by Kim Harrison
I forced a smile so Trent wouldn’t know how much this hurt. Damn it, Hodin. What is with you and Al? “I’d think so. It’s burning me up, Trent,” I said, and he took my hand, his fingers lacing through mine, grounding me. “The little snot could change Al’s soul same as mine, and he won’t. Selfish, pigheaded moss wipe.” I gave in and sniffed. So I was upset. I had a right to be. “It’s not even a matter of payment. He won’t do it.”
“You, ah, do realize that if you watched him change your aura, you and Bis could probably change Al’s, too.”
My head jerked up, and I stared at Trent, elation pulling me straight. “Trent, I love you,” I said, pulling him close for an exuberant kiss. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Rachel, about the Goddess—,” he said, but I’d already pushed back and was twisting the ring on my finger.
“I won’t do it if it can’t be reversed,” I said as I stood, scanning the room for any sign of the demon, but there was nothing. My eyes narrowed, and my lips pressed. Head down, I spun the ring again, going widdershins this time. Still nothing.
“He’s not coming,” Trent said, and I huffed at his obvious relief.
“You mother pus bucket of a lame-ass demon!” I shouted, tired and cranky and feeling mean. “You are a cowardly ball of spider snot!”
“Maybe the spell went bad?” Trent reached out, and I sidled away, not wanting to be soothed.
“It’s not bad,” I almost snapped. “He just doesn’t want to show!” Ticked, I pulled the ring off and stuffed it in my pocket.
“Ah, how about some more coffee?” Trent asked, and the sound of plates clinking rose.
“Sure.” Angry, I fell back onto the couch as Trent gathered everything but our cups and headed up the stairs. The sound of his steps grew faint, and I stared at the steaming pool and wiped a tear of frustration away. I wasn’t going to cry. “Cowardly ass demon,” I whispered, “you’ve spent too much time as a crow.”
Then I frowned, pulling myself up and wiping my eyes at the clatter of pixy wings. I knew better than to shout. Jenks could hear me half a county away. The last thing I needed was him trying to make me feel better with his lame-ass dad jokes, heavy on the vulgarity.
But it wasn’t Jenks who pulled to a black-sparkle halt over the stacked demon books. It wasn’t Jumoke, either, though the pixy facing me had the same dark curling hair. Jumoke could never have afforded the glitter of black gold woven into the flowing robe bound tight at his waist and fluttering in the breeze from his wings.
“Hodin?” I said, recognizing him. “Have you been here all the time? Damn it, I told you to stop spying on me.”
Hodin darted up and I pressed back into the couch. “I’m not spying on you. And I’m not a cowardly ball of spider snot,” the pixy-demon said, hovering just before my nose. “Say it.”
“You are not a cowardly ball of spider snot,” I blurted, then looked up at the third floor, where Trent had gone, and lowered my voice. “If you shift my aura, can you shift it back?”
Hodin the pixy sniffed, turning in midair and rising as I’d seen Jenks do a hundred times before. “I’m not working here,” he said, and then my eyes widened at the sudden falling feeling in the pit of my gut.
“Trent!” I shouted, but I don’t think the word made it past my lips as Hodin yanked me into a ley line, and I was nothing more than a thought.
CHAPTER
15
Hodin’s aura skated smoothly over me in a protective cocoon even as I felt myself dissolve. Before he could do more, I snapped a bubble around myself to maintain a bare semblance of privacy in my thoughts. Even so, I got the sensation of a satisfied nod from Hodin at my quickness. The hum of the lines scoured through me to make my synapses tingle pleasantly. I had no idea where we were going, and I reached for my phone to call Trent when we misted into existence.
“My church?” I said, voice echoing in the two-by-four-scented darkness of the vestibule. It was after noon, but the construction-cluttered sanctuary was dim, lit only by the remaining window and the red-and-green glow on the sawdust-dirty floor.
“I have no spelling lab as of yet. We will use yours. Such as it is.” Hodin strode forward and I followed. He’d changed. Not just from a pixy back to his usual tall, broody self, but from his dark leather to an extravagantly embroidered vest, robe, and . . . pantaloons?
