The Second Summoning

by Tanya Huff

  “You don’t look very happy. Maybe I can help.”

  Byleth turned to find a middle-aged man standing very close. Under the edge of a sheepskin hat, his hair was graying at the temples, his smile was warm and charming, his eyes crinkled at the corners with sincere goodwill, his heart was blacker than hers.

  “All right, let’s get this straight,” she snarled, tossing aside even a pretense of subtlety. “Thinking that I’m lost and alone in the big city, you’re about to get all fatherly and offer me a place to crash. Over the next little while you’ll addict me to heroin, then put me out on the street to quote, pay you back, unquote. You’ll take every cent I make and control me with physical violence.” He stepped back. She closed the distance between them. “Did I miss something?”

  “I’m not…”

  “You are so. But that’s not the point. The point is you’re trying to pull this bullshit on me.” Her eyes narrowed and went black from lid to lid. “I’ve had a really bad day. I mean, like really bad. I’m not even supposed to have genitalia!”

  “I…”

  “You can take a walk in traffic, asshole!”

  Emergency crews were scraping him out from under the streetcar when she realized she could have handled that better. She couldn’t feel her feet, every muscle in her body had clenched tight, she couldn’t seem to get her shoulders to come down from around her ears, and her stomach felt like it was lying along her spine. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Next time wait until he’s got you inside the apartment! A quick examination of the gathered crowd suggested there wouldn’t be a next time any time soon. “Isn’t that always the way,” she muttered miserably, “never a pimp around when you need one.”

  Manifesting the dark powers left her feeling wrung out and weak—it shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t manage enough energy to care.

  “Hey, you look like you could use a place to stay.”

  “Well, duh.” Turning, she came face-to-face with…“Oh, great. A God-pimp.”

  Leslie/Deter’s lip curled. Pretty much all his understanding and patience had been used up earlier in the day when he’d gotten physical with his so-called friends. “Fine. Stay outside and freeze, then.”

  Since that was beginning to seem highly likely, Byleth grabbed his arm as he started to walk away. “You’re supposed to be nicer than that. I’m not, but you’re one of the good guys.” When he continued to look annoyed, she sighed. “All right, I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m so…sorry.”

  Harry Porter had been right. It did get easier. The implications made her knees buckle.

  Leslie/Deter caught her, apologizing profusely in turn, and walked her toward the mission, explaining that after the meal they’d be hearing the word of God.

  “Which word?”

  “What?”

  “Where I come from, we get a kick out of hearing the old guy try and say aluminum.…”

  ELEVEN

  THE PHONE WAS RINGING when Nalo got back to her apartment. The strident and slightly superior tone suggested she’d best hurry and pick up, or the next call would happen at a considerably more inconvenient time. So there. Some of the older Keepers had a theory that the entire telephone system had been touched by darkness just before the invention of call waiting and had grown increasingly corrupted ever since.

  Kicking off her boots before she hit the carpet, she lifted the receiver and snarled, “I am not interested in changing my long distance service provider, but I will change you into something unpleasant unless you leave me the hell alone.”

  “Nalo?”

  “Oh. Claire.” Turning on the table light, she dropped onto the sofa. “Well, wasn’t that a waste of a bad mood. What’s up?”

  On the other end of the line, Claire took a deep breath. “We’ve got trouble.”

  “Out there in River City.”

  There was cognitive pause, then: “What?”

  Swinging her feet up onto the coffee table, Nalo sighed. “Never mind. And while I feel for your trouble, it can’t possibly top what I’ve got going on right here.”

  “There’s a demon loose.”

  “And then again…” The older Keeper stared down at the black glitter dusting her fingertips. “I closed a couple of holes it opened today.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. It seems to be starting small—a little vandalism, a little urban renewal…”

  “Urban renewal?”

  “It convinced a pimp to walk under a streetcar. Hard on the driver but no loss to the city. There’ll be cascading holes from the witnesses still to track down but, around here at least, it’s been a low-key embodiment of darkness.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “And a bit of a surprise.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s more.”

  “You mean the way we can’t track it down because there’s also an angel walking around big as life and twice as shiny?”

  “How did you…?”

  “Know that? Well, I’d have to say that a piece of darkness walking around without any of us the wiser was the first clue, but I also ran into your sister today.…”

  “Why would Diana hide the angel from another Keeper?”

  “Why would Diana turn the vacuum cleaner hose into kudzu?” Austin snorted, kneading a pillow into shape. “Why does Diana do anything?”

  “Because she’s a pain in the ass?”

  “That would be my guess,” the cat agreed.

  “Maybe she’s embarrassed about her part in his creation,” Dean offered.

  “I don’t think Diana gets embarrassed.”

  “Maybe she’s taking him for a test drive.” When both Claire and Dean turned to stare, Austin shrugged. “Well, pardon me for using a euphemism, but didn’t Nalo say that from a block away she thought he was just a guy?”

  “Diana wouldn’t…” Claire’s voice trailed off. “Okay, it’s possible,” she admitted after a moment’s thought, “but she says she’s a lesbian.”

