Two men, struggling. The punches rained between them with unskilled ferocity. One would stagger back and attempt to invoke a spell, only to be interrupted by the other in a desperate charge. Both their faces were bloody, broken noses, split lips. The room reflected the same destruction. Books were strewn about, pages torn loose, spines snapped. Crockery lay in shards, and one chair had been smashed flat, the legs surrounding it like a denuded daisy in the throes of He Loves Me Not.
Bright blue energy streamed from Booke’s fingertips, but before he could complete the incantation, Donal slammed him headfirst into a wall. Which was when Booke lost the fight. I could see he was wandering in and out of consciousness, groggy as hell. Still, he lashed out with a final blow—and that was the one that knocked the tooth from Donal’s mouth.
The vision dumped me on Booke’s kitchen floor. Well, that was new. I didn’t remember ever moving this way before, but I had been in the chair, and now I was on all fours, panting through my open mouth. And I had a new scar on my palm, the final evidence that I’d lost my mother’s magick in Sheol. Her abilities made the touch easier, somewhat less damaging, but that benefit was gone now.
Booke knelt beside me, looking fearful, concerned. “Is it always like that?”
I mustered a half smile. “Sometimes it’s worse.”
“That’s rather awful.” He stroked my hair gently, a paternal gesture.
“Trust me, I know.”
“Did you learn anything useful?” He couldn’t help the hopeful rise in tone. It was human nature to look for the way out, even after you accepted you were fully painted into a corner.
“If I still had my mother’s magick, I could use the tooth and my witch sight to unravel the spell. But since that’s not an option, I need to think about it.”
There might be no way out of this for Booke, apart from my summoning Dumah. And if that was the case, I’d bite the bullet for him. She could devour the spell—maybe—in lieu of our souls and should count it a worthy snack. I just hoped she didn’t want additional payment, as I had shit for collateral these days. Demons didn’t care for cash.
He helped me back into the chair, where we finished our lunch. Shannon joined us a few moments later, looking measurably happier.
“You got in touch with Jesse?” I asked.
“Yep. He’s not thrilled, but I told him we’d be home in a week or two. That’s probable, right?”
“I can’t imagine it would take that long,” Booke said.
The words sent a pang of grief through me.
“You look like you just had an epiphany,” Shan observed.
“Maybe.” My tone was cautious. I needed to consider the ramifications.
An out-of-the-blue summons might get Kel in trouble with his archangel, but the alternative was dealing with a demon. Hm. He’d helped me a great deal, saving my life in the process, and there was definitely a bond between us. I didn’t think he’d mind helping me, if he wasn’t in the middle of some time-sensitive mission. Trouble was, I had no way to verify his status.
“I trust you’ll advise us of your plan before you implement it,” Booke said drily. “In case it is necessary to duck or take cover.”
“Hey, my plans seldom blow up in my face.”
“Seldom?” Shan eyed me.
I pushed out a sigh. “Yes, I’ll let you know when I decide whether I’m taking the high or low road. I can’t do this on my own, Booke, so it’s going to require outsourcing. But I have some options.”
He nodded. “You’ve no idea how grateful I am. I thought . . .” Booke trailed off, unable to articulate his fear.
Every time I ran the odds in my head, success resulted in the loss of a friend.
No More Demons
Have you ever tried dealing with a dog’s bathroom needs when the outdoors isn’t really the outdoors? Butch showed a marked reluctance to venture into that gray mist, even provided we could get out the front door—and we couldn’t. Which left me holding him above the commode, trying to convince him this was a good plan.
To my surprise, he managed the job when I set him on the toilet seat. Then he cocked his head at me, as if to say,
“What do you think we should do?” I asked, as I washed my hands.
He trotted off, and I followed him because he’d never steered me wrong. Oddly, the genius dog was the most normal part of my life. Ironic, when I desperately craved a white-picket-fence scenario; it didn’t look like that was in the cards for me.
Butch met me in the hall, my bag clenched between his teeth. Since it was almost as heavy as he was, he was towing it with adorable Chihuahua grunts. I knelt to get out the Scrabble tiles, as I suspected that was what he wanted. Sure enough, as soon as I scattered them on the wood floor, he went to work with his little paws. When it came, his advice was succinct.
“You’re probably right,” I said.
But that left only Kel as an option for breaking the spell. No matter how much information I found in Booke’s library, it was useless to me. I’d had the shortest career imaginable as a witch. Still, I spent another hour among the books, looking for a way that would permit me to solve the problem. Unfortunately, I only had the touch.
By dinnertime, I had given up. As Shannon and Booke put together a meal, I withdrew to the privacy of the guest bedroom we’d shared the night before. Butch slipped in behind me, but since he wasn’t whining, I couldn’t be in mortal danger. I’d take that as an indication that I had made a good choice.
Mentally, I braced myself. The last time I’d seen Kel, who initially scared the hell out of me, because I thought he was a murderer, he had been kissing me good-bye. Obviously, things had changed between us during our time together in Peru. But however sweet and tender those moments, I’d known from the beginning that he wasn’t a viable option for a happily ever after. Most notably because he was Nephilim—half angel—and bound to serve. Unlike humans, he lacked free will.
It felt a little wrong to summon him to do my bidding, but I told myself it wasn’t for me.
And nothing happened.
The last time I called him, I’d pulled him out of Sheol itself, a feat that boggled the mind, now that I’d actually been there.
Confused and disappointed, I opened the bedroom door, Butch trotting at my heels. After setting out a dish of food for the dog, I ate in silence along with Shannon and Booke. At least the food stayed down, as had lunch. They could tell I wasn’t in the mood to chat, so they kept the conversation alive on their own. Shannon asked a lot
