one talon of a thumbnail and made a slicing action,
snorted and stamped her foot. A fine tremor ran through the floorboards and the carpetsuddenly gave
off a singed smell. Sorcha hummed a little tune to herself, chuckling, 'What demon would ever want to do
that? In fact, what living being of any soul at all? Hah!'
'So, it's rare,' Lila said.
'Far as I know, sugar, he's the only one,' Sorcha said. 'Only one with any brains at all but that don't
mean he has many.' She sighed . 'I'm so into him . Isn't he great?' After this point Lila was only there to
listen, as Sorcha didn't seem to need responses and had no intention of returning to their subject . 'I love
Mode-X . So dark and bad. So funky. I might do some of it myself . Hey what is taking you so long,
Legolas? Is all this stuff going with you?' Sorcha gestured at the room's furnishings.
'None of it's mine,' Zal said, placing some worn-looking clothes into a carryall. 'Except the painting.'
'Oh, Titia gave you that? Hah. Pity she's a faery.' Sorcha paused and confided to Lila, 'Elves put
faeries to sleep in close contact. It's the aura thing, y'know?' Then she continued to Zal, 'And all your girls
here the same, it's like a freakin' nunnery . Are you getting rootsy for Alfheim now you've left home?
Going puritan on me?' She kept darting little glances atLila as she spoke, full of mischief . That was in
between the time she spent opening drawers and sniffing around the room, trailing her perfectly
manicured fingers along the surfaces, restlessly moving . Finally, she seemed contented and curled up like
a catin the middle of the bed.
Zal ignored her with filial contempt and went into the long, walk-in dressing room, closing the doors
after himself.
Sorcha instantly turned to Lila, rolling over onto her stomach . "There's a Game between you two, isn't
there?' Her hair waved around her face in tendrils of living fire thatwas only prevented from burning the
house down by careful enchantments.
Lila refused to confirm or deny it. She was trying to retain a professional detachment with which she
could vaguely impress Sorcha, but it was a pointless effort since demons were known for their affinity to
wild magic. They couldn't control it any more than anybody else, but they could sense and read it with
unmatched aplomb.
Sorcha's grin of delightintensified, 'Oh, my, you have it bad! What is it?'
Lila shrugged, suitably ignorant for a human.
'Ah, you don't know yet. Want me to find out for you?' Sorcha's long, pointed tongue was out, licking
her glossy lips in anticipation . 'Go on, before he comes back. It might give you an advantage. I'm really
good at these things. Quick, give me something of yours.' She bounced across the bed to Lila and held
her hand out.
Although Lila could think of a hundred reasons why not, she found Sorcha's enthusiasm and personal
charisma impossible to withstand. Worse than an elvish glamour. And her care for Zal was indisputable,
oddly, for demons and elves generally were well known as having no time for one another. So, despite
her misgivings, Lila found herself opening a zipper on her jacket.
Sorcha was dancing with excitement as Lila handed her a flechette round from her pocket. T like you
so much!' she exclaimed, turning the bullet over in her fingers. 'Personal weapons of grisly death! And
now something of Zal's. Oh!' She leaptover and touched the round to the painting and hummed a note.
A faint werelight grew between the two objects. As it strengthened into wavelengths even Lila could see
Sorcha gently moved the round away from the picture frame. A fragile skein of near invisible tendrils
stretched out in the air between, and the spider's web of lines briefly moved into letters of the demonic
language before they vanished.
'Aaah!' Sorcha squealed. 'Zal you bad, bad dog!' To Lila she turned around and gathered herself and
came and satdown, pulling Lila close to her. Her red eyes zipped with glee. 'Girl, didn't
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham