Max looked tired and worried, but more, he looked angry, ready to kill, truth be told. He’d watched Lily speak to the other children, always ready to grab her up if Prithius suddenly appeared.
Flowers, Max’s ancient butler with snow-white hair, a lovely highlight with his beautiful white teeth, called them into the massive entry hall of Storne Hope. As he ceremoniously led them all into the drawing room, P.C. whispered to her mother, “Mama, Lily is very pretty, and I am hopeful she will make a good friend for me if she doesn’t flirt with Brady.” She turned to Brady. “You will not forsake me for her, will you?”
Brady, no fool, said quickly, “She looks scared. You ain’t—aren’t—ever scared, P.C. After she teaches us about this cloaking business, you can teach her how to make frogs hop and braid her hair like you do.”
This met with P.C.’s approval. She walked to Lily, took her hand, and the two of them skipped ahead into the drawing room. Miranda said to Max, “She is a precious little girl. Neither you nor Grayson will let anything happen to her. Grayson assures me the demon won’t come until it is dark.”
Max nodded. “Please call me Max. Lily also told me he was a night demon and abhors the daylight. I pray they are right.”
Miranda nodded, gave him her hand. “And I am Miranda, Miranda Wolffe.”
Max took her hand, lightly squeezed her fingers. He said, “My life has changed more in the past two weeks than in all my years on earth. Now I am the protector to a little girl who is also a witch. And I know I’d protect her with my life from a demon, an actual demon that shouldn’t even exist outside your novels, Grayson. I know this is but another encounter for you, but for me? It fair to curdles my brain. I am profoundly grateful you’re here, or I don’t know what would have happened. To me. To Lily.”
Miranda said, “I was like you before I met Grayson, Max. Then, much to my surprise, he and I once battled a demon.”
Max’s right eyebrow went straight up. “When this is over, I want to hear about this demon from ancient Egypt.”
Flowers cleared his throat, stepped away, and gave them a sweeping gesture into the amazing drawing room. Grayson immediately looked at the fresco. The man and woman were walking next to a lake, smiling at each other, all was serene, no violence. He drew a deep breath and prayed. He wondered if the resident ghost, Lady Hilda, was about. Probably. If Prithius came tonight, what would she do?
Flowers herded the children to the far end of the drawing room to old chairs and sofas set in front of a mammoth fireplace. The adults heard snippets of conversation, Lily telling them what happened in London, only a trace of fear in her young voice. He was aware Max was listening as well. He saw Lily look up every few minutes and meet Max’s eyes. The bond between them was obvious, and they’d only known each other two weeks. She had indeed changed his life, set Max on a new path.
A maid appeared in the doorway carrying a huge tray. Flowers gestured for her to take the tea and biscuits to the children.
There was a huge meow from the doorway, followed by a large orange cat, tail high and twitching, strolling into the drawing room. He paused, stared around at all the strangers in his house, then padded to Max and jumped up onto his lap. Max automatically began stroking his broad back. The purring volume was amazing. “This fine fellow is Clotis. He hated the trip from London, even though Lily nearly petted his fur off him the entire trip to keep him calm, but now he rules the house and appears quite pleased with Storne Hope. Ah, here is Flowers back with provisions for us.”
Grayson scarce had the cup of tea to his mouth when the demon came.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The front windows shattered, hurling glass into the drawing room. Wind gushed in fast and heavy like blood from a giant open wound. Framed portraits in oil and photogravure were hurled into the air, a lamp toppled, crashed to the wooden floor. The huge room turned black as midnight, but oddly they could still see.
Suddenly, the wild wind simply stopped. Dead silence. The children came running. Max jumped to his feet, grabbed Lily up into his arms, and plastered her against him. P.C. ran to her mother, and both Brady and Pip came to press themselves against Grayson. Clotis arched his back and fluffed into a huge orange ball, hissing toward the destroyed window and something none of them could see.
Grayson couldn’t believe it, he’d been so certain Prithius wouldn’t come until tonight, not now, not during the day, yet here he was. He’d been wrong, dead wrong. Grayson knew soul-eating fear for the children and Miranda, his heart lodged in his throat as he felt both Brady and Pip shuddering against him. He hugged them both, whispered, “Stay still. It will be all right.”
He blanked the fear from his mind. He said aloud, his voice amused, “A bit of drama with flying objects and shattered glass, but I have to tell you it wasn’t very impressive, Prithius, it was all flash, really quite predictable, nothing original. No one is scared. You have nothing more? Why don’t you show yourself? Are you too afraid? The children enjoy laughing at cowards.” He nodded toward Lily and P.C., squeezed Brady and Pip. It was Pip who shouted with laughter, the others following until the children’s laughter filled the vast drawing room. Their laughter sounded hollow, but it was still laughter. Max and Miranda followed suit, a valiant effort Grayson hoped would fool the incubus. Slowly, Grayson felt their fear lessen.Good.
He called out, “Where are you, Prithius? Did your pathetic little show drain you since you have no more of your potion to give you strength, to give you substance, to allow you to remain in Viscount Fielding’s body? You’re too weak, aren’t you? And you’re too cowardly to show yourself in your demon form.”
Miranda raised her voice, pleased it didn’t quiver. “P.C., did you find this demon’s show anything out of the ordinary? Did it bore you?”
P.C. licked her lips, squared her small shoulders, and said, “Mr. Straithmore—ah, Mr. Sherbrooke—believes your demon show was pitiful. Brady and I agree. Brady?”
Brady drew himself up. “You aren’t anything special, just like Mr. Sherbrooke said.” But still he was pressed tightly against Grayson’s side.
Max held Lily so close to him there wasn’t as much as a breath between them, but both looked in full control. Grayson noticed for the first time the knife in Max’s hand.
There was silence now, all their taunts echoing in the vast room. There was no more wind, no movement, only stillness.
Miranda said to Grayson, her voice amused and only he heard the tremor of fear, “Now, my dear, when this pathetic demon appears, if he dares to, do away with him so we may continue with our party.”
Grayson said, “Do you know, Prithius, I had only to lower my cloak and, predictably, you came, like a dog when called by its master. But I admit I am surprised you’re here in the daylight. Only it isn’t daylight in here, is it? You’ve managed to bring the night with you, but you couldn’t blind us, we still see all perfectly well, but I don’t see you. Are you hiding behind the draperies, too afraid to come out, too spineless?”
Lily called out, no tremor in her young voice, “Prithius, you cannot hurt me anymore. Mr. Sherbrooke is right, you are a coward. Have you left my uncle’s body? I want to see you as you really are.”
There was nothing, no sound, no movement.
Max called out, “Listen to me, demon, I know you have no more potion, and you need it, don’t you? Without it, you cannot remain in his body. I imagine he would very much like to be free of you and enjoy a cup of tea.”
