by Jax Garren
“I need room,” Elvira announced, now on her phone as she sketched something on the paper. “Move the bed, please.”
Emma hopped up to do her bidding, unsure what was going on, but determined to get it done. But when Elvira finished her sketch, cracked open the can of black paint, and began painting complicated sigils on the floor, a queasy feeling came over her. “Whatcha doing?”
“This is the part that you’re keeping your mouth shut about.”
“Oh, okay. But we’re going to be safe, right?”
“Probably.” That was definitely a pentacle she was creating on the floor. Which Emma knew was a witch symbol and not a Satanist thing, so it didn’t give her the wiggins so much anymore. But that did not look like a normal pentacle.
“What’s, uh… That looks really complicated.”
“It is. It’s been a while since I’ve drawn this, so hopefully I’m not missing anything. That would be unfortunate.”
More squiggles, and four Stars of David. “Uh, you ain’t uh…”
“Calling a demon? I’m not a witch, Emma. I can’t do magic on my own. Are you sure you want this?” Though she kept moving, painting quickly, her voice held enough of a quaver that Emma paused, thinking about it.
“Think there’s some other way we can do this?” Voodoo and demons and zombies…
“You think I’d be painting a cage for Marbas on Juliana’s tile if I had another idea?” Her voice had turned acerbic.
“A… a cage?” This cage of hers appeared to be a triangle with a blacked-out circle in the center.
“His sister and the voodoo priestess have some ideas, but they need someone here, with the patient, to connect to. Plus Marbas is an expert on diseases—a good resource in this case.”
Javier pushed up to sitting, his breathing still hella weird and dark circles ringing his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Uh, we’re summoning a demon.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Emma wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she just sat beside him and held his hand. Meanwhile Elvira lit incense and started smudging the room, or whatever it was called.
Javier had to gasp between nigh every word, but he kept talking anyway. “Oh God, you’re serious. Of course you’re serious. Why wouldn’t we summon a demon?”
Emma crawled back onto the bed. “You ain’t dead yet! Sergio was gone by now. I’m so glad you’re not a west-side douchebag.”
He gave her a rueful but pained look. “I’m already dead. Maybe that’s affecting the disease’s progress. But I feel like…” He blushed, like whatever he’d been going to say next embarrassed him.
“You feel like what, sweetie?”
He gave her a nonplussed look, then ran his hand over his face. “Like I’m physically hanging on to my sanity. All this anger and hopelessness keeps pushing at my head, trying to win. And I just keep telling it to fuck off. But it hurts so much.”
Emma squawked a laugh. “Course you’re fending off zombification with your stubbornness. Only you, Javi, could will yourself into staving off a magical disease.”
He curled in on himself, pressing into his head with the heels of his hands, like the pain was going to crush him. “I can’t do this forever, Em. I can’t spend my whole life fighting. When do I get to rest?”
“Oh, Javi.” She threw her arms around him. After a moment of hesitation, he relaxed into her, his shoulders shaking. “You just gotta hang on a little longer.”
“No, it’s never going to end. I’m never going to be good enough. I’m always going to be angry. I’m never going to… to…”
“To what? Beat the system? You already have! You take odds and you smash the shit out of them. And you’re going to do it again, right now.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
And then she remembered what he’d needed all those months ago—an obstacle, someone to tell him he wasn’t worthy so he’d rise above. She clenched her jaw and gave him what he needed. “You fucking coward. I turned you because I saw a real man who knew who he was and got shit done—an ass kicker, not some give-up pissant who won’t take a risk. You want to die shot by a whore, getting fired as your last act on earth? Fine. Or hang on just a little longer and do something better with your ass.”
His eyes went dark with anger and he flipped her off.
She grinned. “That’s right. Flip me off. Because I’m telling you you can’t. But you know what? I can. I been a failure for my whole fucking life. And I’m going turn my ass around—unlike you. I’ve got a job waiting for me—you do too, at CoVIn, but you ain’t gonna take it. You’re going to be a zombie. And I was gonna ask you to go on a proper date with me, but I ain’t now because you’re a wuss who’s going to turn into a fuckin’ zombie.”
