Demon Debacle: A Witches of Abaddon’s Gate Mystery

by Maher Tegan

  “Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s nice to know where you draw the line.”

  “No problem,” I said, grinning at him as we entered my shop. I didn’t bother turning the lights on because there was plenty of natural light to guide us to the back. I didn’t keep any of my medicinal products out front because I wanted to be able to give individual guidance and dosing instructions to clients. Fortunately, my sleeping draught wasn’t one of the potions I was out of, so I tucked a couple smaller vials containing the concentrate into my pocket, then handed a couple to him.

  He looked a little skeptical when he saw the size.

  “These are easier to manage than full-sized bottles and every bit as potent. More, actually. One vial makes three large bottles, so if this isn’t enough to knock it out, I got nothin’.”

  He slipped his vials into a pocket in his cargo shorts. “Okay, then. Let’s go see a leprechaun about a demon.”

  There was a sentence I never thought I’d hear uttered, but it seemed that was my new normal.

  10

  The church wasn’t far away, so we decided to walk.

  “So what got you into working for the Bureau?” I asked as we made our way down the sidewalk. “You don’t exactly seem like most of the folks I’ve met from there.”

  He looked over at me, and for once, his expression was unreadable. “And what do most folks who work there seem like? I mean, your cousin works for them.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Intense, I guess. Driven.” I rushed to explain that when he arched a brow at me. “I don’t mean you don’t seem focused on doing a good job. I mean, most have something personal that drove them to get into it. It’s not the easiest job. Either that, or they seem like they just don’t have the personalities to do anything else. Since you’re neither angsty nor lacking in personality, I just wondered what your driving force is.”

  “My dad was in it. I started as a constable, but the bureaucracy drove me nuts. I had not autonomy there and was basically just a drone. I worked an abduction case with an agent named Sidney, and he convinced me my talents were going to waste.”

  His tone was light and conversational, unlike Michael’s when anybody asked him about it. Of course, my cousin had his own demons—pardon the expression—that drove him to the job.

  “So what exactly do you do for them?” Calamity asked from where she was walking on the half-wall that ran along the sidewalk.

  He looked at her and winked. “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”

  My little fox rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. That’s what everybody says but give it to us in broad strokes. We need to know who we’re workin’ with.”

  “Fair enough,” he replied, nodding, “I do security, mostly, and fill in where they need me the most. My magical strengths lean toward the offensive side of things, and I draw from the air. That means if you need somebody beside you in a fight, I’m your Huckleberry.”

  The fact that he quoted Tombstone, one of my favorite movies of all times, won him bonus points. I loved Val Kilmer in any form, though I was iffy about his Batman role. That wasn’t so much a strike against him as it was against the movies themselves. I don’t think any actor played his best role in them.

  “Then I’m glad you’re our Huckleberry,” Calamity said, jumping onto his shoulder. As hot as it was, I was glad he was the closest to her. I started to feel bad for him because though she did like him, she was also buttering him up so he’d haul her around. He surprised me, though.

  He turned his head so he could see her. “Me, too, but you realize I’m letting you ride on my shoulder because I want to, and not because you just complimented me, right?”

  I couldn’t help it—I laughed out loud. “Thank you! She nails people with that Miss Nice act all the time, and none of them ever see it coming. She blows more smoke than a three-stack chimney, and everybody just breathes it in like it’s rose-scented mist.”

  His eyes lit with humor, though I have to say Calamity didn’t seem to be seeing the funny in it. “You two are mean. I’m nice to everybody.”

  I scoffed. “You’re nice to people when you want to be. I’m not saying you always have a motive, but it’s refreshing when somebody else calls you on it.”

  She sniffed, though I noticed she didn’t move to jump down. “Refreshing isn’t the term I’d use.”

  “It’s definitely the term I’d use. Also, amusing and satisfying.”

  If looks could kill, I’d have been dead where I stood. Fortunately for her, they couldn’t. Yes, I meant for her. If she killed me, there wouldn’t be anybody around to feed her or clean up after her or entertain her.

  “You two have the strangest relationship I think I’ve ever seen,” he said as we hung a right and headed toward the little church at the end of the street, “but I like it. It suits you both.”

  “Thanks,” I said, winking at her. She smiled and winked back. We did have an odd relationship, but to be fair, we also both had personalities that weren’t always everybody’s cup of tea.

  “It works for us, too,” she said.

  The were no lights on in the caretaker’s house, and I hoped we weren’t going to wake him up. I had no idea what his job entailed or how late it kept him out, but since I’d seen him out every morning snuffing the lamps out, I had to assume he’d be awake.

  The cottage itself was exactly as you’d probably picture it—a small moss-covered building with a thatched roof. Just like Ms. Beatrice had said, the yard surrounding the place as well as the garden situated between it and the church were beautiful. It would be a shame if he were forced to leave because it was obvious he loved this place.

  I lifted the gargoyle knocker on the door and rapped on the solid wooden panels. Footsteps sounded from within, and the door swung open. “Mila,” he said, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion. “What brings you here?”

  “Hi, Timothy,” I replied. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we need your help.”

