Neon Blue by E Frost (best big ereader .TXT) 📕

taking it in as he continues to navigate through the thickening traffic. “Can you see it with your third eye, sweetness?” he asks.

“Uh-huh. Bunch of bones bound with silver wire.”

“Yeah. Just so you know.”

“I know.” It’s creepy, but I’ve dealt with creepy things before. Modern witches don’t use eye of newt or toe of frog, but between six years of biology at Wydlins and Bevvy and my Divination practicals, I’ve handled plenty of dead things. Then there was that freaking mobile of Ro’s that was made of crow bones. It was supposed to help with memorization. I endured a year of that thing hanging over our paired desks before I asked her to move it into her own room. “Can you see the warping of the aether?”

“Mmm, not like you can. My way of seein’ a little different than yours. But I can see it through your eyes. Like a rainbow at each end. T’me, it looks like the air around the pointy end keeps shufflin’, like a deck of cards.”

Interesting. I wish I could see that. “Jou, you said the binding goes both ways. Could I see through your eyes? I mean, just this once?”

He slants a dark glance at me. “You’d have to be inside my head.”

“Is that bad?” I ask warily.

“Lotta things in there you might not like. Anything I happen to remember at the time, you’ll feel. Either like a memory or like it’s happenin’ to you now, depending on how deep you go. An’ you’d have to be pretty deep to see through my eyes. Sure you’re ready for that?”

I think for a moment, then shake my head. His home was overwhelming, and I have a feeling that it was really tame compared to the rest of Hell. To say nothing of what he’s suffered at the hands of humans and his father over the years. “Um, I guess I’ll live without. So when it looks like it’s shuffling, can you see any images or just movement?”

“Some images.” He gives it another glance. “Fragments. There’s a clear one. A street, looks like one of your cities. Maybe it’s been in a war or somethin’. Everything’s broken.”

“I think I’ve seen that. I looked through the ischium at the Old South Meetinghouse and that’s what I saw. Everything decaying, blown about in the wind. I think . . . I think that’s time, Jou. I think I’m looking into the future.”

“That ain’t good.”

I can’t tell if he’s referring to Boston’s future, or just the key’s ability to open a door in time. “I know that messing with time is dangerous.”

“Too fucking right. Used to be some Noctils who could reach through time. Look what happened to them.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What happened to them?”

“They’re all gone. Time protects itself with extreme prejudice. Do not go opening doors in time.”

I nod. If there was one thing that was drilled into us at Bevvy, it was do not fuck with time. “There’s a . . . well, it’s kind of a book, at the Museum that describes how to use the key. I was reading it today. There’s nothing about opening doors in time. Just to other places. Other planes, I think. There’s this repeating image in the, um, book. It’s a tree. I think it could be the World Tree. You know, Yggdrasil? Uh, do you know anything about the Norse myths?”

“Yeah, I remember the Norsemen. For the record, they stank, too. More like goats than pigs, though.”

I laugh a little. “Was there anyone who didn’t?”

“Japanese. Cleaner than a shaved cat. Hoshi-san bathed three times a day, and after anythin’ that got her sweaty. Fuck, she bathed me three times a day.”

“That is extremely clean.” Much too clean for me. I don’t even shower every day as a rule. Strips the natural oils. “So if this key is a way to open the portals of the World Tree, maybe I’m looking up the branches into the future, instead of across them into other places.”

“Makes sense,” he grunts. “Gotta hand it to you, sweetness. You know your stuff.”

Good to know those four years at Bevvy were good for something. “The Vikings believed the World Tree touched every plane of existence. Midgard, Asgard, Hel, everywhere. So—” I lift the key and look at the demon through the ischium. “Maybe I can see your plane.”

“No—” the demon says, but it’s too late.

I drop the key into my lap, and try to process what I’ve seen.

It was Jou, but not the way I usually see him. He was towering, terrifying. Ten feet tall, his dreadlocks writhing around his face like snakes. His horns scraped the sky, blazing with blue fire, their ebony curves crawling with burning glyphs. His eyes dripped flame; smoke billowed from his nose and mouth. A pair of massive, crimson wings extended above his shoulders and his lashing tail scraped embers from the trailing feathers. His erection was bigger than my arm, and a fanged, screaming mouth gaped at the tip.

I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to block out that image. But once I’ve Seen something, it’s hard to unsee.

The car stops and I open my eyes, thinking he’s pulled over again. But we’re at my house, parked neatly on the drive. Jou slides out, comes around the car and opens my door. Kneels beside me. He cups my face in his hands and rubs his thumbs over my eyelids.

“Lemme take that from you. That ain’t what I look like, not ever. I’m not sure what it showed you, but you don’t need to see that.”

I shake my head ruefully. He can run around in my head, but I get to keep my memories. All of them, the good and the bad. Letting him edit my memory is an extremely slippery slope.

“I’m okay.” I give a small, not very funny, laugh. “That’ll teach me to be careful what I look at, huh?”

“Yeah.” He continues to stroke my face, and watch me with very dark eyes. “Sweetness, I don’t want you