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I tried to find something to say, and couldn't. Dammit. Tired frustration stirred my already unsteady belly. This shouldn't have happened. If I'd been faster, or smarter, or made a better decision, maybe I could have stopped Charity from getting hurt. Or the baby. I put my hand on Michael's shoulder and squeezed tight. Just trying to let him know that I was there. For all the good I'd done.
He took in a breath. "The doctor thinks I beat her. That's how she got the bruises. He never said anything, but ..."
"That's ridiculous," I said, at once. "Stars and stones, Michael, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
His voice came out hard, bitter. He stared at his faint reflection in the glass. "It might as well have been me, Harry. If I hadn't gotten myself involved, this demon wouldn't have gone after her." I heard his knuckles pop as he clenched his fists. "It should have come after me."
"You're right," I said. "Holy hell, Michael, you're right."
He shot me a look. "What are you talking about?"
I rubbed my hands together, trying to sort through the ideas flashing across my brain in neon lights. "It's a demon, this thing we're after, right? It's a demon's ghost." An orderly, walking by pushing a tray, gave me an odd look. I smiled at him, feeling rather manic. He hurried along.
"Yes," Michael said.
"Demons are tough, Michael. They're dangerous and they're scary, but they're really kind of clueless in a lot of ways."
"How so?"
"They just don't get it, about people. They understand things like lust and greed and the desire for power, but they just don't get things like sacrifice and love. It's alien to most of them - doesn't make any sense at all."
"I don't understand what you're driving at."
"Remember what I said, about how I knew the worst way to get to you would be through your family?"
His frown darkened, but he nodded.
"I know that because I'm human. I know what it's like to care about someone other than myself. Demons don't - especially the thug-type demons who make pacts with two-bit sorcerers like Kravos. Even knowing that I thought the best way to get to you would be through someone close to you, I don't think a demon would have understood the context of that information."
"So what you're saying is that this demon would have had no reason to go after my wife and child."
"I'm saying it's inconsistent. If it was just a question of a demon's ghost going after the people who had killed it, then it should have just hammered on us all until we died and been done with it. I don't think it ever would have occurred to it to take a shot at someone that we care about - even if it did have my knowledge about you. There's got to be something else going on here."
Michael's eyes widened a bit. "The Nightmare is a cat's-paw," he said. "Someone else is using it to hit at us."
"Someone who can cast those barbed-wire torment spells," I said. "And we've been chasing around after the tool instead of going after the hand that's wielding it."
"Blood of God," Michael swore. It was about the second most powerful oath he used. "Who could it be?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. Someone who has us both in common, I guess. How many enemies do we share?"
He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, expression intent. "I'm not sure. I've made enemies with pretty much every creature in the country."
"Ditto," I said, morosely. "Even some of the other wizards wouldn't mind seeing me fall down a few flights of stairs. Not knowing our attacker's identity doesn't bother me as much as something else, though."
"What's that?"
"Why he hasn't taken us out already."
"They want to hurt us, first. Vengeance." His brow beetled. "Could your godmother be behind this?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so. She's a faerie. They aren't usually this methodical or organized. And they aren't impatient, either. This thing's been active every night, like it couldn't wait to get going."
Michael looked at me for a moment. Then he said, "Harry, you know that I don't think it's my place to judge another person."
"I hear a 'but' coming."
He nodded. "But how did you get mixed up with the likes of that faerie? She's bad, Harry. Some of them are merely alien, but that one is ... malevolent. She enjoys causing pain."
"Yeah," I said. "I didn't exactly pick her."
"Who did?"
I shrugged. "My mother, I think. She was the one with power. My father wasn't a wizard. Wasn't into their world."
"I don't understand why she would do that to her child."
Something inside me broke with a little snapping sensation, and I felt tears at my eyes. I scowled. They were a child's tears, to go with a child's old pain. "I don't know," I said. "I know that she was mixed up with some bad people. Bad beings. Whatever. Maybe Lea was one of her allies."
"Lea. It's short for Leanandsidhe, isn't it."
"Yeah. I don't know her real name. She takes blood from mortals and gives them inspiration in return. Artists and poets and things. That's how she amassed most of her power."
Michael nodded. "I've heard of her. This bargain you have with her. What is it?"
I shook my head. "It isn't important."
Something shifted in Michael, became harder, more resolute. "It is important to me, Harry. Tell me."
I stared at the babies for a minute, before I said, "I was a kid. Things fell out with my old teacher, Justin. He sent a demon to kill me, and I went on the run. I made a bargain with Lea. Enough power to defeat Justin in exchange for my service to her. My loyalty."
"And you broke faith with her."
"More or less." I shook my head. "She's never pushed it before now, and I've been careful to stay out of her way. She doesn't usually get this involved with mortal business."
Michael moved his hand to Amoracchius's empty scabbard. "She did take the sword though."
I winced. "Yeah. I guess that was my fault. If I hadn't have tried to use it to weasel out of the deal ..."
"You couldn't have known," Michael said.
"I should have," I said. "It isn't as though it was a tough one to figure out."
Michael shrugged, though his expression was less casual than the gesture. "What's done is done. But I don't know how much help to you I can be without the sword."
"We'll get it back," I said. "Leah can't help herself. She makes deals. We'll figure out a way to get it back from her."
