Neon Blue by E Frost (best book reader .TXT) 📗

easy access any time I want. So play nice.

His blood’s still inside me? I gag, slap my hand over my mouth. “Go back to Rowena’s,” I hiss through my fingers.

“You miss the morning news? Tragic fire. Three people killed. Messy, messy.”

“Three?! But—”

The demon shrugs. “I haven’t been topside in a while. Forgot my own strength.”

I shudder. And he wants to stay at my place? Not a chance.

You’re stallin’. An’ I’m losing patience. I feel him ruffle through my mind. I clamp down, try to push him out. But my mental muscles are flabby. I haven’t done anything like this since college. The demon easily plucks the memory of where I live out of my head.

He stands and moves toward the door. “See you later.” He blows me a kiss.

Not if I can help it.

“You want anything particular for dinner?” he asks, his innocent question ruined by his wicked leer.

“Get out!”

He chuckles and sidles out of my office.

I sink back into my desk chair. When my shaking finally subsides, I pick up the phone.

My first call is to Manny Goldberg, to tell him that I’ve got his thrice-damned ring. The second call is to Lin’s brother, Wen-Long, after I get his number from Evonne. Wen answers his cell on the second ring. “Talk at me.”

“Hi, this is Tsara Faa—”

“Linnie’s friend. How’s it going?”

I clear my throat. “Not so good actually. I’m calling for advice. But I, uh, I wonder if we could keep this between us? I don’t want to worry Lin.”

“No probs. The big sis, she is a worrier.”

I manage a weak laugh. “Yes, she is. So, um, this is the thing. I’ve been tracking down a ring—”

“An inferiarcus. Linnie mentioned it.”

He knows the technical term for it. I take that as a good sign and push on. “Right. And, well, it turns out that it actually works. That is, uh, someone used it to summon a demon—”

“Hate it when that happens.”

Small laugh. I’m getting better. “Me, too. Any ideas on how I send this demon back? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never dealt with a demon before.”

“Me, neither. The dead are more my thing.” I hear a scritching noise over the phone, like he’s scratching a bristly chin. “You got any idea what flavor it is?”

“Flavor?” I repeat, not sure I’ve heard him correctly.

“Uh-huh, there are different kinds of yaoguai. Might help if I knew what type it was.”

The really scary type. “No idea. I could, um, ask him.”

“You could?”

What harm could it do? “Yeah, hold on.” I put my hand over the mouthpiece, in case I end up cursing out loud. Or screaming.

It’s not even an effort to reach the demon. All I have to do is think about him and I can feel him, right there, in the back of my mind. Are you busy invading my home?

Nope, still driving. Your memories are fucking confusing. And who put these one-way streets all over the place?

I control a mental ‘ha’. Boston is a maze for the uninitiated. I hope he spends the next several days trying to find his way out of East Cambridge. Maybe the locals will take care of him for me. Some of them are scarier than he is. I have a question. What flavor demon are you?

Butter pecan, he thinks, without missing a beat. Why?

I roll my eyes at the ceiling. I hate demons. Never mind.

Aw, fuck. Now I’m going the wrong way. C’mon, witchy-poo, help me out. How do I get to your place from Binney Street?

He’s screwed. I’ve never figured that out in all the years I’ve lived here. No idea. Stop and ask directions. The natives will help you.

Or eat him. A girl can hope.

He chuckles into my mind. Yannow, witchy-poo, I could get to like you.

I uncover the receiver. “He’s not being helpful,” I tell Wen.

“Sounds like a demon. Listen, I’ve just been trying to remember some of grandfather’s stories. Most demons want something. Like true immortality. That’s why they make their Journey to the West and all. What’s this demon want?”

I sigh. “My soul.”

“Oh.” He’s silent for a moment. “That’s . . . bad.”

“You have no idea.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s not get negative here. I’ve got an idea, but I want to run it past this guy I know first. Can I call you back?”

“Any time.”

“It might be tomorrow. This guy’s hard to get a-hold of sometimes.”

A night with the demon in my house. I’m staying in a motel. “Sure. Thanks a lot. I appreciate the help.”

“No probs.”

After he hangs up I sit and stare at the phone for several minutes. I’m out of ideas. Out of resources. I don’t know how to get rid of the demon and I don’t know who else to call for help. Finally, I rise and make my way into my hearth room. If I can’t help myself, I might as well help others. And a cup of decaf hazelnut crème won’t hurt, either.

Chapter 15

I stay late, waiting for Manny, who has promised to pick up the ring on his way home. After he comes and goes, with a hug that seems heartfelt and would be nice if I wasn’t so sore, I potter around my office. Clearing my desk. Tidying up. Dictating needless file notes. Anything to keep myself occupied.

I’m just beginning to wonder how bad it would be to sleep on Lin’s acupuncture table when the phone rings.

I nearly jump out of my skin. The night service is on. Calls shouldn’t be coming through to my line.

Warily, I pick it up. “Hello.”

“You’re late,” the demon drawls. “Dinner’s gettin’ cold.”

I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. “Leave me alone.”

“Ain’t gonna happen. When’re you comin’ home?”

As long as he’s there? Never. “I’m not.”

“Wrong answer,” he says. His voice drops, grows darker. “Try again.”

“I have too much to do here,” I improvise. “I’m going to pull an all-nighter.”

The demon scoffs. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Be ready.”

“I’m not coming home,” I grit through my teeth.

“Wanna bet?” It’s a growl now. “Remember the