Free Demon's Quest by Connie Suttle Page A

High Demon. Ra'Ak held no power against a High Demon. I'd already killed several. They wouldn't wait to see whether I intended harm or not. That was a given. "I only found seven children alive," I added.
    "Thank you for your help," she said.
    "Tell Plovel to get in touch via comp-vid—he has my code," I said, and skipped away.
    There wasn't any need to go back to the inn—I figured Neidles had already sold my belongings for what they might fetch, the rat-faced asshole. I skipped straight to Beliphar instead.
    * * *
    "Where are her belongings?" Gavril gripped Neidles's shirt in his fingers. He and the others had arrived at the blasted playground in time to see Reah disappear. Gavril and Lendill had both cursed, long and hard, while Astralan and Stellan rounded up frightened children and turned them over to the authorities. Gavril knew by scent alone that the Strands were in league with Ra'Ak. Lendill was on his comp-vid immediately, putting up bulletins across the Alliance regarding the dangers they might be facing. Gavril was placing compulsion on Neidles again, to learn what he could about Reah and to get her things back.
    "I have her things," Neidles voice was flat.
    "You will give them to me." They followed Neidles to his suite, where all of Reah's clothing and such had been gathered. The two warlocks lifted the bag and boxes. "If you ever bother Reah again, I'll kill you," Gavril promised, before nodding to Astralan, who folded all of them to Campiaa.
    * * *
    I slept for the better part of three days. I had no idea how tired I really was. Meals were the only thing I climbed out of bed for—nothing else gathered my attention. On the morning of the fourth day, Nefrigar was sitting on the side of my bed when I woke.
    "Hello, honey blue," I rubbed my eyes to bring him into focus. He smiled. "Are you acting as my agent?" I asked. "You show up every time I don't have anything else to do."
    "Is that what an agent does?" He stood when I slipped off the bed and followed me into the kitchen.
    "They find work for their clients," I nodded, putting the kettle on for tea. "But they usually take a percentage. Well, even if you did, the percentage wouldn't be much, Neidles didn't pay a fair wage." I put tea in the pot while waiting for the water to heat.
    "I have no need of wealth or currency." He leaned against the counter and watched me work. I sliced bread and placed it under the broiler. Toast sounded just as good as anything else for breakfast. Food was running out—I would have to restock the kitchen.
    "What do you need?" I looked up at him.
    "Something that keeps my interest," he was smiling again.
    "Ah. I'm the new toy."
    "Toy?"
    "Something to play with."
    "That sounds as if you believe I might lose interest, or use you for frivolous reasons."
    "Yeah. I guess that's right," I sighed, pulling my toast out of the oven.
    "Little one, I do not believe that will happen. I came to tell you that a position opened up on Tulgalan in a new restaurant. They are searching for an Eight-Day cook. This might be a good position to hold while you search for the ones who fled Bardelus."
    He could be right—an Eight-Day cook was the cook who worked one day per Tulgalanian week, so the others could have the day off. At times, Eight-Day cooks had specific specialties they served for the midday and evening meals—Tulgalani loved to take their families out to eat on Eight-Day. With seven days left to hunt the filth feeding off children, it could be an ideal situation. "It pays well," Nefrigar added.
    "It'll have to—I'll be forced to rent something to stay there."
    "You will do fine," Nefrigar waited until I finished my meager breakfast before folding me to Targis.
    * * *
    Using one of my credit chips, I rented a cube. The cube was actually a rectangle—most of them were, but the slang term was used all the time. My apartment was only one room, with a tiny kitchen on one end, a bed on the other, with a microscopic sitting area in