The Demon's Librarian

CHAPTER 13

It was past nine p.m. by the time they reached Chess's apartment building. She felt a little more sanguine, having napped on the couch in Charlie's office while her sister finished up some paperwork. All in all, she actually felt pretty good. Relieved.

Of course, the fact that she'd performed a spell or two to prove this was real and she was sane might have something to do with it. It felt good to show someone else, good not to look at her sister with the profoundly empty feeling of keeping a secret.

"Only you would live in an apartment building without an elevator,” her sister complained, her heels clicking on the stairs. “Is it a secret demon-hunting lair?"

"Shut up.” I thought she'd have more of a problem with this. But I guess the fiat lux trick convinced her. Hard to argue with a woman who can throw light like a flashlight. And that trick with the glass of water—boiling, then ice, then boiling, then ice—helped too, although the cleanup's a bitch. All in all it had been easier to convince Charlie than she'd hoped.

Then again, Charlie read science fiction when she wasn't reading law; it was a family quirk. She didn't have to be hit on the head to be convinced. Besides, she trusted Chess implicitly. I've never been so glad to have an older sister.

But Charlie hadn't seen a demon yet. That was kind of the point at which all this stuff became well-nigh unbearable. And Chess hadn't mentioned the murder on Harkness Street. There were some things even family couldn't handle.

How about that? I just saw Ryan kill a man with his bare hands, and I'm still protecting him. Keeping a secret. But to be fair, the man he killed was stretching out like that kid in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And growing big bony claws. Not to mention coming for me, and I don't think he was going to ask me to dance. She shivered, a shudder rilling up her back.

"I'm just asking.” Her sister sounded delighted. “Ooh, is there a secret handshake? For demon hunting?"

"No. But I get tossed into Dumpsters. Oh, and held up against walls and sniffed. Not to mention taken underground by trolls.” And kissed. Did we forget kissed?

She hadn't forgotten the kiss. She was glad the stairwell was only dimly lit; the hot feeling in her cheeks had to be blushing. Ryan. I hope he got away okay.

"No wonder you haven't been answering your phone.” Charlie apparently couldn't resist one little goose. But all in all, she was taking this calmly.

They reached Chess's floor, and she pushed the fire door open. A slice of yellow light pierced the gloom of the stairwell, and her own familiar hall stretched away toward the other door, the one she'd banged out to go down the utility stairwell and out into the alley. Her bag weighed against her shoulder, and she felt greasy and cruddy. “I'll pack, and then we can stop at that Thai place on the way to your house. I really appreciate this, Charlie Lou.” She held the door for her sister, who still looked immaculate despite finishing a day of work and dealing with a crazy younger sister and the news that there were, after all, demons in the world.

"Don't call me that, Chessie Ray. I wish I could have seen this guy get rid of Robert. Didn't I tell you he was bad news?"

Chess winced. Trust Charlie to pick the most embarrassing instead of the craziest thing about this. “You were right."

"He really tried to barge into your apartment? Creepy.” Charlie made her “men-are-idiots” noise, a slight, sharp puff of air past clenched teeth.

"Way.” Chess glanced over the hall. Uneasiness crept under skin, and she reached into her bag, pushing the flap aside and curling her hand around the hilt of her knife.

Immediately, the prickling buzzing sensation washed up her arm. Oh, no. “Crap,” she breathed, and pulled the knife free, leaving the sheath in the bag.

Blue light sprang loose as soon as the blade left the bag, and Charlie actually gasped. “What the… oh. Oh, man. Wow."

"Shhh!” Chess hissed fiercely. “Let's get you inside the apartment. If there's a demon I'll have to deal with it."

"Chess, what if the demon's inside your apartment?” It was a good question. Charlie's green eyes were wide, and the color had drained from her face. She stared at the knife as if it was a snake; the blue glow struck the walls and cast their shadows behind them.

"I warded my window, and if a demon came in through the door it would be all smashed. They're not the type to pick locks.” She transferred the knife to her left hand and dug for her keys, approached her door cautiously. “Watch that end of the hall. If the door opens, yell."

