“Nope. Didn’t think you did, but love is a force, Melia. It changes a person. Profound isn’t a stretch.” Even for a Muse. It’s not like Zeus was immune.
As if she could read his mind, Melia burst out laughing. “True, Theo, love is the purpose for existence. Without it, every piece of light, music, art, writing, erudite thought, grace, and passion within the heart has no path to expression. It is the turning point. To embrace it is the only way.”
Theo glanced around. Everything about Jasper looked and felt right. Melia holds a key to him. Topper’s gut was spot-on.
“I’m on board, for whatever that’s worth. Topper and the witches run this one.”
“Perhaps. I know you worry. I step onto this path, choices made with lucidity, to save the light within.”
Chapter 8
Jasper slid into the little car and leaned over, running his palms with slow sensuousness up Melia’s bare arms, cradling her head with one hand while sliding fingertips down her spine with the other. His lips, firm against her softness, kissed with gentle urgency, different from his usual style. Lost in the moment, they paused, snuggled and kissed again.
He released her with reluctance and she started the Beetle, backing out and heading for Topper’s. A creature unblended from the shadows in a slow lope, running parallel. Melia glanced over and stopped the car.
“What’s up?”
“Stay here, Jasper. You cannot help me. Promise.”
“I’m a man, not a child. What’s going on?”
“There is a darkness following. I will send it back to hell. Do not interfere.”
Holy crap.
Melia stepped from the Beetle. The creature stopped, hunching down against the sand, watching the silver glow consume and expand around her until she was perfect light, a luminescent center surrounded by a blazing white shield.
“Darkness, you are not of the earth and hold no purpose here.”
Jasper stared as the thing, a cross between a wolf and a cat, changed shape, becoming semi-human, spine twisted, with a gaping maw and red eyes.
“Demon, I send you back, to balance.”
Her light shot from her chest and pierced the demon, surrounding it as it fell, shrieking, before squeezing it to a pinpoint of silver.
“Tell the others,” Melia intoned, as the light blasted, with a glowing trail, high into the night.
Her blazing aura fading, she returned to the Beetle and climbed in, scanning the desert.
Jasper squinted; the car felt like it had its own sun. Guess that’s not far off.
“What was that thing? Demons are real? I thought Hell was down?” Questions streamed as he tried to find her face in the glow. Her eyes caught his and held as she faded back to herself.
“You could look upon me. That’s good news, Jasper. I must tell Topper.” She shifted, and the car moved. “Hell isn’t bound by gravity, that’s a human construct.”
At Topper’s she kissed him, her smile smoothing his edges. “Demons are real, or you would not be here, Silly. Stay inside and avoid mirrors. It’s how they portal to move into your plane.”
His face echoing lust, joy, and complete confusion, Jasper climbed from the car and mounted the steps. Topper met him at the door.
“Melia said no mirrors?” Jasper greeted her.
Topper nodded and snapped her fingers. “Done. At the bar, too. Come have a bourbon and tell me everything.”
Still sleepy, Jasper slid-walked down the staircase. Melia and Topper, coffees in hand, wavered into view. Do these women ever sleep?
“Morning.”
A coffee floated over to him, landing at the seat across the table from them. Oh, come on. It’s way too early for the inquisition. He drank down half a cup, eyeing the pot that hovered over and topped him off.
By the second cup, the coffee pushed him into a semblance of alertness. Jasper raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
“I believe it is time to commit to coming through into your magic, Jasper. Demons crossing into our plane tells me they are aware you could stay light after emerging. You are on their radar.” Topper sipped her coffee, eyes serious above the rim. “The showdown is taking place; you won’t have a choice. Facing it head on is the solution that gives you some control.”
“You’ve been great, Topper. I appreciate it, I do. But, I’m fine. I’ve been doing alright. Melia fixed yesterday’s issue. I think standing my ground for now is the best outcome.”
“Jasper, if you do that, we can’t be together. We can remain friends, but nothing more. It’s impossible to hide in darkness and be a connected soul with mine. I’ll consume and destroy you. There is no middle here.”
