By the time I finished, Adelaide’s weathered brown skin had taken on a sickly pallor. Her white eyes were wide and round, and I could feel her sensing me again, as if trying to discern whether I spoke the truth. I had no way of knowing if she possessed that sort of power, but part of me hoped she did.
“I know there hasn’t been a demon sighting in decades and that it sounds . . . improbable,” I finished. “But I just thought that you should know.”
Adelaide pressed her lips together and nodded once, though that haunted expression did not fade.
“What does this mean?” Imogen asked quietly.
The old witch drew in a shaky breath, and for a moment I feared she’d had a stroke.
It was a long time before her expression cleared. Adelaide set her tea on the table beside her, the cup rattling in its saucer. “If what you say is true . . . that there are demons in the Quarter . . .” She paused, and a far-off look came into her eyes. “Then what we have feared for many years has finally come to pass.”
Imogen swallowed. “Do you think they slipped in from a tear in the veil?”
Adelaide shook her head. “Not a natural tear, no,” she said slowly. “Our sisters patrol the Quarter to find any placewhere the veil has been weakened. They weave wards over any weak points and reinforce them regularly to ensure nothing from the Otherworld can pass into ours.”
“Then what —”
Adelaide cut her off with a sharp look. “If there are demons in our world, it means that someone has been working to collapse our wards from the other side.”
Chapter
Seven
Adelaide’s words were still ringing in my ears as I drove out to the fairgrounds. I’d dropped Imogen off at her apartment — partly so she could get some sleep, and partly because I had no idea what I might encounter.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the look of horror in Adelaide’s eyes when I’d told her about the demons. If someone was indeed working to destroy the protective wards the witches used to bolster the veil between realms, it had to be something that dwelled in the Otherworld — the realm of demons and faeries.
I shuddered as I parked the car, remembering how it had felt when that higher demon had invaded my mind. I’d been helpless — completely at his mercy. Had those demons managed to destroy the wards and slip through the veil? And if so, how many more of them were out there?
The scent of sweaty human bodies pressed in around me as I got out of Imogen’s car. The dirt parking lot was littered with trash, and the sound of drunken laughter andslamming car doors had my hands inching toward my nonexistent weapons.
I’d left my holster in the car, concealing a few slim daggers and the witchwood blade in the pockets of my jacket. I felt naked without my other weapons, but I couldn’t very well walk into a crowd of people armed to the teeth as I usually was.
Magic nipped unpleasantly at my skin as I followed the throng of spectators toward the huge black-and-purple tent that stood at the opposite edge of the field. Enchanted lights bobbed against the dark night sky, buffeted by the wind. The mortal voices around me swelled.
Gods, humans were always so loud and oblivious. With my superior hunter hearing, I’d had to train myself to tune them out, but tonight I allowed myself to follow bits of conversation, if only to soothe my own frayed nerves.
The buzz of fae magic grew stronger as I approached the entrance to the tent. It had a more distinctive bite than Imogen’s magic and left every inch of my skin feeling unpleasantly raw.
A female faerie wearing a plum velvet coat and oversized top hat greeted the crowd of spectators ahead of me. She’d dropped her glamour as part of the experience, which would have made her easy to identify as fae even if Ihadn’tbeen able to feel her magic.
Enormous violet eyes tracked the mortals as if they were particularly delicious prey, and her fish-like lips puckered in what might have passed for a smile. Her blue-tinged skin was dusted with gold glitter, and as the crowd reached the tent flap, she doffed her hat and sketched a low bow.
The mortals gawked openly before dropping their money into the faerie’s drawstring purse. The fae ripped offtickets and doled them out to the humans, and a few of them seemed to hesitate before stepping inside the tent.
“Are you the Ringmaster?” I asked the faerie, pressing my palms against my thighs so I didn’t reach for my weapons.
Her huge purple eyes narrowed as she regarded me, her gaze drifting toward my ribcage and hovering there, as if she could see the daggers I’d concealed under my jacket.
Maybe she could. The fae were often gifted with unusual powers, and many of them kept those abilities hidden to maintain an extra advantage. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this one could see through solid objects or sense the cold iron in my blades.
Finally, she met my gaze, and her mouth twisted in a cruel smirk. “When you see the Ringmaster, you won’t have to ask.”
O-kay.
I tried not to roll my eyes as I followed the mortals into the tent. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting. It was impossible to get a straight answer from the fae.
The second I entered the big top, the scent of hay, manure, popcorn, and hundreds of bodies packed into a small space hit me.
