“Not exactly,” he admitted. “We handle a lot of mundane cases as well and we’re careful to keep any supernatural aspects out of the reports.”
“How big is your team?” Melissa asked. “I mean, there can’t be that many demons wandering around, right?”
“There are a lot more than you’d think, unfortunately” he said grimly. “There are twelve of us at the moment, plus Agent Morgan, but we’re always on the lookout for new recruits. It’s a dangerous job,” he added grimly, brushing his fingertips along the triple scars across his temple.
“Can I join?” Susie asked, sitting up eagerly. “It sounds like fun.”
Prescott looked her over doubtfully. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“You have to be at least twenty-three.”
“And you have to follow orders,” I added sardonically.
“Oh. Well, never mind, then.” She slumped back down again.
“So Lilith was one of your cases?” I asked Prescott.
He nodded. “Most demon incursions are pretty easy to identify and eliminate. We get reports of strange creatures roaming around or violent murders and we can usually track down the demon responsible within a few hours. Succubi are much more subtle.” He eyed Daraxandriel again and his familiar Merlin glared balefully at her from under his chair. “They can operate for years before we catch wind of them.”
“But you knew Lilith was in New Orleans.”
“We got lucky. We have an arrangement with the NSA’s domestic surveillance program. They alert us to anything that might signal a succubus encounter. People who sell their souls in return for some benefit often brag about their changes in fortune. Olivia Benoit’s hospital videos triggered an alert when she mentioned Lily and receiving a lot of money.”
“I wasn’t bragging,” Olivia grumbled. She sat between me and Daraxandriel, clad in her borrowed shift. “I was grateful.” Merlin growled at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.
“I flew down to New Orleans as soon as I got the report,” Prescott went on. “I found Olivia and convinced her to let me bind her soul to my amulet before she died.” He parted the collar of his shirt, revealing a worn silver coin hanging from a thin leather cord. “After Lilixandriel claimed her soul, I tracked her here to Hellburn. Then I lost her.” He glanced sideways at Mrs. Kendricks, who refused to look embarrassed.
“It was the right thing to do,” she said firmly. “I still believe that.”
“Except that she got away and she’s planning to send more demon lords to kill Peter,” he retorted. “Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not,” she replied heatedly, “but Dara doesn’t deserve to suffer for her sister’s crimes. You certainly didn’t seem to mind her leading you around after us,” she added pointedly.
“I thought she was helping me!” he protested. “We were able to use her Philosopher’s Stone to track Olivia’s soul.”
“My Philosopher’s Stone,” I reminded him sourly. “She stole it from me.”
“In my own defense,” Prescott said irritably, “she was very convincing, but that’s the hallmark of a succubus. She shouldn’t have been able to fool my detector spell, though.” He frowned down at the palm of his right hand.
“How does that work?” Susie asked eagerly. “Can I learn that?”
“It’s pretty simple. It just reacts to the auras of the people I touch.” Prescott reached over to rest his hand on Mrs. Kendricks’ arm and then held it up for the rest of us to see. A black crescent moon showed on his palm, already fading away. “It didn’t react at all to her.”
“My Dread Lord cursed me with humanity for my transgressions,” Daraxandriel explained reluctantly. “Lilixandriel took my curse upon herself to escape thy pursuit.”
“She wasn’t human back at the library,” he pointed out.
“Bellaxragor removed the curse from her and cast it upon Peter Simon Collins.” Her glowing eyes dimmed at the memory. “Even the Philosopher’s Stone was not enough to save him.”
“I recovered,” I assured her, “thanks to Olivia.” Olivia ducked her head shyly, but not before I caught her pleased smile. “Speaking of which, we still need to remove her bond to the Stone. She can’t ascend while she’s tied to it.”
“I don’t want to go!” Olivia protested. “I like it here!”
“That’s all well and good, but if we don’t do anything, you’ll be stuck getting dragged along behind me wherever I go. Is that what you want?” I liked Olivia but I didn’t want her chained to me for the rest of my life, however brief that might be.
