"Can a Guardian tell who drew a circle?" I sat back on my heels again as I considered the ashy markings.

"An experienced Guardian, possibly. A neophyte like you?" Jim stopped looking out the window long enough to shake its head. "Unlikely."

I gnawed my lower Up for a few seconds. "Could a Guardian tell what specific demon was summoned by the circle?" I couldn't imagine how knowing what demon was summoned would help me, but it was the only other thing I could think of.

Jim didn't even bother looking my way. "If she couldn't, she's not much of a Guardian."

"Really? How, exactly?"

Jim sat and started licking its belly. I averted my eyes quickly in case it decided to give its personal equipment another spit bath. "You summoned a demon, and you don't know how you did it?"

F gave a mental sigh. "I really hate it when everyone answers my questions with questions."

The demon glanced at me before returning to its belly wash. "We're just trying to swing the scale from clueless to merely incompetent."

I ignored the comment and studied the circle, thinking back to the circle I drew to summon Jim. Suddenly I sat up straight. "The demon's six symbols! That's how I can tell which demon was summoned."

"Give the girl a cigar."

"But this circle doesn't have anything but the twelve symbols of Ashtaroth." I chewed my lip again, searching for signs that the six demon symbols had been rubbed out. There were none.

Jim gave a huge martyred sigh. "If you're any sort of a Guardian, you should be able to feel which demon was summoned by opening yourself to the possibilities."

"The possibilities?" I glanced from my furry demon and to the circle. "Er… how do I do that?"

"What am I, the headmaster at a Guardian school? I've got better things to do than hold your hand." Jim got up and started down the tiny hall toward the bedroom.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

'To drink out of the toilet, since you seem to forget that this magnificent form I have taken needs both feed-ing and watering."

"Don't touch anything else!" I warned, then looked back at the circle, muttering under my breath about demons who wouldn't answer a question when it was put to them. "Open myself to the possibilities. How the heck am I supposed to know whatthat means?"

I remembered the door in my mind that had opened when Drake gave me his fire, and decided to see if I could do the same without being lip-locked with the sexiest dragon in Western Europe. "Guess it's worth a try. I can't do anything worse than fail."

I closed my eyes, my hands outstretched toward the circle. After a few moments of clearing out the everyday hustle and bustle of thoughts that made up my mind, I settled down to opening myself up to the room. Slowly the muffled noises of Paris outside the apartment, the sounds of Jim drinking at the toilet, and the musty, closed smell of the apartment all faded into the background as the circle dominated my thoughts. As I swung the mental door open, I was amazed all I had felt before was a slight tingle around the circle—the power contained within it was enough to make the hairs on my arms stand on end. Even with my eyes closed, I could see it, much clearer in my mind than when viewed with mere eyes. It was as if opening up myself had flipped on a switch that gave me a tremendous clarity of vision. I looked down at the cir-cle and saw clearly that the six demon symbols were drawn with salt, not ash, and like the salt of the circle it-self, the symbols had sunk into the depths of the carpet.

"Bafamal," I said, the name coming to my mind with a surety that made me believe it even though I had not recognized the demon symbols. 'This circle was drawn to summon Bafamal, but he did not answer the sum-mons."

"Why?"

The voice was Jim's. I turned blindly toward the win-dows around which Jim had been sniffing. I could feel echoes of the demon, as if its presence had violated the room. "Because it was already here. It left by the win-dow."

As the words sank into my brain, the door in my mind closed. I opened my eyes, almost disappointed with what I saw. The colors of reality were dull compared with what I had just seen, the edges and contours not quite so de-fined. Just as I was mourning the loss of my super brain-vision, realization of what had happened struck me. "Hey! I reallyam a Guardian! Not that I know exactly what a Guardian is, but I'm whatever they are, I'm one."

"Well, duh," Jim said. "You think just anyone can summon up a superior demon like me?"

I frowned. "According to the books I read, pretty much anyonecan."

"The lesser demons, yes, but not a demon of my qual-ity," Jim sniffed righteously.

I let that comment go without the answer it deserved. 'The demon Bafamal left by the window," I said, getting to my feet and going over to examine the window. I looked out, surprised by what I saw. "There's a fire es-cape here."

"No!" Jim said in mock surprise.

"I'm quite serious about visiting the neutering clinic, you know," I said, but without any heat as I examined the window. There were black splotches of powder all over it where the police had fingerprinted the woodwork. I un-latched the window, pushing it open. "One has to assume that a demon must have a reason for escaping through a window rather than just disappearing in a puff of nasty-smelling smoke. Come on, Jim. Let's see where this leads."

I waited until Jim left the apartment, closing the win-dow as best I could from the outside, hoping no one would notice that it was unlatched. The end of the fire escape nearest me led to a ladder that went up, not down. I turned and walked the length of the building to where a metal ladder could be dropped down halfway to the ground. I examined the ladder, noting that the police had fingerprinted it, as well. Point one for Inspector Proust. "Interesting. So the demon escaped out the window rather than just going back to He … Abaddon. Now I just need to find out when and why Drake was in the apartment and whether he saw the demon. Or the killer. I wonder if Drake came in by the window, as well?"

"Why would he?" Jim asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, but then, I don't know why Drake was here in the first place if he isn't the murderer. And I'm still not sure he's not."

"Are you going to stand there and debate the issue all day, or can we get down?"