Spells & Ashes

by Kim Richardson

  Evanora tilted her head, her good eye focused on my grandfather. “Blood and bone, skin and nerve. May you get, what you deserve.” Her face twitched. “Still sleeping with all the witch widows, Gordon?”

  Smiling, my grandfather raised his glass at the old witch. “And you, Evanora, are still as ugly as a hatful of arseholes.”

  Oh. Hell.

  Logan snorted, and Poe cawed angrily at my grandfather, who sat back looking smug as he took another swig from his glass.

  “Grandpa,” I warned. Damn it. I didn’t need this right now. “Be civil, will you?”

  “She started it,” he growled, pointing a finger at her.

  “Just stop it! Both of you!” I yelled. “Vargal could be here any minute. I need you sharp.” My blood pressure rose, steaming my face, and giving me hot flashes. Kyllian and Logan were standing back, watching the exchange with smiles on their faces. Even better.

  “Aunt Evanora,” I said, glad my voice was even though my mind raced as fast as my heart. “Please tell me you deciphered the text.”

  The old witch nodded. “Evanora did.”

  My pulse leaped at the chance to see this through. I grabbed an empty chair and helped her settle in it. “Go on,” I urged, standing next to her.

  “The ritual your demon is performing,” she began, and shifted in her chair until she was comfortable, “is to raise an ancient and malevolent pagan god.” Her good eye focused on me. “Nergal. The Mesopotamian god of death, war, and destruction.”

  I felt Kyllian’s and Logan’s eyes on me, but I focused on my aunt. “He sounds charming.”

  “But to do so,” continued the old witch, “the demon must have, in his possession, the souls of five powerful psychics. Exceptional psychics.” Evanora lifted a gnarled finger and pointed at Colin. “Like this one,” she said, making the kid pale. “Very, exceptional.”

  I took a steadying breath. “What happens if he goes through and succeeds with this ritual?” End of the world. End of everything. It was always the same with gods. They hated humanity more than demons.

  Evanora moved her lips as though she was preparing what to say next. “That must never happen. If the demon gets his hands on the five psychic souls, he will complete the ritual, and Nergal will rise from the depths of darkness to scorch the Earth and everything living in it.”

  Of course he would. I hated being right. “So, as long as he can’t touch Colin, Vargal can’t raise this god.”

  Evanora made a grunt in agreement and focused her one good eye on Gordon across from her. The two old witches glared at one another in a silent challenge. My grandfather shifted in his chair, looking like he was about to jump up and throw himself at her. And Evanora looked like she wanted him to.

  I brought my gaze back to Colin. He couldn’t live like that, looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. That wasn’t a life. He was so young, and he had his whole life ahead of him. This was just wrong. But what choice did we have? Vargal would kill him, take his soul, and a nasty pagan god would rise and kill us all. This night was just getting better and better.

  “So we put teams around the clock to protect him,” said Logan, yanking me out of my thoughts. “I can have a team of angel-born Operatives here in less than a half hour. We can protect him.”

  “Angel-born?” snorted my aunt, her eyes lost in a deep frown and looking at Logan as though it were the first time she’d ever seen an angel-born. “Evanora does not require the help of the angel-born,” she added, her voice dripping with disdain and abhorrence. “The dark witch court can protect him. The dark witch court is all he needs.”

  Fury crossed Logan’s expression. His posture was stiff like he was trying really hard to stay calm, but it was a tremendous effort. Logan’s dark eyes went from me to Evanora and then to Kyllian, who was standing back and watching it all in a rather clinical way.

  I shifted uneasily. “I’m sure that’s true, Aunt Evanora,” I said, before a war broke out around the dining room table. “But we’ll need all the help we can get. At least until we figure out a way to stop Vargal. Colin can’t live like that forever.” My eyes found the boy again, and my insides twisted at the open fear I saw written on his face. “Until then, maybe we should take Logan’s offer.”

  “I can look after the boy,” said my grandfather, and he winked at Colin. “Me and Poe.”

