A Witch's Work Is Never Done

by Kate Moseman

  “Raya.” He made a short bow in her direction.

  Phoenix scowled. The showoff. He chose his next words carefully, aiming for sincerity—or at least the semblance of it. “What can I do, Justinian, to make up for my error in judgment over two hundred years ago?” Angels, the world champion grudge-holders.

  The light of the sword flickered in Justinian’s eyes. “How much does she know?”

  “Who, Raya?” Phoenix allowed himself a small smile. “Some. Not everything. But you can speak freely.”

  “What do you mean, I don’t know everything?”

  “I should think that was obvious.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  Justinian observed the exchange. “Are you two finished with—whatever that was?”

  “Quite,” said Phoenix. He glared at Raya, who smiled and made a rude gesture at him out of Justinian’s line of sight.

  “There is something you can do for me.” Justinian picked up a book, riffled the pages absently, and replaced it. “I want you to find God.”

  Raya leaned over so far she nearly fell off her seat. “What?”

  “That’s impossible.” Phoenix ran his hand through his hair. “No one knows where they are.”

  “They?” Raya looked utterly baffled. “They who?”

  Phoenix gave Justinian a shall-I-tell-her-or-shall-you look.

  Justinian shrugged.

  Phoenix sighed. “Our respective bosses. God. Lucifer. We don’t know where they are.”

  Raya pointed up with one hand and down with the other. “Heaven? Hell?”

  “That’s the problem.” Justinian gestured with one powerful hand. “We don’t know where those are, either.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Raya’s voice veered into high-pitched disbelief.

  “It is not well-known among mortals,” Justinian said.

  Raya shook her head as if clearing it. “Wait—how do you not know where heaven and hell are?”

  “Ask any angel, or demon, what they remember before coming to awareness on this mortal earth. Unless they’re lying, they’ll tell you they remember nothing.”

  Raya looked to Justinian for confirmation.

  He nodded.

  “Nothing? Really?” said Raya.

  “Nothing,” said Phoenix.

  “How did you know what to do?”

  “I knew my name, my rank, and my mission. Nothing more.”

  Raya’s eyes were very round. “Like an amnesia victim.”

  Justinian pulled the sword from the grate and swung it through the air. “We fulfilled our duties. We fought, wrestling for the souls of mankind.” He replaced the sword in its holder. “But the years weighed heavily upon us. Angels and demons alike withdrew from the battle until only a handful remained.”

  Phoenix smirked. “Mostly because none of us knew what the point was anymore. Humans certainly didn’t need help sinning—and once they really got going, they didn’t want an angel telling them to stop. Am I right, Justinian?”

  “You are right, demon.”

  “In that sense, you were right, Raya, when you called demons a bunch of pleasure-seeking dilettantes. We are.” Phoenix got up and picked up a dusty bottle from the rack. He blew the dust away and examined the label. “I partied myself into oblivion. Others, like my friend Andromalius, played at being human.”

  “So did Justine,” said Raya.

  Phoenix put the bottle back in the rack. “Exactly.”

  “I hid from the world.” Justinian’s face took on a doleful look.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, mate. We did what we had to do to stay sane. Well, sane enough, anyway.”

  “If you will help, and Justine, perhaps we can find our purpose again.” Justinian’s hopeful expression reminded Phoenix of a dog wanting to play fetch.

  Phoenix had zero interest in finding a purpose, especially if it involved work, but there was a tiny part of him that felt sorry for Justinian. “I’m sure we can. You’ll be basking in glory in no time. By the way, is there a reason you stopped wearing your angelic warrior getup?” Phoenix glanced around the room as if there might be a long wig, a robe, and sandals hidden in a corner.

  “It did not suit me anymore. This”—he gestured to his clothing—“is not out of place among the cataphiles—the explorers who visit the caves. I talk to them, sometimes.”

  Phoenix patted him on the back. It felt like patting a tree trunk.

