American Demon

by Kim Harrison

  I leaned over the dark hole, hands on my knees. Jenks’s influence was showing, but maybe that’s how Bis thought young people talked.

  “It’s not too late to shut him in,” Hodin said at my shoulder, and I gave him a wry look.

  “He’s just a kid.”

  Hodin pulled himself straight, sniffing. “He’s an elf. And he’s from the dewar. His thoughts stink of old men.”

  I sighed, not sure what to do when Bis hauled himself over the burned edges of the hole, claws scraping. “He said he won’t throw any more spells if you don’t,” the gargoyle said.

  I licked my lips, stomach knotting when Hodin shook his head at my unspoken question. But I’d learned never to confuse a potential friend with a potential enemy. “Truce?” I directed into the crawl space.

  “Truce.” Blinking, Zack stood to put his head nearly even with the floor. He was a mess, lasagna on his shirt, dirt on his pants, and cobwebs in his hair. His mix of lost boy and angry pride struck a chord, and after hiking my spelling robe up, I extended my hand.

  “Foot on the edge,” I said, crouching to take Zack’s hand, and using that as a fulcrum, I hauled the dirt- cobweb- and lasagna-coated kid up and out in a quick yank.

  “Thanks,” Zack said, somewhat sullen as he reclaimed his hand and edged from the hole. He looked behind him at the open door, and Bis frowned, a finger to his nose as if to tell him to think it over.

  “Why do you want to talk to Trent?” I said, feeling overdressed and unusually magical. The sensation strengthened when Bis jumped to my shoulder, his nails carefully spread to avoid digging into me or marring the beautiful fabric.

  Hodin cleared his throat, and Zack shied. “Perhaps the more important question is,” the demon drawled, “who are you?”

  “I’m Zack,” he said, his tone holding a little too much affront, as if we should know already and he was insulted. “Deual Sa’han, Zack Oborna.”

  “Deual Sa’han?” I questioned, never having heard the term.

  Bis leaned closer to my ear, whispering, “I think he’s the dewar’s leader-in-waiting.”

  “Oh,” I said flatly, and Zack flushed, his pride showing a hit.

  “That is your name,” Hodin said condescendingly. “Who are you?”

  Zack’s chin lifted. “I was Landon’s student,” he said, his anger sounding almost beautiful. “But not anymore. I left the dewar eight days ago. I’m no one now.”

  “And why, little elf, would you do that?” Hodin asked. He was standing unnervingly close to me, and I edged away.

  A flash of fear furrowed Zack’s smooth brow. “Because he’s lying to me,” he said, and my worry deepened when I saw the hurt of that betrayal. It went deep, deep enough to make him both trustworthy and unreliable. “He says he isn’t, but some of the things he says happened can’t logically have occurred.” Green eyes afraid, he looked at me. “But everything makes sense with what I’ve heard whispered in the halls about you. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to find the truth, first in the dewar, and then in the streets, but everyone has a different story. And I can’t get my magic to work right,” he said, his voice rising as he blinked fast and turned away.

  No elf can, I thought in pity, but seeing it in my eyes, he hid his fear and pulled himself upright. “I need to talk to Kalamack to see if he’s lying, too.”

  “He’s hungry,” Bis whispered, and I shoved my pity down.

  “You’re the next leader of the dewar,” Hodin said. “Go back. Believe what they say. It’s easier than the truth that you won’t like.”

  “Not anymore.” Zack’s jaw clenched, that same look of betrayal flashing. “I quit.”

  Yeah. Like Landon would have let him quit. But I wanted to believe him, and I edged closer. “You left the dewar? For good?” I asked, guessing he thought he was telling the truth by the amount of panic he tried to quash. “Why should I believe you? Landon has done everything but declare war on Kalamack’s house.” Yes, it sounded formal when I said it like that, but I felt formal, standing in this robe decorated in stars and tiny bells.

  “Landon doesn’t need me to kill Trent.” Zack brushed at his shirt, making it worse. “He has his baku for that. Why would he send me? I can’t even get my circle to hold,” he said bitterly.

