The art was exquisite, if dark. Seeing Bosch next to Grunewold next to Duhrer was a little jarring, but the worth it. The close company was entertaining, Cords seemed to know more about the art, especially the art dealing specifically with demons and Satan, then I had been willing to give him credit for. He always found something to comment on; the lighting, little funny stories involving a few, the issues involved in storing them... I was seeing a side of him I didn't know, and I liked it.

The rest of the company was boring to the point of inducing tears. Case in point: the mayor and his wife. Mayor Zach Bartlet and his wife Sandra were two boring old politicos, well entrenched in the local machine. He had been mayor for the last 20 years, and only a stick of dynamite could move his butt from that chair at this point.

He was an older and heavier man with a fringe of light tan hair mixed with gray that set his mostly bald pate off nicely. He was wearing a suit that looked, if anything, more expensive in cut and cloth than Cord's did. It also looked singularly out of place on him too.

His wife Sandra was an almost emaciated thing, an animate stick in an expensive burgandy dress with a crown of white hair that looked to be covered in plastic she had so much product in it. The rumor was she was the brains to the mayor's bluff demeanor and political acumen.

He was currently eyeing me like I was a hamburger or something. As rotund as he was that was a distinct possibility.

“Ahh, here she is. Hello, Mayor Bartlet, my wife Sandra. So you're the new summoner the chief has been telling me about, right? His praise hardly does your personage justice!”

I couldn't blame Sandra, if I were her I'd look a little sour now too. Though my money was still on the good mayor wanting fry me up than anything else; she had no reason to think I'd want to be the Bugatti Veyron to her Ford Taurus.

The mayor needs work on his pompous routine; who actually still uses 'personage' anymore? Though I guess it was likely better than just blurting out what he was thinking, judging by where his eyes were. I hadn't seen him look at a single painting the entire night; but then again, I hadn't really been watching him like the proverbial hawk.

“I'm Calvin Leonard and this is Maeve Numens, Anti-Demon Task Force. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mayor.”

I wasn't going to start a scene by suggesting I could speak for myself, but I took note of that unseemly breach in decorum later. We weren't a couple (yet) and he had no reason to introduce us both. Unless he knew the mayor from an earlier meeting, but the mayor's face gave no indication of that.

Despite that, the two were soon chatting like old friends; from what I could tell, about basketball teams and stats. The mayor was a huge fan of Wilt Chamberlain, it seems. Sandra attempted to make a little small talk in my direction, eying the same assets her husband was but with for a different reason. At least I hoped it was. Her first verbal salvo showed what she thought of the night's entertainment – and showed more of her personality than she knew.

“So, are you as bored as I am?”

“Actually I'm not bored at all. I wanted to come here to see the art; I find the subject matter fascinating.”

She muttered 'of course you do' under her breath, which I caught clearly. She hadn't intended that of course, but my senses were really good. Possibly better than normal good; I had no real comparison to make there, my memory on my senses was spotty at best. I thought they might be better, but it was really hard for me to say. I continued on, letting her know I'd heard her.

“I wanted to see this exhibit when it started it's tour, before I was drafted. Renaissance painting has always been an interest of mine, and the use of chiaroscuro in paintings depicting evil is something special. The effect of such bold contrast conveys the hint of light among the dark, or dark among the light, as it were.”

It took her a second to close her mouth. She probably didn't even know what I was referring to. For all that the mayor stumped for the paintings making their way here, it wasn't too likely that he knew either. Kind of sad really, I half suspected that Sandra was the reason for all the political arm twisting to bring the exhibit here. Seems I was mistaken.

Which begged the question and raised a minor mystery; perhaps it had just been a financial decision? But this city was hardly a mecca for the arts, would the profit and tourism outweigh the costs of bringing it here? It would be close, but I felt no. Perhaps it was for political points?

Or perhaps the pressure to bring the exhibit here came from someone else?

There as the general, after all, and the wiki on him pegged him as a lover of Renaissance art. And he had much more pull than the mayor. Heck, he probably had as much as a retired president. The Europeans loved him. Something I didn't understand really, because while he was powerful, under his watch we were still losing. Maybe it was because we were losing slower?

I felt almost obligated to go and say hello; it would likely be more interesting than listening to the blather I was currently tuning out. But I was a fresh from training officer, or close enough, and that was a general. It just wasn't done. A shame really; I didn't recognize the people he was talking to, but I could bet they weren't as annoying.

“ …and so Hanzel said 'if you want to run out there and take a look, you be my guest, but I won't help clean up what's left of you.'”