"I feel like I'm in a bad movie. This is exactly the point where I'd be screaming ‘don't go in there!' at the screen.” Charlie lifted her chin, her eyes glittering.

They approached Chess's door. She stuck her key in the top deadbolt. It was undone, and she frowned. She always left both deadbolts locked.

Oh, shit. She tried to second deadbolt. Unlocked too.

Double shit.

The doorknob was locked, though. Time seemed to slow down, and she motioned Charlie back. “If anything happens,” she whispered, “run."

"Shit all over that,” Charlie whispered back. “I'm not leaving you in the lurch."

"Don't argue with me.” Chess pulled the key back out. Dropped her keys in her bag, transferred her knife to her right hand. Here goes nothing. She turned the knob slowly, slowly, the knife's prickling buzz in her hand reaching a crescendo. The door ghosted open, Chess hanging back and staring into darkness.

She lifted the knife, the blue glow penetrating the gloom. Saw nothing but her front hall, the back of her couch, the window beyond orange with citylight. Come out come out wherever you are. Or did I leave the deadbolts unlocked? I was nervous, I might have… but I don't think I did. I don't leave my deadbolts unlocked. Ever. That's like begging to be robbed.

"Chess?” Charlie whispered.

She motioned for quiet and took a step forward, pushing the door open wide. Nothing hiding behind there. Probably in the kitchen, that's where I'd hide if I wanted to surprise someone—

She barely had time to choke out a cry when the hand closed around her wrist and jerked her off her feet. The knife went flying, another hand clapped over her mouth, and Charlie zoomed around the corner, yelling Chess's name. Chaos descended, the door kicked shut and Chess suddenly struggled with frantic fear, “Charlie! Charlie!” Screaming through the hand on her mouth, striking out with fist and knee and fingernails. She finally regained enough presence of mind to sink her teeth into the hand and heard a faint hissing in-breath. He was strong, locking her wrist with his free hand and actually picking her up off her feet. He had to work to subdue her. She kept biting, kept kicking, and heard Charlie yell again, sounding more surprised than hurt.

"Calm down!” a familiar voice sliced through the hubbub. She heard a thump and a male cry of pain, sounded like Charlie had scored one. “Calm down, Chess, it's me! You're safe, it's okay, just calm the fuck down!"

Ryan? She went limp, breathing heavily, and he slid his hand away from her mouth. Chess found herself caught in a bear-hug. He squeezed just short of pain and buried his face in her hair again, her cheek was smashed against something that felt like his chest. He was warm, very warm, and it even smelled like Ryan, the peculiar scent of male and demon-tang that followed him around. Oh, my God. “Ryan?” I sound dazed. I feel dazed. How did he get in?

The hall light flipped on, and Chess heard a slight, definite click. “Let go of my sister, asshole.” Charlie wasn't messing around. “Or I'll blow your fucking friend's head off."

Oh, boy.

A definite tremor went through Ryan's body. Chess wriggled free, his arms going loose and dropping down to his sides. He stared, not at Charlie but at Chess, his eyes unblinking and gone deep and dark. He had never looked more feral, his eyebrows faintly drawn together and his hands slowly curling into fists. She wondered if he was fighting those “instincts” again.

Charlie had her knee in the other man's back, and Chess saw, with no real surprise, it was the hunk in tweed, Paul. And her sister was holding a very nice baby Glock, the end of the barrel pressed to the back of Paul's skull. Charlie's hair was wildly mussed, her eyes all but snapped sparks, her linen jacket was torn and she'd lost a shoe.

She looked magnificent. Chess's heart hammered in her throat. The wild urge to laugh rose up inside her throat, died away. Where did you get that gun from, Charlie?

"Chess?” Her older sister was breathing rapidly, her ribs almost flickering. “These guys friends, or should I put a bullet in this asshole's head?"

Oh, Charlie, God bless you. “Charlie, this is Ryan. The one on the floor is Paul. Guys, this is my sister, Charlie.” I saw you kill a man with your bare hands, Ryan. But wouldn't you know, I'm actually glad to see you. “You can let him up off the floor and put the gun away. I don't think they're here to kill me."

