We're back to the lengthier ones. I like this chapter, but to be honest, I like them all. This is where I started using bits to send out for scholarships. None of them liked it enough, sadly. But I like it. I'm shallow like that. :D

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I must have dozed off there, because it was five when I woke up. My face felt flattened and my limbs drained. I stood up wobbly and made my way upstairs to my bed. I didn’t sleep, though. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the hit men. I saw the elves dying, the bullet firing from my gun. But I was too weak to sob any more. So I sat on the edge of the bed and watched the day break slowly through my bathroom’s window.

After the sun was over the edge of the horizon, I heaved myself upwards. I went down to my office and cleaned every weapon there. It took me all morning, but by the time I was done, I felt better. I had spent all morning reminding myself of all the good I’d done for my people and I’d finally come to a sort of peace. I left the “Closed” sign in the door and went to my basement. I blared something—it wasn’t Villain, but I don’t remember what it was—as I did a mild work out with the bag. When the phone rang at eleven, I ignored it. Eventually, they hung up. A few moments later, it rang again.

With a sigh, I checked the ID. “Coil, what is it?”

“First, what the fuck is so damn important that you don’t answer you phone?”

“Laundry,” I lied. “But that isn’t why you called.”

“I figured you’d want updated on the situation, especially with the guys last night. Besides, we can use your input if you don’t mind giving it.” I grunted assent and he continued, “We’ve not been able to identify the guys, but we do know that they were all elves of the same clan.”

“Death’s Touch,” I supplied. “I asked one before I shot him.”

He cleared his throat. “You mean he told you before trying to fire on you. You, of course, fired on him only in retaliation.” I grunted again. “Anyway. We’ll contact the clan and try to get some information out of them.”

“Don’t bother,” I warned. “The Touch’s policy is, you fuck with them; they fuck you up.”

“That’s not your clan is it?” He tried to sound mocking, but it made my stomach turn. He didn’t understand the insult in what he’d asked, I’m sure.

“I’m Winged Bough,” I said after a moment. “It’s not important, though. What is, is that you’ll never get them to give up the mission or the employer. May as well be pissing upwind.”

“You’re right, probably,” he agreed. “Anyway. We did a check on that witch who was there. Merula Lauren has an exemplary guild record. She’s got a couple of grey patches, but otherwise she’s golden.”

“Grey patches? Do explain.”

He shuffled some papers around then said, “First, she’s known to be a mercenary type of witch. She works on her own, like you, and takes pretty much anything she wants. She graduated top of her class in combat magic, but I don’t see that she uses it all that much from her reports. More of the small stuff, you know the type.”

“Yeah, I know. Bigger than keys and smaller than bodies,” I replied, quoting what my teacher had always said about finding spells.

“More or less,” he agreed. “Other than that, the only iffy mark here is where it says that she failed when she tried to bind a familiar. On the whole, she’s just a mercenary witch of some strength.”

“Interesting,” I said, even though it wasn’t quite. I didn’t know jack about the process of familiars and wasn’t sure why it would be there that she’d screwed it up. But I did know her type—it wasn’t that far a cry from me. Except that she craved danger she was constantly missing out on, our business practices were pretty similar.

“That’s all we got on her. We’ll do what we can to figure out who put out the hit.”

I sighed into the phone. “You’ll do better searching for water in the Sahara. They ended up with a reverse-blackout.”

“What? What the hell do you mean?”

“Sorry. I keep forgetting that you never learn these things. You know what a black out is?”

He scoffed into the phone. “Come on, Lucifel. I run the OWLE squad. I’ve seen Elfin clan hits before. They wanted to kill you and anyone trying to assist you.”

“Or close enough to get caught in the spray,” I agreed. “A reverse blackout is sort of the opposite. Instead of killing me and mine off, I killed all of them. It sends a message to the clan that I’m better than their team. So if whoever this is pays enough, they’ll send a stronger one. But usually, they’ll take that as a ‘cease and desist’ of a kind. They’ll leave me alone in respect for my greater strength.”

“And if they know you had help?”

I shrugged, forgetting he couldn’t see it. “They’ll assume I’d have help again. They know the hospital records by now, I guarantee it. They know I got stitches and a lecture, not a limb amputation or anything crazy. They’ll back off.” I paused, then had to add, “For now, at least.”

He grunted into the phone. “Watch your ass then. Keep that witch handy. For now, at least, you’re safe? So don’t get your ass deeper in the hot water.”

