Hell's Spells (Ordinary Magic Book 6)

by Devon Monk

  I rubbed at the headache starting behind my eyes. Myra opened the cruiser door, then it clanked shut.

  “Let’s be serious for a minute.” I dropped my hand. “This isn’t a game, Xtelle. Not this part.”

  Xtelle considered me for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind. She shimmered, becoming pink fire and smoke, burnt strawberries, then reformed into her woman shape.

  She was tall, taller than me, her long, dark hair braided over one shoulder, her skin flawless. Her eyes flashed pink before going dark again. She wore a simple, cream cashmere sweater and a pair of wide-legged cream slacks.

  If I didn’t know she was a demon, I’d think she was a model or heiress.

  “Perhaps you’ll take me more seriously in this form. I want to sign the contract, Delaney. I want to be a citizen of Ordinary. I will follow the rules.”

  Lie or truth?

  “What form are you going to take in Ordinary?” I asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that part of the contract terms?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I can choose?”

  “Within reason and with my approval.”

  “You must so enjoy telling people what they can be. Controlling other living beings.”

  “Move it along, Xtelle. I’m just doing my job.”

  I’d never forced any person—supernatural or otherwise—to change who they were on a whim. It wasn’t like I told Bigfoot to shave. And he hadn’t.

  But since he’d chosen to keep his Sasquatchy shape, he couldn’t wander town without getting a lot of questions, at best, or being shipped off to some kind of experimental lab, at worst.

  He stayed away from town in daylight, and our “there’s a bear in the area” cover story worked well enough. Still, he had a spell necklace he could wear that would hide his true form if he needed to.

  “How about you show me which form you prefer,” I said.

  She glanced at Myra, who had rejoined us. I don’t know what she was looking for there. Myra was on my side.

  “This form is pleasant.” She ran her fingertips down her sides before bracing palms on hips. “But being human is…tedious.”

  “Any day now, Xtelle.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Pink smoke, a puff of glitter, and she was once again a little pink unicorn.

  “Nope,” I said. “That won’t work. We told you that before.”

  “But I like this form. It’s so…me.”

  “You agreed to the pony form the last time you were in town. How about we just go with that?”

  “Boring.”

  I waited.

  She looked between Myra and me again.

  “Fine. But I refuse to be happy about it.” She shimmered, no glitter and only a thin wisp of smoke. And there stood a pony. She was a palomino, her tawny color a little on the pink side, but not so much as to draw attention.

  Was her sun-bleached mane a little shinier than normal? Maybe. Were her hooves polished with a subtle iridescence? Definitely.

  Frankly, that was a lot easier than I expected.

  “Are you happy now?” Xtelle moped.

  “Not yet.” Myra flipped out a clipboard with a very familiar looking document attached.

  Of course, she’d brought the demon contract with her. Right place, right time.

  Xtelle wrinkled her long nose. “Did you have to use three-point type?”

  I glanced at the page, glanced at Myra, then back at Xtelle. “That’s fourteen, at least.”

  “And double spaced,” Myra added. “Oh, that’s right. You’re ancient. Here, let me help.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out a pair of over-large, high magnification, tiger-striped reading glasses.

  “I…you…she’s mean,” Xtelle yelled at me.

  “Ponies don’t talk,” I reminded her. There was no one around. I’d chosen this parking spot for a reason.

  “I’m not a…you’re not the boss of me here.”

  “As soon as you sign that contract and come to Ordinary, I will be. But if you want to run around out here in the big world being a talking pony, all the power to you. I’m sure the lab where they’ll dissect your brain will be very cozy.”

  She stomped her front hooves. Both of them. Then she turned a little circle stomping each hoof down on the pavement as hard as she could, while she muttered, “Smash you, smash your head, smash your rules, smash, smash, smash.”

  When she was facing us again, her eyes were wide and watery and crazy looking. The weird fake grin she wore was troubling.

