Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “I’m not going to Alcatraz,” I said, more for Jenks than Vivian, but we both jumped when Vivian pushed herself into motion, clearly headed for the door. “Vivian,” I called, but the proud woman didn’t even slow. “You’re right,” I added as I followed her, Jenks a tight hum at my ear. “I’m afraid to show you the curse. I’m hurting Brad because I’m afraid of what you will say and how you will look at me. Can you promise you won’t think of me any differently? Will you remember what I’ve done and not punish me for what I’m capable of doing?”

            But Vivian kept walking, the chimes a wild tinkle as she went out and slammed the door hard enough to make the glass rattle.

            I halted between the aisles, my anger no less potent, but knowing better than to follow her. Patricia was waiting when I turned, her smile ugly. “Not enough money in the world,” she said, the bag of unprimed amulets and Jenks’s milkweed fiber held behind her back.

            My lip twitched, and I tried not to give in to my baser instincts. “You are inconveniencing me,” I said, remembering what my dad used to say. “But you are hurting yourself. And I feel sorry for you. Jenks? Let’s go.”

            Silent, Jenks took refuge between my scarf and my neck. My legs felt like water as I walked out, stiff-arming the door and letting it close naturally behind me. It would take about an hour out of my day that I didn’t have, but I could get what I needed at the university’s bookstore.

            But my pace slowed when I saw Vivian sitting on the bench where I had once talked to Hodin, the small woman uncharacteristically hunched over her knees, her brow furrowed in thought. She looked up as I scuffed to a halt, her blue eyes holding regret—and perhaps fear.

            Slowly, Vivian pushed from her knees to find her usual elegant posture. “I heard you went wolf yesterday. Lee says the curse to turn into a wolf requires human ash.”

            My lips parted in understanding. She thought I twisted a dark curse to Were? Perhaps this was the root of her mistrust, not my reluctance to show her Brad’s curse. “I didn’t shift into a wolf last night,” I said, feeling cold. “But if I had, it wouldn’t have taken human ash. I use salt as a substrate to get the same result. The original curse that the demons used to start the Were race used human ash to give a second DNA pattern in order to rub out any errors so they could breed true.” The origin of the curse was ugly, but David and the other Weres were not.

            “I didn’t realize that,” Vivian said. “How is the smut payment? Ah, when you go wolf.”

            “Marginal,” I said, beginning to relax. “No more than a standard earth-magic transformation potion. Where do you think the witches got the recipe?”

            A smile flitted and was gone. “There is a lot I don’t know, and I’m supposed to know everything.” She tilted her head, squinting at me through the sun. “You could fix that. If you weren’t so secretive about demon magic.”

            I thought of Newt’s books in my belfry, feeling as if they were lost, tortured children now in my loving care. “I can fix that,” I agreed, stifling a shudder when Jenks’s wings tickled my neck. “If the coven wasn’t so hell-bent on limiting what the demons are legally allowed to do. I could lift you. You could lift me. I just need you to trust me for a little longer.”

            Vivian’s shoulders shifted in a heavy sigh and her focus went distant, seeing through the passing traffic. What I was asking would require her to stand up to the rest of the coven. It might get her removed from office. It might get her shunned.

            “Wait here.” Vivian stood, purse in hand.

            Jenks tugged my scarf as he peered over it, and we both watched her go into Patricia’s store, door chime jingling merrily. “You think she’s getting our stuff?” he said, and I shrugged.

            It wasn’t even thirty seconds before she came out with that bag. Breathless, she halted before me, her blue eyes wide. “If she tampered with anything, you let me know,” she said, extending it.

            She was giving me more than what Jenks and I needed. She was giving me her trust, and emotion welled up through me, heady. I wondered if this was how Al had felt when I first trusted him. Perhaps we were even more alike than I had ever thought. “Why?” I asked as I took it.

            “Because you’re right,” she said, her expression fixed. “We aren’t the baddest practitioners this side of the ley lines anymore, and trying to bring you down to our level is stupid when you can lift us higher. Please, Rachel. I need to see what you did to Brad. It is imperative. I won’t let you land in Alcatraz. I promise.”