Demon Bound

you’re still taking up oxygen, Jackie boy. Believe me.”
    Jack fished another fag out of the pack. He could only take so much inane chatter from Hell’s denizens before the craving for nicotine made him more than a shade rude. He sucked in smoke, relished the burn as something real to cling to while the demon’s smoky, musky aura swirled around him, poisoning the air breath by breath.
    “I sense this is going somewhere,” he said. “In the slow and meandering manner of a London bus in rush hour. Care to cut the journey short? I’ve better things to do, like go downstairs and drop a tire iron on me foot.”
    “There’s another,” the demon said. “Another man. Equally desperate when we met.” The demon bared its teeth. “But he fancies himself far, far cleverer than you, Jack Winter, in the most odious way possible.” The demon gave its tie an irritable stroke, smoothing out all its wrinkled edges and glaring at nothing.
    Jack grinned around his fag. “I don’t believe it. This bloke found a way to cheat you?”
    “That’s a bloody lie!” The demon flared, and the witch-fire in his eyes moved, slick and oily like ripples across a pool of runoff.
    “All right, he didn’t.” Jack shrugged. “No skin off me that you’re in denial.”
    “Oh, but it will be,” the demon said. “If I lose one of my charges, I will lose all of my charges, and the one who takes them from my cold, lifeless hand will not be a sweet forgiving old sot, like me.”
    “I’d hate to see who’s unforgiving in the Pit,” Jack said. “If you’re the nice old granny of the lot.”
    “Someone must go among the pagans of his hiding place,” the demon said. “Someone must return him to my patch to face his trial.”
    “And this someone can’t be yourself . . . why, exactly?” Jack exhaled. He’d swear, if demons could look put out, his would at that moment.
    “It’s not my land,” the demon said stiffly. “It’s not mine to trespass on.”
    “Someone bigger ’n’ badder than you runs the patch!” Jack laughed, and it turned into a cough when he sucked smoke down the wrong pipe. He hacked for a moment, eyes watering. One of these days, he should really slap on some of those patches Pete was always buying and abandoning around his flat.
    “You’re treading on thin fucking ice, mage,” the demon hissed. “Be mindful of the next step.”
    Jack watched his fag ash for a moment. He could smart off all day long but it didn’t change the fact that he would have to give the demon an answer. A yes would bring him that much closer to the bosom of Hell. A no would only start his clock unwinding again, the number growing alarmingly low as the days passed.
    “Maybe you should abandon this cryptic shite and tell me what you want,” he said finally. “Because I’m bored, mate. Dead bored, of your mysterious appearing and your riddles and your fucking
Saturday Night Fever
wardrobe.”
    “What an apt choice of words,” said the demon. “Youalways had a facility, didn’t you?” It scratched its chin and then said, “Go to the pagan city and bring this man home. That’s all you have to do, Jack. He’s a mage, like you. He even plays a bit of music. You two lads should get on famously.”
    Jack shifted his posture, only a little. Shoulders forward, arms folded. Every smallish boy turned skinny bloke learns how-to-make themselves look bigger, if they don’t want an arse-pounding or worse. Jack had the advantage of height on the demon, but he still felt its magic like a boot on his chest. Made him defensive, like the demon had come in and pissed all over his belongings. “And if I bring your little lost lamb to the fold? What then?”
    “I suppose I’ll owe you a favor, won’t I?” The demon showed its teeth.
    Jack returned the gesture. “Not good enough. I want your word. I want something tangible.”
    “Oh?” The demon raised its eyebrows. “Conditions. And specifics. The little Weir’s taught you well, my son.”
    “I’m not your fucking anything,” Jack snarled. “Let’s get that straight, at the outset. I’m not your rent boy, I’m your hired gun. Condition the first.”
    The demon’s eyes barely flickered. “Accepted.”
    “Condition the second,” Jack said. “I agree to fetch this arse-monkey for you, I get something for it. Something
I
choose.”
    The demon’s posture stiffened and it licked its lips. It liked Jack setting the pace far less than simply invading his head with