Light My Fire Page 50


“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, giving Nora’s hand an apologetic squeeze. “I’m sorry to break in again, but this is just silly. Jim is my demon. It responds only to my commands. It can’t give Nora power, or corrupt her, or do whatever it is you seem to think will happen with us living in the same house. Even if Jim wanted to—and you have to admit, as demons go, Jim is not exactly a prime specimen—it couldn’t. Not without my command.”

“Exactly,” Mark said, an oddly satisfied look on his face.

A little light began to dawn in the back of my head.

“Oh, I see now,” I said, goose bumps marching down my arms and legs as the truth hit me. “This is a witch hunt, isn’t it? You don’t want to ban Nora from the mentor program—you’re after me.”

“I can assure you that your name was not mentioned in the complaints,” Santa Greg said, sliding a paper toward me. “There is a copy, if you’d care to examine it.”

“I don’t need to,” I said, trying to imitate Nora’s calm exterior. Rene was trying to signal me something with an odd form of eyebrow semaphore, but I didn’t have time to translate it. “It’s quite clear where this is heading. You are going to use the utterly ridiculous and completely groundless idea that Nora could go through me to influence my demon solely to give us grief.”

“On the contrary,” Mark answered. “We fear just the opposite.”

Next to me, Nora gasped. Rene’s eyes widened.

“I am one of the good guys,” I said, stunned by the unspoken accusation. “I’m a Guardian! I protect people, not harm them!”

“You are also a demon lord, have control of a demon, and are high in the powers of a dragon sept. Although your own powers have not been tested by the guild, it is evident that they are beyond the scope of an apprentice.”

Nora’s hand grabbed my wrist. I bit back the smart-assed reply I wanted to make.

“Is the guild now punishing Guardians who show exceptional talent by deeming them dangerous?” she asked. “I can assure you that I weighed the pros and cons of taking on Aisling as an apprentice. I am aware of the limitations she has regarding her apprenticeship, but I was convinced then—and remain so—that her dedication, her abilities, and her commitment to the guild are sufficient to overcome any obstacles her other roles may present.”

“Aisling is not bad,” Rene said suddenly. “She is different, yes, but that does not make her bad.”

“We have strayed from the purpose of this interview,” Mark said, tapping a pen on his portfolio.

I had to speak or burst. “I think I should be allowed to defend myself just as Nora is allowed. And to be perfectly frank, I’m insulted by the idea that you’d call into question my dedication, not to mention Nora’s judgment and ability to pick an apprentice. I am not a bad person. Jim was an accident—I never sought to become a demon lord and don’t have anything to do with the rest of them. In fact, I don’t have anything to do with anyone who dabbles in the dark powers. None whatsoever!”

There was a ripple in the air behind Mark’s chair. Outside the room, a distant alarm sounded.

“In fact, I don’t even know anyone who . .. er... does...”

The air thickened, twisted, and formed into Obedama. The demon stepped forward, its hands on its hips as it ignored everyone to glare at me. “The lord Ariton has waited for you, but you have not responded. The hour of your appointment with him has passed, and Vexamen is near. You are summoned now to make your fealty to him.”

“Other than Ariton and his minion Obedama, of course,” I said, my stomach wadding up into a little ball as three men burst into the room, each bearing a demon-banishing silver dagger. I slumped back in my chair. My goose was really cooked now ... and I suspected Nora’s was as well.

“Well, that went well,” Jim said a couple hours later, as we emerged into the exhaust-laden parking garage. “Not!”

“We’re free, aren’t we?” I pinched Jim’s ear.

“Ow. Demon abuse!”

“Stop complaining. It’s not like you were grilled, anyway. Or had to put off a demon lord. I just hope Ariton isn’t going to be pissed that the Guardians sent his minion to Abaddon when I told it I couldn’t talk to him right then.”

“I’m sure she gets hazard pay.” Jim paused, an odd, abstracted look on its face. “Oh, boy, I should have gone with Nora when she took Paco to the park. Emergency walkies! Like, right now!”

“What are you going to do with the demon lord?” Rene asked just as Jim bolted toward the exit. “Aisling?”

I had stopped when I spied a familiar man standing at the elevator. With one eye on Jim racing toward the street and the other on the man behind us, I shoved the leash at Rene. “Would you mind taking Jim to the square? Nora’s probably still there walking Paco. Here are two plastic bags.... They should take care of things. I see someone I know and just want to find out what he’s doing here.”

“What person? Who?” Rene asked.

“A man who may just possibly be stalking me, and if he is, I’m going to put an end to it here and now.”

Rene looked curious as I turned back the way we came and hurried over to where Peter Burke stood patiently waiting for the elevator. “Hi. Er . . . this is going to sound really rude, I know, but would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“I don’t think the question is particularly rude,” he answered, his eyes just as curiously flat as I remembered them. Either he had an incredible amount of self-control or he was not what he seemed. I decided to try another look at his true self using my super-Guardian vision. “As a matter of fact, I was following you.”

His answer startled me right out of opening the mental door to my powers. “You . . . you admit you’re stalking me?”

“Not so much stalking—just trying to find the opportunity to speak with you once more before I return to Paris,” he laughed, but the laughter did not reflect on his face. It was as if he wore a mask, shielding his thoughts and feelings from humanity.

“I’m glad to hear it’s not a stalking, because my boyfriend is rather possessive, and I don’t think you want to tangle with him. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked, knowing it was probably the same thing he’d wanted last time.

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