Shades of Gray

by Katie MacAlister

  “No. Go away,” Gray said curtly.

  “Well!” Nosty said with an injured sniff. “It doesn’t take an anvil to strike me on the head to know when I’m not wanted.”

  “Gray’s a little upset because he doesn’t like Guardians,” Noelle explained.

  “That’s not the slightest bit true!” Gray protested. “Quite the contrary. I approve of Guardians, as a whole. I believe they provide a valuable service. I like, nay, I cherish Guardians and clasp them to the bosom of my . . . er . . . bosom.”

  “I love how he talks,” Noelle told Nosty in a confidential tone. “It’s like watching someone on the telly.”

  “I do not talk like a mortal actor!”

  “It’s all that time he spent on his own,” Nosty agreed, waggling his forefinger in a circle. “Made him a bit squirrel-brained.”

  Gray glared at the ghost, saying with great menace, “Either make yourself useful by finding where Johannes has run off to, or I’ll make sure that you are bound to the privy for the rest of your unnatural life.”

  Nosty’s eyes widened. “I’m more than happy to help you and the charming Noelle, of course. I’ve always prided myself on my helpfulness where it concerns your family. If you recall the time when you had abandoned the Abbey, I was the one who kept up interest in it by appearing at opportune moments to the locals, so I’m quite happy to help now when you need me—”

  “Go find Johannes and bring him back here!” Gray bellowed, pointing dramatically at the front doors, open to allow sunlight to stream into the dusty depths of the hall.

  Noelle eyed him as he turned toward her and strode the few remaining feet to where she stood in the center of the hall. His frown grew at the sight of the circle drawn in the dust on the floor. “You have every appearance of someone who is about to lecture me for doing my job, but I know you won’t do that, because you are aware that I would never tell you how to do your job, and thus, you’d give me the same respect.”

  “Taking care of you is my job!”

  Noelle thought about that for a few seconds. “I’m not sure if that is flattering or annoying. On the one hand, I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, because no one has ever wanted to do that before, and it’s kind of a nice feeling. But on the other hand, I am a Guardian, and handling demons is what I do. I think all things considered, I’m going to stick to being flattered.”

  Gray had taken a deep breath preparatory to what was obviously going to be a pithy response when movement caught his eye. He tilted his head toward Teresa and asked, What is she doing just standing there staring at the wall?

  I tried to mind-push her, but I think all it did was confuse her. She was supposed to leave the room, but my mind pushes have never been what they should be, so she wandered off to the entrance over there and looked really confused by everything. She’ll snap out of it shortly, I imagine. My mind pushes never last.

  It’s neither here nor there to me. What I wish to discuss is the fact that you disregarded my demand that you wait for me to help take care of the demons.

  “Smoke,” Teresa said, looking around with a puzzled expression.

  I sniffed. The hall was still redolent of the demon smoke generated by the banishing of the demons. “As I told you, it’s my job. If you held all Guardians to the bosom of your bosom as you said you do, you should be happy that I’m one and can quite competently perform my job. Do you smell something?”

  “Smoke,” Teresa repeated, right on cue. She passed a hand over her face, rubbing her forehead. “I could have sworn . . .” Her voice trailed off to nothing as she turned toward them.

  “It’s demon smoke, nothing more,” Gray told her before taking Noelle by the arms and giving them a squeeze. “I don’t care one iota that you are a Guardian, except when you put yourself in danger on my behalf—”

  “Smoke,” Teresa said again, this time much more forcefully. “I smell smoke. Noelle, do you—”

  “Fire!” Miles unceremoniously pushed Teresa out of the way and ran into the hall, gesticulating wildly. “The Abbey is on fire! Everyone must leave immediately!”

  “It’s not on fire, that’s simply smoke from . . . erm . . . another source,” Gray told the frantic man, who was trying to shoo them all toward the front door.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, man, the whole place is about to go up in flames,” Miles insisted, shoving Teresa toward the door before turning to Noelle. “It’s as dry as a tinderbox here!”

  “Miles, you’re overreacting to nothing,” Noelle said soothingly, even as she thought at Gray, He really is such a drama queen.

