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

things I should be doing. I’m low on almost everything, but it’s probably too late for an excursion into the woods tonight. And I have a major memory charm I should be working on. I grimace at the thought. “I’ll find something to keep me occupied.”

You could wait for me naked. Get in the mood.

I roll my eyes. I’ll wait up, but I’m going to be fully clothed. “Whatever.”

The demon slides his hand around the back of my neck and draws me to him for a deep, slow kiss. It rocks me down to the toes of my new boots. Energy flares like a starburst in my belly. I grab the edge of the bar to keep from falling over.

When he releases me, I’m breathing hard. My mouth’s tingling. Toes curling inside my boots. I stagger away from him.

He leans against the bar and grins. See you later, sweet meat.

Regaining my balance, I push furiously through the crowd of people waiting for tables. There has got to be some way to send him back to Hell.

I vent my anger on the walk home. Slamming the heels of my boots into the unprotesting concrete. Slashing at the air with my hands. Sparks fly. Fallen leaves whip around me in a tiny tornado. Thunder rumbles through the cloudless night sky. I’m so involved in my anger that I’m to the front steps of my house before I realize two figures have risen from my porch swing as I’ve approached.

I pull up short on the bottom step. The smaller of the two figures steps forward. His teeth flash gold in the shadow of his hoodie.

“Wen?” I ask cautiously.

“Hey.” He smiles broadly, gold caps gleaming in the streetlights, and extends his hand. His skin crawls with gray-and-black tattooed faces that peer at me as we shake. I pull him close for a hug. I’ve never been on hugging terms with Lin’s brother before, but I’m definitely feeling huggy towards him tonight.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” I say.

“Things sounded bad, so I figured I’d better come myself. Jus says he can sense the demon. Is he nearby?”

I shake my head and glance at the other man standing on my porch. Tall and lanky with a wild swatch of hair that rises from his head in a frizzy wave.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Justinian Fryer?”

The crackpot from Philly. I’ve seen his picture on his website. It doesn’t do the hair justice.

Wen glances from me to his companion. “You two know each other?”

The tall man shakes his head.

“Only by reputation,” I say. “Are you still speaking Dan-enochian these days?”

Justinian clears his throat. “That wasn’t me. An un-un-unfortunate affiliation.”

Sure it was. I purse my mouth sourly. “Wen, can I talk to you?”

Without waiting for a response, I drag Wen-Long down my front path and along the sidewalk until we’re out of earshot. Just to be sure, I cast a quick cantrip on my porch. All Justinian-the-diabolist’s going to hear is a really annoying buzzing.

“Look, Wen, I really appreciate you coming—” I begin.

Wen holds up his hands. The tattoos extend all the way around to his palms and the moving faces glare at me. “Jus has a bad rep, I know. But he knows his stuff. And he’s got a really good idea to help you get rid of this demon. Honest.”

I glance back at the figure on my porch. Justinian’s sunk back down into the porch swing and is shaking his head like it’s filled with bees. Guess the cantrip is working. “Wen.”

“Give him a chance. Worst that happens is that he’s full of shit and we’ve wasted two bus tickets.”

“Bus tickets,” I say flatly.

“Yeah. I can’t drive. You know.”

I nod. Lin’s told me that the dead manifest to Wen very unexpectedly, and he goes into a kind of trance until they finish what they have to say. Driving during a manifestation would be deadly.

“And Jus doesn’t have a license,” Wen continues.

Well, that makes two of us.

I glance at the man on my porch again and sigh. “Okay, I’ll listen to his idea. And I’ll pay for train tickets back. Least I can do.”

Hopefully my credit card will stretch that far.

Wen puts his arm around my shoulders. I guess we’re on arm-around-the-shoulders terms after I hugged him. “It’s going to be okay.”

I try not to look too skeptical as we walk back up to my house.

Since I didn’t get my after-dinner coffee, I invite the necromancer and diabolist into my kitchen while I brew. Justinian perches nervously at my kitchen table while Wen tries to coax Izzy down from the top of my refrigerator.

“So, what’s this great idea?” I ask, once the machine is perking. To Wen I say, “That’s the demon’s, by the way.”

Wen glances over his shoulder at me, just as the salamander stops playing coy and jumps down into his hands. He holds the little lizard uncertainly, as though he expects to be bitten. Izzy promptly rolls over, exposing his creamy belly.

“He likes to be scratched,” I say with disgust.

“Really?” Tentatively, Wen begins scratching the lizard’s belly scales. Izzy goes into the same paroxysms of delight he did when the demon scratched his tummy. Lizard slut.

“Just hold him over the sink if he starts drooling fire,” I tell Wen. I’m pretty sure the stainless-steel will hold up better than the linoleum.

Justinian flicks his eyes between me and the lizard, as if he’s not sure which one of us is more alarming. I give him a minute to decide. When he doesn’t seem to be moving on from my infernal houseguest, I snap my fingers at him. “Great idea? Hello?”

“Oh, right. Kevin says the demon wants your soul.”

I nod.

“Well, I think you should g-g-g-” His face purples with the effort of getting the word out. “Give it to him.”

“That’s your great idea?” I lean back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “Not to nit-pick, but I have this issue with eternal damnation.”

Justinian rocks back and