Back For a Few Demons More
Chapters (48)
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
  44. Chapter 2
  45. About the Author
  46. Also by Kim Harrison
  47. Credits
  48. About the Publisher

“Ceri, the sanctuary is holy!” I protested, but she tapped a line and invoked her circle. A black-stained field of ever-after rose to encompass us, and I shuddered, feeling the smut of her past demon magic slither over me. The circle was a good five feet in diameter, rather large for one person to hold, but Ceri was probably the best ley line practitioner in Cincinnati. She cut her middle finger, and I grabbed her arm. “Ceri, stop! We’re safe!”

Wide-eyed in panic, she shoved me off her, and I fell into the inside of her field, hitting it like a wall. “Get out of the way,” she ordered, starting to draw a second circle inside the first.

Shocked, I pulled myself to the center, and she smeared her blood behind me.

“Ceri—” I tried again, stopping when I saw her intertwining the line with the first, enforcing it. I’d never seen that before. Latin words fell from her lips, dark and threatening. Pinpricks of power crawled over my skin, and I stared when she cut her pinkie and started a third circuit.

Silent, desperate tears marked her face as she finished and invoked it. A third sheet of black rose over us, heavy and oppressive. She switched the filthy gardening blade to her bloodied hand and, shaking, prepared to cut her left thumb.

“Stop!” I protested. Frightened, I grabbed her wrist, sticky with her own blood.

Her head swung up. Blue eyes lost in terror met mine. Her skin was chalk white.

“It’s okay,” I said, wondering what Newt had done to cause this self-assured, unflappable woman to lose it. “We’re in the church. It’s sanctified. You built a damn fine circle.” I looked at it humming over my head, worried. The triple circle was black with a thousand years of curses that Algaliarept, the demon I’d saved her from, made her pay for. I’d never felt such a strong barrier.

Ceri’s pretty head shook back and forth, lips parted to show tiny teeth. “You have to call Minias. God help us. You have to call him!”

“Minias?” I questioned. “Who in hell is Minias?”

“Newt’s familiar,” Ceri stammered, her blue eyes showing her fear.

Was she nuts? Newt’s familiar was another demon. “Give me that knife,” I said, wrestling it from her. Her thumb was bleeding, and I looked for something to wrap it in. We were safe. Newt could have the run of the back for all I cared. Sunup was near, and I’d sat in a circle and waited for it before. Memories of my ex-boyfriend Nick rose through me and vanished.

“You have to call him,” Ceri gushed, and I stared when she fell to her knees and started scribing a plate-size circle with her blood, tears spotting the old oak timbers as she worked.

“Ceri, it’s okay,” I said, standing over her in confusion.