The Trouble with Demons Page 4

  We both just looked at him. Piaras was normally the nonviolent sort, but was clearly entertaining thoughts about his new friend and spellsinging classmate.

  “I’ve never been arrested,” I told him. I didn’t mention that the Benares family had the best lawyers in the seven kingdoms on retainer. That little benefit alone had kept my bacon out of the clink at least twice. Not that I had been guilty of anything; well, not exactly, but other people had thought otherwise. Kind of like today, my inner pessimist reminded me.

  I told my inner pessimist to shut up. “You’re looking quite at home here,” I told Talon.

  The goblin shrugged. “I’ve had a few unfortunate misunderstandings with watchers in my time.”

  Considering that Talon’s time only amounted to about nineteen years, those must have been some misunderstandings. He was slender and sleekly muscled with waist-length black hair. His silvery gray skin was lighter than normal for a pure-blooded goblin, which Talon most definitely was not. His aquamarine eyes were from his mother, an elf. Tam liked elves, Tam liked me, and Talon was the living proof that I wasn’t the only elf who Tam had liked.

  When the boys had given their statements, Sedge had asked them the usual questions, but not the one I expected him to. I was glad he didn’t, though my inner pessimist wondered why he hadn’t. I wondered, too, but I wasn’t about to turn down what could amount to a gift on a silver platter.

  Piaras and Talon had taken on a demon that a troop of Guardians couldn’t stop, and I had only been able to bottle him with Tam’s help—a dark mage, highly trained in black magic. Piaras and Talon were too young to be highly trained in anything, yet they’d held that demon until Tam and I could take control of it. What they had was natural talent: raw, powerful, and dangerous. That kind of talent also got you noticed by people you didn’t want to have notice you.

  “The two of you worked well together,” I said quietly. Piaras and I weren’t the only elves in the room. Some of the watchers were, too. Elven ears did more than just look good.

  Talon shrugged. Piaras didn’t say a word.

  “You’ve been reading new spellsongs again, haven’t you?” I asked Piaras.

  His hesitation told me everything I needed to know.

  “A few,” he admitted.

  I swore silently.

  Piaras wanted to be a Guardian more than anything and was studying with Maestro Ronan Cayle, a legend among spellsinging masters. When Tam and I had joined forces to save those six lives last week, Piaras had destroyed some nasty magical beasties before they could destroy us. He’d used a spellsong that was damned near suicidal for someone of his age and inexperience to attempt. He’d seen it once in a spellsong book, read it, and had instantly memorized it. He’d gambled and won—that time. Today he’d gambled again, and if Tam and I hadn’t been able to take that demon from him, this time he would have lost.

  I took a breath and silently counted backward from ten. It took all the way to one before I could trust myself to talk without yelling. “That was quite a risk the two of you took.” My voice came out amazingly calm. If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have been impressed.

  I saw Piaras’s jaw clench under a faint shadow of stubble. Jeez, the kid had stubble; when had that happened?

  “Would you have had us do nothing?” His voice was tight.

  “No, I would not have had you do nothing.” I took another breath and let it out slowly. I’d better say what I needed to say quickly, because calm and I were about to part ways. “That’s not what I mean—at least not entirely. You acted when no one else would and stood your ground when everyone ran. Both of you were very brave.” I paused and resisted the urge to grit my teeth. “You also had no idea what you were latching on to, but you grabbed it anyway, and neither one of you were trained to handle it.”

  Piaras drew breath to retort, and I quickly held up my hand. “I’m not saying what you did was wrong. You have the skill, but not the experience. It would—”

  Talon interrupted. “It would have been better if we’d just sat there, while that thing mauled its way around the Quad?”

  I turned on him. My calm was officially gone. I held my thumb and forefinger a hairbreadth apart in front of Talon’s face. “The two of you came this close to getting torn to shreds! Your father just found you, and he doesn’t want to lose you. Do you have any idea what he has been through to protect you since you got here?”

