American Demon - Kim Harrison Page 0,101

to me would spread through her like a virus, killing her. The Goddess might be all-powerful, but her mystics were the strength behind the throne, and what they wanted, they got. Not me. Not me . . .

“Rachel, call him!” Trent shouted, and I spun the ring on my finger.

Hodin! I shouted into my thoughts. I am covered in mystics! Fix this!

But he didn’t answer. Terrified, I stared at Trent, a muffled curse slipping from him when he tried to touch my shoulder and jerked his hand back. His hair was beginning to float as more mystics gathered. I could feel him shunting the extra energy back to the line, but the mystics only came back with more. Line energy was filling the room with nowhere to go.

Zack stared from the couch as large oily tears spilled from Bis. Trent, though, wasn’t panicking, and I tried to stifle my own fear. They weren’t talking to me yet. I was still sane. Hodin! I shouted in my mind, spinning the ring again. And still he didn’t show. Now, Hodin! I shouted into my thoughts. Or the deal is off and I tell everyone about you!

My heart pounded as, with a pop of air, Hodin snapped into existence behind Trent. “Good Goddess, I was busy,” the demon snarled, clearly unhappy. “Did you imagine a mystic?”

Trent shifted out of the way, his lips pressed in anger. When Hodin saw me standing there, his face went ashen. “Negare . . . ,” he whispered, horror lighting through him, and my throat tightened. “I thought you were exaggerating. This is . . . Why are they focused on you? Even if you treat with the Goddess, they shouldn’t be doing . . . this!”

“Because I taught them how to comprehend life made of mass,” I whispered, and Hodin went even more pale. “They like it better than life made of energy.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” Bis said from across the room, afraid to get closer as he began to cry in earnest. “I’m sorry.” He beat his wings at nothing we could see. “Go away. Just go away!”

But the mystics didn’t, and I blinked, seeing stars. Don’t start talking to me. Please.

“Fix what you broke,” Trent demanded, and Hodin ripped his gaze from me.

“Ahh . . .” The demon spun in a tight circle, scanning Trent’s upper rooms in a glance. “Rachel, come here,” he said, taking the two steps down into Trent’s informal living room and with a touch turned Trent’s lead crystal coffee table to slate. “I’m not in my spelling clothes,” he murmured as he patted his pockets.

“Chalk?” Trent offered, taking a piece of magnetic chalk from his pocket and tossing it across the room. He shadowed me, hands outstretched, afraid to touch me as I made my slow way to Hodin. It felt as if I were stepping on sparkles, mystics squishing out from between me and the floor. It was getting worse as the word went out.

“Bis.” Brow furrowed, Hodin quickly sketched the initial pentagon. “Come here. Do you remember the mess Newt made of her soul signature?”

“It’s burned into my brain,” the little gargoyle sobbed, and I felt his heart breaking as he flew across the room to land atop the table. He’d wanted this so bad, and now it was going to be taken away again. “Rachel, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. My heart was breaking, too, but I was scared, and I felt overly full as I wobbled down the two steps into the living room, as if I might spill over if I leaned too far. Back stiff, I sat on the edge of the chair, the bells jingling as I clasped my hands in my lap. “Hurry.”

“Can you do this any faster?” Trent said as he made a fist and shook sparkles from his knuckles. “They’re calling their friends.”

“This isn’t textbook,” Hodin said, then blanched as he looked up from the glyph he’d sketched. “Um, you don’t happen to still have your candle?”

“Here,” I said, fingers numb and fumbling as I took it from my pocket.

“That will help.” Exhaling in relief, Hodin rolled the lumpy candle, still warm from my pocket, between his palms before he set it in the center, where all the lines crossed. “Simper reformanda. Solus ipse,” he said, setting and lighting the center candle in one ill-advised gesture.

I was never going to be free of them, and my chest hurt.

“Okay, here we go. I’ve never tried it without the supporting candles. Obscurum per

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