Fury of the Demon

Chapter 4

I returned to the rooms I shared with Mzatal to find that Faruk had already carefully packed my duffel. To my delight and relief, the sweet faas had not only included my Earth clothing, but she had also selected a variety of the lovely garments made for me here in the demon realm by the clever little demons called zrila. After thanking Faruk effusively for saving me the trouble, I tossed in one or two little keepsakes, then made a quick trip to Idris’s room.

The faas had straightened up, made the bed, and put clothing away, but otherwise everything in the room was the same as Idris had left it four months ago. I found his hairbrush in the bathing chamber and pulled a few dozen blond and curling hairs from it, then put them and his toothbrush in a small cloth bag. Arcane power was cool and awesome, but DNA testing was pretty damn neat as well, and I intended to find out once and for all if Idris was my cousin.

I put the cloth bag in my duffel, then had nothing to do but wait with zero patience for the ritual. At long last all was prepared, and Ilana transported me down to the black sand beach near the nexus, saving me the walk down the bajillion stairs that hugged the cliff face. Running up them had become an almost enjoyable mind and body clearing ritual. However, it also cleared the pores with gallons of sweat, and since I didn’t really want to arrive back home a sodden mess, I expressed my deep gratitude to Ilana once we arrived on the beach. Though I didn’t see her, I knew Eilahn was somewhere close by, watching.

To the right the waterfall ended its five hundred foot plummet into a deep sea pool. To the left stood a large raised circle of basalt surrounded by eleven dark columns—Mzatal’s nexus. Unlike the utilitarian nexus Rhyzkahl and Jesral had created in the rainforest, this structure had stood for millennia as an augmented arcane hotspot that capitalized on a convergence of power flows. Eleven was the “magic” number for arcane work in the demon realm, based on the eleven lords, the qaztahl, who kept it all flowing. Above the surface of the nexus a hundred or more floaters of brilliant colors twisted and drifted, while Mzatal and Kadir stood on the far side, deep in a debate over the best means to finalize the section of sigils before them.

I felt the readiness of the ritual, the thrum of potency. Cold fear threatened to pry its way in, warning me of the perils of entering a ritual, especially one that had been formed by one of the Mraztur. I trust Mzatal, I reminded myself. Besides, there was no fucking way I was going to show fear in front of Lord Creepshow.

By the time I reached them, the debate between the two lords had been settled. Kadir stood back, his eyes on me, saying nothing, which was fine with me. Mzatal took my hand, and together we stepped onto the basalt and into the vortex energy of the nexus. I paused a moment, clung to his hand while I recovered my equilibrium, then moved carefully with him through the floaters to the center.

Mzatal laid his hand against the side of my face, caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I have much to do to prepare for my own departure,” he told me, “but I will be here, awaiting your summons, in twenty-four Earth hours.”

“You’d better be,” I said, smiling. “I don’t want to have to hunt you down.”

Kadir moved in my peripheral vision, and I riveted my focus on Mzatal’s face to help me avoid all thoughts of Creepshow’s involvement. After a lovely moment of saying goodbye, Mzatal released me and retreated to the perimeter of the diagram. Together, he and Kadir walked the full circle, then ignited the floaters with a dizzying rush of upward spiraling energy.

When I felt the ritual set, I slung the strap of my duffel over my shoulder, smiled and blew Mzatal an exaggerated kiss. “See you soon, Boss.”

The ritual coalesced around me like viscous slime, icy cold and smothering. My smile disappeared as alarm shot through me. This wasn’t right. I’d been summoned twice before and both times it felt like being dragged through shards of glass. Hideously unpleasant, yet this was far different. Worse, even though it didn’t have the same flaying pain.

The energy wrapped around me like the coils of a snake, squeezing the air from my lungs. I fought to suck in a breath, to move, to twitch, abruptly reminded far too much of the confining potency that had bound me during Rhyzkahl’s torture.

Mzatal and Kadir continued to work the flows side by side, focused and calm as though everything was going exactly as planned. But whose plan? I wondered as I fought against the rising panic. Suffocation sure as hell wasn’t in mine. Had Kadir found a loophole in Mzatal’s careful agreement? The potencies held me fast, pressed me inward upon myself, squeezed the breath from me. I struggled, consumed now with the need to get the hell out of the center of the nexus, to move, to do anything to stop this.

I felt Mzatal’s intimate touch flow through me, urging me to peace. Felt him. Felt the calm assurance.

