For a Few Demons More Read Free Page B

is twisting curses for you, and you’re taking them. If that doesn’t make her your familiar, then what does?”
    â€œShe twisted a curse for me,” I admitted, watching the demon’s long fingers caress the black wood. “But I took the imbalance, not her. That makes her my friend, not my familiar.”
    But Newt had apparently forgotten us. Standing beside Ivy’s piano, the robed figure seemed to gather the power of the room into her, turning all that had once been holy and pure to her own purpose. “Here,” she murmured. “I came to get something of mine you stole…but this…” Tucking her staff into the crook of her arm, Newt bowed her head and held it. “This bothers me. I don’t like it here. It hurts. Why does it hurt here?”
    Keeping Newt distracted while Ceri worked was well and good, but the demon was nuts. The last time I had run into Newt, she had been at least rational, but this was unimaginable power fueled by insanity.
    â€œIt was here!” the demon shouted, and I jumped, stifling a gasp. Ceri’s breath caught audibly as Newt turned, her black eyes full of malevolence. “I don’t like this,” Newt accused. “It hurts. It shouldn’t hurt.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t be here,” I said, feeling airy and unreal, as if I were balancing on a knife’s edge. “You should go home.”
    â€œI don’t remember where home is,” Newt said. Vehement anger colored her soft voice.
    Ceri tugged at me. “It’s ready,” she whispered. “Call him.”
    I pulled my eyes from Newt as the demon began to circle again, dropping my attention to the ugly, elaborate, twin-ringed pentagram drawn with Ceri’s blood. “You think calling one demon to take careof another is a good idea?” I whispered, and Newt’s pace quickened.
    â€œHe’s the only one who can reason with her,” she said, panicked and desperate. “Please, Rachel. I’d do it, but I can’t. It’s demon magic.”
    I shook my head. “Her familiar? Would you have helped Al?”
    While Newt chuckled over my nickname for Algaliarept, her demon captor, Ceri’s chin trembled. “Newt is insane,” she whispered.
    â€œYou think?” I snapped, jumping when Newt slammed a side kick into the barrier, her robes swirling dramatically. Great, she knew martial arts on top of everything else. Why not? She’d obviously been around a while.
    â€œThat’s why she has a demon for a familiar,” Ceri said, eyes flicking nervously. “They had a contest. The loser became her familiar. He’s more of a caretaker, and he’s probably looking for her. They don’t like it when she slips his watch.”
    The lights in my head started to go on, and my mouth dropped open. Seeing my understanding, Ceri tugged me down to her pentagram drawn in blood. Grabbing my wrist, she tuned it palm side up and aimed for my finger with her knife. “Hey!” I shouted, snatching my hand back.
    Ceri looked at me, her lips pressed together. She was getting bitchy. That was good. It meant she thought she—we—might live through this. “Do you have a finger stick?” she snapped.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen let me cut your finger.”
    â€œYou’re already bleeding,” I said. “Use your blood.”
    â€œMine won’t work,” she said from between gritted teeth. “It’s demon magic, and—”
    â€œYeah, I got it,” I interrupted. Her blood didn’t have the right enzymes, and thanks to some illegal genetic tinkering to save my life, I had survived being born possessing them.
    The humming presence of the circle above us seemed to hesitate, and Newt made a sound of success. Ceri shuddered as she lost control of the middle circle, and Newt took it down. One thin, fragile circle left. I held out my hand—consumed with fear. Ceri’s