Spells & Ashes

by Kim Richardson

  Not to mention that Vargal hadn’t taken the kid’s soul, which meant he could still be in danger. Until I could figure out what Vargal did to him, if anything, he needed to stay with me. Sorry, parents, but it was for their own good too. It’s not like I was going to keep him. I’d probably take him to his parents in a day or two and in one piece.

  There was still the issue of why the Greater demon picked the boy. It wasn’t a random pick. I was certain of it. Now I just needed to figure out why.

  With Logan’s help, we’d hailed a cab and taken Colin back to my place. Logan had left with the cabbie without even saying goodbye. That had stung a little.

  “Give him a shot of gin,” said my grandfather, raising his own glass. “That should loosen his tongue.”

  I shot my grandpa a look. “I’m not going to give him alcohol.” Especially when I had the feeling this was my grandfather’s broomshine he was drinking. God knew what was in there.

  I looked back at the kid. He was just a freaking kid. “Colin. I have leftover pizza from yesterday. I can heat it up. I think I’m going to have some too.” Realizing I was starving, I was already salivating at the thought of pizza.

  I pushed my chair back and went to the fridge, pulled out the pizza from the box, and stuffed it in the oven. Then I poured a tall glass of water, sprinkled in some rosemary and sandalwood, mixed it with a spoon, and placed it next to Colin.

  “Drink this,” I instructed. “It’ll help you feel better. I promise. Drink it all, please.”

  The boy looked at Poe. The raven was perched on the backrest of the seat next to him. Colin seemed to have formed an attachment to Poe, and he seemed more relaxed with the raven close to him.

  “She’s right, Colin,” encouraged Poe. “It will help. Drink it.”

  Colin took the glass as soon as I sat back down and drank it all. The poor kid was thirsty. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the glass back down, his large brown eyes on me.

  I cocked a brow. That went a lot easier than I thought.

  Still, for a human kid, he’d taken the “talking raven” thing fairly well. Sure, some ravens were known to say a few words, but not carry out full sentences or participate fully in a conversation. Because that would be weird.

  And the boy seemed at ease with it all, as though he and Poe were longtime buddies. Strange.

  My grandfather made a noise in his throat. I darted my gaze to him. He was eyeing me in the manner of “ask him already.”

  I scowled at him and then folded my hands on the table. “How old are you, Colin?” I began, thinking this line of questioning was a warm up for the more serious stuff.

  “Fourteen,” answered the kid.

  “Really?”

  “I know.” He let out a sigh, telling me that I wasn’t the first person to react that way. “I’m small for my age.”

  Yes, he was. I thought he was about ten.

  “Don’t worry. You still have lots of growing to do,” said my grandpa, a smile on his face. “I was small too. But then when I was seventeen, I sprouted like a weed. Tall and lean.”

  Colin eyed my grandfather. “You’re a witch too.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

  “Born a witch,” said my grandfather proudly and took another swig of his gin before smacking his lips together.

  “Are you powerful?” asked Colin, his face blank. “Can you kill monsters with your magic?”

  Ah-ha. I knew where he was going with that.

  My grandfather leaned his elbows on the table. “As a matter of fact—”

  “Colin,” I said, cutting off my grandfather. “I know you’re tired. You’ve had a long night. A scary night. But I need you to tell me everything that happened. Starting with when you first saw that monster.”

  The kid was silent and pensive as he stared without blinking at his empty glass. “Through my bedroom window. Then in my room.”

  I clenched my jaw. Bastard. He took the kid from his bedroom.

  “I was playing video games. I always play video games at night, after my homework’s done.” He pulled his eyes to me. “I’d never seen a real monster before. Just on TV, you know. Never a real one. Never in my house.”

  “Your parents. Do they know you’re missing?”

  Colin shook his head. “I don’t think so.” His face scrunched up into a frown. “I didn’t scream. I didn’t even fight back. I just... I just let him take me.”