“We managed last night, Melia. I looked straight at you. You said that was a good thing.”
“That I didn’t obliterate you on contact, why, yes,” Melia laughed. “That was auspicious. But, Jasper, what you don’t understand is a library’s worth of knowledge. At some point, you must trust.”
“Okay, Melia. Tell me, what happens if I do this and it goes sideways? Hmmm? Am I the next silver ball booting to Hell?”
Topper’s mouth set. Melia seemed unfazed.
“Of course you would be. How odd you should ask; I am the balance.”
“Of course I would be?” Jasper snorted. “Do you realize how insane this sounds? ‘Trust us, we’ll keep the demons from grabbing your ass through a mirror, but if we goof, ha ha, so sorry, off to Hell with you. Shall we have tea?’ Melia, that tells me leaving things as they are is the best decision.”
“Then you and I can’t become, Jasper. I sorrow to learn this.” Her eyes darkened with regret.
“Both of you are ridiculous. This is my life! I am fine. We’re working hard to get my car fixed, and then the three of us are hitting the road. Adios, Magic, and all the bull this week dumped on me. I’m gone.”
He stomped out through the kitchen door, steps fading.
“Not the reaction I wanted, Melia. I hoped for a better outcome.”
“I don’t believe this is over, Topper, but if he’s divided going in, that division is in the dark’s favor.”
Jasper sat at the Kettle, at the table that let him see into the back, and watched Wellie work. He’s got rhythm in the kitchen. He cooks like I sling drinks. It’s fun, but it is also craft. Weird that I didn’t pick up he had that magic thing going on. His mom either. Now I feel it, and in Romer too. Being here brought out some stuff. But, that’s where it ends. I don’t care if I never look in another mirror again. Color me done with the hoodoo hocus-pocus crap. ‘I am the balance.’ What the everlovin’ hell. Who talks like that?
A plate of huevos rancheros floated over. Jasper nodded to Wellie and dug in.
Jasper looks pissed all the way off. Wonder what’s up with that?
Breakfast rush over, Wellie caught the eye of the witch in charge before nodding to Jasper and heading outside for a break. Jasper dropped money on the table and walked around the building to the back door. Wellie leaned up against the wall in the scrap of shade still available.
“What you chewing on, Bon Ami?”
“Nothing healthy, Wellie. I’m ready to bounce.”
“We should have enough after tomorrow’s shifts. Things not right with Melia?”
“The world is full of women. She was special, but I can’t be what she needs.”
“The world is indeed full of women, Bon Ami. What it is not full of… is women like her. Season over time and don’t rush your roux.”
Jasper cut a side-eye at Wellie then looked down the dusty street with a silent sigh.
“You running from those wicked eyes of yours?”
“Don’t go there, Wellie. Not your business.”
“If you blow in my vicinity, I assure you it will be. Collateral damage is not a goal.”
“Then haul ass home, Wellie.”
“Nah. Friends to the end, though I thought we’d at least make it to thirty.” Wellie squinted at the sun and pushed off the wall. “Time to make that gumb
o sing. Don’t do the unwise, Bon Ami. You know more now than when we landed here, so use that info. There is a chance it ends well.” Wellie patted his shirt over mojo bag and crossed himself.
Jasper shrugged at the display, then nodded, raising a fist for a bump. “I’ll keep in the lines. Wellie. You do the same.”
“At least along the edges. A man’s gotta live.”
Romer watched the red-haired witch take a seat at the far end. She feels off. While some witches in Magic were darker than others, there was a common thread of goodness and humor within them. This one reads like a blank page. She’s hiding something.
“What’s your pleasure?”
Her eyes turned to him, and the hair on Romer’s arms raised as his heart rate slowed to half beats. What the hell? I felt this before, when I bounced that dude, who ended up murdering a woman a month later, out of the Chunk. ‘Get drunk at the Chunk,’ he’d snarled and the woman’s fright brought this same sensation out in me. That guy hit the pavement and I wondered where the muscle came from. They told me I single-handed him out and tossed him like he weighed eighty pounds.
