Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Hi, Daddy!” Lucy’s clear voice was like sunshine. “Down, Abba. Down!” she demanded, and I inched closer to Trent as the fallen leaves in the woods rattled, sounding like an entire scurry of squirrels was descending on us. But it was only Lucy tearing out of the dark woods in her pj’s with the surety of running through her own house.

            “Hi, Daddy!” Lucy flung herself at Trent when he crouched to meet her. Beaming, the little girl gave him an enthusiastic hug only to push away with a frown when he stood with her on his hip. “You’re wet!”

            Trent gave her a loving kiss. “I spent the day in a well, my lovely.”

            And then I was scrambling to take her when he shifted her to me. “Hi, Lucy. Why are you out of bed?” I asked as I got a squishy hug and she pushed from me as well.

            “You’re wet, too!” she said, sounding betrayed, and I tweaked her nose.

            “Someone needed to rescue your daddy.”

            Trent smiled, glancing at his bare feet before turning to the woods and the sound of slow hooves. “It’s Quen,” he said in worry as the branches snapped and Tulpa stepped into the chancy light, a small wagon behind him. Ray was beside Quen on the bench, and the little girl stood, reaching.

            “Sa’han,” Quen called, then clucked and crooned to Trent’s horse, pulling him to a halt before the fire. Ray was wobbling precariously at the edge, and Quen scooped her up, jumping effortlessly to the soft, leaf-strewed meadow. “I was hoping Rachel would bring you here,” Quen said as he set the wiggling girl down and she ran to Trent.

            “Hi, my lovely,” he said, cuddling her close and listening to a whispered little-girl request as she touched his wet collar.

            I was very glad to see them, even if their presence meant something had gone wrong. The girls were supposed to be with Ellasbeth. If Quen had spirited them away, she was going to be ticked.

            “You’re wet,” Quen said, his forehead furrowed as he noticed both Trent’s and my bare feet.

            “Daddy was in a well,” Lucy said importantly, and Quen’s expression went cross.

            “A well?” Quen echoed, then seemed to reset himself. “Sa’han, I have news.”

            “I imagine so.” Trent’s focus brightened as he went to his horse, softly greeting him before continuing on to the wagon. “Rachel has told me Lee is the mage,” he said as he rummaged. “Fortunately the coven won’t continue to entertain him or his ridiculous claims.” Clearly pleased, he opened a plastic tub and took out a new set of clothes, right down to his tighty-whities. “Can I assume that the correct, ah, deposits are being made?”

            “Vivian heard him admit to everything,” I said, pleased until Quen’s shoulders drooped in a heavy sigh. “What,” I said flatly.

            He took a breath, but his words remained unsaid as Al shoved his wagon’s door open and strode down the steps as if entering a ballroom. He was in his usual crushed green velvet frock coat, but I couldn’t help but notice that his boots were scuffed.

            “My girls!” the demon called, falling to a knee to take both Lucy and Ray when they ran to him. “I have something to show you,” he said, rising with them in his arms. “In the creek.”

            “Mermaids?” Lucy asked, and Al’s brow furrowed for a moment in distress. Mermaids? Maybe once, but now it was probably frogs.

            “You never know,” he said. “But you must be quiet. Can you be quiet, my Lucy?”

            The little girl shook her head, and Al laughed. But it faded fast as he walked away. His eyes almost glowed in the fire as he looked over his shoulder at me. Stifling a shudder, I turned to Trent and Quen at the wagon. Al had taken the girls to the creek so we could talk, but he would stay near enough to hear.

            “You brought a wagon?” I said as Trent continued to rummage through it.

            “It’s my bug-out bag,” he said shortly. “Quen, where are the bath wipes?”

            “I’ll find them, Sa’han.”

            “You can keep rolling that wagon along,” Al said from the stream. “You aren’t moving in with me.” He beamed at the girls, now throwing leaves into the stream to watch them drift. “Unlike you, my elven sunshines, who can stay as long as you like.”