Ruby Shadows (42 page)

I held my breath, hoping Laish would say no.
That he would tell the other demon that I had a hold on him because
he cared for me—not just because he wanted to use me like a battery
to recharge. Or take my virginity to feed his own power. Or worst
of all, suck up my soul. But I heard no such thing.

“
I do not wish to speak
further of this matter,” Laish replied shortly.

“
But, my Lord—”

“
I
said
I will not speak of it
further.” Laish’s voice dropped to a menacing growl.

“
Yes, my Lord.” I imagined
Belial doing his awkward bow again.

I couldn’t help thinking that he had seemed
like such a nice, kindly old demon—before I heard him telling Laish
he should have given me to the Skitterlings or use me in some
unspeakable way. I guessed appearances could be deceiving.

“
In that case, I will
leave you for the evening,” I heard him tell Laish. “Perhaps we can
take council tomorrow before you and the young lady set out
again.”

“
Perhaps. But I do not
intend to set out again immediately. I have taken precautions that
should allow us to rest here for at least two nights. Gwendolyn has
had a very difficult time during our journey so far—she needs to
regain her strength.”

Well, it was nice to know
he was thinking of me even if he didn’t know why he liked me. For
some reason the thought put a lump in my throat—which was stupid.
Like I wanted a demon to care for me. Like he would even be
able
to care.
He doesn’t have a soul, remember?
I told myself.
What did
you expect?

Well, something more than this, anyway.
Especially after he’d been so sweet and kind and caring and
protective. After he acted like I actually mattered to him. After
he made me care… Suddenly I was ready to get out of the tub.

I pulled the plug and stepped out, grabbing
a thick, white towel I’d placed at the tub’s edge before sinking
down into the bubbles. I’d been in for so long my fingers had begun
to get all pruney—I hate that. I told myself that was why I felt so
miserable as I dried myself off briskly and wrapped the towel
around me.

Laish knocked at the door just as I finished
securing the towel.

“
Gwendolyn? May I come
in?”

“
Don’t bother—I’m coming
out,” I said. I opened the bathroom door and stepped past him into
the living area between the bathroom and the bedroom. It had
several comfortable looking black leather couches and, of course,
the ubiquitous fireplace. That made sense, since Laish was a fire
demon. Not that fire was his only source of power, I reminded
myself unhappily.

“
You are finished with
your bath already?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“
Oh yes—I’ve been in there
for ages. I think I must have fallen asleep,” I said, which wasn’t
a total lie. “Why—how long have you been back in the room?” I
asked, as casually as I could. “I thought you had business to
attend to?” No point in letting him know I’d overheard his
conversation.

“
I attended to it.” He
came forward and put his hands on my shoulders. “Now I would very
much like to attend to
you
. You look beautiful wearing only
a towel.”

The night before his touch and the desire in
his ruby red eyes had made me quiver. Now they left me cold.

“
Thanks but I don’t think
I need attending to,” I said lightly, stepping away from his hands.
“Especially if you’re talking about paying the Sin Tax.”

He frowned. “As a matter of fact, we do not
have to pay the tax tonight. I have made arrangements so that we
can spend at least two nights here, relaxing and regaining our
strength.”

“
That sounds great,” I
said, trying to smile. But I didn’t think an extra night would
matter to me. Two nights or two hundred or two thousand—I didn’t
care how long we were here, I didn’t want him touching me when he
didn’t even know himself how he felt about me. When I had no idea
what his motives were.

“
Well, as you are not
interested in paying the tax, perhaps I can tempt some of your
other appetites,” Laish murmured, withdrawing the little
black-handled knife from his pocket. “There are night clothes laid
out for you in the bedroom but before you go to change, please tell
me what you’d like for dinner.”

I suddenly remembered what Belial had said
about the Sacrifice of Blood being painful—agony, he had called it,
hadn’t he? My stomach turned over at the thought.

“
Thanks but I’m really not
hungry,” I said, shaking my head. “Please don’t hurt yourself on my
behalf.”

Laish frowned. “Gwendolyn, what is this
about? You haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning.”

“
But it was a big
breakfast,” I protested. “Really, I’m fine. Just not
hungry.”

“
Gwendolyn—”

“
All I really want to do
is curl up with a good book and get an early night,” I said,
interrupting him. “In fact, I found several that interested me but
I left them in your library. Do you mind if I go get
them?”

He looked like he wanted to say more—to get
to the bottom of what was going on between us—but to my relief, he
simply nodded.

“
Go. Anything you find in
the library is yours to keep if you like it.”

“
That’s very generous of
you,” I said grudgingly. “I may take you up on it—I noticed you
have some rare spell books Grams would love.”

“
They are yours,
mon ange.”
He spread his
hands. “Everything I have is yours.”

Except your heart,
I thought, but didn’t say. After all, it wasn’t
fair to want him to fall in love with me, even if he could. It
wasn’t like I could return the emotion.

“
Thank you,” I said,
nodding, and went into the bedroom to get dressed.

Laish must not have anticipated my
reluctance to pay the tax with him that night. Or maybe he just
wanted to dress me in something sexy for his own enjoyment.
Whichever the reason, the nighty he’d conjured me was just short of
obscene. It was all in white—of course—with low cut French lace
panties and a babydoll cut top that tied right between my breasts
and fell just to my upper thighs. The only saving grace was that it
had a long-sleeved white silk gown to go with it. I belted it
tightly before slipping out the bedroom door and going softly down
the long corridor to the library.

Someone had set a fire in the fireplace and
it was crackling merrily as I stepped into the big, empty room. The
light it shed didn’t reach the ceiling, however, which was a black
mass of shadows. I couldn’t help feeling eerie about being in the
huge, dim space all by myself.