“I read you,” I replied softly, hanging up the phone. It no more hit the cradle than it rang again. Life is sometimes very odd like that.

“Lucifel?” Merula’s voice came down the line. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “What’s up?”

“I figured I’d…come over?” Her voice turned sheepish. “If I’m supposed to be your backup, it helps if I’m there, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not going to be doing much,” I said. “Mostly, I planed on staffing my shop, doing my reports, that sort of thing. I’ll probably visit Alayna later today.”

“But they can attack you there, can’t they? At home, I mean.”

“I suppose. I’m not one to brag, Merula, but if they did, I’d kill them easy. Trust me, I can’t be taken in my own freaking house.” I tried not to laugh. “If you have absolutely nothing to do, you can come do a search for threats or something. Otherwise, there’s nothing.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t want a bodyguard who was a hundred pounds heavier, a half-foot shorter and about ten toughness-levels weaker.

“I’ll do that, then,” she said. “Won’t hurt to brush up on the skills. And besides, a good threat-spell can find anything as simple as cracks in your foundation or poisonous spiders in the attic.”

“Fine,” I said. “You know where it is. Knock on my office door and I’ll let you in.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she said before she hung up the phone.

I wove to my office and stretched out, ignoring my exhaustion. After a few minutes, I remembered that I hadn’t told Erin anything about my misadventure last night. For that matter, I hadn’t talked to her since the night she had a possible tryst with Strass. So I picked up the phone and dialed her.

After several rings, a groggy voice answered, “H’lo?”

I nearly laughed. “Hey. Erin there or is she asleep?”

“She’s here, Lucifel,” he said sheepishly. “But she’s still asleep.”

“I guess that takes away one question I was going to ask, Strass. Erin is just too irresistible.” I laughed, pleased just to be able to be happy for a friend.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding utterly embarrassed. “I figured you’d approve.”

There was a rustling and a familiar voice said, “Strass? What is it?”

He covered the receiver, but I still heard, “It’s Lucifel. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Lucifel!” Erin all but shouted into the receiver. Then, to Strass, she said, “Would you mind making coffee or something?”

“So? Was it everything you dreamed of?” I asked.

“Yes and no. He’s so utterly sweet and perfect, but in the sack,” she giggled. “He’s like a human. No different.”

“You know, I believe he’s half human,” I commented.

“Quarter, yeah. His grandmother or something. I forget. That’s the odd thing—we did almost as much talking as…” she giggled again. “We probably talked even more. I’ve never known that to happen.”

“You’re falling in love!” I laughed in earnest. “Erin and Strass, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Oh shut up,” she laughed with me. “He’s sweet. Maybe he’s got a brother for you!”

“Doubt it,” I said. “I don’t think I’d want to lose my mind just to fall in love.”

“So what’s up? Where’ve you been the past few nights? You’ve been pretty sketchy lately.” I remembered glumly the shit I’d been through and sighed. I owed her an update.
I gave her the ultra-edited version. “I’m fine,” I added when she started to babble at my injuries. “But just tired. Do you…” I cleared my throat. “Would you mind if I talked with Strass for awhile?”

“It’s not about anything I should know about, is it?” She sounded more concerned the jealous, so I told her the truth.

“Not really. I…I just want to talk with another elf about this. And Alayna…she’s just a kid.”

“Hang on a sec,” she said, calling him over to the phone.

“Lucifel, I trust you’ve finished talking about me?” His jocular tone made me pause. Did I really want to share this darkness festering inside me with a guy who’s main concern was finding a word that rhymed with “babe”?

“Lucifel? Are you alright?” His jocular tone was replaced by genuine concern, and it hurt.

“No. I…I’m sorry, Strass. I shouldn’t…put this on you.” My voice caught painfully, and I fought not to sob like a child. I’d done enough of that. But I hurt, in my bones and my head and my soul. I hadn’t ever known I could hurt there so badly.

“Erica, you wanna give us a minute? Thanks sweetie.” He turned back to the phone and said, “No, Lucifel,” he said in Elfish. It nearly broke my heart to hear it. “I can hear it.” For a moment I was confused, but he continued, “I can hear how scared you are. I can hear that something very, very bad happened. Will you tell me?”

I did sob then. “I killed them.” He didn’t say anything, but waited patiently for me to explain. In that moment, I think I was almost envious of Erin. “Someone hired Death’s Touch to kill me. Blackout.”

He gasped at that, and said softly, “I’m so sorry.”

