She swallowed visibly, throat bobbing in what would have otherwise been a comic manner. “Rhyzkahl.” She let out a ragged breath. “Yet here you are still, and in what appears to be one piece.”
I tried to give a diffident shrug. I didn’t have to tell her about the sex part, did I? “Yeah, well, I mean, I, uh … just remembered what you taught me about dismissals.” I avoided looking directly at my aunt. I am such a damn chickenshit. “So, um … what is he?”
“You … dismissed him,” Tessa stated, voice flat with disbelief.
“I’m still here, right?” I tried to keep my voice steady and blasé.
My aunt remained silent, and after several seconds I risked a peek at her face. Tessa crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at me.
“Young woman,” she said in a voice that was cold enough to destroy the entire citrus crop of Florida, “you are going to tell me exactly what happened last night.”
I took a nervous breath. “Not until you tell me who or what Rhyzkahl is.”
I steeled myself for a verbal flaying, but instead Tessa just sighed and nodded. “Yes, you need to know that. I’m sorry I didn’t already teach you that, but, by the spheres! I’d no idea you’d be insane enough to call one of his ilk.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose! Who is he?” I looked at my aunt warily. “Is he some kind of creature that can take human form?”
Tessa shook her head. “No, nothing so simple as that. Library. Now.” She unwound her legs and was out of the room before I could stand. By the time I walked down the hall and into her library, Aunt Tessa was already sitting cross-legged on the floor with a stack of books piled about her.
I set my bag down on a pile of papers on the table. There was no point in looking for a clear space. In fact, I had always thought that library was an inappropriate term for the room. Describing a room as a library gave one the impression that it was fairly ordered, with books on shelves and arranged in some logical manner or system. But order and logic did not apply anywhere here.
True, there were shelves on the walls, all of which were filled with books or papers of various types, but the books were shoved onto the shelves in a completely haphazard manner, often without any attempt to keep the spine out to make it easier to look for a specific title. There was no free wall space; absolutely every inch, from floor to ceiling, all the way to the molding around the door, was bookshelves. A broad wooden table dominated the center of the room, with two worn leather-upholstered chairs beside it. Books, scrolls, and papers tumbled over one another on the table and chairs, with more piles of books in scattered locations on the floor throughout the room.
And from the center of the ceiling hung an enormous, luxurious crystal chandelier—utterly out of place and looking far more suited to the ballroom of an ocean liner.
I’d once had the temerity to throw my aunt’s own words back at her and point out that the chaos in the library could attract unwanted energy and interfere with her summonings. I’d been rewarded with the crisp response that just because I didn’t understand her organizational system didn’t mean it didn’t exist. Hell, for all I knew she really did have some sort of methodology, but in ten years I had yet to fathom it.
Tessa scratched the side of her nose, then motioned me over. “Are you sure it called itself Rhyzkahl?”
I moved over to my aunt and knelt beside her. “Umm, yeah. Pretty darn sure.” More than sure. Those words were seared into my memory, along with the memory of him lying beside me, his hand resting on my hip, his lips on my skin. The sight of him standing and pulling his shirt on, muscles rippling more pleasingly than any male model—
I abruptly realized that my aunt was peering at me, eyebrows drawn together. I summoned an innocent look and worked on controlling the flush.
Tessa gave me a measuring look, then pointed to a picture in the tome before her. “That’s Rysehl.” The picture showed a wingless creature that looked like a goat/dog/lion, with an elongated reptilian face and small stubby horns that curved up and forward from the sides of its head. A spiky ridge crest rose from the middle of its forehead, extending down to the nape of its neck. In the picture the demon crouched, head tilted to one side as if listening for something. I knew this demon, knew the face. This was Rysehl, a fourth-level demon. The one I’d intended to summon.
I shook my head. “Definitely not what came through last night.”