  “I’m so happy,” she burbled. “Just, happy, happy, happy. Let me read that contract and sign on that line. Happy, happy line. Just so happy.” She yanked the clipboard out of Myra’s hand.

  “Let me see, happy agreement…between happy parties…” she mumbled through the high points of the document.

  Myra took a couple steps forward and plunked the reading glasses on Xtelle’s nose.

  Xtelle froze. Then her head moved in that slow-motion swivel usually only seen in horror movies.

  “Since the type is so tiny,” Myra said.

  Xtelle’s eye twitched.

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. My sister wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even an ancient, vindictive demon who was the mother of the man—well, demon—she was dating.

  “You are so thoughtful,” Xtelle ground out.

  Myra grinned wildly at me over the top of the pony, and I flashed her a thumbs up.

  “Pen,” Xtelle demanded, flipping out a hoof.

  Myra offered a pen. Xtelle picked it up with her lips. The demon pony initialed, initialed again, then signed on the dotted line, a flicker of pink smoke rising up as she finished her name with a flourish.

  A thread of awareness hooked into my chest. She was only the second demon in history who had signed the contract to live in Ordinary. The connection between us was a physical thing.

  I didn’t usually feel a connection with other supernatural beings who came to town, but demons were new. It was going to take time for me to get used to how they fit into our town.

  “All right.” I reached for the clipboard. “My turn.” I read through the document, looking for any changes she might have made.

  The contract was solid. Ryder had gone over it with a fine-toothed comb, plus we’d done all the normal blessings and magical anointments to demon-proof the thing. Bathin had even pointed out a loophole in language so tiny, a gnat wouldn’t have been able to stick a wing through it. Since demons were even more persistent than gnats, we’d reworked the language.

  This contract was solid. Rock and earth and mountain solid.

  “Stupid contract.” Xtelle lifted her nose and the glasses slipped back up toward her forelock. “Stupid Reed sisters. Stomp them. Stomp them in the hoof hole.”

  “What was that?” I asked as I signed my full name and added my initials.

  “Shotgun,” she said. “I call shotgun.” She sassed off to the front of the Jeep, opened the door, and wedged her wide butt up into the front.

  “Just so you know,” Myra said, “she is not staying at my house.”

  There was a shriek, a growl, and the Jeep rocked on its wheels as Xtelle scrambled over the front seat and landed with a thump in the back. A little pink snout pressed against the side window and smoke fogged the glass.

  “She can’t stay at mine.” I thumbed toward the car. “Dragon pig.”

  Myra nodded. “Reasonable. So, Jean?”

  I grinned. “Oh, yeah. Totally Jean.” I gave Myra the clipboard, and she tucked it under her arm.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” she said.

  “Why isn’t Bathin going with you to the derby meeting?”

  “One, he’s not attached at my hip.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Two, we have our own hobbies, thank you.”

  “He’s afraid to leave Ordinary, isn’t he?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “H
e’s still hiding. And not from his mother.”

  The headache spiked for a second, and I rubbed at my forehead. “I know. His father.”

  “Did Tala say anything else about that?”

  “No. Maybe she’ll say more when she’s in town.”

  “I like how optimistic you’ve become,” she said with a grin.

  “That’s me. All hope and butterflies.”

  She lifted the clipboard in a salute. The Jeep rocked again, and a quiet roar cut a shriek short.

  “Good luck with that,” she said, nodding toward my car.

  “Could I interest you in an annoying demon?”

  She laughed. “Nope. I’ve got one of my own.”

  “Yeah, but you kind of love the guy.”

  She waved over her shoulder and swung into the cruiser.

  I took a deep breath and opened the Jeep’s driver side door.

  “Delaney, that thing—”

  “Not a word.”

  “But it—”

  “Nope.”

  “You can’t—”

  “What I could do is let you walk to Ordinary. It’s only about thirty miles or so. A little pony like you should make it there by nightfall.”