  The normally cocky Talon looked taken aback. You’d think I’d slapped him. A couple of the watchers were suddenly interested in our conversation. I glared at them until they found something else to do.

  “No.” Talon’s voice was subdued, but only slightly. Teenage defiance still seethed beneath the surface. “He didn’t tell me.”

  I leaned back in my chair, blew out my breath, and closed my eyes. “And he probably won’t.” Tired had surrendered to exhausted. “He wouldn’t want you to worry. Because he loves you.”

  When Talon didn’t respond, I opened one eye and looked at him. “He hasn’t told you that, either, has he?” I asked wearily.

  “Not exactly.”

  My elbow was resting on the chair arm, and I dropped my head onto my upraised hand. I snorted. “Not exactly.” I shook my head. “Men.” I didn’t lift my head off my hand; it felt too good to be resting on something. I turned it about an inch and I could see Piaras just fine.

  His face was a shade or two short of a full, blazing blush. “I know you do.” His words tumbled out in a rush. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  I grinned slowly. “What? You don’t want me saying the ‘L’ word in public?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” He looked around uncomfortably.

  “At least not here.”

  I sat back and crossed my arms. “Okay then, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me where and how you picked up what you did in the Quad, and I won’t yell ‘I love you!’ and plant a big, wet, sloppy kiss on your forehead in front of half the watchers on Mid.”

  “I told you; I read it in a spellsong book.”

  “Does Ronan Cayle know about your extracurricular reading?”

  Piaras hesitated, then in the span of two seconds, he winced, grimaced, and looked queasy, as though what he was about to tell me was the last thing he wanted to say.

  “Yes, he does. It was part of a lesson.”

  I blinked. “What?” My voice was quiet, the kind of quiet that said Ronan better be glad he wasn’t in the room with me right now.

  Piaras turned to face me and lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “Raine, I may be the age of a first-year student, but I’ve long known what they’re just now learning. Maestro Cayle did some testing with me to determine what level of study I should start at—”

  Now I was the one who felt queasy. “And what I saw today was it.”

  Piaras nodded. “I’ve been working on a confinement spellsong for the past two days in class. One of the things it works on is demons.”

  “And after only two lessons you used it today.”

  “When I saw that thing fly into the Quad, I had to do something.”

  I froze. “Wait, you saw it fly in? It didn’t materialize until it snatched up Katelyn.”

  Piaras’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I could see it.” He leaned forward and looked around me at Talon. “Could you see it?”

  “I heard it.” The goblin wrinkled his nose. “I sure as hell could smell it. But no, until it popped up over our heads, I couldn’t see it.”

  “Vegard couldn’t even see it,” I told Piaras. “And I could only see it because . . .” I didn’t want to finish that sentence, at least not out loud. I didn’t know it for sure, but I strongly suspected that my demon-sighting ability was the Saghred’s doing. I had a link with the Saghred; Piaras didn’t. So what did Piaras have that a senior Guardian, a highly trained, elite magical warrior, didn’t?

  Piaras turned his face toward me and away from the squad room. “You think you could see it because of the you-know-
what?” His voice was barely audible.

  “I suspect so, yes,” I told him. “And you seeing it is probably just another talent you didn’t know you had.” I didn’t believe it for a second, but I didn’t want Piaras thinking otherwise.

  And speaking of manifesting new talents, there was the not-so-small matter of Talon needing to come clean with his father.

  “Does Tam know you can do what you did?”

  Talon winced. “I think he’s starting to suspect there’s more to me than meets the eye. Are you going to tell him what happened?”

  “No, I’m not. Unless you don’t do it first.”

  “But—”

  “Talon, there were witnesses,” I told him point-blank. “Hundreds of them. Tam will find out, if he hasn’t already.”

  Talon was a half-breed, and that was reason enough for the old blood of both races to despise who he was, what he was, and the very fact that he existed. The kind of power he’d thrown around today wasn’t about to change anyone’s mind. Talon was probably in more danger than he’d ever been in his young life—and the kid didn’t have a clue. He had to know there’d be rumblings, but not that some of the Conclave would be calling for his blood—and his head. Especially considering who and what his father was.

