“Well, what about her, then?” Rebecca tried again, pointing at Amy. “She’s younger than me.”
“In your dreams,” Amy sneered.
“We’re not even sure she has a soul,” I sighed. “Sorry, it has to be you or Susie and we need her to make sure the incubus doesn’t escape.”
“Peter, we can’t get Rebecca involved in this,” Dad told me sternly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“The incubus can’t hurt her as long as she stays out of reach,” I argued. “He can’t use my powers. She just has to stay there long enough to convince him that our story is legit and then Susie can pop her out of there.” Dad hesitated, obviously wanting to disagree with my reasoning, but he finally nodded his acceptance.
“Okay, Rebecca?” I asked gently, not wanting to spook her. “Will you do it?” She looked extremely unhappy, but she jerked her head in a single nod. “Great, thank you.”
Now we just needed to piece the rest of the story together. “So can you think of a demon that the incubus might be worried about?” I asked Daraxandriel. “Someone who’d be willing to help you out for a soul?”
Daraxandriel looked uncomfortable. “I know of but one such who might heed my call. Garrax Spellbreaker.”
Amy eyed her dubiously. “Garrax? Didn’t my father kill him eons ago?”
“Our Dread Lord did curse him when Garrax spoke against His ambitions in the Courts of Hell,” she agreed reluctantly, “yet his power dispelled it. He fled into the Shattered Lands and not even Orixnador Soulreaper’s hellhounds could follow his scent. He has abided there ere since.”
“Wait a minute,” I said eagerly. “You mean Garrax can break the Dread Lord’s curses? Can he get rid of this one?” I tapped my chest.
“Peter,” Dad reminded me, “we’re not actually summoning this demon.”
“Oh, right.” I sat back in disappointment.
“If Garrax has been hiding out all this time,” Amy asked suspiciously, “how would you know how to summon him? How do you know he’s even still alive?”
Daraxandriel cleared her throat. “I did come upon him by chance, in my quest to procure a soulstone for Parathraxas,” she admitted. “’Twas he who guided me to our Dread Lord’s trove and the Stone that lay within.”
“Why in the world would he do that?” She sounded like she couldn’t conceive of anyone doing favors for Daraxandriel.
“To screw over the Dread Lord for trying to kill him, of course,” Karyn guessed with a snort. “I kinda like this guy.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” Dad interjected. “The important thing is that this demon is a friend of Dara’s and he could hurt the incubus, right?”
“Aye,” Daraxandriel nodded. “His touch would render the incubus impotent and shatter any spell cast by a witch.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Karyn protested, suddenly uneasy. “You’re not really going to summon him, right? We’d never be able to get rid of him!”
“We’re not summoning him,” Dad repeated firmly. “We’re not giving him any souls, remember?” Karyn nodded, still looking unsettled. “That said, if you were going to summon him, Dara, where would you do it?”
“Garrax cannot be summoned,” Daraxandriel shook her head, “leastwise not by my hand. I would have to seek him out afoot and beg for his aid.”
“So you’d just take the shadowed paths to Hell,” I frowned. “You could do that anywhere.”
“Nay, Peter Simon Collins,” she said, “even were the paths safe for me to tread, the journey twixt the borderlands and the Shattered Peaks would be far too lengthy for our purpose.”
“Then this whole thing isn’t going to work at all!” I exclaimed in dismay. “The incubus has to believe we can bring Garrax here in the next couple of hours or it’ll be too late!”
“Nay,” she said again, “for there are passages other than the shadowed paths, portals that may be opened into the very heart of Hell. Bellaxragor Stormreaper used one such to enter thy world.”
“Behind the library, you mean?” I frowned. “Is it still there?”
“Mayhap,” she hedged, “yet would such a location suit thy needs?”
I looked at Dad, who frowned doubtfully. “You mean in that alleyway?” he asked. I nodded and he shook his head. “I wasn’t paying much attention to it when we were there but I don’t remember seeing a lot of hiding places back there.”
