Dog-Eared #4
The wizard’s lip twitched, and he rubbed at his stubble.
“I think you wanting to pass as her is worth more than you’re giving me.
Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.
But, Algaliarept, there’s no way you will ever know how she kisses.
You will never be able to be her, no matter how much I tell you. ”
Six days for a coward to find his greed, he thought. “Perhaps you are right.” Motions smooth, he opened the book, angling it so Nick could get a glimpse—and nothing more. “The cost has gone up. Twelve hours for each answered question, provided you answer them to my satisfaction.”
Almost had him, and his need to avenge his damaged library swelled.
Nick shifted from foot to foot in indecision. “Okay,” he finally said. “What do you want to know? Within reason.”
A thrill sparked through him, hidden behind a twitch of his coattails. Nick would want it for two days, bare minimum. Best to bait the trap with trifles. “Coffee. Does she have her coffee before or after she gets dressed and her pixy vermin braids her hair?”
Nick licked his lips, his gaze on the door making Al wonder if Rachel had just left. “Before,” Nick said softly. “Unless she has to leave, and then it’s after.” He held out his hand. “That’s enough. If I want it longer, I’ll call you.”
Al shook his head. “Two questions. I can’t return until dark to retrieve it. Besides, you’re going to want at least two days to copy the text. As before, a picture will show nothing, and there are countless spells here.” He hesitated. “Favorite curse word?”
“Crap on toast,” Nick blurted. “Unless she’s mad at Jenks, and then it’s damn it back to the Turn.”
“Mmmm.” Al brushed his sleeve clean, as if unimpressed. “Pet name for her pixy?”
“For a second full day?” Nick questioned, licking his lips when Al nodded. “Okay. She has no pet name for him. I don’t know why, but she has a lot of respect for him.”
Al’s jaw tightened as he remembered the pixy scoring on his ear.
“Perhaps it is because he’s not a coward, freely taking his vengeance upon those who threaten what’s dear to him.
” He let the book droop to show Nick a page.
“When she’s spelling, does she have coffee at hand?
Bite the end of her pencil? I need her quirks. ”
Nick hesitated, clearly reluctant. But his eye twitched when Al snapped the book shut, and the demon patiently waited, smiling when Nick bowed his head.
Four days would give Nick time to copy almost everything cover to cover—and they both knew it.
The exercise would be good for when he had him—body and soul.
“No coffee when she’s spelling,” he said softly. “She’s paranoid about contamination.”
“It’s good practice,” Al said, impressed despite himself. She would make an excellent replacement for Ceri—in time. Nearly there… he thought, hiding his anticipation. Revenge was not best served cold. It was best not served at all, but taken. “Last question, Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos.”
Nick backed up at his lascivious tone, already shaking his head. “I’m not telling you anything about sex, so forget it.”
“Oh, Nicky. You’ve already given me more than I need,” he lied coaxingly. “Indulge my curiosity. Is she a moaner or silent? Aggressive or passive? Does she find a false comfort in the afterglow or fall asleep? I want details. They will make her nights with me so much more enjoyable—for me.”
The wizard’s eyes were bright with defiance. “I’m not giving you that. Four days for four aspects of her. Leave the book as agreed, or I own you.”
Al glanced at the book as if reluctant. It had cost him, but if he was right, he’d have what he wanted and his revenge for his damaged library, both. “As you say. But before you banish me, if you tell me what I want to know, you can keep the book. Forever.”
A thrill jolted him when Nick visibly hesitated. Got you, you little pissant.
“So rare a tome…” Al crooned, paging through the book. “So finite. It’s one of Newt’s. That is how much I want to know about our little itchy witch.” Again he snapped the book shut, making Nick jump. “Or do you think you will find yourself one night with my legs wrapped around you?”
Nick’s lip twitched. “I’d know the difference.”
Al shrugged, waiting.
“You’ll give me the book? Forever. Say it.”
