Saved by the Rat (Necromancer)

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Robin

I had no idea what’d brought me back to the Three Rs at eight o’clock at night. Something kept niggling at me, tugging me toward work, and then as I was sitting down to chat about wood stains with my online friends, that tug became an alarm call.

Except the actual alarm notice on my smart watch said everything was quiet.

Which didn’t keep me from ducking out of the chat, jumping in my car, and breaking the speed limit to get back to work.

The warehouse sat there, looking ordinary. Nothing out of place as I pulled into the front lot and parked. Before opening the front door, I decided to walk around the perimeter. And there— “Shit!”

The loading bay door stood open, a gaping mouth inviting me to the dark interior gullet of the slumbering beast. I shook off the creepy fancy. “Why the fuck didn’t the alarm go off?” I was about to call 9-1-1 when a car pulled into the employee lot. The sedan stopped in a back corner under the trees and its lights went out.

I moved deeper into the shadows against the wall, watching, holding my breath.

To my shock, Alaric scrambled out with a small furry dog at his heels. In the still night air, I heard Alaric mutter, “Shit. Someone got here first.”

A high voice from somewhere asked, “One of ours, you think?”

Alaric snapped, “Not a good one, if so.” He sprinted toward the back door, stooped to fumble on the ground for a moment, then slid a key into the lock. The door opened at his touch, but the alarm didn’t sound, never even chimed on my smartwatch. He pulled the door shut behind him and vanished out of sight.

What the hell? I should call the cops!

Common sense said report Alaric and whoever had broken in ahead of him. But the whole thing was weird as hell, and curiosity had always been my biggest sin. I couldn’t manage to be afraid of the man who’d knelt and let me face-fuck him. So I followed, opening the unlocked door and closing it silently behind me. The alarm panel on the wall sat dark and dead. The smell of fried electronics filled the air. Apparently, whoever had come through the loading door had somehow shorted out the whole system without setting it off.

I couldn’t hear Alaric’s footsteps, but I could make out the bobbing gleam of a small greenish flashlight ahead. My knowledge of the store’s layout served me well as I followed him in near darkness.

He and his dog headed straight for my workshop. An instinctive part of me wasn’t surprised, had been drawn that way myself. Although the pull to come here had eased, and now something wanted me to leave. Leave. Immediately and go… somewhere. I ignored that impulse.

What the fuck is Alaric doing?

The glow of his odd flashlight moved through the workshop doorway. I hurried as quietly as I could to catch up.

As I reached the doorway, that high voice said, “Look out! Incoming.”

Alaric extinguished his light.

But I was supposed to be there, it was my space, and I had no fear of the cops. I hit the light switch by the door.

In the harsh glare of the fluorescent fixtures, Alaric stood frozen, five feet away. At his feet, a small— not dog, but rat!— sat on its haunches, peering at me.

I yelped, “Fuck!” instead of the questions crowding my brain.

Alaric said, “Hardly the time. What are you doing here?”

“This is my store. Why are you here?” Before he could answer, I saw that the antique cabinet was missing. In the open space where it had stood was a small paper bag. “And what’s that?”

I hurried over to grab the bag, but before I could close my hand on the paper, Alaric tackled me to the floor. We landed hard, his shoulder in my ribs, ejecting the breath from my chest. I gasped like a dying fish, suddenly aware that he was fifty pounds heavier and much stronger. “Get off,” I choked, struggling to get away. “Let go!”

“Just don’t touch the bag. Okay?”

“Get your hands off me.” I scrambled away on my butt and he let me.

Alaric pushed to his knees, remaining between me and the paper bag.

I pointed at it, annoyed that my hand was shaking. “What is that?”

“I don’t know yet. But it’s— I think it’s magic.”

“‘Think?’” I stared at him. The rat was nowhere to be seen, and I didn’t want to know what Alaric had been doing with a giant rodent. This whole scene felt surreal. “What do you know about magic? Where’s the cabinet?”

“I have no idea. I only got here a few minutes ago.”

