Did I mention this was seriously not my night?
“You have no power over me, half-breed,” laughed the demon, a sneer to her voice.
My magic didn’t work. The exorcism that should have released the girl did absolutely nothing. Head pounding like I’d hit it with a sledgehammer, I blinked and rolled over to my side.
Demon-Julia walked over to me and snarled, “I’m going to feast on your flesh, little witch.”
Oh. Shit.
2
Real fear gnawed in my stomach. Not for me, but for Julia. My exorcism sigil hadn’t worked.
It wasn’t that I had used English. It didn’t matter what language you used when doing spells or incantations—if the meaning was the same. I could have said the incantation in Latin, but in these stressful moments, I always opted for English when I did an exorcism. In case I screwed up.
I had countless other seals and sigils I could use on the demon, but all of them would kill the girl instantly. The confident smile on the demon’s face told me it knew this. It knew I wanted the girl alive and preferably not injured, but that was asking a lot.
Damn it. I had to protect myself. If I was dead, I couldn’t really help Julia. Now could I? But first, I had to do something about the pain.
My head throbbed with the pressure of my blood, making me dizzy. From the inside of my jacket, I pulled out a pen and drew an anti-pain sigil on my left wrist. It wouldn’t save me from death, but it would help to numb the pain from broken bones or a concussion, which was probably what was making me dizzy. My mortal body had limits that couldn’t be avoided, and it appeared I had reached mine.
As soon as the sigil was finished, I uttered, “Sine dolore.”
I felt a tingling and sighed in relief as the pain in my head subsided, at least for a little while or until the ink absorbed through my skin. I took a slow breath. God, that felt good.
I glanced at the two gold rings on each hand, each engraved with powerful sigils, peeking out from where I’d cut the fingers off my gloves, at the knuckles.
Some witches used a wand or an amulet as a magical focus to create various fire and wind blasts. I used rings.
It took days of preparation to get them to work. Each ring stored the power from the sigils engraved into them, though the effects varied considerably with intent and the individual witch. The more powerful the witch, the more power she could draw from the rings.
Still, all good things must come to an end. The energy in the rings would eventually run out. When that happened, I’d just have to make new ones.
If I couldn’t use my magic without killing the girl, I’d need to resort to the only other weapon I had with me—a small dagger.
I yanked it out and nearly laughed. It was puny, a pathetic-looking weapon, barely the size of a pocketknife. Worse, I had no idea how to fight with it. I wasn’t trained in martial arts or any hand-to-hand combat. I was trained in dark magic, specifically Goetia—the practice of conjuring demons and making them do my bidding.
But I hadn’t summoned this demon. I had no idea who it was or why it was here possessing this poor, innocent girl, though I had a feeling I was about to find out. Yay me.
I pulled myself to my feet and thrust the sorry-looking dagger at demon-Julia. “Poke it with the pointy end, right?”
Demon-Julia made a gesture with her head, and my super dagger was yanked out of my hand. I watched as it flew across the room.
“Guess not.” Okay. It wanted to play hardball? I had just the thing.
I spit the blood from my mouth and pulled out another chalk as I dropped to my knees again. I drew a triangle-shaped sigil in record time of about four seconds and wrote the name Aamon in Latin in the center. Then I added a circle three feet behind it, wrote five archangel names around it within a coiled serpent, and stepped into it, my body shaking with adrenaline.
Demon-Julia laughed harder. “I haven’t decided whether to eat you now or let myself be entertained as you perform your ridiculous magic.”
“I’d prefer not to be eaten, thanks.”
“It’s all rather silly and inconsequential,” continued the demon, laughter still in her voice. “But I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’ll give you two minutes before I eat you.”
“Great,” I answered, not knowing what to say.
“You witches are all the same,” said demon-Julia, a note of casual arrogance in her tone. “Clueless with limited magic and no knowledge of how to use it, especially in one as young as you. You’re wasting your time with your scribbles. I told you. Your witch magic won’t work on me.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” But I wasn’t going to use my witch magic. The demon thought I was a regular dark witch and weak. That was its first mistake.