  He pulled the door open and motioned for us to come in. The smell of fresh-baked bread added to the homey feel, not that it needed that. Brightly colored hand-made afghans graced he backs of overstuffed furniture, and matching pine coffee table and end tables stained a warm honey added to the look. I was a little surprised by the huge flat-screen TV mounted to the wall, but I probably shouldn’t have been.

  “Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the couch. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Water? I just baked some rolls.”

  “No,” I replied, waving a hand. “Don’t go to all that trouble. We just want to pick your brain about the town’s infrastructure.”

  “No trouble at all,” he said, snapping his fingers. A serving tray with three glasses of tea and a plate of piping-hot buns appeared, and he magicked them to the coffee table. “Help yourselves and tell me what I can do for you. I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll do me best.”

  Though we’d just had the muffins and hour before, I didn’t know a single person on the planet who could turn down fresh bread. Little pots of butter and honey sat to the side of them, and I helped myself.

  “Holy cow, Timothy! These are amazing!” I said, my mouth full of bread. It was, too. In fact, it was probably the best bread I’d ever eaten. And the honey was unlike any I’d ever tried.

  His ruddy face blushed with pleasure. “Thank ye. The recipe’s my mum’s, and I have a deal with the bees. I keep the flowers nice for them, and they give me excellent honey.”

  Aaron shook his head, smiling, and took a roll for himself as I tore off a piece of mine for Calamity. I swallowed and chased it down with a drink of tea. “I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but last night wasn’t an isolated incident. We talked to a friend of ours who specialized in this, and she’s sure it’s a mischief demon. We’re trying to sort it out and find it, but it needs—“

  “A dark place to recharge,” he finished for me.

  I nodded. “It seems everybody knows that but me.”

>   He smiled. “That tells me you spoke to Ms. Bea before you came here. I reckon she’s the only other one that’d know that asides from me. Did she also tell you the demon’s probly hunkered down? It’s been way more active than’s normal, and it can’t have much energy left. It’s gonna need a few hours at least to recharge.”

  Aaron pulled the map from his pocket and handed it to Timothy, who opened it. “I think I might be able to help you after all,” he said, “though I’m not sure how it’s getting through the magic.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, debating with myself whether or not I should have another bun. Of course I should.

  He continued to study the map. “There’s an old tunnel system underneath that part of town. It was built as a safety measure in case of pirate invasion, which we had a lot of in the early days. It turned into a way to bootleg goods in and out of the city, though, and the elders shut them down and sealed them.”

  He leaned forward and flattened the map on the coffee table, then pointed to the beauty salon on it. This used to be the surgeon’s. The tunnels start there.” He slid his finger over toward the Cracked Cauldron then down to the apothecary, ChocoLatte’s, and around through my shop to the movie theater, then back to the salon. “They branch off here”—he pointed to a building in the middle of the square he’d drawn then to another—“and here. Basically, at least every third building on those streets have access to the tunnels.”

  He sat back in his chair and rubbed his short-cropped red hair. “The problem, though, is that there isn’t any access to them anymore. We sealed those up tight when a young girl went missing centuries ago. And not just one of us, either. I used leprechaun magic, and we had a couple witches, and a mage, too. No way should somebody know how to untangle all that. Only us original four had that information, and the others are dead.”

  I leaned back, too, mostly because my belly was full of hot rolls, and I was wishing I’d worn looser pants.

  “Could it have been passed down?” Aaron asked.

  Timothy scratched his ear, thinking. “I reckon so, but there’s only one direct descendant, and I’m not even sure her grandmammy passed down the information.”

  “And who would that be?” Aaron asked, reaching for the final roll.

  “Lettie Morris,” Timothy replied. “I don’t believe she’d open ‘em even if she could. She’s a good witch, and I don’t mean nice, though she is. She’s a sweetheart, but she’s also wicked powerful. She’d know what that would mean.”

  “Then we need to talk to her,” I said, anxious to get going now that we had a plan. Or at least a thread to pick at.

  “That won’t be possible, at least not right now,” Timothy said, shaking his head. “She’s outta town right now visitin’ her kids. She won’t be back for another week.”

  I sighed. “Of course she is.” Time to change course. “Can you take another look and maybe at least guess where a good place to start might be?”

  He pressed his lips together and shifted his gaze to the left. There was something he wasn’t telling us.

  “We don’t have time to waste,” I said, leaning forward and bracing my elbows on my knees. “You saw what happened last night. We can’t let that happen again.”

  He blew out a breath, and I picked up a hint of resignation in it. “There’s a central area. We built it so we’d have a place to hide the kids and elderly for more than a couple hours if need be. It’s right here.” He plunked his blunt finger down in the center of the map.

  “Do you want to go with us?” I asked, pushing to a standing position.

  He rubbed his chin, and his fingertips on the red stubble made a scratchy sound. “I reckon I might, seein’ as how that’s where me gold’s hid.”

  I did a double take as he stood to follow us. “Come again? You mean, like leprechaun gold?”

  He shot me an irritated look. “Course I mean leprechaun gold. That’s what I am, ain’t it?”

