Chapter 15 #2
“My what? Age? Inexperience? He’s seriously mistaken. You’re right. I didn’t make a pact or a promise. I didn’t sign anything, and there was no handshake. But I did ask him, so that might be considered as I owe him something. We didn’t talk about payment…”
Ranth ran a hand through his hair. His lips twitched like he was holding back something that wasn’t worth saying.
“Don’t do that.” I crossed my arms.
“Do what?”
“Give me the ‘I don’t know what I’m talking about’ look.
I’ve banished dozens of demons, hundreds, and I’ve never needed help before, so even if you know stuff I don’t, it doesn’t give you the right to be an astragalus.
” I twisted the knob, and the door opened into the hall where we’d come in.
Fuming, I hiked up my skirt, then climbed the stairs two at a time.
Ranth was following, but at this point, I didn’t care—even though I had to.
Because if what he said was true, I had to protect him.
I turned the handle of Harold’s office, formulating the best way to explain I couldn’t get him a bone or whatever, but when I entered, my brain froze trying to catch up to what I was seeing.
The office was empty except for a file box and two trash bags.
I checked the number on the glass. It was the right door, but it no longer said Consultant underneath. Ranth was coming up the last stair.
“Is he in there?” Ranth asked, peering over my shoulder.
I shook my head.
“Ah, I figured as much.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Come on, we have work to do, and it’s obvious I now have to keep you alive until we figure out if that says what you think it does.” I pointed to his arm.
“We would be better to keep each other alive.”
“Fine. Agreed. But keep in mind this is my home base, and I’m used to dealing with whatever San Francisco can throw at me.”
Ranth’s chin rose, and I held up a hand to stop him from arguing. “Look, let’s get home so I can figure out what we’re going to do. You can ask questions later.”
I started down the stairs and at the first landing glanced up. He was following. I got to the bottom and yanked open the hall door.
The sulfuric scent of demons blasted me.
A portal was about to open in the dim light at the end of the hall. I whipped around and grabbed Ranth, then shoved him toward the entrance.
“Get out of here now. Meet me outside,” I shouted, while rummaging in one of the pouches on my belt I’d designed to hold my emergency tools.
“I need to stay and—”
“Die? That would be a bad idea since it would kill me too. Now, back off as far away from me as you can be.”
Ranth tilted his head and glared, staring me down.
I was too busy planning to deal with him.
My biggest concern was why the portals kept opening.
Our charm had worked from the trip to Rose’s and then down to the Marina.
I assumed we were invisible to Essifers.
Usually, I dealt with demons every couple of months.
Two in a month would be highly unusual. Three in a day? That was apocalyptic.
I chewed on a square of raw dark chocolate, laced with ashwagandha for grounding and a hint of cayenne for extra energy, then rubbed mugwort gel into my skin for added demon protection.
I had the maca root ready. When the demon came through the portal, I’d face it on the plane which interlaced with our world.
Plane walking was more complicated and energy-draining but safer—in the plane, the demons couldn’t affect my mortal body.
Leveling my stance, I mentally readied for the fight. The mugwort gel enhanced my resilience when the portal shifted the air, but the critters didn’t have the same preparation. Ranth had walked down the hall, standing between me and the entrance.
Juke and I had come up with a silver poking device, which marked crashing demons so they couldn’t come back through.
It was basically a folding toothpick made of silver, and the mushroom wrist bands hid them beautifully.
The reason you hear about silver taking out werewolves is not because there are werewolves; there aren’t.
Werewolves were furry demons. But silver worked on them, so did gold and platinum. They resonated at different frequencies and were a hellebore of a lot more expensive. Silver was a good choice for making rods because I could afford to break them. I tried copper, but it was less effective.
Pop.
The sound of the portal echoed in my head as if the pressure change had actually affected my eardrums. I bit down on the maca root and shifted to the plane. Two demons, of a type resembling the Essifers but bigger, phased in and looked around. How the hellebore had they found us?
I rushed them, flipping out the silver pin strapped to my left wrist. Anything I had with me in the physical world shifted to the plane.
The mugwort always made me a little woozy.
I breathed through my mouth as I flicked out the second silver stick and made the keening cry that my mother had taught me.
The demons replied with an ear-splitting screech that usually froze their victim, but I was immune to it.
I speared the first one and slashed upwards.
Its reddish-purple smoke-jaw careened off the side of the portal, and the demon dissipated.
Apparently, Essifers still followed some demon rules.
One down… I gave my full attention to number two, fully aware I had no advantage this time.
The demon rotated like a screw undoing itself and shot to the ceiling where it stuck like a spider.