“I killed them. I shot one between the eyes and sniped another…” I stopped, sobbing heavily. He waited patiently for me to continue. “Someone…a couple of people in the woods helped. A witch saved my life. But they killed them. They killed them all.”

“A reverse blackout,” he commented softly. “If it was completely different circumstances, I’d be impressed.”

“I killed them,” I repeated brokenly.

“I’m sorry,” Strass said. “But you had no choice. They were willing to take a hit out on one of their own kind. The price must have been incredible. But they were willing to take down another elf. They were already darkened.”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t. But it doesn’t make it wrong either. They were the ones that forced your hand. Any way it happened, elves would have died. They forced your hand. Think of it like this: if you had allowed them to kill you, then you would have died. They would have moved on and killed even more elves eventually. However, you fought back. You saved your life. You will go on to save more lives and more of our people. Yes, you have done something horrible. Something almost unforgivable—almost. But ultimately, when the finally tally is made, you have saved many more of our people. You have every right to feel horrible and rotten and like a murderer. But if you do that, you won’t be able to go out and save those others. If you forgive yourself, and allow yourself to be cleansed, then you can go out and you can save our species. So. You killed them. It is a tragedy. But it was a necessity. You should feel terrible. But you can’t do so forever.” I felt almost better at that, and I heard him give a soft chuckle. “Besides, it makes it damnable hard to be your friend.”

I laughed at that, “Not sure you’d want to. My friends get shot at pretty frequently.”

“Hot damn! About time I got some excitement in my life!” I laughed and he did too. “Would you like me to start the rite?”

“Yes,” I said with a smile, although I felt like I’d already been forgiven and cleansed. It’s amazing what a laugh with a friend can do. “Go ahead.”

“Stars that shine upon us,” he intoned, “Bless us. Forgive us. Shine upon us gently.”

“I have extinguished the lights of my brethren,” I confessed. “I have extinguished them forever.”

“They shine upon us. They bless us. They rain forgiveness down upon us. We cannot deserve your blessings.”

“Forgive me,” I choked out.

“The love you have for us shines equally on all. Let us be worthy of your grace. Let us be worthy of your love. Let us be worthy of your forgiveness.”

“I am sorry,” I said tightly.

“They shine down. They know. They forgive. They love.”

Tears eased down my cheeks. “Thank you, Strass.” I laughed bitterly, “Who would’ve thought I’d have to ask a grunge-rock singer to play priest to forgive me!”

He laughed too, “Hey, it’s been awhile, but I don’t think you could ever forget the rites. You feeling better?”
“Yeah, Strass. I gotta say, I’m almost jealous of Erin.” I laughed. “Then again, you’re a grunge-rock singer.”

He laughed, “Only according to the charts. I prefer to consider myself alternative.”

“Sure you do,” I mocked him. “That’s what all the artists say.”

“You wanna talk to Erin now?” he laughed.

“If she wants. I’ve got work I need to do sooner or later, but I’ve always got…erm…to make time for my friends.” He laughed with me. We were ridiculous, but it’s a survival technique. He’d played priest, meaning he had to carry around the knowledge of my sins. But he’d chosen it.

“Gimme a second, I’ll get her.” There was more rustling and a low chuckle that I guessed came from Strass.

“Lucifel?” Erin giggled into the phone. She pulled it away and I heard flesh smack flesh—playful and gentle. She’d hit him for something. “Sorry. Strass is being a total ass.”

I grinned at that. “He’s got a penis?”

She gave a gasping laugh, and managed to pour outrage into the word, “What?”

“Does-he-have-a-penis? That explains why he’s an ass.”

“Christ, Lucifel!” She giggled more, and I was well aware where it would be leading if I wasn’t on the phone. I felt guilty that it was the perfect excuse to cut the conversation short—how do you tell your friend that you don’t have anything to say to them? That their newest one-night-stand, whom you’ve never met, had better, more comforting words?

“I’d better go,” I forced a laugh with some credibility. “I mean, don’t you usually have to call a nine-hundred number to hear that on the phone?”

“It’s called phone sex, darling, where have you been?” It popped out of her mouth before she thought, I’m sure. I could almost hear her turning red. Strass was laughing in the background. “Oh ye gods…my stupid freaking mouth…”
“I’ll talk to you later, ok? I’ve got a client coming in.” I wasn’t lying, at least. How did I manage to forget about it until Merula was walking up the front walk?

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll call you around dark if you don’t call me first.”

“Ten four,” I replied smartly as if I’d been chatting with Coil instead. “Bye.” She said something in return, but I hung up before it could reach me. Merula was paces from the door and my face was still marred with dried tears. I kept a box of tissues on my desk, thankfully, and the trashcan near the corner.

