Page 133 of The Shade of Things
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After changinginto something more suitable for breaking, entering, and kicking butt, I returned to the curio shop just before closing.
Given Clea’s look of surprise, she hadn’t expected me back this soon. Or at all. “Failed already?” She sounded almost cheerful, dusting off chachkas with an old-fashioned feather duster.
She’d hung the masks she’d unpacked during my last visit on one wall, their empty eyes tracking me.
Shuddering, I turned my back on them. “Zev BatKian destroyed the puzzle box.”
“I’m devastated that our business dealings are concluded,” she drawled. “Bye now.”
I leaned over the counter. “Clea, there are two things you want more than anything.”
“Yeah?” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s the first?”
“To keep humanity safe. If you don’t help me, people will die, and the ones who live will wish otherwise. You didn’t see what the game did to them. I wouldn’t inflict that suffering on my worst enemy.”
She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. “What’s the second?”
I hit her with my brightest smile. “To keep me out of your life. If you don’t help me, I’ll show up every day to have lunch with you. With magazines where we take quizzes to improve our sex lives and bond over nail polish colors.”
“I’ll be back at HQ tomorrow. You’ll never get across to the rock a second time.”
“You willing to bet on that?”
Her scowl grew darker and I took a step back, but she didn’t pound me to smithereens with her superstrength. “Jeez,” she bitched. “You even take the fun out of messing with you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She toyed with one of her facial studs. “The puzzle box wasn’t a demon artifact, okay?”
“A gargoyle said it smelled of vamp.”
“It belonged to Celeste, but she couldn’t open it either, so she gave it to me.” Clea shrugged. “I was curious how to open it.”
I picked up a pointy hatpin from a small jar. “Everything about burning a favor was a lie? You don’t have a way for me to destroy the demon space?”
“No. That part was true. I don’t screw around where demons are concerned.” She pulled two small, corked vials out of the cash register drawer and held them up to the light.
“Pink glitter?” I spun the hatpin. “I’m not making a scrapbook.”
“Much as I would love to hand this over and let you learn all its delightful properties on your own,” Clea said, “Nav would stick me with extra store duty if you didn’t come back in one piece.” She slid the vials across the counter. “Two rules. First, don’t swallow any.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Roll away, but swallow even one sparkly molecule of this and watch the fun ensue,” she said balefully. “Second, pour the glitter out in a single pile.”
I shook the vials. “Are you sure this is enough? It’s a very large space. Bigger than the Park, remember?”
“The glitter is demonic. Don’t apply human logic to it.”
“Can I safely transport it through the Kefitzat Haderech?”
“Yes, because the pink stuff is inert until you add the vinegar in the other vial, but add it immediately to the open glitter to activate it.”
“Like epoxy. Got it. Will I need to clean anything up?”
She barked a rusty laugh. “No. It’s self-cleaning. Do not stick around once you’ve poured it. Trust the glitter to do its job.”
