For a Few Demons More(191)

My hair swung into my eyes, and I plopped onto my bed. I put my hand on the glass and froze, trying to remember the word. But it was too late.

I spun where I sat at the soft pop of displaced air, springing to my feet with the mirror in hand. Minias stood in the shadowed darkness between me and the closed door, his funny hat atop his brown curls, that exotic purple robe draped over his wide shoulders, and the glint of bare toes catching the faint light.

“No!” I exclaimed, terrified, and Minias raised his hand. I didn’t wait to see what he was going to say. Hefting my scrying mirror, I swung it at his head.

It connected, pain reverberating up my arm. Minias yelped, and the mirror shattered into three heavy pieces. Wide-eyed, I fell back, shaking my stinging hand and tapping a line.

Ugly words I didn’t understand fell from the demon, and, continuing to backpedal, I made a circle. But it wasn’t set from a drawn line. I knew it wouldn’t stand.

Striding forward, Minias jabbed one finger into my circle, and it fell.

I retreated to kick him, but he caught my foot before it reached him.

Fear iced through me when he didn’t let go, hopping me backward and pushing me onto the bed. “You stupid witch,” he said in disdain, then slapped me.

Stars exploded, and I think I passed out, because the next thing I knew, Minias was bending over me. Gasping, I thrust my palm, jamming his nose. The demon fell back, swearing at me. “Get out!” I exclaimed.

“I’d love to, you asinine witchanderthal,” the demon said, voice muffled by the hand holding his nose. “Will you relax? I’m not going to hurt you unless you keep hitting me.”

My gaze darted to the closed door, and he brought his hand from his nose, glancing at it to see if he was bleeding. He murmured a word of Latin, and a glow from my dresser mirror lightened the predawn gloom. My mouth was dry, and I scooted to the headboard. “Why should I believe you?” My throat hurt as if I’d been yelling, and I held a hand to it.

“You shouldn’t.” Minias looked at his fingers in the new light, then let the hand drop. “You’re the most backward person I know. I’m trying to finish up this arrangement so I can return to my quiet life, and you want to play demon summoner and demon.”

Pulse easing, I flicked my gaze to the door and back to him again. Someone had gone outside, and I hadn’t heard a car start. It had to be Ivy. If she’d been in the church, she would have heard us and come. “I’m safe?” I said softly so my throat wouldn’t hurt, wondering if I could trust him. “We’re in the middle of a deal?”

Minias took a firmer stance, his head canted in exasperation and his hands clasped before him. “I’m trying to finish it up. The way your Were worded it, I’m not done until I’m sure the curse is out of you and you’re back to your usual backward self. And until it is, everyone that was in the room is under a measure of protection. So yes, we are in the middle of a deal.” His gaze went to mine, and I shivered. “But you’re not safe.”

I curled my feet up under me, not liking this at all. “I’m not paying for you to come over here,” I babbled. “I was trying to answer. You didn’t give me enough time to answer.”

“Good Lord!” Minias exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against my dresser. Bottles spilled, and he jerked forward. “It’s only a little imbalance,” he said, fingers fumbling to stand a bottle upright before he turned to ignore the rest, making me think that for a demon he didn’t have much experience in dealing with people. “You make your dates pay for everything, too, don’t you?” he added. “No wonder you can’t keep a boyfriend.”

“Shut up!” I yelled, hurting my throat. Oh, God. Kisten. Piscary had been lying. He had to have been. Otherwise I was going to have to decide if I was above revenge or not. And I wasn’t good at telling myself I couldn’t have something when I wanted it.

Minias’s eyes ran over the lines of my room as I sat on my bed in my underwear and a shirt and tried not to shake. “You have such interesting thoughts,” he said lightly. “No wonder witches are ephemeral. You drive yourself crazy. You should simply do what you want without the soul-searching.” His goat-slitted eyes fixed on me, and I felt my stomach drop. “It will be easier in the long run, Rachel Mariana Morgan.”

My pulse had slowed, and I was starting to believe I was going to survive this. “Rachel is fine,” I said, not liking him saying my middle name.

A single eyebrow rose. “You seem to be all right. Any urges to run under the moon?”