I cleaned my face up and managed to look professional before she came in, knocking smartly on the door as she poked her head into the interior. “Ms. Lucifel?” She wore a walking suit. No shit; I hadn’t seen one in decades. Hers was more or less tasteful—the pinstripes themselves didn’t do much to help her figure, but the alternating pink and deep teal made her eyes and hair sparkle. The skirt hit her at her knees, but the nylons below led to sensible pumps with almost no heel. I had to give her points for the shoes, if nothing else. I wondered if they came in my size.

“Merula,” I greeted her. “You can feel free to come in, you know. I didn’t revoke the invitation I gave you last night.”
She sighed thankfully and stepped over the threshold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be crass or insinuate that you did. But it has happened and you had plenty of reason.”

“No worries,” I replied, shuffling some papers. “Have a seat.”

She smiled as she did so. I hadn’t noticed the duffle bag when she’d brought it in, but I could almost feel the paraphernalia in it. “You are crazy lucky,” she confided with a wink. “You don’t want to know what I usually charge for a full house sweep.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at her, “Could it be more than what I charge to track a feral were?”

She froze a little at that. “I doubt it,” she finally said. “You get hazard pay if the thing jumps out of the bushes too quick.”

I smiled at her, a business smile, and nodded. “Course, a full sweep of a house is probably incredibly boring.”

She shrugged, “Yeah, it can be. I bet yours isn’t though. Where would you like me to start?”

I thought about it. “What do you do? Pace the house or sit in a corner and look it over psychically?”

“I can do it mentally, but then I miss a whole lot of threats. I’ll need to borrow your bathroom or kitchen or something and I’ll whip up the spell. I’ll invoke it and attach it to something—I’ve got some eyeglasses that work really well, so it won’t disturb you if you’re working. Then I’ll just walk the house, like you said, and look for anything with both the physical and metaphysical senses.”

“Can you do it without tagging it to the eyeglasses?” She nodded. “Good. I’d rather walk with you and see it. If there’s something up, I’d like to be there to take care of it right away.”

Her face fell—had she thought I’d let her run through my home unchecked or was she insulted because I’d insinuated that she couldn’t handle it or that she would steal something? Ye Stars, if the greatest of my woes was a witch pilfering from my wallet, I’d have to be dead. “I just don’t want to leave you dealing with a potentially hazardous situation, and I’d like to see this done. I don’t work with witches often.”

She nodded, her face blushing slightly. “Yeah, it’s fine. So where would you like me to set up?”

“The lab would be fine.” At her confused expression, I stood up. “I’ll show you.” She followed me obediently, and I managed to catch the look on her face when she saw the lab. It all but glowed literally. She smiled widely and her hand clutched her bag reflexively.

“I like it,” she said with a laugh. “I hadn’t thought the rough-and-tough Lucifel would have converted her kitchen into a laboratory. I’d have though…shooting range?”

I grinned at her. “I run lots of tests, or rather require them. The cops and OWLE squads don’t have the money or supplies to keep a full time lab like this running. So, I made my own. I like having this floor as my office and the others as my home.”

“This makes me feel better about the mess I’ll end up leaving. Magical residue will make food taste crappy, but it won’t do anything for casts of werewolf feet or vampire saliva tests, as far as I know.”

Without further prompting, she set her bag on one of the tables. She unpacked ointments and herbs and a dozen other things that were unimportant to me. I’d told her I didn’t work with witches, but I know about the craft. A witch can’t draw a whole lot of power. Their personal reserves are usually last-resort. Most witches draw some from their surroundings. That’s where the elemental alignment comes from. As far as I know, some witches get an easier time drawing energy in the middle of the ocean and others have an advantage on mountaintops. But drawing too much energy can be hazardous—I’ve never understood why, but I know it is. That’s why I try to trap witches if I can. If they wear out, then it’s easy pickings. Witches, like necromages, ride the power from the death of a sacrifice, either animal or plant. If they sacrifice a human, I’ll be called out with a warrant of execution, although it’s only happened a few times. Usually it’s small deaths, even smaller than those I use. They can use even spiritual death that usually comes from abuse. Unfortunately, there’s another way that witches siphon almost all their power. It was why I was curious how Merula was going to do this for an extended period of time.
A witch’s familiar acts a lot like a proxy for a necromage. They can draw energy through the familiar. Unlike a proxy, the link is permanent. After they’ve been drained, the familiar will regain health over time from the witch. Apparently, if witches duel, the other witch’s familiar is a hot target. Not only do you kill off their source of energy but you quadruple your own. Riding the energy of a normal death is one thing—riding the energy of a familiar will give a witch, or theoretically a necromage, enough to kill even a far better master.