Yep, pretty annoying. She was actually talking taking to the streets during the alert to try and see the demon. Apparently she has a heart condition, and was at the Pharmacy picking up her prescription. And she wanted to see the demon that slaughtered a good 20 or so people... with a heart condition.

And she had kids. Her genes were already passed on. The mind boggles.

“It was for the best that you didn't. That particular demon was a heavy combat type of imp. It was rather difficult to take down.”

I felt bad for lying... but maybe the lie would keep her from being stupid in the future. Then again, that gleam in her eye looked most unhealthy.

“Really? Did it... injure anyone from the ADTF?”

Now what the hell sort of question was that? What she was really asking was if it killed any of us.

“No, I handled it. There were no casualties of any kind on our side.”

“Oh, you were the one?”

“I was. Cal, can we move on? I want to see the Sadeler pieces in the next room. It was wonderful meeting you both.”

“Yes, it was wonderful meeting you Mr. Mayor, Mrs. mayor.”

He let himself be dragged along with a final wave and I took him about as far from the main area as I could, into a darker underused part of the museum. I really did want to see those Sadelers, but more than that I wanted to get away from all the smarm.

“So what was that, exactly? You didn't want to schmooze?”

I shook my head, but had to grin. That painting depicting a fat Satan was mildly humorous. The whimsy mixed in with the evil was very well done.

“I don't have anything in common with those people. Sandra was... well she made me want to hit her.”

“More in common than you think.”

Something he saw in the look I gave him made him backpedal fast. Which of course meant he was reading the expression right.

“No, no, not like that. I meant you're all three very charismatic. Did I mention you're beautiful when you're angry?”

“No, but that doesn't let you off the hook. You really think I'm charismatic?”

“A natural born leader, and without even trying. I for one, would follow you anywhere.”

OK I had to admit, that was kind of sweet.

“At any rate, I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to see the entire thing. Something I can't do while hobnobbing.”

And I was a simple type, I didn't really fit in with the elites. At least, I hoped I didn't.

“Well despite the mean look the curators gave me, my uncouth self saved your plate for you when you ran off.”

What? Sure there was a buffet there with what had to be some pretty expensive finger foods, but I hadn't made a plate. I hadn't been hungry.

“I hadn't had time to hit the buffet. When did you...?”

“When Sandra was talking your ear off, the mayor and I went for a snack. I brought you back a little. Truthfully, I'm thinking of going back there and getting a takeout sack... the shrimp puffs are divine.”

The small plate he handed me was white and at least half bowl. There were no shrimp puffs in it. Instead there were some sort of berry. There were six of them, and nothing else. They looked almost like grapes.

“They are called Jabuticaba. They are rare type of fruit from South America. I had a few to try them out. They are exquisite.”

“They sound expensive.”

I tried one. It tasted like a rather tart grape... only more. Much more. It was much like eating one of those gushing candies, only it seemed to have more juice in it, and it seemed to be more refreshing. Before I knew it they were gone. Cords looked amused and handed me a napkin.

“You have berry on your lips.”

I dabbed.

“Well they taste expensive. I'll have to look for more of them or something.”

“I would guess they are quite expensive to import, judging by that spread. My guess is you won't find them at the local grocery. I'm told they make a decent wine; we might be able to find that.”

I handed the plate/bowl back to him as I asked:

“We?”

I certainly had no intention of sharing. Those berries had been amazing. He looked more amused than shocked.

“Oh come on, you can share a little!”

“Nope, you'll have to buy your own... that is if I don't get there first.”

I handed the napkin back for good measure too.

“Hows my lipstick?”

“A wonderful shade that you wear well.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“I meant, did I smudge it?”

“Oh! Hmmm....”

He looked closer.

“Nope, you're good to go back and mingle any time you want to.”

“Which will, of course, be never. Come on, one last room to see.”

He waved and headed back to the lobby.

“I'll catch up, I need to get rid of this trash... and maybe check to see if there are any more berries?”

I grinned.

“Well I won't say no.”

The last room was filled with the work of Jacopo Tintoretto. Some of the subject matter in the paintings weren't exactly pertinent, like “Leda and the Swan,” but his “The Descent into Hell” was as great a piece of art from the period as one could see. It easily rivaled the works of Michelangelo and Rapheal, at least in my opinion.

“Breathtaking, isn't it?”

I was in mid nod when I finally recognized the voice. It was my mother.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Of course she would be here, she was every bit the social butterfly Mrs Bartlet was, and this would be the perfect occasion. A look showed I was flanked; Mom on one side, Dad on the other.

“Mother. Dad.”

“Hi honey!”

