The Undead Pool by Kim Harrison

a spell by his or her aura is a bloody hell waste of time. As you have an interest, I will indulge you, but I’m not going to do it myself. If you’re done playing zookeeper, we can begin.” He looked pointedly at me. “Are you done, Rachel?”
    Silent, I took the mangled ball out of the brown lunch bag I’d brought it in and nervously set it on the table beside the magnetic chalk, a vial of yellow oil, and a copper crucible.
    Al’s eyebrows rose. “Since when do you golf?”
    I knew Al didn’t like Trent. I knew that the source of his hatred was more than five thousand years old and hadn’t lessened in all that time. “I was on a job,” I said. “It exploded under a deflection charm. I think it might have triggered an assassination spell.”
    Shoulders stiff, his eyes narrowed. “You were Kalamack’s caddie ?”
    â€œI’m his security,” I said, voice rising. “It’s a paying job.”
    Standing, Al’s lips curled in disgust. “I said avoid him, and you take a subservient role?” My breath to protest huffed out when he slammed the book in his hand onto the table. “There’s only one possible relationship, that of a slave and master, and you are failing!”
    â€œGod, Al! It was five thousand years ago!” I exclaimed, startled.
    â€œIt was yesterday,” he said, hand shaking as it pinned the book to the table. “Do you think the fact that there can be no viable children between elf and demon is an accident? It’s a reminder, Rachel. Lose him or abuse him. There is no middle ground.”
    â€œYeah?” I exclaimed. “You’re the one who offered him a circumcision curse. I thought you two were BFFs.”
    Brow furrowed, Al came around the table, and I forced myself to not move. “You’re making a mistake. There’re already concerns that we moved too fast in killing Ku’Sox.”
    I drew back. “Excuse me!”
    â€œThat we were taken in by elven trickery and lured into killing one of our own.”
    â€œThat is so full of bull!” I could not believe this. “Ku’Sox was trying to kill all of you and destroy the ever-after!”
    â€œEven so,” he said as he put a threatening arm over my shoulder. “It would be better if you simply . . .” His words drifted off into nothing, his fingers rubbing together, then opening as if freeing something.
    â€œYou spent a thousand years with Ceri. What’s the difference?”
    His arm fell away, and I felt cold. “Ceri was my slave. You’re treating Trent as an equal.”
    â€œHe is an equal.”
    Motions brusque, Al reached for his book. “No, he isn’t,” he growled.
    â€œYeah? Well, you loved Ceri,” I accused. “You loved her for a thousand years.”
    â€œI. Did. Not!” he thundered, and I cringed when dust sifted from the rafters.
    â€œFine,” I muttered. “You didn’t.” This had been a bad idea, and I grabbed my golf ball to go home. He was my easy ticket out of here, though, until the sun set and Bis woke up.
    Seeing me standing there, chin high and pissed, clearly wanting to leave, Al relented, stiffly pointing for me to take his chair. Relieved and uncomfortable, I did, setting the golf ball back down with undue force before I sat on the hard stool. The spell book was splayed out in his thick, ruddy hand as he came to stand behind me, and I could smell the centuries of ever-after on him, soaked in until it couldn’t be washed off. He’d teach me this, but I was sure our conversation was far from over.
    â€œIt doesn’t look like much,” I said as I looked at the spell laid out before us.
    His hand hit the table beside me, and he leaned uncomfortably close over my shoulder. “Good curses don’t.”
    The slate table shifted as he pushed back up, and still lurking more behind than beside me, he