But Merula didn’t have a familiar. She’d failed to link to one and bind them. But why hadn’t she tried again? I knew enough to know it was probably a sore subject, so I didn’t ask. But I did wonder if she was going to run out to her car and kill a goat or something for this spell. But she didn’t. She mixed ointments, mumbled magical words and sketched forms while she mixed and mixed. I was yawning halfway through and almost tempted to return to my office by the time she was done.

“Finished,” she said finally. She looked a little work, but her smile was radiant. “Did you still want to watch? Unless I find something, it’ll be boring.”

“Yeah. The reports can wait. If the OWLE guys bitch, I’ll tell them I was doing…research.” I smiled at her and she smiled back. “Do you want to start here?”

“A good a place as any. I’ll do a psychic check first. Anything glaring with stand out with that.” I nodded as she closed her eyes. I felt her sweeping through my house. Her head kept on shaking as she checked it top to bottom. When she opened her eyes, she said, “It looks clean. But anything so glaring would be evident to you, probably. Let’s start with this room.”

She said a word and invoked the spell. Some of her equipment glowed faintly in a sickening green color. “Is this because it’s a potential threat or because you keyed it to glow?”

“Both,” she replied, eyes darting through the room. I could feel her expending power rapidly and reaching quickly to replenish it. That was probably why she wanted to be alone. She wanted to take her time and not have someone watch her falter. “It’s potentially dangerous—that’s why it’s green. If it turns a blue-green, then it’s hazardous. Red means it’s deadly. That’s it for here. The office?”

I nodded and led her there. The guns all glowed a very faint green. “Because they’re a hazard, right?” She nodded, her face showing her concentration. The guns with the safety off were an even brighter green. “No red or anything else. Moving on?” The living room was the same way. A wobbling leg of the coffee table was very faint. The stairs revealed one that was weaker than the others and a loose screw on the banister. By then, Merula’s face was staring to look seriously strained.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“It’s a lot of energy to put it visible to all and to do such an extensive search. I’ll be alright.” I nodded and we went through the upstairs. I apparently had an old jar of mustard hiding in the back of my fridge and a few spiders about the rooms. I pledged to dust, but knew I’d never get around to it. My entire bedroom gave off a faint glow.

Merula glowered at me. “Not having the sun in your bedroom is dangerous. It gives dark walkers an advantage here. You should consider a window. It’s a fire hazard too—only one exit?”

“The bathroom has a window,” I pointed out. “And I’m a dark walker usually. Up until five raising the dead doesn’t give you much option about when to sleep.” She nodded uncomfortably but accepted my argument. The bathroom had a touch of mold. The other personal rooms were innocent of any serious threats. She released the spell as we walked down the stairs.

“You alright?” I asked before I could stop myself.

She smiled tightly. “Yeah. I don’t want to have to hold that sieve of a spell in territory that’s been swept.” I nodded at her, and we descended the stairs to the basement.
She called the spell up and we walked through. More spiders and insects littered the basement. A spot at the top of my stairs made both of us stop for a moment, though. It was a faint pink. “What does that mean?”

Her brows furrowed and she said, “Something here recently was very, very, crazy dangerous. Let me investigate.” She touched it and murmured another spell. Her face went very white and then very red. She turned on me and asked, “What was here?”

“Nothing,” I said. But as I looked at it, I knew I was lying. It was where Caninus had lounged at the top of my stairs. “Shit. It’s someone who was there.”

“They are very potentially dangerous,” she said to me. “But not necessarily actively dangerous toward you. See the stripes of orange?” I did, and nodded. “That means the spell doesn’t know. Whoever this is, their intentions are guarded.”

“Tell me something I didn’t know,” I sighed.

“Alright,” she agreed. “It’s a powerful nonhuman, although I’m not surprised. Probably male, and he isn’t an elf. Other than that, I’d say that he’s a vampire or a werewolf. The residue is very strange, but I’d guess that he doesn’t want to hurt you—he wants to help you—but he’s been asked to hurt you.”

I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, but stopped. I knew that Caninus did want to help me—that was better than what I had before. I’d just assumed he was honest. But then…why give over Alayna? It was a mystery, but not one that compelled me to call him up at nightfall and ask. “Thanks,” I said to her shortly. “Is there anywhere else you want to look?”

