Soul Mates

by Donald Hanley

  “Ooh, you shouldn’t have sent her that picture. Lilith says that women should always be treated with respect.”

  “She’s the one who sent it!”

  “She did? Wow, she’s really evil.” I would have felt a lot better about her revelation if she didn’t sound quite so envious.

  “Yes, she is,” I gritted. “Could you please call Mrs. Kendricks?”

  “Fine,” she sighed. She searched through my contacts. tapped the number, and then inspected the polish on her fingernails while she waited for an answer. “Mrs. Kendricks? No, it’s Susie. Peter wanted me to call you. No, he’s freaking out. Lilith sent a picture of him and Dara in bed to Melissa.”

  “What? That’s not what you’re supposed to say!” I snatched the phone back. “Mrs. Kendricks?”

  “Peter?” she said doubtfully. “What’s this about a picture?”

  “Forget about that! Lilith found Prescott’s familiar and used Mom to get him to come down to the shelter to claim it. They’re together now.”

  There was a long silence on the other end. “Ryan is with Lilith?”

  “Yes and they’re probably on their way over to the house right now! She’s going to turn Dara over to him!”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she protested. “Why would Ryan believe her? Even after she passed muster last night, he’s still suspicious of her. He’d think it was a trap.”

  “She’s very persuasive.”

  “That shouldn’t matter. Ryan’s wards are better than mine, she wouldn’t be able to influence him. Actually, that’s all moot, isn’t it? She’s human now, she doesn’t have any demonic powers.”

  “That hasn’t slowed her down at all, believe me. Regardless, he’ll still check out her story, won’t he?”

  Mrs. Kendricks thought that over. “Yes,” she said, “he probably would. You should leave immediately.”

  “We’re already on the way over to you. Is the ritual ready?”

  “I’m still studying it. I’d planned on having Anastasia help with it but she’s up in Dallas with Todd at the moment. Susie and I can probably manage it alone but maybe I should ask Melissa to join us.”

  “Um, that might be a problem,” I said awkwardly. “Lilith convinced Melissa I was cheating on her with Dara and she’s a bit upset with me right now.”

  Mrs. Kendricks sighed heavily in my ear. “So she’s taken Melissa out of the picture and tricked Ryan into doing her dirty work for her. This is why we fight demons, Peter. They’re devious and evil.”

  “Except for Dara.” Mrs. Kendricks’ silence was telling. “So is the ritual going to work?” I pressed.

  “We’ll make it work,” she said, although she didn’t sound especially confident about that. “The Philosopher’s Stone should help provide some of the power we’ll need.”

  “Oh, um, that’s the other thing.”

  “What?” she asked carefully.

  “Lilith has the Stone.”

  The Mustang made it all the way down to the end of the block before Mrs. Kendricks said anything. “Let me get this straight. You fell asleep in Dara’s bed where Lilith couldn’t help but find you and left one of the most powerful and precious magical artifacts in the world out where she could steal it?”

  “Well, it sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.” I could easily imagine her rubbing her temples while resisting the urge to scream. “It doesn’t really matter, though, does it?” I asked hopefully. “She can’t use the Stone.”

  “No, but we bound Olivia’s soul to it, remember? Any witch who knows what to look for will be able to follow the trace back to Dara. Or any warlock,” she added pointedly.

  “And he’ll know to look for it because Lilith will tell him about it. Crap.” Now I wanted to rub my temples myself but I needed to keep at least one hand on the steering wheel. “What do we do now?”

  “Get over here as fast as possible. If we can break Dara’s bond with Olivia before they track her down, she can hide in the shadowed paths. And then,” she said, “we can try to talk Ryan out of killing her.”

  29

  Every animal with a nervous system feels pain. Pain lets you know that whatever you’re doing is causing a problem, so you might give serious consideration to not doing it anymore, or at least learn to do it properly. This sort of pain reminds you to use a mitt when taking the cookie sheet out of the oven, ease up a bit when you’ve been running too long, and lift heavy loads with your legs, not your back.

  Pain also tell you that something has gone terribly wrong and you should get it looked at. Broken bones, stomach cramps, and migraines all fit into this category. Both types of pain are essential to your survival and it’s rare to get through a week of regular living without experiencing pain of one sort or another.

