Of course it had to be Lis watching me. Who else could pull off unsettling vine haired gargoyle daubed in pitch black so well? Still, so rarely did she actually drop the chatty woman act that whenever she behaved like a genuine Devil it sent shivers down my spine. Again my ears rang.
...Could I have known? To think…
…your area of expertise, smooth talking grandpa?
...Part of something so momentous, devilish Ms.--
He’s up.
Up? Who, me? How long have I been down? I raised a hand up from between the sheets and grasped for an arm or a sleeve or a lock of hair, and when I felt something I gripped it hard.
“Do you get off staring at me or something?” I demanded.
My eyes came into focus. A sterile white room formed around me. The rhythmic tick of a clock filled the empty room.
“Charles,” a kindly voice spoke out. “As glad as I am that my newest aspiring warlock is back among the living, I must inform you that you’re about to shatter my wrist.”
“Phil,” I said, blinking bleariness out of my eyes. I sat up, releasing my grip on the well dressed old man. “What are you doing here? Where even is here?”
“Nine Towers. ‘Hospital’ wing,” the old man said. “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s terribly improper for an Archmagister to visit a newly assigned warlock, but what can I say? You left quite the impression on me after that entrance exam.”
I smiled weakly. “Don’t take this the wrong way Phil, but, you’re not lying to me are you?”
The Demonologist frowned. “What gives you that impression?”
“Because, it sounded like you met my little secret.”
Philestos rubbed his eyes and let out a long tired sigh before nodding. “That I did.”
“I don’t think Lisistrathiel is an immediate danger to me. It’s not like she’s waiting for me to sleep so she can devour my soul or something. So no need to keep watch,” I muttered.
The old man chuckled. “I’ve already figured out as much. Actually I’m more interested in talking to you than standing guard.”
“What about?”
“Well, why don’t I play the doctor for a second and give you your diagnosis first,” Philestos Swanquill spoke. “The verdict is in. You’ve acquired a very impressive infection from one of the skeletal fiends in the Corvin crypts. Common occurrence when fighting the undead. Your body just reacted poorly to it, which led to fever and an eventual loss of consciousness.”
“Awesome. Don’t let Fran zombify me if I die,” I said.
“Your sense of humor seems intact at least,” came his reply. “Good. Now let’s get down to work. I have a few questions before I let you get some rest.”
I didn’t really know how exhausted I was until he said the word ‘rest’. The fever heat on my forehead was almost enough to knock me out right then and there.
“Full name is Charles Montgomery Locke, correct?”
“Last time I checked.”
“Paperwork is important. Be thankful I’m doing this for you and leave the sarcasm at the door,” Phil replied.
“Thank… fulness?” I slowly pronounced the word. “Never heard of it.”
The Lord Demonologist groaned, “Age?”
“Barely Eighteen.”
“Family connections?” He continued. “I’ll need to produce excuses and official looking documents to--”
“No family connections.”
Phil’s pen paused on the paper. “Dead?”
“As good as. Me to them. Them to me. Take your pick,” I said.
Phil nodded, a glint of something in his eyes. “That makes things easier, I suppose.”
“Always has,” I replied.
“Your physical was quite impressive. Magical aptitude results however remain--”
Awful. Miserable. Tragic. Lamentable. Execrable.
“Well aware,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Not to pour salt on the wound.”
“I’m salty enough as it is,” I replied.
“Focus preference?”
“Wand.”
“Most gentlemen go with staffs for superior sustain.”
“Need the enhancing effects wands offer to beef up my crap magic. What’s the point of sustaining minimal talents?”
“Sound thinking. I agree. Right, that’s all,” Phil said folding the piece of paper and placing it in his vest pocket. He loves his lawyer suits. “Questions?”
“Where’s Lis?” I asked.