  That’s not all he is.

  Noelle giggled in his mind, about to explain to Miles that the smoke he saw and smelled was nothing more than theatrical smoke, when a dark shape loomed up in the doorway.

  “Where is he?”

  The voice boomed across the hall with the impact of a bulldozer, causing not only the lamps nearest him to shatter but also several pieces of quite pretty crown molding to crumble and fall to the floor with deadened thuds. Gray stiffened for a moment before flinging himself at the man. Noelle, recognizing the aura that surrounded the stranger, yelled a warning and hastily slapped a protection ward on Gray when he reached his target.

  “And just in time, too,” she murmured as she watched Gray go flying across the room, wincing when he slammed into the wall, leaving a Gray-shaped smear as he slowly slid down the wood paneling to the floor. Tell me you’re not going to be prone to throwing yourself at demon lords, because if you are, we’re going to have a very hard life.

  Gray moaned groggily in her mind as she helped him to his feet. Stand back, Noelle. That’s Amaymon, the demon lord who laid the vitiation upon me.

  So I gathered. That doesn’t mean it’s a smart thing for you to lunge at him. Demon lords tend to get snappish about that sort of thing.

  “Where is he?” Amaymon demanded again as he strolled into the room, his aura blackish blue, little tendrils of which sparked with energy. He was a large man, not overly tall but heavily built, with black hair, dark eyes, and an unremarkable face . . . but even so, there was something about him that raised the hairs on Noelle’s arms, warning her that he was the possessor of more power than she would ever wield.

  “He’s here,” Noelle said, standing in front of Gray, her mind calm even if her heart was racing with fear and apprehension. “But if you’re intending on doing something more to him, you should be aware that I’m a Guardian, and his Beloved, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him.”

  Woman! You will cease trying to hide me. I am the Dark One, you are the Beloved. You will hide behind me, where you belong!

  “Seriously?” Noelle asked when Gray tried to shove her behind him. “You’re going to stand by that ‘where you belong’ comment? You wouldn’t like to reconsider it before I have to explain to you the many, many ways that is so incredibly wrong?”

  “What’s a Guardian?” Teresa asked, moving a bit closer to Raleigh, who had been on Miles’s heels. “Is this another of your friends, Noelle?”

  We will discuss the issue later, Beloved. Until then, you will do as I say.

  Noelle snorted in his mind. Gray, I may love you, but that doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly lost all my wits. You’ve indulged in the macho he-man stuff for long enough, so let’s move on to the part of the day where you help me bargain with Amaymon.

  “Hello! Has everyone gone mad? The bloody house is on fire! We have to get everyone out. Now.” Miles started to grab for Noelle, but a glare from Gray had him doing an about-face and more or less hustling Raleigh and Teresa out the door.

  Bargain with him? Are you insane? He’s a demon lord!

  One who no doubt has a price. We just need to find out what that is.

  “You are his Beloved?” Amaymon considered Noelle briefly before narrowing his gaze on Gray. “I know you.”

  “Well, I should hope you do, after all that you’ve done to him. No, it’s all right, Teresa, you and Raleigh a
nd Miles should probably leave the house. We’re just going to have a wee little chat with this . . . erm . . . with Gray’s business acquaintance. Perhaps you should call the fire department while you’re out there?”

  “I don’t like to leave you here,” Teresa said, her face puckered with worry. “Fires can be dangerous in old buildings like this.”

  “We’re fine. We’re just a few steps away from the door, and if we see any sign of a fire, we’ll leave immediately, all right?”

  “I don’t like it, but all right.” Reluctantly, Teresa and Raleigh exited.

  “It’s not all right at all. You stupid woman, what part of ‘the house is on fire and is going to fall down around your dense ears’ escapes you?” Miles asked, storming toward Noelle. “I insist that you leave immediately.”

  “You are Johannes’s son, the one who has drained my valuable resources for the last four hundred years,” Amaymon said, his aura increasing.