But I wanted it to keep thinking that.
I had to immobilize demon-Julia and figure out why my exorcism sigil hadn’t worked. For that, I needed a little muscle help.
Demon-Julia picked her teeth with a fingernail. “You’re a little scrawny, yet I suspect there’s enough meat to pluck off your bones. Besides, mortal flesh all tastes the same—like chicken.”
I threw up a little in my mouth.
The demon started for me in long, easy strides like it was strolling through the park. It was doing that on purpose.
“What happened to my two minutes?” I asked.
The demon smiled. “I lied.”
Working fast, I willed my mind to focus while I recited the incantation, channeling the magic from the summoning circle and triangle. “I conjure you, Aamon, demon of the Netherworld, to be subject to the will of my soul. I bind you with unbreakable adamantine fetters, and I deliver you into the black chaos in perdition.”
As demon-Julia neared, her smile was terrifying, like that of a lion before it took a bite from the neck of its prey and ripped out its jugular. I had seconds.
My heart thrashed as I cried, “I invoke you, Aamon, in the space in front of me!”
The light from the candles flickered, sending looming, twisting shadows to dance on the walls. My skin prickled from a sudden wind blowing around me.
Demon-Julia froze.
It was my turn to smile.
My nose wrinkled at the added smell of sulfur, the stink of demon. Immediately, I felt a pull in my chest from the energy channeling from the circle. Heat rushed from me, leaving a sick, cold feeling in my stomach—the usual whenever conjuring demons. Do not attempt this at home.
My vision tunneled for a second. I’d been pushing too hard, but I couldn’t stop.
Over the pulsing in my ears, the power of the circle ran through me like a shot of adrenaline, but then the pull subsided.
There, in the middle of my chalk-drawn triangle was a huge black wolf with a serpent’s tail.
“Seize the girl! And bring her to me!” I commanded the demon, careful not to move from my circle, which was my only protection from the demon I’d just summoned.
Aamon growled at me, slowly pulling back its lips to show me teeth the size of kitchen knives. It was clearly pissed, but it had no choice but to obey. Hence why it was so pissed.
The wolf demon turned and lunged at demon-Julia, who was looking at me with a sour expression like I’d just set fire to her priceless doll collection.
Aamon hit demon-Julia with the force of a grizzly bear smacking a tree. Aamon wasn’t quite a blur, but he was fast as hell. The two went down in a jumble of limbs and fur and growls.
“Don’t hurt her!” I yelled again. “I need her alive.”
I let out a frustrated breath. Demons. You get what you summon.
Aamon was a lesser demon, so he didn’t always understand the subtle nuances of my commands. This being the thirteenth time I’d summoned him over the years, I was hoping he’d get the hang of things. And quickly.
“Attaboy, Aamon,” I cheered, seeing that he’d pinned demon-Julia on the floor. It was a little like role-playing if you will, and it didn’t always turn out the way I’d intended. Sometimes the
demons I summoned were just a little too strong and a little too wild, and the mortals got hurt. Hopefully tonight would go my way.
A smile twisted my face. “Well,” I exhaled, “this turned out better than I’d hoped. And you said my itty-bitty magic didn’t work on you.” I mocked it with my hands on my hips.
The rest of whatever I was going to say died in my throat.
Aamon was thrown back forcefully to the floor, his serpent tail slashing and thin, greenish-black fluid spraying everywhere in a disgusting shower. The smell was nauseating, and I held my breath before I started vomiting.
Demon-Julia was back on her feet, and I didn’t like the smile that appeared on her face nor the fact that her lips were moving in a spell. A chill rolled up my spine. Shit.
Aamon shuddered and leaped at her, landing a powerful strike of his serpent tail on demon-Julia’s thigh. The snake’s maw wrapped around her leg as its teeth sank into her flesh. Great. Now she would need stitches.
But her lips never stopped moving.