"Are these the good guys?” Charlie didn't look convinced.

"Ryan is.” She heard the conviction in her own voice and winced. “The guy you're holding down is an arrogant fuck, but he's basically all right."

"What are they doing hiding in here?” But Charlie eased up on the gun with an ease that spoke of long practice. “Did you give them a key?"

"No, I didn't.” But it's not the first time he's grabbed me just as I got through the door.

Ryan was still staring at her. He was shaking, she realized, his fists visibly trembling. His jaw was set, his eyes glittering—he looked like a man on the edge of murder. “Ryan?” Her throat was suddenly dry. “You okay?"

"Ow,” Paul spoke up. “Get off, woman! God, I've been beaten to a pulp by goddamn Inkani today, I don't need any more.” There was the sound of movement, then a long, low whistle. “Shit. Stay still. Listen, Ms. Barnes, you'd better touch him."

She stared, fascinated, as a muscle twitched in Ryan's cheek. He hadn't blinked once. He stared at her like he was trying to stare his way through her. “What the hell are you talking about?” She shifted her weight as if to step back, and Ryan twitched.

Chess froze.

"Look,” Paul said quietly. “Just step up to him, nice and easy, and touch him. Skin on skin's best. He's worked himself into a state worrying about you, and right now he's fighting to stay calm. Just trust me on this one, okay?"

Trust you? Oh, sure. You're an arrogant fucking Malik who wants to steal my library… but you did help me get away from those things. All right. “Ryan?” I sound like a little girl, all breathy.

"I'm serious, woman. You want him to snap? Calm him down, or he's going to go ballistic."

Since when is that my problem? But she swallowed, and stepped forward slowly. Very slowly. He watched her, his eyes half-closed and volcanic tremors going through him in waves. Christ, he looks ready to explode. “Ryan? Take a deep breath, calm down. Okay?"

Another step closer. He watched her; if his fists got any tighter his palms might start bleeding.

"What the hell's wrong with him?” Charlie whispered. Chess didn't blame her, the waves of rage coming off Ryan shimmered like heat over pavement.

"He's fighting his instincts,” Paul whispered back. “Don't worry. She'll calm him down, he won't hurt her."

"How do you know?” Charlie didn't sound convinced.

Hear, hear, Chess seconded. Ryan stared at her, the glimmer of eyes under his lids oddly hot.

"She's about the only person safe from him right now. Stay still.” Thank God Paul sounded calm.

You and I are going to have a long talk about this, Mr. Tweedy. A nice long coffee klatch. Chess reached out, her right hand meeting Ryan's. Her fingertips touched his fist, hard as rock and shaking a little. What am I supposed to do? Last time he got this upset he wanted me to talk to him. I wonder if that would work now? “Ryan.” She heard herself using her firm-but-gentle voice, as if she was talking to a five-year-old at the library, or a feral cat. “Take a breath, calm down. It's all right. Everything's all right. I didn't know you'd come back here. I thought you were gone with your partner."

A shudder went through him. His fist unloosed, his palm turned out, and he grabbed her wrist. She almost flinched, expecting him to squeeze, but his fingers were gentle. Almost exquisitely gentle. He still stared at her, a muscle flicking irregularly in his cheek.

Keep talking, you idiot. Calm him down. Okay. “I hope you guys didn't clean out my fridge. I'm a little hungry. We were planning on going out for Thai. I'm going to spend the night at Charlie's, it seems safer than staying home alone. Now you've got your partner back everything's cool, right? I'm glad he's alive.” But who was in that room? And your fingerprints are probably in there. God. What are you going to do if the police come after you? “I'd ask you what happens next, but you seem a little occupied right now. This is my sister, she's a lawyer but don't hold it against her. I had no idea she was carrying a gun."

The tension was slowly leaving Ryan's shoulders. A little sense began to come back into his eyes. Chess tried again. “I'm glad to see you. I don't like you picking the lock on my front door, though. Or leaving it unlocked. Although who would come in and try to steal my TV with you in here, I don't know. Nobody's that stupid. I hope."

