"We may have killed the skinwalker, but I'm pretty sure the demons have other allies besides plant-girl here," Morio interjected. "So we'd better be on alert for more than just Bad Ass Luke and the Psycho Babbler."

"Good point," I said. "Head home, Delilah, but take the side roads and enter via the driveway in the back. We don't want to announce our arrival."

The first edges of dusk were creeping across the sky when we pulled into the rough driveway that led through the acreage to our back door. As I slowly scanned the area, a tingle raced from the back of my neck down through my arms. Demonic aura, that much I could tell.

"Somebody's here," I muttered. "I hope to hell everybody's okay."

Delilah eased her foot off the gas pedal, and we coasted to a stop next to a huge oak tree whose limbs and boughs spread up and over the top of our house. She let the engine idle as she glanced back at me.

"What now? Do we just get out and go in?"

I considered our options. "I think I'd better go in. Chase, you come with me. Delilah and Morio stay here to keep a watch on Wisteria and Tom. If anything happens to us, get out of here fast. Head for the Wayfarer."

Chase and I stepped out onto the muddy ground. He was still looking pained but seemed to be okay overall. When he reached inside his jacket and pulled out his gun, I sidled up to him.

"Bullets won't do you any good against a demon unless you've got blessed water on them."

He blinked. "Holy water?"

I shook my head. "Blessed—holy water may work, but blessed water is enchanted by wizards who specifically know how to handle demons."

Chase cleared his throat. "I don't suppose you have any on hand?"

"No," I said. "And I don't happen to have a wizard of that caliber on hand, either. I wish we did; this would be so much easier. But OIA has grown so lazy over the years that we aren't prepared for things like this. However…" I paused, thinking about the Wayfarer. "Maybe there's a bottle or two down at the bar. I doubt it, but maybe we'll luck out."

"Should we head there now?" He hesitated, staring at the back porch. I realized that Chase was afraid. Belonging to OIA had been a fun game, one that felt powerful and important, but now that we were actually facing an enemy, his job had lost some of its appeal.

I took the lead and headed up the stairs. "We don't have that luxury. We'd put them on guard for sure. Come on, Chase. Just keep your wits about you. Maybe I'm smelling the aura of some lesser creature that wandered through our grounds. An imp or something."

I cautiously edged the screen door open. We kept a lot of our outdoor wear on the back porch, as well as a freezer and other odds and ends—the same as any human family would do. Though I had to admit, most families didn't have hundred-pound bags of rock salt sitting around, nor a litter box for one of their sisters. Chase followed, his gaze never leaving my back. I sensed that he was taking his cues from me and hoped I wouldn't let either of us down.

The door to the kitchen was locked. I silently inserted the key, trying to peer through the crack where the curtains didn't quite fall together. From what I could see, the way looked clear, but that didn't prove anything, and I knew that some demons could blend into their environments.

Before I pushed the door open, I took a deep breath and summoned the power of the Moon Mother. The charge built in my hands, and when I felt armed and ready, I gently pushed the door open with my shoulder and slipped into the kitchen, taking in the entire room in one glance.

The kitchen was empty, but something felt off. As I looked around, trying to place the out-of-synch energy, I realized Maggie's box was gone. And no sign of Iris, who normally would have her head stuck in the refrigerator. House sprites liked to eat. Hell, what had happened to them?

Chase crowded up behind me.

"Step back a couple feet, I've got energy hanging on my hands that could blast you in two—you don't want to accidentally get in the way," I said, keeping my voice low.

He complied, his gun cautiously pointed to the ceiling as he looked around nervously. "What next?"

"I want to know where Maggie and Iris are," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I expected to find them both in the kitchen, but they aren't. There may be a logical explanation, but I don't like the energy that's floating around."

When I tuned in, it was as if static had overtaken the airwaves. I couldn't sense Maggie anywhere, nor Iris or Menolly. I stared down the hall toward the living room. The demonic aura was coming from there and was growing in intensity. Whoever we were facing had more power than I wanted to meet at the end of a wand.