  I held up my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean offense. I just didn’t realize that was a real thing. I thought it was a myth, like with witches flying on brooms and living in gingerbread houses.”

  He arched a bushy red brow at me as we left his house. “I hate to tell ye, but all them ain’t myths, either. Well, ‘ceptin' maybe the broom thing. That’s not one I ever seen.”

  “Well, you can be sure your secret’s safe with us,” Calamity said, trotting along beside us.

  “I don’t see a choice but to trust yas,” he grumbled.

  Cold washed over me. “Wait,” I said. “What if your gold’s gone?”

  He looked up from where he was walking beside me. “Me gold ain’t gone nowhere. I’d have known. It’s safe. Nobody but me can see it unless they know where to look. And nobody knows where to look.”

  “Wait,” I said, stopping us halfway up the sidewalk. “Where are we goin’?”

  “I reckon the best place would probly be the Cauldron,” he said, scratching the wiry hair in his ear. “Shane knows a bit about town history. We’ve shared many a whiskey over talkin’ about times gone by.”

  I didn’t realize that Shane was old, but I guess I’d never really thought about it, either. “Then let’s not walk. I’ve got a belly full of hot rolls and am about ready to lay down and take a nap.”

  I thought you’d never ask, lass,” I said with a wink as he laid one hand on each of us. Before I could even say anything, we were standing in front of the pub.

  “I guess that works,” I said, wobbling a little as I regained my equilibrium. Teleporting usually took at least a little notice, and I swallowed to keep the bread down.

  “Ye look a wee bit green, lass,” he said, laughing, and I scowled at him.

  “Give a girl a little warnin’,” I said, moving past him and into the bar.

  Shane was surprised to see us, but once I explained what we needed to do, he was all in.

  “Follow me,” he said, then glanced over his shoulder at me as we moved through the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of the tunnels when you asked about a drain. It’s been sealed for so long that it didn’t even enter my mind.”

  He swung the door to the storeroom open, then stood back so Timothy could step inside. There wasn’t much room, so I stood back while Timothy levitated boxes from in front of the far wall. He shot a look over his shoulder. “Don’t worry your head, Shane. I’d never drop a case of whiskey. Scotch, maybe, but I don’t see any of that here.”

  Once the wall was cleared, he rolled his head on his shoulders and shook his arms, apparently loosening up to do some serious magic. “I’m not guaranteein’ that this’ll work, just so ya know. It’s been centuries, and my old mind’s not what it used to be.”

  He swept his hand in a circular motion, and a door appeared. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the broken lock wasn’t what he’d expected. He stood back and crossed his arms, pivoting his body a little so he could see us. Concern etched a V between his brows. “This isn’t just a low-level demon. It takes tricky magic to unlock the wards, but it wouldn’t need to unlock the door once those were down.”

  “Are you saying we’re dealing with a person?” I asked, trying to understand.

  “I’m tryin’ to say exactly that, though in fairness, I haven’t checked these in at least a century. There’s no tellin’ when it happened.”

  I sighed and stepped forward. “Then we’ll proceed like it happened today and hope it happened way back when.”

  With that, I pulled the broken lock from the latch and swung it open.

  11

  I summoned a light ball, and the pink orb danced ahead of us, casting long shadows down the stone tunnel. It was tall enough for me to move without hunching, but Shane wasn’t quite so lucky. At a solid six-six, he had to walk with his head tilted sideways.

  I jumped and my heart about jumped out of my chest when I walked straight into a spiderweb before we were even ten feet in. It spread across the entire tunnel, so I got a full frontal covering. The
idea that the spider that built it might have been in residence freaked me out, and I jumped and squealed instinctively. Calamity reached out and put her paw over my mouth, and I cast a cleansing spell.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, my face getting hot when I saw the three of them smiling.

  “Want me to go ahead?” Aaron asked. Though I was tempted, he didn’t have the soul catcher.

  “No,” I said, cringing when my voice was a little higher than normal.

  I turned up the juice on the orb. “Let me know when we’re getting close to the room,” I said, lowering my voice when it echoed around me. “I’ll turn the light down so maybe we can get a jump on it.”

  Timothy nodded. “It’s a few minutes’ walk, but I’ll let you know.”

  We crept along with me paying equal attention to upcoming spiderwebs and the possibility of running into a demon, which, in my book, was only slightly more icky.

  “It’s a good sign that there are spider webs stretchin’ clear across the tunnel,” Shane whispered. “Nothin’s passed through here in a while.”

  “Mixed blessings, then,” I muttered. “No bad guys, but plenty of creepy crawlies.”

  “We’re almost there,” Timothy said as the tunnel took a slow curve, his voice low. There had been several other tunnels that had joined this one along the way, and the explorer in me warred with She Who Hates Spiders. It would be cool to explore but maybe the best thing would be to seal them back again like our foreparts had meant to happen.

  “Does it dead-end?” Aaron asked, and I gave myself a mental forehead slap for not having thought of that.

  “O’ course not,” he growled. I’m the survivor of many a war, lad. If I made a strategic mistake like that, I’d deserve to lose me gold.”

  I glanced at him, surprised he’d confessed about his gold to Shane.