“Shut up, you benighted wizard. I will have her. I know you have taught her how to hide herself from me, but not before I knew she was here. I know she isn’t with that ridiculous earl because I searched that absurd ancient castle of his with my mind, but I scented only that earthly ghost. Tell me where she is or I will destroy you and your lady, Miranda Wolffe, and your precious son. Tell me now.”
Meaty threats from a harmless-looking older gentleman with a demon’s flat silver eyes. So he'd encountered Lady Hilda. Had she protected Lily, somehow help cloaking her? Evidently so.
Prithius was now leaning heavily on his snake-headed cane, nearly panting. Grayson would swear he looked more frail, more insubstantial than he had when he’d come into Grayson’s study. He did indeed look ill. And Grayson believed he knew why.
Grayson laughed again, knowing well it both incensed and fascinated the demon. “I know you must have your potion, but you didn’t bring enough, did you? And here, in Yorkshire, you won’t find your ingredients to brew your potion. How long has it been since you’ve had any?”
Grayson saw both violence and, yes, fear in those demon’s mirror eyes.
He pushed. “An eight-year-old child bested you, Prithius. She put laudanum in your potion so she could escape you. Tell me, if you do not have your potion, what will happen to you?”
“You humans, you gnaw and gnaw, imagine you are so very clever. But you are nothing. I promise you a horrible death if you do not tell me where she is.”
“Oh? And just how will you kill me, Prithius? Hit me with your cane? Curse me with some sort of ridiculous incantation? Viscount Fielding is slight, a middle-aged man. Do you honestly believe you can hurt me so long as you are in his body? I see your hands are trembling. You look ready to collapse. Are you losing control?” Grayson paused, cocked his head to the side. “I think the viscount’s body is only a temporary salvation. Without your potion, it is now your destruction.”
“I will kill your bloody son if you do not tell me where she is!”
Grayson laughed yet again. Prithius made a deep growling noise, more a hiss like a snake, and in the next instant, he walked slowly, carefully, from Grayson’s study, his body bowed, the cane striking heavily on the floor. Grayson heard the front door slam, heard Haddock’s voice calling him a knobby-kneed buffoon.
If only he knew.
But what could Prithius do if he left Fielding’s body? What powers did he have? Not physical, no, not without his potion, or he would have used them on Grayson. Did he have to shed Fielding’s body to use a demon’s magic? Grayson said quietly to himself, “Lily, you are amazing. You’re holding control so he can’t find you.” And he gave thanks to Lady Hilda, who protected Lily when she was learning to cloak herself.
Grayson had to kill the demon or somehow send him back to Manna, and he could only do that by forcing Prithius to leave Viscount Fielding’s body. He turned back to his books. He thought of Pip and felt a brief twinge of fear. Could Prithius find a way to hurt his boy? Hurt Miranda?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cowpen Dale
Church service
Sunday morning
Pip was fidgeting, nothing new in that. Grayson took his son’s hand, gave it a light squeeze, and whispered against Pip’s ear, “By my watch, we have three more minutes before Vicar Harkness gives the benediction. Three minutes, Pip, I know you can hold still for three more minutes.”
Pip gave his father his never-fail adorable kid smile and pinched Brady’s elbow. Brady took Pip’s fingers and squeezed them, making Pip squeak. P.C. smacked her fist down on Brady’s thigh, frowned at him, and scooted closer to her mother in case he retaliated.
After Vicar Harkness gave his too-long benediction, Mrs. Mason blasted the congregation with her favorite organ recessional.
Once outside, the Wolffe ladies were trapped by Mrs. Harkness, leaving Grayson with the children. P.C. said to Grayson, “Sir, Mama told me she’s heard the new earl looks like a romantic prince. When I told her she looked like a romantic princess—I must be honest—Mama looked interested. But then I reminded her if she were untrue to you, you might never take us on adventures again. She laughed, kissed me, told me our future adventures were safe—and that’s a good start.”
Pip said, “I told you, P.C., this romantic prince can’t have Miranda, she’s ours.”
From the mouth of a five-year-old. Grayson could see Miranda only yesterday lifting Pip over her head and laughing, then kissing him all over his face when he’d told her she had a tear in her stocking.
P.C. said, “Sir, when will we meet Lily? Why isn’t she here? Why isn’t the earl here? Is he a sinner? Grandmama said the nicer looking the man the more wicked he is. Mama said your name and allowed that could be true.”
Grayson rather liked the sound of that.
Brady said, “That ain’t—isn’tnice, P.C. My papa said good things about the earl, not a word about any sinner business. I do wonder why the earl didn’t bring Lily to church. Nice name, not all mortifying like your name, P.C.”
To forestall fisticuffs, Grayson said easily, “We’re all invited to Storne Hope for luncheon. You’ll meet Lily. Max—the earl—has a lot to do before he can properly welcome us. This is your treat for behaving so well in church.” Well, it was somewhat the truth.
Grayson was as sure as he could be Prithius would not appear at Storne Hope, not in the chilly harsh sunlight of this fine Sunday. He was a night demon, only hunting when it was dark and quiet and his prey was alone and asleep. He prayed he now knew enough to deal with the wretched incubus, to send him back to Manna. Tonight. And when night fell, Grayson planned to return to Storne Hope. Lily would drop her cloak and Prithius would scent her and come.
Even though he believed he knew what to do, Grayson still worried. What if those pages penned hundreds of years ago by the ancient wizard crouched in his cave in the Bulgur were figments of a fractured brain? You could never be certain if a wizard was outright lying or giving honest instructions as he knew them—like throwing the dust that came from inside a long-dead priest’s thigh bone into a demon’s face. He had to remind himself he was a wizard, he could make things happen. But would it be enough?
But today in the bright sunlight the children would all meet, and hopefully they would all like each other.