  Landon is hosting the baku? I thought, excited. And then I dropped back a step, actually hearing what Zack had said. “But the baku isn’t trying to kill Trent. It’s trying to kill Al,” I said, and then my knees became wobbly as the events of the last few days replayed. Oh. God. All this time the baku had been coming for me, not Al.

  “It was trying to get you to kill Trent,” Bis said, pressing close to my neck, and I felt sick. Two birds with one stone. Trent would be dead and I’d be discredited and in prison for killing him. Everything would turn to Landon. Landon would win.

  “Just so,” Hodin whispered. I was the baku’s target. Me, not Al. Landon was trying to get me to kill Trent. Son of a bastard.

  “Don’t trust him, Rachel,” Hodin muttered. “He’s from the dewar. Young and easily moved to foolish endeavors that will get him killed.”

  “Why do you care what happens to me?” I said even as his warning rang true. “He knows about the baku and is willing to talk.” I turned to Zack, not comfortable with his sudden confidence. “Okay. I’m the target,” I said, doubly glad that my aura was again my own. “If Landon is the host, how does he control it?”

  Zack looked up from trying to scrape his dinner off his pants. “He doesn’t. Not really. His aura is all wonky, and sometimes I think it’s the baku, not him. Landon doesn’t want to believe it, but the baku is dragging its feet. Using him.”

  My hand touched Bis’s feet. He was scared, too. I swallowed hard, my gaze going to my candle, still on the slate table. I’d be safe until the baku figured out I’d switched my aura, but Al might be in more danger in the meantime. I’m never going to sleep again.

  “You’re right. Trent needs to talk to you,” I said, and Zack made an ecstatic fist-pumping gesture with a muffled “Yes!”

  “Rachel,” Hodin growled, but I had to move on this, and fast.

  “You’re not my teacher,” I said, and Hodin put a hand to his head as if he had a headache.

  “You’ll take me to him?” Zack pushed forward. “I have to ask him if what Landon says is true. I know I’ll be able to tell if he’s the Sa’han.”

  “And how will you know that?” Hodin pressed, his voice oily with promise.

  Zack brushed his shirt. “Landon says that Kalamack has murdered people to further his interests. That he puts himself before those he doesn’t care about. That he’s responsible for the rebirth of the demons, and that he has spurned a fertile elven woman of high standing for a barren demon with no worth, thereby thumbing his nose at the high elders. I need to know if it’s true.”

  Barren demon? But I was too worried to take offense. Besides, all of it was true. Even the ugly parts. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. “Ah, Trent is all of that,” I admitted. “But as long as I’m with him, the circle he protects encloses more than himself, including elves and demons both.” I was spouting wise-old-man crap, but the robe seemed to bring it out of me.

  “He really cares about the demons? Not just you?” Zack said in disbelief.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” I said. Hodin bared his teeth in a thinly disguised smile, and Zack flushed. “I need to make a call,” I added, patting my robe to find my phone in my jeans pocket.

  “You need to make a call,” Hodin echoed, and then he pinched my elbow, dragging me away. Bis flew from my shoulder, and then I jerked from Hodin’s grip.

  “I’m sorry about your dinner,” Bis said, startling Zack when he landed beside him on the table saw. “I wouldn’t have really hit you. Unless you tried to hurt Rachel.”

  “I’ve never talked to a gargoyle before.” Zack’s voice h
eld awe, and Bis puffed in pride. “How can you stay awake? It’s day.”

  “Rachel gave me an amulet,” Bis said, showing it off, and then Hodin shifted to get between us.

  “I’m all for letting people make their own mistakes,” Hodin said, so close that I could smell the hint of burnt amber. “But that child has grown up in the dewar listening to old-elf lies. Get past the pretty hair and eyes, and all his thoughts are warped.”

  “Probably, but he can’t be cooked all the way through yet. Excuse me,” I said, finally finding my phone through the draping fabric. “I need to make a call.”

  Hodin’s expression darkened. “This is a mistake,” he muttered, arms going over his chest.

  “Probably.” I backed up a step and hit the icon for Trent. The call rang twice before it was answered, and my shoulders slumped when Trent’s voice eased out.

  “Rachel, how did the lesson go?” he said, his preoccupied tone and the slight clatter telling me he was in the kitchen. “Can you line jump?”