  My heart clenched at the pain mixed with defeat I saw in his eyes. “Listen to me, Colin. This isn’t your fault. He probably put a demon trance spell on you. It makes you feel like you’re in a dreamlike state and not in control of your own body. There was nothing you could have done.”

  “You did,” said the kid, frustration set in his jaw. “You fought him. He didn’t put a spell on you.”

  I took a breath. “No. But that’s because I was ready for him. I was prepared. I knew what he was. You didn’t.”

  “Who is he?” asked Colin, a slight tension in his voice.

  I shared a look with my grandfather. “His name is Vargal,” I said, turning back to the boy. “And yes, he’s a monster, but he’s what we call a Greater demon.”

  “A Greater demon,” repeated the kid. “He’s a demon, demon. Like the ones that live in Hell?”

  “The very same,” answered my grandpa as he poured himself another drink. “But we call Hell the Netherworld. And Vargal is like a CEO there. He’s a boss. And a real bastard to be kidnapping kids.”

  “So, if demons are real, it’s only logical to think that angels exist too,” inquired Colin, looking a little older than before.

  “Unfortunately,” muttered Poe, and I shot him a glare.

  “The other guy that was helping me tonight,” I told Colin. “That was Logan. He’s an angel-born, which means he has angel essence running through his veins. Just like we witches have demon blood.” I saw the kid frown so I added. “Forget what you’ve been told or read about demons. They’re not all bad. Some are good. Just like some angels are bad.”

  “Worse than demons,” interjected my granddad.

  “Worse than demons, yes,” I agreed. I let out a sigh. “There’s so much you don’t know, and we can’t get to it all in one night. For one thing, humans don’t usually see demons. Just us half-breeds and angel-borns, the paranormals. But Vargal appeared to you, to frighten you. He wanted you to see him in that form.”

  Colin’s gaze became sharp on mine. “Could you teach me some spells?” asked the kid. “Like the fireballs? To protect myself?”

  Damn. My chest tightened. He wanted to learn magic. I really liked this kid. “The demon blood in our bodies help us conjure magic. It’s in us. Humans don’t have magic in them, unless one of their ancestors was a witch, then yes. But there are basic spells that you can draw on the powers of the elements. I’ll teach you those. But I can’t teach you the fireball spells. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” Colin’s eyes went back down. “I understand.”

  With a clatter of wings, Poe hopped on the backrest and moved closer to Colin. “It’ll be okay, Colin. Don’t you worry.”

  Not if I didn’t figure out why Vargal wanted the kid. “Colin. Can you think of any reason why Vargal took you tonight?” Please, give me something. Anything.

  The kid’s eyes went wide as he stared at me. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “What did he say to you?” I tried again, remembering how Vargal had been whispering to the kid when we got there.

  Colin paled. “He said he would kill my parents.” He slumped back in his chair. “The demon said that if I didn’t let him inside me, he would kill them. He kept repeating it, over and over again. And he told me how he would kill them.” He swallowed, the memory obviously too painful to talk about. “I felt like I was in a dream. I just wanted to wake up. For the monster to be gone. But when I didn’t say yes, he started to hurt me. It was like... I was on fire, but from the inside. And that’s when you showed up.” He pressed h
is lips firmly together. “I... I almost said yes.”

  “But you didn’t,” I said, impressed at this kid’s will. “You resisted, which is incredible for someone so young.”

  “And human,” said Poe, pulling the words right out of my mouth. “It’s why Vargal was so frustrated. He couldn’t break him.”

  Poe was right. But did it mean Vargal had given up on Colin and was looking for his replacement? Or would he come back for him? I hated not knowing. I hated that Logan had left without even a word.

  “The kid’s got balls,” said my grandpa, raising his glass. “I like him.”

  That rewarded him a small smile from Colin. He was polite and sweet and well-mannered, every parent’s dream. What a cute kid. He didn’t deserve what Vargal had done to him tonight. But at least he was alive. Thank the cauldron. I wanted to keep it that way.