But it was the robe that caught my attention, the glistening rich purple at his shoulders darkening to black at the hem brushing the floor. It was bound about his waist with a gold sash that jingled with tiny fringe bells. Wide sleeves draped long, making it a rather dangerous outfit to spell in even if the weird mix of demon and ancient elf made him look eminently capable. I’d never seen anything like it. His head was bare, but a traditional cylindrical elven cap wouldn’t have been out of place.
“I can’t truthfully say that your spelling lab is a pleasure,” Hodin muttered, twitching his hem free of sawdust as he wove past the construction equipment. “But we will likely be undisturbed, and sometimes that’s more important.”
I stiffened, shifting direction to avoid walking over the plywood covering the hole in the floor. “We’ve had some issues. You aren’t catching us at our best.”
Hodin paused as he gained the ankle-high stage, where the coffee table and chairs still remained. “Us? Do you mean you and . . . Al?”
It was the first time I’d heard him call him Al instead of Gally, even though he’d almost spat the word. “Me, Jenks, and Ivy,” I said, and he seemed to lose about half his annoyance. “Al doesn’t share space with me.”
“You may yet survive.” He stood with his clasped hands hidden in his sleeves, effectively blocking my way up onstage. “Before I do this, I want to know why you changed your mind.”
I squinted up at him. “You were there. Spying. You tell me.”
His eyes narrowed. “I was not spying. Say it so there’s no future complications.”
Fine. I cocked my hip, not liking that he’d put himself higher than me. “In return for me and Bis keeping our mouths shut about you, you’re going to teach me how to do this, and I’m going to change Al’s soul expression.” My chin lifted. “Chicken.”
“You think so, eh?” he said, but he’d dropped back, and I immediately took the step up.
The challenge in his voice was irritating, and as he brushed the sawdust off the couch, I shifted the dried lasagna dish from the top of the coffee table to under it. Sure, he’d bitched about my spelling space, but it felt good here and we both knew it. “What kind of complications? What do I have to do? Kill someone?”
I looked up at his silence to see him eyeing the shadow of the cross still on the wall. “Just who you are is all. What you want to be,” he said softly.
“What is it between you and Al?” I asked, and he turned, lip twitching. “Yes, he’s an ass, but when you know why, it’s almost charming.”
“Charming?” Hodin gestured, and a woven basket of spelling supplies materialized on the table. “You have no idea what he’s done.”
I snatched a gold silk scarf from the top and began to wipe the stray ions from the table. “I’m not totally ignorant,” I said, remembering throwing up and crying in a FIB bathroom after reading the crime scene reports of what Al had done as Piscary’s murder weapon of choice. “But what I’d like to know is what did he do to you.”
Hodin stiffened. “Perhaps you should contact your elf before he shows up.”
“Perhaps I should,” I said, embarrassed that I’d forgotten. “Excuse me.”
I dropped the silk scarf and stepped away. Calling would be easier, but I didn’t want Hodin listening in, so I simply texted Trent that I was okay and at the church learning how to shift my aura and that if I could wake up Bis, I’d jump myself back to him before dinner and we could take Ellasbeth’s car to her and pick up the girls together.
But wh
en I pocketed my phone and turned to find Hodin waiting, a stab of fear brought me up short. The mystics hadn’t shown any interest in me since Newt had become the Goddess, but I hadn’t done much ley line magic, and certainly nothing as flagrant as this promised to be. “Does this require the Goddess’s attention?” I asked. My voice quavered, and I hated that he heard it.
“No,” he said shortly. “I need to speak to your gargoyle,” he added, eyes on the exposed rafters.
“Before sunset?” I flopped into the chair across from him. “Good luck with that.”
Hodin frowned at the raised dust glinting in the dusky light. “Call him.” He leaned across the table in challenge. “You do know how to call him?”
I sat up, embarrassed. “He’s only fifty years old. He’s not going to stay awake.” Hodin sighed, and then I felt myself warm as I realized he was looking at my no-doze amulet peeking from behind my shirt. “Oh. Yeah. Hang on.”