  The question is, why does pain hurt so much? Surely our brains are capable of informing us that our arms are broken without leaving us writhing on the floor. Stubbed toes and paper cuts are hardly life-threatening conditions, so why do these always turn into extended cussing episodes? Are we just calibrated wrong or is life so easy and safe now that we haven’t built up the thick skins necessary to shrug off these minor bumps and bruises?

  I’d driven to the library so many times over the last couple of days I could probably do it with my eyes closed, except I needed them open to watch for Prescott’s SUV. None of the black vehicles we encountered had Louisiana plates but I couldn’t help but imagine him lurking around every corner, just lying in wait for us to pass by. It didn’t help that I drove the only cherry red Mustang in town. Even if Prescott hadn’t noticed it sitting in front of the house, Lilith knew what my car looked like and she’d gleefully point it out to him.

  We made it to the library undetected, though, and I parked in the back alley by the loading dock, hoping they weren’t expecting a delivery today. Another black cat watched us warily from atop the dumpster but it jumped down and scurried off when I opened my door. I wondered whether it was the same one we saw this morning or one of Mom’s clones.

  “Stay down,” I told Daraxandriel as she tried to sit upright. “Let’s make sure the coast is clear first.” She grumbled her displeasure but complied as I pulled out my phone and called Mrs. Kendricks. “We’re out back,” I told her when she answered.

  “No problems, I hope?” she asked.

  “None. Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’m going to be. I’ll let you in through the side door. I originally planned to use the room where we did Melissa’s initiation since it’s already blessed but there are too many people wandering around up here. We’ll have to use one of the storerooms downstairs.”

  “Is that going to work?” I asked doubtfully.

  “It’ll be a bit cramped but it’ll be fine. I’ll be right down.”

  “All right.” She hung up and I let my breath out slowly. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Susie got out and Daraxandriel extracted herself from the back seat, arching her back with a grimace. “Thou needs must acquire a larger conveyance, Peter Simon Collins, an we number more than two.”

  “I’ll get right on that. Come on.”

  We scurried along the wall single-file, with me in the front and Susie bringing up the rear. My attention was on the parking lot, keeping an eye out for any black SUVs screeching around the corner, so I was surprised when Daraxandriel gasped and grabbed my arm.

  “Peter Simon Collins!” she exclaimed in a frightened squeak. “A cat abides!”

  “Where?” I looked around but I didn’t spot any felines in the area until Daraxandriel pointed a shaky finger at a battered metal trashcan standing beside the side door. A pair of yellow-slitted eyes stared at us unblinkingly from behind the container. “Shoo,” I told it sternly. “Shoo! Go on, get out of here!” It ignored me with the sullen disdain perfected by its entire species. “There’s never a friendly ghost around when you need one,” I muttered. “Forget it, it’s just a cat. It can’t hurt you.”

  I grabbed Daraxandriel�
��s hand to pull her forward but she dug in her heels, shaking her head in vehement denial. Susie heaved a sigh and pointed her wand at the cat. “Fuge,” she intoned and it exploded with a muffled pop!

  All three of us stood there with our mouths hanging open. All that remained of the cat was a rapidly-dissipating smudge of greasy black smoke and the odor of rotten eggs. I was the first to find my voice as I turned on Susie.

  “What did you do?” I demanded.

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said. She tapped her wand against her palm like it was a malfunctioning toy with a loose connection. “It should have just run away.”

  “You just killed a cat!”

  Daraxandriel cautiously edged closer to the trashcan, wringing her tail between her hands, and peered down at the ground where the cat had been. “Nay, Peter Simon Collins,” she said uneasily. “Naught remains of its corpse, no blood and no bone. ‘Twas an imp she dispatched.” She stared back at me with her wide eyes glowing red with worry.

  “An imp?” I echoed incredulously. She nodded. “A real honest-to-goodness herald-the-arrival-of-a-demon-lord imp?” She nodded again. We both looked up at the sky but it remained clear and blue. “Maybe there was just the one,” I suggested hopefully.