“Give me something otherworldly,” the redhead answered, eyes dead yet burning.
“As you wish,” Romer said, catching Wellie’s motion out of the corner of his eye. He moved to meet him.
“High John is humming. She is not right. Taloot made a cocktail earlier and showed me how. Do this,” Wellie murmured, gesturing to a bottle tucked well under the bar, behind Taloot’s regular alchemy. “Jigger of that, half jigger of ghost pepper, and it’s important, Bon Ami, only 3 shakes, and say the Trinity when you do.”
Romer raised an eyebrow and mixed it. “Father,” shake, “Son,” shake, “and Holy Spirit,” shake. He poured it off.
“Enjoy.” He slid the drink to the redhead, and washed his hands with care in the bar sink.
Romer turned away, returning to the far end as she drank, eyes glowing. Her hands shook.
“What have you done?” she shrieked, violent spasms shaking her body.
“I, wait, what?”
“Bon Ami! Get down!”
The redhead’s hair erupted, blazing in hellish fire as her skin ignited and peeled, exposing black, leathery skin. Dwarfs and trolls leapt from their stools, running for the exits as she jerked back and forth, wailing, the peels falling in burning strips to the floor. Long talons gripped the bar’s edge, slicing deep grooves as her body lurched off the stool.
The door blasted inward, white light blinding the few remaining patrons. Wellie crawled around the end of the bar, shading his eyes and straining to see as a silver line snaked across the floor, spinning and wrapping the demon’s body in python-like coils. The beast shrieked in agony, chilling Romer’s blood as he lay on the other side of the big wooden bar.
“Wellie! What’s happening?”
The demon levitated in the tightening line, its death wails running along Romer’s arms. He struggled to crawl toward Wellie’s feet as Wellie flipped hard onto his back, his mojo bag glowing white hot. Romer’s bag tugged at his neck, searing his chest. With the smell of burning cotton and sulphur up his nose, Romer grabbed Wellie, pulling him behind the bar, staring at the whites of his rolled up eyes and his own arm hair, now an iridescent silver.
The shriek cut to silence, and Romer pulled up into a crouch, peeking over the edge. The bound demon shrank into a silver ball before blasting through the roof. Bits of plaster fluttered down, pattering onto the floor.
Ho-lee crap.
Romer ran to help the remaining patrons to their unsteady feet, his touch calming. He settled them, mixing drinks on the house, while a shocked witch fixed the ceiling. Wellie sat on the ground, holding his head and trembling, whispering to his mojo bag, the front of his shirt burned to ash. Romer looked down, seeing the same burn on his own shirt.
“Thank you, High John, for helping us,” he murmured to his bag before tucking it back into what remained of his favorite shirt.
Chapter 9
“From the beginning, please,” Theo stared at the tousled group. Wellie resembled a train wreck, Romer’s hair held a heavy streak of silver, and Melia’s face was full of straight lines.
“I do not answer to you, Theo. My presence here is a simple courtesy.”
“I appreciate that, Melia. Just need to understand what happened.”
Romer sucked in air and recounted the story. Theo listened without interruption, then leaned forward.
“Where did you learn how to mix that drink?”
“Taloot tried it on Jasper today and Wellie watched. Well, I guess the one Taloot offered was not the exact recipe.”
“Everything but the Trinity,” Wellie interjected. “With Jasper it was just a test. Taloot told me that part, but he didn’t say it when he mixed one for Jasp.”
Dammit, Taloot. Are you trying to explode this kid?
“I’m grateful for small favors. Melia, is this, um, balanced?”
Aqua eyes held his, and one corner of her mouth ticked upward. “Yes. The demon I vanquished last night arrived in hell with a message. This one did not. They never listen, but I try.”
“What’s with the shirts, gentlemen?”
Wellie looked up and shuddered. “High John saved our asses.”
Oh, perfect. Another variable. I’m getting too old for this job.
“Does Topper know you added High John to the mix?”
“Yeah.”
Fan-freaking-tastic.
