The Outlaw Demon Wails (16 page)

The air pressure shifted and I turned, but my welcoming professional smile froze as I realized I hadn't heard the back door click open.

“Shit,” I breathed, tensing as I realized why.

I'd stepped off hallowed ground.

Al was here.

“Jenks!” I shouted, stumbling backward.

I prayed Al would start talking, but his elegant, chiseled features twisted in anger, and he leapt at me, white-gloved hands reaching.

I fell back against the sink. Arms braced, I swung both feet up to hit him square in the chest. Oh, God. I was dead. He wasn't gloating. He wanted to freaking kill me. If I was dead, no one would know he broke his word. Not only was Ceri an idiot for making charms for him, she was wrong, too.

Panic took me when my feet went right through him. Gasping, I fell, sliding down the face of the cupboards to land on my butt. My gaze went to my spell books.
Minias.
My new calling circle was under the counter with my books. I had to get to it.

I scrambled forward. Pain made me slow, and as adrenaline pulsed through me, Al's thick, gloved hand grabbed me by the throat and hauled me up. I choked, ugly sounds making it past my lips. My eyes bulged, and my body went flaccid. He shook me, and the scent of amber rolled over me. “You are a really—
stupid
—witch,” he said, giving me another shake with his accented word. “Sometimes, I wonder how you expected your
genes to get to the next generation.” He smiled, and fear wrapped around my heart as I gazed into his red, goat-slitted eyes and saw his anger. He had nothing to lose. Nothing.

Panicking, I struggled. He couldn't go misty to avoid my strikes and still hold on to me. I had a chance. Al grunted when I scored on his shin, and he let go.

I took a gasping breath of air. My feet hit the floor. Knees crumpling, I screamed when I was jerked back upright by my hair. “I'm going to freaking kill you, Al, if you don't get the hell out of my kitchen!” I vowed, not knowing where the threat was coming from, but I was pissed. Scared. Absolutely terrified.

A velveteen arm went around my neck. A cry slipped from me when his grip on my hair tightened, pulling my head up so I looked at the ceiling. Pain struck through my neck and scalp. I reached backward, and he grunted when I got a fistful of his hair. But he wouldn't let go. Even when I yanked it out by the roots and sent my hands scrabbling back for more.

“Stop it,” he said grimly, jerking me into motion. “We have an appointment.”

“The hell we do,” I panted, finding an ear and digging my nails in.
Where is Jenks?

Al grunted, tightening his grip until I let go. I wasn't dead.
I wasn't dead.
He wanted me alive. For the moment.
For an appointment?

“You are going to clear my name,” he snarled, bending to mouth my ear as if to bite it off. I fought him until he pulled my hair so hard that tears started. I could smell blood, but I didn't think it was mine. I thought I'd broken his nose when I had flung my head back. I tried to shove against the counter, and Al dragged me away.

“I asked you nicely, but like the spoiled brat you are, you refused,” he said. “I don't mind doing it the hard way. You are going to testify to the courts that Ceridwen Merriam Dulciate is limited to teaching one child how to spindle line energy. That the damage is contained. I won't do time for an ex-familiar who would be dead but for you.”

My breath seemed to freeze in me. Testify? He meant in the ever-after.
He expected me to stand in a demon court? “Why should I trust you?” I panted, fingertips squeaking as he pulled my grip off the counter again.

“It might make things easier,” he suggested, sounding almost bitter that I didn't.

Easier?
I thought.
It might also make me dead.
I struggled, my slippers sliding on the linoleum as he yanked me backward to the hall. My pulse leapt when the back door opened and the skittering of cat claws rasped. I tried to see, but it was hard with Al's arm around my neck.

“'Bout time, Jenks!” I exclaimed. “What were you doing? Showing him your stump?”

My bravado died at the snarl that rumbled slowly to life and vibrated to my very nerve endings, reaching deep into my psyche and clenching around my primitive brain to reduce me to fight or flight. Cormel? That ugly sound was coming from him?

“Holy shit!” Jenks shrilled, and Al's grip on my hair loosened.

Taking a gasp of air, I twisted, falling away and smacking the flat of my foot square across the demon's right cheek. Al rocked back, his eyes never leaving Rynn Cormel, who was standing in the threshold to my kitchen.