“I can glamour everyone,” Allison offered. “He’d never see us.”
“Can you guarantee that?” Dad asked. “Especially if he decides to bring one of the more powerful witches with him?”
“He’s supposed to come alone, Dad,” I reminded him.
“And I’m sure he’ll do exactly what we want,” Dad retorted dryly. “We don’t know how much confidence he has in his ability to control the other witches. He may decide to bring along some help, just in case. Can you think of anyplace else?” he asked Daraxandriel.
“Where’er a demon lord has passed between the realms,” she said, “a portal may remain, at least for a time.”
“I don’t know where most of them came through,” I admitted. “Orixnador might have come here inside that warehouse where he kept those people hostage.”
“Orixnador pursued us within the borderlands,” Daraxandriel reminded me. “He and Lilixandriel would have used the shadowed paths to enter this world.”
“What about the bridge?” Karyn suggested. “Metraxion and Nyx were both there.”
“We have the same problem there,” Dad said, shaking his head. “It’s too open.”
“There is one other place we might assay,” Daraxandriel suggested. “Where Metraxion took his revenge upon Parathraxas for his imprisonment.” She shuddered at the memory.
“You mean the star?” I asked uneasily, shuddering myself. The existence of an opening into Hell might explain the odd feeling I got whenever I passed it. “She means the Texas star in the entrance of the library. That’s where Metraxion took Dr. Bellowes down into Hell.” All of the witches looked queasy at the thought. “It’s inside,” I pointed out to Dad.
“And downtown,” he countered, “but it may be our best bet. So what is Allison going to tell the incubus, then?” He nodded in her direction.
I took a deep breath, arranging the pieces in my mind. “Daraxandriel finished reading the journal here while we were trying to figure out a plan. She discovered that Dr. Bellowes tried to capture Garrax inside his ring but lost control of him when Garrax canceled out his soul-trap spell. Garrax escaped, nearly killing Dr. Bellowes in the process, and he was deathly afraid that Garrax would return someday. Dara knows Garrax so she’s going to enter Hell through the portal in the library and bribe him with a soul to get him to kill the incubus and destroy the ring that almost caught him before. To give her time to do that, the rest of us are going to create a diversion somewhere else, which is why she’ll be on her own and vulnerable. How’s that?”
“Wonderful,” Melissa said, “except for one thing.”
“What?” I thought it was a great story, considering I was making it up on the fly.
“We’d never agree to sacrifice anyone’s soul to summon a demon.”
“We’re desperate and out of options,” I suggested. “Someone volunteers to make the ultimate sacrifice.”
“We’re not that desperate,” she argued, “at least not yet, and even if we were, it wouldn’t be Rebecca. She’d be the last one we pick.”
I opened my mouth to argue and then closed it again. She was right. “Damn it,” I muttered. The relief on Rebecca’s face was almost comical.
“I’ll do it,” Melissa stated, lifting her chin. “I need to be there anyway, I can pretend to be the sacrifice.”
“Except I wouldn’t let you be the one either,” I told her firmly, “and the incubus is afraid of you, remember? You can’t be anywhere in sight when he shows up.”
“Oh, right.” She slumped back in her chair, looking irked.
“I’ll do it,” Karyn
offered. “I’d do anything to save Karin. He’ll believe that.”
“No,” I said, “we need you and Allison keeping everyone charmed and glamoured. It has to be me. This whole situation is my fault anyway.”
“He’s not going to believe you’d sacrifice yourself like that,” Karyn said scornfully.
“An he shares Peter Simon Collins’ memories,” Daraxandriel said quietly, “he would.”
“That’s exactly what Peter would do,” Melissa agreed with a rueful smile.
“He’s kind of stupid that way,” Amy shrugged.
“I’m not sure whether I should be proud or appalled that you’d do something like that,” Dad smiled, “but it sounds plausible. So now we just need to set the trap.” He nodded at Allison. “What message is she going to pass on to the incubus?”
