For a Few Demons More(180)

“I don’t,” I said, unclenching my teeth before I gave myself a headache. “Someone in the ever-after owes me. You have a problem with my calling in a favor to get rid of Al?”

His confidence shaken, Trent asked, “What did you give a demon for a favor owed?”

Stomach cramping, I turned to Piscary. “Do we have a deal or not?”

The vampire smiled to make me shudder. “Very much so.”

Al growled, and as Edden held him at gunpoint, I shoved the package down the entire length of the table. “Mazel tov,” I said, depressed, anxious, and jittery.

“It was the gift?” Trent stammered. “You brought it to the wedding?”

“Yup,” I said with a false brightness. I felt sick. Buying Kisten’s and my safety from Piscary was so wrong. But it was either that or deal with a demon, and I’d rather keep my soul clean and let my morals get dingy. I guess. But I felt filthy. This wasn’t who I wanted to be.

“Son of a bitch…” Al said as Piscary’s long fingers stretched forward to take it.

“Rachel!” Jenks shouted from the ceiling. “Get down!”

My breath hissed. Not looking, I dropped. The flat of my arms hit the tile, and I saw Al’s feet move toward me. I rolled under the table to Quen. But Quen was gone.

“Get down!” Edden’s voice bellowed, strong and demanding. I was on my hands and knees under the table, and I tensed for a gunshot. It never came.

A guttural snarl erupted from the back of the room, and I gasped when Al fell into my sight on the floor. Piscary was atop him. The undead vampire had launched himself across the room. He was protecting me. I had paid him to keep me alive, and that’s what he was doing.

Shocked, I scrambled up.

Quen and I had exchanged places. The warrior elf had Trent backed into a corner by the door. Edden was standing before them, gun trained on Al. The Weres were by the back counter, wide-eyed. Ivy was blinking where she sat, looking at her reflection in the distant two-way mirror, oblivious to Skimmer’s attempts to tug her upright and to the back of the room. The pretty vampire’s eyes were black in fear, and her mouth was open in horror. I could smell burnt amber, and I patted at my clothes, looking for damage. But then I saw it. The doorknob had been melted. We weren’t getting out of here anytime soon.

Oh, God. I wanted to live.

The lights were on in the room behind the mirror, and someone was trying to break the glass with a chair. Heart pounding, I backed up to the wall, my gaze on Piscary and Al.

“Jenks! Get back!” I shouted when I saw the sparkle of pixy dust. Snarling, fangs bared, Piscary grappled with Al. The demon was at a severe disadvantage in his witch body, and I went cold when I realized that Piscary had him. Hand covering my neck, I stood in shock as the vampire sank his teeth.

Al howled, managing to get an arm between them, then a knee. With a pained grunt, he tried to shove Piscary away, failing. Tears of remembered fear filled my eyes as the demon went limp with a moan, the vampire saliva starting to work.

My hand clutched my sore upper arm, and I looked away. My gaze found Trent behind Quen. He, too, appeared shocked. I don’t think he knew until this moment the horror Quen and I had endured when we were attacked by an undead. They didn’t care. They existed to feed. The walking and talking simply make it easier for them.

Edden was ashen-faced, but his pointed weapon stayed steady, waiting. The pounding on the mirror had shifted to a pounding on the door.

With a sodden thump, Piscary let Al drop. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, then delicately cleaning even that from himself with a black handkerchief, Piscary rose. His eyes were black. He had just fed, but we were trapped in here with him. Al’s hand lifted, then fell.

The room tensed, and Jenks landed on my shoulder. He was pale, as shocked as the rest of us. “It’s not over, Rache,” he said, his voice frightened. “Get yourself in a circle.”

I drew myself up to tap a line and set an informal circle, but a hint of burnt amber brought my attention to the front of the room. Shit.

A mist was forming over Al. Al wasn’t dead. He was leaving Lee’s body now that it wasn’t useful anymore. Piscary didn’t know it, standing satisfied and full of himself, smiling benevolently. Any circle I was going to make had to have a real beginning to stand against a demon. My bag and its stick of magnetic chalk was on the other side of the table. Hiking up my dress, I crawled up onto the table to jerk my bag to me. Backing into a corner as Piscary advanced, I scrabbled in my bag, fingers fumbling.

“Rache! Hurry up!” Jenks shrilled.

Heart pounding, I found it, yanking it out. It slipped, and I cried out in frustration as it rolled under the table. I dove for it, but Quen got there first, and both our hands landed on it.