Fury of the Demon

Chapter 8

I headed to the basement door, knocked twice. “Sorry, boys,” I called out, “but I need to charge my diagram.” I turned the knob and pulled, but the door didn’t open. Locked. Annoyance curled through me. It was probably exacerbated by the general shitty nature of the day, but in that moment, I didn’t care. It’s my goddamn house, I fumed. You can do all the repairs and cleanup and additions you want, but you don’t fucking lock me out of any part of it.

I went up on tiptoes to retrieve the key from the top of the doorframe, but even unlocked the door still refused to budge. Annoyance shifted to outright indignation as othersight revealed a clever little ward. Zack’s work, I knew, and completely impervious to my attempt to unwind it.

Controlling the urge to pound on the door and yell, I once again knocked.

When Zack finally opened the door, I leveled a glare at him. “I need to get into my basement to start my summoning prep.”

Zack regarded me, his face serious. “Will you do so quietly?”

The question didn’t do anything to improve my mood. “Sure,” I snarled. I pushed past him then headed quietly down the stairs, moved to the storage diagram and crouched. I deliberately didn’t look in Ryan’s direction, mostly out of pique though with a good measure of guilt. Sure, he’d been an ass to me, but I’d lost it when I should have walked away, considering his circumstances. Out of my peripheral vision I could see him supine on the futon, eyes closed. So much for making a statement by not looking at him.

Shifting to sit cross-legged, I started feeding potency into the diagram. Zack returned to kneel near Ryan’s head, clasped his hand and spoke soothingly in demon. Ryan was certainly unaware, maybe sleeping, but Szerain never slept—part of the horrible nature of his imprisonment.

Another pang of guilt wound through me. Ryan wasn’t playing a petty game of I’m-not-looking-at-you-because-I’m-pissed. Zack had him unconscious as he worked diligently to re-stabilize his world and Szerain’s.

Damn it, I shouldn’t have put him in that position in the first place. What was I thinking snuggling up to him? Talk about giving a confusing message. Too caught up in my own shit to think about the consequences, I couldn’t have come up with a better way to send him into a tailspin if I’d tried. I wanted comfort. Comfort food. Comfort friend. But I’d crossed the friend line, used Ryan, and been a needy jerk.

The guilt retreated at the realization. It didn’t change what had happened, but I now saw how I’d been stuck in an old pattern. I could beat myself up about today’s situation, or I could take the lessons and move on. Screw it. I was done with being so damn needy.

I listened to Zack’s fluent speech as I fed the diagram, let it soothe me like the murmur of a brook. Though I caught snatches of the demon words, I couldn’t understand it. For all I knew Zack was telling him the story of Little Red Riding Hood. While in the demon realm I’d grown used to understanding meaning, even though I couldn’t speak the language. The grove connection acted like a universal translator, and I missed it for that and so much more. I could live without it, but it sure was nice to live with it, kind of like indoor plumbing. I hadn’t realized how much I was used to its comfort, its presence—one of those things where I didn’t miss it until it was gone.

After about ten minutes I assessed the potency level of the diagram and found it nearly full. I sealed it and quietly retreated upstairs to check on Jill.

She still sat at the table. “I hate chocolate,” she said as she shoved the container away.

“That’s the hormones talking.” I gave her a weak smile. “Looks like Ryan and Zack are deep in discussion about some case. They barely noticed me. Sorry.” I hated lying to her. Zack needed to tell her something.

Disappointment flickered on her face, but she simply shrugged. “I guess it is the middle of a workday.” She glanced at the clock. “Yikes! Speaking of which, I need to get back. I took a long lunch, but now I’m running late.”

“I guess I’ll catch you later,” I said. “I won’t be summoning Mzatal until about eight tonight. You want to put off scoping out my awesome new boyfriend until tomorrow?”

“That’s probably a good idea. I need all the sleep I can get.” She put her hand on her belly. “The bean kept me up half the night kicking, then my neighbor’s dog started barking at about five. It didn’t last long, but I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Bummer. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I paused, frowned. “What day of the week is it?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Tuesday.” She stood, snatched a miniature chocolate almond bar from the container and slipped it into her pocket. “You okay on the year?”

“Yeah, sure.” I grinned. “Got that part down.”

Jill laughed. “Whew! Gotta run. Call me tomorrow.”

“Will do. Take care, babe.”