  Although Noelle knew that most mundane people couldn’t see auras, they could feel them in close proximity, and when Miles passed the demon lord, a couple of the tendrils of power snaked out to sting him.

  He yelped and leaped to the side, rubbing his arm while exclaiming, “A manifestation! I’ve felt a manifestation right here in the hall! The spirits are clearly restless, and they know the house will soon be destroyed and us with it. We must all leave!”

  “No one is stopping you,” Noelle told him, making shooing gestures. “We’re fine. Although your little freak-out is getting kind of annoying. Isn’t it, Gray?”

  Gray didn’t answer, being involved in a stare-off with Amaymon. “Yes, I am Johannes’s son, the one you vitiated on his behalf.”

  Amaymon looked downright annoyed. “That’s right, it was Johannes who demanded I do that. Peste! I knew he was trouble. I should have killed him when I had the chance. Instead, I gave in to his pleas to allow his potential the opportunity to ripen, and look how that ended. It cost me four hundred years of squandering resources by sending countless minions to track your movements, and for what purpose? It’s all very irritating.”

  “If anyone has the right to be irritated, it’s me,” Gray protested. “I’m the one who has had to be on the run for all that time lest your minions find me. The blame for any squandering lies squarely on your head, thank you very much.”

  “You could have stopped it at any time by simply staying in one place,” Amaymon answered.

  “And let your minions hack off my head? I think not.”

  “They had much more important things to do than to give in to a pleasure trip. You, female, summon your Dark One,” Amaymon told Noelle. “I would have my jeton returned to me.”

  Noelle glanced at Gray. Er . . . what was that about the minions having more important things to do?

  I don’t know, but he obviously thinks you are Johannes’s Beloved, not mine. Gray’s mind was forming and discarding all sorts of speculations. “Noelle is my Beloved, not my father’s. As for this jeton you speak of, I have no knowledge of it.”

  What’s a jeton?

  I haven’t the slightest idea.

  “What exactly is a jeton?” Noelle asked Amaymon before leaning into Gray and pinching his side. You’re immortal and have lived a long time. You’re supposed to know archaic things like that.

  I do not have the memory of an elephant, Noelle. I do occasionally forget things, especially if it’s something I have no reason to recall for four hundred years.

  “Fine, we’ll all just stand here chatting while we burn to death,” Miles said, throwing himself into a chair, coughing at the resultant cloud of dust. He waved casually toward the hallway leading off the main room. “I’ll let you all know when I see actual flames, shall I?”

  “Who is Johannes’s Beloved?” Amaymon asked, ignoring both Noelle’s question and Miles.

  “He doesn’t have one.”

  Amaymon’s eyes narrowed on Gray. “There was a woman, a mortal—”

  “My mother. She died when he did.”

  The demon lord’s mouth tightened. “It matters not. Summon him to my presence.”

  “I like you,” Miles told Amaymon in a chatty tone. “You know how to deal with people. I’m going to have to use that line. Assuming we survive the fire that is even now bearing down on us, of course.”

  Gray?

  If you’re going to ask me if I’m thinking of handing over my father to Amaymon, the answer is, you’re damned right I am.

  Actually, I was going to ask if you thought we could use this jeton, whatever it is, to bargain with.

  Gray stopped dwelling, with much enjoyment, on the act of handing Johannes over to Amaymon and mulled that thought over. You mean, to lift the vitiation?

  Yes. He seems to want it quite badly. I mean, demon lords don’t come into the mortal plain very often, since it costs them so much power to do so and leaves their legions vulnerable in Abaddon. So for Amaymon to come to see us himself says that this whatever-it-is that your father has is something he very much wants.

  “What does the jeton look like?” Gray asked, crossing his arms over his chest and donning a nonchalant expression.

  “Bring Johannes,” Amaymon demanded again.

  “If you tell us what the jeton is, perhaps we can find it without bothering to track down Johannes. Not that I’d mind bringing him to have a chat with you, because that would be something I’d likely enjoy greatly, but time is of the essence.”

  “It is a valuable token of my power! It needs no description!”

  “Valuable, hmm?” Noelle turned to Gray. “Could it be hidden in the priest’s hole?”