“A very carefully worded one,” I told him with a resigned sigh.
Dad fetched a notepad from his office and we huddled around it, trying to anticipate everything the incubus might ask or say when Allison called him and then crafting unambiguous instructions to make sure he couldn’t take control of her again. Somehow, she had to pretend to be enthralled without actually following any commands he gave her, while still convincing him that the lies she was telling him were real.
It took a lot longer than I thought it would but finally everyone agreed that the script we created was the best we were going to be able to do, given what little we knew about the incubus. Allison’s orders covered three handwritten pages and I read through them one more time before getting to my feet.
“Okay, Allison,” I said, feeling a nervous flutter in my stomach. We had exactly one chance to get this right. “Are you ready?” She nodded, sitting up straight in her chair. “All right, here goes.” I cleared my throat. “Simon says, listen to everything I’m about to say and obey these instructions exactly.”
I recited every word on the notepad slowly and clearly and everyone else silently mouthed them, making sure I didn’t screw it up. Allison’s attention was completely focused on me and her pupils expanded with every passing minute until they practically swallowed her eyes. It was unnerving but I forged on relentlessly.
I reached the end and the room was silent, everyone watching Allison for her reaction. She just sat there, scarcely blinking, and I wondered if I’d shorted her out somehow. I cleared my throat. “That’s it,” I told her. “Do you remember everything?”
She finally closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before nodding. “Yes,” she said, sounding almost normal.
“And you know what you need to do?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then.” I let my own breath out in a whoosh. “Let’s do this. I think you should make the call in the bathroom so it sounds like you snuck away for a few minutes. Melissa, Karyn, go with her and listen in, just in case.” Both girls stood but Allison stayed where she was. “It’s time to call the incubus,” I prompted her. She just looked at me. “Is there a problem?” I asked anxiously.
“I don’t have a phone anymore,” she said.
I blinked at her and then looked down at the scorch mark on the table. I dropped bonelessly into my chair and buried my face in my hands. “Son of a bitch,” I groaned.
“Sorry about that,” Karyn apologized ruefully. “She can use my phone.”
“He’s not going to believe her story if she’s calling from someone else’s phone,” I said into my palms. “She just talked to him on hers.”
“Fortunately, modern technology has a solution,” Dad noted wryly. He picked up the trash can we dumped the remains of Allison’s phone into and rooted through the scraps, finally extracting her SIM card. “This looks like it’ll still work. Will it fit in your phone, Karyn?”
Karyn took the tiny square of metal and plastic and performed the necessary transplant. I held my breath while she rebooted her phone and perused the screen. “Did it work?” I asked eagerly.
“Looks like it,” she said. “Here.” Allison took it and unlocked it, nodding to herself.
“Thank God,” I breathed. “Okay, are you ready?” All three girls nodded. “Good luck.” I waited until the conference room door closed behind them before letting my head fall back. “My heart can’t take much more of this,” I declared, palming my eyes.
“You’re doing great, Peter,” Dad assured me. “The ability to improvise under pressure is essential for a police officer.”
“So what do we do now?” Rebecca asked nervously.
“Now,” I told her with a sigh, “we wait and see if he takes the bait.”
18
In theory, human beings, as a species, are monogamous. In practice, things are a bit hazier. Certainly the vast majority of people on the planet seem to be content with spending their lives with that one certain someone, but there are enough counter-examples to make sociologists and anthropologists wonder if the whole monogamy thing is actually true. From harems in the Middle East to sister-wives in Utah, certain groups continue to make the case for polygamy as a natural and desirable arrangement.
The interesting thing about these exceptions to the rule is that they’re asymmetric: they almost invariably involve one man and multiple women, not the other way around. The word polygamy literally means many women. No one ever talks about the flip side of the coin, polyandry.
