She grinned at him over a mouthful of fries. “I wasn’t joking.”
“Byleth.”
“Leslie. You know what I don’t get,” she continued. “You drive a really cool car, you’ve got that high-priced sort of Goth meets ’N Sync look going, you’re neither boxers or briefs so what is it with you and God? It’s like, so geeky. You don’t really believe you have a personal relationship with the big kahuna, do you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She put down her burger and took a closer look. He really did. It was…unexpected. And disconcerting. Pushing her hair back off her face, she glared at him from under lowered brows. “In my experience, a so-called personal relationship with God mostly involves criticism of lifestyle choices.”
“Lifestyle choices?”
Her eyes went onyx. “I’m a demon.”
Leslie/Deter’s gaze skittered off hers, wandered the room for a moment, then slowly returned. His hands were trembling, but he swallowed and looked deep into the unrelieved black. “You don’t have to be,” he said.
And he believed that, too.
Byleth shoved her chair back hard enough to scrape the hard rubber legs across the tile floor with a noise that mixed fingernails on blackboards with the scream of a jammed fan belt. Half the people in the room winced, the rest put a hand to their better ear and shouted, “What?”
“Come on.” She snatched her diet cola up off the table. “This isn’t getting us any closer to Kingston.”
Claire began to get fidgety as the main street of Marmora disappeared behind them.
“Are you all right?” Dean asked, reaching out to capture her hand.
“I don’t know. Something’s nagging.”
He eased off on the gas. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Oh, sure,” Austin muttered, stepping indignantly across her lap, “but when the cat has to pee, there’s no sympathy.”
“It’s not my bladder, Austin, it’s the Summons.”
“I knew that.”
“Of course you did.” Pulling free from Dean’s grip, she stroked her fingers along the brilliant white expanse of stomach fur, the familiar motion and answering purr smoothing out her agitation.
“Claire?”
“Right, the Summons. We need to turn south. Now.”
Dean looked past her to the snow-covered fields and copses of naked trees passing on the south side of the highway. “Now?”
“Not exactly now. But as soon as you can.” Claire drew the Ontario Map Book out of the glove compartment, found highway seven, followed it to Marmora and beyond. “There.” Her fingernail tapped an intersection of two red lines. “Turn off on number 62 to Belleville.”
“That where we’re headed?”
“No, we have to go farther east, but that’s where we’ll pick up the 401.”
“What’s east of Belleville?”
Claire ran her finger along the double line. “There’s Napanee,” she told them, continuing to check the route, “but I don’t think that’s the…”
“Place?” Austin prodded rolling up onto his feet. Head to one side, he looked from Keeper to map and then followed a thin line of gray up to where it spread out against and disappeared against the gray upholstery on the inside of the roof. “What’s that smoking under your finger?”
“Kingston.” She closed the book with a snap.
“Kingston?” Dean repeated.
Claire met his eyes and nodded.
Austin sat down again. “At the risk of sounding clichéd, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“You know what I love about trains? When they stop between stations for stupid reasons, you can’t get off.”
Curled up in the depths of the open backpack, Samuel yawned. “Why would you love that about trains?”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I knew that.”
“Sure you did.” Diana glared out the window at the cars moving by on the highway, one empty, snow-covered field away—her left foot tapping against the floor, right fingers splayed out on the window. “I could have walked over there and got another ride by now, but, oh, no, that’d be against the rules. If I’d been Summoned to Kingston, I could fix whatever the stupid problem is, but only attempting to prevent a gross injustice isn’t reason enough. This is so lame.”
“It’s important you follow the rules.”
She snorted. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear a cat say.”
“I meant you specifically.”
“Oh, ha! I guess angels don’t mind wasting time, the time we could be using to get there first and set a trap.” Her right foot took over the beat from her left. “This so totally sucks.” The weight of a Bystander’s regard pulled her head up. The blond young man she’d previously terrorized was standing in the aisle staring down at her. “What?”
“Are you talking to your backpack?” he asked, leaning forward.
Diana closed the flap on the top of the big pocket. “Are you operating on more than two brain cells?”
“I just thought you had a…” He dropped his voice below the level of the ambient noise. “…cat.”
“And what if I do?”
Glancing around, as though he were about to hand over state secrets, he shoved a piece of beef jerky toward her, managed half a smile, hurried away. Frowning, she reopened the pack and offered Samuel the jerky.
“Did you let him leave?” he demanded, hooking it out of her fingers.
“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone.”
“That’s not the point,” he protested. “The point is, there’s always more than one piece in a package of beef jerky.”
“Maybe I should just go offer myself to him to keep you from starving.” Before he could answer, the train lunged about five feet forward, then began picking up speed in a less vertebrae-separating manner. “Finally! If that demon’s raised Hell before we get there, I’m sending a nasty letter to the smoking ruins of the VIA Rail head office.”
“Oh, yeah, that’ll show them.”
“So is there some place you want me to drop you off or what?” Leslie/Deter asked, as the car squealed its way around the tight exit ramp at Division Street. “If you’re on your own, we have a mission in Kingston.”
“I so don’t care. Besides I know exactly where I’m going.”
“Might be nice if the driver knew.”
“Lower Union Street. Just off King.” Byleth wet her lips in anticipation. “Place called the Elysian Fields