  “No, she said she was a lesbian back in November. She could easily be a hemocyanin by now.”

  “I don’t think that’s…”

  “The point is,” Austin interrupted, “is that she’s seventeen and subject to change without notice. And she’s met a young man she can be herself with. Or have you forgotten how seductive that is?”

  Claire looked up at Dean, looked past her reflection in his glasses, and sank into the blue of his eyes. “No. I haven’t forgotten.”

  He reached out and stroked the back of his hand over her cheek. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  “We got into this together.”

  “Still…”

  “Still need to get hold of Diana,” Austin reminded them acerbically.

  Claire reluctantly sat back and picked up her cell phone again.

  “Yes, okay, I should have thought of how I’d get home before I went into the closet.” Diana held the phone out from her ear, counted to six, then tried again. “Mom…Mom! I’m not being a smart-ass, I’m agreeing with you. And since there was money for a hotel room, not a bus ticket home, I’m obviously supposed to be here—no harm, no foul. Aren’t you the one who always says, nothing happens to a Keeper by chance?” She winced. “Of course I listen to you. Yeah, okay, I didn’t listen to that. Or that. Mom…Mom. Mother! I have to go now. I’ll stay in touch. ’Bye. No. Now. Good-bye.”

  She hung up, leaned back, closed her eyes, and began rhythmically beating her head against the wall.

  “You didn’t tell your mother I was with you,” Samuel pointed out from the room’s other bed.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “A lie of omission is still a lie, and a lie is the destroyer of trust.”

  “Why don’t you just let me deal with that?”

  “Banging your head isn’t going to do anything but annoy the person in the next room.”

  She opened her eyes and glared at him. “There isn’t anyone in the next room.”

  “But still…”
r />   “Shut up.”

  “The phone’s ringing.”

  “I’m beginning to think Claire was right about this whole joining the twenty-first century thing.” Scooping up the receiver, she closed her eyes again. “Sorry, Mom, but nothing’s changed in the last thirty seconds.”

  “It’s not Mom. It’s me.”

  “Oh, joy.” Straightening, she mouthed, It’s Claire, so no background noise, toward Samuel. “How did you get this number?”

  “It’s your cell phone number.”

  About to explain that she didn’t have her cell phone with her, Diana decided that might be something she’d be better off keeping to herself. “Oh. Yeah.”

  “Diana, that angel you’re hiding is blocking my…our, ability to find the demon that came through at the same time, so you’ve got to stop playing around and send it back.”

  “It’s not an it, Claire, it’s a him and…” The rest of the sentence suddenly clicked into place. “Did you say demon?”

  “Demon?” Samuel scooted to the edge of the bed, eyes wide.

  Diana mouthed a stern, “Shut up!” at him so she could hear Claire’s answer.

  “Yes, a demon.”

  “That’s so not good.”

  “Low-fat cheese is not good, Diana. This is bad. I don’t know what you’re up to with that angel, and I don’t want to know…”

  “Come to think of it, how do you know?”

  “Nalo saw you with him and mentioned it when I called her, but that’s not important. He’s got to go back right now.”

  “No.” Diana shook her head—an unseen emphasis from Claire’s point of view but emphasis just the same. “Sending him back would be the same as killing him.”

  “You can’t kill him, there’s nothing to kill. He’s a being of light.”

  “He’s more than that.”

  “How can he be more than that? He’s already a superior being!”

  “Fine. He’s less than that, then. He’s a person, Claire.” Who was attempting to eavesdrop on both sides of the conversation. A vigorously applied elbow solved that distinctly unangelic problem. Flashing him a triumphant smile, as he flopped around gasping for breath, she amended, “Okay, maybe he’s not entirely a person, but there’s a person in there.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, you are not suggesting that a…a penis and a couple of testicles is what makes a man.” Claire’s tone laid a distinctly weird subtext under the words.

  Wishing she had time to translate, Diana sighed impatiently. “No, I’m not suggesting that. But they’ve given him access to emotions and experiences genderless angels can’t have.”

  “I’m happy for him, but there’s a demon loose we can’t find until the angel goes—therefore the angel has to go. And if he knew what was at stake, I’m sure he’d agree. Is he there with you right now? Let me talk to him.”

  “No.”

  Samuel poked her in the leg. “Your sister wants to talk to me?”

  She couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.”

  “So give me the phone.”

  “Not happening.” Scooting out from under his arm, she crossed the room and glared at him from beside the bathroom door, the phone cord stretched taut between them. “One step in this direction and I’ll lock myself in.”

  “Diana!”

  “Claire!” Attention jerked back to her sister, she rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to yell. It doesn’t matter if he agrees with you or not because I’d still have to kill him, and I won’t do it.”

  “For the last time, you wouldn’t be killing him!”

  “Would.”

  “Stop being so childish. Listen, I can’t get there tonight; the OPP have closed the highway north of Barrie because of the storm. But we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. This is serious. Send the angel back. Remember your responsibili…”

  Diana jabbed at the power off button and pitched the phone across the room. “I do not need her to remind me of my responsibilities,” she growled as Samuel rubbed his ear where the phone had clipped him on its way by. “If they knew you, they wouldn’t be able to kill you either.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “Good.”