“Get back!” I shouted at the vampire, but he never even looked at me. Al, too, was a hunched shadow ignoring me. Mostly.

“Rynn Matthew Cormel,” the demon drawled, a brief shimmer of ever-after cascading over him to leave his nose unbloodied and whole as he straightened. “What brings you slumming here?”

The elegant vampire loosened his coat. “You, in a roundabout way.”

I flicked my gaze between them and felt my neck for the new bruise that was bound to show up. Jenks hovered beside me, spilling red dust that puddled on the floor.

“I'm honored,” Al said, tension in his voice and posture.

“You're dead,” Cormel said. “Morgan is mine. You will not touch her.”

Oh, that's nice. Maybe.

Al laughed. “As if you have a say in the matter.”

That was even freaking better. My breath came in sharply and I scrambled back when Cormel jumped at Al, arms reaching and an ugly
sound erupting from him. A muffled curse slipped from me, and my back hit the fridge. I watched, shocked, as the two grappled, both moving incredibly fast. Al blurred in and out of existence, making the vampire look like he was trying to catch moving sand. I couldn't take my eyes away, and my pulse hammered. If Al won, I was going to be bail money. If Rynn Cormel won, I was going to have to deal with a master vampire hyped up on fear and anger who thought I was his.

“Look out!” I cried when Al got a grip on him, but the vampire twisted with an inhuman bonelessness, dislocating his own shoulder to fix his teeth on Al's neck.

Al screamed and went misty, re-forming to push Rynn backward into the sink. Mr. Fish's bowl teetered, and when the vampire launched himself at Al, his fangs sheened with blood, I darted to rescue the Betta.

Water sloshed as I retreated. Not looking at what I was doing, I shoved the fish onto the back of the counter. My gaze went to the books hiding my scrying mirror. Minias. I could call Minias.
Yeah, one more demon ought to make this farce complete.

Al hit the wall beside Ivy's computer, and the lights flickered. Gathering my courage, I darted forward, fingers slipping on the cold glass as I found the mirror.

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” I whispered, not remembering the word to invoke the charm.

“Rachel!” Jenks cried.

They were coming right at me. Eyes widening, I curled my body over the mirror and dove out of the way. Al and Cormel crashed into the fridge. The clock above the sink fell, shattering to send the battery rolling into the hall.

Al had Cormel's face in his hands and was squeezing with a supernatural strength, but the vampire's teeth were red. I watched, unable to look away as Cormel reached up and dug his ugly fingers into Al's eyes.

Screaming, the demon flung himself back, but the vampire was after him. The two rolled on the floor, both struggling for control. They were going to freaking kill each other in my kitchen. And wouldn't Ivy be ticked at me for that?

“Jenks?” I said, seeing him hovering at the ceiling, just as captivated as I was.

His face was white, and his wings made a high-pitched whine. “I'll get them apart, you set the circle,” he said.

I nodded and shoved my sleeves up past my elbows. The simplest plans were the best.

My heart pounded and Jenks hovered over them. They had regained their feet, struggling like wrestlers, Al's green frock making an odd statement against Rynn's elegant business suit.

“Hey, demon-ass!” Jenks shouted, and Al looked up.

A burst of pixy dust sifted down. Al screamed and went misty. Rynn's hands scrabbled on air, and when Al re-formed, he was hunched over, still rubbing at his eyes.

“Damn you to hell, you burning firefly!” the demon shouted.

Rynn gathered himself, and I sprang into motion. “Get out of the circle!” I shouted, grabbing the vampire's arm and swinging him into Ivy's desk with a crash. The heavy table remained standing, but the faint scent of broken technology mixed with the acidic smell of burnt amber and the rich tang of angry vampire.

The former world leader snarled at me when he found his balance. My face went cold, and I wondered if I'd fare better in the circle with Al.

“Rache!” Jenks shouted, clearly annoyed, and I slapped my hand down on the salt circle.

“Rhombus,”
I said with relief, and the connection to the ley line out back formed with a satisfying speed. Quicker than thought, a sheet of ever-after rose from the circle I had already scribed on the floor, made strong by my will and the salt I'd used.