  “Nay,” she insisted, shaking her head firmly. “What of the others we have seen this past day? What of those within? They assemble here for a purpose.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Susie asked peevishly. “Did I just detonate a cat or not? I’m good either way,” she added, “I just want to know for next time.”

  Daraxandriel and I both jumped when the door suddenly clattered and opened, revealing Mrs. Kendricks. She waved us in urgently. “Come on,” she told us. “We don’t have much time.” Then she paused and wrinkled her nose. “What is that awful smell?”

  “It was either a cat or an imp,” Susie informed her. “They’re not sure. Hey, there’s another one. Fuge!” She flicked her wand past my right ear and I turned just in time to see another black cat drop down behind the retaining wall. “Rats,” she grumbled, “it didn’t explode. Did I miss it or was that a real cat?”

  “Stop doing that!” I shoved her through the doorway past Mrs. Kendricks and pushed Daraxandriel after her. “Dara thinks there are imps disguised as cats out there.” I pulled the door closed and made sure the latch clicked.

  “Imps?” Mrs. Kendricks looked shocked. “Are you sure?” she asked Daraxandriel.

  “Who better than I to know the signs and portents of other demons?” she replied haughtily. “I am of their ilk and I –”

  “A simple yes will do,” Mrs. Kendricks told her testily. “We’re in a bit of a hurry at the moment. Down this way, the second door on the left.” She ushered us along a narrow corridor to a door labeled, simply, Supplies. “In here.”

  We found ourselves in a narrow room lined with open metal shelves stacked with an eclectic array of office supplies. The place was harshly lit by a fluorescent light fixture in the middle of the ceiling and it had a vaguely papery smell.

  “Peter, lock the door and make sure no one tries to come in,” Mrs. Kendricks ordered briskly. “Susie, you’re over there. Dara, lie down here.” She pointed at the floor between the shelves.

  “Is such truly necessary, Dame Kendricks?” Daraxandriel asked, eyeing the spot uneasily. “Whyfor must I recline when all others stand?”

  “Because I don’t want you falling over when I put you to sleep.”

  “Sleep?” she asked in alarm. “Whyfor?”

  “Dara, you’re going to have to trust me,” Mrs. Kendricks told her firmly. “Ryan and Lilith will be here any minute and these aren’t the best conditions for casting spells. If I have to explain the ritual to you, we won’t have time to complete it. All right?”

  Daraxandriel looked over at me and I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring nod, even though I was starting to have qualms about this whole plan. She let her breath out slowly and then she lay down on the scuffed linoleum, smoothing out her skirt before knotting her hands together on her stomach. Mrs. Kendricks nodded approvingly.

  “What do I do?” Susie asked.

  “Olivia should manifest once Dara’s asleep. You need to cut the demonic bond tying her to Dara. It’s similar to removing a compulsion or curse.”

  Susie shook her head. “I don’t know how to do either of those things.”

  Mrs. Kendricks stepped over Daraxandriel with a murmured apology and traced a looping symbol on Susie’s forehead. From where I was standing, it looked like her finger actually penetrated Susie’s skull, although there was no mark when she lowered her hand. “Now you do.”

  Susie blinked. “Cool.” She set her book bag on the floor and took out her ceremonial blade, slashing with it a couple of times like a gang member prepping for a knife fight.

  “Do you know what went wrong with the original spell?” I asked uneasily.

  Daraxandriel pushed herself up in alarm. “What didst thou say, Peter Simon Collins?” she asked. “Is thy ritual flawed, Dame Kendricks?”

  Mrs. Kendricks threw me an irritated look. “The last time someone tried to free a soul, the demon didn’t want to give it up and the ritual failed. You want Olivia out, don’t you?” Daraxandriel nodded uncertainly. “Then it’ll be fine. Lie down and let’s get started.”

  Daraxandriel complied, staring anxiously up at the ceiling, and Mrs. Kendricks removed her wands from her hair, holding them lightly between her fingertips like conductor’s batons. “Are you ready?” she asked Susie, who nodded. “All right, let’s begin. Peter, tell me as soon as you see Olivia.” She raised her wand again. “Somnum,” she murmured and Daraxandriel’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’m going to set a circle, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” I asked but she ignored me.

