Page 66 of Demon's Bluff

“Demons,” Elyse said, and I stifled a wince. “We’re trying to be demons.”

“In spelling robes?” Sylvia asked.

“It’s to scare someone,” I blurted, thinking fast. “My roommate has been dabbling, and I’m hoping if we give her a good scare that she will knock that shit out.”

“Oh.” Sylvia sipped her coffee, not moving. “Then you will want a gender flip and red eyes. There are no female demons.”

“No, this will work.” I studied my reflection next to Elyse’s. The young woman was cocky and sure of herself, but I clearly was in charge. “This will do nicely.”

Sylvia’s breath hesitated, her words unsaid as a knock came at the door.

“Sylvia? There’s a man from the coven to see you?” Laura said, and I fought to keep my expression from changing.

The older woman took a slow, sedate sip of her coffee and then set the cup down. “Could you excuse me? I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Sure,” I practically whispered, my gaze darting over the room.

I didn’t move until Sylvia had walked out and closed the door.

“Everything off.” I undid the sash, bells chiming as I spun the silk into a roll around my hand and then pushed it off.

“It’s Scott.” Angry, Elyse stepped down from the stage and tossed her hat to the table. “It’s got to be. He was at the I.S., and now here? How, by the Turn, is he following me?”

“Let’s go. We have five minutes.” I slipped out of the beautiful silk, and Elyse stared at me as if I was stupid.

“Five minutes?”

“That’s what Sylvia said.” I carefully folded the robe and tucked it in the hat. The scarf was next, and then I jammed the hat in my bag.

“You think…” Elyse glanced at the door, a hint of hope lighting through her. “Why would she give us a five-minute head start?”

“Because we gave her a brand-new authentic look,” I said, impatient. “Didn’t you see her fondling those sleeve ties of yours?”

“Yes, but these must cost a fortune.”

I smiled as I went to the rack of robes and properly tied the sleeve of one. “Her reputation is priceless,” I whispered.As is mine.“Move. Robe off. Put it in your hat with your sash. We’ll figure out how he tracked us here on the way to the university ley line.”

Elyse went to the door and cracked it, her shoulders tensing when Scott’s pleasant voice filtered in, rising and falling against Sylvia’s light banter.

I frowned at the clothes rack and the four pairs of slippers waiting for our approval. I didn’t actually know if the clothes were included in Sylvia’s “five minutes” comment, and a flash of guilt hit me. Grabbing a pen, I wrote a quick note.I’ll return them in a few days smelling authentic.And if I didn’t, I’d be dead, so feeling guilty wasn’t going to change anything.

“Son of a bitch, she’s telling him we’re here,” Elyse hissed.

“She’s not going to risk Alcatraz for us.” I snatched up Elyse’s hat and stuffed it into my bag. I left the slippers, feeling as if it would overstepSylvia’s offer. The coffee I had no qualms about, slamming half my mug before joining Elyse at the door. She’d finally taken off her robe and sash, and I jammed them into my bag as well.

“You first,” I said, wanting to put myself between her and Scott. I could do magic. Elyse could not. “Out and to the left. There’s got to be a rear delivery door.”

Shoulders square, Elyse boldly walked into the hall. I was right behind her, whispering a word of Latin to lock the door. Energy lit through my aura, and my fingers tingled as the spell took hold. It was only a hint, but Scott must have felt it as both his and Sylvia’s voices grew louder. She was trying to stop him from pushing past her. He was good. I was better.

“Hey! You!” Scott called, and Elyse and I bolted, the young woman stiff-arming the swinging door to the back and vanishing.

I followed, and together we jogged through the small break room and into the larger, dimly lit storage area. Racks stretched to the ceiling, filling the entire length of the building.

“Go, go, go!” I shouted. Scott was thumping in behind us, and Laura’s complaint rose high.

“I just want to talk!” Scott said.

“Left!” I gave Elyse a shove toward the scent of cold concrete and spent gas. They had to have a loading dock. If we could make that, we might have a chance. My bag wasn’t heavy, but it was awkward, bumping into the racks as we ran for the far side of the huge room, dodging left every time an opening showed.