Mzatal gently released her hands, then brushed his fingers along her temple. Her expression cleared, and joy replaced the confusion as if Mzatal had dusted off those old memories.

“Oh . . . my lord.” She lifted her hands, opened and closed her fingers, eyes brimming with tears. “You have given me a great gift.”

“One richly deserved,” he replied.

“Rasha, you have my number by your phone,” I said. “Call me if anyone threatens or pressures you, and especially if anyone tries to hurt you.”

She nodded grateful assent.

“Now you must rest,” Mzatal said and sent her into sleep before she could either protest or thank him. With a tenderness that few, other than I, had ever witnessed, he lifted the aged summoner and settled her on the couch. His hand remained on her shoulder for several more heartbeats before he straightened and drew a light blanket over her.

“I have eased her memory of the ritual,” he told me quietly. “She is able to remember it, but only with focus and intent. It will no longer haunt her.”

“You’re such a softy,” I said with a low laugh, and planted a not-soft kiss on his mouth. He’d expended a good portion of his reserves with the healing, and I resolved to get him home to the mini-nexus as soon as possible.

Bryce and Paul and I finished cleaning up the kitchen and the broken porcelain, while Mzatal restored the wards in her house and beefed them up to demonic lord levels. At long last we departed, leaving Rasha sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

Eilahn emerged from a clump of brush on the other side of the street, smiled and readied the motorcycle. I kept my hand in Mzatal’s as we walked back to the SUV. “I’m proud of you.” I slid a glance his way.

He gave me a sidelong look in return. “My heaviness met your expectation?”

“Well, you did a fair bit of looming for the first part of the visit,” I pointed out.

His brows drew together. “I was simply heavy.” Before I could reply, he moved swiftly behind me, aura shifting to black menace as he pressed close against my back. I felt his breath on my neck as he spoke with dark and sinister horror. “This is looming.”

I sucked in a gasping breath and had to bite back a cry of terror. Ahead of me, Bryce staggered and clutched at the SUV, face paling. Clenching my teeth, I drove an elbow back into Mzatal’s gut.

He grunted at the blow, then let out an actual laugh, horrific aura dissipating to his normal “heavy” mojo in an instant. Bryce and Paul turned to stare at the lord, both apparently finding the laughter almost more disturbing then the menace.

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. It felt good. “Holy shit, she’d have keeled over dead if you’d done that to her.” Throwing my arms around his neck, I planted a kiss on him, and didn’t mind at all when he wrapped his arms around me and returned it with a fervor that was possibly illegal on the streets of Austin, Texas.

Reluctantly, and only because Bryce and Paul were doing their best to look anywhere but at us, I broke the kiss. “Let’s get back home,” I said. “And if we run into Asher or Jerry or Katashi or Farouche, you can loooooom all you want.”

Chapter 34

I waited until we were at least an hour out of Austin and then took an exit onto a small dark highway with a closed diner and one lone gas station. Four pumps. Grimy windows. Probably had the bathroom key attached to a hub cap. Only one car, which was likely the clerk’s since it was parked near the back of the building. It was the kind of station that no female traveling alone—especially in the middle of the night—would ever patronize except in a dire emergency.

It was perfect.

“Paul, any cameras?” I glanced in the rear view mirror as I drove past the station and saw him already typing away on his laptop.

“Hang on.” He muttered to himself for another few seconds, then looked up in triumph. “Got it. It’s an old system, so best I can do is shut it off. Should work okay.”

“You’re a god, Paul.”

He blushed and grinned. I turned around then pulled in at the front pump and shut off the engine. “I’ll go get snacks and stuff,” he announced, undoing his seat belt.

Bryce snorted. “You just want to see if they have Krunch ‘n Krackle.”

Paul laughed. “I’m addicted.” To my surprise he then looked at Mzatal. “Lord Mzatal, you wanna come with me?”

My surprise increased when a smile touched the lord’s face. “I do, Paul.”

Bemused, I watched as the pair exited the SUV and headed toward the station, Paul chattering companionably about how awesome Krunch ‘n Krackle was, and Mzatal apparently listening closely and murmuring responses. He likes Paul, I thought, pleased and weirdly relieved. Mzatal’s incredible capacity for affection and love had gone untapped and unused for far too long. Millennia. He needed friends.

I could relate, though on a much smaller scale. It was only in the past year that I’d developed an honest-to-god circle of friends. My posse. Even when things were at their shittiest, knowing these people had me in their thoughts made all the difference in the world.

I climbed out as Eilahn stopped at the pump behind us. She parked the bike, swung her leg over and shook her hair out of her helmet, then stood and preened a bit. I couldn’t blame her. If I looked that damn good on a motorcycle I’d likely do the same thing. She still rode Tessa’s bike, which I realized now probably wasn’t cut out for long highway road trips. Eilahn needed something more powerful—something fast. A sleek crotch-rocket or a model equally dangerous to mere humans. I smiled at the thought. Maybe when the FBI paid me.

Bryce came around the back of the SUV, eyes going to Eilahn for long enough to prove he was a healthy heterosexual male, but not so long as to be pervy. “I’ll pump,” he told me with an easy smile.

“I’ll watch and pay,” I replied and swiped my card on the pump, maintaining faith in Paul’s assertion that it couldn’t be tracked. My gaze went to the sight of Mzatal and Paul within the store. What would the super powerful demonic lord make of a back-country gas station? Did it have a big jar of pickled pigs feet on the counter? Or a container of boiled eggs suspended in an odd red liquid? In my entire lifetime of living in the South, I’d never been brave enough to try either staple of southern culture. I’d stick to M&Ms, thank you very much.

My musings came to a sharp halt as a vehicle pulled off the highway, and my gut did a nasty lurch at the sight of the light bar on top of the Crown Victoria.

“Shit,” Bryce murmured from beside me.

I kept the pleasant smile on my face as the cop pulled up and parked along the side of the station. Sheriff’s deputy. A sergeant, I noted as he exited his vehicle. Late thirties, tan shirt over brown trousers. Service weapon and a deceptively casual air. No gut. Fit and trim.

He gave me a polite nod and smile, then did a once-over assessment of Bryce, the SUV, and Eilahn, in a way that let me know he was more than some local yokel. This was a cop with a good eye who took his job seriously and probably had some damn good instincts. I loved his type, but damn, it was inconvenient for him to show up right now. Hell, he probably pulled in because there’s a carload of people and a motorcycle here in the middle of the night, I decided. That’s what a good cop would do, especially at a place right off the highway in the middle of nowhere with only one clerk working.

The deputy finished his assessment, gave us all another nod-smile then turned and headed toward the front door of the station.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Bryce, hang tight. I’m going to check on our two.”

His jaw tightened. “Damn it. I shouldn’t have let Paul out of my sight.”

“I’ll get them,” I said. “It’s all good.” I headed toward the door, trying to hurry without actually looking as if I was hurrying. Easy, right? Mzatal and Paul were still visible through the window. Paul was describing something, using animated gestures to emphasize his point. Mzatal actually smiled at whatever he said, and it wasn’t a polite, indulgent smile either. Mzatal didn’t do those.