Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Okay. Let’s get ’em inside,” I prompted. The buildings across the street weren’t vacant, and we hadn’t exactly been quiet.

            Ivy clamped a hand on the shoulder of one, then another, easily manhandling them inside, leaving Glenn and me to deal with the deadweight of the last. “We should zip-strip him,” I said as we dragged him, heels leaving marks in the dirty grease, and Glenn grunted his agreement. Ivy’s strength was no surprise to him, since he’d dated her for almost a year.

            A pained ooof came from the shadows, and we dumped the unconscious man atop the other two. I crouched down as they squirmed to get him off, and Glenn zip-stripped the last. “You know who I am, right?” I said. Smiling meanly, I waved a hand dramatically, making the glyph sign for beginnings. “I just spelled you,” I lied as one of them whimpered, his eyes widening in fear. “If you try to go wolf to get out of your cuffs, you will twist your insides into pretzels. It will wear off in an hour, okay? Nod if you understand.”

            The two men pushed up against the wall nodded frantically, and I patted the cheek of the nearest. “Good. The oil pit leads into the basement, right?”

            They bobbed their heads and I stood. “Thank you.”

            Glenn bounced on his feet for a moment, then sidled close. “You’re going to leave them like that? What if they shout for help?”

            I glanced at Ivy, and she smirked. “You’re right,” I said, patting my bag where my splat gun was. “But until you make my position a paying one, I can’t legally use my splat gun apart from self-defense. Three zip-tied Weres against one demon isn’t self-defense.”

            Glenn rubbed his chin. “Time spent and materials.”

            “Done,” I said as we fist-bumped the arrangement into reality.

            “No, wait!” one of the Weres protested, but I’d already pulled my cherry-red splat gun. The three puffs of air were extremely satisfying . . . and then they were out. It would take a saltwater bath to wake them.

            Ivy jumped into the oil pit and levered the heavy iron floor panel up in a silent whoosh. “You two are sweet. Can we move now?”

            She held the heavy iron plate as if it was cardboard, and I sat on the cold cement to drop into the pit. “Your foot imprint in their gut can’t be traced back to you as my charms can,” I muttered, shifting to give Glenn more room when he landed next to me.

            Hand on his holstered sidearm, Glenn peered into the darkness, his nose wrinkling at the smell of wolfsbane, oil, and urine wafting up. “Have you reached Cassie?” he asked, clearly reluctant to commit to the dark stairway and its close poured-cement walls. There was no light, but we could hear a muttered echo of conversation, and my thoughts went to Pike and Jenks.

            “No. She isn’t answering her phone. I left a message.”

            “They’re here,” Glenn said. “Let me call in reinforcements.”

            “Great. They can meet us in the basement,” I said, and he frowned, torn.

            “This isn’t plywood, people,” Ivy complained, and with a deep breath, I pushed past Glenn and started down. He was fast to follow, running into me when I slowed for my eyes to adjust. I reached for a ley line, feeling better when the heady energy rushed in, but I quickly dismissed the thought to make a light. According to both Ivy’s and Glenn’s layouts, there was a huge two-story basement at the bottom of the short stairway, but why advertise our presence until necessary? And besides, my eyes had adjusted. A faint glow grew with each step, and the muted squabble was argumentative, not combative.

            “I have point,” Ivy said as she brushed past me. The woman swam in darkness. It was her true element.

            “You’re not going to shoot that, right?” I said as my gaze touched on the pistol in Glenn’s grip. I didn’t want anyone shot, especially me.

            “Right,” he said, and then we both started at the faint thump of flesh on flesh.

            “Clear,” Ivy whispered from the bottom of the stair, and I crept forward, breath held as I stepped over the downed man to come even with her. Glenn was tight behind, and the three of us looked out onto a surprisingly large, high-ceilinged underground room. The stairway came out at the top balcony that circled the open area below. Lights had been strung below our feet, leaving us safely in shadow.