It wasn’t enough to overcome the stab of primal terror, the memories of Rhyzkahl’s vile blade parting my flesh as I was held bound, immobile, far too similar to how the slime held me now. I tried to scream, to plead with Mzatal, but had no breath to do so.

Still Mzatal persisted, suffusing me with his steady presence, flooding me with reassurance and calm. He spoke, and though I couldn’t hear the words, I read them upon his lips, felt them in my core.

I am here, zharkat. Peace, beloved. Here, Kara. Here.

The panic slipped away, and I extended, met his eyes.

He lifted his hands and thrust them downward in a final gesture. The world twisted and, with a wrenching pull, the constricting slime and sunlight above gave way to weightlessness in silent, icy darkness. Cold seared through my bones, froze even the concept of movement. No sound, no scent, nothing but the void.

Warmth touched me, bringing a rippling discomfort like circulation returning to a limb. A moment later, I felt something solid beneath my feet, sensed my legs buckling. Pain shot through my knees and palms as I caught myself and gasped in precious air.

I heard a man’s voice. A shocked curse. Ryan. Still breathing hard, I looked up in time to see him leap to his feet from where he’d been sitting on a futon in my basement. His laptop nearly dumped onto the floor as he did so, but he managed a lightning fast save, then slung it without further regard to the futon. “Kara!?”

Finally catching my breath, I sat back on my heels, gave Ryan a grin, and put aside evil thoughts of how I was going to kill Mzatal for putting me through that. “Miss me, sweetie?”

He rushed over and crouched beside me. “You okay?” he asked, eyes searching me for any indication I wasn’t. “I had no idea you were coming.”

“I’m good,” I said. “It was a rough and weird ride, but I’m good.” I gave him a grateful smile as he helped me to my feet. “Nice to see you again.”

His face lit with a smile and he pulled me into a hug. “Missed you around here.”

Smiling, I wrapped my arms around him, took in his familiar scent. “I missed you too. It’s good to be back.”

He released me then hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the futon and other furnishings at the far end of the room. “And yes, I’m living in your basement,” he said, his tone colored with apology.

“You certainly are,” I said with a wry smile. Ryan and Zack had moved in when I was captive in the demon realm to help keep the place up, as well to be immediately on hand in the event of any new developments. Both were FBI agents, my friends, and so much more. Ryan was the exiled demonic lord Szerain, forced to live submerged as an unaware human, and named kiraknikahl—oathbreaker—by the demons. Zack was his demon guard and guardian, as well as my best friend Jill’s boyfriend and baby-daddy. I had no idea if Zack and Jill had discussed cohabitation, but considering that Jill was a pretty damn private person and that Zack needed to be living with or very near Ryan, I doubted they were shopping for a new house.

I swept my gaze around the basement, noting the evidence of manly habitation. Stacks of work files on the table, a pair of socks under the edge of the futon, a new small dresser and wardrobe against the far wall, an open bag of chips on the side table, trousers draped over the chair. I had a sudden hysterical image of Zack telling Ryan to take his mess downstairs where no one else had to see it. Not that it was really messy. But it was definitely lived in. “So. The temporary arrangement became more permanent?”

Chagrin flickered across his face. “Well, we thought that with everything going on with you and the demons, it’d be good to have a solid base of operations.” He drew a breath and released it in a rush, looking like a man desperately hoping to sell a wild idea. “Somewhere secure for you to come home to and for us to work from when you’re gone.” He tugged a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. “And yeah, I know we didn’t ask. Hope you’re not mad.”

It hit me. Hard. These people were my friends, put their own lives aside and gave a shit about me, for real. Sure, I’d already known that in an intellectual way, but something about having it demonstrated so clearly hit me right in the warm-fuzzy-feely parts. And, damn it, I liked the idea of having Ryan around.

“Mad? Hell no,” I said with a broad smile. “That’s one of the coolest things anyone’s ever done for me.” I thumped him in the chest. “But don’t think I’m changing my morning groggy-sometimes-bitchy, pre-coffee routine just because you’re here.”

Ryan laughed. “I hope not. You wouldn’t be you without it.”

I looked him over. He wore navy blue sweats and running shoes, and the hair around his ears was damp, leading me to think he’d recently showered. Four months, and still much the same. Short wavy brown hair with a hint of red, rugged yet handsome face, and green eyes flecked with gold. But there were also new lines of strain around his eyes. “You resting okay?” I asked.

