Happy (early) Halloween.

[Luminara]

Jenna glanced surreptitiously at the man across the table.  He was swirling the amber liquid around in his glass, watching as it flowed and swirled, occasionally pausing to sniff and flicker his eyes delightedly at the scent.  He gave every appearance of truly enjoying his drink, in every way, and struck her as putting on a most elaborate performance.  This was how she got by in the world, reading people, and what she read from this one had the hair on the nape of her neck standing on end.  He was just a little too disinterested, too casual in his disregard of her, never quite displaying any real distraction to convince her.  No easy mark, this one, he was playing the same con game she was.   Others with half her skill and experience would walk away from the deal as quickly as they could... but that was why she was better.  She was the best.  And this chump, he'd lose, just like everyone else who sat where he was now.

 

"Do you really expect me to believe this... thing works?" Jenna asked, slipping a hint of boredom into her voice.  "Come on, I'm not stupid."

"It works," he replied, peering at her through his glass of scotch.  "You've heard of Desdemona, haven't you?  Infernal?  Did you honestly believe they control demons with chants and chalk art?  This," he tapped the shard of crystal, "is how they do it.  This little piece of their home, they're drawn to it, and the person who controls it, controls them."

"It's never that simple.  I've seen crap like this on the black market, there's always a catch.  People buy stuff like this and turn into giant slime monsters, or the things they think they're controlling turn out to be sizing them up for lunch, or they have to sacrifice kittens or something to make it work."

"Do I look like a slime monster?  Do you see blood on this?" he held the shard up, allowing the light to catch it from various angles.  "Look," he pointed at one of the twisted creatures sitting in the corner near the bar.  Jenna stared at its eyeless face as it shambled over, somehow certain it was looking at her and, oddly, that it was almost pleading with her.  "Open your mouth, little one," he said, and stuck his fingers into the toothed maw.  She saw blood welling up from the pricks of the creature's teeth as he carelessly brushed his knuckles over them.  The entire time, the little monstrosity seemed to shy away, not driven into the frenzy she'd expected.

"Okay, so it works and it's not immediately or obviously fatal to the user.  Still doesn't explain why you're selling it."
"I'm settling down.  Raising a family."  He waved the creature away.  "I've got no use for this now.  I'm ready to let it go and provide a good life for my children."

"And what is it I'd be paying for it?" Jenna couldn't keep the skepticism out of her voice.

He shrugged.  "Not much.  Your word."
"My word... what?  That I'll use it for 'good and noble' causes?"
Again, he shrugged.  "Whatever."
 

She managed to keep herself from smirking, but only just.  She'd been prepared to pay handsomely, and sweeten the pot with an offer of a roll in the sack, a tactic she'd used to cut the price in half more times than she cared to remember, but this fool was apparently giving his trinket away.  Whether she kept it for herself or fenced it, she was practically guaranteed a fortune.  She donned her most serious and thoughtful expression, gazing into the crystal, as she let him believe she was trying to reach a decision.

 

"Okay," she finally said, "you have a deal."
"Your word?"

"Given."  She stretched out her hand and shook, sealing the bargain.

 

Her eyes on the crystal, she didn't notice that the man had gestured to the piteous, eyeless demon.  When it finally arrived at the table, she looked up and was about to tell him, and it, to go away, when he pointed to her and leaned close to it.

"Manners," he whispered in the gnarled ear.

The needle-toothed mouth opened, gnashing on the air, then an oddly familiar sound emerged from the mouth.  It took her a moment to place it, and she was so focused on it that what was said didn't sink in immediately.

 

"Thank you for your word."

 

That was her voice.

 

Her word.  He hadn't wanted a promise, he'd wanted her word.  Her words.  Her voice.

The man reached down and picked up his daughter, listening to her chatter excitedly in the woman's velvety voice.  He'd have to find some eyes, next.  She'd enjoy that, being able to see.

 

A terrified, unintelligible wail drifted out of the bar as he meandered away.

[Glacier Peak]

Goosebumps!