Daniel doesn’t look like an elf. Bothered at the thought, she edged closer, knowing he did, apart from the glasses. “Algaliarept,” she said forcefully. “I banish you directly to the ever-after. Go now.”
But Algaliarept pressed closer to the circle, his excitement obvious. “Why call me if you don’t listen to my counsel?”
“Go!” she shouted, and his expression clouded.
“Good God. You don’t have to be so bitchy,” he said, and with an inward-rushing pop of air, he vanished.
The candle went out. Not trusting he was gone, Trisk leaned forward. But the ash had vanished, and knowing it meant he was no longer there, she let her circle drop. The energy flowing through her left with a scintillating feeling of ice sparkles against her burned hand, and she exhaled. At the ceiling, a faint residue of burned fat remained. She’d leave it for Kal to find. He’d know she’d been summoning demons, and the little dipstick might give her some respect lest she set the demon on him. Not that she ever would. Summoning demons wasn’t illegal, but setting them to kill people was.
Edging past Daniel, she wiped the chalk lines to nothing and swept up the salt, her motions awkward with her burned hand. She grimaced at her whiskey-soaked lab coat, putting it and everything else into the dusty box to take home. Finished, she crouched beside Daniel. “Ita prorsus,” she whispered to undo the charm she’d knocked him out with, and Daniel took a quick breath. Eyes still shut, he straightened his legs, grimacing.
“Something is burning,” he slurred, then blinked his eyes open. “Trisk?”
She smiled thinly, wishing she could turn on the exhaust fan, but the stench might bring someone investigating. “You passed out,” she said. “Why are you drinking whiskey?”
Struggling, he sat up against the desk. “That’s not whiskey. It’s regret, with an ‘I’m screwed’ chaser.” He felt the back of his head, wincing. “Ow. You heard, right? The government is sending someone to look over my work before they buy it. You weren’t at the meeting. How come you never go to meetings? Everyone else has to.”
“It’s in my contract,” she said, glad he wasn’t talking about demons and candles and circles. With some luck, the episode would be lost in his drunken stupor. Thank God. If he remembered, Daniel would be killed to keep the silence. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Hand on the wall, he got to his unsteady feet. “Colonel Wolfe doesn’t have a degree in anything scientific. Rales says it’s a formality, but I’ve seen this before. Wolfe is going to slap ‘top secret’ on it and shut me out. Give my work to those bastards in Florida. NASA doesn’t give anyone credit but their own staff. My name won’t be on it anywhere. Worse, once they have it, they can do anything they want. I made this to save lives, not end them.”
Trisk’s jaw clenched, her hand on his elbow as she helped him to a rolling chair. “I don’t think they’ll turn it into a planet killer. They want a tactical weapon, too.”
“NASA never did anything for anyone,” Daniel said, not listening as he collapsed into the chair, his eyes on the empty whiskey bottle. “Apart from curing diabetes. And childhood leukemia,” he added. “And Legionnaires’ disease. Malaria.” He frowned, passing a hand over his brow. “Never mind,” he said faintly. “Maybe they should check my work. Give the credit to someone else. What would I do with a Nobel Prize, anyway?” He looked up, blinking at her. “Why are you clearing out Angie’s office?”
“Because I’ve got my own snot-nosed brat coming Monday to help with the patent transfer of the T4 Angel tomato to Saladan Industries and Farms. An old friend from my alma mater, if you can believe it. I probably won’t get my name on my product, either.”
“Oh yeah. I heard about that,” he said, unknown thoughts passing through him. “We are so screwed,” he whispered, then met her eyes, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse me. That was uncalled for.”
She drew back, a rising feeling of disquiet in her. Wolfe didn’t have any scientific credentials, but Kal did, and Rales had told her to give him access to everything. She wasn’t the only one Kal was screwing over. Two for the price of one. “No, it’s entirely appropriate,” she said, sympathy rising high. “You want to have dinner at my house?” she asked suddenly, not wanting him to hurt himself trying to get home. It was a mistake, but she didn’t care. Both their lives were being ripped apart by Kal.
“Yes. That would be really nice. Thank you,” he blurted, falling back into the chair when he tried to stand. “Ah, I don’t know if I can drive.”
A smile curled her lips up as she slipped her shoulder under his and lifted. “I’ll do it.”