There are two prevailing theories to explain this dichotomy. The first involves genetics. A woman can only propagate her genes one man at a time, so there’s no point keeping more than one around. On the other hand, men can plant their seed in multiple gardens, metaphorically speaking, greatly increasing the odds of their genes continuing on in the next generation.
The second theory basically states that it’s hard enough living with just one man. No woman in her right mind would want to put up with a whole bunch of them at once.
Waiting is hard under the best of circumstances. Waiting without a smartphone or a computer to distract me is worse. There was no clock in the conference room and I didn’t want Dad to think I was nervous by asking him what time it was, so all I could do was pretend to be calm and keep my fingers locked together so I wouldn’t drum them on the table. Nobody spoke until Olivia looked around with a frown.
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
“Hear what?” I listened carefully, wondering if the incubus and the other witches were storming the station to take the journal.
“Someone called my name.”
“I didn’t hear anything. Olivia,” I explained to Dad when he gave me a strange look.
“Someone did,” she insisted. “It was very quiet but I definitely heard something.”
“I didn’t hear anything either,” Rebecca said doubtfully.
“I’m not making this up!” Olivia insisted. “Someone is calling me.” She twisted left and right, trying to zero in on the source. Unsuccessfully, judging from her expression.
“Ghost hearing is probably different from regular hearing,” I speculated. “Maybe you’re just –”
“Hearing things?” she retorted.
“Hearing things that the rest of us can’t hear,” I told her. “Why don’t you go check on Allison and the others and make sure they’re okay. Maybe they were just talking about you or something.”
“Why would they be talking about me?” she asked with a frown. “I don’t even know them. Well, other than Melissa.”
“That’s why, because they’ve never seen a ghost before.”
“Because they can’t see me.”
“Just go,” I sighed. “They should have been done by now, just make sure they’re all right.” I considered going myself but I suspected Mrs. Burns and Sergeant Finney might have something to say about me sneaking into the girl’s bathroom.
Olivia stood reluctantly and walked around the table, casting a dubious look back at me before walking through the door. Rebecca watched her go with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“That is the creepiest thing,” she said a bit breathlessly. “What’s it
like, living with a ghost? Does she rattle chains at night and move stuff around when you’re not looking?”
“She’s not that kind of ghost,” I assured her. “She’s perfectly normal, other than being slightly transparent and immaterial.”
“Oh.” Rebecca seemed disappointed by that insight. “Well, what about the demon, then? She lives with you, too, right?” She leaned backed when Daraxandriel turned her glowing eyes on her. “Aren’t you scared of her?” she whispered.
“Dara’s harmless,” I told her and then reconsidered. “Well, mostly harmless. She’s given up on tempting people to sign away their souls.”
“So what does she do, then?”
“She eats french fries and annoys people,” Amy put in. She had her head propped up on her hand with her eyes closed, looking bored to tears.
“Thou dost diminish my accomplishments,” Daraxandriel chided her. “I also play Legends of Lorecraft. My Dara Alexander has achieved level 35 this past week,” she announced proudly.
“Oh. That’s great,” Rebecca said weakly. “And what do you do?” she asked Amy.
“Nothing,” I said flatly.
“Amaryx is a blight upon all creation,” Daraxandriel declared. “Hell, Heaven, and Earth alike will proclaim their rapturous joy at her demise.”
“Flatterer,” Amy smirked.
Any further queries about the unusual characters inhabiting my life were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. I sat up, eager to hear how the call went, before I realized that the girls wouldn’t bother knocking. Instead, the door opened and Sergeant Finney’s sour face leaned into the room.
“Anything else you need before I head out, Chief?” he asked.
“No, that’s all, Bill,” Dad told him. “Thanks for staying late. Who’s watching Cruz tonight?”
Sergeant Finney blinked and scowled. “Rachel took her home,” he said, as if Dad should have known that.
“What? Why?” Dad asked, alarmed. “She was supposed to take Mrs. Phipps!”
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