“Not here. I told angelic Ms. Devil to take a relaxing stroll while you got accommo--”
“How do I get rid of her?” I blurted out. “You’re the Lord Demonologist, aren’t you? Can’t she be banished? Tricked out of my soul? Beaten in a goddamn fiddle match? I have her name. If I repeat it three times do I gain control over her? Because it hasn’t worked so far and I’m at my wit’s end.”
A strange look overcame the old man. He refused to meet my eyes when he gave me his reply. “She’s not exactly the problem. It’s the manner of ‘deal’ you two managed to forge that will prove troublesome. It’s quite unconventional in my line of work.”
“Unconventional?”
“Listen, Charles. We’ve all done things in our lives that have been less than law abiding. Myself very much included,” he began, “I don’t know what kind of crowd you ran with or what sort of ritual you performed, but it must have been amateur, because the effects are most unusual.”
“I’m trapped in a cage with a tiger, aren’t I?” I whispered.
“Yes. And no. It’s an equivalent relationship. You’re not the victim here like the ritual likely intended. Instead you’re recognized as an equal opportunity partner. That’s why this Lisistrathiel of yours can’t interfere directly in your life unless you let her.”
“So I’m trapped in a cage with a tiger,” I insisted.
Philestos sighed. “That’s one way of looking at it. You can’t banish her since she’s not possessing you. Knowing her name is useless, if Lisistrathiel even is her true name. And I doubt you’ll be able to convince her by force or reason or trickery either.”
“So what can I do?” I asked.
Philestos grinned wickedly, rising up from his seat. “Take some advice from an old lawyer: Tigers, at the end of the day, are just really big house cats.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but comparing Lis to a house cat somehow took all the anxiety and sense of impending doom right out of me.
As he got up to leave, I raised a hand feebly to stop him. “Phil. Wait. Thank you.”
The Lord Demonologist paused. “For what?”
“For sponsoring me to be a warlock when no one else would. For giving a damn whether I lived or died. For giving an honest look at my uh, unique situation.”
“Stick with the wry humor Warlock Locke, this sudden bout of niceness doesn’t suit you. Just buy me a nice pair of shoes when you can get yourself vertical again. Now rest. That’s an order.”
“Sir yes sir,” I muttered.
I was out like a light before the door even closed behind him.
Chapter 37
The lights dimmed. Or grew brighter. I couldn’t quite tell, but what I did know for sure was that they were back. Her eyes. They were like full moons leering from on high. What the hell was so interesting about me sleeping anyways, Lis?
The eyes narrowed suddenly, hot smoky air washed over my face as a mouth full of needle-like teeth opened wide.
Lis?
My hands wouldn’t budge. I could barely turn my head. A forked tongue rolled out from behind the pinprick teeth and coiled around my neck, slowly suffocating me. Primal fear flooded my mind, and hopelessness came in on its heels.
No. I had to fight back. This might be what you want, Devil, but I’m not through with you just yet.
The full moon eyes and the booster shot needle teeth flinched at some unseen force, suddenly distracted. I saw my chance. Forcing my hand up, I clamped down on the monstro
us mouth closed. Vile teeth crumpled like brittle Autumn leaves. Wide eyes trembled in fear as I tightened my grip.
“See,” I heard a familiar voice say. “I can’t even leave you alone for a two minute phone call.”
In an instant, reality sprung up around me. Lis stood at a door, midday light and the chill winter wind streaming in around her. Flanking her form, rustic logs and bits of ancient insulation came together to form a rundown cabin.
“Lis?” I asked breathlessly.
“If you squeeze any harder you’re gonna kill it,” she said, motioning to my right.
I looked. Where I thought I’d caught Lis, mouth full of needle sharp teeth, instead there trembled a wiry Supernatural. Beady eyes and rough brittle skin, it was clothed in positively medieval house wife garb and didn’t look much bigger than the Fairy I had caught earlier. Most of its nose had crumbled off its face from where I’d caught it in a death grip.
“What is--”
“Kikimora, also known as Maras in some places. Harmless, if you’re not asleep,” Lis declared, leaning down to inspect the creature. “And one audacious night haunt at that. Didn’t you see me bring him in? Didn’t you assume that messing with Charlie would make me somewhat upset?”