  “I—”

  I held up a finger and fixed her with a look in the rearview mirror. “Thirty miles, Xtelle.”

  Her eyes welled up with tears, and her big horsey lips quivered.

  I didn’t blink.

  “Oh, fine,” she said, the tears instantly dry. She threw her head back in a position I didn’t think a real pony could have managed and wriggled down into the seats, crossing her stubby arms over her chest.

  “I’ll just sit here silently and suffer the presence of that…that…thing, even though there are no seat warmers.”

  The dragon pig was paying zero attention to the drama queen in the back seat. I thought I should take a cue from it.

  “You good?” I asked it.

  It grunted once and propped front feet up on the door handle so it could see out the window. It oinked again and wagged its tiny curly tail.

  “All right then. Let’s get this pig and pony show on the road.”

  The dragon pig squeaked, the demon pony scoffed.

  “Fine. Let’s get this dragon and demon show on the road.” They both made agreeable sounds. I rolled my eyes and headed back to Ordinary.

  Chapter Five

  Jean was not at work.

  “Is there a reason you have another pony in the back of your Jeep?” Hatter, a cop we’d poached from Tillamook, had that long and lean cowboy thing going for him. He liked to talk with a bit of an accent that moseyed between Texas and Kentucky. I was pretty sure it was completely fake.

  He held the station door open for me while I walked through and bent, putting the dragon pig down on the floor.

  “It’s Xtelle.”

  The dragon pig trotted adorably to my desk where it rooted around in my trash can, looking for tasty metal.

  From the little squeak it gave, I figured it had found the coffee can I’d tossed in there for just this very thing. I grinned.

  “The demon again?” Hatter glanced over his shoulder. “I thought we threw her out for good last month.”

  “She just threw herself back in. Signed the contract and everything.”

  “Oh-kay,” he said, the word stretching like molasses. “So our demon population just doubled. How do you want us to handle that?”

  “First, we find someone to foster her. She’s a pony. She can’t just wander through town ordering fancy cocktails and buying knock-off designer bags without drawing attention.”

  “Plus that would break the rules. Ponies don’t do that in the outside world, so ‘ponies’ don’t do that inside Ordinary,” he said.

  He strolled behind the counter, scanned the phone system, which was quiet, then sat in Roy’s chair and put his feet up on the desk.

  It was still strange for Roy not to be at the desk. His big, steady presence had left a hole in the department, though Shoe, Hatter, and our newest reserve officers, Kelby and Than, had done a lot to fill his place in their own way.

  “Yep, but she gets the three-strikes we give to every other supernatural who tries living among mortals and gods for the first time.” I walked back to the little table in the hall where we kept our coffee and poured myself a cup that looked like it’d been on the burner since Christmas.

  “You know she’s going to be trouble,” he said.

  I blew across the coffee then took a small sip. Tar. Tar would be thinner. And tastier. I took a second sip anyway, because I had the feeling it was going to be a long day.

  “Sure,” I said. “But she’s not going to be my trouble. At least not until she has to be.”

  “You know I’m no good with pets, Boss. Or horses. Or demons.”

  “You say that, but I haven’t seen any proof.”

  He pulled his boots, one at a time, off the desk and gave me a narrow look. “You wouldn’t.”

  I shrugged. “I’m going to foist her off on Jean, since she wriggled out of helping Bertie with…well, with everything. I think it’s time she pitches in with something more strenuous than beating her boyfriend at video games.”

  “Good. Yes, that’s smart thinking, Chief. She’s at Hogan’s bakery.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s always there this time of day if she’s not on duty.”

  I tipped the coffee cup in thanks, then took it into the bathroom and poured it down the sink. Hogan had better coffee anyway.

  “…Bertie wants to talk to you,” Hatter said as I came back down the hall.

  “Why? Who does she want to rope into volunteering this time?”

  “Shoe. Which is a damn shame, because that man could not keep his fingers off a sweet if it was rolled in rat poison. But that’s not what I was talking about.”

