Chapter Thirty-seven
The room was dim, and I was hot. I could smell my conglomeration of perfumes over an unfamiliar, throat-catching incense, but the heavy weight atop me had the familiar feel of my afghan. The sound of birds coming in my open, dusky window was soothing, and the warm spot beside me said Rex had been here. My curtains were closed, but predawn light filtered in as they moved in the breeze to tell me along with my clock that it was just before sunrise.
I took a slow breath, feeling the air slip in with barely a twinge of pain. Just muscle aches. A chanting heavy with ceremony came from the sanctuary, and the ting of a bell. The scent of incense wasn't vampiric but herbs and minerals. To be quite honest, it stank.
I managed to sit up. My heart quickened, and I put my back to the headboard. Wincing, I touched my neck and the bandage there. It felt okay, and my hand moved to my middle when it rumbled.
My face lost all expression as I realized that the confusion was gone.
I sat on my bed, worriedly remembering Ceri and David. A pulse of fear shot through me. Minias had been here, and I had literally been out of my mind. Where was the curse? Ceri was going to take it out. Oh, God, Ivy. She had been savaged by Piscary. But I remembered her in the car. She had been alive. Hadn't she?
I flung the covers off, ready to find out who was here and demand some answers - but when the cooler air hit me, I realized I had a more pressing problem.
"Uh... I have to go to the bathroom," I murmured, swinging my feet to the floor, not nearly as fast as I wanted to. A myriad of aches and pains hit me. I was shaky, too. Carefully, I stood with my hand atop the bedpost for balance. Last time I checked, I had been in that gorgeous bridesmaid dress. Now I was in a pair of panties and a long T-shirt. Atop my dresser among my perfumes and sitting on Nick's file were my hairbrush, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and some bandages.
I shuddered when something passed through my aura with the tinkling of silver bells to leave me with the sensation of wintergreen. I'd never felt the like, but it hadn't hurt. More like the pristine pricks of snow on your upturned face. Uneasy, I pulled up my shirt to see the bruises and scrapes in my bedroom mirror. I wasn't dead. Hell wouldn't have me in a Takata STAFF shirt, and heaven would smell better.
I heard the front door shut, then silence. Moving slowly, I headed to the door, feeling every muscle protest. I had to use the bathroom in the worst way. But as my hand reached for the knob, I froze. My nose was tickling. I was going to sneeze.
A thread of alarm unrolled as I took a deep breath, trying to stop it. My hand went to my bandaged neck to hold me in place as a sneeze shook me. Hunched, I sneezed again, then again.
Crap. It's Minias.
"Where's my scrying mirror?" I whispered, panicking as I looked over my dark room. Lurching to my closet, I flung the door open. I had put it in here. Hadn't I?
Pain jolted me as I dropped to my knees, flinging aside boots and magazines as I searched. I sneezed again, grimacing at the throb in my neck. I couldn't see in the darkness of my closet, but a cry of relief passed my lips as my fingers found the cool glass. Staggering to my feet, I backed out and into my room.
My hair swung into my eyes, and I plopped onto my bed. I put my hand on the glass and froze, trying to remember the word. But it was too late.
I spun where I sat at the soft pop of displaced air, springing to my feet with the mirror in hand. Minias stood in the shadowed darkness between me and the closed door, his funny hat atop his brown curls, that exotic purple robe draped over his wide shoulders, and the glint of bare toes catching the faint light.
"No!" I exclaimed, terrified, and Minias raised his hand. I didn't wait to see what he was going to say. Hefting my scrying mirror, I swung it at his head.
It connected, pain reverberating up my arm. Minias yelped, and the mirror shattered into three heavy pieces. Wide-eyed, I fell back, shaking my stinging hand and tapping a line.
Ugly words I didn't understand fell from the demon, and, continuing to backpedal, I made a circle. But it wasn't set from a drawn line. I knew it wouldn't stand.
Striding forward, Minias jabbed one finger into my circle, and it fell.
I retreated to kick him, but he caught my foot before it reached him.
