Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            The woman with the bullhorn continued to stomp across the stage, riling them up as Lee went to confer with two city officials at the rear. Slowly my jaw tightened; he stood upon the very same stage where I had knelt not a year ago, judged by a mob and waiting to be killed. Not this time, I thought.

            Taking a deep breath, I pulled on the ley line. Hard.

            Trent sensed it, his expression becoming decidedly vicious. His chin lifted, and I felt him do the same, drawing in line energy until his unseen aura tingled against mine.

            People began to turn, suddenly nervous as they noticed us gathering enough energy to make the tips of my hair float.

            “That’s Rachel Morgan,” I saw a woman say, her eyes widening as she tugged on her friend’s arm. “Morgan is here. We need to leave!”

            “Where?” Shouting, her friend pulled from her grip, searching. “I’ve never seen . . . that’s Morgan? What’s with her hair?”

            “She’s tapping a ley line,” the woman said, her outright panic beginning to draw attention. “She’s got enough line energy in her to fry a cow. Let’s go!”

            Well, on a good day, maybe, I thought, a hand going to my hair.

            Trent leaned close, a faint smile about his lips. “You’re fun, you know that?”

            I was not amused. The two women had fled, alarm rising in their wake. A slow wave of fear pushed out from us to make a growing pocket of silence. The people here had gathered to curse me, and, seeing me ready to stop them, they were clearly having second thoughts.

            “Quen. Let’s move. Stage,” Trent said, and I made the jump to the pavers. Someone shrieked, and that fast, a way opened as people pushed back. More heads began to turn, and an obvious movement to the curbs began. David was there, standing ready to keep the flood from becoming a dangerous stampede. And whereas I appreciated the path that was opening before me, something felt broken. I didn’t want to be feared. I just wanted some respect.

            Our matched steps slow and measured, Trent and I went to the stage. Quen lurked behind us as a rear guard. Lee still hadn’t noticed us, and as he talked to the media, I studied the four young people with him. None of them could be more than twenty. One looked twelve.

            “Trent,” I said, suddenly unsure, and the tallest girl turned, stiffening as she realized who we were. Her brown skin and straight black hair melded into her black robes, and her Möbius strip pin glinted. I balked when our eyes met and her anger slammed into me. Vivian’s student? I wondered. Her rage appeared personal.

            “I don’t want to fight children,” I whispered as a slim, blond, gawky boy stared at us in fear. He couldn’t be more than twelve. No wonder they had made Lee their plumber. He was the only one with enough experience to handle the big, bad uglies.

            “Don’t let their age fool you,” Trent said grimly. “They’ve been studying magic since they could walk, and I guarantee you they won’t pull their punches.”

            “Well, I will,” I said, slowing as the media focused their cameras on us. “Look at them. They might know their magic, but they don’t know shit about the way people use each other. Lee’s tricked them. That’s not a reason to get hurt.”

            “Rachel . . .” Trent began, and I drew him to a halt before the stage. The plaza was going empty apart from a tightening knot of angry people, and I sent a silent thank-you to David.

            Lee stood on the stage before the coven, a smile on his thin lips, a hint of line energy dancing at his fingertips. I could sense him drawing on the same ley line I was, and I yanked on it, satisfied when his face blanked.

            Feel that, did you? Come closer and I’ll smack you with enough energy to land you in next week. “Hey, Stinklee!” I shouted, and he frowned at the hated childhood nickname. “You got a permit to convene a coven on public property?”

            Trent winced, rubbing the bridge of his nose before he lifted his head. “Lee?” Trent’s voice rang out as the crowd continued to retreat to the surrounding buildings. “Please tell me you aren’t trying to illegally curse the demons into exile?”

            But Lee smirked as if amused. “How did you get him out so fast?”

            “I bought a couple of line jumps from a demon,” I said, anger warming me as my gaze lifted to the young people behind him. “Same as you,” I added, but I doubted they would believe me.