flat beside it. 'Yes or no.'
'Pick someone else,' I said. 'There are millions of witches. Someone has got to be more stupid than me and say yes. Give them a name and exchange it with Al.'
He looked at me from over his shades. 'You're one of two witches this side of the lines whose blood is capable of making a strong enough bond. Yes or no?'
Oh, back to the demon magic thing. Swell. 'So use Lee,' I said bitterly. 'He's stupid.' As well as aggressive, ambitious, and now a basket case from having been Al's familiar for a couple of months before I rescued him. Sort of. God, no wonder Al hated me.
Minias sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. A faint whiff of Brimstone tickled my nose. 'He has too close a tie to Al,' he said, his gaze on the ceramic mug cradled in his hands. 'He wouldn't do it. I asked. The man is a coward.'
My neck stiffened. 'And if common sense makes me say no, then I'm a coward, too?'
'You can't be summoned,' he said, as if I was being obstinate. 'Why are you balking?'
'Al would know my name.' Just the thought made my pulse quicken.
'You know his.'
For one brief moment I considered it. Then the thought of Kisten flashed through me. I couldn't take the chance. Not again. This wasn't a game, and there was no reset button. 'No,' I said abruptly. 'We're done here.'
My mother's shoulders eased and Jenks's feet touched the table. I was wire tight, wondering if this truce would last now that I had said no, whereupon he'd return to a normal demonic frame of mind and trash the place along with what was left of my reputation. But Minias finished his coffee in a final swallow, raising his hand and motioning for the clerk to make one more to go. He rose, and my held breath escaped. 'As you want it,' Minias said as he picked up the cinnamon and stood. 'I won't be conveniently coming to save you a second time.'
I was about to tell him where he could shove his convenience, but Al was going to show up again, and if I could call Minias to collect him, my chances of survival would increase—I thought. I didn't have to take Minias up on his offer, just survive until I figured out who was summoning Al and deal with him or her myself. Demon summoning wasn't illegal, but my foot in their gut a couple of times might convince them it was a really bad idea. And if it was Nick? Well, that would be a real pleasure.
'What if I think about it?' I said, and my mother gave me a nervous smile and a pat on my arm. See, I can use my brain, too.
Minias smirked as if he saw right through me. 'Don't think too long,' he said, accepting the paper cup Junior was extending to him. 'I've gotten word that they caught him on the West Coast trying to ride the shadow of night into tomorrow. The pattern-shift indicates he has everything he needs and all that's left is implementing it.'
I refused to show my fear, not swallowing though my mouth was dry.
Minias leaned close, the scent of burnt amber high in my imagination as his breath shifted my hair. 'You're safe until the sun goes down tomorrow, Rachel Mariana Morgan. Hunt fast.'
Jenks rose up on his dragonfly wings, clearly frustrated as he stayed just out of the demon's easy reach. 'Why don't you just kill Al?'
Tucking the entire container of cinnamon into a jacket pocket, Minias shrugged. 'Because we haven't had a demon birth in five thousand years.' He hesitated, then shook his arm to cause an amulet to slip from his sleeve and fall into his fingers. 'Thank you, Alice, for the use of your amulet. If your daughter is half as skilled in the kitchen as you, she would make a fine familiar.'
Mom had made it herself? I thought. Not simply invoked a pilfered one?
The cloying scent of burnt amber rolled over me, and my mother blushed. It was obvious by the protests of the surrounding people that they had noticed the stench as well, and Minias smiled an empty smile behind the mirrored black glasses. 'If you would banish me?'
I'd totally forgotten. 'Oh. Sure,' I mumbled as the people behind him turned with their hands over their noses in complaint. 'Ah, demon, I demand that you depart here and return directly to the ever-after to not bother us again this night.'
And with a nod, Minias vanished.
The people behind him gasped, and I waved. 'University professor late for a class,' I lied, and they turned, laughing at their fear and dismissing the stench as an early Halloween prank.
'Lord help you, Rachel,' my mother said sourly. 'If that's how you treat men, it's no wonder you can't keep a boyfriend.'
'Mom, he's not a man. He's a demon!' I protested softly, pausing as she pocketed that charm. Clearly hair straighteners weren't the only thing she was trading to Patricia. Scent amulets weren't hard to make, but one strong enough to block out a demon's stench was highly unusual. Talk about your niche market. Maybe she was specializing in charms no one else bothered with to avoid competition—and thus lawsuits—from annoyed, licensed charm makers.
Eyes on my coffee, I said, 'Mom, about those amulets you've been making for Patricia.'
Jenks took to the air, and my mother huffed. 'You're never going to find Mr. Right if you don't start playing with Mr. Right Now,' she said, gathering everything up on her plate. 'Minias is obviously Mr. Never, but you could have been a little nicer.'
Jenks shrugged, and I sighed.
'I noticed he didn't offer to get the tab, though, did he?' my mother finished.
I took another swallow of my coffee and gathered myself to rise. I wanted to get home to my sanctified church before any more demons popped into my life with nasty solicitations. Not to mention I had to talk to Ceri. Make sure Ivy had told her Al was out.
As I slowly followed Jenks and my mom to the trash and then the door, my thoughts swung back to what Minias had said about no new demons being born for the last five thousand years. He was at least five thousand years old and had been assigned to monitor and seduce a female demon? And why no new demons? Was it because there were so few female demons left, or because having sex with one could be deadly?
Three
I set the stack of unopened desk organizers I'd bought last month on the scratched hardwood floor of the sanctuary, wincing at the high-pitched squeal of pixy children as they swarmed into the nook of my desk that I had just opened up. They weren't moving in for the winter yet, but Matalina was getting a jump on prepping my desk. I couldn't blame her for the fall cleaning. I didn't use my desk much, and there was more dust gathering than work done at it.
The urge to sneeze took me, and I held my breath, eyes watering until the feeling evaporated. Thank you, God. I glanced at Jenks at the front of the church, where he was keeping a fair number of his younger kids busy, and out of the way, with decorating the sanctuary for Halloween. He was a good dad, a part of him that was easy to overlook when he was out busting bad guys with me. I hoped I found half as good a man when I was ready to start a family.
The memory of Kisten—blue eyes smiling—swam up, and my heart seemed to clench. It had been months, but reminders of him still came fast and hard. And I didn't even know where the thought of children had come from. There wouldn't have been any with Kisten, unless we fell back on the age-old tradition of borrowing a girlfriend's brother or husband for a night, practices born long before the Turn, when to be a witch would sign your death warrant. But now even that hope was gone.
Jenks met my eyes, and a gentle dusting of gold contentment slipped from him as he watched Matalina. His pretty wife looked great. She had been fine all this summer, but I knew Jenks was watching her like the proverbial hawk with the onset of the cold. Matalina barely looked eighteen, but pixy life spans were a mere twenty years, and it made me heartsick that it was only a matter of time before we'd be doing this with Jenks as well. A secure territory and steady food supply could do only so much in lengthening their lives. We were hoping that by removing the need for them to hibernate they all would benefit, but there was a limit to what good living, willow bark, and fern seed could do.