Jasper inspected Kokopelli’s ruined door, stepping around two dwarfs working on the repair. Taloot waved him in, his face lacking its normal cheery disposition.
“Romer is in no shape to handle his shift,” Taloot shook his head. “I can do it, but if you want the money, you can pick it up.”
“We need to get the car fixed and head back to El Paso,” Jasper nodded. “I’ll cover for Romer.”
“It’s been nice having the week off, but you three seem to crisp the edges around here. Once you’re paid out and gone, I’m guessing the demons will back the hell up, and I for one support that scenario. They’re destructive little shits.”
Jasper nodded and stocked the bottles. A witch he didn’t know was casting repair and cleaning spells, and Taloot was murmuring to her in low tones as she tidied the alchemy shelf. Within the hour, the bar looked normal. Taloot poured the witch a drink and sat on the stool next to her.
“This is Lacey. She drinks for free tonight, Jasper. When the dwarfs finish the door, they do too.”
“Got it. Thanks for making everything look great, Ma’am.”
“My pleasure. I can’t stay this evening, Taloot, but I’ll take you up on that next weekend. We have a sitter booked!”
“My pleasure, Lacey. Mwah!”
They left together, chatting, as Jasper wiped a few bottles, looking at an empty pub. Hope the folks don’t stay away. It’ll be a long night rattling around by myself and I need the tips.
Topper glanced around at the assembled witches in her library. There is no accord here and I’m out of arguments.
“Well, I see doubts on some faces. Tell me your thoughts.”
“Two demons, that we know of, likely more. That’s one.” Bumi leaned in, the single white stripe in her hair falling forward as she did so . “That signals more interest than I can remember, ever, in Magic.”
“Too many variables. We’re dealing with an unknown sire, presentations of lower demons, and now High John is in this mix. That’s two.” Elthera crossed lace covered arms over her chest.
“There’s significant fallout potential. If we prevail…”
“When,” Topper interjected.
“Perhaps. There are no certainties, Topper. If or when we prevail, we are inviting ongoing scrutiny we don’t want from a foiled father and his minions,” Lacey replied. “That’s three.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Minions,” Lacey said with a no-nonsense glance. “He’s sending them already. Do not be foolish.”
Topper’s lips set, but she didn’t argue further.
“Let’s take the count,” Elthera said. “Those in favor of bringing Jasper through now?”
Topper and two other witches raised their hands.
“Those in favor of letting these boys return home and wait for Jasper to come to us when he’s more mature?”
Fifteen hands went up. Topper’s shoulders slumped.
“That is the decision. Sisters, I appreciate your candor.”
“It’s not never,” Lacey murmured, “but this isn’t the right time. He doesn’t want it and that’s crucial.”
“I agree, to a degree. I’m worried we won’t get another opportunity.”
Lacey hugged her. “I understand. Complex spell work covers him, and he is well protected. He has a solid chance.”
The bar was three quarters to capacity and Jasper worked his way down the long row, making sure all the drinks were full. I’m dying to pee, looks like a good time.
Heading into the restroom, he swung the door shut, and unzipped his fly. As he peed, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Every wall in the bath was now mirror.
Before he clenched his eyes shut, a face formed. Who did this? When? Topper zapped the mirrors in the house and here yesterday. Someone changed them back. Unable to stop the flow, Jasper stared down at the bowl, shaken. After flushing, he shut his eyes and turned, bumping straight into a man. Jasper jumped as his eyes opened, sliding up to stare into the face of a huge demon.
“Hello, Son,” the deep gravelly voice filled the little room. “Your defiance ends today; I’m here to retrieve my payment from a long ago bargain.”
“Son? No. Whatever bargain you had with Mom is past. You never made one with me.” Jasper let his anger flow. “I reject you.”
The malevolent smile sent Jasper’s bowels into overdrive. “Feisty. How like your mother. I enjoyed destroying her. She never gave you up, though. Spells shift over time, and you are mine now. I will never lose you again. You’ll learn to hate, and revile, and use your power to unleash suffering. In time, I’ll make sure you excel at it.”
Broke In Magic Page 5
