Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [16]
‘‘Fish pond!’’ Cyrene squealed, disturbing my thoughts as she hurried off to commune in the ways of the naiads, something that overtook her whenever she was near bodies of freshwater. I sighed for a moment at the fact that I’d never be able to live in such a beautiful spot as this, but cut short the pity party when my watch made an almost imperceptible peep.
‘‘No time for dallying, May,’’ I told myself as I flicked on a penlight and examined the brick fence that divided the property from that of Dr. Kostich. Midway down the fence, a small wooden gate was set into an archway, clearly put there so the neighbors could visit with ease.
‘‘No wards. Hmm. Interesting.’’ Dr. Kostich may have been concerned enough about his neighbors to see to the warding of the house, but he obviously didn’t fear intrusion via the gate. There was a small padlock on this side, but it didn’t require much finessing at all to open it. I let the padlock drop to the ground as I shook my head at the door. ‘‘Just a few arcane protection spells . . . ineffectual at best.’’
‘‘Totally lame,’’ a male voice agreed behind me.
I shadowed immediately, spinning around to see who had managed to creep up on me unawares.
A large furry black dog gazed at me with its mouth slightly opened, its tail wagging gently in the balmy evening breeze.
I looked around quickly for the dog’s owner, but my eyes slowly returned to it as I realized the truth.
‘‘Yup, that’s right, you’re not seeing things. I’m a demon. Sixth class, if that helps. Whatcha doing?’’ The demon dog took a step closer to me, snuffled my legs, then tipped its head to the side. ‘‘Wow. Doppelganger. I’ve only seen one other of you guys. I didn’t realize there were two of you in Europe.’’
‘‘There are three of us, actually. One is in France, and one is in Rome,’’ I answered, my gaze trying to pierce the shadows cast by the trees. I didn’t see anyone else out there, but if there was a demon here . . . ‘‘Who are you, demon?’’
‘‘Now, you know, I could refuse to answer that, since you didn’t summon me and all, but Ash gets annoyed when I display what she calls bad manners, so I’m going to play nice. Name’s Jim. Effrijim, really, but no one calls me that except Aisling when she’s really pissy. What’s your name?’’
‘‘That’s not pertinent,’’ I said firmly, thinking as fast as I could. If there was a demon here, someone must have sent it . . . but for what purpose? And who had set the demon to watch the gate? Dr. Kostich? That didn’t make any sense—mages could technically summon demons, but I’d never heard of one doing so, not while they had arcane abilities at their fingertips to achieve whatever they wanted. ‘‘Who sent you, Effrijim?’’
‘‘No one sent me. I’m just doing my walkies,’’ the demon answered, sniffing my legs again. I stepped back, pulling the shadows tighter around me. I knew it would do little good—experienced demons could sometimes sense even those who shadow walked—but it made me feel less open to prying eyes.
‘‘Your . . . walkies?’’
‘‘Yeah, you know, walkies. Constitutional. Pinchin’ a loaf,’’ it said with a particularly annoying chuckle.
I opened my mouth to point out . . . well, I didn’t know what to point out, so many thoughts were tumbling through my mind. Instead I shook my head at my own folly, and with a firm look, asked the demon who its master was.
‘‘Aisling. She’s inside, if you want to have a chat with her, although she’s a bit cranky because Drake made her come home early from the