“Mmmm.” Al brushed his sleeve clean, as if unimpressed. “Pet name for her pixy?”
“For a second full day?” Nick questioned, licking his lips when Al nodded. “Okay. She has no pet name for him. I don’t know why, but she has a lot of respect for him.”
Al’s jaw tightened as he remembered the pixy scoring on his ear. “Perhaps it is because he’s not a coward, freely taking his vengeance upon those who threaten what’s dear to him.” He let the book droop to show Nick a page. “When she’s spelling, does she have coffee at hand? Bite the end of her pencil? I need her quirks.”
Nick hesitated, clearly reluctant. But his eye twitched when Al snapped the book shut, and the demon patiently waited, smiling when Nick bowed his head. Four days would give Nick time to copy almost everything cover to cover—and they both knew it. The exercise would be good for when he had him—body and soul.
“No coffee when she’s spelling,” he said softly. “She’s paranoid about contamination.”
“It’s good practice,” Al said, impressed despite himself. She would make an excellent replacement for Ceri—in time.Nearly there…he thought, hiding his anticipation. Revenge was not best served cold. It was best not served at all, but taken. “Last question, Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos.”
Nick backed up at his lascivious tone, already shaking his head. “I’m not telling you anything about sex, so forget it.”
“Oh, Nicky. You’ve already given me more than I need,” he lied coaxingly. “Indulge my curiosity. Is she a moaner or silent? Aggressive or passive? Does she find a false comfort in the afterglowor fall asleep? I want details. They will make her nights with mesomuch more enjoyable—for me.”
The wizard’s eyes were bright with defiance. “I’m not giving you that. Four days for four aspects of her. Leave the book as agreed, or I own you.”
Al glanced at the book as if reluctant. It had cost him, but if he was right, he’d have what he wanted and his revenge for his damaged library, both. “As you say. But before you banish me, if you tell me what I want to know, you can keep the book. Forever.”
A thrill jolted him when Nick visibly hesitated.Got you, you little pissant.
“So rare a tome…” Al crooned, paging through the book. “So finite. It’s one of Newt’s. That is how much I want to know about our little itchy witch.” Again he snapped the book shut, making Nick jump. “Or do you think you will find yourself one night with my legs wrapped around you?”
Nick’s lip twitched. “I’d know the difference.”
Al shrugged, waiting.
“You’ll give me the book? Forever. Say it.”
“It is already yours.” Al dropped the book with a loud pop. “But the details must be commensurate with the value of the book, or I leave with it and you get nothing.”
Again Nick looked at his door, guilt flashing across him until he visibly shoved it aside, abandoning it like a melted ice cream cone. “She’s more adventuresome than aggressive. Playful? Mostly silent unless she can’t help it. She enjoys the novel, but always in good taste.”
A flicker of masculine pride flashed over Nick, irritating Al. “Does she engage the ley lines?” Al asked, and Nick’s man-pride vanished.
“No, but—”
“She would if you weren’t afraid,” Al guessed, knowing he was right when Nick flushed. “Excellent. Who falls asleep first?” He waited, breathless. He had lost another book, but the information would be useful. Very useful.
“It’s always been me,” Nick said, head down as if only now realizing what a poor excuse of a lover he was. “I fell asleep last time while she was in the shower,” he added as if seeking forgiveness.
Al’s lip curled in an ugly smile. Revenge was indeed sweeter for taking its time—the instant of weightlessness at the top of a swing, the catching of your breath when you see a conquest across the room. “Cleanliness is next to godliness,” he muttered.
“I’ve told you enough.” Nick stood before him, a somewhat panicked look on his face. “That book is mine. Forever. Say it before I banish you.” He hesitated. “I’m never going to summon you again.”
Al glanced down at the book at his feet.Oh, if only that were true, you might survive me.“This book is yours,” he said, a delighted shiver passing through him. “But I warn you. Do not damage it. Understand? It won’t take kindly to abuse. That is your only warning.” He took a slow breath, knowing Newt was watching this through his scrying mirror. She would be his witness if the wizard should call foul. Demons did, after all, have to play by the rules. “Say it.”
“Don’t damage the book. Fine.” Nick took a breath. “Algaliarept, I banish you to the ever-after, to where you will stay until summoned again. Leavenow, and go there directly.”
“A most secure banishment.” Al made a sarcastic, courtly bow before letting the ancient elven curse seize him in a scintillating shower of silver sparks. Anticipation was a ribbon of heat, tempered by the cost of his revenge. Leaving a sacrificial book in reality didnot sit well with him, but he was not a cheat. His reputation would not be called into question. Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos had gotten fair compensation for his information. What he did with it after was the beauty of the scheme. Nick was clever enough to know the value of such a priceless artifact and yet idiot enough to trigger the spell Newt had put on it. All he had to do now was sit back and watch. A delighted tremor shook the last of the energy from him as he reappeared in his library.
“Let go! Let go of me!”
Al spun at Ceri’s cry, brow furrowed upon seeing Newt holding the terrified familiar by the arm. Ceri’s usual finery was gone, and his guilt was a quick flash at the reminder of their agreement. Newt had already dressed Ceri in an insultingly homespun smock. Which raised the question of what Ceri was upset about: Newt’s hold on her, or her new outfit.
“It’s not finished, Newt!” Al bellowed, and the demon let go, chagrined. But only for a moment.
“You agreed that she was mine,” Newt demanded, and Al winced, having wanted to break the news to Ceri gently.
