For a Few Demons More (The Hollows 5)

"It might be someone close to you," he mocked, and fear spiked through me, even as the music changed and the singer started in with "Crazy He Calls Me." I couldn't think as the music swelled, and I moved without resistance when Al danced us away from Trent, who was trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.

"I need a favor," Al said, lips barely moving and his voice heavy with embarrassment. "Do this one thing and I'll take the focus off your hands. I'll even promise to keep it until after you die. You'll never have to see the wars, the pestilence." He smiled, sickening me. "It's a no-brainer."

A golden age of peace that would last as long as I lived. Right. As soon as he got it, he'd kill me. With Ceri's help I might be able to make an ironclad deal to keep myself alive, but it was a false hope, and it made my chest hurt. I wanted the simple answer so badly.

I managed to swallow as I danced with the demon of my future's past. He said he didn't want the focus but would take it as a favor? I moved woodenly as I thought. Something wasn't right. I was missing something. Al said he liked it here, but I could see that the loss of his omnipotence was chafing him. There had to be a reason he was lowering himself to this fraction of strength, and I didn't think it had to do with wanting a suntan. He wanted a favor. From me.

Pulse settling to a hard beat, I eyed him squarely, squeezing his hand until he noticed. "What aren't you telling me, Al?"

The demon grimaced.

Pulling my eyebrows high, I made a telling face. "You're over here for a reason, and it's not me. I'm not that big a pain, and nothing is stopping you from dragging me off..."

My words trailed to nothing as a thought trickled through me. Why hasn't he just dragged me off? A smile quirked my lips, and I aimed it at the suddenly unsure demon. "You're in trouble, aren't you?" I guessed, knowing I was right when his smooth pace bobbled. "You're up crap creek, and you're hiding on this side of the lines because they can't drag you back while you're possessing Lee."

"Don't be inane," Al said, but he was sweating. I could see a bead of moisture at his temple, and his hand gripping mine in its glove was getting damp. "I'm here to kill you. Slowly."

"Then do it," I said boldly. "If you do, you're back in the ever-after. You put yourself into a huge amount of debt to stay here when the sun is up. The only one who knows is an insane demon who probably forgot about you already." Al frowned. Knowing I was pressing my luck, I said, "What did you do? Forget to return a library book? "

Pain cramped my hand, and I tried to pull from him. "It's your fault," Al snarled, the hate in his eyes stopping my protest. "Newt found out Ceri is running around under a yellow sun knowing how to spindle line energy, and since Ceri was my familiar, I'm the one responsible."

"Let go," I said, twisting my fingers.

"If I go back, I'm going to be held accountable," he said darkly, squeezing.

"You are hurting me!" I said. "Let me go, or I'm going to kick you in the 'nads!"

Al's grip loosened. I pulled away, standing three feet from him and glaring as the band continued to play, the singer's voice becoming distracted and uneasy. For an instant we stared at each other. Then he snatched up my hand and got us moving again. "Forgive me," he said, not sounding at all apologetic. "I'm understandably upset. I have never been in such a position before." His eyes narrowed. "They don't know you know the same, and it's in your best interest to keep your mouth shut about it. But you were there when she and I struck the deal, and you're going to tell them that she's been bound to keep her mouth shut but for one child. That the damage is contained."

My pulse was fast, but his hold was again light. The song ended, and we seamlessly moved into the next one, the pace slowing. "I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance." Figures. Arching my eyebrows high, I made a telling face. "You want me to verify your story?" I said caustically. "They don't trust you. Why should I?"

Bother flashed over him, and before I could react, he pulled me into him. My breath was a quick intake, and I lost my bravado in a wash of icy fear. "Oh," Al hissed threateningly, his words shifting my wispy curls, "no need to get nasty." He crushed me to him, his heavy hand landing on the back of my neck.

Adrenaline spiked. I was playing with a tiger. I was taunting a freaking demon!

Behind me the band continued, albeit shakily. Seeing my fear, Al split his lips in a nasty grin. Leaning into me, he tilted his head and whispered, "It doesn't have to be this way..."

His hand caressed my neck, and I sucked in my breath. Hot need trilled through me, sparking from neuron to neuron, lighting a path to my core. My knees buckled, but I didn't move, held in his grip. He was playing upon my scar, and doing it really, really well.

My next breath was a harsh gasp. I couldn't think, it felt that good.

Al's breath mingled with mine, uniting us when his breath swirled in my lungs. The scent of burnt amber mixed with the delicious feeling he instilled, forever melding the two. "Did you think only vampires could play upon your scar?" Al murmured, and I shook when he rubbed his thumb against me. "We came first. They're only our shadows."

