Demon Bound

Nothing unusual moved through the trees, no one appeared as a bright spot of heat.
    Jake hadn’t been attacked, then . . . but had dove into the lake.
    His head broke the surface an instant later. His gaze never left her legs as he strode out of the water.
    Alice looked down. Nothing showed. Her boots were laced to mid-shin, and although she’d pulled the hem to her knees when she’d gathered her skirts, her opaque black stockings concealed her skin.
    Without a word, Jake passed her, began climbing the steps. His sopping T-shirt vanished.
    Oh, dear. Lean and tall, with his wet jeans riding low, Jake looked every inch the young soldier he’d been as a human. Alice averted her eyes, her breath coming faster. It was fortunate that she’d settled her nerves during her bath.
    She had a weakness for a man’s strong back—had ever since she was seventeen, at her father’s dig in el-Amarna. In the Egyptian heat, the men working had often taken off their shirts. The first time she’d seen Henry, he’d been among them, and the dust had turned their skin the same worn yellow. But when he’d washed, it had been the palest gold, and Alice had thought it the most exotic, beautiful color she’d ever beheld. So unlike the florid color of the other British men in the sun—those few who would remove their shirts. Jake, with his deep tan, was almost as dark as some of the Egyptian men.
    And her tastes had expanded since then.
    “It’s the Enthrallment,” Jake said suddenly. “It still hits me sometimes.”
    Alice studied him as he crossed the deck. Enthrallment came upon novices in their first years after returning to Earth, when their heightened senses were overwhelmed by the variety and scope of the scents, sounds, sights. But it usually sent the psychic scent into a spin, like inhaling too much hashish or whirling about in a circle. Jake’s was steady—and remarkably solid.
    “I see,” she said doubtfully. “And cold water shocks you out of it?”
    It never had her. Only lying perfectly still, trying to sense nothing.
    “No.” Jake opened the French doors, stopped to disengage the security system. The water vanished from his jeans. An overlong knit sweater appeared in his hands, and he pulled it over his head, tugged it down in front.
    She caught a thread of frustration from his psychic scent before he blocked it.
    How strange he was. Alice followed him through the house, wondering what had sparked his arousal. Certainly nothing on her person; he’d made that perfectly clear earlier. And every day, he saw women exposing far more than a stocking-covered shin.
    Perhaps it had been her boot heel, then. She liked it very well herself. The elongated hourglass mimicked a woman’s form, and provided a wide base for stability. And she’d coated the soles with silken webs for traction and softness; her steps barely made a sound on the wooden floors.
    Pretty and practical. Hardly erotic, but maybe he was one of those men who could hold a teacup in his palm and become excited by its shape.
    She entered the tech room behind him, and felt a movement in her pocket—Lucy, overcome with a sense of urgency, the need to find a new location for her web.
    Alice pressed with her Gift, felt the spider’s body, heavy and full with children. Soon, Lucy . The spider wouldn’t understand the words, but the calm, soothing tone relieved the widow’s unease.
    Jake moved to a long table holding more computers than Alice had seen in one place. The room was all of plastic and metal, and spotlessly clean.
    “I’ve got your pictures from Tunisia,” he said, bending over one of the keyboards. “I don’t have any printer here that can handle the size you’ve been blowing them up to, but I’ll send them out, pick them up tomorrow.”
    She turned away from the wall of security monitors that recorded the exterior of the house. “That isn’t necessary. I can—”
    “I’m ordering copies for me, too. It’s just easier to do them all at once.”
    “Oh. Very well then.”
    He glanced over his shoulder. “This demon you’re looking for—Teqon? You’re in luck.”
    “Oh?” She joined him at the table.
    “Yep. After SI hacked into Legion’s server, some of the demons changed locations, their human aliases. Not him, though. He’s living in Cairo.”
    Egypt. The climate would suit Lucy. “Do you have an address?”
    “Yep. Do you need a ride?”
    “Yes.” She couldn’t take Lucy though the Gates, so she would have to fly