Green-Eyed Demon

After he rung up the blood and the pound of sausage he’d talked us into, Adam threw some money at the crazy Cajun and pushed me out the door. As the bell dinged again, Alodius called out: “Y’all don’t be strangers, y’hear?”



“That guy was weird,” Adam said.



“I don’t know,” I said. “I thought he was friendly.” I swung the plastic bag as we strolled. Despite the worries hanging over me, I felt optimistic for some reason. Maybe it was the beautiful night. Or the bag of blood in my hands. Or the hot mage walking beside me. Either way, I was determined to make the most of the few moments of peace I could get.



I took a deep breath and tried to enjoy the parade of Greek Revivals, Italianates, and Queen Anne Victorians on display. Up ahead, the sidewalk buckled where the roots of an ancient oak had protested being smothered with concrete. When we reached it, I stepped over. But Adam had been too busy watching for attack to notice the crack. He ended up sprawled on the pavement at my feet.



“Oops, sorry,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Should have warned you.”



He grimaced and dusted off his pants with as much dignity as he could muster. Before he could retort, a shriek ripped through the night. We went still. My heart ran laps around my chest. My eyes narrowed.



Fucking Stryx.



“Shit,” Adam said under his breath. He ducked down as if expected the owl to dive-bomb at any moment. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.



“Do you see him?” I said, crouching next to the mancy.



Out of nowhere, a flash of white zoomed in from the right. A blur of beak and talons flashed. Adam jerked away with a curse. A streak of blood ran down his cheek.



“That’s it. I’m killing that bird right fucking now.” My eyes scanned the branches overhead for a pair of glowing red eyes or a mass of white feathers. I pointed to an upper limb. “There.” I grabbed for my gun.



“Sabiiiiina!” the owl screeched. The hairs on my neck prickled. He rose like a ghost from the tree. I tracked him with the muzzle of my gun, ready to finish the job I’d started in New York. He flew in circles, taunting me. “Sabiiiiiina!”



At the last moment, Adam put a hand over mine. “Wait, maybe we should try to catch him and see if he can tell us anything about Lavinia’s plans.”



“Adam, he’s an owl. What’s he going to tell us?”



The mage shrugged. “Maybe we could use him as a bargaining tool.”



I rolled my eyes. “Right, because Lavinia will totally barter the Oracle of New York for an owl. Come on, Adam.”



“Look, he works for the Caste, right? Maybe he’s got some value or something. We need every advantage we can get. Or has it escaped your attention that we still have no idea where Lavinia’s keeping Maisie?”



I cringed inwardly. Of course it hadn’t escaped my notice. I berated myself hourly for that fact. “Fine. Do your best, magic man,”



Adam slowly rose from his crouch. Stryx broke out of his circle and shot off into the night like a bullet.



“Shit! Let’s go,” I said, already running. Adam kept up, muttering something under his breath. A laserlike flash of magic shot through the air. The hair on my arms prickled as the shot went wide. The owl’s hoot sounded suspiciously like a laugh.



Unfortunately for the bird, this only served to piss the mage off even more. Adam dug in, picking up speed even as he raised his hands and shouted, “Zi dingir anna, keshada, Stryx !”



The owl’s latest screech cut off like someone pulling a needle from a record. His white body nosedived to the ground and disappeared into a group of shrubs along the garden wall of one of the mansions. We high-fived before zooming to retrieve our feathered captive.



Adam pushed the branches aside to reveal Stryx’s inert body. “Is he dead?” I whispered.



He grabbed the owl by its legs. Its head hung just a couple inches over the sidewalk. Unmoving and spookier than ever with its sightless red eyes.



“Nope. Just catatonic.” Adam raised his eyebrows. “What now?”



“Hey, this was your plan. If it was up to me, we’d take that bird back to that butcher. Alodius probably thinks owls are good eatin’.”



Adam’s lips quirked. “Or he’d give us the name of some cousin of his that lives in the swamps who could give us a good deal on some taxidermy.”



I pursed my lips as if considering it. “Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind seeing this damn thing stuffed and mounted.”



Adam shook his head at me. “Or we could take him back to Zen’s, lock him up, and then figure out how to use him to find Maisie.”



“Oh, all right,” I said. “But you might want cover him up or something.”



With that, Adam tucked the owl’s body under his duster and we made our way back to Zen’s.



10



By the time we finally made it back to the shop, it was pushing one in the morning. Even though I normally hit the sack at dawn, I was ready to crash the minute we walked in the door. Too bad we still had to deal with Satan’s owl.



