Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            Dali’s expression shifted as his thoughts left the book he couldn’t open, treasure he couldn’t see. “Before I do, I need—” he began, then hesitated. “We need, or rather, we’d like to know what you took from the vault besides the dagger. What unholy hell did you release upon the world, Rachel Mariana Morgan?”

            He was using all three of my names. This was more than a polite request, and I tried not to scream at him in impatience. “Al showed me the curse to turn Parker into a wolf. A real wolf. No return. That’s it. I didn’t touch anything else. It was that, or I was going to turn her into a human and she would have killed herself. I saved her life.” But really, I had taken it.

            Dali’s gaze dropped to my bag, full of my books. “And yet you managed to summon Al’s dagger, ungifted. You clearly saw more than he intended. Than we intended.”

            “Hey, I really need—” I began, and then I gasped as my body evaporated into nothing but a thought. Flustered, I snapped a protection circle about myself before the chiming roar of creation energy could singe my thoughts. I was in the lines. All of them. Simultaneously.

            And then I felt an aura blossom about me, pulling me to its match. I will never be able to do this, I thought, suddenly having the need to breathe as I regained my lungs.

            “Hey!” I yelped as a dropping sensation filled me.

            Damn it, Dali, I thought, cursing the perverse demon as I hit the water. Bubbles and froth beat at my ears as I flailed to find the surface and pushed into the air, gasping. I couldn’t see, and I trod water, the sound of my fall still echoing in the flooded cave that had once been the camp’s well. “Trent?” I coughed, kicking off my boots as I pulled in air stinking of frogs and slugs. No wonder they don’t use this anymore. “Trent!”

            “Rachel?”

            He’s alive! Elated, I spun to his voice and a sudden splashing. It grew close, and I reached for him at an icy, fumbling touch on my face. “Thank God,” I whispered, legs kicking as I found him cold and wet. “Are you okay?” I asked, pulling him into a hug that nearly sent us both down, and he shivered as the scent of spoiled wine rose from him. “I got here as soon as I could,” I added, my chest tight with worry. “Are you all right?”

            “I’m fine. Where’s Lee?” he asked, sounding more peeved than angry. “I’ve been clinging to the wall for hours. He tricked me here. He tricked both of us,” he said, the first hint of real anger in his voice.

            “Thank the Turn you’re okay,” I breathed, wanting to hold him. “He’s trying to kill you.” Tears threatened, and I blinked them back, glad it was too dark to see.

            “Lee? No,” Trent said with a scoff. “But he’s gone too far. I can’t reach a ley line to get out of here, otherwise . . .” He hesitated. “Lee?” he shouted, neck craned up to the unseen well house far overhead. “This isn’t funny! Get us out of here!”

            His voice echoed against the hard walls, not a hint of worry that Lee might not be up there. My eyes had begun to adjust to the ever-so-faint light from the well house, and Trent looked awful. His hair was flat to his head, and though he was clearly cold to the point of pain, his green eyes seemed to hold more annoyance than anger. Arms and legs moving, I started an awkward paddle to the wall. I couldn’t reach a line surrounded by water, either, but if I could ground myself, I could probably reach Dali’s thoughts. “Trent, it’s not a joke. He’s trying to kill you,” I said between sodden splashes.

            “No more than usual.” Trent began to follow. “Have you talked to Quen? He said not to call you. That’s the last time I do that,” he muttered, moving far more efficiently through the water. “Quen said to find a place to lie low, to not tell you, or him. Lee,” he added sourly, “offered to help. I thought he was going to put me up in a hotel, not drop me in the camp’s well. Someone is coming after me with both barrels this time.”

            “It’s Lee,” I said flatly, lip curling when I found the wall, slippery with slime. I still couldn’t tap a line, but I could feel the collective, and I shivered in relief.

            “Because he dropped me in a well? No.” Trent looked up in expectation, but the door to the shed covering the hole was not opening. Lee was not standing up there, laughing at us, and doubt pinched Trent’s eyes.

            “I bought a jump out of here. Ready?” I said, my hand fumbling to find his and hold it with a scared determination. Dali? I thought, closing my eyes as I found the collective.