  He looked at Phoenix with a new gleam in his eye. “Maybe I should change now, if we are going to go searching for the deity.”

  Phoenix and Raya exchanged alarmed glances.

  Phoenix cleared his throat. “Soon. Very soon. We’ll get right on that, only—” Having boxed himself into a corner, he looked to Raya.

  Raya stood. “Only we need to remove a threat to Phoenix—and the rest of the demons—first.”

  26

  Phoenix gravitated to the bottle rack and held another bottle up to the light. “Madeira,” he murmured. “Hey, Justinian—can I crack one of these open?”

  Justinian took the bottle from his hands. “Very old. Very delicate. You would not appreciate the nuances.” He cradled it like a baby.

  “I beg your pardon. I have been tasting wines practically since wine was invented. Ask Raya.”

  Raya rolled her eyes. “Oh, he drinks a lot, I’m sure.”

  Phoenix put his hands on his hips. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

  Justinian carefully set the bottle on the stone table. “On the other hand, it has been a while. I have not shared a drink with anyone in a—”

  “Very long time,” Phoenix finished. “Well, then—no time like the present.” He rubbed his hands together. “Got a corkscrew?”

  “No.” Justinian looked around as if one might suddenly reveal itself.

  “Use the sword,” said Raya.

  Justinian blinked. “I suppose … ”

  “Brilliant.” Phoenix reached for the flaming weapon, but Justinian blocked him with a powerful arm.

  “I will do it.” He drew the sword from the grate, then picked up the bottle, holding it at an angle, and struck the neck. The top went flying and clattered out of sight. He handed Raya the bottle. “Be careful. The opening is sharp.”

  Raya sniffed the contents. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “It is safe.”

  Raya tipped the bottle and swallowed a sip of the liquid. She coughed. “It’s strong, but—wow!”

  Phoenix took it. “Mortals are paying thousands of dollars per sip for something like this. Let’s see how it holds up.” He drank. Notes of apricot, pipe tobacco, and rose petals filled his senses, sending his thoughts to the far past when the wine might have been bottled. “Bloody hell—this is sublime.” His gaze locked with Raya’s, and his next thought, irrationally, was to kiss her.

  She looked away, but a light blush glowed from her cheeks.

  Justinian took the bottle and drank. “Ah! The good old days.” He sat down. “Now tell me of your great threat.” For the first time—possibly ever—his eyes twinkled with something close to mirth.

  “My dear Witchiepoo, here, got mixed up with a witch who decided it would be a good idea to capture all of the demons in Paris for his personal use.”

  Justinian eyed Raya. “You have strange taste in friends.”

  “He’s not my friend. We were working together in the forest of Fontainebleau. He and another witch needed a third to draw from a source of power they couldn’t handle on their own.”

  The angel raised his eyebrows. “So? This is what witches do, is it not?”

  “I didn’t know quite how much power they were talking about until I was in the thick of it, and it was too late to stop.”

  Phoenix held his hand out for the bottle. “I went after the
witch, but he overpowered me—in a dream, mind you.”

  Justinian handed it to him. “Why did you go after him? That was foolish, even for you.” He glanced at Raya. “Were you jealous?”

  Phoenix nearly spat his mouthful of vintage Madeira on the floor. “What—” he sputtered.

  Justinian displayed an innocent countenance. “Just trying to understand. Go on.”

  Raya picked up the thread of the story. “The witch—Nathan—turned Phoenix into a cat, promising he would find him and bind him as soon as he could. And that he would come after the other demons, too. That he knew where they were.”

  Justinian looked at Phoenix. “You were all together?”

  “We had a hangout, yes. Cosmo’s bar.”

  “That’s a name I haven’t heard in—”

  “A very long time,” finished Phoenix.

  The angel rubbed his hands over his bald head. “It is lonely for us, sometimes.”

  Phoenix and Raya looked at each other, then looked at Justinian again.