That was true enough. Unless he could make things disappear into thin air, he’d have had no chance to spirit the cabinet away. But someone had. I could feel the armoire moving into the distance now, a tug under my breastbone, pulling me off… that way . I turned slowly, feeling like the needle of a compass. “Someone stole it. They went over there.” I pointed. “Who? Why?”

“Over where?” Alaric peered at me from under lowered brows. “What do you mean?”

“I can feel it.” I pivoted a few more degrees, facing the way I needed to go.

Come. Help me.

“It needs me. That way.” I pushed to my feet, eager to follow.

Alaric caught my arm in a firm grip. “Where are you going? What needs you?”

“The cabinet.” Something seemed to be speaking through my lips. “No, the book.”

“Book!” Alaric’s fingers turned to iron on my forearm. “What do you know about a book?”

“The one in the cabinet. The big, dusty one.” Another yank at my core deep inside made me stagger and struggle to get free of his hold. “I have to go!”

Alaric released me but moved between me and the door. “You opened the cabinet and found a book? How?”

“It opened for me. I don’t know.” I tried to think back. The loss of the cabinet, of the book, was like a bee buzzing in my ear, distracting as hell. “The door with the sharp hinge. I cut my finger on it and it opened. Probably the hinge was damaged.”

The high voice said from over by the paper bag, “Blood price. Must’ve been part of the locking spell. Did you cut yourself once, young man, or three times?”

“Three times— fuck! You’re a talking rat.” I stared at the big rodent who sat with its beady eyes fixed on me.

“Harry!” Alaric’s tone sounded shocked.

“He’s deep in this already,” the rat replied. “Got the smell of the blood magic on him, and the cabinet opened for him. Did you touch the book, Forrest? Read it?”

“I couldn’t read it. It wasn’t written in English. I looked at the pictures.” Alaric’s muffled curse at my words couldn’t distract me from the pull of that cabinet. “We need to go get it. Now!” I tried to dodge around Alaric, but he cut me off.

“Go where?”

“There!” I stamped my foot and pointed at the north wall. “The cabinet’s that way. Hurry.”

“Easy, Robin, we will.” He peered over my shoulder at the rat. “What’s the spell in the paper bag, Harry? It feels like a booby trap. We don’t want it to go off and burn down the store.”

That made me pull up short. “Damned fucking right we don’t. It could do that?”

The rat— Harry, I guess— gave the bag a good sniff without touching the brown paper, as Alaric watched intently. “Sleep spell, I think,” Harry said. “Touch the bag, move it, and poof, flat on the floor.”

“But not dead?” Alaric asked.

“Don’t think so. No smell of fire runes, anyhow, so we can come back and deal with it later. If Forrest really can sense the damned cabinet and we’ve any hope of catching up, we need to move.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “This way.” Relief that my store wasn’t going to burn made me lightheaded, or maybe that was the cabinet buzzing in my brain. “Come on! Quickly!” I ducked past Alaric and took off running, dodging around the half-seen shelves and racks as I sprinted for the back.

A brilliant green light flooded the space, startling me. I tripped, went to one knee, and looked back. Alaric, two steps behind me, held a glowing ball of something in his palm. He reached my side and extended a hand down. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I let him haul me to my feet. My knee smarted. “What’s that green?”

“Witchlight. Easy way not to run into stuff in the dark.”

“You’re a sorcerer!” I blinked at him as that fact finally percolated into my brain.

“Well, duh,” the rat said. “Come on. The slower we go, the farther the bastards are ahead of us.”

That reminder got me running again with Alaric at my heels. We burst out the back door. It was Alaric who remembered to close it, and I left the loading bay open. There was nothing important in the store anyway, just the book, needing me, calling…

I tripped and Alaric caught me with a hand under my elbow.

“This way.” He steered me toward his car, dimming the witchlight as we reached the passenger door. “You’re distracted. I’ll drive, you tell me where to go. Here, get in.”

I didn’t argue. Whatever would get me to the book fastest. Although I yelped when Harry leaped in at my feet, bounced with small hard paws to my lap, and then rebounded up to the dashboard.

Alaric laughed, shut my door, and hurried to get behind the wheel. The engine came to life with a much smoother purr than my old Mazda. “Right.” Alaric backed out and turned the car toward the road. “Which way?”