He took a deep breath, his eyes closing and his mouth relaxing. His face smoothed out. The rage simmering in the air drained away. Chess let out a long, soft breath, relieved. She pulled gently against his hand, trying to free her wrist, but he didn't let go.

"Chess.” His voice was harsh, strained. “Are you all right?"

He sounded like he was being strangled. Chess swallowed, hard. “I'm fine,” she soothed. “I think I pulled something running away from there, and I'm not at all happy about this turn of events, but… I'm fine. I'm glad you didn't disappear. I thought you were going back to the Order."

He shook his head. “They wouldn't have me,” he whispered. The last of the tension left him, his shoulders sagged. “I told you, I'm on your side. I'm useless to them now."

"I wouldn't go that far,” she pointed out. “You're the only one I trust.” Christ, did I just say that? I think I did. Lord help me, I've gone and got myself attracted to a guy who scares the hell out of me and kisses like a thunderbolt. Not to mention kills people with his bare hands. We're going to have to talk about that, Ryan.

Amazingly, one corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. “Really?” He sounded delighted and hoarse all at the same time. “You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it,” she soothed. “We're partners, remember? Now, how about you calm down and quit scaring all of us?"

Ryan nodded. There was a shadow of coal-black stubble on his cheeks, his shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked tired. “Sorry.” He sounded sorry, too. “I was worried about you."

Oh, Lord. I'm in too deep. Who would have guessed? “You were? Well, I'm okay. I'm here. Are you okay now?"

He nodded, once, sharply, then let go of her wrist. Chess almost flinched again, controlled the movement. His eyes opened back up, and he looked down at her. She caught a flash of something far back in his dark eyes—something like resignation, maybe—and her heart leapt into her throat. She was suddenly very conscious that her hair was sticking up all over her head, she was wearing damp clothes that smelled like an alleyway, her face felt sandy and her mouth foul from sleeping on Charlie's office couch. Her heart was in her throat, and the world seemed to have shifted off its axis by a couple of crucial degrees.

"I'm sorry,” he repeated, as if she hadn't heard him the first time. “Really, I am."

"It's all right.” She got the idea he was apologizing for more than scaring her, and that she was agreeing to more than she'd bargained for. “I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm very far from okay,” he said calmly. “But you're alive. I'll be fine. Now who the hell is this, and where the hell have you been?"

Charlie took a whiff of the luminescent blue goo in the glass jar and wrinkled her nose. “What the hell is in this? It smells like Wrigley's gone bad."

"Rotten Juicy Fruit? I never thought of that.” Chess, standing in the bathroom doorway, scrubbed at her hair with the towel. She was beginning to feel a little more like herself now that she had taken a short, hot shower. God bless whoever invented indoor plumbing. “It's good for bruises and scrapes, and I think it healed a concussion."

Paul was at the window, looking out into the alley. He was extremely quiet, and Chess found out she liked him better that way. He kept glancing back over his shoulder at Ryan, who seemed much calmer now. But still, there was a gleam in Paul's eyes she didn't think she liked.

"Concussion?” Charlie had brushed her hair and found her shoe. She eyed Ryan uneasily as she capped the jar; he sat across the table from her, loading a clip with bullets Paul had produced. “Did he do that?"

Charlie was not convinced of the advisability of letting two armed men stay in her little sister's apartment, but even she had to admit that Ryan didn't seem like a threat. And that it was, after all, Chess's house, and Chess got to say who stayed. A full half-hour of discussion had brought them that far, at least.

"Indirectly. He pushed me out of the way when a demon came for me. I fetched up against a Dumpster pretty hard.” In fresh jeans and a T-shirt, with her bag on the table and her knife safely sheathed—even if blue light did glitter out between the hilt and the sheath—Chess thought she just might be able to handle this. “It wasn't his fault."

