Page 33 of Want Me, Take Me, Haunt Me, Make Me

Hazel grinned suddenly, surprising herself. “AndIdon’t have much of a life since your boss decided to make me its business. Five.”

Ligat took another minute. The ghost dog curled up on the ground, his chin on Hazel’s foot, and the bramble-creature rustled slowly. Hazel didn’t get a sense of urgency from either of them. Her stomach took that moment to rumble, but she ignored it.

“Five,” he said slowly. “Yes. We have a bargain.”

* * *

“My first question,” said the medium after another long pause. Ligat could almost see her putting together the words, mortaring them in place so that there were no holes he could exploit, or at least none that she was aware of. “What part do I play in your master’s plans?”

It was well worded; she hadn’t simply asked what the demon wanted, to which the answer would have been equally simple, or even what it wanted with her. “It wants to make you a doorway. Failing that, it’ll give you to Chapman and let him wear your body to continue his work. It would vastly prefer the former—it dislikes delegation.”

She had to have been expecting an answer of the sort, since she didn’t hesitate before nodding. Her voice returned to its earlier flatness, though, disappointing Ligat. “My second question: How would it make me a doorway? Why not just have you kill me? Your boss can’t bethatdedicated to the personal touch.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Ligat. He only winced internally, having made considerable progress in that regard over his time in service. “But no. You’re still too much a creature of the physical world for your death to serve, I can’t take you back to the ethereal directly, and my master’s ability to manifest and capture you itself is…limited.”

“So it’s waiting. For the damage to spread.”

Ligat wasn’t surprised that Hazel caught on so quickly, but watching her reach conclusions was even better up close. He would have given her another compliment if he hadn’t thought she might actually stab him in response. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t blame her, and that small dart of sympathy unnerved him.

“He won’t have to wait long,” he said, not bothering to soften the brutality of his answers. “Mortal bodies don’t make good pipelines for the ethereal, even without the touch of Hell.”

Only a slight inclination of her head showed that she’d heard him. “My third question, then,” she said. “What happens if I die by unrelated means?”

“Chapman walks around in your body. I’d imagine he’d enjoy the experience.”

“Ah,” she said, and the ghost dog opened his eyes at her tone.

The rain fell between them, making its own indentations in the muddy ground and pooling there, a curtain that Ligat both blessed and cursed as he waited for the medium to go on.

* * *

The situation had just gotten simpler, anyhow. Learning that the demon was going to use her as the beachhead of an invasion had suggested one very unpleasant but decisive solution—but from what Ligat said, that wouldn’t actually help. Hazel was selfish enough to be relieved about that and cynical enough to know it wasn’t great news.

She’d thought she had an emergency exit, awful as it would have been, if matters got too dire. No such luck.

Ligat was watching her, so she straightened her back and lifted her chin. The motion made her hood fall back, but to hell with it. Despite what some people had called her in her youth, water wouldn’t melt her. “Fourth question,” she said, sorting through her experiences in the cottage and before. “How many times has your master tried to directly attack me, not counting the séance?”

“A few. The telephone, the hospital, and the incidents in your old home were…” Ligat sighed. “…largely aimed at your morale, shall we say? The hand was a genuine attempt at retrieval.”

“Then what happened just now—”

“Whatdidhappen just now?” he asked, leaning forward. The vines drew him back in a second, but Hazel saw the motion. Her prisoner wasn’t quite as careless as he seemed.

She also noticed that a lock of dark hair had plastered itself to his forehead. The rain had made his robes clingy, too, showing that he didn’t have wings, spines, or tentacles unless he hid themreallywell. His body was essentially human: long and lean in a way that suggested strength in addition to grace. As Hazel watched, raindrops ran down his silver-and-red face, tracing the elegant line of his throat above the open collar of his robe.

Hazel felt her nipples harden and blessed the concealing properties of her raincoat. Dark, secret excitement crept through her despite her best efforts. She tried to remember that she was talking to a minion of the red demon, one who would benefit from her death, and a creature that might not even be human, clinging robes aside. Those were the facts that mattered, but her memory kept returning to the dream. “A manifestation,” she said quickly. “And an unpleasant one. I’m not under the impression that the house or the land has a particularly traumatic history, so I wouldn’t have expected it. And all my own spells have behaved normally.”

“Of course. You’re guiding them. It’s the difference between, oh, throwing a ball for a dog”—he inclined his head toward the ghost puppy, who was still lying with his head on her foot and watching the whole exchange skeptically—“and bleeding when sharks are around.”

“That’s a myth, unless I’m a fish,” said Hazel, mouth on autopilot while her brain tried to simultaneously sort new information and figure out what to ask next.

Ligat gave her a leisurely, mocking grin. “In this metaphor, Miss Lewis, you’re a particularly tender little seal.”

“Ugh.” She mostly meant it. Really. Even if the curve of his mouth made her shiver and the way he saidtenderresonated treacherously within her.

It was time to wrap up and get out. “Fifth question. What’s your master’s name?”

Ligat opened his mouth, then promptly closed it again. It was the first time Hazel had seen him really startled, if startled was the right word. She didn’t have long to read his expression before it vanished. Then he pulled on cynicism again, chuckling low in his throat. “A decent try. But I already told you my limits.”