  My thoughts jerked back to Hodin, and I flushed in excitement. “It went great, and yes,” I said, answering him, “Bis and I haven’t tried it yet, but I don’t see why it won’t work. Hey, that young elf I told you about—”

  “Landon’s protégé,” he said, surprising me. “Zack, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” I turned to the front of the church, frowning as Bis demonstrated to Zack how big a gargoyle could get with enough water and proper motivation. He was already the size of a large dog, and as I watched, he puffed out again. But my impulse to tell him no spitting in the sanctuary faded when I saw him hit the five-gallon bucket in the corner with uncanny precision. “Ah, I’m looking at him right now. He wants to meet you. He’s noticed some discrepancies in Landon’s version of the truth.”

  “No kidding.”

  “And he wants to know how big a bastard you really are,” I added softly.

  “Bastard?” Trent echoed, and I smiled, hearing him begin to pay attention.

  “Seeing as you save demon babies and generally disobey the dewar.” I couldn’t bring up Ellasbeth and the girls and how I was preventing Trent from reaching his potential. Not to mention the general bastardly behavior of Trent before I’d smacked him around enough.

  He was silent, probably remembering stuff I didn’t even know about. “It’s like bringing a pit viper into your living room,” he finally said, and I heard water running in the background.

  “I know, but he can help with the baku. Zack says Landon is hosting it, which makes complete sense, seeing as, ah . . . Al isn’t his target. I am.” I took a breath. “To kill you,” I whispered, sure he’d heard me when he said nothing. My nightmare swirled up from the folds of my brain, chilling me. I’d woken when I tapped a line, but what if I hadn’t? What if it happened again?

  “I’ll meet with him,” Trent said, voice cold.

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Is now a good time?”

  “Sure,” he said immediately. “I’ll see you in half an hour. I’ll tell the gate to expect you.”

  I took a breath to tell him I’d see him in thirty seconds if Hodin would spot me, but he was gone and I closed down my phone, tucking it away in a pocket before gathering my candle and heading back to them. Bis saw me coming and spit out all his excess water, shrinking down to the size of a cat in three seconds flat and shaking as if warding off a chill.

  Even worried as I was, I couldn’t help a tingle of anticipation. I was going to jump the lines. “Okay,” I said as Zack eyed me in mistrust, Bis next to him on the table saw. They’d bonded over Bis spitting thirty feet into a bucket, and I’d become the outsider. “Zack, you have ten minutes to convince Trent that you’re not a lying bag of dewar hot air, and if I think for one second you want to hurt Trent, I’ll dump you in Landon’s office.”

  “I’m not going back to Landon,” Zack said, but his relieved expression quickly shifted to a nervous fidget. “Ah, mind if I use your bathroom to clean up first?” He plucked at his shirt, brushing at the tomato paste stain.

  “I do not have time for this,” Hodin complained, and then Zack yelped, startled when Hodin jerked him closer and smacked his chest. “Stand up straight. Comb your hair. Must look nice for your lynching.”

  My lips parted. I’d heard those same words from Al at least a handful of times before.

  “Back off!” Zack shouted, flushing as he pushed away from Hodin, but his anger vanished when he realized that somewhere between the smacking and the tirade, Hodin had used a brush-and-wash curse on him, and though he still looked hungry, Zack was clean, all signs of having been in the crawl space erased, down to the cobwebs in his light hair and the wrinkles in his cotton shirt.

  “Softy,” I muttered, and Hodin grimaced. “Relax,” I said louder to Zack. “It means the demon likes you.” Heart pounding, I extended a hand to Bis, and the gargoyle sidestepped from the table saw to my shoulder.

  “Well?” I said in expectation, and we stared at Hodin, Bis’s tail tightly wrapped around my arm. “You dragged me here. You have some responsibility to get me back. Either you throw us all there, or spot me. You might want to scare Zack into keeping his mouth shut before we go, though. I’m not responsible for anything he says.”

  Hodin’s eyes narrowed, but when Bis began an odd, angry whine, the demon relented. “Fine. If only to see if you can manage it, I will spot your jump.” He eyed Bis. “You can handle her if she gets it wrong?” he asked, and Bis nodded.

  “She won’t get it wrong,” Bis said, tail tightening on me, and I felt a flush of gratitude.