Ryan glanced at her. It was a short look, somehow managing to convey gratefulness. She found herself smiling back at him, an expression that felt natural. Even unshaven and obviously tired, he still looked extremely… attractive. In a stubbly, dangerous, dark-eyed sort of way.

Stop it, Chess. He killed someone. And you still haven't asked him about those bodies in the room. Who were they?

Charlie yawned. She had probably been at work since six and was a little punchy. “You still coming over to spend the night? I'm famished, Chess, in case you've forgotten. I need food."

Chess was dying to ask her where the gun had come from, decided it could wait. I haven't forgotten. Christ, I only took a ten-minute shower. “I'll go for Thai with you. I don't know if staying here is a good—"

"Staying here's safe,” Ryan interrupted. “I'll stand watch.” He finished loading the bullets into the clip and examined his work, satisfied. The bullets themselves looked odd, silvery and more slender than any other ammunition she'd seen, which granted wasn't a lot. Guns made her nervous.

"That's very nice of you,” Charlie said, politically enough, “but you're not on the lease, and Chessie hasn't invited you. And I can't say I'm impressed with your behavior either.” She sounded like Mom. “Chess, can I raid your closet? These shoes are killing me."

Chess waved a hand, picking up a comb and starting to fight with her hair. “Knock yourself out. But you leave that black cashmere sweater alone."

"You're no fun.” Charlie hauled herself up from the table, gave Ryan one of their mother's patented I-Know-You're-Up-To-No-Good looks, and whisked away into Chess's bedroom, pointedly closing the door behind her.

Ryan met Chess's eyes. “Staying here's safe,” he repeated. “I'm sorry."

Boy, this is turning into a situational comedy. All we need is the wacky gay friend and a laugh track. She sighed, dragging the comb through her hair and leaning against the door. I feel like I could sleep for a week. “I want to ask you something."

"What?” He didn't look toward the window, but she felt his attention shift all the same. Paul had been extremely quiet. Too quiet, as a matter of fact. It didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't happy with this chain of events, despite being rescued. Wonder of wonders, though, he hadn't made a snotty comment since she'd gotten home. Instead, he just kept glancing speculatively at Ryan.

"Those… in the room. Who were they?” It bothers me, you see. It bothers me a LOT. Chess yanked a tangle out of her hair, wincing.

Paul piped up. “Businessman.” He sounded flat and bored, but something in his tone told her he wasn't as blasé as he wanted her to think. “They rented the room out from under me, and I had to stay away, the Inkani were everywhere. I guess they thought he was me. And the hooker—"

"Woman,” Chess corrected. “Woman. Not hooker.” You arrogant son of a bitch.

Paul's shoulders stiffened. “Woman,” he echoed, tonelessly. “Sorry. They might have thought she was you."

Not fucking likely. I'd never be alone in a room with you. Chess dragged the comb through her hair, dropped her eyes. “And the… the boy.” The boy. The one who grew like Michael Jordan on crack. The one who stretched out and produced big-ass claws that looked like his phalange bones were popping out through his fingertips. That one. What about him? “He…"

"He bargained his life to the Inkani for something. In return, he got a soldier demon in him. He was an assassin, Chess. He was coming for you.” Ryan slid the clip into a gun, chambered a round, started in filling another clip. His hands moved easily, habitually, as if he did this all the time.

Maybe he does. “I…” You killed him. You killed him, Ryan, and acted like it was no big deal. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Killing demons I can handle, but people… no. No. “So you've found your partner.” She half-turned, tossed the comb so it landed on the counter, an accurate throw that didn't delight her as much as it should have. “So what now?"

"Paul's called in,” Ryan said steadily, his eyes on his work. “In a couple days the city will be full of Malik. They'll get the Inkani under control and start apprenticing potentials to you, with your permission. The sooner we get more potentials awake and on the track to becoming Golden, the sooner they can start spreading out to other cities and taking them back. The Inkani will try to take you for their Rite of Opening, but they won't get close enough to touch you. If we can get through the next week, it'll be smooth sail—"

"Hold on. I told you, I don't want anything to do with your Order.” They're after my library, dammit, and I won't let them have it.

