“If I wasn’t on call, I’d suggest seeing if that crazy-as-shit aunt of yours has any booze in this house, because I think that we both need to get stinking fucking drunk.”

“I think you’re absolutely right.”

“But,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes, “I have something almost as good out in the car. Good thing I was on my way home from the grocery!” With that she turned and dashed out the door. Less than a minute later she returned, proudly holding a gallon of double-chocolate-fudge ice cream. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s melting. Get the damn spoons!”

I did.

We didn’t polish off the entire gallon—though not for lack of trying—but it was enough for us to get past the weirdness of the evening.

I’d never had a close friend. Ryan was the closest I had, but I’d known him for only a few weeks. And the demons hate him, I had to remind myself. Or at least Kehlirik does. Why? And how the fuck did any of the demons even know him well enough to hate him? I liked Ryan. I really did, but I couldn’t ignore my doubts any longer. And there was also an insecure part of me that wondered if we were friends only because he knew about me being a summoner and he could sense the arcane too.

But now Jill knew about the arcane and the summoning and was cool about it. Or maybe she wasn’t cool about it, but she was going to pretend to be cool about it for my sake, and that was all I could hope for. I trusted her.

And how much do I trust Ryan? the quiet voice whispered at the back of my head.

I’d ended up telling Jill everything about the Symbol Man case—all of the details that had been conveniently left out of my written reports. I even told her about Rhyzkahl, and, more important, I told her what had happened the first time I summoned him. And this was something that I’d never told Ryan. Hey, I summoned a demonic lord and then we had crazy fantastic sex on the rug in front of the fireplace. Ryan was a guy, and guys—even ones you were just friends with—could be funny about hearing details of your sex life when it didn’t include them. Or maybe that was only me being a total chickenshit again. That was more likely, considering my dearth of experience in dealing with guys.

But Jill got it. And when I told her how Rhyzkahl had saved my life, her response was a slow nod and “That is so totally cool.”

I replaced the wards with my own crappy ones, then made it back to my own house, doing my best to avoid thinking about summoning Rhyzkahl. I sat at my kitchen table and tried to distract myself by focusing on the notes from my cases, but the broad door to my basement beckoned me and my thoughts kept going back to the demonic lord. There was a pretty damn big part of me that wanted to see him again, wanted to know where I stood with him. Then there was another fairly major part that was fully aware of how self-serving he was. He was a demon, not human, with an alien moral code. Demons were not good or evil in any sense that we as humans understood. To them, honor was paramount, yet at the same time they never did anything without cause.

So I knew he wanted something from me—wanted my aid, or skills, or wanted some opportunity I could provide for him. He wasn’t asking me to summon him because he missed me, or because he desired me, or because he was fond of me.

That also raised the question of why he had saved my life, but unfortunately I had a feeling I’d already answered that one. He wants something from me. Altruism simply did not exist in the demon ethic.

But that could work both ways. There were things that he could do for me. I certainly had some pressing questions about essences and other arcane matters that I hoped he could answer.

I tugged my notebook out of my bag and tore a clean page out. I had too many questions, and I wasn’t sure if I had time to dig through the maelstrom of disorder that was Tessa’s library. Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to summon Rhyzkahl?

I dug the tip of my pen into the paper as my annoyance with myself rose. There was no getting around it. I’d already essentially made up my mind to summon him. And tonight was the last night that the moon would be full enough to do it until next month.

According to Kehlirik, Rhyzkahl had given his oath that I could safely summon him. And the chances of Kehlirik lying about that were somewhere between none and none. Not with the demonic sense of honor in play. The demonkind could be vicious and dangerous and devious, but they did not lie. Instead, they were deeply skilled at telling truth in a way that would have you believe what they wished.

Screw it. If I was going to do this thing, I might as well make it worth my while. As long as I had a demonic lord at my disposal, I would see what information I could wring out of him.

I had two bodies stripped of essence. I’d start with that. I pulled the paper closer and began to write.

1) Could another summoner be using an ilius to consume essences? And why?

2) And if not an ilius, then what the hell is doing it?

3) Whatever is doing it, how can I stop it from happening again?

I paused, pen on the paper, throat suddenly tight. My next question had nothing to do with the two bodies.

4) Is there any way to recover essence?

This one was all about my aunt. If there wasn’t a way to recover an essence that had been pulled away, then there was no point in keeping my aunt’s body alive any longer.

That wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on at the moment. I took a steadying breath and kept writing. I had some questions that I was fairly certain Rhyzkahl knew the answers to. I wasn’t sure if I would have the nerve to ask him, but I went ahead and wrote them anyway.

5) What the fuck is a kiraknikahl?

6) Why did Kehlirik react with such hostility toward Ryan?

I looked down at the list, then folded it carefully.

I was going to summon the demonic lord.

I was usually nervous before summonings. There was a considerable amount of danger involved—especially in higher-level summonings—and so it was prudent to be overly cautious and meticulous.

The last time I’d prepared to summon a demonic lord, I’d been scared out of my mind—pretty damn certain that my chances of surviving the ritual were slim. But this time I had his word, albeit via Kehlirik, that there would be no reprisals upon me for summoning him.

A demon’s word was inviolate.

But I was scared shitless anyway. There were plenty of dangers other than the demon itself. I stood at the edge of the diagram, suddenly wishing that I’d had more to eat at lunch and had taken the opportunity to nap earlier. The moon was a day past full, which wouldn’t be an issue with any summoning below eighth or ninth level, but this was a demonic lord. Yet Kehlirik had stated that the moon would be full enough, so I could only hope that Rhyzkahl’s willingness to be summoned would offset the slight reduction in potency.

I took a deep breath, forcing my thoughts into the proper mind-set, and began to chant, shaping my will. The portal wouldn’t open at first and I sought to focus harder, but it was like trying not to think of a pink elephant. The crack formed and began to widen, but I felt sluggish, as if I were swimming through tar. I took another deep breath, seeking that point of my will that would shape the portal to my desire. Slowly, agonizingly, it widened farther, an arcane wind picking up and swirling throughout the room as I sucked air harshly between my teeth. My muscles trembled with the unexpected difficulty I was having with this portal. I hadn’t even named the demon yet, but I wondered if the difficulty was because of who I intended to summon, what I intended to summon. The words and the chants were minor aspects of the ritual, and I had shaped the portal from the beginning with Rhyzkahl in my mind. I’m psyching myself out. That’s a sure way to get killed.