I pointed and he turned left, the closest he could get to my direction. There wasn’t much traffic and he floored the gas. The engine’s purr became a throaty roar. The car leaped forward.

“Who’s going to bail you out if you get pulled over?” the rat asked from the dashboard.

“I’m trusting my luck.” Alaric pulled out around a slower car and powered up a hill. At the next crossroad, he turned right, then left again, following my pointing as my sense of the book wavered between the two.

“Hurry.” I bounced in my seat, fumbling with my seatbelt. I knew jumping out and running cross-country wouldn’t get me there faster, but the bees in my head had begun flitting up and down my nerves. Urgency built behind my breastbone like floodwaters behind a dam. Somewhere in the background, I was freaked out that some weird book had done something to me, and freaked out that Alaric was a sorcerer and I’d fucked a sorcerer… but the front of my brain had no room for anything except finding that book. “Turn again. There.”

Alaric asked Harry, “Anyone we know out this way?”

The rat plastered his paws to the windshield, staring at the darkened landscape, his nose twitching. “Half a dozen, depending how far we go. No one who makes my tail itch.”

“Pity.” Alaric pushed our speed up past eighty.

I leaned forward, the weirdness of a talking rat on the dashboard eclipsed by… by… “There! There, stop, turn around!” I twisted in my seat to keep the long country driveway we’d passed in view. “Alaric, dammit!”

“I hear you.” He pulled off to the side, waited for a truck to pass, then did a three-point turn, cut his headlights, and rolled forward slowly down the shoulder.

“Come on.” I bounced harder in my seat. “They could be doing anything. Destroying it. Burning it.”

Alaric gave me an odd frown, but asked Harry, “Address ring any bells?”

“Not offhand, but I don’t know them all. Be careful and keep your shields up.”

We reached the mailbox, a banal, rusting metal oblong with a street number on the side. Beyond it, a gravel drive led to a sprawling house and a couple of outbuildings. A pickup with an attached U-Haul trailer sat outside the smaller of the outbuildings. Faint light spilled from under the building’s door.

There! The relief I felt was almost as good as sex. The moment Alaric slowed to a stop, I released my belt, shoved the door open, and took off running.

Either Alaric or Harry whispered, “Wait!” behind me but I couldn’t stop my headlong plunge.

I heard a deep-voiced, “Damn,” that had to be Alaric and then he came after me, catching up with ease on his much-longer legs. “Stop,” he hissed under his breath as he drew level with me. “We need a plan.”

“We need the book!”

Alaric wrapped his arms around me and dragged me to a halt. I struggled, the call of the book loud in my head. He muttered in my ear. “Slow down. Be smart about this.”

I’d always prided myself on being clever and that reminder slowed my flight. I stopped resisting as Alaric pulled me to the ground behind a bush.

Ahead of us, Harry whipped around the corner of the shed, barely a disturbance in the shadows. “He’s scouting,” Alaric breathed, fingers digging into my arms. “Give him a moment. I’m a decent sorcerer but it would’ve taken at least two people to carry that cabinet. We need to know what we’re up against.”

I made myself nod, made myself take a few long, deep breaths. I had no clue what I could do against a sorcerer. More information was a good idea.

Harry reappeared out of the weeds inches from my knee. I held back a yelp and pressed my knuckles to my lips. Don’t be ridiculous.

“Found a gap to look inside. Two men in there,” Harry said. “Marcus Barnes and his nephew.”

“Barnes?” Alaric sounded shocked. “He barely has the power to light a candle.”

“That was before a demon got hold of him.”

“Ah. Shit.” Alaric hissed through his teeth. “Powerful demon?”

“Can’t tell. They don’t have the cabinet open yet, for what that’s worth.”

“We need reinforcements, and a necromancer for the demon.” Alaric turned to me. “If I let go of you, will you stay put while I call for help?”

“Of course.” I wasn’t confused enough to ignore the wisdom of that. “How long will it take them?”