  He sighed and spread his hands. “But there’s a demon in the world, and if returning me to the light would expose the demon…”

  “You have to say that,” Diana interrupted. “And knock off the sacrificial pose, I’m not buying it.” She threw herself down on the empty bed.

  “Bouncing like that will destroy the mattress and the box spring.”

  “Who are you getting your Higher Knowledge from, Martha Stewart?”

  “Did you know you can create a lovely mailbox cozy out of a piece of felt and only six hundred dollars’ worth of handwoven French taffeta ribbon?”

  “What?” She squirmed around and stared.

  Samuel grinned.

  The corners of her mouth beginning to curve, Diana grabbed a pillow and heaved it at him. “Jerk!”

  He wasn’t sure why he considered that a compliment, but he did. “Diana, you have to send me back. I don’t want to go, but I understand why I have to.”

  Squinting in the sudden glow, Diana sighed. Nothing like self-sacrifice to bring out the angel in a guy. If Claire or any other Keeper met him in this state, they’d send him back without even thinking about it. Easy answer—don’t let Claire or any other Keeper meet him.

  And how hard could that be? No Summons, no directions—no way to find them.

  “Mom? Claire. When you were talking to Diana a few minutes ago, did she happen to mention what hotel she’s staying at? Carlton Hotel, room 312. Thanks.”

  “That looks like room 81Z,” Austin pointed out.

  “I’d like to see you do better with an eyeliner on a condom wrapper.”

  “Well, it’s nice you found something to use them for.”

  Dean reached across the cat and picked up the address. “I don’t like this.”

  “But they’re the only kind we’ve got.”

  “What? No!” Suddenly flustered, he dropped the packet. It bounced off the sniggering cat and rolled under the bed. “I meant, I don’t like going to your mother,” he explained, dropping to his knees and running his hand beneath the edge of the bedspread. “It seems, I don’t know, sneaky.”

  “No choice.” Claire folded her legs up out of his way. “First of all, Diana’s confused. Secondly, I’ve dealt with nothing but angel or demon sites since it happened, which is telling me pretty clearly that this is my responsibility. Third…” Reaching out, she grinned and ran her fingers through his hair. “…there’s just something about a man on his knees.”

  “Claire…”

  “What?”

  “Found it!” Straightening, he was about to toss the packet onto her lap when he frowned. “This isn’t ours…”

  “Eww.”

  Still glowing, although beginning to dim, Samuel lay back on the bed, hands under his head, and stared at the ceiling. “You know what I’d like to experience before I…go back.”

  “You’re not going back,” Diana told him absently. She paced the length of the hotel room one more time, examining and discarding another half-dozen bad ideas. The best she’d been able to come up with so far had involved rather more duct tape than she thought she could get her hands on.

  “But still…”

  “No.”

  “Pizza.”

  “What?” Either angels came with euphemisms high school didn’t cover—which was highly unlikely—or that wasn’t the experience she’d been expecting.

  “And loud music.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged as well as he was able, given his position. “I don’t know.”

  Well, she hadn’t come up with any better ideas. “I could handle a pizza.”

  “I think I just want to eat mine.”

  “Oh, please, send me back now.” Falling backward, Samuel groaned and rubbed both hands over
a visibly distended belly. “Why did I do that to myself?”

  Compelled to answer truthfully, Diana snorted. “I think you were showing off.”

  “Showing off what?”

  “Beats me.”

  “I feel awful.”

  She dropped down onto the other bed. “What did you expect after a large with the works and half of my Hawaiian?”

  “I wasn’t expecting anything!” A mighty belch delayed part two of the protest. Startled but impressed, he waited until the echoes died down before continuing. “I just thought.…”

  “Thinking? As if. You were being a guy.” She squirmed back toward the pillows, propping them against the wall. “And speaking of, you’re starting to smell.”

  “My olfactory senses have been working since I got here, thank you very much.”

  “Right. Rephrasing—you stink.”

  “I stink?”

  Eyes rolling, she picked up the TV remote. “Don’t take my word for it. Check the pits.”

  He lifted an arm. “I’m not supposed to smell like this?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll show you how the shower works in the morning. After that last incident, I don’t want you approaching new plumbing on your own.”

  “I thought I was supposed to urinate against the wall.”

  “Uh-huh.” A quick flip through the available channels brought the expected result: there was nothing on.

  “What was that?” Samuel heaved himself up onto his elbows. “No, not that. Back. Back. There.”

  Diana frowned. “It’s a documentary on lions.”

  “What are they doing?”

  She adjusted the contrast, but they were still doing it. “They’re having sex.”

  “Kewl.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  Vaguely proud of himself, although uncertain of why he should be, he belched again.

  Byleth hadn’t expected to have so much fun. With a sense of Keepers too close for comfort, she’d planned on a low profile and a road trip in the morning. She’d listened to the praying, she’d eaten the meal, and she hadn’t been able to stop a snort of amusement during the preaching.