by Ким Харрисон
My eyes closed. "Nick. Did you know your aura is rimmed in black? You look like a wraith in my mind's eye."
"So do you, love," Nick whispered, pulling me close.
Shocked, I did nothing as his arms went about me. My aura was as tainted as his? I hadn't done anything but let it save my life.
"He has all the answers, Rachel," Nick whispered, and I felt my hair move with his breath. "I can't help it."
The demon cleared its throat, and I pulled away from Nick.
"Nick Sparagmos is my best student since Benjamin Franklin," the demon said, its accent making it sound completely reasonable as it touched Ivy's screen to make it go blue. It didn't fool me, though. The thing couldn't be swayed by pity, guilt, or remorse. If it had found a way past my circle, it would have killed us both for the audacity of calling it from the ever-after—whether it had been intentional or not.
"Though Attila could have gone far if he had been able to look past the military applications," it continued, looking at its nails. "And it is hard to best Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci for outright cleverness."
"Name dropper," I muttered, and the demon inclined its head graciously. It was more obvious than words that if Nick had the demon at his beck and call for three years, he would agree to anything to keep it there. Which was exactly what the demon was counting on.
"Um, Rachel," Nick said as he took my elbow. "Since he's here, you might want to arrange for a summoning name from him so he doesn't show up every time you close a circle and draw a pentagram. That's how he got my name. I gave it to him for his summoning name."
"I know your names, Rachel Mariana Morgan," the demon said. "I want a secret."
My stomach clenched. "Sure," I said tiredly, scrambling for something. I had a few of those. My eyes fell on the photo of my dad and Trent's father, and I silently held it up to the transparent sheet of ever-after.
"Where's the secret in that?" the demon mocked. "Two men standing before a bus." Then it blinked. I watched, fascinated, as the horizontal slits went wide until its eyes were almost black. It stood, reaching out for it. A muttered curse slipped past its lips as its fingers smacked into the barrier. I smelled burnt amber.
My pulse leapt at its sudden interest. Maybe it was enough to completely pay off my debt. "Interested?" I taunted. "Clear my debt, and I'll tell you who they both are."
The demon fell back, chuckling. "Oh, you think it's that important?" it mocked. But its eyes tracked the photo as I set it on the counter behind me. Without warning, it shifted forms. The red blur of ever-after melted and flowed. I stared, appalled, as it took on my face. It even had freckles. It was like staring into a mirror, and my skin crawled as my image moved without my volition. Nick went ashen, his long face slack as he stared from me to it.
"I know who both men are," the demon said in my voice. "The one is your father, the other is Trenton Aloysius Kalamack's father. But the camp bus?" Its eyes fastened on me in a devious delight. "Rachel Mariana Morgan, you have indeed given me a secret."
It knew Trent's middle name? Then the same demon attacked us both. Someone had wanted us both dead. For an instant I was tempted to ask the demon who, then dropped my eyes. I could find that out on my own, and it wouldn't cost me my soul.
"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 straight 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 ne
eds 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?"