Blood Pact (Darkling Mage 7)

She placed Banjo in her lap, then trailed the cruel acrylic press-on nails of one hand through the air above the dog. I gasped. Streaks of light remained where Metric had waved her fingers, and as she continued gesturing, the lines merged to draw a pattern, combining into a circle that settled just above Banjo’s body. It spun in place, projecting a faint beam onto the dog, very much like a spotlight. Banjo twirled in place, yapping at the glowing disc above him.

“What’s happening?” Sterling whispered, bending closer to Imperial.

“Ah. Metric is taking a closer look. Detection spell, like an X-ray, one that should, ideally, give us more clues about the dog’s origins.” Imperial rested her chin in her other hand as she peered at the shaft of pink light. “But alas. Nothing, it looks like.”

Metric snapped her fingers, and the disc of light disappeared. Banjo stopped in place, turning and tilting his head as he searched for his vanished playmate.

“Nothing,” Metric said. “Very strange. And the three of you are sure that the explosions weren’t a strategy? Some kind of self-destruct failsafe?”

“Very sure,” Gil said. “Think of it this way. Whoever sent those demons after us – why would they rig the insides of their heads to explode? They were clearly after the dog, and they were clearly afraid of it.”

“Then whoever sent them knew of the dog’s nature,” Imperial muttered. “Or its supernature, as it stands.”

Banjo yipped at us, like he understood. I gripped my teacup tighter. Gil flinched.

“I really doubt there’s anything to worry about, boys,” Imperial said, patting the side of her gigantic wig. “The dog sees you as members of its pack. You have nothing to fear. I have every confidence that it sensed the danger that the three demons posed, deliberately attacking them with – well, with something terribly dangerous in its bark.”

“Well and good,” I said. “But that still leaves so many questions. What’s up with this dog, exactly?”

As one, Metric and Imperial Fuck-Ton shrugged. “Beats us,” Metric said. “There’s only so much enchantments can do, after all.”

“I hear that,” I said. Instinctively, my hand went up to touch the necklace at my throat. It had gone dormant since the night that I’d used it to shut the Dark Room out forever – the night I had to sacrifice my mom’s shade.

“I hate to say this,” Metric said, “but it looks like your best option would be to approach an entity for help. Someone who can give you information.”

Gil sighed in relief. “Excellent. Dust is friends with a bunch of those. Right, Dust?”

Imperial tutted and raised one clawed finger. “Not those kinds of entities. You’ll want someone who has experience with animals. Nature. That sort of thing.”

Sterling’s jacket squeaked as he reached for the coffee table. “We’ll think of something. We’ll figure it out.” He lifted his teacup to his lips and sipped.

“This tea is delicious, by the way,” I said. Herald would love it. “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh, it’s Malaysian, from up in the mountains,” Imperial said with a flattered chuckle. She produced a tin from one of the hidden drawers built into the side of the coffee table. “Here, take some.”

“Wow, thank you so much,” I said, grinning, the tin still warm from Imperial’s hands. I stuffed it in my backpack. I took another sip, humming appreciatively. “I don’t know if you do something to brew it differently, but it just tastes so good.”

“Oh honey,” Metric said, sticking one taloned finger out at the teapot. “That’s just the acid.”

What the – I held the tea in my mouth, careful not to let another drop slip down my throat. “Thuh – thuh ashid?”

“Don’t be silly, darling,” Imperial said. “She’s only joking.”

I forced a smile as I swallowed gratefully.

“Honest to God, Dust, you’re so damn gullible,” Sterling said, sipping from his own tea. “Back to business. Next question. Who’s sending demons after us?”

“A fair question,” Imperial said. “Have any of you had any brushes with demons in the past? Anyone who might be interested in acquiring a curiosity the likes of this enchanted pup?”

Oh. Oh no. Say it isn’t so. I grimaced as my heart clenched with dread.

Imperial set down her teacup, eyes large with concern. “What is it, dear? Have you thought of someone?”

“I’m afraid I have,” I groaned. “And what the demon prince of greed wants, it gets.”

Chapter 10

It made sense, didn’t it? The story hung together. My last real contact with Mammon was when it wanted the Tome of Annihilation, a bizarre collector’s item of a grimoire that teleported itself to a different destination each time it was read. The demon prince of greed was exactly the same kind of eccentric entity that would want something as unusual as an exploding dog.