Rynn skidded to a halt as the circle formed, his long coat unfurling to brush the impenetrable barrier. On the other side, Al pulled himself upright, howling. “I'll tear you apart!” he screamed, his eyes still watering from Jenks's dust. “Morgan, I'll kill you myself! I will not…You can't do this to me! Not again! You are
just
a
stinking
little
witch
!”

I fell back to sit on my butt, carefully pulling my feet to me so I wouldn't accidentally touch the bubble and send it crashing down. “Tag,”
I breathed heavily, looking around my demolished kitchen. Mr. Fish was quivering, but at least the fish—and Jenks's pumpkin under the table—had survived.

My jaw clenched in fear when I found Rynn Cormel. The vampire was completely flaked out, his pupils wide and his movements sharper and brighter than broken glass. He stood in the corner as far away from me as he could get, and I knew from living with Ivy that he was working hard to get control of his instincts. He held his coat closed, and the hem quivered as he fought his need to leap at me.

“Morgan!” Al raged, and reaching up, he pulled on the rack hanging overhead. Wood splintered and split, and I scrambled up with a gasp when the ceiling cracked, but it was the rack that broke, and stuff went everywhere, rolling until it found the interior of my circle and stopped. But he was contained, and as Al threw a temper tantrum, I worried more about Rynn.

“Are you okay, sir?” I said meekly.

The vampire brought his head up, and fear slid anew around my skull. His presence was thick in the room, his scent filling me inside and out. A tingling had started at my old demon scar, and I saw him swallow.

“Um, I'm going to open a window,” I said, and when he nodded, I carefully got up.

Al threw himself at my circle, and I jumped, finding myself sweating when it held firm. “I'm going to kill you, witch,” the demon said, panting as he stood before me, the rack broken and scattered over the interior of the circle. “I'm going to kill you, then mend you. I'm going to drive you insane. I'm going to make you beg for your death. I'm going to defile you, cut you from the inside out, put things in you that crawl around and burn your skull—”

“Will you shut up!” I interrupted him, and he howled, his face going red.

“You,” I said to Rynn. “You just stay there, will you? I have to take care of this.”

I didn't trust his silent posture, but he hadn't ruled the free world by lacking control.

“Mo-o-o-orga-a-a-an,” Al crooned, and I turned from scooping up my scrying mirror.

My face lost its expression as I found him with one of my earth charm spell books. “Put that down,” I demanded.

His eyes narrowed. “I may not have a lifetime of curses stored in me anymore,” he said threateningly, “but I do know a few things by heart.”

“Stop it,” I said as he swiped an arm across the counter and everything went to the floor.

Jenks landed on my shoulder, sending the sharp scent of broken chlorophyll over me. “I don't like this, Rache,” he whispered.

“I said, stop!” I exclaimed as Al sketched a rude pentagram and put my book in it.

“Celero inanio,”
he said, and I jumped when my charm book burst into flames.

“Hey!” I shouted, suddenly pissed. “Knock it off!”

Al's goat-slitted eyes narrowed. With a stiff motion, he dropped another book in its place. The thump of it reverberated through me. His gaze behind the sheet of black-stained ever-after was heavy with new hatred. I had bested him again. Me. A “stinking little witch.”

I stared, thinking before I went with my first gut reaction of calling Minias. I could leave Al there to burn all my books, but with him in my circle, I'd know where he was and be safe that night. Or I could call Minias to drag Al's butt out of here and hope that no one summoned him again before the sun rose. But something in Al's angry expression made me pause.

Behind the fury, he was tired. He was tired of being hauled around and shoved into a little room. He was tired of trying for me and failing. And to have Minias know it, to be carted off under his leash…It was almost insulting. Maybe, if I gave Al a night of peace to lick his wounds and his pride, he would grant that same courtesy to me?

The moment hesitated. The kitchen was eerily silent without the noise from the clock, now broken on the floor. Al slowly straightened as he realized something was sifting through my brain, that I was considering just…letting him go. “Do you feel lucky, witch?” the demon growled,
his lips pulling back from his teeth as he smiled. It was a dangerous smile that went right to my core. But the thing was, even though he could kill me, I wasn't scared of him anymore. As he had said, I had circled the bastard one too many times. He was tired. And by that comment earlier, maybe a little hungry for trust.

Al's eyes slid to the scrying mirror in my hand, and his gaze went introspective as he saw me weighing my options. “One night's truce?” he said inquiringly.