I debated summoning Delilah and Morio, but that would leave Tom unattended. We didn't dare bring him in until we'd made sure the house was secure. The nasty thought that the demons had split up occurred to me—it would be just like them. In which case, defeating one would be easier than two, but it also meant we would have to be on guard for that much longer.

Step by step I made my way down the hall, praying that the demons hadn't found Iris and Maggie. I hadn't thought about them being in danger this morning—our house was warded. But something had gotten through. My stomach fluttered as I thought about the possibilities, and I breathed a silent prayer that my imagination was working overtime. I'd been stupid to leave them unprotected.

Chase followed me. I could smell both his fear and his anticipation, and I knew there was a part of him enjoying this. The hunt, the chase. I understood that side all too well. The Moon Mother and all who followed her—be they moon witch or Were or member of the Hunt—could be a bloodthirsty crew. She was no gentle goddess watching over children and whispering Faerie stories, but a cold and stark mistress who demanded her due.

We approached the end of the hallway leading into the living room, and I sensed movement nearby. I inhaled deeply, readying myself.

As I swung around the corner into the living room, I saw a tall man standing in the middle of the room. A shocking gold spiky haircut topped his head, and his eyes were brilliant crimson, with no pupils to be seen. He was wearing a silk shirt and brown trousers, but they phased in and out along with his body, and I realized that I was looking at an illusion. If Morio had been with me, he would have been able to dispel it so we could see the creature's true form, but Chase pulled up short, fully taken in by the sight.

"He's beautiful—" Chase started to say.

"No," I cut him off. "It's an illusion. He's a Psycho Babbler, and he can charm you, so be cautious."

The golden man laughed, but it wasn't friendly. Definitely not Santa Claus, I thought. I'd met Santa, and he was truly a saint in rough clothing. This man… not man—demon—this demon was wrapped up in a pretty package, but he was evil incarnate, and if I didn't keep my focus, he'd take advantage of any slip or opening. And we'd be on a one-way ride to hell.

"Don't look him in the face," I said to Chase, keeping my gaze on the Psycho Babbler's hands. I suddenly realized that I had no idea what powers this creature had besides his ability to charm humans and half-humans. For all I knew, he was as dangerous as Smoky. What I wouldn't give to have that dragon standing beside me right now.

"Give me the man, and I'll let you live," the demon said.

"What man? This man?" I nodded at Chase, playing dumb. I wanted to ask about Iris and Maggie, but on the off chance that they'd managed to hide, I didn't want to alert the creature to their presence.

The Babbler looked at Chase and snorted. For just a moment, his illusion wavered, and I saw his true form. He was dark and thick, with reptilian hide, and looked like a bipedal gecko with fangs curving out of his mouth like warthog tusks. His fingers were tipped with razor-sharp claws. One swipe could gut me.

"Hell. Chase, get out of here and go get Morio and Delilah. Take their place and lock the car doors." I blocked the way, inserting myself between the two men. When Chase hesitated, I said, "Now! Do as I say, or you're going to die. Trust me."

Chase turned and ran as I focused on the glowing balls of moonlight that were balanced on my fingertips. Enough talk.

"Burn!" I yelled, thrusting my palms toward the Psycho Babbler. The force shot out from my hands, striking him full in the chest. He staggered back as a swirl of smoke rose from his skin, and the illusion he'd been projecting vanished. I darted back around the doorway, hiding behind the arch that led into the living room as I summoned more power. As I drew the moonlight into my hands, I ran through my repertoire of spells, but none were as direct as the energy blasts. They were the least likely to backfire, too.

I listened, trying to pinpoint the heavy breathing of the demon, but the air was silent. That was strange. I should be able to hear him, especially with the wards I'd set up in the house. I knew better than to just peek around the corner, but I had to find out where he'd gone. If he was just on the other side of the doorway, all it would take was one swipe from around the corner. However, he might have climbed through the window out onto the porch.

Steeling my courage, I cautiously inched around the corner, peering into the empty room. The windows were closed, yet there was no sign of him. Where the hell had he gone? It shouldn't be too hard to follow his signature, but doing so would leave me vulnerable, because I couldn't keep my spell at the ready and locate him at the same time.

