You Slay Me
Page 53

I was more than a little uncomfortable with this sort of talk, what with the demon I'd summoned lying with its big hairy butt on my left foot. "Er… yes," I said neu-trally, unwilling to commit myself to anything more. Jim, whom I had commanded to silence in order to relieve it from the temptation of making a snarky comment in front of the sisters, rolled its eyes at me. I searched my mind for safe topics of conversation.
"Aisling has a ritual she wishes to conduct," Ophelia said, saving me from resorting to inanities like the weather. "I told her you must first cleanse the workroom before she can perform it."
"I don't want to be any trouble," I said quickly. "If there's somewhere else, somewhere quiet I can do it—"
"We use magic only in the workroom," Perdita said, shooting her sister a questioning glance. "It must always be cleansed first."
Ophelia smiled at me, adding, "It will be no trouble, I assure you. Perdy is ever so fond of cleansing. She likes the incense."
"Cedar works the best," Perdita agreed, her eyes on Ophelia for a moment before turning to me. "What sort of ritual will you be performing?"
Rats. I was hoping to get by without having to tell them, but I supposed it was only fair to let them know. I had a bad feeling, though, they'd tell me I couldn't. The key was to present the demon-summoning so it meshed in with their own beliefs.
"I am seeking proof of the murderer's identity," I said slowly. "My idea was to summon the being that can give me information, question it about its role in the murders, and present the proofs to the police. It is solely in regards to justice that I take such a dramatic step, you understand. I don't perform such rituals lightly, but I feel very strongly that the deaths of Mme. Deauxville and the Venediger must be avenged, and the person rightfully re-sponsible for them must pay for his crimes."
"A being?" Perdita asked suspiciously.
Ophelia gasped, her eyes big pools of shocked blue. "You're speaking of a demon? You wish to summon a demon here, to our haven?"
I nodded, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I know it goes against everything you believe, but you must see that the only way I can gather enough in-formation to turn over to the police is to question the demon used by the murderer to commit the crimes. I swear to you that I will be as quick as possible, and I will be happy to conduct whatever cleaning rituals you like afterwards."
Ophelia and Perdita exchanged glances before turning back to me. Ophelia cocked an eyebrow. Perdita frowned,
and I was convinced she would refuse permission until she shrugged. "Very well, you may summon the demon, but we will be present when you do so. We have respon-sibilities to the Goddess, you know."
I blew out a silent sigh of relief. I wasn't thrilled about having them witness me grill the demon, since it would mean they'd know Drake was responsible for the mur-ders, but it would all come out anyway. It couldn't hurt to let them find out the truth. "No problem."
'Tomorrow, then," Ophelia said, clapping her hands together happily. "How very exciting that will be! I've never seen a Guardian summon a demon."
"Don't expect too much," I said with a little smile. "It's not very impressive."
Jim rolled over onto its back and presented me with its belly.
"Oh, how. adorable, your puppy wants his tummy rubbed!" Ophelia squealed, getting down on her knees to scratch Jim's belly.
Perdita gave me a measuring look as her sister crooned over Jim (who ate up the attention, the big
demonic ham), finally relaxing back against the lovely rose couch. "You have summoned many demons as a Guardian?"
"Not many," I said, pretending interest in Ophelia and Jim.
"I am always surprised how many Guardians do not appreciate the ways of the Old Religion. I would be happy to instruct you. You have no doubt offended the Goddess with your activities as a Guardian. To appease her will assure you of your place in the Summerlands."
"Uh . .. Summerlands?"
Perdita smiled a very intense smile. It made me even more uncomfortable. There was something about her eyes that made me think of a religious zealot. "You would call it Heaven."
"Ah. Well, you know, it all sounds fascinating, and I'm sure it would be very good for me to learn more about Wiccans, but I really just want to get this murder situation cleared up, and then I really have to go back home. My uncle is already furious with me—"
" 'Where the rippling waters go, cast a stone and truth you'll know.' That is from the Wiccan Rede, the words by which we guide our lives. You would do well to heed it, Guardian."
"It sounds lovely, but—"
" 'Mind the Threefold Law you should, three times bad and three times good,'" she quoted.
And so it went. I sat through several lectures on the sins of being someone who dallied with the dark spirits, all the while extremely aware of the soulless demon who alternated between rolling around begging Ophelia to rub its belly, and mooching in the kitchen. By the evening I was exhausted with trying to keep my tongue behind my teeth. I pleaded an all-too-real headache and escaped to my bedroom, Jim in tow. I surprised myself by falling asleep in a nap that lasted until well after dinner.
When Ophelia woke me, I felt refreshed, my mind made up as to what course it would take.
"You must come with me to G & T," Ophelia insisted, smiling a winsome smile that would have melted the heart of a misanthrope. "Perdy is already there, but I know she'd want you to get out, too."
"Considering my face was plastered across the news-papers of Paris this morning, I don't think clubbing is the wisest choice of how to spend the evening."
"Don't be silly. No one will harm you there—it is neu-tral ground," Ophelia said, opening the wardrobe to see what I had suitable for an evening out. "Besides, Perdy is in charge now. No one would dare cross her."
That statement made me shiver. 'To be honest, I just don't think I'm up to socializing tonight, but there is something you can do for me, if you would."
She turned away from the wardrobe, a disappointed pout evident. "If I can, you know I will."
"Other than Drake, are there any other wyverns in Paris?"
Her pout faded as a puzzled look replaced it. "Wyverns? Yeeees … Fiat Blu is here. He is– the blue