She gave me a quick hug, and I startled at the sudden jab in my midsection. I pulled back and stared at her belly.

“Holy shit,” I said. “No wonder you can’t sleep!”

Jill made a face. “She wants out. Now.” Her phone dinged. “Shit. They’re looking for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She snatched up her bag and dash-waddled to the door, leaving the house strangely quiet in her wake.

A long shower, real food, and a short nap worked wonders to recharge me and put some distance on the morning’s murder scene and the Ryan fiasco.

I looked at the basement door and sighed. It had been several hours. Hopefully, Zack had Ryan stabilized. Time to make the donuts.

I hesitated, then knocked twice.

Zack called out, “It’s open.”

Relieved, I quick-stepped down the stairs, a lot calmer than I’d been the last time. Ryan appeared to be asleep on the futon, and Zack still sat in the chair beside him. I had a feeling Zack been there the whole time I was gone.

Zack cleared his throat. “Sorry about earlier.”

“No problem,” I said. “Ryan needed you.” I quickly checked the storage diagram to verify it was full, then returned my attention to him. “It was a short but nasty fight.”

He exhaled softly. “He was pretty off balance.”

My shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I got sucked in to reacting to the stupid overlay.” Despite everything, it still grated at me that the “stupid overlay” constituted the majority of the Ryan I knew.

“I know it isn’t easy for you,” Zack said gently. “He’s stable now, and Szerain has a better handle on it. There shouldn’t be much fallout from Ryan on this, if any.”

I smiled weakly. “I get a do-over?”

“Something like that.”

“Thanks,” I said, relieved. “I’ll do my damndest not to let it happen again.”

With my guilt somewhat assuaged, I gathered several colors of chalk from the supply table and paced the summoning area, prepared to clear it of arcane residuals in preparation for the new diagram. Yet to my surprise, not only was the area already clear it was impossibly spotless, arcanely speaking. No way should it have been so squeaky clean after my summoning of Eilahn.

I slanted a look at Zack. “Did you do the clearing?”

He gave me a wry smile. “Least I could do for taking up your basement.”

“Thanks.” Clearing wasn’t hard, but it was a chore. I knelt and sketched out the central sigil then stopped and set the chalk down. My thoughts kept darting back and forth between the task at hand and the issues with Ryan, and only a foolish summoner laid a pattern with less than full focus.

Standing, I returned my gaze to Zack and gestured him over. Even with Ryan asleep, Szerain could hear everything. Zack stood and moved to me. I met his eyes and kept my voice low. “I fell in love with Ryan,” I told him flatly, “but I don’t even know if that person is real.” I grimaced. “No. That’s not true. I know he’s not the real Ryan Kristoff.” I struggled to find the words to express my persistent inner dread. “Is there anything of the Ryan I know in Szerain?”

“It isn’t ever fully one or the other,” Zack replied with gentle honesty. “It can’t be. Most of what you’ve seen is the Ryan-overlay in domination. Though even that is a diluted extension of Szerain.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated. So very complicated.”

I let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess it is.” I crouched again, examined the sigil I’d drawn and made a correction. “No matter whether he’s Ryan or Szerain, I care about him, and I can’t simply write him off. The problem is, he keeps being Ryan to me, so I have trouble seeing and remembering that Szerain’s in there as well.” I blew out my breath, watched chalk dust swirl in the air. “I think I understand us both—maybe all of us—a little better now.”

“A benefit for everyone,” Zack agreed.

“And speaking of you and Ryan,” I said, “you haven’t explained to Jill why you spend so much time with him, have you?” At his pained grimace, I went on, “She’s hurting you know. Not badly enough for me to kick your ass, but enough that I think you should do something. She’s my friend, and so are you.”

His eyes grew distant, and for a fleeting moment it looked as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Being a 24/7 guard no doubt took its toll, demon or not.

“I’ll do better with Jill,” he said, then he flashed a smile and the crushing weariness was gone. No, not gone, I noted. Masked. “I promise,” he added.

I nodded and let the subject go. For now. “How will Szerain handle Mzatal being here?”

Zack shrugged helplessly. “Damned if I know. I’ve never had anything like this come up before. It will likely be a challenge, to say the least.”

“Move over, there’s a new lord in town.” I added a laugh to cover the flicker of worry.

He let out an answering chuckle. “Good grief. Did I sign up for this shit?”

“As much as any of us did.”

“So basically, someone forged our signatures.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.”