A Wolf at the Door

“No! Do not do that.”

“I told you. I haven’t seen him in a couple of years now.”

“No. No, something’s wrong. It has to be here.” Careful not to get too far from Gretchen, I started walking a spiral in the grass, edging my way outward in a search for…something.

When I found it, it was not what I expected.

13

I nearly stepped on it, and only a faint mewling sound kept me from planting my heavy boot right in the middle of it. In the darkness, in the damp grass, it was easily mistaken for a lump of mud, or a great oversized slug, about the size of a football. “What the hell…? Gretchen, come look at this.”

“You said not to leave the circle.”

“I think it’s safe.” Against my better judgment, I crouched down to get a better look, poking at the strange blob with the end of the tire iron. It shrunk from the touch of metal, curling in on itself, so I poked it again, this time with my finger. It bleated like a tiny goat, and wriggled at my touch. Warmth spread from my fingertip, spreading up to my wrist, then faded away. Mira’s protection spell, barely triggered.

“Ew, what is that?” Gretchen leaned over my shoulder to look, careful to keep me between her and the slimy thing.

“I think this may be your demon.” I poked it again, and it squirmed, helplessly trying to flee my harassment.

“No. No, this can’t be. My demon looked like a man. Tall, handsome. He had red hair.” She scooted closer, and the puling thing in the grass thrashed as best it was able. One end of it—I’ll assume it was the head—reached up toward her, almost begging. “God, do you really think it is?” She reached out to poke it as well, and I caught her wrist. Yes, I was pretty sure it was safe for her to leave the salt circle, but why push our luck?

“Demon strength is measured by how many souls they own. Maybe someone got to him. Took all his souls away. Drained his power, knocked him down a peg.” Or fifty. I’d never seen a demon so weak, but even as we examined its pathetic little form, I knew that’s what it was. A demon that had lost almost every trace of power. It was barely existing.

“How does that happen?”

“Don’t know. Maybe it ran afoul of a champion, like me. Maybe someone fought it, beat it.” There was a part of me that felt some satisfaction at that thought. Maybe this is what happened to the demons I’d fought. Maybe right now, the Yeti was in Hell, oozing through some other demon’s summer garden or something.

Because part of me is still a little boy, I poked it again, just to hear it whine. It curled up in a little hurt ball, making piteous whimpering noises. “It’s so weak, it can’t even speak. We’re not going to find out anything from it.”

“What do we do now?”

I glanced around, then back at Gretchen, shrugging. “This is your chance, you know. If you want your soul back. If I can get it to negotiate somehow, pretty sure I could take it out in this condition. This would all be over.” Hell, I was pretty sure I could stomp it flat with one boot. Squish. Or better yet, dump that bottle of holy water over it and watch it sizzle.

She thought about it for long quiet moments, before shaking her head. “No. No, this is what I chose. If we undo this, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for. It’s all I have to give to my mom and sister. I can’t let that happen.”

Quite frankly, that was not the answer I’d expected. From my crouched position, I looked at her for a while, trying to solve the puzzle she’d become in the short time I’d known her. Finally, I stood, brushing my hands off on my jeans. “Whatever the lady wants. Let’s go then.”

“You’re just going to leave it here?”

“You have a better idea? The odds of it hurting anyone are fairly slim I’d say. It’ll either find its way back across, or it’ll fry when the sun comes up. Either way, it won’t break my heart.”

“It’s suffering.” Even in the dark, her blue eyes were accusing, reminding me that I was supposed to be a better person than this. Dammit. Why do women do this to me?

“Step back. You don’t want this in your eyes.” When she had removed herself to a safe distance, I crouched down again, shaking my mace canister a little as I spoke to the tiny blob in the grass. “Understand that if I had my way, I’d be dumping holy water on you right now. As it is, you get a reprieve. If you ever get a chance, thank the lady.” I gave a small spritz of the spiced-up water, holding my breath and leaning back to keep my own concoction from choking me. The slug-demon gave a small “meep!” noise and vanished. It didn’t even have enough oomph to leave a sulfur smell behind.

I stood again, offering my arm to Gretchen. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Back at the hotel, we briefed a now-conscious Tai on the events of the day, and both bodyguards took their try at reading the demonic contract. I had some brief hope that Tai’s innate abilities would allow him to miraculously translate it, but no such luck.