“It is already yours.” Al dropped the book with a loud pop. “But the details must be commensurate with the value of the book, or I leave with it and you get nothing.”
Again Nick looked at his door, guilt flashing across him until he visibly shoved it aside, abandoning it like a melted ice cream cone. “She’s more adventuresome than aggressive. Playful? Mostly silent unless she can’t help it. She enjoys the novel, but always in good taste.”
A flicker of masculine pride flashed over Nick, irritating Al. “Does she engage the ley lines?” Al asked, and Nick’s man-pride vanished.
“No, but—”
“She would if you weren’t afraid,” Al guessed, knowing he was right when Nick flushed. “Excellent. Who falls asleep first?” He waited, breathless. He had lost another book, but the information would be useful. Very useful.
“It’s always been me,” Nick said, head down as if only now realizing what a poor excuse of a lover he was. “I fell asleep last time while she was in the shower,” he added as if seeking forgiveness.
Al’s lip curled in an ugly smile. Revenge was indeed sweeter for taking its time—the instant of weightlessness at the top of a swing, the catching of your breath when you see a conquest across the room. “Cleanliness is next to godliness,” he muttered.
“I’ve told you enough.” Nick stood before him, a somewhat panicked look on his face. “That book is mine. Forever. Say it before I banish you.” He hesitated. “I’m never going to summon you again.”
Al glanced down at the book at his feet.
Oh, if only that were true, you might survive me.
“This book is yours,” he said, a delighted shiver passing through him.
“But I warn you. Do not damage it. Understand? It won’t take kindly to abuse.
That is your only warning.” He took a slow breath, knowing Newt was watching this through his scrying mirror.
She would be his witness if the wizard should call foul.
Demons did, after all, have to play by the rules. “Say it.”
“Don’t damage the book. Fine.” Nick took a breath. “Algaliarept, I banish you to the ever-after, to where you will stay until summoned again. Leave now, and go there directly.”
“A most secure banishment.” Al made a sarcastic, courtly bow before letting the ancient elven curse seize him in a scintillating shower of silver sparks.
Anticipation was a ribbon of heat, tempered by the cost of his revenge.
Leaving a sacrificial book in reality did not sit well with him, but he was not a cheat.
His reputation would not be called into question.
Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos had gotten fair compensation for his information.
What he did with it after was the beauty of the scheme.
Nick was clever enough to know the value of such a priceless artifact and yet idiot enough to trigger the spell Newt had put on it.
All he had to do now was sit back and watch.
A delighted tremor shook the last of the energy from him as he reappeared in his library.
“Let go! Let go of me!”
Al spun at Ceri’s cry, brow furrowed upon seeing Newt holding the terrified familiar by the arm.
Ceri’s usual finery was gone, and his guilt was a quick flash at the reminder of their agreement.
Newt had already dressed Ceri in an insultingly homespun smock.
Which raised the question of what Ceri was upset about: Newt’s hold on her, or her new outfit.
“It’s not finished, Newt!” Al bellowed, and the demon let go, chagrined. But only for a moment.
“You agreed that she was mine,” Newt demanded, and Al winced, having wanted to break the news to Ceri gently.
“Gally!” Ceri backed up, her arms wrapped around herself. The look of betrayal on her face went right to his gut and twisted. “You didn’t.”
“Not until the wizard triggers the spell.” A wave of burnt amber rose from him as he fluffed his lace in agitation.
Annoyed, Al stomped to where his scrying mirror lay on the table, as Ceri had left it.
“He may not.” Shoulders hunched, he sat down and pulled the mirror closer.
He wouldn’t look at her. Ignore it, and it never happened.
Bare feet scuffing, Ceri retreated until her back hit the wall. “No. I can’t do that again. Gally. Please. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
Newt laughed, the cheerful sound striking Al as wrong in the tense air.
Motions dangerously sensuous, she came to stand over the table and looked down.