Her last two words came in a deep and terrible voice. Enough to make me shudder. I slowly released my grip on the trembling Kikimora. As soon as she could, the Supernatural tore away from me with a yelp, flinging itself behind an ancient metal stove in a cobwebbed corner of the cabin.
“It’s a house spirit. Not quite as nice as a Domovoi,” Lis said. “They like to stake out isolated homes and then terrorize inhabitants with bad dreams, sleep paralysis, and other mean pranks.”
“Learned that paralysis part hands on, thanks,” I replied. “Where am I? This isn’t another confusing dream is it?”
“Can’t be, Charlie. Otherwise I’d never be wearing all these clothes.”
“That’s not a good metric for judgment. Pinch me or something,” I muttered.
I wish I hadn’t. No sooner had the words left my mouth than a shooting pain flared up the side of my arm. Man that girl could pinch.
“Son of a bitch!”
“That didn’t sound like a thank you at all,” Lis replied.
“I’m used to you being a pain in my ass, not my arm. Now where the hell am I?” I said through clenched teeth.
“About an eight second drop plus a ten minute trudge through thigh high snow from where we last chatted,” Lis said. “Great job by the way, you very nearly gave up your ghost with that stunt. I was this close to getting to keep your soul. Forever.”
“What can I say Lis,” I began, a smug grin pulling at the edge of my lips, “The thought of disappointing you again and again by narrowly surviving impossible odds is my fetish.”
“I thought getting walked all over by me was your fetish,” Lis replied.
“Don’t start. Any injuries?”
“Just my broken heart. Oh, you mean yours? Goodness let me get the list. Minor concussion, lacerated leg, two pints of lost blood, a hair line fracture in your left arm, bruising over most of your back from the fall, extreme predisposition towards paranoid thoughts from before… and plenty of other stuff that ought to confine you to a hospital bed for at least a month,” she said.
“I’ve got some bad news for you then,” I said, sitting up with a groan. “I don’t have any time to be lying down.”
Lis shrugged, pulling up a chair and sitting down at my bed side. “Charlie, nothing in the world would make me happier than for you to continue risking your life while in increasingly poor states of health. Just means you’re more likely to die, which is what I so desperately want given our little game. Remember?”
A shudder washed over me. My instincts flared up. My lips formed words on their own.
“That’s a lie.”
Jagged eyebrows perked high. “Wow Charlie. And so soon after your last very wrong guess? Paranoia not enough of a handicap?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. It wasn’t the Kikimora that dragged me over to this cabin. And I doubt there was a fire already going in this abandoned shack when I got here,” I said, pointing to the cozy fireplace radiating heat. “Not to mention you were also the one that distracted that thing enough for me to break free from the nightmare it created. You’re not eagerly waiting for me to get myself killed. In fact, you’re pretty upset that I nearly died.”
My heartbeat quickened, my eyes narrowed.
“Aren’t you?” I pressed.
Chapter 38
Molten eyes trembled with an emotion I couldn’t recognize, gone almost as soon as I noticed it.
Lisistrathiel shrugged her shoulders. “All right Charlie, I admit it, I confess, this was indeed round two. You even guessed that I’m a little bit nonplussed by your recklessness. Impressive. That means the scoreboard is at one and one and I officially owe you a boon.”
I barely heard a word she said. My mind was going a mile a minute in a completely different direction, “You saved me. You admit it. Out of the goodness of your heart. Because you wanted to. Because you wanted me to not freeze after getting beaten half to death by a tree that’s been watered by one too many energy drinks,” I said.
This was it. An act of true selflessness. I had her right where I wanted her. She even admitted it. Now all I had to do was ask her to repent her sins and at last be--
“I saved you cause of interference, actually.”
“Interference?” I asked. “Whose?”