  “This is an imbalance, Justinian. Surely you can see that. It’s like”—Phoenix paused as he searched for a proper metaphor—“the branches of government. Checks and balances. Witches, angels, demons. No one gets too powerful for their own good and puts the rest of us in jeopardy.”

  “You want me to use the sword to take his power away?”

  “You can stay here if you want to. Just lend me the sword.”

  Justinian laughed, a deep belly laugh that sounded like it came from the bottom of a whisky barrel. “Lend you the sword?” He slapped his knee and doubled over.

  Raya covered a smile.

  Great. The angel would make a fool of him in front of Raya. “I promised I’d help you find God—”

  Justinian sat up and wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to mock you. But surely you can see—” His chest shook as he suppressed another laugh.

  “You know as well as I do a witch can’t just take power from another witch, but—fine.” Phoenix downed another swig. “Keep your flaming sword and leave your fellow supernatural beings to rot.”

  Justinian’s face went from angelic mirth to gathering storm clouds in an instant. “Are you questioning my honor?”

  Phoenix debated whether to push his buttons or back down. It was too late to back down. “What honor?”

  The angel bounded out of his seat with a roar. He seized the sword and swung it over his head before aiming it squarely at Phoenix’s chest. “Never question my honor!”

  Raya made as if to intervene, but Phoenix held her off with a subtle gesture. “I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood what you said.”

  Justinian stared at him down the length of the sword. “You did?”

  “I thought you meant you wouldn’t help us. You only meant that you had to come with us, didn’t you?” Phoenix smiled encouragingly, only half convinced the angel would fall for it.

  The sword dipped as Justinian thought this through. “Yes, of course. That is what I meant. I will come with you.” He lowered the sword and looked confused.

  “Wonderful!” Phoenix clapped his hands together, then pointed to an unopened bottle. “Do you mind if I take one of these to go?”

  They emerged from the caverns to find Justine keeping watch on the entrance. She gasped and ran forward, throwing her arms around Justinian.

  He hugged her and patted her back. “It’s been a long time, sister.”

  She pulled back and held him at arm’s length to look at him before folding him into another embrace. “Too long!”

  Raya pressed her hand to her heart as she watched the angels reunite. “Apart for so long … ”

  Phoenix shifted uncomfortably. “But they’re together now—isn’t that what matters?”

  “Why would anyone waste so much time?” she murmured.

  Phoenix didn’t blink. He just raised one eyebrow. “Why, indeed.”

  27

  Raya adjusted her sunglasses and leaned back in the outdoor cafe chair. “I still think this is a monumentally stupid idea.”

  Phoenix tipped his sunglasses down and looked at her. “And yet—here you are.” He slid the sunglasses back into place with a graceful push of his finger.

  “We’re like sitting ducks.” Raya stuck out her bottom lip in a diminutive pout.

  “If you have a better plan for talking to Lizzy—without Nathan—I’d like to hear it.”

  “She’s sensitive, Phoenix. You don’t think she’ll see us coming from a mile away?”

  “Hopefully, she’s as curious as she is sensitive.”

  Raya made a sound of disbelief. Her gaze traveled across the sidewalk opposite the cafe to the entrance of the hotel where both Nathan and Lizzy stayed. “Hopefully, we’ll get lucky and he won’t come with her.”

  “You said yourself he’s not interested in her.”

  “He’s not. But they still work together.”

  They lapsed into silence, occasionally ordering more coffee in order to keep the table and its excellent view of the hotel doors.

  Phoenix glanced up and smiled to himself. “Jackpot. Don’t look now, but I think we have our quarry. Alone.”

  Raya nonchalantly turned to look. “It’s her.”

  Lizzy, dressed to the nines in a color-coordinated summer outfit complete with hat, sunglasses, and fashionable straw bag, strolled casually away from the hotel.

  Phoenix quickly piled a few bills on the table.

  Raya stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I wonder where she’s going. Shopping, maybe?”

  “Who knows.” Phoenix stood and checked the street one more time, making sure Nathan wasn’t in the vicinity. “Let’s go.”