“Uh…” Elvira murmured, staring at them in confusion. Then Javier chuckled between groans of pain, and Elvira shook her head. “You know what? I’m going to call a demon. Carry on.”
“You ain’t gonna see the demon, neither,” Emma said, “because zombies can’t see nothing.”
“Your grammar is fucking awful,” Javier told her.
“Your grammar’s fucking prissy.” Behind her, Elvira started chanting, and the air in the room changed so much Emma’s hair stood on end as wicked energy traveled down her spine, making her shiver. “Holy fuck…”
More incense, but not the sagy smell. This was more floral, sweeter. The candles in the room flickered like something out of a horror movie, as the bed creaked beneath them for no apparent reason. Javier’s arms came around her, then he backed off, with a muttered, “Sorry.”
“Javi, it’s okay. Come back.”
He shook his head, closing off from her again. “I’m not going to force myself on you anymore. I didn’t mean to, to begin with, but I know better.” Poor guy. Even at the potential end of his life, he was backing away from what he wanted—because after two centuries spent fucking everyone she didn’t want, she’d convinced the one man she maybe did to back off.
“It’s different now. I get it. I want this.”
He shook his head. “You’re just saying that to get me to fight. Please don’t.”
How did she respond to that?
She didn’t have to. Javier stared in confused wonder in front of him, reaching one hand out before clutching it back to his head.
Emma whipped her head around to find a man in a lab coat with a lion’s head standing in the triangle. His dark, though not menacing, aura permeated the room. “Uh…”
“Is that a demon? A real one?” Javier whispered, then grunted and closed his eyes.
“I think so.” Shit. She’d known they were real, but… Fear clutched her chest, cold as real death.
With one eye still closed in pain, Javier stared at him. Finally, he said, “Does he want our souls, or how does this work?”
The demon laughed, like he’d heard that, and turned his blue eyes past Elvira to the vampires on the bed. “Let the true petitioner enter the circle.” His voice was guttural—nearly a growl.
Elvira turned to them, eyes full of wariness as she raised a ceremonial dagger in the air. “He’d rather talk to you. Come to the edge of the circle, but don’t cross until I tell you. Marbas is regarded as one of the nicer demons, but that’s a pretty strong qualifier.”
“Uh…” What in all creation would a demon want from her? “My soul ain’t worth much. Promise.”
The demon’s gaze narrowed on her. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
She blinked at him, surprised to find that he was right.
Javier scooted forward, his normally dark skin awful pale, and she didn’t just think it was the sickness. “He’s talking to me. Just help me stand up.”
She frowned but dragged him to the edge of the bed. “You were giving up. I was the one offering up my wrist.”
“But I’m the sick one.”
Together, they got him upright and headed for the circle. “So? You make your patients heal th
emselves? Or you go to bat for them?” At the edge of the esoteric scribbles—and she’d thought normal letters jumped about—they stopped. Emma sniffed as the incense itched her eyes and turned her gaze on the demon, who seemed awful patient for a lord of evil.
“I’m going in,” Javier told her, his voice as firm as she imagined a near-zombified vampire could make it. But he eyed the circle with an expression full of fear.
Elvira looked them both over warily. “Who am I passing control to?”
“Me,” they both said.
He looked at the ground, his breathing even more erratic, if that was possible. “Em—”
“Let me in, Javi, mistakes and all. I’ll do my best by you, I promise.”
His gaze turned back up, so wary that she was afraid for what he’d say next. He licked his dry, cracking lips and turned to Elvira. “Can you pass it to both of us? Together?”
Emma couldn’t help smiling as she pulled him closer against her side.
Elvira looked around the tiny space. “It’s going to be tight in here, but… sure. Just don’t pass the edge of the circle. Can you handle that? If your fledgling falls, you’ll break it.”