“My own. Back on the cliff,” Lis said, letting out a sigh. “I suppose I ought to confirm with you before jumping to conclusions though. Charlie, why precisely did you go out of your way to throw me onto the cliff side when you could very easily have leaped to safety yourself? I’m really quite curious.”
The lighthearted tone she spoke the words in didn’t match their weight. Something about her question felt ominous, but I couldn’t back down. This might be my only chance.
“Because Lis. I can take a fall better than you can,” I answered honestly.
“Can you?”
“Yes. Look, there’s no need to keep up the act. I already know the truth about you.”
Jagged eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. “Do you?”
“How could I not? When you fought the False Angel, you must have been a hair’s breadth from getting killed at least a dozen times.”
“And what relevance does that have with the here and now?” Lis asked.
I raised my finger to her cheek and pressed an almost unnoticeable scab. Where Lis had been cut. Where she bled like any other Joe in the streets. It caught her completely off guard.
“It’s relevant because you’re not omnipotent. You’re not even immortal. For God’s sake, you’re a fragile creature and the slightest misstep is going to lead you to a swift and messy end. If nothing else I can at least take a beating like a champ, so of course I saved your fragile ass before I thought to save mine.”
Thinking back on it, I probably should have caught the warning signs sooner.
Lis slapped my hand away from her cheek. Hard. Eyes widening, jaw clenching, her expression hardened into a perfect poker face. She looked so serene and peaceful in fact that it took me a second to realize that this was probably the face Lisistrathiel made whenever she got really, truly, pissed off.
“Charles Montgomery Locke,” she said in a tone lethal enough to kill small animals, “I believe there’s been a slight misunderstanding between us, so I’m going to speak plainly for just a second here.”
Eyes of molten bronze glared down on me as she leaned forward. Black silken hair coiled upon my arm like a knot of serpents. The scent of apple shampoo filled my nostrils to the brim. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.
“My well being is no concern of yours. Not now. Not ever. Do not include me in your survival plans ever again.”
Just like that, it was over. The next thing I knew she was sitting back in her chair with one long luscious
leg crossed over the other closely examining her fingernails. I was half tempted to ask her to pinch me again. What the hell just happened?
“Lisistrathiel,” I began, slowly. “Wh--”
“That reminds me,” she cut me off. “You guessed right, didn’t you? About my deception. That means you get a boon. So what does dear Charlie want as a reward?”
I’d almost completely forgotten. I could ask her any question I wanted, about the Lord Illusionist, about the False Angel, I could probably even ask her why she kept changing the subject on me. But I had to be careful. I had to play it conservatively.
Asking about the Lord Illusionist was a no. What’s the point of a hot lead when my mind was crawling with doubt like a nest of scorpions? And I doubt I’d have the power to do anything about the Angel of Death even if I knew everything about him. That just left…
A sudden idea flared to life in my mind. I turned to Lis.
“Just thought of something, huh?” she asked.
“Yeah. Undo the paranoia.”
Lis blinked, a sharp grin suddenly split her face in half. “Hadn’t thought of that one Charlie. Sure, I’ll let you undo your first little mess up. This way round three will be the tie breaker.”
She leaned towards me and traced a circle in the air with a finger. Without even looking she drew strange symbols at precise locations in the air, then poked her nail through the circle center and into the tip of my nose.
No pain. Just a droplet of blood.
“Feeling better?”
I took a second before slowly nodding. My mind was clearing up. At least enough to realize she’d changed the subject on me.
“Much better. Thanks Lis.”
“You’re welcome Charlie. Just don’t forget our little chat. Promise?”
I frowned. “I doubt I could ever forget something like that.”
It’d be a cold day in Hell before she could stop me from acting on it though. I had to rethink my strategy. I had to plan. What exactly pissed Lis off so much to get her to actually give me a straight warning like that? I thought she was going to kill me.
Or give me the hottest sex of my life.
“Lis,” I said. “You mentioned earlier you dipped out for a quick cell call.”
Live and Let Lie Page 12
