Chapter Twenty-three
"Damn!" I swore, backpedaling. The sanctuary. If I could reach holy ground, he couldn't touch me. I shrieked as a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. Spinning, I clawed at his face. It went misty, and I lurched when his grip vanished. In an instant he had my ankle and jerked me off my feet. "Let go!" I shouted when I hit the floor, my voice harsh as I kicked him.
He spun me sliding into the fridge. His long face took on a sun-starved complexion and his red goat eyes turned eager over his smoked glasses. I scrambled up, and he lunged, grabbing me with his white-gloved hand and giving me a shake to rattle my teeth. He shoved me, and I landed against the center island counter like a rag doll. Turning, I put my back against it, wide-eyed and heart beating fast. I was so stupid. I was so stupid!
"If you run again, I'll call you in breach of our agreement," he said calmly. "That's your warning. Please run. It will make everything so-o-o-o much simpler."
Shaking, I held onto the counter for balance. "Go away," I said. "I didn't summon you."
"It's not that simple anymore," he said. "It took me a day in the library, but I found precedence." His precise accent became even more officious, and he put the back of his knuckles to his velvet green frock and quoted, "'If said familiar is stationed at a beta site by way of loan or similar event, the master may seek the familiar out to perform duties.'You opened the door by tapping a line," he added. "And since I have a task for you, I'm here until you finish it."
I felt sick. "What do you want?" There was a spell pot on my counter full of an amber liquid smelling of geranium. I hadn't counted on him bringing his work to me.
"What do you want - master," Al prompted, smiling to show me his thick, blocky teeth.
I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I want you to get the hell out of my kitchen."
His smile never flickered as, with a powerful motion, he backhanded me. I stifled a gasp, lurching for balance. Adrenaline surged as he gripped my shoulder, keeping me upright.
"Funny, funny girl," he murmured, his British elegance chilling me and his beautiful chiseled looks turning harsh. "Say it."
The sharp taste of blood edged my tongue. My back pressed into the counter painfully. "What do you want, oh gracious master from my ass."
I didn't have time to duck as the flat of his hand swung. Pain shocked through my cheek, and I hit the floor. Al's silver-buckled boots edged my vision. He was wearing white stockings, and there was lace where they met the bottom of his trousers.
Nausea rose. I touched my cheek, feeling it burn and hating him. I tried to rise, unable to when he put a foot on my shoulder and forced me down. Hating him all the more, I tossed my hair aside so I could see him. What difference did it make? "What do you want, master?"
I felt like I was going to vomit.
His thin lips curled up in a smile. Tugging the lace from his sleeves, he bent to solicitously help me up. I refused, but he yanked me up so fast that I found myself pressed against him, breathing in the scent of crushed velvet and burnt amber. "I want this," he whispered, running a hand up under my sweater, searching.
My heart raced. Stiffening, I clenched my teeth. I'll kill him. Somehow, I'll kill him.
"Such a touching conversation with your roommate," he said, and I twitched, as his voice had shifted to Ivy's. Ever-after zinged through me as his appearance shifted while still touching me. Red goat eyes stared at me from Ivy's perfect face. Lean and tight, the image of her body wrapped in leather pressed against me, pinning me to the counter. The last time, he had bitten me. Oh, God. Not again.
"But maybe you want this instead," he said with her gray silk voice, and sweat started at the small of my back. Her long straight hair brushed my cheek, the silky whisper pulling an unstoppable shiver from my skin. Feeling it where our bodies touched, he leaned close until I recoiled.
"Don't pull away," he said with her voice, and my resolve grew. He was slime. He was a bastard. I'd kill him for this. "I'm sorry, Rachel...." he breathed, long fingers burninginto tingles where they touched, tracing a line from my shoulder to my hip. "I'm not angry. I understand you're afraid. But the things I could teach you - if you knew the heights of passion we could find." His breath shuddered. Ivy's arms were around me cool and light - gentling me to him against my will. I could smell her rich scent of dark incense and ash. He had her perfectly.
"Let me show you?" the vision of Ivy whispered, and I closed my eyes. "Just a taste...I know I can change your mind."
It was pleading, heavy with her vulnerable desires. It was everything she hadn't said, everything she wouldn't. My eyes opened as my scar flashed to life. God, no. Fire raced to my groin. Knees buckling, I tried to push away. Demon-red eyes shifted to a liquid brown, and his grip grew firmer, pulling me closer until his breath came and went on my neck. "Gently, Rachel," her voice whispered. "I could be so gentle. I could be everything a man can't be. Everything you want. Just one little word, Rachel. Tell me you will?"
I couldn't...I couldn't deal with this right now. "Didn't you have something for me to do?" I said. "The sun will be up soon and I need to get to bed."
"Slowly," he crooned, Ivy's breath smelling of oranges. "There's only one first time."
"Let go of me," I said tightly. "You aren't Ivy and I'm not interested."
