Chapter 33
“Well, he can’t be a ghost,” she told Tiffany, just like she’d told Jess, but letting even more of her bafflement come through. “He’s…very physical, for one thing, without any rituals on my part. And the dryad would’ve let me know if a ghost had walked into my yard.”
“A, um, demon?”
“Same deal.” Hazel leaned against the porch railing, letting her eyes unfocus as she stared across the yard.
She’d just called to let Tiffany know she’d sent over the last batch of papers, but her boss had a therapist’s ability to draw out stories, so she’d summed up the situation for the third time, now with more information and even less certainty.
“Even a human might have gotten Bramble’s attention if they were a magician, or personally haunted, or otherwise in active contact with the ethereal. ”
“Good. Making out with demons doesn’t end well. I don’t have to be a medium to know that.” Tiffany hesitated, then gave in to one of her rare moments of curiosity. “Can demons be sexy?”
“Ummm,” said Hazel, glad that Tiffany couldn’t see her blush.
Ligat wasn’t technically a demon, but he wasn’t technically human either—and the less-human bits definitely hadn’t put her off.
She bit her lip and tried not to remember too vividly.
Tiffany would notice if her voice suddenly went breathless.
“Nobody’s really done a comprehensive study, and the legends suggest that at least a few of them can look good, but most really don’t. ”
“How do they tempt people to the dark side, then?”
“If you’re talking to a demon, you don’t generally need a whole lot of temptation. And most people aren’t going to sign away their souls for a single partner, even a really hot one.”
Tiffany snorted. “You’re kidding me.”
“Uh-uh. Look, if Sebastian Stan wanted to sleep with you—”
“I like where this is going.”
“You’d spend a lot of money to fly out and meet him. Maybe you’d make up a story or two to dodge some questions. And maybe you wouldn’t even care that much who else he might have been dating.”
“Sure,” said Tiffany, in a voice that said she knew a but was coming.
“Would you commit mass murder?”
“God. No.” Hazel could practically see Tiffany on the other end of the cellular frequencies, blowing her blond, curly bangs up off her forehead as she exhaled, her brown eyes slightly wide with realization. “They’re that bad, huh?”
“The ones who come to our world do it because it’s not as fun to hurt each other,” said Hazel. She watched a breeze ruffle the new clover down near the trees. “Honestly, if they take on appealing forms, it’s probably less to make deals and more a sort of praying mantis thing, only worse.”
“Ugh.”
“Yeah.”
“So it’s good that you didn’t get involved with one. So I’m right.”
“I was in no danger of getting involved with a demon. I kissed the man once.” Ligat didn’t count, she told herself again, because he wasn’t a demon, and she was already involved with him anyhow, so adding sex didn’t make that much difference, and her brain should shut up and concentrate on finding a way to make her a conduit.
She remembered Ligat raising his head from between her thighs, silver skin gleaming, and her body tightened with lust.
“Maybe he’s one of those Highlanders, like from the TV show.” Tiffany broke into her thoughts, an unknowing act of mercy.
“Those don’t exist.”
“How would you know? Have you stabbed many people who didn’t die?”
“I think that would just make me very bad at stabbing.”
“Well, I didn’t hire you for your ninja skills.” Tiffany cleared her throat. “So…what are you going to do?”
“Honestly?” She stared out at the sprouting plants. “Probably nothing. I guess I could try and track the séance down, or go through the census records for a guy with that name about that age, but he’s not my biggest priority right now.”
“Yeah,” said Tiffany. “How’s…all of that…going?”
“You don’t want to know.”
* * *
Perthrux was vindictive. Ligat knew that intimately and had known it for a long time, and since he’d not only bothered the demon but come close to questioning it—and then apparently suggested a course of action Perthrux violently disliked—he’d expected reprisals.
They came in the form of almost constant errands, boring or tiring when they weren’t dangerous, and sometimes when they were.
While Ligat didn’t need as much rest as a normal person, he was still too living to go without.
When Perthrux released him, often it was as much as he could do to seek his lodgings and lie down.
Anger passed, though, and malice gave way to need. Ligat alone among Perthrux’s servants could interpret mortal behavior and stay for a while on the edges of the physical world. It wasn’t long before the demon sent him back.
The sun had just set when he appeared near Hazel’s garden.
Ligat wasn’t sure what day it was, since time could work unpredictably in the ethereal, but the plants had grown since he’d been there.
He paused at the edge of the trees and gazed across the yard, noting that the house’s windows were dark and Hazel’s automobile wasn’t in the driveway.
The dryad stretched thorny limbs toward him in inquiry, then retracted them, and the little blue dog shimmered into view.
“You’re not exactly winning any watchdog prizes,” said Ligat, as the puppy loped up and sniffed the hem of his robe. He tousled the floppy ears. “You shouldn’t trust people just because they’ve been harmless a few times.”
The dog—Casper, he remembered—answered by sitting up and wagging his tail. “Ridiculous creature,” Ligat said amiably. A car drove down the road toward them, a hum of tires and a sweep of headlights. “I have no treats for you.”
When the automobile turned in to the drive, the dog cocked its head in that direction and started to get up. “I doubt she does either,” Ligat told him, “but by all means. I know where I stand, and—”
Perthrux’s voice filled his head suddenly, raking through his thoughts, and Ligat’s next words turned into an empty gurgle in his throat. Is the medium there?
Yes, Ligat thought back. Not right here in front of me, but on the property.
The demon left him enough of his senses to know that Casper had gotten up, on all four legs, the hair on his back bristling, and was whining quietly.
That was good—not good, not really, but much better than several other potential reactions.
Leave.
What? He forgot the appropriate deference in his astonishment.
The air around him was growing cold faster than the twilight could explain, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.
Perthrux simply contacting him wouldn’t have done that.
Ligat looked toward the driveway, where Hazel was walking around to the back of her car to take out bags.
Something was about to happen, and it wasn’t good.
The demon’s answer was impatient, though not as angry as Ligat would have expected, had he been thinking about it. It’s time I speed matters up, but my puppet won’t stay forever. I can’t have you distracting it. Leave, or I’ll pull you back myself and teach you a lesson about promptness.
Right away, my lord, Ligat sent back, thinking around the ice that suddenly filled his chest and stomach.
Ligat was still too human to kill Hazel in a way that would open the conduit or to forcibly drag her into the ethereal.
Perthrux’s attempt to enter the physical world directly had failed, causing the demon some discomfort.
With overpowering dread, Ligat realized that it had found a middle ground: a creature that could manifest fully, without mortal limitations, however temporary its stay.
That servant would be hideous. It would be powerful. It would rip the vortex open, shredding Hazel’s body and mind in the process, or it would take her back to Perthrux’s lair for further experiments.
Hazel’s car was too far away—if Ligat tried to reach her with a warning, the demon would tire of waiting and yank him back before he could open his mouth. He had maybe a minute before Perthrux grew suspicious.
He kneeled and took Casper’s head between his hands. The dog stared back at him, tense, with the extra edge of sapience death gave to all restless spirits. Ligat could only pray it would be enough.
“Keep Hazel in the house. You understand? In the warded rooms. She can’t leave the wards.” He spoke as distinctly as he could, agonizingly aware of every second it took. “Keep her safe.”
Casper wagged his tail once. Ligat couldn’t wait for another response. He stepped into the ethereal once again, not daring to glance behind him, trying not to hope.