Aisling rubbed her palms against her pants and approached the available machine. In the days before The Last War there’d been satellites and land networks allowing for instant communication using computers. Children no longer used books in school, and rarely used pencil and paper, just as the majority of people paid for everything through accounts accessed by magnetic cards like the one she’d used on the bus, instead of using cash.

Relying on technology to such an extent was a foreign notion, intimidating. Yet the possibility of having so much knowledge readily available was exhilarating.

The young librarian who’d been stationed behind the counter stopped next to them. “Do you need some help? Please say you do. I’ve got hours left on my shift and am going a little crazy just sitting around reading magazines.”

“I’ve never used a computer before,” Aisling admitted.

“It’s easy. You’ll be a pro in minutes. Take a seat. I’m Cassandra, by the way.”

“I’m Aisling.”

She sat and felt even more intimidated in such close proximity to the screen and keyboard.

“Don’t panic!” Cassandra said with a laugh. “Don’t freeze up. Believe me, this is simple. Child’s play. They say before The Last War toddlers used to learn their alphabet and numbers by playing computer games. Believe me, you’ll wonder why you haven’t been a regular library visitor. This is your first time here, right?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. It won’t be your last. You probably noticed how often there’s a waiting line for the computers. Hopefully we’ll be getting more of them soon.”

Cassandra leaned over and touched the sole icon on the screen. “Okay. Here’s the big picture. We’re on a limited local area network. What that means is enough cable has been salvaged so computers like these, and the ones owned privately, are connected to huge computers where information is stored. What’s stored in the mega computers is stuff like news, books that have been input, you name it. Content depends on who owns the huge computers, so take what you read with a grain of salt. Are you new to town, or just to the library?”

“I’ve only been here a few days,” Aisling said.

“Do you like it?”

Aisling’s earlier thoughts returned, along with the unsettling realization that she could no longer see herself content with the life she’d lived in the San Joaquin. True, there was violence and prejudice here, the powerful preying on the weak, but there was also freedom and the opportunity to openly use her gift to help others.

“Life here is different from anything I’ve ever know. But yes, I think I could come to like it very much.”

“Where are you staying?”

Aisling hesitated only a second. “In the area reserved for those with special talents.”

“Cool! Let me guess…” Cassandra tilted her head. “Witch, warlock and ferret familiar?”

Aisling laughed, though a blush rose in her face. “Shamaness. Friend. And pet.”

“Even cooler.” Cassandra turned to the computer in front of them. “Okay, back to work. The easiest way to find what you’re looking for is to type in a word or a couple of words and do a search. Now, hand on the mouse, and I’ll walk you through it.”

Aisling put her hand on the “mouse” and was absolutely amazed at the world that opened up by her doing so. True to Cassandra’s words, within minutes she wondered why she’d ever felt overwhelmed by such simple technology.

“I think you’re good to go now,” Cassandra said, stepping back and beaming with satisfaction. “I’ll leave you to it. Shout out if you hit a snag.”

“I will,” Aisling said, waiting just long enough for Cassandra to move away before typing in Fellowship of the Sign.

Only a few references, links Cassandra had called them, came up. When Aisling followed them, they didn’t provide any more information than what she’d already learned from Davida at The Mission.

She typed in Ghost and was immediately overwhelmed with possibilities, all of them connected to sightings of spirits or old-fashioned horror stories. And even after she’d added and subtracted words as Cassandra had demonstrated, there were no references to the substance called Ghost.

Aisling closed the browser and stood. Despite not finding anything about Ghost or the Fellowship of the Sign, she felt exhilarated, empowered in a way she couldn’t completely put into words.

Zurael’s chuckle and the warmth she saw his eyes only increased her sense of accomplishment. “I’m impressed,” he said, and the liquid heat in his voice found its way to her breasts and cunt.

She glanced away quickly. “Ready to eat?”

“Yes.”

They went across the street, to a food stall serving soup and salad. Aisling’s euphoria over mastering the computer lasted until she saw Cassandra leave the library and enter the building next to it. Fear and worry edged in, with the memory of Raisa saying the library was next door to the building housing the police and guardsmen.

A deep sadness invaded Aisling’s soul at being presented with evidence of how dangerous it was to trust, at having been so foolish as to set aside a lifetime of caution. She’d been as easy to question as a child, had casually revealed enough information to lead the authorities to her, and had never wondered whether the computer would save the contents of her search after she’d closed the browser.

“Your world is far more treacherous than mine,” Zurael said, pulling her back against his front, surrounding her with his heat, his strength. He gave her the security she craved but made her consider again the ease with which her humanity was leaching away-as time and time again she found what she needed in a demon’s arms.

CHAPTER 11

AISLING studied the witches’ home from the safety of the cracked and broken sidewalk. Elaborate sigils were carved into the door and the window frames as well as the posts marking the front corners of the yard.

A short wrought-iron fence stood guard against the fey in a not so subtle warning. And though Aisling wasn’t magic sensitive, as some of the gifted were, she could feel the ley line humming through the souls of her feet, rising from the depths like a great whale close to breaching the surface of the ocean.

Tamara might have claimed her family didn’t practice black magic, but Aisling knew the Wainwrights were more than witches whose craft was tied to the elements and their goddess. At least some of them would be sorceresses, able to pull on the rich power pulsing through the ley line their house sat on.

Instinctively her fingers curled around the fetish pouch beneath her shirt. She glanced at Zurael and thought about returning from her trip into the spiritlands to find Tamara’s face tight with fear and her arms wrapped protectively around her swollen belly. At the time she’d attributed Tamara’s reaction to Zurael’s unexpected arrival and the menace radiating from him; now she wondered if Tamara had guessed what he was.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to come with me,” Aisling said. “I haven’t got an affinity for spell magic, but I can feel a ley line close to the surface here. It’s strong enough to power any number of entrapment or revelation spells.”

Aziel nuzzled the side of her face in approval, then surprised her by jumping from her shoulder to Zurael’s, the unusual behavior making her wonder again about Aziel’s true purpose in giving her Zurael’s name.

“I can feel the line as well,” Zurael said, accepting the ferret’s presence without comment. “You won’t linger?”

“As soon as I tell them about the child at The Mission and either get their promise to retrieve Anya or the name of someone else to talk to about her, I’ll leave.”

“Your pet and I will wait out here then.”

Aisling pushed through the wrought-iron gate and walked to the front door. The decision to come here for help was an easy one to make. The only other gifted person she’d met since moving into the shaman’s house was Raisa. And given Father Ursu’s arrival minutes after Raisa’s departure and then the attacker who’d been waiting later, Aisling wasn’t prepared to trust the tearoom owner.