Fear iced through me when he didn't let go, hopping me backward and pushing me onto the bed. "You stupid witch," he said in disdain, then slapped me.
Stars exploded, and I think I passed out, because the next thing I knew, Minias was bending over me. Gasping, I thrust my palm, jamming his nose. The demon fell back, swearing at me. "Get out!" I exclaimed.
"I'd love to, you asinine witchanderthal," the demon said, voice muffled by the hand holding his nose. "Will you relax? I'm not going to hurt you unless you keep hitting me."
My gaze darted to the closed door, and he brought his hand from his nose, glancing at it to see if he was bleeding. He murmured a word of Latin, and a glow from my dresser mirror lightened the predawn gloom. My mouth was dry, and I scooted to the headboard. "Why should I believe you?" My throat hurt as if I'd been yelling, and I held a hand to it.
"You shouldn't." Minias looked at his fingers in the new light, then let the hand drop. "You're the most backward person I know. I'm trying to finish up this arrangement so I can return to my quiet life, and you want to play demon summoner and demon."
Pulse easing, I flicked my gaze to the door and back to him again. Someone had gone outside, and I hadn't heard a car start. It had to be Ivy. If she'd been in the church, she would have heard us and come. "I'm safe?" I said softly so my throat wouldn't hurt, wondering if I could trust him. "We're in the middle of a deal?"
Minias took a firmer stance, his head canted in exasperation and his hands clasped before him. "I'm trying to finish it up. The way your Were worded it, I'm not done until I'm sure the curse is out of you and you're back to your usual backward self. And until it is, everyone that was in the room is under a measure of protection. So yes, we are in the middle of a deal." His gaze went to mine, and I shivered. "But you're not safe."
I curled my feet up under me, not liking this at all. "I'm not paying for you to come over here," I babbled. "I was trying to answer. You didn't give me enough time to answer."
"Good Lord!" Minias exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against my dresser. Bottles spilled, and he jerked forward. "It's only a little imbalance," he said, fingers fumbling to stand a bottle upright before he turned to ignore the rest, making me think that for a demon he didn't have much experience in dealing with people. "You make your dates pay for everything, too, don't you?" he added. "No wonder you can't keep a boyfriend."
"Shut up!" I yelled, hurting my throat. Oh, God. Kisten. Piscary had been lying. He had to have been. Otherwise I was going to have to decide if I was above revenge or not. And I wasn't good at telling myself I couldn't have something when I wanted it.
Minias's eyes ran over the lines of my room as I sat on my bed in my underwear and a shirt and tried not to shake. "You have such interesting thoughts," he said lightly. "No wonder witches are ephemeral. You drive yourself crazy. You should simply do what you want without the soul-searching." His goat-slitted eyes fixed on me, and I felt my stomach drop. "It will be easier in the long run, Rachel Mariana Morgan."
My pulse had slowed, and I was starting to believe I was going to survive this. "Rachel is fine," I said, not liking him saying my middle name.
A single eyebrow rose. "You seem to be all right. Any urges to run under the moon?"
Refusing to shrink away, I let him get close enough that the scent of burnt amber settled deep in me. "No. Where's the focus?"
"Feel the need to tear out people's throats?" he asked.
"Just yours. Who has the focus? You took it out, where is it?"
He straightened, and I realized again how tall he was. "Ceri took it out, not me. And if there had been a way to help her do it wrong, I would have."
"Just tell me who has the damned focus!" I exclaimed, and he snickered.
"Your alpha," he said, and my stomach knotted. David? We're back to square one.
"It settled in him as if it wanted to go," the demon added, and my heart seemed to stop. David didn't possess the focus; it possessed him? Like it had been inside of me?
"Where is he?" I said, springing off my bed. But there was nowhere to go.
"How should I know?" Minias lifted a bottle and sniffed the top, recoiling. "He's handling it better than you are. It was made for a Were, not a witch. Taking it in you was stupid. Like dropping a chunk of sodium metal into a bucket of water." The bottle hit the dresser with a clink.
I shifted uneasily, not knowing if I should believe him. "He's okay?"