And then Aamon simply burst into flames.
I had to reel back from the sudden heat. The wolf demon howled in pain, its body consumed by blinding fire until nothing was left of it but a pile of ashes.
Oops. Well, this was unpleasant.
Damn. Whenever I thought things were going my way, something always went wrong.
Demon-Julia turned to face me. “Your conjuring skills are admirable for a mortal.” She leered. “Better than most.”
“I try.”
“But a lesser demon can’t kill me.”
“Can I quote you on that?” I gave her a smile to match her own. “So, what you’re telling me is I need to summon a Greater demon?” If a lesser demon couldn’t beat her, that meant there was either a Greater demon inside Julia or something more powerful. And far worse.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Demon-Julia moved too quickly for me to block the attack. I dropped my chalk as she seized me by the throat, lifted me off my feet, and slammed me against the wall. Black and white spots plagued my vision as I gasped to try and breathe. But the air wouldn’t come.
Hundreds of spells and sigils flicked through my mind, but all of them would kill the girl. I hadn’t expected to kill an innocent tonight, but if I didn’t do anything to save my own ass, I was demon meat.
“I’ll admit, I’ve enjoyed this little visit of yours.” She squeezed my throat harder. “You’re different from the other witches I’ve killed in the past. You’ve got spunk. I like spunk. Makes for a more stimulating meal. And the meat is sweeter, more tender on the younger ones.”
“Screw. You,” I managed with tears running down my face. My vision spun. If I didn’t get any air in me soon, I was going to pass out.
I twisted and grabbed her hands, trying to pry them open so I could breathe, but it was like trying to lift a car with my fingers. My lungs were starved for air, and darkness crept into my vision.
Demon-Julia brought her face within an inch from mine and then thrust out her tongue and started to lick my face slowly, hissing in mounting pleasure. I shivered. Now that was totally gross.
“Au revoir, darling,” she crooned.
Ah, screw it. I had to save my own ass.
Closing my eyes, I channeled the power inside me, the one I had sworn I’d never use. If I was found out, not only would demons want to kill me for it, but all the half-breeds and the entire paranormal community would be after me.
But I had no choice.
Demon-Julia squeezed harder, smiling as she watched my eyes intensely while the life drained out of them.
But it didn’t.
I drew on that forbidden power, and a well of it surged in me. But I only tapped into a small amount, enough for what I needed to do. My magic flew into me, through blood and flesh and bone. It was easy—way too easy—and very dangerous and seductive.
The power grew, strong and steady, seeping into me with a sort of hungry eagerness and replacing my pain and fear with nothing but power and ferocity.
With my hands still on hers, I reached out and tapped into the demon’s chi, her will, but only a small amount, praying she wouldn’t feel it. Part of the demon’s power spilled into me, mingling with my own.
And then I spoke a single word in my mind. Dimitte. Release me.
The pent-up power hit demon-Julia, sending her across the room roaring with fury. She smashed into the adjacent wall, shattering the drywall on impact, and sagged to the floor.
I fell to my knees, coughing as I breathed, trying to fill my lungs with glorious air. I loved air. Air was my friend. My vision swam in a nauseating swirl, and I took another breath, then another, my lungs starved for air.
“What devilry is this?” cried demon-Julia, a strange use of the word, especially coming from a demon no less. She was staring at the empty space where her hands used to be. Now rings of black energy spiraled around her wrists, moving slowly and erasing them.
Crap. Either I’d used more of the demon’s own power than I’d intended, or I’d mixed up my spell. I had been deprived of oxygen. My bad.
“Damn it. See what you made me do?” I rasped, my throat still on fire. “How am I going to explain to Julia or her mother why she doesn’t have hands anymore?” I was not looking forward to that conversation. I didn’t know of any spell or sigil that could grow back limbs.
My breath caught. Shit. Now her arms had vanished.
Nice going, Sam. This was going from bad to worse.
“This is impossible!” wailed demon-Julia while thrashing about and looking like an armless manikin.
