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“Hm. I don’t know either, to be frank.” Doc downed his second glass of absinthe and poured himself a third. “But you don’t have to figure all that out just yet.”
“I don’t?”
“You’ve got some time to figure out what you want to do. Becausefortunately”—he dragged the last word out—“I can’t separate you and the demon anyway.”
She honestly didn’t know if she was relieved or not. “You could’ve started with that, you know.”
“Could have. Didn’t wanna.” He snickered. “This was more fun.” Taking the bottle to go, he headed for the door. Feeling like she was chasing the back end of a runaway train, she followed him. “Let’s go break the news to your angry friend, and then we can settle in for dinner, eh? I’m starving. Oh!” He stopped and turned to face her so suddenly she nearly slammed into him. “Have they invented hamburgers and fries yet?”
“Uh…yes?”
“Fantastic! That’s what we’ll have! Table for five and a dog.” He cackled and then went out the front door, skipping a few steps, whistling the whole way.
“Five? What do you mean, five? There are three of us.” Pressing the heels of her hands into her cheekbones, she let out a low groan. She was now stuck with a demonanda lunatic. “Fuck my life. Seriously.”
Eod barked.
She pointed at him. “Don’t you start too.”
“What?”Grinn roared from outside. “Youliar!”
“Great. Just. Just great.” Gwen wasn’t shocked that the demon didn’t take the news well, but she hadn’t expected him to fly off the handle. Walking outside, she yelped. Grinn had the wizard grasped tight in his hand, holding him off the ground by his neck.
Doc was gagging and kicking uselessly.
Grinn was already ranting. “You will separate us, youuselesspile of dust, or I will dash your brains out all over the cliffs! You—”
“Put him down, asshole.” Gwen stormed up to Grinn and kicked him, rather uselessly she suspected, in the shin. She wasn’t even wearing shoes. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Oh, but he has.” Grinn dropped the wizard all the same. Doc fell the several feet he had been suspended and landed hard on his ass with a grunt. The demon snarled down at the man. “He has wasted my time.”
“Get over yourself for once, will you?” She glared up at the demon.
“I’d listen to her.” Doc coughed, rubbing his throat. “And if you’d give me a second to explain—”
“Talk. Quickly.” Grinn’s lips were peeled back in a silent snarl. “I can still murder you, power or no.”
The sorcerer climbed back to his feet and brushed himself off. Not like it really mattered, he still looked like he had just fallen out of bed. “You went and used demonic magic and didn’t think Avalon’s influence would screw it up? It’s not my fault.”
“I had no choice. I was desperate. Do you think Iwantto be stuck with her?” Grinn was pacing back and forth now along the edge of the wizard’s front lawn, looking like a caged tiger.
“I deeply dislike you,” Gwen said. She felt the need to interject that, not like it would be a surprise to the demon.
“I think she does wonders for your charming personality, honestly,” said Doc. “But! I digress. Here’s the issue, inshort, demon—you two aren’t so much two bowls of spaghetti tangled together—you’re two different bowls of mashed potatoes put together. Or sand. Sand! Let’s use that metaphor instead, eh?”
Grinn was grumbling something about a skull full of moths. Gwen tried not to laugh.
“Picture this. You have two jars of sand. One of you, one of her. You poured them into one bowl, mixed it all up, and you’re asking me to sit there and separate them again with a snap of my fingers. It’s going to take a lot more magic than I have on hand.” The wizard shrugged matter-of-factly. “You’re going to need someone or something with way more power.”
“Is there anyone on Avalon with more magic than you?” Gwen didn’t like the idea of being stuck on the road with Grinn for another who-knew-how-long, but it at least bought her some more time to sort out what she wanted to do.
“Nope!” Doc cackled and held out his arms to his sides. “I’m the best this place has got, kid.”
Grinn was doing that low, feral growl that meant danger.
She knew this was going to get ugly, fast. “Wait. You said something.What did you mean?”
Doc scratched his chin. “Did I? I did. Well, I suppose an artifact of great power could have enough in it to use it almost like a lightning rod. Think about it this way—you can kill someone with your bare hands, right? But killing someone with a hand grenade is a hell of a lot easier. It’s a tool.” He hummed. “It’d probably destroy the object in the process, which is a shame.” He stopped as if he was going to say something else.