Mom was entirely too chipper; either she had forgotten the entire argument we had where I pumped for the truth... or she was ignoring it. My money was on forgetting personally, but it could be either. Dan on the other hand, was more chained to earth, though he looked like he wanted to be smoking like a chimney. He did have a drink in his hand, so that was something.

“Maeve.”

My flake of a mother pointed once again to “The Descent into Hell” again, this time overbalancing and almost touching it, before dad snagged her by the back of her sparkly silver dress and again brought her upright. I wondered if her dress had been engineered for such stresses on purpose; mine would have ripped.

And worse, as crazy as she is, she looked as stunning as ever, and a small part of me hated and resented her for that. I quickly squashed that part of myself as best I could, though it left me wondering how screwed up I really was.

“You shouldn't try to touch the paintings mother.”

“Ahh, but I wasn't! I have trouble balancing sometimes. I'm kind of top heavy.”

I was pretty sure the part of my myself I'd just ground into metaphorical dust would be howling at the comment. But it got worse. Oh boy. I'd forgotten the rule... around my mother, it could always get worse. She grabbed me with a big hug, groping me right then and there.

“It seems to be something we share! How about you honey, any problems balancing?”

With Dad's help I managed to fend her off. Luckily before anyone arrived in the deserted room and spotted us.

“No Mother, no problems balancing. At least not after the first few days.”

Hey wait a minute. Her klutziness could be explained by that possibly... if she never got the idea of managing a lower center of gravity.

Or was prevented from doing so.

I would have to ask Grex later tonight. And if he had done that, maybe I could get him to undo it. But if I could should I bother? I mean it might lead to him screwing her up in some other way. Or even worse, now I needed to ask what other ways he screwed her up. It might be that he told me the truth about Mom when I asked, but did he really tell me all of it?

“Something on your mind, Maeve?”

Dad looked pretty concerned. I guess the females of our family did not have a good track record historically. And he was always good at reading me. Not that I was hard to read; according to Karen I was an open book.

“Just a few questions for a certain thing of our mutual acquaintance, when I get a chance. So, you enjoying the exhibit?”

He shrugged while Mom shook her head yes so violently that she would have fallen, save for Dad's arm around her.

“It's not really my thing, but even I can tell the paintings are well done.”

“Some of the best ever done. Straight from Italy, when Italy was the center of the western world.”

He grinned a little sourly and slugged his drink back before he gave his laconic reply.

“Yeah them and Greece. Third world countries now.”

“Yes, but they had good runs and great art while they lasted.”

I couldn't help but feel obliged to point that out. Mom nodding along enthusiastically with my point didn't help my peace of mind any.

“Alright, they were out of the Jabuticaba, but they had some Strawberries and cream so I got you those. Oh and a glass of this wonderful Merlot which I couldn't see the name of, but is probably worth more than a day's wages.”

And Cords was back, materializing at my side as if he hadn't crossed the intervening space. I was going to have to put a bell on him or something; even though the carpeting wad pretty plush. Anyone really could sneak around I guess.

Who would want to carpet up a museum anyway? I personally would want to hear potential thieves coming. The cleaning bill must be enormous. Cords sidled up to my elbow and handed me another plate/bowl, filled with Strawberries and the wine.

“Thank you.”

Uh oh. Mom was looking between us, first at Cords, then me, then cords, then me, as if watching a tennis match. I could see the ear to ear grin bloom in slow motion on her face. She was going to do something embarrassing.

“Dad, Mom, this is Cords. Cords, my Mom and Dad.”

The introduction would stall her I hope. If I was lucky she'd lose track entirely of what she was about to do.

“Pleased to meet you detective Numens, Mrs. Numens.”

Dad knew my mom like no one else. He attempted to stave off the apocalypse by striking first, as I had. He held out a hand.

“Cords, Cords... the tech and communications expert for the ADTF day shift?”

“The very same.”

They shook.

“We've met before.”

Whatever Dad was going to say next was interrupted by the embarrassment bomb. This time it was only two meaning laden words.

“Grand babies.”

Oh damn it.

Cords went white, and I'm sure I was a human tomato. I was very proud of how calm my voice was.

“Mother, it's far too early to be thinking of such things. This is the first time.”

“The first time you two have been on a date?”

I shook my head.

“The first time I've been on a date like this, ever.”

She openly gawked in what could only be a deigned manner, not that an outsider would know.

“Really? But it's been six months! That's almost a lifetime!”

I could actually understand what she meant by that. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die.

“Well I'm a slow starter I guess... just like my Mom. Right, mother?”

A pointed glance at Dad and even she could get what I meant.