  “You?” mocked Evanora, a slight shake to her shoulders. “When was the last time Gordon Beaumont produced a spell? From what Evanora recalls, you cannot even evoke a decent glamour to save yourself. Your magic is spent, old fool. You are practically human.”

  My grandfather’s wrinkles deepened as his jaw clenched, and his blue eyes were hard. He jumped to his feet. “I’ll show you just how incompetent I am, you insufferable old cow.”

  “Who are you calling old,” spat Evanora. “Mark Evanora’s words. You will be food for the worms very soon, Gordon Beaumont.”

  “Will you two just shut up!” Yes, that was rough and rude, and technically I was brought up to respect my elders, but they were acting like children, so I had veto. “Sit down, Grandpa.” I glared at him until he fell back into his chair, looking like a child whose favorite toy I’d taken away.

  “Cauldron help us all if Vargal decides to show up now,” I barked. “He’d have it way too easy. We’re all so strung up on our own stupid and selfish ideas that we’re not focusing on what really matters. Colin’s life.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment and rubbed my temples. When I looked up again, my eyes darted to Kyllian. “Do you think the angels would help?” If we had the help of the angel Legion, we might even defeat Vargal for good.

  The angel nodded and then drew himself up proudly. “Yes,” said Kyllian, his face honored and determined, like he was waiting for this chance to redeem himself from past horrors. “The angels will help. You can count on us.”

  “Ha!” Evanora smacked an open hand on the table. “Over Evanora’s dead body.”

  “I can arrange that,” exclaimed my grandfather. My heart pounded at the raw hatred in his eyes for her. Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Faster than I thought possible, Evanora flung out a hand and cried, “Feurantis!” A ball of fire blasted from her open palm and shot toward my grandfather.

  Oh. Crap. She was going to kill him.

  “Murus!” shouted my grandfather as he leaped to his feet. A shimmering wall of light blue rose up before him all the way to the ceiling just as the fireball hit. There was a powerful boom and then the ball exploded into thousands of tiny orange sparks before going out.

  “Fight! Fight!” cried Poe and pushed off into a flurry of wings. He flew up to settle above a tall armoire, safe with a view.

  I couldn’t help but notice that Logan and Kyllian had stepped back, giving the two old witches a wide berth. I didn’t think our angel relations would prosper if one of them got hit with a dark spell. Only Colin looked mildly entertained and excited. It was obvious the boy was drawn to magic. If we all survived this, I was definitely going to teach him some.

  Evanora, still sitting in her chair like a queen of magic on her throne, smiled wickedly and shouted, “Conlidam!”

  A wind rose suddenly around us, and then my grandfather’s protection wall shattered into a thousand tiny shards of glass. Now, that was impressive.

  My grandfather’s face was beet red, his hatred for Evanora seeping out of his pores in thick droplets. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them. This time they’d gone too far.

  I didn’t care if these two idiots killed each other, but they were not going to destroy my house.

  Just as my grandfather’s lips moved in a spell, I rushed over and put myself in front of him. “Enough,” I said, raising my hands. “That’s enough. I swear, if the two of you ruin my house, you’re going to pay for a new one. And I hear New York’s real estate’s not cheap.” My breath was fast as I challenged them, my eyes darting from my aunt to my grandfather.

  “You finished?” I prompted ye
t gave them another minute until I was certain their folly had passed before lowering my arms. “Good. Now,” I said with my hands on my hips, “where were we?” I’d had enough family drama for one night. The mental stress was so thick I could almost taste it.

  “The Greater demon must never get the fifth soul,” commented Evanora. Her gaze turned severe.

  “He won’t,” I answered.

  “Something’s wrong,” said Colin suddenly, and my gaze snapped to him at the sound of utter fear in his voice.

  “Colin?” I flung myself around the table to get closer to him. “What is it? What’s the matter? Is it Vargal?” I asked. My hip bumped against the edge of the table as I searched his face.

  “I don’t know.” His face was paper white and pasty like he had a fever. Strings of blood trickled down his nose, thick and dark and scary.

  My pulse skyrocketed. “Colin?”

  And then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed to the floor.