"They won't take your library,” Ryan said softly. He still stared at the clip, loading it with quick fingers. “I won't let them. And you have to play ball with them one way or the other, Chess. It's a good way to protect yourself. You're not just a skin hunter, you're a Golden. They'll behave themselves. Besides, if you play ball with them they won't hunt me down like a rabid dog."

"Ryan—” Paul's shoulders hunched. He was looking more miserable by the second.

"No.” Ryan's tone was soft but utterly inflexible. “Don't sugarcoat it, Paul. I just broke Rule Number Two for a Drakulein. They'll retire me, and I might as well be dead. I'll be shunned, and I'll die. Separated from the woman I've tied my instincts to, I'll die. I've seen it happen, two Drakul who got too close to Malik researchers. They faded.” He finished loading the clip and examined it, racked it into another gun, chambered a round “Unless she makes a point of retaining me as her bodyguard, I'm doomed."

If my jaw drops any further, it's going to fall off. Doomed? Fade? Die? When was I asked about this? “You're kidding me,” Chess began.

"Stop it,” Paul interrupted. “Just stop. They're not going to retire you. Not if I have anything to say about it.” He stared out the window, still running with stray rivulets of rain; it was one of the patented Jericho City slushers, the beginning of two days of steady, drenching, persistent rain. “You could give me a little credit, goddammit. I know I'm not the best Malik in the world, but you trained me and I'm not going to watch you fade."

He doesn't even sound like he's convinced himself. “Fade? What the hell are we talking about?” Chess's heart gave a strangled thump. “Ryan?"

"He's become attached to you,” Paul snapped. “If they separate him from you, he'll start to fade. You need to learn how to deal with him, Ms. Barnes, or he's going to—"

"Leave her alone.” Ryan's voice, still very soft, sliced through his; the air seemed to chill a whole five degrees. He slid the gun into a holster. “She doesn't understand. The important thing right now is getting her through the next week or so."

A very nasty thought began to worm its way up through Chess's head. “Protective instincts,” she said flatly, raising one eyebrow and fixing Paul with a glare he could probably feel even with his back to her. Shoving me up against the wall and kissing me is not protective behavior. I am sensing a very big problem rearing its ugly head right about now.

"Possessive instincts,” Paul supplied, turning away from the window. “Mating instincts. The Drakulein—"

"Whoa. Hold on. Wait a minute.” Her cheeks certainly couldn't get any hotter. I'm blushing like a teenager. Dammit. “So you're saying… oh. Oh, wow.” That put an entirely new shine on things. “Wow. That's… wow.” Oh, I'm an idiot. Can't I ever say anything right? “Does… I mean, do you have any control over… this sort of thing, Ryan?"

"Enough control.” Ryan's tone was still soft, but it was less scary than it had been. “I'm not all animal, Chess. Your sister's listening behind the door, by the way."

The bedroom door opened and Charlie appeared, wearing Chess's coveted Buddy Holly silkscreened T-shirt. She'd also resurrected a pair of her old jeans, kept at Chess's in case of emergency or sleepover, and had stuffed her feet into a pair of Chess's old Nikes. Thank God we're the same size in shoes, Chess thought. Then her brain ran up against the last few minutes again and stuck like an engine without oil.

"Thai,” Charlie said grimly, with a fierce look that suggested she'd heard all of the last few minutes and had a few problems of her own. “You coming, Chess?"

She nodded, mute. Her cheeks were on fire, and the blush spread its way down her neck. Wow. I'm going to have to think about this one.

Ryan gained his feet in a single movement. “We'll go with you."

"No way,” Charlie said firmly. “She's coming with me, and spending the night at my place. Pack your bag, Chess. We're leaving."

Ryan's eyes narrowed, his shoulders squaring. “You don't understand. The Inkani are out there, and they know she's a potential. Not only that, but they know she's being guarded by a Drakul. They will find her, and when they do you'd better hope I'm there to protect her, goddammit."