  Julia’s frightened face flashed in my mind’s eye. Guilt flared up, and I squashed it.

  “Colin,” I said, my tension rising again, “do you remember anything else Vargal said to you? Something that might be important? Something about a ritual maybe? Or a name? Did he mention a name?” If I knew more about what ritual he was performing and for whom, I could work with that. But it still didn’t explain why he took Colin, or Julia, or the three other bodies still in the morgue.

  Looking dejected, Colin shook his head. “He didn’t mention anything like that.” Panic creased his features making me regret that I’d asked. I was pushing him too hard too soon.

  “It’s okay,” I told him, trying to reel in my emotions as to not let the kid think he had done something wrong. “We’ll try again tomorrow. It’s late. You need some rest.” A ting came from the stove, and I pushed my chair back and got up. Grabbing two plates, I topped them both with a slice of peperoni-and-cheese pizza.

  I placed Colin’s plate in front of him and then sat down. Taking my slice in my hands, I bit in, the juices spilling from the corners of my mouth. I nearly moaned. It was heavenly. I always thought pizza was even better the next day.

  I took a napkin and wiped the edges of my mouth, just as Colin took a bite of his pizza. I felt some tension leave my body as I watched the kid chew on his pizza. “I’m going to prepare the guest bedroom for you. Tomorrow I’ll get you a change of clothes. I think it’s best that you stay here with us for a while. Until we know why Vargal took you.”

  Colin shifted in his seat. “Okay,” he said between chews, surprising the hell out of me. He’d accepted us, this place, and the community really fast. Who was this kid?

  I took another bite of my pizza and watched Colin chew his. I didn’t get any witch vibes or any paranormal senses from him. He was definitely human. Still, there was something about him. Something Vargal wanted to kill for.

  Silence descended, and I shoved the last piece of crust in my mouth. “I don’t have video games, but you’re welcome to borrow my laptop or any books you might like to read.”

  Colin brightened at the idea. “Thanks.”

  I smiled at him. “You’ll be safe here.”

  “Absolutely,” said my granddad, and he leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs. “There’s no safer place than right here in Witches Row. That wretched demon would be a fool indeed if he thinks he can reach you here.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Vargal had proven himself very capable indeed to snatch a human kid from his home.

  Colin put his slice down silently. And then he looked at me said, “You’re right. I’m not safe anywhere.”

  I leaned forward. “Colin, I won’t let that demon hurt you again.” I promise.

  “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” said the kid.

  I froze. Then frowned. “How did you... did you just...”

  “Read your mind?” Colin shrugged. “Yeah. I can read people’s minds. I’ve been doing it since I was little. It’s annoying and gives me migraines. But I learned to shut them out. Mostly.”

  “You read minds,” I repeated, floored, and blinking like an idiot as my grandfather made a strangled sound of surprise and then fell off his chair and hit the ground with a loud crash.

  Poe looked as impressed as a raven could look.

  Holy Hell. Colin was a psychic.

  18

  Needless to say, the following morning I read everything I could about psychics. I knew the basics, well, just one actually—the mind reading—but after spending hours reading, I found out that not all psychics shared the same abilities. And not all were created equally, just like witches.

  And I’m not talking about the fortune tellers or what I’d like to call, fortune scammers. I’m taking about real clairvoyants.

  Some psychics had the ability of precognition or premonition, the ability to perceive future events. Not to be confused with prophecy, the ability to predict the future, or Second Sight, which allowed them to see in the future and the past. Other psychics could communicate with the dead, able to tune in to the spirit world. They called it Channeling, and it was very popular with the police department on cold cases or when a child went missing. Some were even skilled with astral projection, the out-of-body experience, in which the astral body is felt to temporarily separate from the physical body.