“Put your head on my shoulder, hon. We just gotta turn…” Emma started to reposition him to face her so it was easier to hold him up.
Javi’s arms slid around her. “I was completely done with you thirty minutes ago, I swear.”
“I’m sure you’ll be done with me again afore long. I’m annoying as hell. Just promise you’ll keep giving me another chance. I’m going to need a lot of those for us to have any hope at spending eternity together.”
He coughed a laugh, his face buried against her neck. Tingles—Emma guessed that must be magic—poured over her as Elvira chanted some whatsit. And then they were trading places like dancers, she and Javi stumbling even though Elvira was the drunk one, but in the end, she and Javi were in the circle together without messing up the lines, and she supposed that was what really mattered.
Except now they were two feet from a demon standing in a tiny triangle, and he was smiling like everything was about to go his way.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Javier was dying—again. And Emma was trying to save his ass. Again. The first time it’d cost her blood, and then she’d worked her ass off to keep him safe under terrible circumstances. This time it might cost her soul.
Danielle hadn’t taken him to the hospital when it might have cost her a boyfriend.
Emma freaked out and ran. She was confusing and didn’t know what she wanted and was, in general, every bit as fucked-up as he was. But when he needed her most—because he was dying or anger tripping at a party or sitting on top of a zombie or losing his job or succumbing to a curse at a brothel—she stuck by him, ordered him not to give up, and risked herself, body and now soul, to keep him safe.
The weirdest realization dawned on him. This was not the calm, steady, sober marriage he’d been looking for. But they still might make some stumbling kind of relationship work. He might be a zombie, and they might literally be in hell, but they were going to handle it. Together. But in order to have that, he had to accept that life was a chaotic mess—no matter how hard he tried to make things go smoothly. If that was true, then of all the qualities he could ask for in a partner, it wasn’t normalcy that mattered, but that willingness to get back up after failure and stick it to whatever was trying to mow them down.
Since he’d stepped into the circle, breathing had seemed a little less necessary, and he felt a little more like a vampire who wasn’t fighting a curse. So it was easier to offer Emma a somewhat pleasant expression despite the absolute pounding in his head. “Our lives are not normal.”
“You just now figuring this out, sweet pea?”
The demon spoke, his voice a low, gravely rumble. “What is it you most desire? To know your future—how this relationship turns out? To understand the science behind a vampire’s magic?” Javier sucked in a breath at that temptation as the demon continued, “And you, what do you most desire? To know if your little business idea will be successful? Or… I know. I can cure you of your problem with letters. Would you like to read with ease?”
“Damn,” Emma muttered, stiffening up. Then she grunted in frustration. “No, I just want Javier well. I’ll fumble by on the rest.”
“Unless,” Javier added, “you’re getting our souls no matter what we ask for—then, you know, might as well live it up while we can.” He turned to Elvira. “How does this work?”
More laughter, like the grumbling rush of an avalanche. “With your souls I could make your life exactly as you please for the next thirteen years.”
“No,” they both said in unison.
“Is there a second option?” Javier asked.
The demon’s grin made Javier’s skin crawl. “Yes.”
“What is it?”
“To start, I’ll need a bigger triangle.”
* * *
Javier screamed in pain, his body hot and feverish the moment they’d stepped out of the circle.
“Remember, unlike us, he’s never been human,” Elvira warned Emma and the women on the other end of the video chat as she painted the biggest triangle she could fit in the room.
Emma was trying to pay attention as she held Javier and whispered calming words in his ear, but it was hard. But they were gonna—holy shit—let the demon out into the room, where he could interact with them.
“Don’t say thank you. Don’t ask him for a favor—not even like ‘hand me that thing, please.’ You don’t have to answer any questions he asks. Don’t get personal. Assume he wants freedom and assume he wants to drag you—and everyone else he can latch into a deal—back to hell with him when he finally goes.”