  “All right, what’s up with our one and only local Valkyrie?” I tugged the stapler out of the dragon pig’s mouth, wiped the ash off it, and returned it to my desk. “Bad dragon pig. You’re going to spoil your appetite for dinner. We have a nice park bench you can demolish.”

  The dragon pig made squeaky, chew-toy sounds and scratched its little butt against the corner of my desk.

  “Robbery,” Hatter said.

  I straightened. “She stole something?” At his look, I amended, “Someone stole something from Bertie? Our Bertie?” Just the idea of it was staggering.

  She might look like a little old lady, but I’d seen her “accidentally” stab the mailman with her apple knife when she thought he’d left her mailbox open in the rain.

  “She came in and made an official report and everything.”

  He dug around in the paper on the desk, leaned back, and offered a sheet to me.

  I scanned it. “A feather. She’s reporting a missing feather.”

  “Yup. Says it’s important to her. Capital F Feather important. Large, too, ‘bout yea big.” His hands marked off three feet or so.

  “Pearl, opal, diamond dust, and gold,” I recited. “Was it locked up?”

  “It was on a shelf in her office. Out in the open. You’ve seen it.”

  I frowned. Had I?

  I’d been to her office two days ago, when she’d informed me she was going to invite some new businesses from outside Ordinary to show their wares at the High Tea Tide. She’d, of course, already done all that, but she still filled me in like it was news just the same.

  I pulled up an image of her office in my mind. Big wooden desk in the center of the room, shelves behind her, windows to the sides. Her chair wide at the head and cushioned. Two visitor chairs, plain dark wood.

  Her nest was made to be comfortable for her, which meant it was set up so she could shove visitors out the door when she got tired of them.

  Her desk had all the normal things one would expect of someone who kept the town busy with outreach and events—computer, pen holder, stapler, a little hourglass on a swivel.

  Behind
her were a scattering of certificates and awards in gold frames.

  I thought about the shelves. Had I seen a big sparkly Feather?

  My headache cranked down again. I stuck my thumb against my temple and pressed.

  Yes. I remembered now. She’d walked out of the room to deal with a delivery, and I’d gotten up to stretch my legs.

  I’d seen the Feather. Hatter was right. It was long, sparkling, and beautiful. She’d set it on the shelf with other little items, all of them special, but none of them looking particularly valuable.

  The Feather was pretty but didn’t seem more valuable than the gold-and-jewel-encrusted trinket box, or the carved crystal falcon in flight, or the antique, filigreed silver sewing kit.

  “Chief?”

  “Yeah,” I said, shaking out of my mental drift, the headache receding. “I saw it on her shelf Tuesday. When did she notice it missing?”

  “Yesterday. She said the High Tea Tide has kept her busy until now. Wants you to call her when you get the chance.”

  “All right. One thing at a time. I’ll track down Jean and offload the demon. Let me know if you get any leads on the Feather.”

  He gave me that quick grin. “Got it, Chief.”

  I pulled out my phone and texted Jean. Where you at?

  Her reply was quick. Day off, rembr?

  You at home? I have something for you.

  No

  It’s a present.

  No

  I waited for her curiosity to get the better of her.

  Hogan’s shop. What is it?

  Bingo.

  Be right there.

  This better not be work. I have 2 days off, D. TWO

  I thumbed the screen and picked up the dragon pig who was sniffing the desk lamp cord.

  “Let’s go, buddy. Keep me in the loop, Hatter.”

  “Can do, Boss.” The phone rang and he picked it up just as I left the station, the door swinging shut behind me to cover the conversation, which from first blush sounded like it had something to do with a sea lion and a bathtub.

  Hogan’s bakery, the Puffin Muffin, was just a couple minutes away. In just a few minutes I’d be rid of the demon and have a couple interesting cases to take up my time.

  Suddenly the whole day seemed brighter. I whistled a little tune as I strolled across the parking lot to my Jeep.