“Um, right. So I guess we have to wait.”

I nodded as graciously as I could. She was so darn trying, sometimes. Even if I wasn't still mad at her – which I was.

“Yep; at least until after my first tour.”

Mom hadn't even looked at another person in any sexual manner until she finished her first tour. Unless of course, she lied to me. Or maybe Dad hadn't been her first. Ugh, this was something no kid wanted to think about... their parent's sex lives.

Oh well, I'd seen all I wanted to here. I'd even had a snack, and good wine. While this was a nice night, I was feeling a little restless, and I was more than willing to go. A subtle hint at Cords would undoubtedly help.

“Calvin.”

“Yes, Maeve?”

“Have you seen everything you wanted? This was the last one for me.”

Alright, so I sucked at subtle.

“Yes, I've seen all the masterpieces I could ever want tonight.”

Innuendo perhaps? It sort of felt like it, though it didn't come across as smarmy or fake. His face was completely serious, and his eyes seemed to drink my form in as if it were the wine we had. His eyes didn't wander a milometer, save up and down.

It was flattering, in a way. I wondered if the Numen family tended to attract eccentric devoted personalities. Dad's eyes had never wandered either, no matter how crazy mom got. I should only be so lucky as to find the same. Though I wasn't sure I was ready to live the old adage about being attracted to one's parents.

“So I take it you're ready to go?”

“I am, if you're good to drive.”

“I only had a small glass of wine. I'm stone cold sober and very good to drive.”

He took my arm in his in genteel fashion, and led me out into the crowd again. We strode past them as a king and queen, and he held the door for me on the way out. I caught my parents watching me from the corner of my eye.

I also saw the general doing the same, in a frank manner. He wasn't even trying to hide his interest.

“OK, that was creepy.”

Cords was once again at my shoulder and we were safely through.

“What was?”

“Did you see the general?”

He shook his head.

“The old man in the uniform? You really didn't see him?”

“I had other more interesting things to look at.”

And there it was again.

“Well he agreed with you apparently; he was staring at us on the way out. The entire time out.”

“Well you are one of the Summoners under his command.”

I agreed, but disagreed.

“I'm only one of many. I wasn't even the only summoner there. Jimmy was there, and so was Silas. Heck, he knows my Mom, and she was there. Plenty of other people to express interest in.”

“Maybe, but you're the only active Numens summoner. You're family is kind of big deal.”

I didn't get that; how did everyone know the entire history of my family but me? Was there more to it? More summoners from our family that helped in the war that I don't know about?

“How so? I thought it was just me and my mother.”

“Well it's not really my place to say, but supposedly your grandma was a pretty astute Summoner as well. That's the rumor anyway. For some reason the file on your family is classified.”

Well, I was pretty sure I knew the answer for why that was. The contracts for both myself and my mother would easily be classified, just on the realization that a specific demon was stalking our family. There had to be a reason for that. Hmm, another thing to ask Grex. That list was getting quite big. Still drowning under the ocean of things I did not know, in a game when everything I didn't know could kill me.

Cord's opened his car door and helped me inside; I was rather grateful, because when sitting back at least I was as graceful as a walrus in these stupid shoes. Any more heel to them and I'd be snapping my fool neck and ending my career easily enough.

“I wish I'd have met you at your place. That way you wouldn't need to drive home, I'd just do it for you.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I'm quite capable.”

He favored me with a haughty grin.

“Yes, but it's the more genteel option.”

I thought genteel before, but he actually used the word, as if he were trying to be a gentleman. Come to think of it, for tonight at least, he had been less 'working stiff' and more high society. Not completely, but it was clear he was trying. Not really having anything to say I stayed quiet. That restlessness was growing stronger; I felt the urge to do something, anything, as long as it was active.

Traffic was light and we flowed through it easily. Before I could fully shake my distraction we were back at the police garage. Cords pulled up behind my car, and put his car in park. I think my mood was sensed, as nothing was said. Even the radio was off, leaving us in blessed silence.

Before I could really ponder what I was doing, or question it, I leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, I had a nice time.”

He looked more dazed than that Jay guy, in that movie. Then my brain caught up, and I flung myself out of the car towards mine. I only barely made out his answer as I dove through the door of it, Heels be damned.

“Sure, no problem, anytime.”

Irrational or not, I locked my car door before I started it up. Just what had gotten into me? Why had I done that? Was it even the proper thing to do, or not?

I looked up and Cords was gone.

Without further ado I backed up and left myself. I wanted nothing more than to just turn the siren on and speed somewhere, anywhere. Maybe I could play tag with traffic. Abuse my Summoner status and penchant for being crazy, like every other Summoner did. Like I had earlier this evening, just to avoid being late for a date.

