For a Few Demons More

Twenty-seven

'Damn it,' Trent swore softly, his eyes on Ceri as Quen halted.

The air seemed to crackle, but then I realized it was Jenks's wings. The pixy hovered beside me, waiting for direction. I could feel Ceri behind me, but I couldn't take my eyes off Quen, standing with his lips parted and his arms slack at his sides in his black uniform.

Slowly I straightened from my crouch. Ceri came forward, smelling of soap, in a fresh dress of purple and gold that hid her bare feet when she stopped beside me. Her crucifix rested easy against her, and her confidence was absolute. As was her anger.

'Uh, Ceri,' I said, not knowing what else to do, 'that man in the suit is Trenton Aloysius Kalamack, drug lord, murderer, and Fortune 30 member. That's Quen before him, his security officer. Trent, Quen, this is Ceridwen Merriam Dulciate, originally from the Dark Ages of Europe.' Let's get this party started!

Trent's face was white. 'How long were you listening… ?'

Ceri's narrow chin lifted. 'Long enough.'

I blanched when I realized that the humming noise was coming from Ceri and the black haze edging her fingers with their little butterfly bandages was magic waiting for direction. Oh, crap.

'Uh, Rachel…' Jenks said, his voice high.

A shiver took me at her proud anger. 'Let's hang back, Jenks. This might get nasty.'

The warning slant to Trent's eyebrows told me he wanted to pretend nothing had happened so he could make Ceri's acquaintance without the ugly reality of his life intruding. Ri-i-i-i-ight…

Multicolored sun coming in through the stained-glass windows added a surreal look to the standoff. Quen was by the piano, and when the older elf stepped to join Trent, Ceri calmly turned her gaze to him. Quen stopped. Seeing his acquiescence, the black surrounding her hands vanished.

My shoulders eased when I felt her drop the ley line. I knew she probably had enough ever-after spindled in her head to blow the roof off the church, but Trent and Quen didn't.

'Now that I've found you, I see that Rachel is right,' Ceri said as she gracefully took the middle of the room, her dress moving gently. 'You're a demon.'

'I beg your pardon?' Trent's beautiful voice held more ire than confusion.

I didn't have a clue how this was going to end, but I was glad to be out of the line of fire. Ceri noticed Quen moving to mirror my position, and she stiffened, pale hair shifting as she cocked her head regally. 'Did Rachel tell you I was a demon's familiar before she rescued me?' she said to Trent. Seeing his understanding, she continued, 'I know demons very well. And that's what they do. They offer you something that looks out of your reach in exchange for something they want that is out of theirs. They're called businessmen here. You're very good.'

His face reddened. 'This is not how I wanted to make your acquaintance.'

'I'll bet,' Ceri said. The modern phrase and the sarcasm with which she said it were shocking.

Proud and collected in his tailored suit, Trent fingered his gift and came closer, hiding his tension under a practiced calm learned in the boardroom. I couldn't help but be impressed with his determination to try to salvage something from this.

'I brought you a gift,' he said, extending the wrapped box. 'A show of thanks for your cellular sample.'

Jenks landed on my shoulder. 'The man has more balls than a prize bull,' he muttered, and the rims of Ceri's ears colored. She didn't take it, and Trent finally set it atop the piano.

Ignoring him, Ceri turned to Quen. 'You hesitated to attack Rachel at first. Why?'

Quen blinked, clearly not expecting this. 'Rachel's strongest defensive abilities are in her physical skills, not her magic,' he said, his gravelly voice blending beautifully with Ceri's smooth, perfect tones. 'I'm proficient with both, and it wouldn't be honorable to defeat her using something she can't defend against when I can assert my will where she has a chance to meet me equally.'

From my shoulder came Jenks's loud comment, 'Piss on my daisies, I knew there was something I liked about the little cookie maker.'

'That's important to you?' Ceri questioned regally, ignoring Jenks's comment.

Quen dropped his head, but his eyes were unrepentant from beneath his dark bangs. Trent shifted his feet. I knew it was a ploy to bring her attention to him, but Ceri smiled at Quen. 'There is a spark of us left,' she said, then took a breath as if readying herself for a difficult task.

Outside, pixies plastered themselves against the glass, and I felt a stab of nervousness when Ceri returned her focus to Trent. Seeing them together, I was struck by how much they looked alike. Their hair was that same fine, almost-transparent blond, their features both had the same delicate yet firm cast. Slim without losing strength. Strength without sacrificing beauty.

'I've been watching you for some time,' Ceri said softly. 'You're very confusing. Very confused. You have forgotten nothing, but you don't know how to use it.'

Trent's expression almost hid his anger. Almost. 'Mai Sa'han—'

Ceri's breath hissed, and she dropped back a step, dress furling to show her bare feet. 'Don't,' she said, complexion a delicate rose. 'Not from you.'

Quen twitched when she reached for her waistband, and she froze him with a look as she pulled a swab in a torn cellophane package from it. I recognized it as one of mine. 'I came to give you this,' she said, handing it to Trent. 'But since I have your attention…'

Jenks's wings made spurts of cool wind on my neck, and the tension escalated. Ceri tapped a line, and her hair shifted in a breeze that touched only her. I thought I sensed a metallic taste on my tongue. My face cold, I looked over the sanctuary as if expecting a demon to melt into existence, but then my gaze fell upon Ceri, and I blanched.

'Holy crap…'Jenks breathed, his wings going absolutely motionless.

Ceri had gone deathly still, gathering intent and power about her as if supplementing her damaged aura. Her undeniable beauty was like that of a fairy, savage and pale, face hollow, hard and unyielding. Quen didn't move as she closed in on Trent, near enough that her hair mingled with his. Near enough that she could pull his aura into her as she breathed.

'I am black,' she said, and a shudder rippled through me. 'I am foul with a thousand years of demon curses. Don't cross me or I will bring you and your house down. Rachel is the only clean thing I have, and you won't sully her to further your high ideas. Understand?'

A hard expression replaced Trent's shock, reminding me of who he was and what he was capable of. 'You're not who I though you would be,' he said, and Ceri let a cruel smile curve the corners of her mouth.

'I'm your worst nightmare come to walk this side of the lines. I'm an elf, Trent, something you've forgotten how to be. You're scared of black magic. I can see fear shimmering under your aura like sweat. I live and breathe black magic. I'm so tainted with it that I will use it without thought, without guilt, and without hesitation.'

She stepped forward into his space, and Trent moved back. 'Leave Rachel alone,' she said, the words soft as rain and as commanding as a god's.

Ceri reached to touch him, and in a blinding fast motion, Quen bolted forward.

I took a breath to shout a warning, but Ceri spun, a hurling black ball of ever-after. 'Finire!'

'Ceri!' I exclaimed, then cowered when it hit the circle Quen flung up and exploded into black sparkles.

Clearly ticked, Ceri strode to Quen, Latin spilling from her like black smoke. 'Quis custodiot ipsos custodies?' she said wrathfully, then plunged a tiny white fist into his circle.

Quen stared in shock as his circle fell.

'Finire,' Ceri said tightly, reaching for him, and when Quen grasped her wrist to do something, he froze, then dropped to the hardwood floor, out cold.

'Holy crap!' Jenks chirped from the rafters, and Ceri looked away from Quen. Anger made her pale beauty terrible.

'Ceri,' I coaxed, then stopped when she rounded on me.

'Shut up!' she said, long hair flying. 'I'm angry at you, too. No one has ever shoved me before in my entire life.'