  “Jump?” Zack squeaked, his face pale as he backed up. “Like through the ley lines?”

  Hodin’s smile would’ve scared Buddha, it was so evil. “If you breathe a word about me, I will pull your insides out through your eye sockets. Quiver in fear if you understand me.”

  “Ah . . .” Zack continued backing away.

  Excitement tingled through me, but maybe it was just the singing of the lines leaking past the barrier in my thoughts. I squared my shoulders, satisfied that Zack wouldn’t run and Hodin wouldn’t really hurt him. “Ready, Bis?” I said, and when his grip on my shoulder tightened, I exhaled, willing myself into the nearest ley line.

  It was almost absurdly easy, and a thrill spilled through both of us as Bis tweaked my memory of the line and I adjusted my aura to match it more deeply. The faint whine of discord vanished to be replaced by the warm swirl of everything. It was like being energy itself, and I set my thoughts on Trent.

  More of this, Bis nudged into my thoughts, and with a chime that rang through me like sunshine, I felt my aura expression shift. It wasn’t the deeper soul adjustment that Hodin had done, but a surface expression to make my outer aura mimic Trent’s. It would draw me to him, and it was far more complex a pattern than the one needed to be pulled into a line.

  I’d never be able to do this on my own, which was probably why the demons had engineered the gargoyles in the first place. Thank you, Bis, I thought, feeling a proud, rock-grinding chuckle in return.

  And then we were there, or here, and my feet stood on the tile of the small dining area between the kitchen and Trent’s living room.

  Trent was in the kitchen, a smudge of flour on his apron with the tractors on it that I’d given him as a joke. The scent of chocolate was heavy in the air. He made brownies? I thought, and then he looked up, his expression brightening with love. My heart clenched. “You jumped!” he said, gaze going from my new spelling robe to Zack, popping in to hit the floor at my feet. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

  I nodded, suddenly self-conscious about the fancy robe. “Zack, you okay?” I said, ducking when Bis launched himself to that plate of cooling brownies. “Stand up so you can meet Trent.”

  But when I reached to help him, Zack gasped, backing away to almost scoot himself down the stairs in fe
ar. “Zack?” I said, and then I spun to Trent at his cry of heartache and fear.

  “What?” I said as I saw Bis beside Trent, both staring at me in horror.

  “Mystics,” Bis whispered, and I felt myself pale. “They recognized you, Rachel.”

  CHAPTER

  17

  Trent sprang into movement, but I was scared. “No, no, no!” I exclaimed as my fingers began to tingle and a whisper of a presence grew in my mind. “Not again. I can’t do this again!”

  “Sit.” Trent yanked Zack up from the stairwell before he fell down it, almost shoving the kid onto the couch in the lowered pit of the living room. “Rachel, call that demon!”

  The ring. My hand shook, tiny bells ringing as I looked at it, and then I panicked as I saw the haze of silver dripping from my fingertips. There were so many mystics that I could see them. Enough had recognized me as I traveled the lines, and I had landed in Trent’s living room trailing a living magic. Worse, they were probably spreading the news, gathering more, telling them they had found the next “becoming.” If I couldn’t stop this, the Goddess would track me down and kill me, because if she didn’t, the mystics looking to me would spread through her like a virus, killing her. The Goddess might be all-powerful, but her mystics were the strength behind the throne, and what they wanted, they got. Not me. Not me . . .

  “Rachel, call him!” Trent shouted, and I spun the ring on my finger.

  Hodin! I shouted into my thoughts. I am covered in mystics! Fix this!

  But he didn’t answer. Terrified, I stared at Trent, a muffled curse slipping from him when he tried to touch my shoulder and jerked his hand back. His hair was beginning to float as more mystics gathered. I could feel him shunting the extra energy back to the line, but the mystics only came back with more. Line energy was filling the room with nowhere to go.

  Zack stared from the couch as large oily tears spilled from Bis. Trent, though, wasn’t panicking, and I tried to stifle my own fear. They weren’t talking to me yet. I was still sane. Hodin! I shouted in my mind, spinning the ring again. And still he didn’t show. Now, Hodin! I shouted into my thoughts. Or the deal is off and I tell everyone about you!