I reluctantly shifted focus and began looking for the auric signature of the creature. There! He'd moved toward the center of the room, the sparkles of purple and crimson were as clear as footprints in wet sand, but then they abruptly vanished. Damn it. He'd teleported or muted his trail in some other manner. He could be anywhere.

Frustrated, I dropped my guard. My first mistake. My second mistake almost killed me. I was so immersed in wondering where the Psycho Babbler had gone that I didn't notice a rustling behind me. The next thing I knew, thick hands wrapped themselves around my waist as the demon caught me up.

"Give me the man, and I won't tear you to shreds," he said, his voice raspy. But even as he spoke, I heard another sound from behind us. The Psycho Babbler let out a short scream as I fell to the floor. Catching myself, I whirled around in time to see him towering over Iris, who had stabbed him in the back with a pair of pruning shears. He took a step toward her as she backed away, a terrified look in her eyes.

* * *

CHAPTER 17

"Iris, run! Go get help!"

Before he could hit her, I dropped to the floor, rolling my full weight against the back of his legs. The Psycho Babbler wavered, then began to fall forward, cursing in the Hellanic tongue—not to be confused with Hellenic. As he thundered to the floor, I crouched, squatting as I called down the lightning. No time for a slow, steady build, I willed the crackling forks to shoot from the heavens.

The demon flicked his tongue as he staggered to his feet. His skin was like armor, scaled and leathery and a coppery shade of rust, and as he opened his mouth, I could see gleaming droplets clinging to his tusks and teeth. Great, the dude had envenomed saliva, a common trait with minor demons.

"Ugly bugger, aren't you?" I felt the niggling kiss of the lightning and opened wide to the power. As the full fury slammed through my body, I struggled to keep conscious. If I passed out, the energy would turn on me and crisp me alive.

I staggered to my feet. The Psycho Babbler did the same, and we squared off, like Jukon fighters from the island nations of Otherworld, awaiting the signal to begin. And, like Jukon fighters, we were in this to the death. Unlike the ocean warriors, I wasn't ready to die at a moment's notice.

"Give it up, girl. You know you can't win against me," the demon said, his voice thick and whistling around his big, sloppy tongue.

I ignored the taunt, narrowing my concentration as the charge built in my body. I felt myself growing tall and terrifying as forks began to flicker off my body. Inhaling, I whispered a prayer to the Moon Mother, and she answered. Strong, she was, and her quicksilver blood flowed through my body, blood to blood, breath to breath, flesh to flesh. With one last breath, I raised my hands. Demon he may be, but I was half-Faerie and a witch, and even if my powers did short-circuit on occasion, I still summoned the moon and lightning to do my bidding.

He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Witch—"

"You've got that right," I said. "And you forgot Etiquette Lesson 101. Never, ever make a witch angry." And then I loosed the lightning. Twin forks shot out of my hands, catching him square in the chest. He grunted, stumbling as the smell of burning flesh hit my nostrils. I immediately began readying for another attack.

He lurched forward, swiping at me with one of his great paws, and I nimbly dodged the attack. The demon took another swing, this time missing me by mere inches. I hastily jumped aside, trying not to lose my balance. If I didn't get somebody in here fast, I was going to end up on the bad end of the shish kebab.

I strained my ears, listening for the sound of approaching help. Nada. And then I heard something—a faint clicking from the kitchen. I shot a quick glance out the window and saw that dusk had fallen early, thanks to the heavy cloud cover.

"Yo! Demon! Come kiss my ass," a familiar voice sliced through the room. As the Psycho Babbler turned, I caught a glimpse of Menolly, her eyes glowing crimson, fangs fully extended. As she vaulted toward him, I hit him with another blast, aiming for his legs. His hide was so tough that the energy charred his skin but did little other damage.

Thunder rumbled through the room as the lightning raced through his body. Menolly grunted—the lightning wouldn't hurt her, but she didn't like it. The demon apparently liked it even less. He swung around, and his claws barely missed me, but he managed to fall on me, knocking me to the ground. I screamed as his toothy grin came within inches of my face, but then he rose in the air as if a marionette on a string, and I saw that Menolly, my slight, petite sister, had hold of him with one hand.