses. “Congratulations on binding your familiar, Rachel Mariana Morgan,” it said. “Summon me with the name Algaliarept. Tell anyone my name, and you’re mine by default. And don’t think that because you don’t have to be in a circle to summon me that you’re safe. You are mine. Not even your soul is worth your freedom.”

  And with that it vanished in a smear of red ever-after, leaving the scent of grease and fried potatoes.

  Seventeen

  I sat at the lab stool and tapped my ankle against the rungs. “How much longer do you think she can drag this out?” I asked Janine as I tossed my head to Dr. Anders. The woman was at her desk before the blackboard, testing one of the students.

  Janine popped her gum and twirled a finger in her enviably stra
ight hair. Her previous fear of my demon mark had turned into a rebellious daring after I told her I got it through my past work with the I.S. Yes, it was ninety percent a lie, but I couldn’t bear her distrust of me.

  “Familiar evaluations take forever,” the young woman agreed. The fingers of her free hand were gentling the fur between her cat’s ears. The white Manx had his eyes closed, clearly enjoying the attention. My gaze slid to Bob. I had put him in one of those big peanut butter tubs with a lid to get him there. Janine had “oooohed” over him, but I knew it was a sympathy oooh. Most everyone had cats. One had a ferret. I thought that was cool, and the man to whom it belonged said they made the best familiars.

  Bob and I were the only two left to be evaluated, and the room was almost empty, but Janine was waiting for Paula, the student with Dr. Anders. I nervously pulled Bob’s bucket closer and glanced out the window to the lights just now flickering on over the parking lot.

  I was hoping to see Ivy that night. We still hadn’t crossed paths since Nick knocked her out. I knew she’d been around. There was coffee in the pot that afternoon, and the messages were cleared. She had gotten herself up and out before I woke up. That wasn’t like her at all, but I knew better than to force a conversation before she was ready.

  “Hey,” Janine said, jerking my attention back. “Paula and I are going out to Piscary’s for some lunch before the sun goes down and the place fills up with undead vamps. Do you want to come? We’ll wait for you.”

  Her offer pleased me more than I wanted to admit, but I shook my head. “Thanks, no. I’ve already made plans to meet my boyfriend.” Nick was working in the next building over, and as he quit today about the time my class was supposed to end, we were going to Micky-d’s for his dinner and my lunch.

  “Bring him along,” Janine urged, her thick blue eyeliner clashing with her otherwise tasteful appearance. “Having one guy at a table of girls always brings the good-looking, single men to the table.”

  I couldn’t help my smile. “No-o-o-o,” I hedged, not wanting to tell her Piscary scared the peas out of me, set my demon scar tingling, and was my roommate’s uncle, for lack of a better word. “Nick’s human,” I said. “It’d be kind of awkward.”

  “You’re dating a human!” Janine whispered harshly. “Hey, is it true what they say?”

  I gave her a sideways look as Paula finished with Dr. Anders and joined us. “About what?” I asked as Paula shoved her unwilling cat into a collapsible carrier amid yowls and spitting. I stared, appalled, as she zipped the door shut.

  “You know …” Janine nudged my arm. “Do they have, uh … Are they really …”

  Pulling my eyes from the shaking carrier, I grinned. “Yeah. They do. They really are.”

  “Yowsers!” Janine exclaimed, reaching to take Paula’s arm. “You here that, Paula? I gotta charm me a human before I get too old to appreciate him.”

  Paula was flushed, looking especially red against her blond hair. “Stop it,” she hissed, shooting a glance at Dr. Anders.

  “What?” Janine said, not a bit flustered as she opened her carrier and her cat voluntarily went in, curling up and purring. “I wouldn’t marry one, but what’s wrong with rolling around with a human while you’re looking for Mr. Right? My dad’s first wife was human.”

  Our conversation was cut short as Dr. Anders cleared her throat. Janine grabbed her purse and slid off the lab stool. Giving the two women a thin smile, I reluctantly dragged Bob’s peanut butter tub off the lab bench and made my way forward. Nick’s pentagrams were tucked under my arm, and Dr. Anders didn’t look up as I slid the container onto the open space of her desk.

  I wanted to wrap this up and get out of here. Nick was going to drive me out to the FIB tonight after lunch so I could talk to Sara Jane. Glenn had asked her to come in so he could get an idea of Dan’s daily patterns, and I wanted to ask her about Trent’s whereabouts the last few days. Glenn wasn’t happy about my angle of investigation, but it was my run, too, damn it.

  Nervous, I forced myself to the back of the chair beside Dr. Anders’s desk, wondering if Jenks was right and Sara Jane’s coming to the FIB was Trent’s roundabout way to get his claws into me. One thing was certain. Dr. Anders wasn’t the witch hunter. She was nasty, but she wasn’t a murderer.

  The two women hesitated in the doorway to the hall, their cat carriers pulling them both off balance. “See you Monday, Rachel,” Janine said.