“We’ll find out.” Alaric released his grip on my arms and dug out his phone. He hit a contact, waited… “Miriam. It’s Alaric. I located the damned book but a demon-ridden sorcerer grabbed it first. Marcus Barnes. He has his nephew with him. Does that guy have any power?” He paused. “Okay, good. But we still need a necromancer for the demon and I won’t say no to some backup. How fast can you send someone…? We’re off Shrevepoint road— Yeah. Is that Barnes’s address? Sounds right… Okay, we’ll wait for you here.”

Alaric pocketed the phone and turned to me and Harry. “She says fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. Sylvanwood may be even later, but if Miriam, Corbin, and I can restrain the demon, then we can hold him till Sylvanwood can get here and send him back to hell.”

“Real actual Hell? A real demon?” I stared at him.

“More like another dimension of smoke and fire which we call a hell, and dimensional travelers. No deities involved. I’ll explain later. I’m going to put a circle around the shed. Worst comes to worst, I might be able to hold them in there.” Without any better explanation, Alaric scuttled toward the building, staying low to the ground.

When I would’ve followed, Harry grabbed my hand between sharp teeth and growled.

“Okay, okay.” I raised my other hand in surrender and the rat let go.

“He’s busy, doesn’t need you juggling his elbow and giving him away.”

“Busy with…” As I watched, Alaric reached the shed wall and sketched a symbol that glimmered green in the darkness. That one floated to the wall and faded away. The next one he made drifted over to the door and sparked around the edges in deep red before extinguishing.

“Crap,” Harry muttered. “They have the door warded.”

“Warded?”

“A magical spell to keep other sorcerers from opening or crossing it. That red is the demon’s power.”

“So what do we do?” I crept a little closer to the shed, staying under the bushes, and Harry didn’t stop me.

He padded silently beside me and breathed, “We wait for reinforcements and then see if Alaric and Miriam can break the wards. Neither one of ’em is a slouch when it comes to power.”

“Do you do magic?” I’m talking to a rat. The surreal nature of the evening hit me again.

“I help Alaric with his.”

Alaric vanished around the side of the shed, duck-walking, trailing a hand along the siding.

“What’s he doing?”

“Chalking a circle. He’ll have to find a way to complete it around the door, but circles are powerful for containing magic.”

Noises rose from inside the shed, a deep male voice thundering in anger. “What do you mean, no? You don’t say no to me. If you can’t get it open with the axe, then you’ll bleed for me.”

A clang and thud resounded, the impact of metal on hardwood.

That sound vibrated in my chest. Help! Help!

I scrambled to my feet. “They’re breaking it!” Panic gave my sprint wings. Harry leaped at my arm but I batted him away, leaving a shred of sleeve in his jaws. I hit the shed door and yanked it open. Whatever the magic ward was, I felt nothing as I burst through. “Stop! Don’t hurt it!”

Two bearded men wearing flannel and jeans whirled to face me. The younger held an axe in both hands. The older raised his palms and shouted something. A shimmering red wave splashed over me, eye-wateringly bright, somehow smelling of sulfur, and yet it left me untouched. Anger tunneled my vision. Get him!

I grabbed up a length of two-by-two leaning beside the door and swung it like a baseball bat. I was a great shortstop in high school. The end of the wood hit the older guy upside the head with a jarring impact that almost made me drop my weapon. A flash of crimson at the point of impact gave me a moment of terror that I’d killed him, before I realized the red wasn’t blood but his magic somehow blocking the blow an inch from his temple. He staggered, though.

No time to recover! I swung again, following through like I was aiming for the bleachers, and he slipped to one knee. I hit him forehand, backhand. Again. Again. My blows landed on each side of him, hitting that flaring red defense he put up between my weapon and his head. The impacts shivered hard through my palms. He raised his hands at me but that was fatal to his balance. My next stroke landed him on his ass.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the younger man jolt out of his paralysis, raising the axe, coming at me. Then he screamed as Harry leaped in the air and fastened his teeth into flesh, blood spraying. He dropped the axe. I couldn’t spare the time to watch.

Hit the sorcerer. Again. This time, my blow shattered through the older man’s protection and found his temple. His head snapped sideways and he fell.

Again! I landed a hit askew, more on his shoulder than anywhere vulnerable, but I swung back upward and caught the bastard under his chin.