“It’s been a rough few months, but I’m all right.” He made a dismissive gesture and focused on me with earnest intensity. “What’s next on your agenda?”

Nice change of subject, Ryan. I let it slide for now. “You know that Idris got taken by Rhyzkahl’s gang, right?” At his nod I continued, “Well, yesterday, they sent him back to Earth, I’m assuming to better hide him and probably for some other as-yet-unknown purpose as well.” I scowled. “I’m here now to do what I can to track him down and stop whatever the hell else is going on.” He frowned and opened his mouth to comment, but I held up a hand. “And, as soon as I have my storage diagram charged up, I’m summoning Eilahn. Then tomorrow night, Mzatal.” The storage diagram was basically an arcane “battery” that helped me stockpile potency. Damn handy since that meant I wasn’t restricted to summoning only on the high potency days of the full moon.

“You have a pretty full plate,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “And you still look a little shaky. Maybe you should sit down for a few.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s a little after eight p.m. You hoping to summon tonight?”

He had the shaky part right. I headed for the futon and let out a sigh of relief as I plopped down. “As soon I can get the diagram charged and my head clear.”

Ryan sat beside me and shifted half-sideways. Closer than friend distance and not as close as a lover. It was comfortable and right—for now. There was too much hidden. Ryan didn’t know he was Szerain, and I hadn’t known it until relatively recently, well after we’d already developed a rapport and even a relationship, albeit a rocky one. Now, I knew Szerain existed, fully aware, beneath the overlay façade of Ryan, even if Ryan didn’t. It made things interesting between us.

“When I was here before, I told you about Katashi going over to the Mraztur.” I said.

He nodded. “Right. He betrayed Mzatal, was his sworn summoner, had his Mark and all that.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure his people here on Earth are the ones who have Idris.” I gave him a hopeful smile. “Anything you and Zack could dig up with your FBI resources would be a huge help.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said without hesitation. “We can do info-scrounging.”

“Thanks. Mzatal made a list of his known associates. It’s in my bag somewhere. I’ll dig it out for you later.” I abruptly frowned as my gaze rested on a diagonal wall and door nestled in the far corner. “Ryan. There’s a door in my basement.”

“Yeah. Basic bathroom and shower. Figured it couldn’t hurt anything.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve made a few, uh . . . other additions too.” He gave me a wide smile. “By the way, you look pretty damn good.”

Change of subject number two. Noted. My mouth twitched in amusement. “Thanks. I work out. A lot,” I said, then grinned. “Me. Working out and actually wanting to.” It sure wasn’t that way before I went to the demon realm. Jill used to have to drag me kicking and screaming to go for a run.

“Inconceivable,” he said with a laugh. His eyes travelled over me. “And your hair is different.”

Puzzled, I reached up and touched my hair. “Oh! The faas—blue furry demons that look like dog-sized lizards—won’t let me style it myself anymore. Possibly because my idea of style is to stuff it into a ponytail.”

His face softened. “You’re really okay. And the lord . . . Mzatal. He’s treating you right?”

“He treats me very well,” I reassured him. “And I’m learning so much. It’s amazing.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He even sounded like he meant it, despite the jealousy Ryan had displayed in the past concerning both Rhyzkahl and Mzatal. Tension rose in his face, the muscle of his jaw working. “And what about Asshole?”

I didn’t need to ask. He meant Rhyzkahl. My mouth twisted in a scowl. “He’s alive and well, working closely with Jesral.”

Ryan froze, face reflecting angry darkness. “Jesral,” he said through clenched teeth. Ryan didn’t know Jesral but Szerain did. From the vehemence that laced the name, I had no doubt Szerain had punched his way through the overlay to express his animosity. Then Ryan sucked in a breath, shook his head as though to clear it, gave me a flicker of a smile. “Sorry. Things have been weird since you left.”

I covered his hand with mine, squeezed lightly in reassurance. “I bet they have.” And I knew the starting point for the weird times even if Ryan didn’t. When my aunt Tessa summoned me home from the demon realm four months ago, Ryan was in the basement with her. I arrived with Vsuhl, Szerain’s essence blade in my hand, and its presence triggered Szerain to try and recover the blade; empowered him enough to fight his way out of the submersion. For a few heart-pounding minutes, he’d been free, a hundred percent Szerain, until Zack submerged him again. But Zack didn’t seal Szerain’s prison as tightly as before and intentionally left the “lug nuts” loose, as he put it, on the mental grate that held him down. That meant Szerain was able to surface more in small ways, where the previous standard had been for the Ryan-overlay to eclipse Szerain on all levels. That had to be shaking up Ryan’s world. My heart ached for him.

