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I groaned. “You’re still trying to make me a nerd, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “I think there’s no hope of that. But it won’t stop me from trying.” He stood, and I followed suit. “So, tomorrow?”
I nodded. “It’s a plan.”
He smiled, gave me a close hug. I allowed myself to relax against him before we separated. For a brief instant I thought he was going to do something like kiss my forehead or cheek or something else that fell within the affection-between-friends boundary, but he merely smiled at me before turning and leaving.
I watched through the window as he drove off. We’d broken through a huge barrier in our relationship. He’d come to accept the presence of Rhyzkahl in my life. I could stop with the cycles of guilt and angst and all that.
Except that I felt as if it wasn’t real. Is this all part of the act? Am I just another facet of his cover?
Chapter 6
After Ryan left I made a glancing effort at cleaning the kitchen that extended to loading the dishwasher and nothing else. A nap followed shortly thereafter, and even though I’d only intended to sleep for a couple of hours, it was nearly ten p.m. when I woke.
There was a note on my bathroom mirror from Eilahn—written with a dry-erase marker in a flowing, elegant script—telling me that she was ru
I let out a small sigh of relief. This was the second time I’d summoned Rhyzkahl since she’d become my guardian, and I never knew whether she’d expect to be in the summoning chamber with me. But the last time I summoned she had errands as well, so apparently she was fine with making herself scarce. Not that I was worried about anything going wrong with the summoning itself because of her presence, but time with Rhyzkahl was…
Well, let’s just say I preferred privacy for those summonings.
I’d learned not to worry when I couldn’t find her in the house. Most of the time she was roaming on the rest of the ten acres that made up my property. The majority of it was woods, and I had a suspicion that wherever she called home in the demon realm was heavily wooded, because she moved through the trees and undergrowth with an unca
I headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Did Eilahn ever get homesick? As confident and assured as she seemed to be, surely there were chinks in that armor somewhere. For that matter, did she have family? A mate? I dumped the water into the top of the coffeemaker, troubled that this was only now occurring to me.
There’s too damn much that I don’t know about the demons and their world. I readied my mug with sugar and creamer as I pondered that. The demons were usually deliberately mysterious and evasive when it came to questions about their world—at least, that’s what I’d always been taught and had come to understand from the reading I’d done during my studies to become a summoner. In fact it was considered a waste of effort to ask those sort of questions, since the asker would likely end up paying for an answer that didn’t actually give any information.
Even though it had never particularly bothered me before, I found that it bugged the crap out of me now. Why wouldn’t the demons answer those type of questions? Or maybe the question should be, why are summoners discouraged from asking them?
I poured my coffee and sat. I had a demon at my disposal now. Maybe it was time to start finding some shit out.
After I finished waking up I showered and began my usual mental preparations for summoning. I was only summoning Rhyzkahl, but I didn’t want to get out of the habit of being in the proper frame of mind.
I laughed as I toweled my hair dry. I’m “only” summoning Rhyzkahl. He was supposedly one of the most powerful of the demonic lords in existence, and I was now an old hand at bringing him through. Of course, if he wasn’t willing to be summoned, it would be an entirely different matter. Such a summoning would require several summoners working together to be certain that the lord could be contained long enough for whatever was required so that they could avoid being slaughtered. Rather like the summoning of Szerain that had accidentally turned into a summoning of Rhyzkahl. Over thirty years ago six summoners had teamed up to summon the demonic lord Szerain, in an attempt to obtain healing for the breast-cancer-ravaged wife of one of the six, Peter Cerise.
My hands slowed then stopped, and I let the towel drop to the floor. Szerain was willing. That’s what Tessa had said. That’s why those six summoners had decided to summon him instead of some other lord. But if he was willing, why did they need six summoners? Why else would they all be there? This had been gnawing at me in the background for the last month and a half. And now I was seeing more ways that it just didn’t add up. Was Szerain willing, or simply more open to such things? But again…why six summoners?
Before heading downstairs I considered the various things I could possibly ask Rhyzkahl. I was limited to two questions per summoning. And I was obligated to summon him no less than once a month. But there’s nothing that says I can’t summon him more often than that.
I mused on that as I changed into the gray silk shirt and pants that I wore for summonings. There were only two problems with the simplistic math of summon-the-demonic-lord-more-often-and-get-more-questions-answered option. First was that summonings took power. The simplest and most common source of power was the natural potency that filled the world—strongest and easiest to draw during the full moon. I’d learned of a way to store that potency, which gave me more flexibility as to when I could summon, but even that had limitations.
The second problem was that once I summoned the demonic lord to this sphere, he was most certainly not under my control except for the terms of our agreement. One of the reasons my summonings of him were easier was because I didn’t bother attempting to maintain the sort of bindings and protections that could hold a being of his power. Our deal was that he would stay no longer than half a day and would abide by the same judicial laws of this sphere that applied to me.
That still gave him a shitload of wiggle room, and I didn’t want to push my luck any further than I had to.
Maybe that was why they used six summoners…to bind Szerain? But if they’d truly had sufficient protections in place, then how was it that Rhyzkahl had been able to break through the bindings and slaughter them? He’d caught them with their guard down, which seemed to indicate that there’d been no major protections—which would mean that their goal had not been to bind Szerain. So, what was it?
I had plenty of questions for the demonic lord. Most of the time he was the best—and often only—source of information, as long as I knew how to phrase the question. I always had the option to wade through the unorganized nightmare that was my aunt’s library, but right now I had a resource that was, if not at my beck and call, at least available to me—and I’d be a moron not to try and tap it as much as possible while I could.
And then there was the other reason to summon Rhyzkahl.
The sex.
Holy hells, but the sex was fantastic. My usual pattern was to angst over the fact that I had this “demon with benefits” relationship, but a tough talk from Jill not too long ago had managed to shift my thinking on that somewhat. I was a grown-up. I was allowed to enjoy sex. And I damn well intended to.
Pausing at the door to the basement, I took off my robe and folded it carefully by the door. One of my many quirks was my superstition about changing into my summoning garb: I always walked naked down the basement stairs and got dressed at the bottom. The few times I’d dared to mix it up something had gone wrong with the ritual. It was a damn chilly walk into the frigid basement tonight, but I wasn’t about to start making changes to my routine.