  They trailed Lizzy along the boulevard, hanging back as she stopped to peek in more than one shop window.

  Lizzy hailed a cab.

  “Now what?” said Raya.

  “Haven’t you always wanted to say ‘Follow that car’?” Phoenix flagged down a cab.

  Raya made a face. “No.”

  “Fine. I’ll say it—in French. Now hurry up and get in.”

  Their cab followed Lizzy’s down a wide, tree-lined boulevard, past a circular roundabout, and into a deeply forested area.

  Raya read the sign aloud. “Bois de Boulogne.”

  “Our Lizzy’s going for a stroll in the park.” Phoenix noted where Lizzy entered the park, then instructed the cab driver to take them a short distance past that point. They would double back and find her.

  They stepped out of the cab and followed a footpath into the forest.

  Raya shaded her eyes and looked down the path. “Chances are she already knows we’re here.”

  “Then that will make it easy to find her, won’t it?”

  The path opened up at a formal garden centered around an old and graceful pagoda. Stately peacocks strolled the lawns, occasionally opening their tails in great fans of colorful plumage that glowed in the sun.

  Raya spotted Lizzy first. “There she is!” She pointed across the lawn to an ornate rose garden.

  Lizzy leaned down to the roses, burying her nose in the petals.

  They crossed and approached her.

  “Lizzy?”

  “Raya! I knew you were around somewhere.” Lizzy looked Phoenix up and down. “Is this your demon?”

  Phoenix drew himself up. “I’m not her demon.”

  Lizzy’s face was the picture of polite incomprehension.

  Raya laid a warning hand on Phoenix’s arm. “He’s not mine—well, not in that sense.”

  If someone had hit him with a rose petal, he would have keeled over on the spot. In what sense, exactly, was he hers? “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. Phoenix.” He held out his hand.

  Lizzy shook it and giggled. “Pleased to make your ac
quaintance.”

  “Anyway, Lizzy—could we talk to you for a minute? Somewhere more private?”

  Lizzy pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How exciting!” She followed them off the footpath and onto the lawn, then squealed and came to a stop. “My shoes!” The high heels of her sandals sank into the turf, leaving deep divots. She tugged them off and carried them by the straps as she walked.

  They withdrew to a small, secluded clearing behind the pagoda.

  Lizzy sat on the lawn and drew her legs to the side, her bare feet nestled in the green grass. “What’s the scoop?”

  Raya examined the ground before carefully lowering herself to sit. “Has Nathan told you anything else about his ‘hush-hush’ plan?”

  Before Lizzy could answer, the trees around the clearing bent in a sudden wind that sent leaves swirling through the air.

  Phoenix turned in a slow circle, looking for the source of the disturbance.

  He looked straight up and found it.

  Justinian, who had apparently decided to revert to his gleaming white robes and leather gladiator sandals—but not his formerly flowing tresses—dropped out of the sky in a blinding corona of white light, brandishing his flaming sword like a maniac. The displaced air of his landing generated a localized thunderclap to accompany his bellow of “Fear not!” as his sandals hit the grass.

  Lizzy dropped sideways in a faint.

  “What the hell are you doing here? You were supposed to be waiting with Justine! Now look what you’ve done.” Phoenix gestured to Lizzy, who lay sprawled on the grass.

  Justinian’s taut posture collapsed into a chagrined slouch, and his blazing light disappeared. “I did not mean to.”

  “Hollering ‘Fear not!’ like an idiot.” Phoenix rolled his eyes in disgust. “What did you think would happen?” He looked Justinian up and down. “And what possessed you to dress up like that—and then leave out the hair?”

  Justinian rubbed his head. “I like the bald look.”

  Raya chafed Lizzy’s hands, to no avail. “She’s out.”

  “Let me. It was my fault.” Justinian set his sword aside and knelt beside Lizzy. He placed a large hand with surprising gentleness on her forehead. “Wake, ma chérie. You are safe.”