“It’s going to be all right,” I continued. “I know it is.”

He turned his hand over and closed his fingers around mine. “Sometimes I’m not so sure. It feels like I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not. Promise.” Since I couldn’t tell him why I knew that, I decided it was my turn to change the subject. “Is there any food in the house? I could use a bite.”

Ryan managed a smile. “Yeah. Sure. I think there’s some leftover meatloaf in the fridge from last night. Zack keeps us in groceries, and he’s pretty much claimed your guest room.” His grimness slid away into amusement. “See what happens when you abandon us?”

“Hey, at least there’s food!”

Ryan stood and tugged me to my feet. “Yes, there’s actually something in your fridge besides a block of mild cheddar cheese and expired milk. C’mon.”

I laughed as we headed for the stairs. “As long as the cheddar’s still in there.”

“Oh, it’s there,” he told me. “No guarantees on its condition though. It’ll be underneath the Real Cheese.”

I noted changes in the house as we walked through. A game system by the TV in the living room. About twice as many DVDs on the shelf as before. A new cushy-looking recliner. Uncluttered kitchen counters, and the sink completely devoid of dishes. Could this even be my kitchen? Okay. So, Zack and Ryan were kitchen elves. No way was I going to complain about that.

And the fridge. I stopped in my tracks. An enormous gleaming stainless steel French door fridge stood where my dinky, noisy white one used to be.

My shock must have been obvious. Ryan nudged me with his arm as he headed to the gorgeous monstrosity. “The old one gave out about a month ago, so Zack replaced it.” He pulled the right door open to display a colorful variety of fresh fruit and vegetables, containers with food, and a noticeable lack of mold—all a rare sight in my fridge.

I closed my mouth. “Ryan, I can’t possibly afford this.” Not only was I without a job, but my meager savings were, well, meager.

He pulled meatloaf and sandwich fixings from the fridge and set them on the counter. “No worries, really. We’re living in the house, so we took care of this.” He glanced back. “And anyway, you have a job.”

I stared at him stupidly.

“You’re a special consultant assigned to our task force.” He grinned, obviously enjoying my bewilderment. “I have no idea how Zack got that approved without you being here, but it’s official. Oh, and Zack also got you set up with a concealed carry permit so you can continue to pack heat.” He chuckled. “Again, no idea how he managed it, but I’ve stopped asking questions.”

“Hot damn!” I had a strong suspicion he’d accomplished all this by using his demonhood somehow. “And does the job come with a paycheck?”

“Absolutely,” Ryan said as he threw sandwiches together. “Gotta love government spending.”

I exhaled in deep relief. “Very cool. I was worried about how I’d pay for silly things like property taxes and utilities and food and stuff.”

“We’ve been keeping up the utilities,” he told me, “and we’ll pitch in for other stuff for as long as we’re here.” He set plates with sandwiches on the table. “If you’re back for a while, you’ll probably boot us out. And I wouldn’t blame you.” He grinned. “I’m easy to get along with, but Zack’s another matter.”

“Right, he’s so difficult and moody, unlike you.” I rolled my eyes as I sat at the table and pulled one of the plates to me. I was definitely getting used to the idea of housemates. Hell, after seeing that fridge, I’d be okay if the two suddenly decided they wanted to learn the bagpipes.

Suddenly starving, I tucked into my sandwich, then stopped chewing as I tried to figure out why there was a control panel with a little video screen on the wall. I finished the bite, stood and moved over to the panel.

“It’s the gate system,” Ryan volunteered with a hint of hesitancy. “New fence on the whole perimeter and a keyed gate.”

I peered at the screen that showed the end of my drive and the highway beyond, and forced my mind past the sheer magnitude and expense of fencing the full ten acres. I’d entertained a “fence fantasy” for ages, but hadn’t ever thought of it as a real possibility. I had good protective wards around the property, but so much more could now be done with the additional vertical surface, not to mention the benefits of the mundane physical barrier. “That is so cool!”

Ryan grinned, obviously relieved at my reaction. “Yeah. That was all Zack’s idea. Speaking of which,” he said as he pulled out his phone, “I’m calling him to let him know the good news. Anyone else you want me to call?”

“Jill,” I said. “I’ll call Tessa when I finish eating.”