The sorcerer collapsed, sprawled flat, gasping on the floor.

I’d have hit him again, the mist of fury still bright in my eyes, but Alaric shouted, “Enough,” in my ear and grabbed my arm. “Let me get him.”

He leaped past me and knelt, drawing a white chalk line around the flailing man, scrambling on his knees to encircle where the sorcerer lay. Then Alaric completed his circle with a flourish and called out a breakneck string of unfamiliar words. Bright green flared high like a translucent curtain where the white line had been drawn.

I flinched at a thud close behind me. The younger man had managed to shake off Harry and flung him to the floor. Harry landed hard, and staggered, shaking his head. The man turned wild eyes on the glowing green circle, then sprinted out the door clutching his bleeding arm. Harry dashed after him and I heard the man yelp but his thudding footsteps didn’t stop. I made out another yelp, a scream, a thump, and then the sound of a car door and a motor starting. The car receded in a hail of pinging gravel and a more distant squeal of tires.

Harry reappeared in the doorway. “He has a high pain threshold, I’ll give him that. I didn’t taste any magic in him, so I didn’t want to mutilate him to stop him.” He came over and sat at Alaric’s side.

“If he’s just human, we can deal with him later.” Alaric turned to the trapped sorcerer who’d begun moaning and clutching his head. “Barnes, on the other hand, definitely has a demon.”

“Indeed.” Harry and Alaric peered at the green circle with matching intensity.

Despite my curiosity, I was pulled away from the flaring green magic toward the cabinet. A shallow gouge marked one of the front doors. I hope they didn’t harm the book. I knelt in front of it, running my hand over the raw gash, and the door swung open. There inside sat the magical book, its pages seeming to glow in the dusty shed. I reached forward—

Alaric yanked me onto my ass, his fingers digging into my shoulder. I batted at his hand and he grabbed my other arm too, hauling me backward across the floor.

“Let go. Let go!” I swung a punch toward him, a blow that glanced off his arm.

“Stop!”

The word echoed through my chest. For a moment, I stopped— no movement, not even a breath. Then I whirled to stare at him. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t touch that book. Bad enough you touched it once. A book’s not a as bad as a demon, but it’s full of dark magic, bound in human skin flayed off a slave. It’s not safe.”

“Human skin? Ew!” I glanced at the leather covering the thick pages, sitting there… shining… full of magic… desirable— “Crap, I think it’s doing something to me. I want to touch it, help it.”

Alaric wrapped his arms around me and pulled me farther away. “Can you resist? Wait till reinforcements get here?”

“I don’t know.” I thought about that and realized I’d scooted forward a foot while pondering. “Can you make it stop?”

“Not just yet. We have to deal with the demon first.”

“Can you…” I peered around the room, noting how my eyes kept being dragged back to the cabinet, how I’d shifted my weight forward again without meaning to. “Can you do, like, a spell to block it?”

Alaric shook his head. “Not without knowing how the book created its hold on you.”

“Then… could you tie me up, maybe? I don’t like the way it calls me.” A shiver racked my body, but when my shaking was done, I was three feet closer to the book. I scrambled back on my ass, putting my shoulders to the wall.

“I can do that, I suppose.” Alaric scanned the shed, then fetched a coil of extension cord. “Not the best rope, but it should serve. Give me your hands.”

I held them in front of me and watched as his long, competent fingers wound the cord around my wrists and knotted it. The book called to me in a siren song that dulled my eyesight and pushed me to my feet.

Alaric looped the cord through a gap in the wall studs and tied it off out of reach. “That okay?”

Already I regretted my request. I jerked on the cord. “Can you undo it?”

The sound of a vehicle racing up the gravel drive outside made us both turn. Harry scampered out the door, ducking back in a moment later to say, “Miriam.”

“Praise the pigs.” Alaric moved toward the imprisoned sorcerer, who’d made it to his hands and knees.

The sorcerer stared at him, eyes blazing red, and let out a snarl. He lunged at the wall of the circle, slamming his palms on the green, flashes of crimson flaring to black under his hands.

Alaric staggered but the green wall didn’t change. “Give it a rest.” His voice was impressively steady but I saw his hunched shoulders relax when a tall woman strode into the shed, white light glowing at her fingertips.