Biting down on the nausea, which happens when I channel too much energy in too little time, I got to my feet. I was going to exorcise this demon, and this time it was going to work.
And then I’d figure out how to grow Julia’s arms and hands back. There had to be a reverse curse, like a magical “undo” button.
Smiling at the demon, I gave her a little wave. “It’s time for you to go bye-bye.”
I focused on the exorcism sigil, seeing it clearly in my mind, and channeled the energy that was still there. I took a stilling breath, stepped forward, and said, “In the name of our Lord Creator, I exorcise you, Demon.”
“Die! You half-breed bitch!” Demon-Julia threw herself at me, but without her arms for balance, she staggered like a drunk, nearly falling.
The sound of scuffing on the floor reached me.
A man in black clothes appeared in my line of sight. He was roughly six foot two, dark haired, and coldly handsome. His brown eyes burned with battle lust and excitement as he drew a silver dagger, glowing in the dimness, from the scabbard at his side. I’d seen those blades before. It was a soul blade, the daggers given to the angel-born from the angels themselves, forged in Horizon and said to have metal that was poisonous to demons.
And I knew another thing. This guy was an angel-born, primarily human but blessed with angel essence flowing in their veins—a secret race of humans created by the archangels, bred with supernatural abilities to be the eyes and ears of the Legion of Angels on Earth.
What the hell was an angel-born doing here? I hadn’t come across one in years. Make that five. Our kind just didn’t mix. Like cats and dogs, we weren’t enemies, just wired differently. Probably due to the simple fact that my ancestors were demons. Just like all half-breeds, we witches had a demon parent somewhere up the line.
My exorcism forgotten, I watched the stranger as he placed himself between demon-Julia and me. What’s this? My knight in shining armor? I didn’t think so.
Demon-Julia didn’t want any part of it either, and her face twisted in recognizable hate. The demon knew what the stranger was too.
Her lips moved, and a haze of darkness rose around her, coiling like rings of smoke until she disappeared under it. The swirling mist of darkness swayed and wavered. The air shifted, and then the haze lifted, revealing demon-Julia’s hands and arms, clothes and all, as though they’d never been gone.
Ah
-ha. So there was a magical “undo” button.
Demon-Julia’s eyes narrowed, and she spat on the floor. “Angel,” she snarled. Then in a burst of speed she launched herself at the stranger.
Before I could stop him, the angel-born raised his blade and stabbed the demon in the chest.
“No!” I slammed my shoulder against the stranger, knocking him off-balance for a moment.
Demon-Julia tore the blade from her chest and staggered back, holding the weapon in both hands in a panicked desperation. Blood gushed out of a wound in her chest, trickling down the front to her jeans. If I didn’t stop the bleeding, she was going to die.
“What are you doing?” cried the angel-born, looking at me like he wanted to stab me too as he pulled another one of his blades from his waist. If he tried anything, I was going to fry his ass.
“Me?” I shouted back, spindling a new sigil in my mind’s eye. “You’re the one who stabbed her.”
“She’s a demon,” he said incredulously.
“She’s a girl. She’s only being possessed.” What the hell was wrong with him?
“The girl is dead, you idiot,” he shouted back. “Look at her. She’s been dead a long time. What kind of backward witch are you?”
I narrowed my eyes. I was going to curse him for that. I didn’t care how fine his butt was.
But demon-Julia got there first. The girl seized him by the back of his jacket and spun him around, hitting him with a broad swing of her arm that literally knocked him off his feet.
The angel-born flew toward the nearest wall, half spinning in the air, and hit hard, the soul blade tumbling from his fingers. He looked up, eyes wide, and his expression stunned. Blood trickled from his nose and the corner of his mouth. And then he pushed himself to his feet, grabbed his weapon, and charged at the demon.
But I wouldn’t let this bastard kill her. Not while I still drew breath.
I stepped in front of demon-Julia, my lips moving with my exorcism spell as I began to pull the energy around me.
Spells & Ashes Page 2
