Lily barely noticed, too busy trying to spot the demon in the chaos, mind searching for a spell that might actually hurt him. Time seemed to slow as her overloaded brain processed the scene in a series of flashes, like photograph stills.
Cassius stumbling toward his master, hands frantically grabbing for the cat mauling his back.
Sebastian diving for Madam Barrington, who stood immobile and staring blankly by the wall. Him shoving his ring on her finger. Her collapsing in his arms.
The demon’s face, a bloody mass of shot-up flesh a moment before, now knitted back together to reveal crimson eyes that blazed with fury.
That furious gaze jolted Lily back into the moment as the demon lunged forward. Moving impossibly fast, the creature grabbed Cassius by the shirt and threw the witch toward the shimmering magic of the portal. Sir Kipling managed to jump clear only just in time, and then Cassius was gone. Even before the blond witch had fully disappeared, the demon was in front of her, materializing like smoke—if smoke could move as fast as lightning. Richard shouted and tried to punch the creature, but the demon backhanded him first, sending him crashing into a bookshelf.
Her hands still tied, Lily stumbled back, turning to run. But there was nowhere to go. As the demon reached for her, she acted on instinct, quick casting a physical shield between them, but it barely slowed him down. Before she knew it, he had seized her wrist, his touch searing her mind with blinding pain. Paralyzing fear shot through her limbs, and the stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils. She opened her mouth to scream, but it was the demon’s shriek of agony that filled the room, the sound sending bolts of pain shooting through her eardrums like fiery arrows. Through the pain, she realized he had closed his fingers around her left wrist, right over her ward bracelet.
The demon staggered back, his hand a blistered mass of oozing, burnt flesh that did not immediately heal. With a hiss of malice, the creature spun and rushed toward the portal, grabbing the unconscious witch on the floor as he passed. And then they, too, were gone.
Eerie silence descended on the room, though Lily could barely tell through the ringing in her ears. She leaned against a nearby wall, limbs shaking, feeling like the last ten seconds had been an hour of furious fighting.
“Lily!”
Two voices overlapped, each calling her name. Richard made it to her first, staggering over from where he’d been flung by the demon. Sebastian was busy supporting his aunt, a grimace of pain on his face as he helped her sagging form to a nearby chair. Lily remembered his injured ribs and wondered how well he was holding up. The pain must have been manageable, judging by the dirty look he was sending Richard’s way as the FBI agent reached Lily and started undoing her bonds.
“Lily, are you okay?”
She gasped as the rope loosened and blood began rushing back into her hands. “Yes, I’ll—I’ll be all right. Are you okay? Where did you come from? How did you find us?”
“Sore, but no broken bones,” he said, smiling wanly before pausing to consider her other questions. A flash of guilt crossed his face. “I—I was watching your house. I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I was worried about, um, about what was going on. I saw you leave and followed you, but I hung pretty far back because it was night and there weren’t many cars out. I was too late to stop what happened, I’m sorry. I followed your group into the library, but didn’t know which level you’d gone to. By the time I got down to the basement, it was empty. I was scratching my head, trying to figure out where you had all gone, when your cat showed up, meowing up a storm. I don’t know what kind of hocus pocus that critter pulled, but when I followed him into the broom closet I could sort of hear and see what was happening. Didn’t really understand what was going on, but when you yelled, I moved.”
Lily looked over at her cat, who was sitting in the lap of a pale and shaky Madam Barrington, staring at them across the room with his yellow eyes. She’d had no idea he could bring people through the Basement’s portal by himself. It wasn’t an active spell simply linking two locations and allowing anything through that passed its threshold. It was specially crafted to require a specific entry spell any time someone entered or exited. Only a wizard could cast it, and only a wizard could bring things through, animate or inanimate—at least, that’s what she had thought. What other tricks was Sir Kipling hiding up his sleeve? Or, in his case, under his collar?
“Well, thank you, Agent Grant,” Lily said, aware of Sebastian’s eyes on her. “You probably saved our lives. If you will excuse me, I need to check on Madam Barrington, and we have to decide what to do next. Quickly.”
She hurried over to her mentor, a quick examination confirming that the old woman was uninjured and quickly regaining her color. The wizard’s eyes were closed and she was petting Sir Kipling, probably composing herself as she regained her strength. Lily left her to it, her gaze sliding up to check on Sebastian, who stood beside the chair. She grimaced at the sight of his bloody neck.
