Ravenous

kill. We all have flaws. In defiance, she dressed in a skintight scarlet sweater that used to drive Ben wild.

Used to. She repeated it several times, trying to get accustomed to the past tense.

Reality waited outside the bedroom door, but it was kinder than she expected. The smell of fresh coffee, warm and bittersweet, hung in the air. Coffee? Is Alessandro still here?

'Hello?' Holly called as she walked into the kitchen.

Curled up by his food dish like a fat, tabby basketball, Kibs meowed a greeting. There were still scraps of food in the bowl, a telltale sign that he had conned breakfast out of Alessandro. She looked around. The coffeemaker hissed as condensing steam dripped onto the hot plate. The sound was as comforting as lambskin slippers, but she was clearly alone.

Of course. It was daylight. Vampires were tucked safely in their beds. She got a mug from the cupboard and poured a hit of caffeine. A note was propped against the toaster. Steam rose from the mug, ghosting before the slanting letters.

6:30 a.m. All clear, quiet night,

I will call you at dusk. Stay safe.

Alessandro had stayed until nearly dawn. As he had promised, he'd watched over her through the night. A twinge grew in Holly's chest, a mixture of gratitude and sadness. He deserved more than she could ever give him. Holly set the note down slowly.

Stay safe. How was she going to swing that?

Picking up the cordless phone, Holly grabbed a coat and took her coffee onto the back deck. She stood awhile, leaning on the wide railing and feeling the comforting presence of the house and yard.

Spiderwebs shone like a scatter of silver thread. Still rolling in from the sea, the fog hid the fence, blurring the pine trees with smudges of gray. Marigolds burned like sudden fires. Familiarity didn't make the scene any less beautiful. It was part of her, where she drew her strength. She could never give up her house. Never, ever.

Holly propped her chin in her hand. Kibs came out and leaped onto the deck railing, curling up near her elbow. Fuzzy comfort. She sipped the coffee, holding it on her tongue a moment before swallowing. It tasted stale from sitting too long, but Alessandro had made it strong, the way she liked it.

Stay safe. Good advice, if a little short on detail. Ultimately she had to take responsibility for her own safety. Alessandro could do only so much. Besides, Holly had her own weapon—magic. Pain or no pain, it was up to her to take care of business. No excuses.

However, self-reliance did not exclude asking for advice from someone who'd bagged her share of monsters. She thumbed one of the speed dials on the phone.

'Hey, Grandma,' she said.

'Holly, is that you?' Grandma's voice was rough with decades of chain smoking, a vice she saw no point in giving up at this late date. After two hip replacements, she wasn't going to be running any marathons, anyway.

'Yeah, it's me. I need your sage advice. Can I bribe you with a treat from the Harvest Sheaf?'

'Maybe. What's the problem?'

'Demons. I need to spruce up the house's defenses. A lot.'

'How much is a lot?' Suspicion and alarm crackled out of the receiver.

Holly gripped her cup. 'Mega a lot. I need to work some serious protection spells.'

'What happened?'

'It's too long to explain over the phone. Can I come over?'

There was a long pause. 'Like that, eh? Bring cinnamon rolls.' Holly heard the flick of Grandma's lighter and a quick breath as she lit another cigarette. 'Double frosting. Wisdom of the ancients doesn't come cheap.'

For a supervised care facility, the Golden Swans was nice, and Grandma liked having her own space. She had lived in the Carver house while Holly grew up, and that was long enough for both of them. Grandma deplored Holly's lackadaisical housekeeping, and Holly hated her grandmother's smoking.

Holly took the elevator to the east tower, where the semi-independent-living apartments were grouped around the common rooms. When she got to Grandma's door, she picked up the daily paper where it had been left outside, bundled with an elastic band.

'Grandma?' She opened the door and poked her head in. 'Hello?' Her eyes scanned the pin-neat interior.

'Come on in.'

Holly entered, blinking a little from the cigarette fog. Grandma was in the kitchen, carefully spooning loose tea into a teapot. Her hair was pulled back in a long gray ponytail, showing off the strong bones of her face. Once plump, she had thinned down to a healthy weight but still gave the impression of solidity. She was dressed in a blue fleece ensemble with a sparkly gargoyle across the front.

Holly kissed her cheek. 'Hey, there, Grandma.'

'Demon trouble, eh?' she asked, eyeing the cinnamon buns as Holly set them out on plates.

'It followed me home, but I don't want to keep it.'

The kettle clicked off. Holly poured boiling water into the teapot and carried it to the table. She filled Grandma in on the events of the last few days, ending with the mouse. 'Why is there suddenly so much demon activity in Fairview?'

Grandma sat, hooking her canes, one to each side, on the tabletop. 'Why not? Demons are all about manifesting on the earthly plane. For them, Earth is like Vegas, all entertainment, food, and fun. Fortunately, most of the time they can't get here. The demon realm is a prison, after all.'

'A prison? I always thought of it as the demon home-world. Y'know. Hell.'

'No, this isn't a place for mortal souls. No fiery pits. Look in the front of Anderson's Realms, on the top left-hand shelf of the bookcase behind you.'

Holly turned, pulling out an oversized red volume that looked about a century old. This wasn't one of the books Holly had read. Of course, she'd never read even half the demon lore in her parents' library—apparently she needed to get right on that. 'What am I looking for?'

'Look at the picture facing the title page.'

Holly opened the cover, then lifted the thin sheet of onionskin covering the first illustration. It was a black- and-white etching, a snarl of shadows and torchlight and stone walls melting into a maze of tunnels. She could almost feel the cold, damp drafts rising off the page.

'Who knows how accurate that drawing is, but it fits every description given of the place. It's like a prison. A big dungeon. Some people call it the Castle.' Grandma shrugged. 'Not a very original name, but it was built long ago.'

'By whom?'

'Human sorcerers.'

Holly carefully turned the page. 'Is there a picture of the outside?'

'There is no outside. The entire world is inside those halls.'

Holly turned back to the illustration. It was like Escher meets Dracula. 'Could use some throw cushions.'

Grandma smiled, but her eyes were serious. 'Demons come from our world originally. The prison was a means of banishing them. They can't get back here unless someone summons them.'

'So every time a demon shows up, there's been a prison break?'

'Yup.'

Holly took a large gulp of tea, trying to wrap her head around the idea of an entire prison dimension crammed with demons. A flippant corner of her brain thought of high school.

Grandma went on. 'As to why this specific demon was summoned, we can't begin to answer that without a lot more information.'

'Then let's cut to the chase. How do we send it back to the slammer?'