I told myself to stop being a coward and
walked firmly over to the red leather couch. There were the books,
just where I had left them. Instead of picking them up and taking
them back to the room, I settled in the corner of the couch and
opened one of the spell books. The red leather was warm from the
heat of the fire and soon I had lost myself in an incantation for
returning hidden things to their proper form.

I don’t know how long I read but something
half seen from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked
up quickly and a flash of kaleidoscope colors met my gaze.

“
The mirror—it’s the
Mirror of the Eye,”
whispered a warning
little voice in my ear.
“Look away quick,
Gwendolyn!”

But when I tried, I found I couldn’t look
away—I was trapped.

The first thing I saw was Laish, staring
back at me with his ruby red eyes. There was a look on his face I
couldn’t read. Then, almost as suddenly as his image had appeared,
the kaleidoscope colors swirled and he was gone.

Still trapped in the mirror’s spell, I saw a
girl with pale blonde hair—so light it was almost white—and eyes
the color of lilacs. She had on a long white robe and some kind of
feathery stole that wrapped around her shoulders.

“
Gwendolyn,” she
whispered. “Help me! Help me get out of here. If you cannot send me
back to my home, then send me to the Mortal Realm. Anyplace is
better than here where
he
might find me. Don’t let him take me back! Don’t
let him hurt me—please!”

“
Who are you?” I whispered
but the girl’s image was already fading. In its place was the
figure of a man—a man I felt I knew even though I didn’t recognize
his face. In fact, I couldn’t even actually
see
his face—no matter how hard I
looked, the features refused to become clear to me.

Suddenly, I knew who it was.

“
Shadowlock!” I whispered
through numb lips. He was the warlock who Celeste, Taylor’s vampire
mistress, had hired to do the spell which was to have transferred
Taylor’s power to her. He was one of the strongest warlocks in the
country—if not
the
strongest. I had felt his immense power that night he did the
spell because he’d put a barrier around Taylor which we had to
break through to rescue her. His reputation was well
deserved.

Shadowlock looked the same way he had the
one and only time I’d laid eyes on him, though I had seen him only
momentarily after I had opened the door to the Abyss and pulled
Taylor back from the pit. At the time I’d been so drained of power
I could barely move—stealing a soul away from the edge of eternity
is incredibly tiring. He’d been standing in the moonlight looking
at me—maybe sizing up the competition—before he turned and stalked
away.

He was a big guy—very muscular and as he had
been that night, he was wearing a plaid shirt, tight, faded jeans,
and worn boots. He seemed to have the whole Texas cowboy thing
going on—at least according to Taylor. She’d said he had a thick
drawl that matched his boots and jeans. I’d found the idea of a
country-boy warlock funny before but now I just stared at him. Why
was the mirror showing me this? What point was it trying to
make?

The Shadowlock in the mirror tipped his
cowboy hat at me.

“
Hey there,
sweetheart—what can I do for you?”

“
I don’t know,” I
whispered. “I don’t even know why I’m seeing you—or if you’re
real.”

He frowned—at least
I
thought
he did.
It was hard to tell with the face-obscuring spell that hid his
features.

“
Oh, I’m real, darlin’.
The question is, am I dreaming of you or are you dreaming of
me?”

“
Dreaming?” I whispered.
“This is no dream. This is—”

But just then the image in the mirror
changed again.

This time it showed me the picture of a
girl—a girl with skin my color or a little darker and wild, untamed
black hair. She was huddled in a corner with her back to me so at
first I didn’t know who it was. But then someone else came into the
room with her.

“
Get up!” The tall man
with one gold tooth in the front and baggy jeans that sagged and
showed his boxers was immediately and hatefully familiar to me. He
had greasy brown hair that hung in his face and mean eyes the color
of mud. “Get up, bitch,” he barked at the girl again. When she
didn’t respond, he kicked her hard in the ribs.

A sharp, hurt noise came from the girl and
she began to get laboriously to her feet. But she wasn’t moving
fast enough for the man.

“
I said get
up
, you fucking whore!”
Reaching for her arm, he yanked her upright and slapped her cheek,
rocking her head back on her neck.

“
Sorry
,” the girl moaned. “Just tired, Ray…so
tired.”
She turned her head
and
at last I saw her face.

“
Keisha,” I whispered, my
throat tight with unshed tears. My little sister’s face looked much
older than it should. There were lines around her eyes and mouth
and a fresh bruise on one cheekbone. When she opened her mouth, I
saw that two of her front teeth were missing and there was a cold
sore blooming on her bottom lip.

“
Sorry,” she mumbled
again, looking up at the man who had her by the arm. “Just sleepy
is all.”

“
You better wake the fuck
up, Keisha,” he snapped, shaking her. “I got two guys here that
like to share. Don’t you fucking disappoint them or you won’t get
your taste tonight—understand?”

“
Aww, c’mon, Ray,” she
mumbled. “You promised no more two-fers. Those
hurt.”

“
I don’t give a good
Goddamn if it hurts. You
earn
your fix around here, baby. Earn it or get out on
the street. And how long do you think you’d last without somebody
to take care of you? Huh?”

“
Okay, all right…” Keisha
had begun to cry now. “I’ll do it—I’ll
do
it. Just don’t kick me out, Ray.
You know I need you, right?”

“
You don’t need that
bastard, Keisha,” I whispered fiercely. I was crying too—tears of
pain and rage rolling down my face. I hadn’t seen my little sister
for almost a year—her pimp wouldn’t let Grams and me near her. We
had tried everything to save her—from magic to rehab—but somehow
she always went back to him. To him and the miserable life of
prostitution he’d forced her into. It was the drugs—I knew it was.
They had a hold on her so strong that nothing could get her off
them permanently—not while he was still there to give them to
her.