“Are you all right?” she asked softly, not wanting to disturb her mentor. She itched to reach up and turn her friend’s head to get a better look at the cuts, but she resisted the urge. There was nothing she could do to make his injury better, so it was best to keep her hands to herself.
“I’ll live. It’s Aunt B. I’m worried about,” he said, though the glare he aimed at the FBI agent—currently watching the portal, sidearm held at the ready—said otherwise.
“He just saved our lives, Sebastian. Don’t look at him like that.”
“Yeah? Saved our lives because he’s been following you like some creepy stalker,” he ground out, not looking at her. “Being an enemy of demons doesn’t make him our friend. He’s a cop, Lily. If he were a good one, he’d be doing his job properly, not cutting his partner out of his investigation and sneaking around without backup. He’s broken the law for us, which means he could just as easily be breaking the law for someone else, too. It makes me wonder why he’s even here, since you’ve already made it ‘abundantly clear’ you’re not interested in him.”
Lily flushed. “Yes, as a matter of fact I have, so I’m sure he followed us because he cares about his job, wants to catch the witches, and doesn’t want more people to get hurt.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t just let go of your stupid jealousy and accept his help,” Lily bit out, then instantly regretted it. Sebastian’s face twisted into an ugly expression she had never seen on him before. When he finally met her gaze, his eyes were hooded and a crazed light shone from them.
“If you trust him so much, maybe he should be your new sidekick,” he said, voice bitter as wormwood. “You seem to prefer having him around anyway.”
“I—that’s not true! And what do you mean sidekick? You’re my friend. We…we look out for each other. At least I thought we did,” she said, eyes burning. What had gotten into him? Why was he being so difficult?
Sebastian looked away and the tension in his face eased a little, though his expression didn’t become any more readable. “I thought—” he began quietly, but then stopped. When he spoke again, his voice had hardened to stone. “I don’t think I make a very good friend. I should probably just go.”
His words hit Lily like a sledgehammer to the chest. She opened her mouth, but stinging betrayal constricted her lungs, leaving no air for words.
“Do not speak such nonsense, Nephew. This is no time for dissension,” Madam Barrington’s stern voice, tinged with fatigue, interrupted their little tête-à-tête.
“Ethel! How are you feeling?” Lily said, turning to her and desperately pushing all other feeling away. She was barely holding on as it was. “Did that, that thing hurt you? Do we need to get you to a hospital?”
“Do not be silly, Lily. I shall be perfectly fine once I catch my breath.”
Lily frowned, very much doubting that.
“This demon is far stronger than should be possible for simply possessing a human’s body. There is something deeper going on,
some magic I have never encountered before. This creature is more than just a demon. But what he is, I cannot say. It is clear, however, that we are not equipped to fight him. Sebastian, we need your fae powers—and your fae allies, if they will join us—or there will be nothing to stop these witches from summoning more demons and ransacking the entire Hilprecht Museum, not to mention stealing priceless artifacts of unimaginable power. We cannot let that happen.”
Sebastian was silent for a moment, eyes fixed on a bookshelf, his face a mask. “I don’t have those powers anymore,” he finally said, words flat and brittle. “I made a bargain I couldn’t keep. And the fae aren’t the forgiving sort.”
Madam Barrington’s eyebrows rose, and Lily remembered Sebastian’s cryptic words about his green friends. Now she understood why his fae tattoo had vanished, and the realization sent her heart racing. She was elated that he was finally free, beholden to no one. Yet, without the fae and their magic, he seemed a completely different person—and not a better one. As much as she hated to admit it, perhaps Thiriel’s bargain had done him some good.
“Couldn’t you get it back? We, um, kind of need their help,” she asked, hating how timid she sounded. She was seriously bad at this interpersonal conflict thing.
“I thought you didn’t like the fae,” Sebastian said, turning his flat gaze to her.
“I—I don’t. At least, I don’t like their conniving nature. But we need their help. This is a pretty inconvenient time to, um, well…” she trailed off, cringing inwardly.
Sebastian’s mask cracked, pain leaking into his words as his voice rose, the crazy light back in his eyes. “Oh, I get it. You want me around, watching your back, but only if I have powers. Only if I’m useful. Except I’m not anymore. I’m just broken and messed up. But he’s got a gun, so you’d rather have a lying, double-crossing government stooge around than me,” he said, pointing in accusation at Richard. The FBI agent’s back was to them, as if trying to give them some privacy, but of course he could hear everything.
“No! That’s not true, Sebastian,” Lily protested, heart breaking even as her stupid, logical side agreed with him. He was broken, and as a normal mundane in a magical fight, he would be a liability more than a help. But that didn’t mean he was useless, or that she didn’t want to be with him.
