You Slay Me
Page 24
I glanced around quickly to make sure no one saw me talking to my dog, then made squinty eyes. "Why?"
I swear Jim shrugged. "Names have power. The one you keep tossing around has more power than most. I would have thought that as a Guardian you knew that, but I forgot that I've been bound to the
Forrest Gump of Guardians. Lucky, lucky me."
"Right," I said, losing the remainder of my patience. "You have made me waste two whole hours while I ran around finding food that you would accept, not to mention undergoing a detailed tour of the Tiiileries while you peed on every available shrub—"
"I like to pee. It's fun. We don't get to do anything like this back home."
I ignored the interruption, keeping a wary eye out for eavesdroppers. "—as well as dropped demon ploppies everywhere, which / had to clean up, so now it's time for you to do the job I summoned you to do—find Drake's lair. Which direction is it?"
A mother and her two little kids strolled by, the woman pausing to say something harsh to me. I had no idea what her problem was until I looked down to find Jim writhing in apparent agony, making the most tortured face a New-fie could possibly make.
I released Jim's ear and patted it on the head as I told her, "Don't pay any attention to it—it's trying to drive me insane."
"Sounds like a short trip," Jim muttered just loud enough for me to hear as the woman snarled something in what I was willing to bet was gutter French before she stormed off.
"Oh, thank you so very much. Just make me look like the type of a person who beats up on dogs!"
"You held my earhard," Jim accused.
"You're a demon!" I all but shouted, wanting to tear out my hair in frustration. "You're used to eternal tor-ment,not that I was holding your ear hard. So stop com-plaining, stop stalling, stop creating distractions and do the job I brought you here to do!"
"I don't suppose you'd care to swing by anotherboucherie for a morsel more of that prime-aged beef you bought me this morning?"
I let the demon see in my eyes its fate if it didn't do what I wanted.
Jim sighed and plopped down in an unhappy slump. "I can't."
Another group of children was approaching. I tugged on the leash, heading to a quiet area next to some trees. "You can't what?" I asked when we were far enough away so we couldn't be heard.
"I can't find the wyvern's lair."
I counted to ten to keep from strangling Jim, not that I was entirely sure I could since it(a) wasn't technically a living being and(b) was approximately the size of a small pony, and thus strangling with my bare hands would be difficult.
Through still-clenched teeth I said, "But not com-pletely out of the question. Why can't you find Drake's, lair?"
Jim rolled its eyes. "Because I don't know where it is! Do I look like I have the phone book memorized?"
"You're a demon. You have demonic powers. I may not be the savviest Guardian around"—thatwas the un-derstatement of the year—"but I do know that demons have all sorts of abilities, and surely one of them must be to find someone who is being sought."
"In a normal situation, yes," Jim said, looking long-ingly at a bank of rhododendrons. I jerked on the leash to remind it that I was waiting. "But my case is a little dif-ferent. I… eh… don't have any powers."
The last sentence was spoken so softly, I thought I'd misheard. "Youwhat?"
It glared at me. "I don't have any powers, OK? Amaymon stripped me of them when he cast me out of his le-gions. You want to rub a little salt into the wound? Go right ahead. I'm just a demon; I don't have any feelings."
"You don't," I agreed. Jim sniffed and turned away as if tears were imminent. I reminded myself that demons might take the form of a human (or if they were particu-larly deranged, a dog), but they weren't really human. They didn't have feelings that could be hurt with mere words. "You can stop pretending you're crying, because I'm not buying it. Oh, geez, will you stop? You're mak-ing me feel like the biggest bully on the face of the earth."
I pulled a tissue out of my bag, wiping up the doggy tears that Jim had somehow managed to manufacture.
"You yelled at me."
I tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it came out a semihysterical laugh. "If anyone ever told me that a demon would make me feel guilty about asking it to do the job it was summoned to do, I'd say that person was a grade-A lunatic."
Jim gave me an accusatory look.
I raised my hands in surrender and staggered over to a shady bench to collapse with defeat. "I give up—I just absolutely give up. I asked Drake nicely to give me back my dragon, and he refused. I asked him a few questions, and he gave me the runaround for answers. I summoned up a demon, and I got a demon that's been kicked out of He … Abaddon. Why am I trying anymore? I should just go to Inspector Proust and save him the bother of hunting me down, because he's sure as heck going to lock me up and throw away the key when I can't prove my inno-cence."
Jim sat next to my feet. "You want me to find some balloons for this pity party you're having?"
"Go away," I mumbled, my head in my hands as I tried to work up a few tears of self-pity. They wouldn't come, damn it. "Just go back to wherever it is you came from, and leave me alone."
"I can't leave. You're my master, remember?"
"I'm freeing you."
"Doesn't work that way."
I looked up at the demon. "Oh, right, I have to conduct the release ritual. I can't do it here. You'll just have to wait until I get back to the hotel."
"Whatever. No hurry. I'm enjoying being out. As you can imagine, we demons don't get around much. Last time I was in Paris, they were beheading everyone. Ah, how I miss the good old days."
I sniffled a couple of times, sighed once or twice, and gave up on feeling sorry for myself. I never could do it well. "Well, poop. And no, I didn't mean that as a com-mand."
Jim made a husky sound that I took for laughter. I shook my finger at it. "Don't even think of trying to be nice to me—I can't take it right now."
"Nice?Moi?”
The expression of astonishment on Jim's furry face was so amusing, I couldn't help but giggle. "Right. Let's get down to business, then. If you can't help me find Drake, I'll just have to manage it myself, although how I'm supposed to do that is beyond me at the moment."