  21

  “Colin!” I pitched forward and grabbed his head with my hands before it smacked on the hard wood floors. On my knees, I cradled the kid onto my lap. The flutter of wings reached me, and Poe landed on the floor next to Colin.

  The kid’s eyes were open, but unfocused, as though he were somewhere far away and not lying on my dining room floor.

  “Colin?” I wiped his forehead, sticky with sweat, my fingers shaking with adrenaline. Oh. God. What was going on?

  “What’s the matter with him?” asked the raven, his voice full of worry that only added another layer to my own tension. “Why is he bleeding? Why does he look like that?”

  Fear hit, real and hard and undulating. “I don’t know.” The kid had the same trance look when Vargal had him, but the demon wasn’t here. My wards would have warned us if the Greater demon set foot inside my home. So what was happening to Colin?

  Desperation filled my chest, and I looked at my aunt. She was already on her feet shuffling toward us. Family, sometimes you didn’t even need to be a mind reader to know what they were thinking. And if anyone could tell me what was wrong with Colin, Evanora was the witch.

  With tremendous effort, the old witch knelt next to us, her knees, a cacophony of snaps and cracks and pops. With her head tilted to the side, she pressed her right hand on the boy’s forehead and closed her eyes, her lips moving in a silent spell.

  Logan and Kyllian loomed over us, sharing the same shocked and worried expressions. Gramps, well, with his eyes red, he looked like he was about to cry.

  “Is it Vargal?” questioned Logan, his eyes shining with concern. “Is he doing this to the kid?”

  I clenched my jaw until it hurt. “He’s hurting him. How is that possible?”

  My aunt released her hold on Colin and leaned back. “The boy is in the Awakening.” At my confusion she elaborated. “It’s where his consciousness travels to another parallel plane of existence where his mind is strongest. Where he can manipulate and exist in another’s mind.”

  Okay, now I was confused. “Then why is he bleeding?” My pulse was racing, and I forced my breathing to slow, knowing that freaking out right now was not an option.

  Evanora focused her milky-white eye on me. “Because,” said my aunt as she took a labored breath. Her quick spell had taken a toll on her old bones. “He is sharing someone’s consciousness, and that person is bleeding. Perhaps worse. In the Awakening, he feels what they feel. They are linked.”

  My head spun, and I thought I was going to be sick. “So if they die,” I began, looking down at Colin’s pale face. “Will he die?” My heart thrashed against my chest, and as if hearing it, my aunt slowly turned to me. I watched her face, my own face going slack in panic.

  But Evanora said nothing, her jaw gnawing at some nonexistent chunk of food in her mouth. Yet, she didn’t have to say anything. A sick feeling twisted my gut at what that might mean. I knew the answer.

  My aunt grunted with effort as she tried to push herself up, and then Kyllian was there, helping her to her feet. I think my aunt was too surprised to say anything. I’d never seen her look so shocked before. Somehow, it didn’t suit her. My Aunt Evanora was never surprised.

  “Then let’s wake him up,” said my grandfather, his eyes wide with fear, mirroring my own. “We can’t let him die like this. He’s just a kid. And I happen to like this kid.” He threw his arms in the air. “Not even you, Evanora, are that cold a bitch. I know under all those wrinkles and folds, there’s got be a heart, or something.”

  My aunt’s face twisted in an ugly anger as she exhaled slowly. Her white eye was on Colin when she said, “Only he can leave the Awakening. If Evanora tries to break the link, it will kill him.”

  Logan cursed, raking his hands through his hair. Is it normal to be beautiful even when you’re mad? Well, he was. “There’s gotta be another way.” His eyes met mine and I felt a jolt. “If this kid dies...”

  “Then Vargal wins.” I looked back down at Colin. “If he dies, the Greater demon can easily track his soul and take it. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  A black feather fell from the raven and floated to the floor. Then another. I looked at Poe, and the bird demon looked like he might keel over from sadness. He was losing his feathers.

  Damn it. I could not have a kid die in my arms and do nothing about it. I just couldn’t. Because I knew that would throw me over the edge.