“Well, no,” she admitted.
“Good, so let’s get it done,” I said firmly.
“I agree,” Mrs. Kendricks nodded. “Let’s get that taken care of while we’re all together. Susie?”
“Fine,” Susie sighed, as if we just asked her to clean her room. “Let’s see it.”
I pulled the Stone out from under my shirt and held it up by its chain. Mrs. Kendricks leaned closer with a frown.
“Is that spark brighter now?” she asked. I inspected the Stone doubtfully. The tiny glow bounced around inside the Stone like a caffeinated firefly trapped in a ruby jar.
“It might be,” I acknowledged. “Do you know what it is?”
“I can’t imagine. Ryan?”
Prescott shook his head. “I don’t have any idea but I don’t deal with crystals much. Fay might know but she’s in England at the moment.”
“Fay?”
“My boss. We can try asking Paula – Agent Shelby – when she gets here tomorrow,” he suggested. “She’s our expert on wardstones and crystal artifacts.”
“Cool,” Susie said. “Maybe we can compare notes.” She leaned past Daraxandriel and Olivia and rapped the Stone sharply with the tip of her wand, sending it swinging wildly. “Lapis anima dimittere,” she pronounced and the world novaed in a painful flash of blood-red light.
“Susie!” I dropped the Stone and tried to scrub away the spots in my eyes. “What the hell?”
Nobody answered and I blinked away the tears as Mrs. Kendricks’ back yard slowly returned to its normal hue. Everyone else was still frozen in shock, wincing from the flash or gaping at me. Susie had her wand outstretched, frowning in concentration.
“You couldn’t at least have warned us?” I griped. She didn’t react at all. “Susie?” Nothing. She didn’t so much as blink. “Susie, are you okay?” I asked worriedly. “Guys, what’s wrong with –” My voice trailed off as I realized everyone else was in exactly the same state, locked into whatever position they were in the moment Susie cast her spell.
“Guys?” I carefully reached out and touched Melissa’s hand, half-raised to shade her eyes. She looked perfectly normal but she was absolutely immobile, as if she’d been replaced with an exact replica made of stone. I slowly got to my feet, looking around as my heart thumped a double-time rhythm in my chest.
The slight breeze that had been swirling around the patio was gone and the air felt thick and heavy. There were no sounds at all – no cars in the distance, no birds chirping, no dogs barking – just the harsh rasp of my breathing in my ears. It was like time had suddenly stopped for everyone except me.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. Obviously Susie’s spell had gone horribly wrong but all of the people who could possibly do something about it were caught in its effects. “Mrs. Kendricks?” I waved my hand in front of her face but there was no response. I patted her cheek and got the same result, nothing. “Agent Prescott?” Snapping my fingers beside his ear accomplished nothing.
I looked around again, trying to keep my rising sense of panic at bay. Maybe this wasn’t a botched spell after all. Maybe Lilixandriel already found another demon lord to send after me, one with the ability to stop time, and he was just waiting for the right moment to strike. I spun around in a circle but there were no ravenous, razor-clawed, needle-fanged creatures in sight.
No, I told myself firmly, that can’t be it. Mrs. Kend
ricks has wards all around her property. Demons can’t get in.
Wards didn’t prevent whatever this is from affecting everyone, I argued with myself. Mrs. Kendricks is a powerful witch but she’s obviously not powerful enough.
Maybe whatever it is isn’t affecting them, it’s affecting me, I countered. Maybe they’re not slowed down at all, maybe I’m sped up. I peered closely at Melissa’s face, trying to discern if her eyes were moving at all, but I didn’t see so much as a twitch.
Think, Peter, think! I berated myself. Who else might be able to help? I knew the names of most of the other members of Mrs. Kendricks’ coven but I didn’t have their phone numbers. Except they’d be frozen too, wouldn’t they? I thought doubtfully. How far does this go?
