Kehlirik narrowed his eyes as he moved slowly closer. He crouched, his gaze traveling over the frame, the door, and even the wall. I knew what he was looking at. To anyone without skill in the arcane, it was just a pretty white door set in a wall that was papered in an elegant flowered design in muted tones of rose and gold. However, to anyone with any skill in the arcane, the door and wall crackled and hissed with power, crawling with blue and purple wards that writhed and coiled malevolently. I grimaced. It hadn’t been so bad before I’d started dinking with the damn protections. Apparently I’d unwittingly triggered something nasty earlier, and now it looked like the level of protection had quintupled—like cutting off one head of a hydra.

Ryan let out a low whistle. “It looks worse now.”

The reyza pulled his attention away from the sinister energies to peer at me. “You have attempted to get through.”

It wasn’t a question, and I twitched a shoulder self-consciously. “Yes. Quite unsuccessfully, as you can see.”

“And you survived.” His nostrils flared. “I am surprised.”

My gut tightened. “It was … close.” I said, my mouth a bit dry at the memory. “I really didn’t think my aunt would put something so lethal in place.”

“She did not,” he replied, returning his focus to the door. Hands on knees, wings tucked along his back, he fell silent again.

My gaze traveled over the roiling potencies on the door. “Then who did?”

The reyza rumbled softly deep in his chest before speaking. “She summoned another to do so. This looks like Zhergalet’s work. He is merely a faas, but his skill with wards is unique and admired.”

“Oh, so my aunt subcontracted her alarm system,” I said with a relieved laugh. Kehlirik turned his head and blinked at me. “Sorry. I thought she’d done all of this work herself, and I was feeling pretty inadequate since I couldn’t even dream of doing anything this intricate. But now that I know she summoned someone to do it for her, I don’t feel so bad.”

Kehlirik looked back at the door, then stood, shifting his wings on his back and folding his arms across his chest. “It is an impressive piece of work. There is an underlayer of protections here that seems to be fairly standard. It would prevent the average human from entering and would prevent most from even recognizing that the door exists. Aversions,” he gestured with a clawed hand to a coil of purple energy, “to make one reluctant to be here.” But then he shook his head. “But those have been in place for years. Zhergalet placed deep protections on this door recently—perhaps three turnings of this world’s moon.”

Something my aunt had been working on three months ago? Then I went still. That was about the time that the Symbol Man murders had started again. Right about the time that I first encountered Rhyzkahl. Could that be why she wanted to close her library off? To keep me out? Or to keep out Rhyzkahl? Surely she trusted me more than that. I felt hollow but also incredibly confused. The wards in place were extreme and deadly. Why the fuck had she become so protective of this room three months ago?

I scrubbed at my face, disturbed on innumerable levels. “All right, can you get in?”

He was silent for several heartbeats, then gave a grave nod. “It will not be swift. It will take me until tomorrow night.” Then his gaze locked on mine, and his lips curled back from his wickedly sharp teeth. “Usually I would request renegotiation of terms or demand an admission of debt, but as you are the favored one of Rhyzkahl, I will grant this service as my gift to you.”

I quickly controlled the shocked expression that was surely on my face and produced a weak smile instead, thinking furiously. I didn’t know which lord Kehlirik served. I assumed he served one, since that was one of the best and easiest ways for demons to gain status—to serve a high-standing lord. And from what I knew of the demon realm, and from what my aunt had told me, Rhyzkahl was one of the highest of the lot.

But did Kehlirik serve Rhyzkahl, or was he trying to curry favor with him? Either way, I had no idea how risky it could be to accept such a gift. Few things were truly gifts among the demonkind. On the other hand, refusing a gift could definitely be construed as a major insult.

Shit. I needed that library available to me. I looked back at the reyza. “Honored Kehlirik, your gift is precious to me, and it will not be forgotten.” He inclined his head gravely as I controlled the urge to sigh. I had no idea if I’d just screwed up colossally by accepting it, but rejecting it seemed like a quick ticket to an insulted retaliation.

Whatever. I didn’t feel like worrying about it at that moment. I had plenty to worry about already. And normally I would have loved to stay and watch the demon work and perhaps learn some new techniques and skills, but, despite my earlier nap, fatigue dragged at me. Summonings of reyza were exhausting affairs. “Kehlirik, do you need me to stay here with you while you work?”

The demon shook his head, already beginning to tease layers of arcane energy apart. “No, summoner. But you will need to adjust the anchors holding me in this realm to permit me to stay through the day.”

Now I felt like an idiot. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that the task I’d set him might take more than a few hours. I’d summoned him and bound him to this sphere with lunar potency. When day came, those bindings would unravel and he’d be drawn back to his own sphere. Moreover, since being drawn back like that wasn’t a proper dismissal, it was supposedly quite painful for the demon.

I had only one problem. I’d never had any need to adjust anchors and had absolutely zero clue how to do it—and I highly doubted that he was going to teach me for free. I cleared my throat. “Honored one, I do not know this skill. I will be in your debt if you would teach me.”

Kehlirik peered down at me, silent for long enough that I had to fight the urge to hang my head in shame. Then he turned to me fully, spreading his wings, or at least as far as he could spread them in the width of the hallway. He folded his heavily muscled arms across his chest. “I accept your admission of debt, Kara Gillian. We will negotiate the terms on your next summoning of me.”

My neck was getting a crick in it from looking up at him. “Yes, honored one.”

“I would also speak with you at length”—his gaze flicked to Ryan and then back to me—“in private, before you dismiss me back to my own world.”

Hunh. Did he want to tell me something about Ryan? Or did he just not want Ryan hearing whatever it was he had to tell me? Either way, the comment left an unpleasant churning in my gut. “Agreed,” I said, doing my best not to show how much the request unnerved me.

Kehlirik rumbled, looking again at Ryan. I thought the demon was going to hiss and growl, since the expression on his face was certainly malevolent enough, but he did neither. He snorted, nostrils flaring, then unfolded his arms and returned his attention to me. I saw Ryan roll his eyes and flip the demon off behind his back—something that would have made me laugh out loud a few minutes ago, but now I had too much uncertainty roiling through me. For a brief instant I hated the demon for stealing away the companionable ease I’d felt with Ryan, but I knew I couldn’t put all that on Kehlirik. Rhyzkahl had seeded doubts already with his insinuations that I didn’t know all there was to know about Ryan. Kehlirik had merely brought all of that out into the open with his obvious antipathy. And why the fuck would any of the demons know who Ryan is anyway?

“Abide closely, then,” the demon said, yanking me out of my tortured musings, “and I will show you how to re-anchor.”

The lesson was a quick one, though it still left me sweating. It wasn’t a difficult procedure, but it was oddly complex. Still, Kehlirik seemed pleased enough with my grasp of it and carefully walked me through the procedure.