I swear Jim shrugged. "Names have power. The one you keep tossing around has more power than most. I would have thought that as a Guardian you knew that, but I forgot that I've been bound to the
Forrest Gump of Guardians. Lucky, lucky me."
"Right," I said, losing the remainder of my patience. "You have made me waste two whole hours while I ran around finding food that you would accept, not to mention undergoing a detailed tour of the Tiiileries while you peed on every available shrub—"
"I like to pee. It's fun. We don't get to do anything like this back home."
I ignored the interruption, keeping a wary eye out for eavesdroppers. "—as well as dropped demon ploppies everywhere, which / had to clean up, so now it's time for you to do the job I summoned you to do—find Drake's lair. Which direction is it?"
A mother and her two little kids strolled by, the woman pausing to say something harsh to me. I had no idea what her problem was until I looked down to find Jim writhing in apparent agony, making the most tortured face a New-fie could possibly make.
I released Jim's ear and patted it on the head as I told her, "Don't pay any attention to it—it's trying to drive me insane."
"Sounds like a short trip," Jim muttered just loud enough for me to hear as the woman snarled something in what I was willing to bet was gutter French before she stormed off.
"Oh, thank you so very much. Just make me look like the type of a person who beats up on dogs!"
"You held my earhard," Jim accused.
"You're a demon!" I all but shouted, wanting to tear out my hair in frustration. "You're used to eternal tor-ment,not that I was holding your ear hard. So stop com-plaining, stop stalling, stop creating distractions and do the job I brought you here to do!"
"I don't suppose you'd care to swing by anotherboucherie for a morsel more of that prime-aged beef you bought me this morning?"
I let the demon see in my eyes its fate if it didn't do what I wanted.
Jim sighed and plopped down in an unhappy slump. "I can't."
Another group of children was approaching. I tugged on the leash, heading to a quiet area next to some trees. "You can't what?" I asked when we were far enough away so we couldn't be heard.
"I can't find the wyvern's lair."
I counted to ten to keep from strangling Jim, not that I was entirely sure I could since it(a) wasn't technically a living being and(b) was approximately the size of a small pony, and thus strangling with my bare hands would be difficult.
Through still-clenched teeth I said, "But not com-pletely out of the question. Why can't you find Drake's, lair?"
Jim rolled its eyes. "Because I don't know where it is! Do I look like I have the phone book memorized?"
"You're a demon. You have demonic powers. I may not be the savviest Guardian around"—thatwas the un-derstatement of the year—"but I do know that demons have all sorts of abilities, and surely one of them must be to find someone who is being sought."
"In a normal situation, yes," Jim said, looking long-ingly at a bank of rhododendrons. I jerked on the leash to remind it that I was waiting. "But my case is a little dif-ferent. I… eh… don't have any powers."
The last sentence was spoken so softly, I thought I'd misheard. "Youwhat?"
It glared at me. "I don't have any powers, OK? Amaymon stripped me of them when he cast me out of his le-gions. You want to rub a little salt into the wound? Go right ahead. I'm just a demon; I don't have any feelings."
"You don't," I agreed. Jim sniffed and turned away as if tears were imminent. I reminded myself that demons might take the form of a human (or if they were particu-larly deranged, a dog), but they weren't really human. They didn't have feelings that could be hurt with mere words. "You can stop pretending you're crying, because I'm not buying it. Oh, geez, will you stop? You're mak-ing me feel like the biggest bully on the face of the earth."
I pulled a tissue out of my bag, wiping up the doggy tears that Jim had somehow managed to manufacture.
"You yelled at me."
I tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it came out a semihysterical laugh. "If anyone ever told me that a demon would make me feel guilty about asking it to do the job it was summoned to do, I'd say that person was a grade-A lunatic."
Jim gave me an accusatory look.
I raised my hands in surrender and staggered over to a shady bench to collapse with defeat. "I give up—I just absolutely give up. I asked Drake nicely to give me back my dragon, and he refused. I asked him a few questions, and he gave me the runaround for answers. I summoned up a demon, and I got a demon that's been kicked out of He … Abaddon. Why am I trying anymore? I should just go to Inspector Proust and save him the bother of hunting me down, because he's sure as heck going to lock me up and throw away the key when I can't prove my inno-cence."
Jim sat next to my feet. "You want me to find some balloons for this pity party you're having?"
"Go away," I mumbled, my head in my hands as I tried to work up a few tears of self-pity. They wouldn't come, damn it. "Just go back to wherever it is you came from, and leave me alone."
"I can't leave. You're my master, remember?"
"I'm freeing you."
"Doesn't work that way."
I looked up at the demon. "Oh, right, I have to conduct the release ritual. I can't do it here. You'll just have to wait until I get back to the hotel."
"Whatever. No hurry. I'm enjoying being out. As you can imagine, we demons don't get around much. Last time I was in Paris, they were beheading everyone. Ah, how I miss the good old days."
I sniffled a couple of times, sighed once or twice, and gave up on feeling sorry for myself. I never could do it well. "Well, poop. And no, I didn't mean that as a com-mand."
Jim made a husky sound that I took for laughter. I shook my finger at it. "Don't even think of trying to be nice to me—I can't take it right now."
"Nice?Moi?”
The expression of astonishment on Jim's furry face was so amusing, I couldn't help but giggle. "Right. Let's get down to business, then. If you can't help me find Drake, I'll just have to manage it myself, although how I'm supposed to do that is beyond me at the moment."