I squeezed out from the circle of chairs and ran around the side of Mrs. Kendricks’ house. The street out front was empty except for Mom’s minivan parked behind Prescott’s black SUV and none of the neighbors were in sight. I searched the sky for any passing airplanes but it was perfectly clear, without so much as a bird or a streak of cloud showing against the expanse of blue overhead.
I pulled out my phone but it refused to respond to my increasingly frustrated taps on the screen. I toyed with the idea of driving into town to see how far the time stoppage or whatever it was extended, but I didn’t want to leave everyone sitting here helpless, not until I understood the situation better.
Instead, I returned to the patio and gnawed on my lip as I contemplated the seven people and one cat sitting motionless around the circle. Nothing changed during my brief absence, except – I held my breath as I leaned closer to Olivia. I can see through her.
I moved to her side and carefully poked her shoulder. I met no resistance, although my finger felt cold. She was definitely a ghost again. She was still wearing her shift but her nightgown was showing through in spots. She must have popped when Susie’s spell went off, I mused. That was interesting but not terribly surprising and it didn’t help me figure out what was going on.
I stood back, chewing on my lip as I tried to decide what to do next, and I heard a brief titter of laughter, quickly stifled. I whirled around but there was no one else in sight. “Hello?” I called, feeling the hairs on the back of neck stand up. “Is someone there?”
Silence surrounded me and I clutched the Philosopher’s Stone like a talisman. I didn’t have any weapons or magical powers. I was completely helpless if something decided to leap out at me from the shadows, which suddenly seemed a lot darker than they were before. I tried to tell myself that it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but then I heard another giggle right behind me.
I spun around, raising my fists to confront whatever terror awaited me, and found myself staring at empty space. I listened carefully over the staccato thudding of my heart but everything was quiet again.
Is Olivia playing some stupid game of hide-and-seek with me? I wondered doubtfully, but no, she was still sitting there. Where’s that laughter coming from?
“Hello.”
“Gah!” I literally jumped two feet in the air, came down off-balance, stumbled over my chair, windmilled my arms, and landed hard on my butt. I gaped up at the figure standing over me, grinning at me in delight.
She couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old, with pale skin, straight black hair and icy blue eyes. She wore a short dress that I could only describe as Victorian loli goth, completely black with way too many bows, frills, and petticoats, matching her black knee-high stockings, black buckle shoes, and black hair ribbons.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she told me, even as her smile spread even wider. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you, Peter?”
“I, uh, no, I, um, I’m –” I wrested back control of my babbling tongue. “Who are you?” I demanded, wincing at the squeak in my voice. “How do you know my name?”
“Oh, Peter,” she said, tilting her head coquettishly, “I know everything about you. I’ve been watching you ever since you put on my father’s soulstone.”
“Your father’s soulstone?” Technically, the Philosopher’s Stone was mine now, bound to me by my blood. Four hundred and thirty years ago, though, Daraxandriel stole it from – “The Dread Lord?”
Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Yes, that’s him.”
I stared at the girl incredulously and then snorted. “You’re not His daughter.”
Her smile faded out, replaced by an irritated scowl. “Yes, I am,” she insisted.
“No, you’re not.” I clambered to my feet and slapped the dust from my jeans. “You don’t look anything like a demon.”
“Oh?” she asked coldly. “And what do demons look like?”
“Well, like her.” I waved a hand in Daraxandriel’s direction.
“Really,” she said dryly. “And how many demons have you met?”
“Um, four?” I admitted. To be fair, I didn’t actually get a good look at Metraxion before he dragged Dr. Bellowes down to Hell, but Daraxandriel, Lilixandriel, and Bellaxragor all had the classic demon motif going for them.
“Right.” She favored me with an exaggerated eyeroll this time. “And that makes you an expert on demons, does it?”
“Well, maybe not,” I conceded, “but you don’t sound like a demon either.”
“Wouldst thou have me converse in the style of ages past, Peter Simon Collins?” she said snidely, in a perfect imitation of Daraxandriel’s speech. “’Twould greatly prolong our discussion and we are pressed for time.”
