The Turn (The Hollows 0.1)

“Trisk!” Quen reached through the bars of the cage, his arm dropping. “You don’t have a candle, ash. Nothing. I forbid it. Someone might see you!”

We should be so lucky. “You forbid it?” she said, eyebrows high. “They’re all dead, Quen,” she said, pointing at the silent offices. “No one knows we’re in here. If we don’t get out, the entire human population is going to vanish. I don’t want to be responsible for that. Do you? We can stop it. I intend to.”

Breathless, she tapped a line and sent the cool energy to fill her circle. Her pulse quickened at the different feel to it as it rose, tainted with her aura. It was a blood circle, heavy with intent. Gally would show if only to know why she’d drawn one.

Quen stood silently at the bars, knowing she was right, knowing she was risking all their lives. Beside him, Daniel watched in unexpected anticipation, not a lick of fear on him.

“Besides,” she said as she steadied herself, “I don’t think we’re going to get to Detroit. Sa’han Ulbrine wants proof? I’ll give him proof.” Taking a deep breath, she exhaled.

“Algaliarept, I summon you.”





21




Breath held, Trisk watched the smoky black haze fill her circle. Her instructor had told them it was the demon looking for any weakening of will or unexpected conduit either above or below ground that could be exploited. She’d drawn blood circles before, but never actually used one to contain anything. It felt different from a chalk line or salt circle: deeper, with more intent.

“Holy crap,” Daniel whispered as the haze thickened, shrank, and finally coalesced into the familiar but unsettling figure of Algaliarept.

“This is different,” the demon said, his lip curled in distaste as he poked at the tight confines. It was a relief that he hadn’t shown up as Kal or that unsettling “beach guru” but in his crushed green velvet frock, lace, white gloves, shiny boots, and the round blue glasses he liked to look over at her to make her feel stupid.

Unmoving because of the close confines, Gally shifted his head to see Quen and Daniel. He jumped when his elbow hit the inside of her circle and a whiff of burnt amber grew stronger. “Just because you are in a cell doesn’t mean I should be. This is barbaric.”

Barbaric, perhaps, but the circle was holding, and her breath slipped from her in relief. “My finger wasn’t going to bleed long enough to make it bigger.”

Again, his nose wrinkled as he took her in, eyes lingering on her helix necklace in interest. “Perhaps you should have chopped it off. It would bleed then. Why do I smell . . . dead human?”

“Because there are some in the room next door.” Quen’s shoulders were tight around his ears. Daniel just looked shocked—at the demon, not the dead-human comment.

A wide smile came over Gally’s face as he leaned to look toward the open door, and he beamed, showing his flat, blocky teeth. “You are in a delightful pickle. Come for another favor, Felecia Eloytrisk Cambri?”

Trisk frowned. “There should be a ‘doctor’ in there somewhere,” she muttered, and Gally inclined his head, laughing at her.

“That’s him!” Daniel pointed a shaky finger, and Gally sighed heavily, clearly too tired and blasé to play the evil demon tonight. “That’s who I saw in your barn.”

A new anger pulled Gally’s his brow tight. “No,” he said, wide shoulders hunched. “I will not reimburse you for the purchase of a memory curse.”

“That’s not why I summoned you.” Trisk shifted her weight to ease the ache in her hip.

“You maintained contact with . . . Doctor Daniel Plank,” Gally said tightly. “I outright told you that would break it, and therefore you invalidated any implied warranty.”

Trisk pulled her blanket tighter about her shoulders. “I want the mark off my foot.”

“It was your own stupidity!” the demon exclaimed, jerking when his forehead hit the circle and a ribbon of smoke rose and vanished. “I am so weary of people not treating curses with enough respect. I am an artist!” he shouted, stomping his foot where he usually would have flung an expansive arm. “You can’t use a flower to cut a steak.” He hesitated. “I suppose if you flash-freeze it you could, but honestly, if you want to preserve the anonymity of your species, you kill the offender, not soften them to ignorance with forget charms.” Gally leaned toward the barrier between them, leering. “Especially if you like them.”

Flustered, Trisk glanced at Daniel. “Uh, I called you to give you a sample of my donor virus,” she said. “I want the mark off. As agreed.”

Gally lost his anger, the quickness of it making Trisk think he never had been upset at all. “Truly?” Gally drawled, flicking nonexistent fuzz off his sleeve with his white-gloved hands.