  There was also Dream Walking, the ability to enter people’s dreams, and Hallucination, the ability to cause mental hallucinations, which sounded like a disturbing and very dangerous skill to have.

  Another ability was aura reading, the ability to perceive the aura or energy fields surrounding people. Some were just sensitive to the aura of a person, which enabled them to access information from the emotional, physical, and spiritual parts of the auric field containing all the information about a person’s life.

  After hours of reading and research, I’d discovered that most psychics only possessed one ability. Having more than one was extremely rare and almost unheard of.

  Colin had four.

  I’d seen with my own eyes that one of his abilities was telepathy, the ability to read or sense another person’s thoughts, to communicate with them mentally or affect their minds and thoughts.

  According to Colin, another one of his abilities was telekinesis, the ability to manipulate objects with his mind. I would have killed for that kind of ability. No more kinetic spells to move air. I just had to think about blasting a demon out of the way, and I could.

  He also had the gift of reading people’s auras. It explained how he felt such at ease with us and how he quickly warmed up to us. He could sense we weren’t evil and only wanted to help and protect him.

  The last one was Mind Control, the ability to manipulate the minds of others via thought process—probably his most powerful ability. It also explained how Colin could resist Vargal’s demonic influence. Was his mind too powerful for Vargal to open? I didn’t know, but I was glad we’d found him in time to prevent it.

  Colin was a psychic, not just a telepath, because he’d demonstrated more abilities. That made him a very strong psychic.

  They were so rare I’d never even met one. And by the way, my granddad had been ogling the poor kid: he hadn’t either.

  Poe, on the other hand, had met a few in his existence, and he was going to tell me everything he knew.

  “So, if psychics are human,” I began, and tossed the book I was reading, “they don’t have any demonic essence in them. Then how did these abilities manifest? There’s nothing about that in any of these books.”

  Poe stood on a chair facing me. “There’s a simple reason for that,” he said, plucking out a feather and spitting it out.

  “What reason?” I said, frustrated, as I looked at the raven’s black eyes, not seeing a damn thing.

  He reached over and clasped a sunflower seed in between his claws. Using his beak, he snapped it open and then popped the kernel into his mouth and said, “It wouldn’t be in any of your books.”

  I rolled my eyes and pressed my hands on my hips. “Poe. Do you know where they got these powers? If you do, you have to tell
me.”

  “What do you give me in return?” he demanded, pecking at another seed.

  If his information wasn’t essential to this case, I would have plucked him like a chicken. “What do you want?” I sighed.

  “A month’s supply of sunflower seeds.”

  “Done.”

  “And two nights off a week.”

  I frowned. “You’re pushing it. You’re my familiar. You go—”

  “Who’s entitled to a little time off once in a while,” said Poe. “You give Faris nights off. It’s only fair that I get some too. It’s good for the soul, and I need to stretch my wings,” he added, rolling his shoulders. “Work my pectoralis muscles. I won’t be good to you if I can’t fly anymore.”

  “Fine,” I said, “but only if you promise not to bother Vera anymore.” God help me, I was still wondering what he’d meant about knowing her secret.

  Poe spit a shell from his mouth. “Fine. I’ll leave the old hag alone. But if she attacks first, I’ll be within my rights to defend myself.”

  “You’re so such a drama queen, and you know it.” I didn’t know why he wanted two nights off, and I didn’t ask. “And only when this business with Vargal is finished, and only if I don’t need you on any other cases. Deal?”

  Poe looked at me with his raven eyes. “Deal.” He cracked open another seed. “Psychics are fundamentally human, but they were given their powers from the angels.”

  “Really?” Now I was really interested. “Why?”

  “It started out as just a manner of communication between the angels and a few selected humans. They were gifted with divination, the ability to communicate with the angels. Either to spy on the angel-born or for other reasons that I don’t know. But I do know that over time, this ability manifested and changed. It evolved into other abilities. Stronger abilities. Other psychic powers.”