Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Yeah, but, Rache,” Jenks tried again. “Getty says—”

            “Is she okay?” I said, interrupting him. The pearl on my ring was still white, but it had been raining for three days, and the need to move was growing. The caves had been out-of-bounds because they filled with water every time it rained. Trent was in trouble.

            “She’s scared is all.” Jenks hovered, his tiny features pinched. “But, Rache, Vivian—”

            I sank my awareness into the line, feeing it hum through me. Stepping to the ever-after would be a small thing, and then I could reach Dali easier. “When Bis wakes up, tell him I might need his help,” I said, then closed my eyes, willing my aura to match the line.

            “Listen to me, witch! Vivian is—” Jenks shouted, his voice cutting off as I let my soul return into its normal resonance. That fast, I was in the ever-after.

            My breath hissed in as a sudden, cold wind gusted to knock me down. Hunched, I squinted at the brilliantly colored sunset. Autumn-dried grass whipped my legs, and it was bitterly cold. I held my heavy bag closer. The scent of burnt felt clung to my books, but Lee’s fire had done no damage. Demon tomes could not be burned, and that’s all that Lee had taken from my library.

            Dalliance was a five-minute walk from here, but I was hoping that if I called Dali from this side of the lines, he’d answer. Closing my eyes again, I willed myself into the collective.

            Breath catching, I wavered, dizzy as both the wind and a mental uproar buffeted me. They were arguing, everyone thinking as loudly as they could to be heard. Dali? I called, throwing my will into the void only to have it dissolve like an unheard echo in an ocean wave. Dali! I shouted, putting my fear and worry behind it.

            With a frightening suddenness, an eerie silence fell. For a heartbeat, there was nothing, and then a nervous titter and whispered questions. I heard my name, and Al’s. It’s her. She’s alive, I sensed Dali think, and then, I’ll find out. No one does anything until I return. Got it? Or the only thing you’ll find in the jukebox will be that slutty strip bar.

            Ah, Dali? I questioned again, and then his presence was wholly in my mind, oppressive and domineering. Hey, back off, I thought as I fell deeper into myself, not liking his lack of social graces. For all his failings, Al gave me some space. I need to talk to you.

            And then I started as he left my mind. I took a breath to yell at him, my eyes flashing open as he was suddenly before me. The slightly overweight demon squinted up at the brilliantly colored sky and gathered his robes around him in the unexpected wind. There were no bells on his sash, and the hem was tattered, a sordid black rising to blood red at his collar. It was old, and he only wore his old robes when he wanted to remind everyone he had been one of the first to escape the elves, second behind Newt and Al.

            “So it’s true,” he said, his goat-slitted gaze touching upon my books before dropping to the dagger still in my grip. “Al took you into the vault. Gave you access to our toys. Is he alive?”

            “Of course he’s alive,” I said, appalled. “Are you serious?”

            Dali shrugged, the portly demon giving the impression of both indifference and worry. “Gally has been making questionable decisions lately. Most concerning you. His agony rippled through the collective oh, say, not two hours ago, and here you are, with one of his prize possessions in hand.”

            Dali eyed me in expectation, and I shoved a feeling of guilt down. “He was helping me take care of Parker. I need three line jumps.”

            The demon snuffed, but still that wariness hung over him like a shroud, coloring his every move. “And you think I’m going to give them to you? Because you need them?” he practically sneered, robes fluttering, hissing against the grass.

            I glanced at my ring. The pearl was white, but my gut said every second counted, and I pushed forward into his space until my newest elven book sparked at his presence and he jerked away in shock. Worry crossed him, and then it was gone. “Look, you,” I said, trying to get my wildly whipping hair out of my mouth without stabbing myself with Al’s dagger. Maybe I should have asked Al how to turn this thing off. “Lee dumped Trent into a well. The camp is closed, and it has been raining since Thursday. I need three jumps. Now!”

            Dali grinned, his flat white teeth catching the fading light as a secret tried to escape him. “Yes. I know. Who do you think he bought a line jump from?”

            “You?” I said, ticked. “You sold Lee a jump to put Trent into a well?”