When we opened the door to the attic apartment, we found Giguhl and Brooks sitting on the couch together. Brooks was back in his male gear— jeans, T-shirt, et cetera. Giguhl sat with his arms crossed over bulging biceps. He still wore the sweatpants he had on earlier that evening when we ….



Oh shit.



We’d totally forgotten Giguhl when we left. I took a step forward, ready to apologize. But Brooks held up a hand and shushed me. He patted Giguhl on the arm. “Sabina. Adam. Giguhl has something he’d like to say to you.”



Giguhl’s determined expression faltered. “I don’t think—”



Brooks nudged him. “Go on. Tell her what you told me.”



I shot a look at Adam. He shrugged and rolled his eyes.



Giguhl took a deep, bracing breath and rose from the couch. “Guys, I—” he shot a look at Brooks, who nodded encouragingly. The demon seemed to inflate a little and continued. “I felt disappointed when you left this evening without telling me. It hurt my feelings that you didn’t consider me in your plans.”



I felt bad about forgetting him and all, but an emotional intervention wasn’t on my list of things I wanted to deal with. I set down my bag of blood with a martyred sigh.



Giguhl tossed his claws in the air. “Don’t sigh at me! I’ve been worried sick, and your continued lack of consideration is unacceptable.”



I dropped down on the couch. “Giguhl, what do you want from us? There are some places you can’t go in either demon or cat form.” It was a lame excuse. I’d smuggled him into lots of places, but I didn’t know what else to say. The truth was I had been so wrapped up in my own drama that I’d totally forgotten about him. But admitting that would hurt his feelings even more.



“We’ve always figured out ways for me to come along before,” he challenged. His eyes shifted back and forth between Adam and me. “I thought we were a team.”



From the corner of my eye I saw Adam cringe. I couldn’t meet the demon’s accusing gaze, either. When we’d decided to find Maisie, we’d all agreed it would be as a team. But the whole concept of thinking about someone else’s feelings went against my natural instincts to just take care of everything myself.



“Look, G, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you where we were headed. But you seemed kind of out of it, so I didn’t even consider you might want to come. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Right, Adam?”



“Sorry, G. You’re right. We are a team.”



Giguhl tilted his chin down, accepting our apologies. “One more thing. The next time you have a chance to go to a drag show, I don’t care what you have to do, but you better smuggle my ass in.”



I’d totally forgotten about the faery’s show earlier. “Oh, right. Great show, Brooks.”



The fae winked at me. “Thanks, hon. Adam? What did you think?”



Adam looked a little pained as he struggled for a response. Finally, he settled with, “It was ….. something.”



While Brooks smiled at the mage, Giguhl turned to me. “Please tell me you took pictures.”



“Sorry, G. I was so entranced it didn’t occur to me.” Turning to Brooks, I said, “Where did you learn to do the splits like that?”



With his eyes on Adam, he said, “I’m extremely flexible.”



I changed the subject. “I have a question. How do you prefer to be addressed?”



Brooks smiled. “You mean do I consider myself a ‘he’ or a ‘she’?” When I nodded uncomfortably, Brooks continued. “I know it gets confusing. A lot of queens don’t go by ‘she’ at all, some insist on ‘she’ all the time, and others only when they’re in drag. Me? I’ll answer to anything.”



I nodded. “Good to know. I didn’t know if you were sensitive—”



Brooks waved a hand. “Darlin’, I tuck my unmentionables and secure them with duct tape.” Giguhl hissed and Adam covered his crotch with his hand.



I laughed. “Well when you put it that way …..”



Adam dropped his protective hand and shifted uncomfortably. “Since you’re in a sharing mood, I’ve got a question, too. Which species of fae are you exactly?”



Brooks crossed his — I’d decided to stick with the masculine for simplicity— arms, his expression gone from flirtatious to defensive. “Why?”



Adam shrugged. “Just wondering. Most of the fae I know try to live near green spaces or have access to other fae.”



Brooks’s chin went up. “I suppose I would do that, too, if I’d been raised among the fae.”



I frowned. “What does that mean?”



Adam nudged me. Under his breath he said, “He’s a changeling.”



I looked up at Adam. “Huh?”



But Brooks stepped in. “He said I’m a changeling. My fae parents left me with humans right after I was born. I was raised as a human kid until it became obvious I wasn’t like the other children. I tried to hide it for a while, but then I couldn’t deny it any longer. Unfortunately, my human parents weren’t too thrilled when I came out of the faery mound, so to speak. They kicked me out when I was fourteen.”

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