Application: Algaliarept (Kim Harrisons' "Rachel Morgan" series)

[phobophilia]

Algaliarept wasn't typically into the business of traveling long distances - Cincinnati and the Hollows bred more than enough people willing to deal with him - but, he felt, desperate times called for desperate measures. 'Times', in this case, referred specifically to the growing lack of those willing to do deals with demons. They were getting

Comments

[racheltherunner]

I was on my hands and knees at this point. Sounds - whimpers, quiet little moans - being teased from my throat, unbidden, and causing my stomach to knot up with fear and anger. This son of a bitch could go Turn himself.

"Don't ever use her again," I ground out, pulling up my head and meeting his eyes. His eyes, not Ivy's. No brown, no black, only red. This was not Ivy. Even though it looked like her, smelled like her, it was not. "You got it all wrong. Losing your touch."

My skin was damp with a cold sweat and I was literally aching for...something. Anything. For pain, pleasure, whatever came in between. It was a struggle not to beg Al to run his teeth along my scar, to sink them deep into my neck. I watched his hands run over Ivy's body with a hungry kind of desperation.

If he had really been Ivy, I wouldn't have been able to resist.

That thought, that terrifying truth, spurred me into action. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself up. In a voice way more confident than I felt, I spat, "I summon you, Algaliarept. I summon you, and I bind you, you filthy demon bastard. Now turn back into something else."

Oh, I was so screwed.

[phobophilia]

Algaliarept simply smiled down at Rachel as she told him not to look like Ivy; on Ivy's face, the expression was far from pleasant. For all her bluster that he was losing his touch, this form had reduced her to nothing more than a scared little girl, cowering on the floor.

He'd been so involved in relishing her fear, that the demon hadn't expected her to pick herself up and bind him. Fury flew across his expression, the image of Ivy temporarily blurring as he lost his control. It took a moment for him to collect himself, and when he did, he smiled coolly.

"As you wish, Rachel Mariana Morgan," he purred, silently seething. The was simply not dignified at all. But he complied; though he didn't shift back into his newly adopted form. Instead, he went with another favorite, the one he'd used often on Piscary - a visage of the ancient Egyptian God of Funerary Rites, Anubis, tall, human-bodied and jackal-headed.

Serenely, he smiled again. "Now, shall we continue our conversation? I believe we were discussing the deal you've made with another demon - I'm so eager to hear about it."

[racheltherunner]

Deep breaths in filled my lungs as the pressure on my scar faded. Oh, thank the Turn. After a second, I pushed myself shakily back to my feet, running my hand through my hair and finding my composure. "No." Damn it, I'd bound him. He got to play by my rules now. I looked up at him and my eyes narrowed. I remembered that form all too well - it reminded me of being helpless in Piscary's office, dying.

Fun times.

Well, I'd gotten out of that, and I'd find some way of getting out of this one, too. "Jealous, Al? That's not a good look for you."

I needed to get rid of him. Trouble was, if I broke the bonding, saying our business was done, he could just come after me. And, as I suddenly realized with a sick feeling, a circle wouldn't hold him back. I was his freaking familiar. His aura was on me, mine on him. My aura would break the circle. Therefore, Al couldn't be held, not by me.

Oh, that was just great.

Trying to hide the sudden shot of uncertain fear, I raised my chin and glowered at him. "Why are you here?" A question that would probably require some form of payment to answer, but I just needed to keep Al talking for a little while, while I thought of a better plan.

If I thought of a better plan.

God, I'd better think of a better plan. This one sucked.