  Talon thunked his head against the back of his chair and hissed a chain of obscenities in Goblin. I had to admit, if you needed to do any quality swearing, Goblin was the language to use.

  Then Talon turned on the charm and grinned slyly, fangs peeking into view. “You of all people should know what a burden it is to be gorgeous and a magical prodigy. People just don’t understand.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I said blandly. “Are you going to tell Tam?”

  The kid’s grin widened. “I’ll tell him if you’ll give me that big, wet, sloppy kiss.”

  “No kiss, and you’ll tell him anyway.”

  His aqua eyes glittered devilishly. Damn, but he looked like Tam.

  “You’re no fun,” he told me.

  “Yeah, kid, that’s the burden I carry.”

  Phaelan came out of Sedge Rinker’s office then and slouched in a chair next to Piaras. His body language said he was calm and confident. The twitch in his left eyelid said otherwise. My cousin, the scourge of the seas of seven kingdoms, was in the same room with at least fifty sworn officers of the law. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t broken any laws today (at least not that I knew of). When your daily life was steeped in as much criminal activity as Phaelan’s was, there was always someone somewhere who wanted your neck in a noose for something. His eyes flicked to a bulletin board covered with wanted posters. He mouthed an obscenity and quickly looked away.

  I looked at the board. Yep, one of them was Phaelan. I’d seen a lot of wanted posters of my cousin. Unlike most of them, this one actually bore a resemblance. Kind of.

  I chuckled, as did Piaras.

  “Shut up!” Phaelan’s teeth were clenched, his lips didn’t move, and words still came out. Impressive.

  My chuckle turned into a snort. “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “You’re right. I’m not. But you should be.”

  “Hey, I’m just a man making a living.”

  Talon leaned forward and squinted at the poster, then grinned until his fangs showed. “I don’t think that’s what it says.”

  “Quit staring at it!”

  “I’m not staring at it. Don’t worry; it’s not that good a likeness.”

  I felt someone staring at me then. I didn’t need to look; I knew who it had to be.

  Paladin Mychael Eiliesor, the commander of the Conclave Guardians, was standing across the room, his eyes on me, his face a calm, professional mask. I knew better. When Mychael didn’t show emotion, it meant he was experiencing some strong ones. I’d felt them the moment he’d walked through that door. Or more to the point, I’d felt him. Mychael was a master spellsinger and healer, but first and foremost, he was a warrior. The aura of danger and controlled power surrounding him had nothing to do with healing and everything to do with his lethal skill in battlefield magic. The air around him virtually crackled with it, and I knew what stirred the hair on the nape of my neck was just the leftovers. I’d be willing to bet that demons had crossed Mychael’s path on the way here, and they probably weren’t alive anymore to regret it.

  I’d been expecting him. From a law-enforcement standpoint, Mychael had ultimate control over the Isle of Mid and everyone on it. As paladin, protecting the Saghred was his responsibility—and since the Saghred and I were a package deal, all that protecting extended to me.

  The noise level in the squad room abruptly decreased, and it wasn’t because Mychael had walked through those doors. As paladin, he’d been here many times. I hadn’t. The watchers shut up because they wanted to hear what happened next.

  I didn’t.

  I stayed right where I was. Mychael cut through the squad room with long strides to where we sat, a man on a mission. I was that mission.

  Talon swore again; Piaras made his own contribution, and Phaelan nonchalantly sat up straighter.

  “Think we should make a run for it?” my cousin asked.

  “I think that’d be a bad idea.”

  He shrugged and sat back. “Had to ask.”

  When Mychael was within ten feet of me, I stood up. Call it a primitive dominance response. I was a head shorter than Mychael, but I wasn’t about to keep my butt in a chair while he loomed over me.

