Ravenous

'You wanted to secure her aid. In fact, I seem to remember you recommending seduction.'

She bent her head and kissed his palm. Her lips were soft, the dart of her tongue warm and wet as blood. 'I'll hate you later, once I know that Geneva is gone, and that we'll all live long enough to make hating worthwhile. Maybe you'll convince me to love you again.'

'You know that I will always serve you.' In all ways except one.

'Good boy.' She gave a slow smile. 'In the meantime, find out what the little witch wanted. We need her.'

The little witch wanted to kill—perhaps herself, perhaps Alessandro. Definitely whoever had answered the phone.

It might mean nothing. Be mature.

Oh, like hell. He left me without a word and wound up in bed with someone else. Someone he could bite. Someone who would willingly give him what he needed.

What did you expect? She had practically begged Alessandro to let them be together just that once. He'd kept his part of the bargain, and he'd done so without harming her. What more could she ask? In the meantime she had a life to save: hers. That had to take top priority, even if she was breaking to pieces with loss.

Furious, Holly rummaged through the living room, pulling reference books off the shelves. One by one, she read the chapter titles and tossed them aside. Grandma had loaned her a couple of books on demonology, but she knew there were others in the house. However, she couldn't find any of the volumes she remembered. She'd gone through her collection before, right after her visit from Sweetie, with equally disappointing results.

Before that, the last time she'd looked for them was… well, she never had. They were there when she was a kid, old and musty and full of woodcuts of ugly demon faces. All her life they had been part of her landscape. Now they were gone. She stormed into the den to repeat the shelf-tossing process. Kibs scampered out of her way, wriggling to safety under the couch.

She gave up. She'd already phoned Grandma, but Grandma was out, probably taking a break from demon lore.

She left a message. Crap. She couldn't sit still. What else could she try? Then a random memory bobbed to the surface.

Alessandro had said Perry Baker was a competent sorcerer. It was a long shot, but he might know something about antidemon first aid, or know someone local who did. She dug out his office number and dialed. It wasn't during his office hours, but it was worth a try.

'Perry Baker.' His voice had the distant quality of someone on a speakerphone. She could hear the tapping of a keyboard. Multitasking.

'It's Holly Carver. Do you know much about demons?'

There was a static-filled pause as he picked up the handset. 'Come again?'

'I'm in your Monday-night class.'

'I know, I know.' She heard the rush of his breath against the mouthpiece. 'About the demons?'

'Soul suckers. I need info. Fast. I had one over for lunch. He tried to make me an after-dinner mint.'

'No shit?' Papers rattled, the sound of hasty shuffling. 'Okay, urn, are you able to come down to my office?'

'Sure. When?'

'Now. Right away. I'll wait. Just get here.'

Perry Baker's office was upstairs in the same building where he taught. It was easy to find. It was the only door that campus security had stenciled with a warning sign emblazoned with a wolf. The door was ajar.

Perry sat at a desk heaped with papers, his face lit by a monitor screen. Food cartons from Wily Wolf Specialty Deli filled the garbage can, while a dozen high-caffeine pop cans lined the windowsill in a carefully constructed tower. A bright yellow pennant was thumbtacked to the wall behind him, cheerfully proclaiming Fairview University and Community College's alternative slogan, 'FUCC U!'

'Hey,' Perry said, standing. 'I'm glad you were able to come so fast.'

'Thanks for seeing me.'

With a wave of his hand he directed her to a ratty visitor's chair. 'Sorry,' he said. 'First-time profs get all the hand-me-downs.'

Holly sat, feeling the chair sag under her. The tiny office was hot from the numerous CPUs in operation, and she began to unzip her coat. Relief at finally having someone to talk to warred with a general sense of confusion. 'I'm not sure where to begin. There's so much going on, and what happened this afternoon is just part of it.'

Perry sat and leaned forward on the desk, playing with a pen. His bare forearms were corded with muscle —lean, not skinny. He studied her, his dark blue eyes serious behind his glasses. 'My dad's, um, pack leader. I've probably heard part of this already.'

Holly fumbled for a thought, any coherent idea to launch with. 'I have this cop friend. I think he infected me with demon cooties.'

Perry set the pen down. 'Yeah? How did that happen?'

'I think the changelings called up a demon.'

Perry sat forward again. 'They did it?'

'In the graveyard. I went there today and found the remains of a ritual.' Holly fished in her coat pocket. 'I found this.'

She put the metal object she'd found on the desk. Perry picked it up. 'Wow. I've never seen a real one of these. It's an Orpheus token.'

'What's it for?'

'The tokens are a vampire thing, but the myth is universal. My people revere Orpheus for his power to calm the wild beasts. There's an obvious appeal there for werebeasts.' He met her eyes for a moment, as if monitoring her reaction. 'Vampires focus on the other part of his story. Orpheus brought the shade of his wife, Eurydice, out of the halls of death. They believe true love can free a vampire from the need to live on blood. They call it the myth of the Chosen. Some believe they can even have children.'

Holly's skin tingled. She knew stranger things were possible. I love him, but he left my bed for someone else. That's not true love.

Perry went on. 'As for these tokens, vampires sometimes leave them with their kills. It's a good-luck charm to guide the soul of their victim into death. Belonged to one of the changelings, maybe?'

'Lovely. I wonder if the tokens were part of the ritual because they represented a body count.'

'Maybe. I've heard rumors that the police found these with the dead women on campus.'

Holly thought of the night she had gone over all this with Alessandro and Mac—the night Mac had fallen ill. 'Blood is sometimes used as part of a summoning.'

'Tricky stuff. I wouldn't think anyone but a trained sorcerer could pull it off. You'd need a proper spell.'

She remembered the figure with the book. Then she remembered that Perry was a sorcerer himself. Did I come to exactly the wrong person? Fear crawled over her arms. 'Someone helped them. Who likes the changelings or hates the vampires enough to do that?'

Perry watched her, as if he could sense her anxiety. 'Nobody likes changelings.'

'Then who hates vampires enough to call up a demon?'

Perry sighed. 'The only people I can think of are all human. No one else would be that stupid. Demons… you just don't mess with them.'

'Macmillan?' Holly said aloud, but even as she spoke, another dreadful idea was forming. One she wasn't ready to accept.

'Who's Macmillan?'

'The cop with the demon cooties.'

Perry frowned. 'What about those cooties? What exactly happened? You don't catch demon germs from casual contact, you know.'

Holly hesitated, realizing she'd been talking around the problem out of fear. 'Mac kissed me. I think he's