“Will do.” After a brief conversation with Zack, he shook his head and hung up. “Did he say to give you a hug or anything? Hell no. He said to tell you he has a stash of chocolate in the utility room, upper shelf, right cabinet.”

I let out delighted laughter. “He knows me!”

After I finished the sandwich, I called my aunt to let her know I was okay and would see her soon. The conversation was unexpectedly a little teary on both sides. Damn, it felt good to be home.

Ryan hung up with Jill at about the same time I said goodbye to Tessa. “She’s coming over tomorrow as soon as she can get a break at work,” he told me, mouth curving in a smile. “Her exact words were, ‘Don’t you let that crazy woman disappear again before I get there!’”

I grinned. “That sounds like the Jill I know and love!” Jill was, hands down, my best friend. Ryan was a damn good friend as well, but that relationship had certain significant quirks, to say the least.

I picked up my plate from the table and put it in the sink. That was almost like doing dishes, right? “I’m going to head downstairs and get started on the prep to summon Eilahn,” I said to Ryan.

“I have to run some errands. Need anything while I’m out?”

“As long as we have coffee, I’m good until tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’m going to clean up here, then head out.”

I have a kitchen elf! Chuckling to myself, I headed down to get to work.

Down in the basement, I crouched beside the storage diagram, assessed it, frowned. It was nearly fully charged though I’d drained it when I last used it to summon Mzatal four months earlier. Had Tessa stopped by and done it? Not that I was going to complain. It meant I could summon Eilahn an hour from now rather than waiting the six it would take me to charge an empty storage diagram.

I spent the next ten minutes doing arcane hygiene to clear residual energies from the summoning area. It wasn’t absolutely necessary, but I’d learned from experience that the tedious task saved hassle later. During the actual summoning stray energy could cause unforeseen problems, the arcane equivalent of a rock hitting a fan blade or sand in a car engine.

Once I was satisfied the space was clear, I rummaged through my box of chalk and found what I needed, then moved to a spot on the concrete floor not far from the storage diagram. Kneeling, I sighed. In the demon realm, floating sigils traced in the air replaced the crude and boring scrawls of chalk. But until I mastered the full shikvihr, the speed and ease of floaters wasn’t possible for me on Earth.

“Use what you have, Kara,” I muttered to myself as I began to create the perimeter for a syraza summoning diagram. I continued to sketch on the concrete, delighted to find ways to incorporate new principles I’d learned from Mzatal. Chalk’s not so bad when you know what you’re doing, I decided.

I’d nearly completed the diagram when the basement door creaked opened. “Hey, gorgeous,” Zack called out. “Okay if I come down.”

I smiled, set the chalk on the floor, and stood. “Hey, sexy. You may enter my lair.”

Zack quick-timed down the stairs, his movement smooth and athletic. Trim, with short blond hair, perpetual tan, and a ready smile, he looked more like a surfer dude than an FBI agent, despite the suit and haircut. Grinning, he swept me into a hug, lifted me off my feet and spun me around.

I let out a piercing half laugh, half shriek. “Put me down, you weirdo,” I demanded as I hugged him fiercely.

After one more revolution, he set me on my feet. “Welcome home!”

I couldn’t have suppressed my grin if I’d wanted to. “Good to be home.”

“Ryan and I, we’ve sort of moved in. A little,” he offered with a sidelong glance.

“Right,” I said with a laugh. “Like Russia invaded Poland a little.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “What do you have going on?” he asked.

“Eilahn told me she’d flay me alive if I left the property without her. You know how she is. I’m summoning her so that I’m not stuck here.”

Zack forced his mouth into a mock frown. “She could have amended it to where she’d flay you alive if you left the property without her or me. I have some skills, y’know.”

“Yes you do,” I agreed. As a demahnk—an elder syraza—he had whatever innate skills Eilahn possessed, and more. “But you’re not as scary as she is.” I grinned. “I think it was really her way of making sure I got Fuzzykins back to Earth as soon as possible.” At his questioning look, I explained, “When Tessa summoned Eilahn a couple of months ago, Eilahn brought Fuzzykins along, and the horrid thing proceeded to get knocked up. So now Eilahn wants her to,” I rolled my eyes, “give birth on her home world.’”

Zack laughed. “Gotcha.”