  Poe hopped over to Colin’s shoulder and gently stroked his beak on the kid’s cheek. “Come on, buddy. Wake up.”

  Colin’s eyes flashed open, and he jerked out of my arms, eyes wide and confused, sending Poe in the air in a frantic beat of wings. “He’s got her. He’s going to kill her!”

  I rolled around on my knees so I could face him. I was so shocked to see him conscious that it took a moment before I found the words. “Do you mean Vargal?” The dining room tilted. I blinked fast. Oh, crap. “He’s got another psychic. Doesn’t he?” A sliver of ice licked up my spine as the words escaped me.

  If Vargal had found another psychic, he’d have no need for Colin anymore. He’d have his five souls to raise the pagan god Nergal. And then we’d all die.

  How did everything go so terribly wrong so fast?

  The boy nodded, his eyes wide with tears. “She’s in pain. She’s screaming. He’s hurting her. We have to help her!”

  Logan practically stepped over me as he handed Colin a napkin, for which I was very grateful and felt stupid that I hadn’t thought about it first.

  “Here, your nose is bleeding.”

  Colin took the napkin with a trembling hand and dabbed at his nose. “Thanks.”

  “How do you know this, Colin?” asked Logan, his voice higher than usual, the only indication of his tension. Kyllian moved closer, the same question plastered over his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Because I was there with her,” said the kid. Red blotches marred his face. “I felt what she felt. It was like I was inside her head. Like we were the same person.”

  “Now that’s got to screw with your head a little,” said Poe, landing next to Colin on the floor.

  “And you’re sure she’s a psychic?” asked Logan. “Maybe you’re wrong.” The skin around his eyes tightened, and I knew he was hoping Colin was wrong. I think we all were.

  “Yes,” answered Colin, his brow furrowed for a moment. “She’s like me.”

  “Then we’re too late,” announced my grandfather, speaking what we all feared.

  I tensed in a sudden panic. This couldn’t be how things ended. It couldn’t. There had to be a way to stop Vargal. A thought occurred to me.

  “Maybe there’s still time.” I looked at the kid, my heart pounding. “Is she still alive?”

  Colin met my eyes. “Yes,” he said and scrunched up the bloody napkin in his palm.

  Thank the cauldron. “If she’s still alive, there’s still time,” I said. “If she’s strong, and I think she is, she’s fighting him. But she can’t
keep fighting Vargal forever.” I felt some tension leave my shoulders. But I couldn’t shake a new, nasty feeling.

  “What is it, Sam?” Kyllian searched my face. “What’s up?”

  I looked into the angel’s eyes and saw only a fierce determination. “How did Vargal find another psychic so quickly? He’d found Colin’s replacement in less than twenty-four hours. How, when the demon’s reach had to wait for sundown?” An uneasy feeling settled in my gut and started to fester like an infectious wound.

  “He has someone working for him,” said Logan, pulling the words from my mouth. “A half-breed. An angel-born. It would explain how he found this new psychic right after Colin.”

  “And who’s the bastard who’s doing this?” Anger rushed and hit hard. I was going to find them. And when I did, I was going to cut them into cubes and boil them in my cauldron.

  But first, I needed to find the Greater demon.

  Pushing to my feet, I ran to the entrance and grabbed my bag. The tracker amulet hung from my hand as I rushed back into the dining room.

  Logan’s eyes dropped to the amulet. “Does it still work?”

  “I really don’t know. Let me try.” It was a long shot, knowing that I’d felt the magic spent already. “Maybe I can jump-start it again.” Perhaps it worked like my rings. Please work. Please. Please.

  I let out a long breath, closed my eyes, and worked the spell. Reaching out with my will, I tapped into the energy from the amulet. With my hand clasped around it, I cried, “Dominus invenire sanguinis! Invenies eum Vargal!”

  There was a tiny surge of power, a buzz of energy emanating from it in rippling waves against my skin. It hung within me for a moment, but then it seeped out of the amulet as fast as it had entered.

  Then nothing.

  My breath hissed in through my nose and I stiffened.

  The amulet lay in my palm like a cold stone. It was dead.

  “It didn’t work,” said Logan.