“Not yet.” Myra flipped out a clipboard with a very familiar looking document attached.
Of course, she’d brought the demon contract with her. Right place, right time.
Xtelle wrinkled her long nose. “Did you have to use three-point type?”
I glanced at the page, glanced at Myra, then back at Xtelle. “That’s fourteen, at least.”
“And double spaced,” Myra added. “Oh, that’s right. You’re ancient. Here, let me help.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out a pair of over-large, high magnification, tiger-striped reading glasses.
“I…you…she’s mean,” Xtelle yelled at me.
“Ponies don’t talk,” I reminded her. There was no one around. I’d chosen this parking spot for a reason.
“I’m not a…you’re not the boss of me here.”
“As soon as you sign that contract and come to Ordinary, I will be. But if you want to run around out here in the big world being a talking pony, all the power to you. I’m sure the lab where they’ll dissect your brain will be very cozy.”
She stomped her front hooves. Both of them. Then she turned a little circle stomping each hoof down on the pavement as hard as she could, while she muttered, “Smash you, smash your head, smash your rules, smash, smash, smash.”
When she was facing us again, her eyes were wide and watery and crazy looking. The weird fake grin she wore was troubling.
“I’m so happy,” she burbled. “Just, happy, happy, happy. Let me read that contract and sign on that line. Happy, happy line. Just so happy.” She yanked the clipboard out of Myra’s hand.
“Let me see, happy agreement…between happy parties…” she mumbled through the high points of the document.
Myra took a couple steps forward and plunked the reading glasses on Xtelle’s nose.
Xtelle froze. Then her head moved in that slow-motion swivel usually only seen in horror movies.
“Since the type is so tiny,” Myra said.
Xtelle’s eye twitched.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. My sister wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even an ancient, vindictive demon who was the mother of the man—well, demon—she was dating.
“You are sothoughtful,” Xtelle ground out.
Myra grinned wildly at me over the top of the pony, and I flashed her a thumbs up.
“Pen,” Xtelle demanded, flipping out a hoof.
Myra offered a pen. Xtelle picked it up with her lips. The demon pony initialed, initialed again, then signed on the dotted line, a flicker of pink smoke rising up as she finished her name with a flourish.
A thread of awareness hooked into my chest. She was only the second demon in history who had signed the contract to live in Ordinary. The connection between us was a physical thing.
I didn’t usually feel a connection with other supernatural beings who came to town, but demons were new. It was going to take time for me to get used to how they fit into our town.
“All right.” I reached for the clipboard. “My turn.” I read through the document, looking for any changes she might have made.
The contract was solid. Ryder had gone over it with a fine-toothed comb, plus we’d done all the normal blessings and magical anointments to demon-proof the thing. Bathin had even pointed out a loophole in language so tiny, a gnat wouldn’t have been able to stick a wing through it. Since demons were even more persistent than gnats, we’d reworked the language.
This contract was solid. Rock and earth and mountain solid.
“Stupid contract.” Xtelle lifted her nose and the glasses slipped back up toward her forelock. “Stupid Reed sisters. Stomp them. Stomp them in the hoof hole.”
“What was that?” I asked as I signed my full name and added my initials.
“Shotgun,” she said. “I call shotgun.” She sassed off to the front of the Jeep, opened the door, and wedged her wide butt up into the front.