“Hang on?” Hodin muttered. “Does something happen when you summon your goyle?”
But I’d already settled myself, and tapping the nearest line, I mentally shouted, Bis!
Hairy church bells. Bis was suddenly awake, his alarm obvious. Rachel? Where are you?
I felt bad at his panic, but at least it was keeping him awake. I might have found a way to shift my aura so you can teach me the lines. Want to try it?
Bis’s fear vanished, replaced by a suddenly sleepy elation. It’s hardly afternoon, he thought, his thoughts slurring somehow. You’re, like, what? Downstairs. Sure . . .
My blurred focus tightened on Hodin. “Here he comes,” I said, but my proud smile faded at the sudden crashing from the vestibule stairway and Bis flew in, almost hitting the wall before landing on my shoulder to make my hair fly. “Hi, Hodin,” he slurred, eyes drooping as his tail wrapped around my back and arm. And then he was asleep, his snoring like a resonating bell as I blinked fast and tried to hide my heartache. Despite his catlike size, he was as light as a bird on my shoulder, but what hurt was that I couldn’t feel the lines through him. Not like before.
Eyes narrowing, Hodin frowned at us. Embarrassed, I awkwardly wrangled the no-doze amulet from my neck and dropped it around Bis’s. Still there was no change, and I tweaked the kid’s foot with a shouted “Bis!” Finally he snorted awake, his red eyes blinking owlishly and the white tufts of his ears standing out strong against his blush.
“Um, sorry,” he said to Hodin, his feet pinching me in his nervousness. “Why don’t you have a line matching your aura? I thought all the demons remade their lines.”
“I did not,” Hodin said sourly.
“But you had one once,” Bis insisted, head cocked as he “listened” to the demon’s aura. “Europe?”
“Enough.” Hodin’s annoyance showed in the slant of his eyes. “If you tell anyone about me, I will pull Rachel’s heart from her and feed it to the nearest dog. Understand?”
“Sure,” Bis said around a yawn. “I’m Bis. World breaker.” He held out a fist, and when Hodin ignored it, he let it drop. “Bell clapper,” he muttered, and Hodin’s frown deepened.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I reached to touch Bis’s feet. “He’s got lost-boy issues.”
Hodin unlaced his arms and leaned over the table. “So we are all in agreement,” he said shortly. “I shift Rachel’s soul to her original auratic expression to hide her from the baku, and you both keep your mouths shut about me.”
“Baku?” Bis interrupted.
“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered. “If Hodin here can shift my soul expression, I can shift Al’s, and he will be safe.”
“Not to mention I could teach you the songs the lines sing so you can jump them by yourself,” Bis said, and his grip on my shoulder tightened in excitement.
Hodin began to tie back his sleeves with a gold cord he took from the robe’s pocket. “Do you agree, Bis, world breaker?”
“Agreed,” he blurted, now fully awake and eager.
Hodin eyed us sourly. “But there will be no instruction while you’re wearing that.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed, feeling Bis’s claws leave me an instant before I misted out, returning to find myself unmoved, but not unchanged. “Dude,” I said, my attention going from Bis, now perched on a nearby sawhorse, to myself. Hodin had dressed me in a smaller version of his own robe, and I quickly shifted the extravagant silk to make sure I still had my own clothes on under it. “Oooh, thanks,” I said as I felt the fabric between my fingers and let it fall. Mine had that same purple-to-black gradient, but it was lined with silver instead of gold. There were little stars on the hem, too, and I smiled.
“Sleeves?” Hodin directed, and I fumbled in the robe’s pocket, sash bells jingling as I found the silver ties and bound them safely back. “It’s a spelling robe,” he said. “It helps neutralize the effects of your aura when working in the higher magics. I’m surprised that Gally hasn’t given you one, but Gally was always a hack.”
My smile faltered. “I’m not your student,” I said, and on his perch, Bis’s nails dented the wood. “And I never will be.”
“We’ll see,” Hodin said, making me wonder if this was why he was being so helpful. If he snagged me as a student, the demons might tolerate him. I kind of thought that was why they tolerated Al. “This is a complex curse. Very little is in the collective. We start from a clean slate.”