“I’d like to take a break,” she admitted sheepishly. “Then I’ll look over your car and everything for hostile magic.” I nodded, and felt it as she let go of the spell. Even if I hadn’t seen and felt it, I’d have known. Merula swooned—I hadn’t known anyone did that anymore—and fell to the floor in a faint.

“Shit.” I descended upon her, although I wasn’t sure what I’d be able to do for her. She couldn’t draw energy from me, and not just because it was illegal but because she didn’t have any of my blood. I pressed my fingers to the pulse in her neck and got a strong response. So I sat back on my heels and watched. In a minute, she came to.

“Sonofabitch,” she said to herself. “This would be so much easier if I had a familiar. Why the hell does he have to be so damn stubborn?”

“Who’s stubborn?”

She looked at me as if just remembering that I was there. “Shit,” she whispered. “It’s witching business. You wouldn’t understand.”

I shrugged. “I know more than you think. I wondered how you’d do so long without a familiar. You failed to bind one, but I didn’t think that meant you couldn’t find and bind a better one.” I helped her off the floor. “Come with me to my office and explain.”

“I can’t believe you had me checked out.” She sighed, swallowing her indignation as she followed me upstairs. “You get one chance, really, to call and bind a familiar. But it has to be their choice too. You see witches with black cats like you can pick one up off the street, but actually they’re all elemental creatures, sort of. The point is, they come in all different forms, which apply to different personalities. Back when I was trying to sell myself as a witching bodyguard, I figured it would look good to have something tough. So I conjured a minor dragon.”

“A dragon? I’ve never seen one as a familiar. Obviously it went badly.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Tell me about it. He hissed at me and told me we weren’t suited. So I tried to banish him so I could call something more suitable. He sniffed the air for a minute and told me ‘there’s someone else on this earth that I want.’ So until he finds whoever he was looking for and binds to them, I can’t call a new familiar. Talk about pain in the ass.”

“So where is this dragon?” I’d never seen one—I was sort of hoping I could.

“He stays in various places. Sometimes at my apartment, sometimes I see him in the schoolyard or graveyards or other places. He sniffs the air like he’s hunting for something. If he answers when I ask, he always tells me that he can’t find whoever the hell it is that he’s looking for. But that they’re close.”

I looked up as something flitted past the window. It was too coincidental but…. “Does he ever follow you?”

“Yeah, a lot actually. I thought he was just testing me until I proved myself worthy but all the books say that if they deny you initially, they’ll deny you forever.”

I looked back out the window. “I think he followed you today. Should you let him in?”

She heaved herself upwards and opened the door to my office. “You there, Familiar?”

“I’m not your familiar,” a deep baritone said.

“You won’t tell me your name, but you won’t leave. What the hell else am I supposed to call you?”

“Don’t call me,” he retorted.

She sighed and bitched, “Listen, get in here if you want in here or leave if you don’t. I don’t need your bullshit.”

It zipped into the room, flying like a hummingbird or dragonfly. I couldn’t see anything of him as he moved quickly. “Come here,” I commanded. “Sit on the desk so I can see you.”

“Why?”

I smiled wryly at him, “Because you’re in my office in my house uninvited. I like to be able to look at my visitors so I can identify them later when they try to kill me.”

I’d never heard a dragon laugh—it was a strange sound, like fire popping. “Very well.” He came and settled on my desk. I nearly gasped. “See something you didn’t expect?”

“I haven’t seen a whole lot of a dragons, I’m afraid,” I replied. He was magenta and copper and a red and orange and yellow, his scales glittering in the light. The wings sprouting from his back were leathery, like bat wings. But his eyes, tilted upwards at the corners, were sparkling with wit and intelligence. “Even if I had, I’d think you’d still be the most stunning I’ve seen.”

He laughed again, showing fangs that reminded me of a large cat, like a panther. “You are very complementary. Who are you?”

I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands around my knees. “I’m surprised you didn’t know.” He shook his head. “I’m Lucifel.”

His dragon eyes opened wide. “You…I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” I said, standing and squaring my shoulders as I bared my tattoo.

“Holy…you are Lucifel! Necromage, hunter, and…by the nine Hells.” Its voice was utterly stunned. I smiled at him.

“So I am. Have been all my life. Except for fifteen minutes around my ninth birthday.”

He rose to meet my face as I sat back down. “You,” was all he said.

“Yes, what about me?”

“You’re the one I was looking for!”