  I gave her a wave, and Dr. Anders made an annoyed noise deep in her throat. The uptight woman put a blank form on top of the stack of papers and printed my name in large block letters.

  “Turtle?” Dr. Anders guessed as she glanced at my container.

  “Fish,” I said, feeling like an idiot.

  “At least you know your limits,” she said. “Being an earth witch, it would be difficult for you to hold enough ever-after to bind a rat to you, much less the cat I’m sure you wanted.”

  Her voice was just shy of patronizing, and I had to unkink my hands from their tight grip.

  “You see, Ms. Morgan,” Dr. Anders said as she opened the lid and took a peek, “the more power you can channel, the smarter your familiar needs to be. I have an African gray parrot as my familiar.” She brought her gaze to mine. “Is that your homework?”

  I stifled a surge of annoyance and handed her a pink folder full of short essays. Under it were Nick’s water-spotted pentagrams, the black paper curling and warped.

  Dr. Anders’s lips were so tight, they were bloodless. “Thank you,” she said, tossing Nick’s sketches aside without even a cursory glance. “You’ve got a reprieve, Ms. Morgan. But you don’t belong in my class, and I will remove you the first chance I get.”

  I kept my breathing shallow. I knew she wouldn’t dare say that if anyone else was in the room.

  “Well,” she murmured as if tired, “let’s see how much aura your fish was able to accept.”

  “It took a lot.” My mood shifted to one of nervousness. Nick had looked over my aura before he left last night, pronouncing it to be rather thin. It would slowly replace itself, but in the interim I felt vulnerable.

  Dr. Anders kept her opinion of my obvious fluster to herself. Gaze going distant, she dipped her fingers into Bob’s water. The skin on the back of my neck tightened, and it seemed as if my hair drifted in the wind that always seemed to blow in the ever-after. I watched, fascinated, as a blue smear from her hands enveloped Bob. It was ley line power, having turned from red to blue as it reflected the dominant color in the woman’s aura.

  It was unlikely that Dr. Anders was drawing upon the university’s ley line. The power had been taken earlier and stored; it made for faster spell casting. I was willing to bet having a sphere of ever-after in her gut was what made the woman so sour.

  The blue haze about Bob vanished as Dr. Anders drew her fingers out of the water. “Take your fish and get out,” the woman said brusquely. “Consider yourself flunked.”

  Floored, I could do nothing but stare. “What?” I finally managed.

  Dr. Anders wiped her fingers dry on a tissue and threw it in her trash can under her desk. “This fish isn’t bound to you. If it were, the ley line force I cloaked it with would have turned to the color of your aura.” Her gaze went indistinct—as if she was looking through me—then her focus sharpened. “Your aura is a sickly gold. What have you been doing, Ms. Morgan, to get it soiled with such a thick haze of red and black?”

  “But I followed the instructions!” I cried, not standing up as she began writing on my form. “I’m missing a good chunk of my aura. Where is it?”

  “Maybe a bug got into your circle,” she said irately. “Go home, call your familiar, and see what comes.”

  Heart pounding, I licked my lips. How the hell do you call your familiar?

  She looked up from her writing, putting her crossed arms down upon the page. “You don’t know how to call your familiar.”

  It wasn’t a question. I lifted my left shoulder and let it fall in a shrug
. What could I say?

  “I’ll do it,” she muttered. “Give me your hand.”

  I started as she grabbed my wrist. Her bony grip was surprisingly strong. The metallic taste of ash coated my tongue as Dr. Anders muttered an incantation. It was like chewing tinfoil, and I pulled away as soon as her fingers slackened. Rubbing my wrist, I watched Bob, willing him to swim to the surface, or toward me, or something. He just sat on the bottom and swished his tail.

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered, feeling betrayed by my books and the spell-casting abilities I was so confident in. “I followed the instructions to the letter.”

  Dr. Anders was positively smug. “You will find, Ms. Morgan, that unlike earth magic, ley line manipulation requires more than an unimaginative adherence to rules and to-do lists. It needs talent and a certain amount of freethinking and adaptability. Go home. Make a pet out of whatever shows up on your doorstep. And don’t come back to my classroom.”

  “But I did everything right!” I protested, standing up as she made shooing motions and shuffled her papers in dismissal. “I stood on the scrying mirror and pushed my aura off. I got it into the transfer medium without touching it. I put Bob in with it—”

  Dr. Anders jerked, turning her thin face up to me. “Scrying mirror?”

  “I said the incantation,” I continued. “Nick said it didn’t matter if I couldn’t say it in Latin.” Frustrated, I stood before her desk and fumed. If I left, it would be over. It wasn’t the money anymore. It was this woman thinking I was stupid.

  “Latin?” Dr. Anders’s face was slack.

  “I said it,” I protested, replaying the night in my head. “And then—” My breath caught and my face went cold. “And then the demon showed up,” I whispered, sinking down on the chair before my knees gave way. “Oh God. Did it take my aura? Did the demon take my aura?”