“Why does he want more people in hell?” Rhi asked over the phone. “And is hell really all torture and fire?”
Elvira grimaced. “Demons are bound to silence on certain topics, so unless you have the power to break magic crafted by Lucifer himself, there’s a lot we can’t learn. Every demon we’ve ever encountered, however, wants to escape Gehenna—the hell plane they’re bound to—and the vehemence with which they want off makes everyone assume it’s bad. As for why they want souls, we’re not entirely sure, but the assumption is they’re gathering an army large enough to attack the Akashic plane—where heaven is—and Lucifer will grant rewards to the demons with the largest, most effective armies. Basically, it’s a family squabble, and we’re the pawns.” Triangle finished, she looked around with a wary frown. “Everyone ready?” Receiving nods, she stood at the edge of the old triangle. “Do you, Marbas, agree to enter in peaceful accord with everyone here in this space, including over electronic media?”
“Agreed.” The word was spoken simply, but the twinkling amusement in his eyes, like he thought the little humans were hilarious, boded no good.
“Can’t he just say that and lie?” Emma asked, nervous as all shit as Elvira, looking hella nervous herself, raised her hand to the plane of the triangle.
“No. The fact that we can break our oaths makes humans, and those of us derived from humans, pretty unique.”
The demon placed his hand in front of hers, palm to palm, and together they inscribed mirror images of a circle as they muttered something incomprehensible.
Marbas stepped past the smaller triangle and into the space they shared. As he did so, the lion’s head morphed into a handsome blond man with steely-blue eyes, the pupils of which were slit like a goat’s. With a grin and a deep breath, he turned to Emma. “Unique and untrustworthy. Unlike you, I can’t lie. There’s a piece of information for free.”
Elvira shot him a dirty look. “But you can equivocate, which is the same thing.”
“So you say,” the demon responded as he headed to Javier, where he convulsed on the bed. “Hold him down. You, on the phone, tell me what’s happened.”
The demon’s presence was like a weight in the room, pulling everything toward him like a new and stronger source of grav
ity. But Javier was so far gone, Emma found herself more concerned with him than the bleakness, and she obeyed, forcing Javier to quiet as best she could as Rhi and Dez explained the whole situation.
Marbas checked his pulse and placed a hand at his forehead, fingers resting just between his brows, then turned those goat-slitted eyes on Emma. “You have the vaccine in you?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Out of the air, the demon pulled bottles and jars of various colors and shapes, like an alchemical cabinet gone wild. “I’ll expect exact replacements for any ingredients I use—all common enough on this plane—but the kindling will cost you.”
“I can kindle it!” Rhi called through the phone.
“You’re not present,” the demon said as he began mixing ingredients. “I understand you’re related to the patient, but the spell will be on his sire. You can’t blood transfer.”
“Me?” Emma asked, swallowing carefully.
“Yes.”
Rhi held up a blonde hank. “I have her hair.”
If Marbas was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “Fair enough. That’ll work if you’re good.” He stopped mixing to touch her face on the phone screen, and his brows shot up in surprise. “You won’t have a problem. Ready?” He handed Emma a vial. “Drink this.”
Emma stared at it, terrified. “Wait! I’m getting bespelled?”
“Enspelled, but yes.”
“En… Okay, sure, but by a demon?”
“Technically no. You’ll be enspelled by her, though the spell is a combination of my work, the mambo’s work, the vaccine, and your blood. Your blood will become an antidote, which he will drink and be cured.”
That was terrifying. But it was for Javier. And they needed to do this now.
Elvira cleared her throat. “Any negative effects for Emma?”
The demon shrugged. “Blood loss. Easy enough for a vampire to cure.”
“And everyone else out in the streets?” Rhiannon asked.
The insane twinkle came back, giving Emma a bad feeling. “That’s a different problem now, isn’t it? One I don’t know how to solve.” He grinned. “But I’m sure, working together, we could come up with something—if my time is worth it to you.”
