Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Jenks, relax,” Trent said as Lee pulled from his grip. “He’s just being a jerk-wad.”

            The mild epithet made Lee laugh, somehow turning his potential theft into a kid’s game. Not at all embarrassed, Lee took the lens out of his pocket and tossed it to Jenks.

            “Hey!” the pixy shouted, barely getting under it before it hit the floor. Wings laboring, he managed to drag it back atop the workbench.

            “Not funny,” I said as Bis rumbled low and deep on my shoulder.

            “Can’t blame me for trying,” Lee said with a chuckle. Hands in his pockets, he went into the hallway.

            “He doesn’t have anything else,” Bis whispered in my ear. “I was watching him.”

            “Thanks, Bis,” I said. Trent had followed Lee out, Jenks hot behind him as he swore, bringing Disney, Tink, and troll turds together in an unholy trinity. I took one last look at Hodin’s room as I picked up the lens and dropped it into the pocket with the ring. A weird feeling passed through me as I hit the hall. The last time they were together like this, Hodin was twisting a dark curse, killing someone.

            Hodin’s door was still open, and I shifted the Srandford bowl between the door and jamb so it wouldn’t shut. “Hey, Lee? You’re still a jerk, but thanks for your help,” I said as I joined Lee and Trent in the sanctuary, a dark elven magic book in one hand and a gargoyle on my shoulder. Lee already had his coat on, but his tight frown eased at my words.

            “Sure. No problem.” Lee paused as if lost, motions slow as he draped his scarf around his neck. “I’ll say one thing. Your life is not predictable.”

            “No, it’s not,” I said, and Bis chuckled, giving my shoulder a quick pinch before flying up into the rafters.

            I set Hodin’s elven-magic book on the end table and sat on the couch to put my boots on. Despite it all, we were still okay, the pattern of irritation and forgiveness ingrained from three years of camp, and my lips curved up as one heel went thumping into my boot. “You’re coming to Trent’s Halloween bash, right?”

            Lee nodded, his eyes on Jenks as the pixy went to sit with Bis. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

            “Yeah?” Wouldn’t miss it? He had never come before. “You do know it’s a costume party. You got a costume yet? The only thing left now is sexy witch.”

            The man’s eyes dropped down, flicking between Trent and me. “You’ll see,” he said mysteriously.

            Which meant he hadn’t gotten a costume yet and would probably come as a hippie. I stood, eager for him to leave so I could get going. “Seriously, thanks for your help getting into Hodin’s room. I could not have done it without you.”

            “Clearly.” Lee faced Trent, his expression open and honest. Trent, though, was obviously not ready to let it go even as he reached for Lee’s proffered hand. “We still on for the festival?”

            “Absolutely.” Trent took his hand back, a professional smile gracing his face. “You want to bump it out to ten?”

            Lee exhaled in relief as he nodded, made an insulting shooting gesture to Jenks, then smiled at me. “Ten sounds great. See you then.” Turning, he walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the rainy night.

            Finally. “I’m going to stash the lens and the book in my room,” I said, boots thumping as I strode to the foyer. “Jenks, you okay with the temps? It’s wet out there.”

            “I got this!” Jenks said, voice faint behind me as I took the stairs two at a time. “Give me a second to find Getty and tell her where I’m going.”

            “Coat,” I said as I stomped up the stairs and blew into my room, making a satisfied mmmm as I plucked it from my makeshift closet. I loved jacket weather. I can move downstairs, I thought, but the idea immediately soured. Al had put wards and spells of protection on my belfry room, and the thought of sleeping in the same room where Hodin had? Not happening.

            Rain jacket rasping, I turned to my growing collection of books. After I gained four of Newt’s demon tomes, Trent had given me a lockable, glass-faced cabinet for my birthday. It was down in the kitchen, where I did all my spelling, but I had yet to move anything into it apart from a few ley line gadgets. I hadn’t liked seeing the yellowed glass in Lee’s hand, and my books felt safer up here on the shelf where they had always been. “There you go,” I said as I wedged the tattered elven tome between two demon texts and set the lens in front of it.