Then with a keening cry, it poured out red-purple swirls of goo.
I stumbled back, but the substance spread like fire to my boots.
Cold sweat trickled down my back as goo ate through the leather boots with a sizzle.
My feet would be fine. No way demon-goo was getting through my magic-laced socks.
Still, dissolving boots were not ideal. Once the demons disappeared, the boots would be whole again because planar damage wasn’t real-world damage for me—but the concerning bit was the rapidly dissolving planar floor under my feet. That could cause me trouble.
I stepped cautiously sideways, testing the structural integrity while glancing behind me to check on Ranth. It wasn’t the real-world floor, so Ranth should be fine. But his shout turned my blood way colder than the demon’s cry.
The floor rippled in a spiky wave, and a knee-high demon rose out of it in a trail of goo. I jumped sideways to a more stable patch of floor as Ranth ran up a wall, did a flip, shouting something in a language I didn’t know.
The air thickened. My chest tightened as I fought to breathe, and I dropped in a crouch, huffing with the effort.
Silver sticks in front of me, I eyed the demon, focusing on my shallow breathing.
Ranth had gone quiet, but he was still behind me.
I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off my target to check on him.
Going through the floor would likely suck me into the demon portal—that wasn’t an option I could come back from. Calculating the spaces left of the floor, I sprang up with a war cry and bounced from spot to spot in a wild, obstacle course hopscotch dance.
I sliced at the demon as I passed, but the stick missed an inch from its throat.
It leaped to the ceiling as I missed the intact part of the floor and fell through the dissolved surface.
With the sticks extended, I couldn’t grab something to pull me out.
Using the slowed air of the planar space to my advantage, I brought my knees up and threw myself sideways, hitting the wall and sliding down it.
My silver stick sliced through the edge of my Doc Marten as I landed hard on my shoulder.
I leaped up, panting from the energy drain.
The maca flooded my mouth with sweetness, but the effect was waning.
Ranth was wreathed in leafy greenery, and his face glowed with a golden light.
The demon on the ceiling had fixated on him, giving me two seconds to pull myself together.
Springing up, I readied to take out the demon on the ceiling.
Ranth raised his hand. The demon opened its maw, and the ridges down its back rippled like the goo.
It was going to attack Ranth; I couldn’t wait any longer.
Tapping deep into my magic, I leaped up to slice at the demon on the ceiling. Before I could reach it, the demon expanded as if it were made of golden marshmallow fluff and exploded all over me and the hall, like a microwaved pink Peep.
I yelped as I fell out of planar into the real world and spit the maca out onto the now solid floor.
“What the foxgloves was that?” I snapped, wiping clingy demon bits out of my eyes and leaning on the wall to straighten up.
Ranth walked over to me. “I’m going to need a bunch of explanations, but let’s go before they come back.
” I grimaced at my sock peeking through the slice in my boot I’d made myself.
That wasn’t going to heal like planar damage. Dianthus—I loved these boots.
“They won’t come back here for a while,” Ranth replied.
“How do you know?”
“The last one didn’t come through the portal. It retreated, and it will inform the others that I am no longer bound to the bracelet. Though I expect the Essifer sensed that—and that is how they found us. When they come again, we will need to be ready. Are you all right?”
I nodded and did a self-check. I needed real food, and my aching head didn’t help my racing thoughts. Now that he’d been released, he could fight them, but they could also find us again.
He leaned against the wall and pushed hair out of his face. His non-tattooed forearm had four raised blisters each about the size of a quarter.
I cringed, imagining the pain. “You’re hurt. Let me see.” I reached out a hand.
He looked down at his arm. “It’s nothing. An insignificant abrasion.”
“Blisters are not minor.” I dug into my messenger and pulled out my wildcrafted burn salve with myrrh and calendula.
He pressed one of the spots on his forearm and grimaced, then with a shrug, offered his hand to me.
I took his wrist and turned his arm over.
Using two fingers, I lightly smeared a thick layer of salve on top of the skin.
“That must really hurt. It needs to stay moist.”
“Thank you.” Our eyes locked, but the amber-apricot thing hadn’t happened like it had when I was touching him before.
There were still bubbles from the closeness, but maybe whatever Harold had done had released us from the spell that affected our emotions.
That would make things easier, but I wasn’t forgetting the taste of him, or how his body had melted against mine.
There might not be a reason for it, but he was dry timber to my match.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, dropping my attention to the jar. When he was sweet, I almost liked him. I wasn’t sure which was concerning me more, that Ranth had access to whatever power he had shown in the fight, that he could be injured by demons, or that if he died, I would die with him.