She motioned for him to take his seat again as she stepped a few paces away to grab a jewelry tree from atop a credenza that was brightly painted with an Eye of Horus in the middle.
The display was laden with a selection of wristbands of all varieties. Woven fabric. Braided leather. Studded leather. Even twisted plastic strands. Some demons found human chemical magic to be all the fashion rage.
“Pick one.”
His gaze rose from the wristbands to meet Shelejiah’s devious expression. “What is this?”
“Any one of these wristbands will allow you to come and go from the Thracian clouds.”
He reached for a woven band with Indian design in green camouflage hues and started to remove it from the tree.
“Not so fast,” she said. His hand froze in mid-air. “That’s an additional charge.”
The demon’s anger rose as quickly as a geyser shooting toward the sky. Shelejiah was unconcerned.
Through clenched teeth, he said, “What do you want now?”
“Your first born.”
Angry as he was, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Right. Give me the band.”
“As soon as you sign this contract.”
When he looked down at the table, a contract was waiting for signature. It was a single page parchment, inked in calligraphy, with Shelejiah’s seal pressed into blood-colored wax that was still warm.
His eyes jerked back to hers with a question. “You’re not serious.”
She shrugged. “Imagine what I could do if I had a demon who calls me Mom. Of course, I’m serious. If you want her, sign the contract.”
An array of scenarios ran through Quicksilver’s mind. If he signed the contract and Shivaun bore a child, he could kill Shelejiah instead of paying up. Unless there was some sort of compelling magic in the document that would prevent it. He imagined a scene where both he and Shivaun battled the sorceress for the freedom of their child. And on and on. He didn’t like any of the options.
So he did what demons rarely do. He took the direct approach, with jar and hanky in one hand, he grabbed the wristband he wanted with the other and disappeared.
Shelejiah watched as her pet raven landed on the contract and pooped. She sighed. “Well,” she said to the bird. “It was worth a try. He seemed like the sort who’d be stupid enough to fall for it.”
In response, the bird angled his head so he was looking at Shelejiah with one eye and cawed. “Yes. You have been a good bird. For a very long time. But you just pooped the parchment for spite. So now you’re going to need to give me another fifty years as my familiar.”
The bird squawked and ruffled feathers in protest, for all the good it would do.
Once safely in the passes, Quicksilver traveled quickly, power and a dancer’s grace married into motion. Nothing is more delightful to a demon than getting the upper hand of a deal.
He was empowered in the way of a person who sees his dream within reach and wearing the victorious, self-satisfied smile of a person who has already laid hands on their heart’s desire. It didn’t occur to him that self-congratulations were premature. If there had ever been a time when he wanted something and didn’t get it, the event was buried so far in the distant past that it didn’t come to mind.
Rosie looked up when Glen came through the door saying, “What a day I had!” He closed the door, turned around, took in her expression and said, “I have a feeling your day’s been even more interesting.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “I’m not trying to one-up you. But a demon told me the Order’s program of transitioning hunters is beyond insane and that it has the potential to create chaos beyond description.”
“Well. That’s…”
“Not all.”
“Okay.”
“Had a talk with Lally. He says he’s been hanging around me all my life waiting to see if I go psycho and destroy the world.”
Glen blinked slowly then wordlessly headed toward the drawer that held the wine opener.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Monterey
Doo’s time was split between dual pursuits. One was classic rock music. The other was Cassidy Power. He fell more in love with her every day.
The old record guy had indeed suggested some musicians who were either hoping to join a promising band or unhappy with their present situation. The latter might be persuaded to jump ship for the right opportunity.
Cass set up meetings and auditions at the house Doo had dubbed Record House. And Doo was beyond pleased with the harvest of musicians.