Blood Pact (Darkling Mage 7)

“Yep,” Herald said. “She can always blame it on faulty wiring or whatever. Old building, you know? And she does keep some crazy exotic reagents in here. Really rare stuff. She needs to make sure it’s all safe and secure.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding towards the far end of the shop. “Especially that golden glow-y thing down that aisle.”

Herald frowned. “Wait. What the hell is that?”

The glow brightened, slowly, at first, but it suddenly flared so harshly that the entirety of the shop was bathed in a rich, golden light.

“Oh shit,” I muttered. “Is it going to blow?”

Herald tugged on my wrist. “We’re not waiting to find out.”

We ran for the other sidewalk, and I glanced around hurriedly, ready to shout a warning to any normals nearby, when I noticed that we were totally alone. Herald and I ran side by side, nearly clearing the street when I slammed painfully into a sturdy, invisible force. Herald stopped short, luckily, but I could feel my teeth rattling in my head. I fell on my ass, which is not great when the falling involves said ass hitting a concrete sidewalk.

“Fucking ouch,” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead, my eyelids. “Donovan Slint,” I shouted. “I know you’re around here somewhere, you goddamn asshole.”

“Uh, Dust,” Herald said. “This isn’t Donovan. Pretty sure it isn’t human at all, really.”

I thought that the collision was what had caused the swimming brightness behind my eyelids, but no – when I opened my eyes, the golden light was in front of us, no longer content to wait and linger in Madam Chien’s apothecary. Herald pulled me to my feet, a swirl of purple energy in the palm of his hand already waiting to be formed into a spell, and we backed away from the light cautiously.

“The fuck is it?” I whispered, readying a fireball. “Angel? Not another one of these guys.”

Herald’s breath was heavy from the exertion. He adjusted his glasses, their lenses briefly flickering. What, were those enchanted, too, like those pink shades the Fuck-Tons were wearing? Did I miss out on some arcane eyewear trend?

“Not an angel,” he said. “Worse.”

“Dustin Graves,” a familiar voice called from within the pulse of golden light. “Has it been so long? Do you no longer recognize the gilded countenance of the demon prince of greed?”

Chapter 19

There the demon prince stood, in very much the same way I’d last seen it: under the light of a streetlamp. Mammon shone like a ruby, wearing its trademark brilliant red suit, its hair in that beautiful, androgynous coif. A single golden hoop dangled from its left ear, and its eyes, bright green like emeralds, like the scales of a serpent, gleamed at me. Mammon’s smile was as sharp a sickle.

“Greetings, humans,” the demon said.

“Mammon,” I said, doing my best to hide the tremor in my voice. “It’s definitely been a while. How are things in hell?”

“Not too terribly, thing of shadows. The question truly applies to all of the hells. In which case? Mammon is hesitant to say.”

I bent closer to the ground, curling my fingers over a ball, invisible but already burning with white heat. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Herald doing pretty much the same thing, loosely clutching his fingers over tiny clumps of ice.

“Gentlemen, there really isn’t any need for violence. Mammon simply wants to speak, to hold a conversation with the court of greed’s dearest friends.”

The demon spread its arms, hands and fingers unfurled, as if to show that it meant no harm.

“I don’t know how you can expect me to believe that,” I said. “You sent your minions after us.”

Herald nudged me in the ribs, leaning in to whisper. “Remember the last time? I’m pretty sure we can’t trust this thing.”

Mammon chuckled. “Thing indeed,” it said. “Mammon is not here to play any tricks. Mammon wishes to offer you a bargain.”

I looked at the demon, then at Herald, bending in even closer to speak. “Don’t forget, it has really good senses, and can probably still hear exactly what I’m saying.”

“This is true,” Mammon said, nodding.

“I might have forgotten to mention,” I said to Herald, “but three demons totally attacked us outside the Leather Glovebox.”

“Guilty as charged,” the demon said, spreading its hands even wider, giving us a simpering grin. “But the minions of greed were not sent to harm you. Merely to retrieve your precious cargo.”

The flames in my hand snuffed out. I stood stock-still. “Banjo?”