“What’s going on? Oh. Shit.” She strode up close to where the demon sorcerer had his hands planted and looked him over. “Barnes. I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck you, bitch. So superior. Always telling me how little power I had.” Barnes’s lip curled, the expression progressing until his face warped in a way that seemed inhuman. His voice deepened. “Well, I have power now.”

“Not for long.” The woman turned to Alaric. “Good job finding him and breaking his wards on that door—”

“I didn’t,” Alaric interrupted. “That was Robin.” He gestured my way. “He’s human, so the wards set against sorcerers didn’t stop him. He powered through and broke them. And he brained Barnes with a two-by-four.”

“Two-by-two,” I said, as if that somehow mattered. I’d moved to the limit the cord would allow, yearning toward the cabinet and the book. If I turned around, I could get one step closer yet…

“Why’s he tied up, then?” The woman glared at me.

“The book’s calling him.” Alaric gestured at the open cabinet.

“You opened it?”

“He did—”

A sudden flare of power flashed from the captive sorcerer, red running all around the inside of the green walls. Alaric grunted, swayed, and reached toward the woman.

She captured his flailing hand in hers. “Got you. Here.”

I didn’t see what she did, but the green circle steadied and Alaric muttered, “Thanks.”

“Can you hold him till Sylvanwood gets here?” She didn’t drop her grip.

“If you keep feeding me power, sure. The demon’s strong, but not that far out of my league.”

I jerked on my tether again. “We should make sure the book is safe.”

Alaric and the woman traded frowns. The woman half-turned to me. “My name’s Miriam. You’re Robin?”

I jerked my chin up and almost said, “Mr. Forrest.” But that was foolish, a reaction to her height and power I needed to not give in to. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Well done, Robin. Very well done.” She waved at the demon-guy. “Sounds like he’d have been a lot harder to capture without you. Now I just need one thing.” She sketched something in my direction, a pretty confection of glowing white lace that floated my way. “I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

I nodded, my head swimming. “You. And the book.”

“Me. Just me. The book will wait.”

That sounded wrong in some back part of my brain that wasn’t full of cottony lace. “It doesn’t want to.”

She sketched again and the white lace spread bigger, a translucent veil draping over my head. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” The book had gone blessedly silent.

“Harry.” Miriam eyed the rat. “Can you chew through his rope and lead him safely outside? Easy now?”

“Sure.” Harry rose on his hind legs until he could reach the cord where Alaric had threaded it. Three swift scissors of his teeth left the ends dangling. Harry took the end attached to me in his jaws and ground out, “Follow ’ee.” He headed to the door, his teeth clamped on the cord, and I tagged along obediently.

“Stay with Harry till we come for you, Robin,” Miriam said as I passed through the doorway. Then she turned back to Alaric.

The cool outdoor air felt refreshing on my face. I trudged behind Harry over to a big tree. Part of me wanted to be amused, or maybe outraged, at being led on a leash by a rat. The part in control right now didn’t care, though.

Harry let go of his end and waved a paw at the grass under the tree. “You might as well have a seat.”

“Thanks.” The word floated from my mouth. I sank to the cool grass. “Can you chew through the rest of this?” I held out my hands, not much caring if he released me or not.

Harry tilted his head. “I’d better not, yet. I’ll keep you company, though.” He settled on the grass beside me.

“What comes next?” My tongue had no constraints, so I added, “You’re Alaric’s friend, huh? You think he could ever fall for a short twink with no magic? He has a lot of magic. He shines. And his ass is awesome, and he’s smart, and I like his dick— Ouch!” I frowned down. “You bit me.”

“Nipped. You’re power drunk. Hush up now. You’ll thank me later.”

“Oh.” I did feel like I was drunk on the best champagne. I tilted my head back and watched the stars overhead appear and disappear as the wind ruffled the canopy of leaves. A car drove up and a man and woman got out, rushing toward the shed. I knew I should be curious, but I couldn’t work up the energy.

Noises came from the shed, a shout once, a growl like a captured bear, an inhuman scream that faded and was gone. Harry muttered, “And good riddance,” under his breath.