  Close up gave me a nice view of Mychael, and as always, he was damned good to look at. His eyes were that mix of blue and pale green found only in warm, tropical seas. His hair was short and auburn. His handsome features were strong, and his face scruffy with stubble. Very nice. Sexy nice. I guess having demons on your island didn’t give you time to shave. Mychael was an elf, and the tips of his ears were elegantly pointed. I’d felt the urge to nibble those tips on more than one occasion, but I didn’t think now was the time or place.

  “We need to talk,” he told me. It was his paladin’s voice. His words weren’t a direct order, but he wasn’t giving me a choice, either.

  “Hello, Mychael. We’re all fine. No demon damage. Thank you for asking.”

  He just looked at me. “We need to talk.” He glanced over my left shoulder. “Sedge, may we use your conference room?”

  “Of course.” The chief’s basso rumble came from his office doorway. “I’ll see to it that you’re not disturbed.”

  Mychael almost smiled. “I appreciate that, but I brought my own lookouts.” He glanced down at Piaras and Talon. “And men to escort the two of you out of here and back home right now.”

  I tensed. “Now?”

  “Now. They need to leave.”

  Sedge Rinker stepped forward, his lips a grim, narrow line. “Anyone in particular I should be looking out for here?”

  “You’ll know him when you see him.”

  “You mean if I see him?”

  “No, when.”

  Sedge took a breath and let it out with a quiet “damn.”

  Mychael nodded grimly. “Exactly.”

  Chapter 4

  Mychael and I were inside the conference room; four Guardians were outside the conference room. Piaras was being taken under Guardian protection back to the safety of the Fortune. Talon was being escorted back to Sirens, Tam’s nightclub. The conference room door was closed. So it was just me, Mychael, and enough tension and sizzling magical leftovers to fill the rest of the room. Cozy.

  Like an increasing number of his men, Mychael was wearing full battle armor. For Guardians, that didn’t mean clunky, shiny plate mail. Mychael’s armor was steel and then some, and sleek was the best way to describe it. Matte finish, dark gray, and custom fit—Mychael’s armor conformed to his leanly muscled body almost like a second skin. No armorer was that good; there had to have been magic involved when it was forged.

  I made myself stop staring at Mychael’s conformities and helped myself to a chair.
“The reason you’re rushing those boys out of here wouldn’t happen to be named Carnades Silvanus?”

  “It would.”

  “Shit,” I spat.

  Mychael nodded. “That’s why I made sure I got here before he did.”

  “You know for a fact he’s coming?”

  “Without a doubt. And Piaras and Talon not being here will cause two less complications.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So that’s what you’re calling me now? A complication.”

  Mychael pulled up a chair and sat facing me, mere inches separating us. He almost smiled. “You don’t think it fits?”

  “Oh, it fits. I just think you could’ve done better. Carnades has got some downright colorful names for me.”

  “Carnades has more time to think than I do.”

  “And plot,” I reminded him. “Don’t forget the plotting and scheming.”

  Carnades Silvanus was second only to the archmagus in terms of position on the Conclave’s Seat of Twelve. The archmagus had the top spot and absolute authority over the Isle of Mid and everyone on it. Last week, Archmagus Justinius Valerian had nearly been assassinated. Until the old man recovered, Carnades had gone from second in command to sitting in the big chair, and he was determined to turn his temporary promotion into his permanent job.

  When Mychael didn’t respond, I thought I’d just cut to the chase. I had a knot in my stomach, but I went for casual and leaned back in the chair, tipping the front legs off of the floor. “Since I was there, I know what happened. I won’t even pretend to understand any of it, but—”

  “More demons have been spotted across the city,” Mychael said quietly.

  I swore. “Blue and naked?”

  “The very same.”

  “Any more purple ones?”

  “No Volghuls—not yet.” His tone indicated that he didn’t expect that good fortune to last for long. His lips curved up in a tired grin. “I hear you made quite an impression in the Quad.”

  I snorted. “At what? Finding a wine bottle?”

  Mychael’s blue eyes gleamed. “Vegard came right out and called you magnificent; he said you didn’t give one inch of ground to that monster.”