Nicolas Gregory Sparagmos looked back at them from the mirror, his focus distant as he thumbed through the pages of the book, oblivious to the fact that it had been spelled to serve as a two-way mirror—among other things.
Curious despite her fear, Ceri inched closer, too. “You made the book into a visual portal? Why?”
“Because revenge feels better when you can see it,” he muttered.
“Gally…”
Her voice was a thin whisper, and guilt finally pulled his eyes up. It might be hours before Nick damaged the book. But he would.
“Gally, you promised you’d release me.”
She was kneeling at his feet, her trembling hands on his knees. “I will,” he said brusquely. “You are being loaned. Nothing more. You still belong to me.”
Anger flickered, returning her to her original magnificence. “You don’t want me anymore. Admit it. I bore you.”
His eye twitched. In the mirror, Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos bit the end of a pencil and turned a page. “I do want you. But I could not repair the book and buy a curse from Newt without giving her something.”
Ceri gasped, jerking her touch from him. “You care more about your books than me!”
He was silent. Across from him, Newt cleared her throat and sat down.
“You are foul.” Ceri stood, pale and shaking. “Unclean and heartless. You know what she will do to me, and you’d rather have a book on your shelf!”
Al clenched his jaw, uncomfortable with Newt hearing all of this. “You have a fine enough touch to repair her memory, Ceri. It’s my fault that I taught you so well.”
“Your fault!” The elf backed up, horrified. “You want me to help repair her memory? She’s been made ignorant for a reason. Gally, you don’t know.”
“I do know!” he thundered, and across from him, Newt settled deeper into the cushions, one finger pulling the mirror closer as if they weren’t talking about her.
“And if I deem it time for the demons to stop hiding in their caves and take back what’s ours, you will do what I tell you to do, and do it well!
Newt led us to our freedom once before. It’s time for her to remember so she can do it again! ”
Newt’s attention flicked up from the mirror. “I did?”
She had, and Al stood, suddenly nervous at the memory of what Newt was capable of when she had her back to the wall—and was pissed.
Ceri shook her head, eyes wide in fear. “You aren’t captive. I am.”
Anger pulsed through him. “Do I look free to you?” he shouted, and her head bowed to try to hide a trace of revenge-ridden satisfaction.
He was not free. None of them were, trapped within this hell created by the waste of a millennia-long war. It had been Ceri’s kin who had imprisoned them here, slipping the snare the demons had laid for them to escape to reality.
Perhaps this is a mistake… Al mused, drawn to her defiance, intrigued by what might lie under it. Elves were as powerful as demons when all things were equal. But nothing had been equal in several thousand years. “Newt—”
“Look! Look! He did it! He invoked the curse!” Newt crowed.
Hunched, Ceri backed away, terrified.
Al’s attention jerked to the mirror, where Nick was leafing through the pages in disbelief. The spell he’d triggered turned them to a blank nothing. “Dog-eared my book again, did you?” Al said, the warm glow of satisfaction finding him. “Use a damned sticky note like a respectable person.”
The vision through the mirror shifted wildly as Nick threw the blank book at the wall, the image settling to see Nick, now upside down as he stomped away.
Al chuckled and reached for his tea. “If you don’t know the value of a book, Nicky, you shouldn’t have any.”
Some days were better than others, and this felt like a large step closer to Rachel Mariana Morgan.
And Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos? Well, it was doubtful that the little wizard would ever dog-ear another book again.
In his experience, revenge was always worth the cost to realize it. Today proved it.
The tea was bitter. Eyes rolling, Al set it down. “Ceri? A new pot of tea for Newt and me to celebrate with!” he called merrily.
But there was no answer, and he looked up into silence, realizing that both she and Newt were gone. His breath of protest caught…and then he let it out, his mood crashing. Newt hadn’t even given him a moment to say goodbye.
“Just as well,” he lied. Flustered, he pushed back into his cushions with his bitter tea. It was worth it, he thought.
But as the silence grew and the scent of lilacs faded, he wondered if this time…the cost had been too much.