  “What?” Miles suddenly sat up straight in his chair. “What . . . uh . . . priest hole?”

  “There’s one here, behind the fireplace,” Noelle answered him, gesturing toward the far wall. “Could it be there, Gray?”

  “There’s nothing there but a few things of little value to anyone but family,” Gray answered, shaking his head.

  “Why don’t we go look? Maybe it’s there.” Noelle started to cross the hall but stopped short when Miles leaped from his chair, a shiny black gun in his hand.

  “Right, I’ve had enough of this farce. I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but if he thinks he’s getting my treasure, he’s barking mad. You, you say you know where the priest hole is? Go open it.”

  “Oh, Miles, now is not the time for this,” Noelle told him, exasperated that he had chosen this moment to continue his ridiculous treasure hunt.

  “Do it,” Miles told Gray, leveling the gun at Noelle. “Or I shoot her.”

  “That will serve no purpose,” Gray said in a calm, apparently unconcerned voice.

  Noelle knew otherwise. She could feel the anger in him at Miles’s daring to turn a firearm upon her.

  It’s all right. He can’t kill me, can he?

  No. The Joining may not be wholly complete, but you are enough of my Beloved that a simple gunshot would do little to harm you.

  Then stop thinking about stringing him up by his testicles and stay focused on the important matter at hand.

  But I’m enjoying thinking about stringing him up by his nuts.

  I know you are, and I admit, it is a tempting thought, but he’s really nothing more than greedy and irritating and thus not really deserving of testicle-hanging.

  You have no sense of adventure, Gray told her sternly, which just made her giggle at him. He strode over to the fireplace, pressing on a few ornate wooden wolf’s heads that lined the mantel, gesturing when the panel alongside the fireplace slid back to reveal a darkened hole.

  “Step back,” Miles ordered, gesturing toward Noelle with the gun. “All the way across the room.”

  “You seem to forget who owns this house,” Gray answered. “This is my priest’s hole, and anything in it—not that there is anything—is mine.”

  “Take one more step toward it, and I’ll shoot,” Miles warned, turning the gun on him.

  He really is such a drama quee
n, Noelle told Gray. I hate to admit it, but he’s absolutely perfect for Teresa’s show.

  “That would be unwise in the extreme,” Gray said, and stepped into the darkened hole.

  Noelle knew the second before Miles pulled the trigger that he was going to shoot Gray, and despite the fact that she knew the shot would not kill him, despite all of her training, despite everything she’d ever learned while working with members of the Otherworld, a primitive part of her brain had her rushing forward to stop the attack.

  “No!” she screamed, and flung herself on Miles, her eyes widening in shock when a burning pain seared through her side.

  Gray roared her name as the world seemed to spin around her, her legs suddenly feeling as if they were made of tofu.

  He shot me, she told Gray, even as she was whisked off her feet. He really shot me. Oh! You have your soul back! How nice. I think I’m going to faint. Do you mind?

  Not at all, he answered, and, happy despite the burning sensation that seemed to sweep over her entire body, she smiled as she gave in to the swoon.

  Chapter Eight

  Are you sure you’re all right now?”

  “Absolutely. It was just the shock of actually being shot. But I’m fine now. You can untie Miles. He doesn’t look very comfortable with that rope tied around his feet and neck. His face is bright red.”

  “He’ll survive,” Gray said, his face filled with grim satisfaction when he glanced at the man who lay bound at her feet. He rose and helped Noelle from her chair.

  “If this little comedy is concluded?” Amaymon asked politely, but it was politeness edged with razor sharpness. “Bring me the jeton.”

  Gray met her gaze and then, with a little shrug, reentered the priest’s hole, emerging a few seconds later covered in cobwebs but empty-handed.

  “It’s not there.” He turned to Amaymon. “What does the jeton look like?”

  Amaymon’s jaw worked for a few seconds before he answered. “It is a small disc, about the size of a human fingernail, made of gold, and stamped on either side with my symbol of power.”

  Noelle drew in a deep breath. The collar tag! He’s talking about Johannes’s collar tag.