There was without any doubt, something wrong with me.

I obeyed the speed limit. Of that I am proud. I couldn't quite stop my own weaving among the traffic, just for something to do. It was activity, and I needed that. If not for the fact that I would want my car tomorrow, I'd have just jogged all the way home, dress and all. Heck, heels and all.

Pulling into the apartment lot I realized my skin felt itchy. It also felt rebellious, as if it were crawling it's way off my frame. The air was chilled, but I felt none of it. If anything, I was too warm. Could summoners get sick? More to the point, could I get sick? I was under the impression that I could not.

But I certainly seemed to be coming down with a fever; all the signs were there.

Once in the lobby I removed my shoes. The carpeting was clean enough to not worry about my stockings, and I wanted speed. I didn't even bother with the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time as much as I possibly could with the dress hampering my efforts.

By the time I reached my door my head was buzzing, and my nerves were tingling. I couldn't find the keys in my smallish purse, so I just decided to use a minor spell to open the door. My control was as bad as it had ever been... I almost blew the knob off. I didn't even bother closing it before I summoned Grex.

“Grex, veni huc!”

His embrace was actually cool against my skin. I couldn't help but ag into it.

“Mistress, you aren't well. “

“No crap. Something is wrong.”

He was both gentle and stern as he helped me through the apartment to my wonderful comfy bed.

“Yes, what did you do?”

Was he blaming me for this?

“What do you mean, what did I do? I just feel like crap.”

He glared at me. Actually glared! How dare he! This demonic scum that ruined my life, and that of my family... even sick, I could glare back.

“Yes, your power is out of control; beyond even that of the earrings to suppress. The only way that could happen is if you removed one, or used a massive amount of power, drawing enough power past the earring's abilities to suppress. Instead of a gradual increase, we have power responding to an increased potential for it's use and flooding you.”

I winced as my head seemed to fill with cotton; an unpleasant but strangely odd feeling.

“So how bad is it?”

I shifted to a more comfortable position as Grex brushed my hair from my eyes, peering into them.

“Not bad at all; it won't be fatal, and it won't hurt you at all... you just need a few hours to regain equilibrium. Oh, and another set of earrings.”

Great, more holes in my ears. With another set added, that would be 4 per ear. Eight pure silver rings total, each inscribe with glyphs meant to limit my power. I wasn't entirely sure why I needed them anymore, but that was just another question to add to the list at this point.

“So, my wonderful mistress, what did you do to ruin all my wonderful calculations regarding safe use of your abilities?”

I almost didn't feel like telling him. But maybe honesty would actually be returned this time. First time for everything.

“Used my time dilation field and extended it around my car, so I wouldn't be late.”

His eyes widened in what could only be genuine shock.

“You engaged your most powerful magicks... around the entire surface of a large sedan... and all to avoid being a few minutes LATE FOR A DATE?!?”

Sheesh he could be loud.

“Yes?”

The language he was using wasn't something known to me, but I could make reasonable guesses as to what he was saying.

“Hey, I don't want to hear it from you. I'm allowed to indulge a little, if I feel the need. It's my power, I sold my soul for it, and I'll use it how I want.”

After all, I hadn't been hurting anyone, and regardless what I used the power for, I would pay later. Whenever I died, to be precise. He ran a hand through his feathery hair, clearly exasperated.

“You know what mistress? You are absolutely correct. Forgive me for speaking out of turn. But use your power too much and you will attract the wrong type of attention. I worry for you, and you are making my job of protecting you much harder.”

How so? Were demons going to hunt me?

“Are demons going to be attracted to me now? And if so, won't that make my own job easier?”

“Yes, some demons will come hunting you... among other things. And yes, that is likely to make your own job easier, if you survive.”

Now I was curious; this was his first mention of something else. I'd seen no evidence in our lore of anything else.

“Like what other things?”

He smirked at me.

“You thought demons were the only plague to humanity? Silly mistress. Much more in heaven and earth, than in your philosophy.”

Grex was an ass. But he had been around since the beginning of... well everything, so I had to assume he knew what he was talking about. He tucked me in.

“Sleep for now, my mistress, then you may ask me all the questions you desire. Water under the bridge as you humans say, there is still plenty of time to learn everything you need to know.”

I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to learn, to know, to be doing something. Anything at all. And then suddenly I was bone weary, and wanted to sleep. I wanted to ask Grex if he had done anything to make me sleep, but the words wouldn't form. I fought it, but in vain.