Hodin pulled the basket closer, and I eagerly looked in to see the expected menagerie of supplies: snips, a ceremonial knife black with age, yellow wax the size of a golf ball, several bags tied with colored ribbons and tags. Taking out the largest satchel, Hodin threw it at me. I caught it by rote, used to having Al throw things at me.
“Circle, please,” Hodin said, surprised I’d caught it. “As large as you can manage.”
I stood, bells jingling. “Uh . . . ,” I said, guessing the bag held salt.
Hodin looked up from his row of tiny bags. “Can you manage the table at least?”
“I can close the circle at Fountain Square,” I said dryly. “If you really want one as big as I can manage, I need more salt.” Damn, I felt as if I could do anything in this getup, but that was probably the point. It even had a hood.
Hodin pursed his lips. “Then whatever size you want,” he amended.
“Sure.” Smug, I noisily dragged Bis’s sawhorse into my proposed circle.
“You good?” I asked, and Bis nodded, his eyes wide. I followed them to Hodin fussing with his little bags on the glass table. Then I did a double take. It wasn’t glass anymore but slate. Cool. The salt went hissing down as I paced an even circle to enclose the couch and two chairs.
“Bis,” Hodin said abruptly, and I jerked, needing to shove the salt back to an even line with my boot. “I’m satisfied that you’ve bonded to Rachel despite your youth.”
Youth? I thought. The kid had sung the end of one world and the beginning of another.
“Thank you.” Bis’s wings turned red and his white ear tufts vanished as he pinned his ears.
“I’ll need guidance to shift her soul’s expression. If we’re changing it to hide her from the baku, we may as well attempt to return it to her original. A demon reduced to public transportation is appalling. To do so, we will first separate her aura into its constituent parts, much as a prism divides a beam of sun into a rainbow. From there, you can advise me on what to change.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Bis shifted his wings, and the wood under his nails creaked.
Nervousness curled up through me like smoke as I sat down across from Hodin. Safety from the baku would be nice. Giving that same protection to Al would be even better. Regaining the ability to get around like a demon was frosting. “My only worry is the mystics might recognize me,” I said. “I’m not doing this if you can’t easily shift it back.”
“I can return it to its current hue,” Hodin said,
sounding amused at my fear. “And despite your thoughts that you can waste the knowledge on that ill-begot, insufferable, low-life, poor excuse of a demon you look to, you will do much of it yourself.”
“Fine with me,” I said, wondering if he was lazy or simply evaluating me as a possible student. Not going to happen, Hodin. “Let’s do it.”
Hodin checked his tied-back sleeves. “Rachel? Invoke your circle.”
Formal much? Exhaling, I strengthened my grip on the nearest ley line to let more flow through me, and as I felt myself relax in its warmth, I moved a molecule-thin band of reality delineated by the salt into the ever-after. A sheet of gold swarmed up, streaked with red and hazed with only a whisper hint of black patina. My old smut was gone, used to balance out the new ever-after. My nearly pristine aura had gone a long way in convincing the witch’s coven of moral and ethical standards that I wasn’t a “bad” demon. Sheesh.
Hodin gestured to Bis, and the kid obediently poked at it, confirming that nothing had changed in the last twenty minutes and he couldn’t pass through it. Bis, having imprinted on my aura, was the only person able to move through my circle with impunity. At least, he had been until Newt had changed my aura. Any demon could jump me from place to place using the ley lines, but only Bis could teach me to do it by myself. I often thought Newt had been a little smug after shifting my soul resonance, fully knowing Bis wouldn’t be able to teach me how to jump the lines. Sort of like a nervous parent taking the car keys from a new driver.
To be honest, my aura-laced circle looked the same as it always did, but souls, and hence the auras that sprung from them, were like retina patterns, always the same, but forever changing.
Hodin took up his crucible and ceremonial knife, both black from use and time. “A crucible of blood, please,” he said, handing them to me. “From your Jupiter finger, if you will.”
Bis blanched to an ill-looking gray. “I didn’t know you’d have to cut yourself.”