After a few more minutes, Alaric, the new man, and both women emerged from the shed. Miriam said, “You take care of the rest. I’ll get the hunt underway for Barnes’s nephew.” She crossed the lawn, heading my way, as the man I hadn’t met splashed something from a can onto the sides of the shed. An acrid scent wafted across the grass toward me.

Miriam stopped at my side and asked Harry, “Any problems?”

“Nope. Happy as a clam, docile as a lamb.” He twitched his whiskers.

“We’re almost done. As soon as they light the match, I’ll set him free. You can get the cord off his wrists.”

Harry rose to his haunches in front of me. “Give your hands here then, Robin.”

I held my arms out and he made quick work of freeing me. The smothering cloud of white receded a fraction. A worry nagged at the back of my mind.

Alaric hurried to the other outbuilding next to the shed, found a hose, and turned it on. Water arced out in a glittering spray. He said, “Ready.”

The second woman struck a match and tossed it toward the shed. With a whoomph , flames burst free and rolled up the wood siding and in through the open doorway. The roof tiles caught, crackling and spitting sparks.

“ Save me!” blasted through my fuzzy brain, ripping holes in the white lace.

The book! I shook off my stupor and plunged forward, charging toward the shed, arms outstretched.

Miriam shouted, “Stop!” but the screams of appeal and command from the book were louder.

Alaric grabbed me. I fought as he wrapped me tightly in his arms. He squeezed me harder, plastering me against him until I couldn’t breathe. I tried to hit, tried to head-butt, kicked his shin. He clutched me and turned his head away as my skull thudded on his neck.

And then, from one breath to the next, the screaming in my head was gone. I dropped like an anvil had landed on me. Only Alaric’s hold on my buckling body kept me from hitting the dirt hard.

“Oh! No!” I took a deep breath of smoke-scented air and burst into tears.

Alaric cupped the back of my head and pressed my face to his shoulder, rocking me through three racking sobs. Then, as fast as the fit had come on, my despair faded. I pushed at him and when he clung tight, said, “I’m fine. It’s gone. You can let go.”

“Are you sure?” He eased his grip bit by bit until he could look me in the eyes. Firelight danced in the shine of his gaze. “Really all right?”

“I’m good.” I wiped my face with the back of my wrist.

“Yeah, you sure are.” Alaric winked and smirked, and of all things, that steadied me. Behind him, the shed burned in a pyre of flaming walls. The other man walked around, soaking any spot where embers landed. Sparks rose to the heavens like a giant bonfire.

I shuddered. “You burned the book?”

“Yes. Safest. Trust me.”

“And… the man?” I didn’t understand demons, but Barnes had been a human being. Fire was a horrible death.

“He was already gone. The necromancer sent Barnes back with the demon to the hell it came from.”

“Will he live there?”

Alaric’s lips twisted. “He was dead from the moment he invited a demon in. Only one man ever separated a demon from his victim and saved the host. That was decades ago, and the Weaver lives a long way from here. Once a sorcerer accepts the demon, they’re a dead person walking.”

“Oh.” It was a lot to take in. Everything was. Exhaustion hit me like my own two-by-two to the head. “Can I go home now?”

Behind me, Miriam said, “Let me just clear this.” The last wisps of white cotton cleared from my mind. She peered at me, sketched another symbol in white, then nodded as it faded and was gone. “There, all clear, no lingering traces. Alaric, we’ll clean up here. You take Robin home.”

“Right.” He kept his warm arm across my shoulders and turned me toward his car. “Come on, let’s get you back.”

“And Harry?” I twisted to look around.

“Right under your feet.” The rat gave a high chuckle. “Better get used to that.”

“What do you mean?” Alaric asked before I could.

“I mean, I’m not blind and I’m not a fool. I may not be a seer, but this future’s easy to make out.” Harry hopped onto the hood of the car as we reached it. “Come along, my sorcerer. Let’s get your boyfriend home.”

Alaric snorted. But oddly, neither he nor I corrected Harry as Alaric opened the door, held my elbow until I slumped into the seat, then walked around to start the car and drive me back to my familiar world.