“Okay, fine, but you’re still just a kid.”
“I’m older than you are,” she smirked.
“You’re not even a teenager yet!”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” she reminded me.
“Wait, are you saying you don’t actually look like this?” I asked doubtfully.
“Maybe,” she teased, recovering her smile. I couldn’t be sure, but her upper canines looked a teeny bit longer and pointier than a normal girl’s.
“Well, regardless, the Dread Lord isn’t your father,” I insisted.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because evil demon lords don’t have tweenie daughters dressed up like dolls!” That wasn’t perhaps the most persuasive argument I could have made but the whole situation was just too surreal.
“Peter, Peter, Peter,” she said, shaking her head at my naiveté. “If our Dread Lord wants a daughter, He gets a daughter. But I know you’re just going to keep arguing with me about it so let’s skip right to the part where I convince you I’m telling the truth. Hold still.”
She stepped right up to me and reached up to point her finger at the center of my forehead. She was a foot shorter than me so she almost had to stand on her tiptoes to do it. “This will only hurt a little bit,” she promised as she touched her finger to my skull. “Maybe.”
5
Satan is only mentioned a handful of times in the Bible, primarily when he tempts Jesus in the desert. He also appears in the Book of Revelation during the epic battle between Heaven and Hell and most people believe he was the serpent in the Garden of Eden, even though the Book of Genesis doesn’t actually come out and say that. Other than that, Satan was actually a pretty minor character in the grand scheme of things.
He didn’t hit the big time as the Prince of Darkness until the late Middle Ages, around the time people began believing in demons and witchcraft. The Bible doesn’t describe Satan at all but it’s traditional to depict him with horns, a tail, and cloven hooves, sometimes with bat wings thrown in for good measure. A lot like Bellaxragor Stormreaper, now that I think of it.
Over time, Satan got mixed in with a lot of other beliefs and myths. One of the more popular ones is that Satan is actually Lucifer the Lightbringer, a beautiful and powerful archangel who challenged God for the throne of Heaven and who was cast down into Hell for his pride and arrogance. There he seeks to corrupt mankind while gathering an army of demons and fallen angels to conquer Heaven. It’s all complete n
onsense, of course. After all, demons and witches are just figments of people’s hyperactive imaginations, right?
The world spun around me like a whirlwind and then –
Molten brimstone etched away my flesh and ignited my clothing, sending noxious smoke and flames up around my head as I writhed in agony. In the brief moment before my eyes boiled in my skull, I saw countless others all around me, burning like gruesome candles, and their shrieks raked my ears like ragged claws. I opened my mouth to scream with them but the caustic air seared my lungs and scoured my throat, leaving me with no voice. Blind and choking and burning alive, I collapsed into the lake of fire and –
I found myself on my hands and knees on Mrs. Kendricks’ patio, sucking in the sweet, clean, cool air as the pain faded away to just a hint of a memory. A pair of glossy black shoes appeared in my field of view and I scrabbled backwards frantically until I collided with one of the concrete planters edging the patio. The girl looked down at me with her hands on her nonexistent hips.
“So,” she said tartly, “are you convinced or should I try something else?”
“No!” I squeaked. “I’m convinced!” I levered myself to my feet, ready to run for it if she got any closer.
“Good,” she nodded in smug satisfaction. “Now, let’s get down to business.”
“Bu-bu-business?”
“Absolutely. I’m prepared to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime.” Her smile had a chilling edge to it this time.
“You can’t have my soul!” I protested. “I’m not signing anything!”
“Pfft,” she said dismissively. “I don’t deal with souls. That’s what they’re for.” She flicked her wrist at Daraxandriel.
“You can’t take the Philosopher’s Stone either!” I clutched it protectively.
“No,” she sighed, “I don’t want the Stone.”
“Hang on a minute. You’re not here to kill me?” I asked doubtfully.
“Well, I can if you want,” she shrugged.
“No, that’s okay,” I assured her quickly. “So what are you doing here then?”
Necessary Evil Page 6
