“Trenton Aloysius Kalamack, are you jealous?” I said playfully as I put my ring on.
“Damn straight I am,” he admitted, the rims of his tall ears red.
Smiling, I slid closer until our thighs touched. “He, ah, knows how to adjust how a soul expresses its aura. He offered to tweak mine so the baku won’t target me. I could get some sleep.”
“Huh. I thought auras were female-demon things.” Trent went still, worry pinching his brow. “You know . . . if he put it back to your original expression, Bis could teach you how to jump the lines,” he said hesitantly.
“Sure, and maybe the mystics could find me,” I finished for him. “I already told him no, which was why he gave me the ring in case I changed my mind.” I slumped, depressed. “I want to talk to Al about it first. Get his opinion.” Something that might not happen now. Not Al, I thought, shoving the panic down. He couldn’t die. Not after surviving everything else.
Everyone who becomes important to me dies.
“Ah, Rachel, can this demon change your aura a second time if the mystics are still looking for you?”
I forced a smile so Trent wouldn’t know how much this hurt. Damn it, Hodin. What is with you and Al? “I’d think so. It’s burning me up, Trent,” I said, and he took my hand, his fingers lacing through mine, grounding me. “The little snot could change Al’s soul same as mine, and he won’t. Selfish, pigheaded moss wipe.” I gave in and sniffed. So I was upset. I had a right to be. “It’s not even a matter of payment. He won’t do it.”
“You, ah, do realize that if you watched him change your aura, you and Bis could probably change Al’s, too.”
My head jerked up, and I stared at Trent, elation pulling me straight. “Trent, I love you,” I said, pulling him close for an exuberant kiss. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Rachel, about the Goddess—,” he said, but I’d already pushed back and was twisting the ring on my finger.
“I won’t do it if it can’t be reversed,” I said as I stood, scanning the room for any sign of the demon, but there was nothing. My eyes narrowed, and my lips pressed. Head down, I spun the ring again, going widdershins this time. Still nothing.
“He’s not coming,” Trent said, and I huffed at his obvious relief.
“You mother pus bucket of a lame-ass demon!” I shouted, tired and cranky and feeling mean. “You are a cowardly ball of spider snot!”
“Maybe the spell went bad?” Trent reached out, and I sidled away, not wanting to be soothed.
“It’s not bad,” I almost snapped. “He just doesn’t want to show!” Ticked, I pulled the ring off and stuffed it in my pocket.
“Ah, how about some more coffee?” Trent asked, and the sound of plates clinking rose.
“Sure.” Angry, I fell back onto the couch as Trent gathered everything but our cups and headed up the stairs. The sound of his steps grew faint, and I stared at the steaming pool and wiped a tear of frustration away. I wasn’t going to cry. “Cowardly ass demon,” I whispered, “you’ve spent too much time as a crow.”
Then I frowned, pulling myself up and wiping my eyes at the clatter of pixy wings. I knew better than to shout. Jenks could hear me half a county away. The last thing I needed was him trying to make me feel better with his lame-ass dad jokes, heavy on the vulgarity.
But it wasn’t Jenks who pulled to a black-sparkle halt over the stacked demon books. It wasn’t Jumoke, either, though the pixy facing me had the same dark curling hair. Jumoke could never have afforded the glitter of black gold woven into the flowing robe bound tight at his waist and fluttering in the breeze from his wings.
“Hodin?” I said, recognizing him. “Have you been here all the time? Damn it, I told you to stop spying on me.”
Hodin darted up and I pressed back into the couch. “I’m not spying on you. And I’m not a cowardly ball of spider snot,” the pixy-demon said, hovering just before my nose. “Say it.”
“You are not a cowardly ball of spider snot,” I blurted, then looked up at the third floor, where Trent had gone, and lowered my voice. “If you shift my aura, can you shift it back?”
Hodin the pixy sniffed, turning in midair and rising as I’d seen Jenks do a hundred times before.