  Instead, she closed her eyes and spread her hands, nearly touching the shelves to either side, and took several deep, slow breaths. She murmured something that sounded like My Goddess, grant us clarity, My God, give us strength before gesturing with the wand in her right hand.

  A gleaming silver-white pentagram appeared on the floor, centered under Daraxandriel’s head and partially obscured by her body and the shelves, and I felt my tension ratchet up a few notches. The last time Daraxandriel found herself inside a pentagram, Dr. Bellowes trapped her inside a geode.

  Mrs. Kendricks studied her preparations for a moment and then nodded to herself. “Well?” she asked me. “Is Olivia here?”

  I looked around the room. “I don’t see her.”

  “Hm.” Mrs. Kendricks chewed on her lip as she thought. “Perhaps she needs to be in a deeper sleep.” She gestured with her wand again. “Somniare.” Daraxandriel stirred ever so slightly and then lay still again. “Now?” she asked.

  “I still don’t – oh!” A hazy shape appeared behind Susie, like a warm breath on a cold winter’s day. It hovered there for a few seconds and then it suddenly transformed into Olivia. She looked around, disoriented and wide-eyed. “Olivia!”

  She turned and spotted me. “Peter!” Her relieved smile faded out almost immediately when she saw Daraxandriel on the floor. “What’s going on? What happened?”

  “We’re trying to get you out of Dara. She’s standing behind Susie,” I told Mrs. Kendricks, who nodded curtly. She looked alarmingly grim as she raised both wands now.

  “Ostende vinculum. Do you see it, Susie?”

  Susie peered at Daraxandriel. “I see it. It’s really thick.”

  “I don’t see anything,” I said. Both of them ignored me.

  “What are they doing?” Olivia asked nervously.

  “Cut every strand,” Mrs. Kendricks ordered. “Don’t stop, no matter what happens.”

  Susie nodded and knelt, holding her athame in an odd sort of grip. Then she moved it sideways and something crackled along its edge, as if it was touching a high voltage wire. Olivia gasped and clutched her stomach.

  “What – what did you do?” she moaned. “That hur
ts!”

  “Susie, stop!” I yelled. “You’re hurting her!”

  “Keep going,” Mrs. Kendricks snapped.

  Susie’s blade crackled again as it moved, louder this time, and black wisps of smoke drifted up. Olivia’s doubled over in agony. “Stop it!” she screamed.

  “Susie, stop!” I jumped forward to grab the athame from her but suddenly my feet were welded to the floor. I couldn’t shift them no matter how hard I pulled. “What are you doing? Stop the ritual, something’s wrong!”

  “Don’t interfere, Peter,” Mrs. Kendricks said coldly. Susie paid no attention to us at all. Smoke billowed from her blade, casting sparks that absorbed light instead of casting it. Olivia collapsed on the floor behind her, writhing wordlessly, and all I could do was watch in helpless frustration.

  Daraxandriel groaned softly, moving her head from side to side as a frown creased her features, and her tail reared up suddenly. It lunged at Susie, wrapping itself around her outstretched hand, and yanked her off-balance. The crackling ceased as Susie struggled to free herself and Olivia gasped in shocked relief.

  Then Susie grabbed the tail with her other hand and squeezed. “Sile!” she said sharply and the tail went limp, releasing her. She tossed it aside like an old rag and positioned her athame again.

  “No!” Olivia and I shouted together but Susie’s blade sparked even more and Olivia shrieked in a shrill, never-ending wail. I closed my eyes and covered my ears to block off Olivia’s agony but it wasn’t enough. I still felt every moment of her torture, as if Susie was cutting into me instead.

  And then it stopped. I was afraid to look but I had to make sure Olivia was still there. I steeled myself and opened my eyes.

  No one had moved from their spots, although Susie sat back on her heels now, frowning at her athame. Olivia lay in a huddled ball, shivering and whimpering, and I tugged at my feet, trying to get to her. To my surprise, I was no longer bound to the floor and I jumped over the pentagram to kneel at her side. “Olivia!” I wanted to pick her up in my arms and comfort her but of course I couldn’t. “Olivia, are you okay?”