Blood Price

it couldn't accept.

    Vicki attempted to breathe shallowly through her teeth, glad for the first time she couldn't really see . Every fear she'd ever held, every nightmare, every terror from childhood to yesterday came with the ill-defined shape in the pentagram. She clamped her teeth down on the urge to wail and used her physical condition-the pain, the weakness-to insulate her from the Demon Lord. I hurt too much now to be hurt any further.

    The thing in the pentagram seemed amused by that.

    Colors ran together in ways that colors could not, creating shades that seared the heart and shades that froze the soul, and they built a creature with blond curls and blue eyes and very, very white teeth. Slender and hermaphroditic, it laid no claim to either sex while claiming both of them.

    "Enough," said the Demon Lord, and the terror damped down to a bearable level. It checked the boundaries of its prison and then the lives around it. Coreen, it ignored, but by Vicki's side of the pentagram it squatted and smiled approvingly at the patterns of blood on the floor.

    "So, you are the life that opens the way for my power." It smiled and Vicki gave thanks she could see only a shadowy outline of the expression. "But you're not being very cooperative, are you?"

    Only the nonresponsiveness of her muscles gave her time to fight the compulsion that she lower her bleeding wrist back to the floor. A sudden shock of recognition lent her strength. "I . . .
    know you." Not the face, not this creature specifically, but the essence, oh, the essence she knew.

    "I know you, too." Something writhed for a second in the Demon Lord's eyes. "And this time, I've won. It's over, Victoria."

    She really hated that name. "Not till . . . fat lady sings."

    "A joke? In your position? I think that your strength might be better spent pleading for mercy." It stood and dusted its hands against its thighs. "A pity I can't allow you to live. I'd get such pleasure from your reactions to my plans."

    All Vicki wanted at that moment was enough saliva left to spit.

    It turned to Norman, still cowering by the hibachi. "Stand!"

    Scooping up the grimoire, holding the book like a talisman, Norman rose shakily to his feet.

    "Release me!"

    Norman's lower lip went out and his expression grew decidedly mulish. "No. I called you. I am your master." He had the power, not this thing. He did.

    The Demon Lord's laughter blew the windows out of the apartment.

    As though there were strings attached to his shoulders and the Demon Lord was the puppeteer, Norman began to jerk toward the pentagram. "No," he whined. "I am the master."

    He's fighting, Vicki realized. She would have expected his will to be swept aside like so many match-sticks. Conceit and self-interest made a stronger defense than she thought.

    * * *
    As Henry stepped out of the elevator onto the ninth floor, the smell of blood almost overwhelmed him. It rose over the pervasive demon-taint and drew him to the door he needed.
    The door was locked.

    The metal held. The wood of the doorjamb splintered and gave.

    * * *
    Vicki heard the noise as though it came from a great distance away. She recognized it, understood its significance, but just couldn't seem to care much.

    The Demon Lord heard the noise as well but ignored it. It kept its attention on Norman who stood inches from the edge of the pentagram, sweating and shaking and losing the battle.

    The word seemed mostly consonants and it tore at the ears as it tore at the throat.

    The Demon Lord snarled and turned, its patina of humanity slipping as it moved. When it saw Henry, its features settled and it smiled. "You call my name, Nightchild, are you the champion here? Have you come to save the mortal world from my domination?"

    Henry felt it stroke at his mind and swatted the touch away, his own snarl barely less demonic as he answered. "Go back to the pit, spawn of Satan! This world is not yours!"

    "Spawn of Satan?" The Demon Lord shook its head. "You are showing your age, Henry Fitzroy. This world does not believe in the Dark Lord. I will enjoy teaching it differently and you cannot stop me from doing exactly as I wish."

    "I will not allow you to destroy this world without a fight." He didn't dare take his eyes from the Demon Lord's to look for Vicki although he knew it was her blood scent that filled the room.

    "Fight all you wish." It bowed graciously. "You will lose."

    "NO!" Norman stood, splay legged, grimoire tucked under his arm,