Page 51 of Want Me, Take Me, Haunt Me, Make Me

None came. Only still darkness surrounded him. The sounds of pain and despair went on unchanged, with no roars of outrage from the lair beyond. The gate stayed as it had been, only lacking a bit of one lock, and Ligat didn’t feel the sudden weight of Perthrux’s awareness or the agony of its displeasure. More than that, he’d been able to tamper with the lock; the demon’s work hadn’t yanked him away or held him paralyzed at the last moment.

He’d done it. Ligat walked away, carefully keeping a normal, casual pace, and wondered how.

The strange electricity that had come from Chapman’s television? It had run through him like Hazel’s knife, filling his head with stars and song, and had left Perthrux shaken as well as wounded. The demon had given orders afterward, and Ligat had obeyed as ever—out of constraint or habit? Perhaps taking Hazel against the wall of the abandoned building had brought him more freedom, renewing his connection to mortal pleasures, or perhaps simply spending time in the world of the living had set him on that path. Perhaps both.

The young idiot who’d fallen into Perthrux’s hands was as long gone as the era when he’d lived, the world of steamships and leather-bound books and telegrams. Ligat had come too far even to dream of going back—the impossibility of it was a dull knife on his nerves—but maybe Hazel had cast a net when she’d caught him in her yard and dredged up some still-living part of his soul.

He doubted that would end well, but he couldn’t regret it.

Chapter 27

“Are you okay?”

It took Hazel too long to recognize the voice, since Jess was the only other person in the library. She’d opened her eyes, straightened up from leaning her head against her hand, and half turned around before she’d come up with a name and a face. “Basically.”Just finewouldn’t pass muster when she’d almost fallen asleep at the library terminal. “Tired, that’s all. But thank you for checking.”

“I try to make sure nobody dies in here,” said Jess. “It’s notexplicitlypart of the job, but I think the city council would have opinions if I didn’t. They’re demanding that way.”

Hazel found the energy for a smile. “Very unreasonable. What am I paying my taxes for if I can’t pass away at a public computer?”

Jess laughed, quietly enough to suit the environment, but then gave Hazel a long once-over, their hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans. “Not that it’s any of my business, but you look like a zombie, and you’re doing a lot more work in here than you used to. Did you lose power out at your place? Or did the roof finally cave in?”

“My laptop broke,” said Hazel, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if either of your suggestions happened too.”

“Yikes. Kathy said you’d taken on a big job, but…”

“Bigger than I’d realized,” Hazel said, remembering the tall spires of the deserted city.

“Seems like that’s a thing with home renovation. My uncle’s always finding a new problem with his house—I think the latest is wasps.” Jess shuddered. “Are you about ready to flee to the nearest Motel 6?”

Hazel shook her head. “It’s not really an option for me, much as I’d love to.”

The thought actually brought up a little flutter of reluctance, startling Hazel. She didn’t want Perthrux and Chapman and tooth-flowers in the walls, naturally, but she’d put enough work into the house to dislike the idea of abandoning it, and she realized she’d miss the garden and Bramble.

And Ligat?

Dismissingthatthought firmly, she focused on Jess again. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Pfft.” Jess waved a hand. “Not that I want you to be unwell, but if youdidfaint, it’d be the most excitement I’ve had for a week.”

“I’ll do my best another time.”

“As long as you don’t throw up. I’ve had plenty ofthatduring story hour. Someday, one of those kids is going to go into politics, and I’ll either get to blackmail them or sell information to the tabloids. ‘Presidential Hopeful Scared of Little Bunny Foo Foo.’”

“Hey, that rabbit was amenace.”

They both giggled. Looking up at the librarian, Hazel realized that she was having a good time, in a quiet way, and wished she had the kind of life where she could go out for coffee with Jess or invite them over for a bad movie. It would have been nice to have a local friend, one without the now-awkward sexual tension she had with Maxwell—and ideally one who hadn’t lied about their origins.

Even before the demon had bitten her, Hazel wouldn’t have let herself hope too much. Most people backed way off when her abilities inevitably became clear. Tiffany was the only one who’d stuck around without having any prior experience of the supernatural. Hazel might have chanced a coffee anyhow—humans were incurablepack animals and Jess seemed open-minded—but the thought of the hand in her hallway stopped the idea cold. She could just see its fingers closing around Jess’s thin frame.

She shuddered and saw the librarian’s face cloud again. “Goose walked over my grave, I guess,” Hazel said, before Jess could ask any questions and she could give in and vent. “I was wondering, though: Have you ever heard of a guy called Maxwell Redfern around here?”

“The onlyRed FernI know is an angsty middle grade novel.”

“How about a guy my age, tall, with a British accent and brown hair? Or a woman with the same kind of accent?”

“Oh, no.Thatwould have stuck with me.” Jess leaned against the side of the cubicle, interest lighting up their gaze. “Jeez, you’ve been here a month and you’re already running into mystery men?”

“I guess so,” said Hazel, and spilled.