Page 114 of The Wolfing Hour

“No, I must not.”

“Betty, I beseech your understanding. My affection for you is genuine.”

“You are a liar, demon, and I don’t believe a single Lucifer-breathed word that falls from your lips.”

I turned my attention back to Gnath, who yanked his foot away from the circle and attempted to look innocent.

“Ronan and Ida wondered why I didn’t smite you after the Bloody Mary incident. The truth was I found you a useful fool and believed I could control you. That was a mistake. I should’ve ended this when you went after Violeta’s soul through that computer monitor. Maybe I was influenced not to, but I made the call. I own that.”

The little green monster glared at me, his soulless eyes calculating. I’d known people like him—paranormal and human. He believed he was the smartest, most powerful, most important person in any room he entered. There wasn’t a shred of decency in him.

“What did I tell you the last time we saw each other, Gnath?”

“That I owed you a favor,” he replied testily. “I don’t see why. I didn’t do anything except what your granddaddy over there forced me to do.”

“There was no force. He was given a choice.” Sexton tossed a bored look in the lesser demon’s direction. “This one chose to do as I asked. I offered him the key to a little-known portal into Hades as payment.”

“Not the part about the favor, you craven little worm,” I said, ignoring Sexton. “What did I say about how much killing you would bother me?”

Gnath cleared his throat, and the voice that came out of his mouth infuriated me.

“You need to understand how little your destruction would affect me, because if I catch you in my realm again, for any reason, I’m going to incinerate your soul. Blah, blah, blah.”He’d captured my tone and cadence, right down to my sarcastic drawl.

“Once you’re gone, I’ll go home and climb in bed with my boyfriend. Blah, blah, blah, I’ll barely remember what happened. In a month’s time, I won’t remember your name. In a year’s time, I won’t recall you at all. You’ll be dead and forgotten, and no one will mourn you. Blah. Blah. Blah.”

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” The stillness in my voice permeated the air, making the motel room feel like a mausoleum the day after a funeral.

The snide look drooled off Gnath’s face.

I dug my heels into the grungy carpet, grounding myself, and lifted my right hand, palm out. Magic spiraled into the center of me and flowed up and out through my palm, striking the salt-soil circle.

My demon, who’d been silent until now, spoke up, her apathy rising in me.I will do this.

“I’ll deal with him alone,” I said under my breath.

The apathy faded, but her voice grew insistent.Together.

Together,the earth witch chimed in.

Together.

“Bailar,” I shouted, throwing power behind the word. Mercury flames danced off the circle lines and closed in on the noxious demon.

He squeezed his arms tighter around his spindly knees. “Hey, stop it.”

“I bind you to these flames, Gnath, servant of iniquity, commander of the second brigade of malfeasance, demon of Highway 86, minion of Bertrand Sexton, creature of evil.”Three voices spoke, three powers combined. “I commit your living breath to the void.”

“No. Wait. Come on, now. Think about those favors I owe you. We could work together.” He tried to make himself smaller, but the flames kept dancing toward him. “Please. Don’t do this. I was only doing what the cemetery demon told me to. Everything I did was because I wasfollowing his orders,” he screamed the last three words as the silver flames closed in. The sound of him burning—and the smell—was atrocious.

Gnath screamed, long and low—and short. Mercury’s poison worked fast by necessity. Demons had a way of slipping out of impossible situations.

I kept my back to the wall, holding Sexton in my line of sight, and watched Gnath burn to ash. I hadn’t been numbed by my demon, yet I didn’t feel a thing except relief that he was gone. When even the ashes were roasted to nothing, I dismissed the flames and broke the salt circle.

“Please know that I gave him ample opportunity to refuse me, granddaughter. He made a choice.”

“Hand her over,” I said. “You owe me.”

“As you wish.” He closed his eyes, the translucent lids glowing as if the orbs inside were lit with red Christmas bulbs.