Ivy's passion-filled black eyes narrowed, but Al's attention was over my shoulder and I didn't think it was anything I had said. He let go of me, and I stumbled to catch my balance. A shimmer of ever-after cascaded over him, melting his features back to his usual vision of a young British lord of the eighteenth century. The glasses were back to hide his eyes, and he adjusted them on his thin-bridged nose. "How grand," he said, his accent shifting as well. "Ceri."
There was the distant boom of the front door crashing open. "Rachel!" came her voice, high and frightened. "He's this side of the lines!"
Heart pounding, I spun. I took a breath to warn her, but it was too late. My outstretched hand fell as she lurched into the room, her simple white dress furling about her bare feet as she stopped in the archway. Green eyes wide and soulful, she put a hand to her chest atop Ivy's crucifix. "Rachel..." she breathed, dismay slumping her shoulders.
Al took a step and she spun in a dancer's circle, toe pointed and unbound hair furling. She recited an unheard poem laced with darkness, and a ripple of line energy cascaded between us. White-faced and holding her arms, she stared at him, trembling within her small circle.
The stately demon beamed, adjusting the lace about his collar. "Ceri. How splendid to see you. I miss you, love," he almost purred.
The young woman's chin trembled. "Banish him, Rachel," she said, her fear obvious.
I tried to swallow, failing. "I tapped a line. He found precedence. He has a task for me."
Her eyes widened. "No..."
Al frowned. "I haven't been in the library in a thousand years. They were whispering behind my back, Ceri. I had to renew my card. It was most embarrassing. Everyone knows you're gone. Zoë is making my tea. It's the most awful tea I've ever had - he can't hold the sugar spoon with only two digits. Do come back." His pleasant face creased into a smile. "I'll make it worth your soul."
Ceri jerked. Chin high, she said haughtily, "My name is Ceridwen Merriam Dulciate."
A rough sound of mirth escaped him. Taking off his glasses, he leaned an elbow against the counter. Mocking gaze on mine, he murmured, "Ceri, be a dear and make a spot of tea?"
My face went slack as Ceri dropped her head and took a step. Al chuckled when she made a cry of self-disgust and stopped at the edge of her circle. Tiny fists clenched, she fumed.
"Old habits die hard," he mocked.
Bile bubbled up. Even now she was his. "Leave her alone," I snarled.
From nowhere, a white-gloved hand struck me. I spun into the counter, jaw burning. Gasping, I hunched over it with my hair falling about my face. I was getting tired of this.
"Don't hit her!" Ceri said, her voice high and virulent.
"Does it bother you?" he said lightly. "Pain moves her more than fear. Which is good - pain keeps a person alive longer than fear."
My hurt turned to anger. Eyebrows high, he dared me to protest as I found my breath. His goat eyes slid to the head-sized vat he had brought with him. "Let's get started, shall we?"
I looked at the pot, recognizing the brew by the smell. It was the one to make a person into a familiar. Fear chilled me, and I wrapped my arms about myself. "I'm already coated with your aura," I said. "Making me take more isn't going to make a difference."
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
I sprang back as he moved. Grinning, he extended the basket that had appeared in his hand. I could smell wax. "Set the candles," he ordered, amused at my quick reaction.
"Rachel..." Ceri whispered, but I couldn't look at her. I had promised to be his familiar, and now I would be. Miserable, my thoughts went to Ivy as I set the milky green candles at the spots marked by black nail polish. Why couldn't I make good choices?
My grip on the last candle trembled. It had gouges on it, as if something had tried to break the circle by going through it. Something with big nasty claws.
"Rachel!" Al barked, and I jumped. "You didn't set them with their place names."
Still holding the last candle, I stared blankly. Past him, Ceri nervously licked her lips.
"You don't know their place names," Al added, and I shook my head, not wanting to be hit again, but Al only sighed. "I'll set them myself when I light them," he grumbled, his pale face taking on a ruddy tinge. "I expected more of you than this. Apparently you've been spending most of your time with earth magic, neglecting your ley line arts."
"I'm an earth witch," I said. "Why would I bother?"
Ceri jerked as Al threatened to smack me again, her almost translucent hair swirling. "Let her go, Algaliarept. You don't want her for a familiar."
"Offering to take her place?" he mocked, and I took a fearful breath that she might.
"No!" I shouted, and he laughed.
"Don't fret, Rachel, love," he crooned, and I flinched when he ran a gloved finger across my jawline, tracing the path down my arm to my hand to take the last candle from me. "I keep my familiars until something better comes along, and despite you being as ignorant as a frog, you're capable of holding almost twice the line energy that she can." He leered. "Lucky you."
Clapping his white-gloved hands once, he spun to make his coattails furl. "Now. Watch closely, Rachel. You'll be lighting my candles tomorrow. These are words that move mortals and gods alike, making all equal and capable of keeping my circle whole against even Newt."
Swell.