For Jen, who brings me great books.
The door is alarmed.
Jilla could feel the waves of apprehension, and she froze, all other senses on alert. She crouched, and invoked a faint masking spell, nothing too strong in case whoever was inside could sense magic. Her little house looked normal enough, the curtains drawn, the gate closed, but the protection spells were telling a different story.
Jilla crept around the back of the house, and let herself in the kitchen door. Inside it was dim and quiet, and it took great effort to breathe slowly and evenly. A faint thump from the sitting room made her jump, and them a voice came.
“Jilla, you need to clean more frequently.”
Jilla forced back a groan. What was he doing here?”
“You can come out now.”
Jilla seriously considered sneaking back out, and moving to the next town over. She briefly considered the fact that it seemed a little extreme, then considered who was in her house. Gritting her teeth, she walked around the corner.
The man sitting on her sofa was handsome, with dark hair, and blue eyes that sparkled with subtle humor. He wore old-fashioned clothes, a grey vest over a white shirt with flared sleeves, and dark trousers. His hat was on the coffee table.
“Jilla,” he smiled. “It’s so good to see you.”
She glared at him.
“What, no hi, how have you been?” he asked, and smiled.
“I don’t care how you’ve been,” she said. “What are you doing in my house?” she frowned. “And how did you get in anyway?”
He held out his hand. In it was a tarnished bronze key.
“Why do you have a Master Key?” Jilla demanded. “And what gives you the right to use it to come in to my house without my permission?”
“You didn’t answer my letters,” he said.
“You didn’t write any letters,” Jilla said. “What did they say?”
“I said I was sorry,” he told her. “Multiple times.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.
“Doesn’t matter if you’re sorry or not. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Okay, so maybe being sorry doesn’t change anything, but the other thing I came to tell you will,” he said.
She froze. She didn’t know if she wanted the past to change. It wasn’t great, but at least she knew what it was, and knew how she felt about it. If it changed, then she didn’t know if she could be angry about it. She turned to face him.
“Jaz,” she began. “What happened, it should just stay in the past. Brining it up again, it will just make it worse.”
“But what if it’s already been brought up, not by me, by someone else,” he hurried to clarify. “Please, just hear me out.”
She sighed. “I’ll go make some tea.”
“Great!” Jaz sighed. “Do you have any of those orange biscuits?”
Jilla came back with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.
“Sorry, not the orange ones. These ones are vanilla. I like them.”
Jaz took one and ate it in two bites. “Good. I like them.”
Jilla poured tea and sat across from him. “So?”
“Right,” Jaz said, and scooted forward on the sofa, holding his hands out in preparation for animated gesturing. “Guess who showed up out of the blue about a month ago? Harry. You remember Harry?”
Jill nodded. Of course she remembered Harry. He was the one who brought back the damned thing in the first place. He was also the one who lost it, and started the whole mess rolling.
“Well, Harry told me that he’d had word of the location of it.”
“Well, why didn’t he go get it?” Jilla said.
“He did, but it wasn’t there.”
“Oh.” Jilla frowned. “Why did he come to you?”
“I don’t know. He was going to tell me, but before he could, he disappeared.” Jaz looked at her, eyebrows raised expectantly. “He disappeared! In a cloud of blue smoke!”
“Oh gods!” Jilla groaned, and buried her hand in her hands. “He gave away his soul. Why did he do that?”
“I think he needed information,” Jaz said. “That’s the most logical thing I can think of.”
“And you want to get involved again?” Jilla said. “It was a bad idea when there weren’t demons involved. Especially demons who have claim on Harry’s soul.”
“Well, I think we have some responsibility for Harry,” Jaz said, without looking at Jilla.
“Maybe you feel that way, but I don’t,” Jilla replied without hesitation. “Harry got himself into this mess, and then dug himself in even deep when he went and gave away his soul.” Jilla shook her head. Sometimes people can be so stupid! she fumed to herself. Had Harry given even half a thought to the consequences of his actions?
“But you can see where this is going?” Jaz pressed. “If a demon has his soul, and that thing has popped up again? Trouble of epic proportion is about to descend.”
“Do you really feel that much better about yourself when you propound with such ominous certainty?” Jilla asked, her eyebrow raised.
“Jilla, come on,” Jaz pleaded. “I can’t do this by myself.”
She sighed, and silently asked her tea what she should do. Harry had been a friend, at one time. So had Jaz. More than a friend, a little voice reminded her. That was a long time ago, she argued back.
“For old times sake?” Jaz tried again, almost as if he could read her mind.
She looked around her sitting room. She had built a comfortable life for herself here. It was cozy, and it had nothing in it to remind her of her unwelcome past. Nothing except Jaz, that is. And the only way to get rid of him – aside from killing him – was to help him out.
“I’ll help you find the demon with the claim to Harry’s soul,” Jilla said at last, looking up to meet Jaz’s intense gaze. “But that’s it. After that you’re on your own.”
For a second Jaz looked like he was about to argue, but then he smiled and nodded. Jilla looked away. His smile always set fluttering off in her stomach, which was very distracting.
“Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner we can get this over with,” Jilla said.
It took about five minutes to gather her traveling supplies, and then she was walking out the door. She paused, and then with a wave of her hand, she banished the warning spell. No sense have the whole house alert to danger when she wasn’t even here.