I stepped back when I finished and looked at the revised bindings. Now when the night turned to day and the potencies shifted from lunar to solar, the anchors would re-form around us both. It was an interesting piece of work, and I thought I could see something else about it, but, again, I was tired and on edge and didn’t have the energy to delve too deeply into it.

But another thought occurred to me during the lesson. If it had been my ilius that had consumed Brian’s essence, then I was looking at an isolated event, since the demon would have been drawn back to its own sphere at sunrise. I despised the thought that I could be at fault, but it was better than thinking that there was some other essence-eating creature on the loose.

The demon gave an approving nod. “You grasp the concepts quickly. Very well, I will remain here and work.”

“I’ll secure the house and close all the curtains and stuff,” I said. “If anyone comes to the house … just stay away from the door.”

The reyza rumbled again. I figured this time it was the demon version of No shit, Sherlock. “I will place an aversion on the door after you depart,” he said instead. “And I should be able to sense anyone approaching in sufficient time to hide my presence.”

How the hell an eight-foot-tall demon with wings and horns and a tail would hide himself was beyond me, but I decided it was best not to worry about it. I quickly went through the house and locked all the doors and windows, making sure the curtains were all drawn, then gave Kehlirik quick instructions on how to use the phone in the kitchen in case he needed to contact me. Again, he seemed utterly delighted, and I could see he was restraining himself from trying it out at that instant.

“All right, I’ll check on you during the day, then,” I said. The demon merely snorted softly, already engrossed in untangling the wards. I jerked my head at Ryan and headed toward the door to the garage. I half-expected him to give the demon the finger again, but he managed to control himself and followed me out.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, after we’d shut the garage door and were in the truck.

“About what?”

“That demon. I don’t think he’s my best bro anymore. He is so not getting an invite to my next Super Bowl party.”

I shook my head and started the truck. “And people say I’m weird.”

“You are worried.”

I nestled against Rhyzkahl’s chest, the weight of his arm around me a comfort. The sun pierced the broad canopy of the tree we sat beneath, casting a shifting lace of light across us. I could feel the warmth of his breath on the top of my head and I closed my eyes, relishing the exquisite peace of the moment. I didn’t want to respond to him, and besides, it didn’t feel like a question.

But he straightened, ignoring my little whine of protest as he pulled his arm away from me, and stood. I scowled up at him. “I was comfortable.”

“Comfort is a trap,” he responded.

I stood and brushed leaves from my dress. It was a lovely creation of dark-blue brocaded silk, with a scattering of jewels sewn onto a plunging bodice. I felt as if it was a favorite, though there was a faint part of me that knew I’d never seen it before. “Of course I’m worried. I miss my aunt, and something’s eating essence.”

“And I would be pleased to give you such aid as to ease your worry.”

I gave him a sour look. “Give? You don’t just give anything. You’re a demon.”

“Not all prices are onerous.” As if to prove his point, he moved to me, pushing me back against the tree and capturing my mouth in a kiss. His hands braceleted my wrists over my head as his lips shifted from my mouth to my throat. I dropped my head back, groaning as heat flushed through me.

“I do not ask for more than you can give, dear one,” he murmured against my skin. He continued to hold my wrists, tightening very slightly when I tried to shift his hold. His teeth grazed my neck, and a shiver raced through me. “I can show you what you are truly capable of.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Show me.”

He lifted his head, triumph flashing in his eyes, then abruptly released me and straightened. “The sun is rising,” he said, which made no sense, since the sun was high in the sky. He frowned. “This will not be comfortable for you, but it will get easier.”

I came awake with a shuddering gasp as nausea twisted through my body. I sucked in my breath, hands tightening in the sheets as a sensation like the worst hangover I’d ever had rolled over me, literally feeling as if it started at my head and rolled down throughout my body to my toes. Nausea and headache and weakness, and then it was gone, leaving me sweating and shaking, even though it had lasted perhaps only half a dozen heartbeats.

I took an uneasy breath and slowly sat up, images and sensations from the dream shimmering through my head and already beginning to fade like fog under a rising sun. Had that really been just a dream? He’d seemed to know that I was about to feel like shit. But, then again, I could think of countless times when my alarm clock had been incorporated into my dream right before I’d woken, so maybe that was the same kind of thing.

Through my bedroom window I could see that dawn was turning the eastern sky orange and purple, and I abruptly realized what had happened. The potencies had shifted from lunar to solar, and my link with Kehlirik had to re-form. I took another deep breath, nausea all but gone now. Okay, that sucked major ass. Did Kehlirik feel that too?

I glanced at my clock and sighed. It was barely past six a.m., which meant that I’d managed to get only about four hours of sleep.

Complete with a dream about Rhyzkahl. I’m dreaming about him only because Kehlirik mentioned him. That’s all. He was just on my mind.

Suuuure.

I thought about sticking my head under the pillow and trying for more sleep, but the beeping of the pager on my nightstand derailed that line of thought.

I sighed and scrolled through the message: Signal 29, Ruby Est. A death—but at least not a murder, since the signal for that was a 30. So it was someone who had died from either an accident or illness. Hopefully that meant it would be a nice and simple open-and-shut case, but even as I thought it, I knew I was probably jinxing myself.

THE ADDRESS WAS for a section of Beaulac that I very seldom had cause to go into. Ruby Estates was the elite neighborhood for people who had more money than they knew what to do with. It was a gated community with its own security service—though, like any other security service, it was mostly staffed by the kind of people who could be hired for eight dollars an hour. All of the lots were on or near the lakefront, at least an acre in size, and the neighborhood in general was lovely, wooded, and quiet. I had no doubt that there was a fair measure of drug use and domestic violence within the walls in this subdivision, but it was kept quiet enough that we seldom got called out to deal with it.

The address wasn’t hard to find. It was the one with several police cars and an ambulance in front of it—far more attention than any regular person would ever get for a slip and fall. But this was the house of Parish Councilman Davis Sharp and a stunning example of what shit-loads of money could do for you. Davis Sharp had cleared the majority of the trees off his land so that everyone driving by could see his three-story mansion—complete with an absurdly broad staircase that swept up to the second level like some plantation gone mad. Personally, I thought it was a hideous waste of what was surely a few million dollars. But, then again, I lived in a house with peeling paint in the middle of nowhere, so who was I to judge?