Where Demons Dare. Kim Harrison

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СКАЧАТЬ trickled through me, but Minias didn’t seem to be troubled. Jenks pinched my ear when Tom moved to stand before me, and I jerked out of my reverie.

      “You shouldn’t have turned us down, Morgan,” the witch said, so close I could smell a witch’s characteristic redwood smell rolling off of him. The more magic you practiced, the stronger you smelled, and Tom reeked. I thought of Minias and felt a moment of worry. He might look like a witch, but he would smell like a demon, and they’d seen me let him out. Crap. Think, Rachel. Don’t react, think!

      “Somehow,” Tom said softly, threateningly, “I don’t think your friend Minias is going to have a record. Any record at all. Sort of like a demon?”

      My thoughts scrambled, and I felt more than saw Minias ease up behind me.

      “I’m sure Mr. Bansen will find my papers are in order,” he said, and I shivered when a chill ran through me, pulled into existence from the draft of Jenks’s wings.

      “Holy crap! Minias smells like a witch!” the pixy whispered.

      I took a deep breath, my shoulders relaxing when I found Minias did indeed lack the characteristic burnt-amber scent that clung to all demons. I turned to him in surprise, and the demon shrugged, twisting his hand. It was still in a fist, and my lips parted when I realized he hadn’t opened his fingers since my mother had taken his hand.

      Eyes widening, I spun to my mother to find her beaming. She’d given him an amulet? My mother was crazy, but she was crazy like a fox.

      “Can we go?” I said, knowing Tom was trying to get a good sniff of him as well.

      Tom’s eyes narrowed. Taking my elbow, he pulled me from Minias. “That is a demon.”

      “Prove it. And as you once told me, it’s not against the law to summon demons.”

      His face went ugly. “Maybe not, but you’re responsible for the damage they do.”

      A groan slipped from Jenks, and I felt my face go stiff.

      “She destroyed my store!” the woman wailed. “Who’s going to pay for this! Who?”

      An I.S. officer approached with Minias’s ID, and while Tom held up a finger for me to wait, he talked to him. My mother joined me, and the people outside complained as an officer started to make them move on. Tom was frowning when the man left, and bolstered by his show of bad temper, I smiled cattily. I was going to walk out of here. I knew it.

      “Ms. Morgan,” he said as he slid his wand away. “I have to let you go—”

      “What about the store?” the woman wailed.

      “Can it, Patricia!” my mother said, and Tom grimaced as if he’d eaten a spider.

      “As long as you agree that demons were here because of you,” he added, “and you agree to pay for damages,” he finished, handing Minias his ID back.

      “But it wasn’t my fault.” My gaze scanned the broken shelves and scattered amulets as I tried to add up the potential cost. “Why should I have to pay for it because someone sicced them on me? I didn’t summon them!”

      Tom smiled, and my mother squeezed my elbow. “You’re welcome to come down to the I.S. and file a counter-complaint.”

      Nice. “I’ll accept the damages.” So much for the air conditioner fund. “Come on,” I said, reaching for Minias. “Let’s get out of here.”

      My hand passed right through him. I froze, but I didn’t think anyone had noticed. Glancing at his irate face, I gestured sourly for him to go before me. “After you,” I said, then hesitated. I wasn’t going to do this at the coffeehouse two blocks away. Not with the I.S. buzzing like fairies around a sparrow nest. “My car is about five spots down. It’s the red convertible, and you’re riding in back.”

      Minias’s eyebrows rose. “As you say …,” he murmured, rocking into motion.

      Looking proud and satisfied, my mother snatched my purchases up, linked her arm in mine, and like magic the crowd parted to show us the door.

      “You okay, Jenks?” I questioned when the cool of the night hit us.

      “Just get me in the car,” he said, and I carefully wrapped my scarf about my neck once more to snuggle him in.

      Coffee with my mom and a demon. Yeah, that was a good idea.

       Two

      The coffeehouse was warm, smelling of biscotti and brewing beans. Jenks went to my mom’s shoulder when I loosened my scarf, but I didn’t take it off, not knowing if my neck showed Al’s fingerprints or not. It sure hurt enough to. Al is out? How am I going to shut this down?

      Gently rubbing my neck, I lingered at the door to watch Minias, Jenks, and my mother find their place in line. The heavy-charm detection alarm was glaring a harsh red—responding to Minias most likely—but no one in the crowded place was paying it any mind. It was three days before Halloween, and everyone was trying out their spells.

      The demon looked tall beside my mother as she fidgeted. Her cream-colored leather clutch purse matched her shoes to perfection; I must have gotten my fashion sense from my dad. I knew I had gotten my height from him, putting me several inches taller than my mom and a shade shorter than Minias, even in my boots. And my athletic build had certainly come from my dad. Not that my mom was a slouch, but memories of afternoons at Eden Park and pictures from before he had died reassured me that I was as much my father’s daughter as my mother’s. It made me feel good, thinking that a part of him lived on though he’d been gone twelve years. He’d been a great dad, and I still missed him when my life got out of control. Which was more often than I liked to admit. Behind me, the irritating heavy-charm detector gave a final pulse and went dark.

      Relieved, I eased up behind Minias, making his shoulders stiffen. He’d been markedly quiet in the car, giving me the creeps as he sat rigidly behind me while my mother sat sideways in her seat to watch him. She had disguised the scrutiny by trying to engage him in conversation while I called Ivy and left a message for her to run across the street and warn Ceri that Al was on the loose again. The demon’s ex-familiar didn’t have a phone, which was getting tiresome.

      I was hoping my mother’s light banter had been a ploy to ease the tension and not her usual out-of-touch-with-reality mentality. She and Minias were on a first-name basis now, which I thought was swell. Still, if he had wanted to cause problems, he could have done it half a dozen times between the charm shop and here. He was biding his time, and I felt like a bug on a pin.

      My mother and Jenks edged out of line to ogle the pastries, and when the Were trio ahead of us finished ordering and moved off, Minias stepped forward, glancing indolently at the hanging menu. A man in a business suit behind us huffed impatiently, then went pale and backed up when the demon eyed him through his dark glasses.

      Minias turned back to the counter attendant and smiled. “Latte grande, double espresso, Italian blend. Light on the froth, extra cinnamon. Use whole milk. Not two percent or half-and-half. Whole milk. Put it in porcelain.”

      “We can do that!” the kid behind СКАЧАТЬ