“By the way,” I said, “Tessa sent me the newspaper article about Roman Hatch and how he confessed to the murder of Tracy Gordon and how he permanently disposed of the body.” My mouth twitched in a smile. “Nicely done.” Roman Hatch was an ex-boyfriend who’d teamed up with Tracy Gordon—a fellow cop who’d turned out to be a summoner—to create a gate between this world and the demon realm. Not so bad on the surface, except that they murdered several people in the process and intended to trap me in the gate to power it.

Amusement flashed in his eyes. “Well, Roman did murder Tracy when he threw him into the active gate,” he said. “And since the gate shredded Tracy into teeny bits, he did permanently dispose of the body, too.” Zack spread his hands and assumed an utterly innocent expression. “However, I suppose it’s possible that someone helped him remember a version where he shot Tracy and then dumped his body in the river.”

I snorted a laugh. Though it took a lot of effort, Ryan was able to shift memories—a mere shadow of true manipulation but still useful when circumstances were dire enough to require it.

Zack’s gaze swept over the basement. “You need anything for the summoning?”

“I think I’m good. Almost done with the diagram.” I mentally reviewed the preparation steps, then glanced at him. “Did Tessa charge my storage diagram? It was darn near full.”

“She hasn’t been here since you left.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve kept it topped up for you,” he said. “I didn’t know when you’d be back, but I thought you might need it.”

I angled my head and regarded him. Though he had great skills with wards, I’d never known he could do anything related to summoning diagrams. Eilahn had never indicated that she could do so. Maybe it had to do with his being an elder syraza? “That’s awesome. Thanks.” I crouched and sketched the final sigil. “I think that’s about it. I’m almost ready to summon.”

“You want me to stay or go?”

I looked up at him, smiled. “I don’t mind if you stay.”

“Sweet. I’ll be over here.” He moved to the wall, put his back to it and went demon still.

Smoothly drawing power from the storage diagram, I laid the foundation and created the anchor points for the strands that would form the portal. The arcane structures coalesced with smooth ease, and when the time came to make the call, the power slid through me in a continuous flow rather than coming in stops and starts—far easier than ever before. Apparently, having the seventh ring of the shikvihr and a buttload more knowledge from training with Mzatal made a real difference. I could get used to this.

“Eilahn!”

Through the woven potency of the summoning, I felt the ritual find and take hold of the syraza. Had she been unwilling, this would have turned into a battle, like trying to land a big and powerful fish. But with Eilahn eager and ready to come, she slipped through the portal with minimal exertion on my part.

Not as easy for her. Summonings hurt. I knew that from experience. Eilahn stood in the center of the diagram with her head bowed and eyes closed, with only her shuddering breath betraying the stress of the summons. She was in her human form, and I breathed thanks to Mzatal for saving me the hassle and facilitating her shift from syraza to human. Dark skinned and tall, with sleek black hair that flowed past her shoulders, Eilahn had a multi-ethnic look that managed to combine the best of every continent. Her figure was long sleek muscles and curves, feminine and tough. Smokin’ hot chick, no doubt about it.

An unearthly screeching yowl reverberated through the basement, and I almost fumbled the strands. I quickly recovered, grounded the power and dropped the protections, then scowled at the cat carrier that I now saw beside Eilahn’s feet.

“You couldn’t forget the cat in the demon realm?” I asked sourly.

Eilahn gave a lovely frown. “That is a silly notion,” she stated. “I do not forget.”

I turned my attention to the carrier. “Hello, Fuzzykins,” I said with a sugary smile. “Why haven’t you been playing with hungry reyza like I’ve asked you to do?”

Eilahn gave me a look, crouched, and murmured to the cat as she released her from the carrier. The evil feline dashed out as quickly as her turgid body allowed, then proceeded to rub up against Zack’s legs, purring loudly. In the next heartbeat she turned, hissed at me, then waddle-ran up the stairs as I returned the hiss.

Zack met Eilahn’s eyes, and I sensed the demon connection like a vibration on the farthest edge of hearing. She emitted an odd chirp-trill more suited to her demon form. He approached her fluidly, took both of her hands, interlaced their fingers and leaned in to touch his forehead to hers. The vibration shifted quality, intensified.

I busied myself to give them space to do their demony thing, closed out the summoning diagram, and directed residual potency into the storage diagram.

A moment later, they parted, and Eilahn turned a steely eye on me. “You have not left this property?”

“I haven’t,” I said as I held up my hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Excellent! Flaying is so very messy,” she observed as she turned and sauntered up the steps. “I do prefer to avoid it, though I would perhaps make an exception in the case of Ryan.”

I smiled. It was good to be home.