Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

other female demon in existence, possibly driven nuts because the elves killed her “sisters,” but more likely because Ku’Sox had tricked her into killing the ones they’d missed. Slim and gender neutral, she was sporting a bald head again. Heavy black eyeliner edging her eyes was the only feminine touch beyond the spare curves showing past her toga. Her entirely black eyes traveled over me, and a turbanlike hat misted into existence atop her head, sliding her from androgynous to feminine. The demon had trouble remembering what she was doing, but she was powerful, sort of the crazy Wendy of the lost lord-of-the-flies boys. She seemed to do better when I was around, which made everyone nervous.
    A good six feet away from her on the same bench, Dali reclined in apparent idleness. He was squinting at me in irritation, his decidedly round form half a civil servant, half a hanging judge. His toga didn’t do a thing for him.
    I glanced at the demons behind us, assembled either to watch or take part. I didn’t know which, and the distinction seemed important. Some of the faces were familiar, demons who’d asked me to make everything from backyard pools to cars to chandeliers for them. I stiffened as I spotted Ku’Sox weaving his way to the front, earning disdainful looks from those he passed.
    He has Ceri and Lucy, I thought, my hands becoming fists as I fought the urge to launch myself at him. I’d saved the tall, psychotic demon’s life in the effort to save my own, and I trusted him about as far as I could throw a mountain. The admittedly attractive demon was the engineered child of the demons around me, created with both science and magic in an attempt to circumvent the elf curse that kept them tied to the ever-after and basically sterile. Except now he was chained here even more than they were—since I’d cursed him to be fixed to the ever-after day or night.
    The more I got to know him and his kin, the more I wondered if most of the ugliness attributed to demonkind over the centuries could be lain at his feet. The wacko habitually ate people alive, believing that by doing so, he would absorb their souls; apparently he harbored doubts he had one. Even better, the demons had designed him with the ability to manipulate as much ley line energy as a female demon. That hadn’t turned out very well, seeing as that was probably why Ku’Sox had tricked Newt into killing everyone who might have a hope of controlling him.
    And now he was using Nick to drop into reality whenever he felt like it. It had to have been Ku’Sox who took Ceri and Lucy. He had enough reason. It was obvious, and I snarled at the demon working his way to the bottom of the arena.
    Al was trying to turn me back around, and I tugged out of his grasp. “I know what you’re doing, Ku’Sox!” I shouted as my face warmed, and several nearby demons elbowed each other to get their neighbors to shut up, hoping for some gossip.
    The slightly gaunt, youngish demon in gray smiled at me, his charisma falling flat. “I doubt that,” he said, his smooth, melodious voice not at all like Trent’s. “You’re not nearly scared enough,” he added, shoving several demons out of his way with his foot so he could take a front seat.
    “If you hurt one hair on Lucy’s head, I’ll throw you back into the ley lines from where I pulled your sorry ass !” I shouted, and Al tugged at me to be quiet. “You think I cursed you now, wait until I put your ugly face in a jar !”
    Al smacked my gut, and gagging, I turned back around. “Al,” I hissed as the arena began to quiet. “Ku’Sox is up to something.”
    “Ku’Sox is always up to something,” Al muttered.
    “He stole Ceri and Lucy!” Oh God. That murdering bastard had Lucy. Ceri could probably take care of herself, but if he hurt one chubby finger on the girl, I would tear both realities apart to make him pay.
    Al sniffed as if he didn’t care. “How? As you say, you cursed him to the ever-after, and even if he found a way past that, why would he?”
    “Because he can’t snag Trent, and if he has Ceri and Lucy, Ku’Sox has Trent’s nuts in a vise.”
    “So-o-o-o?” he drawled, gazing up to the sky that had never seen a contrail.
    “My God, Al, are you being intentionally blind? I told you Nick was stealing surviving Rosewood babies. Trent can make the cure permanent. If he gives it to Ku’Sox, he won’t need you anymore. Any of you!”
    Al’s expression suddenly became worried.