Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            Alcatraz? An icy drop of remembered fear slid through me, and I retreated again until my heels found the small rise to the stage and I stepped up onto it.

            “Refusal to meet with coven representative to explain possession of illicit materials,” Lee said, ticking off his fingers. “Absolutely. You stood Vivian up.”

            “I had to go,” I said, not knowing how he knew, or why I was explaining this to him. The ugly yellow-wax pentagram was between us, like a guilty secret laid bare. Even if I could scrape it off, the oil from the candles and the residual fat from the ash circle would stain it forever.

            Lee halted three feet from the pentagram, an ugly smile quirking his thin lips. “You are a hot mess on steroids.” His chin dropped, and he eyed me from under a lowered, sarcastic brow. “You murdered someone in your own living room. I’m going to have the pleasure of bringing you in. Straight to Alcatraz. No hearing. No trial. You’re a bad witch with a reputation.”

            I shook my head, the threat of Alcatraz stiffening my spine. “You threw Trent under the bus, didn’t you,” I said in disgust. “Seriously, Lee? Do you really think—”

            I stiffened as Lee yanked on the ley line. Instinct pushed me into motion, and I sprang to the side as he threw a spell at me. Gasping, I hit the stage and rolled off, books sliding out of my bag. The wall behind where I’d been flared a brilliant purple as Lee’s magic dripped to the floor and dissipated.

            “Hey!” I shouted as I stood, safe under my protection circle. Please don’t come in, Jenks. Stay in the garden. “Watch the walls! And what’s your game, Saladan? You and Trent are two sides to the same coin. Getting greedy?” I mocked, and Lee’s lip twitched. “Half the world not enough? You need it all?”

            “This has nothing to do with Brimstone,” he said, his clenched hands dripping an oily magic. “It’s necessary. Made illegal by frightened humans who don’t want an Inderland drug to be the only thing between them and a set of sharp teeth and a short life of servitude. I make it. I sell it. I don’t care who buys it. Trent is the one playing God! Choosing who will live and who will die. Tinkering with people’s lives. Selling life from death for a dollar.”

            His daughter, I thought. Revenge moved him, not money. I was in deep shit. Money I might be able to reason with him, but not revenge. Not the broken heart. “Lee, I’m sorry about your daughter,” I said as I dropped my protection circle and looped my bag over my shoulder again and out of the way. Maybe if I looked as if I wanted to find a peaceful solution, he might calm down. “You should have talked to Trent. He would have—”

            “You know nothing!” Lee shouted, and I flung out a hand, energy arching through my palm as I sent a ball of unfocused magic to slam into his. The two struck, hissing and sparking between us until Lee’s magic overloaded and popped.

            “Trent would have cured her,” I said, coming closer as he did the same, both of us shifting around that perverted pentagram.

            “I will not be owned by a Kalamack elf!” he shouted, and my clenched jaw eased.

            “Maybe once he might have wanted to own your fealty, but he’s changed.”

            “Such naivety,” he mocked. “Nothing is free. No one changes.”

            Lee stopped, standing almost on the stage. He had given me the door. I could sense my books behind me, and my pulse quickened. Plan B. Grab the books and run like hell. But if he wanted me to run, that was the last thing I should do.

            “I suppose you’re right,” I mocked as I shifted to get between him and my books. “How terrible would it be if he saved your daughter? Don’t make me defend myself, Lee,” I said as I backed up to my books. “We both know I haven’t done this. Vivian knows I wouldn’t ever twist that curse. Who do you think she’s going to believe? A wax pentagram carries the aura of the one who makes it. Your signature is all over it. This is not going to stick.”

            Lee rubbed his chin as if amused. I could feel him slowly bringing in line energy, his aura almost visible as he gathered all he could hold. “It will,” he said. “Vivian wanted me to tell you, but I convinced her that it would be easier to catch you in a lie if you didn’t know.”

            My books were right behind me. I didn’t like that he had touched them. “Know what?” I said as unfocused power dripped from his fingers.

            Not answering, he flipped his lapel up, showing me its underside and the emblem there.