Page 4 of Far From Center
“What about you, Nyalla?” Terrelle asked. “You should have sex, too. It’s good for you. Like eating kale and doing Pilates.”
Sex was better than kale and Pilates. It was better than just about anything. “I’ll have sex once I find the right man.” And hopefully this time he would actuallybethe right one. There had been a whole string of wrong ones. Maybe if she gave up searching for the right one and begun to just enjoy the wrong ones, she’d be happier.
Terrelle sighed. “How about we grab a Benjamin and pay the sailboat man? You can go first, and I’ll get sloppy seconds.”
The information demon’s voice faded into the background as something drifted across her senses. Nyalla opened her eyes and frowned. There it was. Again something right at the edge of her awareness. “Do either of you see anyone nearby?”
Snip spun around in a circle.
Terrelle squinted up at the sky. “No. Maybe over near the lighthouse, but that’s a mile or so away.”
That was too far. She sensed someone, a demon, nearby. Actually she sensed three demons, and there were only two beside her. This was supposed to be an easy assignment, just collect an item from a demon in exchange for another item, but Nyalla had learned never to assume anything involving demons would go as planned. And there definitely were three demons nearby.
“Can you demons do invisibility?” she asked.
Snip laughed. “Not without a very expensive magical device created by a sorcerer.”
Then that would be a ‘yes’. Nyalla sat up, sliding her sunglasses down. It could be their contact, checking up on them as a precaution before their meeting. It could be a rival looking to steal the item from them. It could be some pervert looking to get laid who liked staring at sunbathing women — kind of like Snip.
Less than two years ago she would have been driven into a panic by the presence of an unknown demon, even a Low like Snip. How things had changed. Being able to see into the hearts of those around her, sensing their motivations, and sometimes their thoughts, gave her confidence. Snip was a pervert, but he was strangely honest for a demon. And Terrelle was far more interested in learning new things, discovering all the world had to offer, than anything else…well, anything except sex evidently.
This demon…he seemed lonely, isolated, rigidly in control. He was trying to hide what she suspected was an immense power, but he wasn’t projecting anything that might make her fear for her safety. It was the undercurrent of loneliness that hit her hardest — a longing that was so ancient it had become a part of him, hidden deep but always there.
“Problem?” the Noodle’s voice was casual, but Nyalla was suddenly aware that as bookish as Terrelle was, she was still a demon and capable of defending her if needed.
“No. At least not yet. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s a problem.” Nyalla’s fingers curled around the stick of wood in her purse. This gave her as much of a feeling of security as the two demons by her side. Her thumb rubbed against the wood, feeling the sharp edge of a gem and the indentation of the carved runes. A human girl needed weapons, and she would have been a fool to sunbathe out here without ensuring that if they were attacked, she could do more than cower behind a rock.
“We’ll protect you, Nyalla,” Snip announced, puffing his chest out. “Nothing is going to happen to you on our watch.”
She smiled. As demons went, Snip was pretty awesome.
Her purse beeped, and with some reluctance, Nyalla let go of the wand and pulled the phone out of the bag instead. It was the text she’d been waiting for.
“Hey Snip? Can you run up to the lighthouse and meet another Low? He supposedly has the information on our mission.”
Snip saluted. “Yes, ma’am.” He took off, stubby little legs churning with inhuman speed. In ten minutes he was back, his abnormally long tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted.
“Here. The Low is waiting for your response.” Snip passed her a scroll, sealed with some sticky substance that wasn’t entirely wax. Nyalla flicked it off with a finger and unrolled the parchment, reading it carefully before rolling it up again. It was a letter of introduction, a way of assuring her that the Gormand she was dealing with was legit, and that he did in fact have the item she was sent to retrieve. The scroll included the demon’s sigil, and the one of the angel who was the authenticator of the item. It was real. It had to be real for an angel to sign off on it.
“Thanks. And the exchange? Will he have the artifact at our meeting tomorrow night?”
Snip did an odd little dance, hopping from one foot to another while staring a good six inches above the top of her head. He wasn’t looking at her breasts. That’s how she knew that something was wrong.
“The Gormand won’t discuss that with another demon present. He wants to meet with the ambassador…ambassadoress…yeah, you alone tomorrow night, then after that he’ll make arrangements for the exchange.”
Nyalla bit back a smile. It wasn’t uncommon for demons to pull rank like this. They were so status conscious. A human wouldn’t rank high in their hierarchy, but a human who was the sort-of adopted daughter of the Iblis, of the Ha-Satan — that was another thing entirely. Even so, there was no way she was going to be there alone. Snip and Terrelle might not be the toughest demons in Hel, but their job was to defend her. She wasn’t a fool. She’d never been a fool, even when she was a slave to the elves in Hel. Staying alive as a human without any innate magical skills had required a lot of passive-aggressive manipulation. As had staying out of the way of fists, claws, and teeth.
“Where and when do we meet him tomorrow night?”
“At seven in the evening at the Hooters.”
Hooters. She was on a beautiful Caribbean island and the guy wanted to meet at Hooters. Demons.
“Tell him seven at Charlie’s instead.”
“Carlos and Charlies?” Terrelle asked. “I thought they closed.”
“No, Charlie’s in San Nicolas.”