"S-stop it," I said, my eyes closing. My pulse was a fast thrum. I had to get away from this.

"Mmmm, such beautiful skin," he breathed, and I shuddered. "You've been dabbling in a little vanity curse, my dear. It suits you."

"Go to... hell," I panted.

"Come with me and testify that Ceri has agreed not to teach anyone but a daughter," he insisted. "I'll take away a mark. I'll give you a night of this. A hundred vanity curses. Whatever you want. Rachel... we don't have to be adversaries."

A moan, feather light, slipped from me. "You're crazier than Newt if you think I'm going to trust you."

"If you don't," he said, breath moist and hot on me, "I'll kill you."

"Then you'll never get what you want." His grip clenched, and, finding strength in the knowledge that he was trying to dominate me, my eyes flew open. "Let go!" I demanded, my hand balling up and pushing.

"Excuse me, Lee?" came Trent's voice from behind me.

The passion flowing through me cut off so fast I staggered, groaning. It hurt, damn it, having it ripped away so suddenly. Dizzy, I turned. Though Trent looked calm and confident on the surface, I could tell he wasn't. Behind him Quen watched from across the room, tense but distant. It was obvious he didn't approve of his Sa'han interfering.

"You have monopolized Ms. Morgan long enough," Trent said, smiling. "May I cut in?"

Al's gloved hand slipped from my neck. I took a breath, trying to expunge the last of the ecstasy he had drawn through me. I stumbled, feeling both numb and alive - unreal.

"Of course, Trenton," the demon said, placing my hand in Trent's. "I will console myself with talking to your beautiful bride-to-be."

I wasn't breathing right, and I blinked at Trent as the warmth of his hand stole into mine. But Trent wasn't looking at me.

"Watch your step, demon," Trent said, his green eyes hardening with an ancient hatred. "We are not helpless."

Al's smile widened. "That's what makes it fun."

I jumped when Al put a gloved hand on my shoulder, and I cursed myself for it. "I'll be in touch, Rachel," he said, voice full and throaty when he leaned closer.

"I'll sharpen my stakes," I said, pulling myself out of my shock.

His hand fell away, and he walked off laughing, jaunty and sure of himself.

And through it all, the band played on.

I took a slow breath and brought my eyes to Trent's. I didn't know what to feel. I was frightened, relieved. Grateful. He hadn't needed to intervene. I was supposed to be protecting him. It was obvious he wanted to know what Al and I had been discussing, but there was no way in hell I was going to tell him. Still... "Thank you," I whispered.

A smile twitched at his lips. His head bobbed slightly with the music three times, and then he pulled me into motion. "Yes, well, it's not like I want to marry you," he said.

My free hand rose as we moved, and after a moment I placed it lightly on his shoulder. Trent didn't say anything, and I started to relax. My pulse slowed, and I began seeing things again. The scent of green leaves pushed out the stench of burnt amber, and I abruptly realized I was utterly pliant in his arms, letting him direct me about the floor without a thought in my head.

I met his eyes. Seeing my horror, he chuckled.

"You are a surprisingly fine dancer, Ms. Morgan," he said.

"Thanks. So are you. Did you take classes, or is it an elf thing?"

Okay, maybe that had been a little sharp, but Trent didn't take offense, inclining his head gracefully. "A little of both."

My eyes darted to Ellasbeth. Al was moving in on her, but the woman didn't know it yet, too intent on trying to kill me with her thoughts. Beside her, her mother was trying to coax Jenks down. Her husband was sitting sullenly beside her, clearly having given up on trying to stop her, and as I watched, Jenks left his post, coming to a light landing before her. Even from here I could see he was embarrassed at the attention, but he was slowly warming up.

Trent twirled us so my back was to them, and I looked at him. "I can't believe you didn't tell them about Jenks," I said.

His eyes flicked to mine and away. "I didn't think it mattered."

A chuckle escaped me, and I found it did more than anything else to wash away the remnants of adrenaline. "Your entire species has been shunning pixy contact for forty years, and you don't think it matters? I think you were afraid to tell them."

Trent returned his eyes to mine. "No. It was for the entertainment value."

I believed it. He must be bored out of his ever-loving mind. "Trent. Is there something about pixies that you like?"

His hand on my waist pinched in warning. "Excuse me?"

I felt a stir of confirmation. "I'm just curious if there's an interspecies bond or something that you've been neglecting - "

"No."

That had been way too fast, and I smiled. He liked pixies but wasn't going to admit it. "It just seems as if - "

"No."

His movements went stiff, and I backed off before he danced me over to Al. "Are you ready for Sunday?" I said, changing the subject. "Wow, married in the basilica. I never thought that would happen."