Charlie folded her arms, her chin coming up. Her hair was on fire under the lights, and Chess suddenly felt very glad her sister was here. “Listen, mister. I don't know who you think you are, but my sister doesn't need weirdos like you running her life. You haven't done anything but get her in over her head with this demon crap, and it stops here. By the time she comes back you'd better be out of her apartment and observing a respectable distance, or I'll get a restraining order against both you and your collection of playmates. Is that clear enough for you?"

I think that's the first time I've ever seen Ryan speechless. Chess took a deep breath. “Let's just calm down, all right? Charlie, I can't just throw them out, they don't have anywhere to go. I'll head out for a spot of Thai with you, and they can stay here and rest up. When I come back we'll hash everything out. Okay?"

Nobody looked mollified in the slightest. Paul, who had turned away from the window, exchanged a long meaningful look with Ryan, who simply started stuffing items into his bag as if they had personally offended them. The silence stretched, became brittle, and Chess sighed, stalking across the apartment to the table to open her demon-hunting bag, since it had her ID in it. She slipped her knife and her ID into her purse, wincing as she contemplated how cluttered her table was. “Good,” she said. “I'm glad we have this all—"

Ryan's hand closed around her wrist. “Don't go alone. Not after dark, Chess. Please.” He said the last word as if it choked him.

"Get your goddamn hand off her!” Charlie's voice hit a pitch close to Mom's during the great Soccer Leg Break of Chess's seventh-grade year. Ryan simply glanced at her, as if she was a persistent but not terribly noteworthy insect.

Chess studied his face. He dropped his chin, looking down at her, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth a tight line. She could feel the tension return, thrumming through him like the sonic massage of the trolls in their stone underground. “You want me to trust you, right?” she reminded him softly. “I need to get away from this. I need to be normal for a little while."

His jaw turned to stone.

I wonder if he's going to grit his teeth down to nubs. Or shatter them. Christ, my imagination just works too damn well. Chess tried again. “I'll come back tomorrow night. We'll talk."

"They will find you, Chess. It's only a matter of time.” His thumb brushed the underside of her wrist, a slow, even movement that made her breath catch. “I'm not going to let you do this. I can't."

She felt her eyebrows raise, couldn't stop herself. “Let me? I don't think so. You've been shoving me around ever since you showed up, and I've had enough of it.” One step back, her wrist twisting and breaking free of his grip. “You want me to trust you? Back off. I know what I'm doing. I took out a skornac without your help, mister. And I've managed to stay alive so far. I'm going with my sister, and you're going to stay here and wait for me. I'll be back tomorrow night, and if you want anything to do with me at all, you'll sit your silly ass right here and wait for me. You got it?” She hitched her purse up on her shoulder. Screw packing. I'm leaving. I can use Charlie's toothbrush.

"Don't do this.” Did he actually sound pleading? “Don't make me force you."

She turned on her heel, wondering if he'd explode into action. She'd seen just how fast he was, if he was going to try to stop her from leaving it would probably get nasty very quickly, and no amount of Al's kickboxing would stop him. “Charlie? We're leaving."

Charlie's eyes flicked over Chess's shoulder. She steeled herself, but nothing happened. Charlie edged for the door.

"When the Inkani come for you, they won't care who's with you,” Paul said quietly. The words hung in the room. “You're putting your family at risk."

Why do you think I kept all this a secret? It doesn't take a genius to figure out that any demon with enough brains might try to take my family hostage. “If you guys don't shout it to the heavens that I'm your new best friend, I don't think it will be a problem,” Chess lied, and pushed Charlie into the entry hall. “Let's go. I want a nice cold beer when we get to the restaurant."

"Good thing I'm driving.” Her sister sounded strained. “I think I'll order curry tonight. You?"

"You know my heart belongs to phad Thai. Goodnight, Ryan. See you tomorrow."

He didn't respond. She heaved a sigh of relief as her door closed behind her, and she locked it, including the two deadbolts.

"Are you sure it's safe to leave them in there?” Charlie whispered.

"If they wanted my TV they would have taken it before I got home tonight.” Chess replied grimly. “Let's get out of here before anything else happens."