Whatever Sebastian saw in her eyes, however, the “but…” part wasn’t it, because he flinched, a look of betrayal growing on his face. “I—I always knew it. Always knew I wasn’t good enough for you. I just make things worse. I think it would be better for everyone if I—if I left.”
And with that, he spun on his heel and headed for the door.
“Wait! Sebastian, come back! You’re wrong—you’re—” Lily choked on a sob as he wrenched opened the door back to the archives, shot Madam Barrington a meaningful glare, and then disappeared through the portal that appeared at her command. A strange flash of light followed him through the door, like a blur of silver with a white-tipped tail, but the portal closed so quickly she couldn’t see what it was. Lily spun on her mentor. “Why did you let him leave? You know he was wrong!”
Madam Barrington’s face was lined with age and sorrow, and she blinked slowly, still stroking Sir Kipling, who had not moved from her lap. When she finally met Lily’s face, her eyes were soft, but there was no compromise in her gaze. “He is deeply wounded, and has been for many, many years. Now is not the time, nor the place, to try and heal those wounds. Some of them we cannot heal for him. He will have to find his own healing, or the strength to go on without it, as well as the wisdom to understand why. I do not want him in harm’s way any more than you, and right now he is vulnerable. Have courage, my dear. We have a desperate struggle before us.”
Lily’s lip quivered and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Her body was tired and aching, and she felt like every ounce of emotion she possessed had been squeezed painfully from her body. He had abandoned her. Again. She wanted to run after him, to give him a well-deserved tongue lashing, or fall on her knees and beg for forgiveness—or both. Anything to get him to see the truth, to banish whatever doubts were plaguing his mind. But there was no time. Every second that ticked by was a second more Roger had to wreak havoc. They needed to go. Now.
Closing her eyes, Lily clamped down on her fatigue, pain, and warring desires, trying to push them all into a little box so she could lock them away and forget, if only for a little while. But her mind resisted, and she was at a loss. Then a vision of Sebastian, hanging, bleeding and beaten from that brick wall, flashed behind her eyelids. Her nostrils flared and anger stilled everything within her as a creeping freeze stills everything with warmth and life. This wasn’t a passionate anger, but an anger of deadly purpose focused on one thing: Roger.
That worthless son of a slimy cretin had done all of this to Sebastian. He had caused her friend’s wounds. If she defeated him, then Sebastian would get better. He had to.
As her tears dried and new energy filled her body, Lily shied away from contemplating why she felt such a strong need to protect Sebastian, why she had rushed off heedlessly to save him before, and why she had the burning need to destroy his tormentor now. That’s what friends did for each other, right? But deep down, she knew it was more; she had resisted admitting it, even in her own head. After all, love was messy and frightening, and relationships involved her worst nightmare: other people. If she admitted to it, then she gave up control and her ability to stay in her own quiet, safe little bubble and let no one else in. And yet, why else would the thought of Sebastian getting hurt make her heart freeze in terror? Why else would she want to spend time with him, despite his shortcomings and infuriating habits? Why else would she feel the constant longing to be wrapped in his arms?
An insistent meow interrupted her thoughts, and she shot a look at Sir Kipling, who was staring at her in a knowing sort of way. She straightened her shoulders. He was right. She could think later. Now was the time to act. A part of her protested, wanting to collapse on the floor and let someone else deal with this mess. She ignored the feeling. “Ethel, are you sure you’re up to this?” she asked.
“We do what we must. But might I suggest we join hands as we pass through the portal? We are stronger together than apart. I have never taught you concurrent casting, the modified form of a circle of power used for quick casting. Wizards are so few the need is rare these days. But if you leave yourself open to me, I believe we will manage.”
Lily nodded, holding out a hand to help her mentor up. The older woman’s cane had been lost somewhere, most likely outside the library wherever she had been ambushed. Lily’s jaw was set and her eyes hard as Madam Barrington took her hand and Sir Kipling jumped down to the floor. The cat gave his side a quick lick, putting a few stray tufts of fur back in place before trotting over to Richard, who was still silently guarding the portal.
As they approached, Madam Barrington addressed their unlikely ally. “You will remain behind us, Agent Grant. Unlike the portal to this archive, which requires magic to enter, this is a simple pathway that you can pass through unaided should things take a turn for the worse. Once we are through, find a defensive position and stay hidden. If you have an opportunity to shoot, take it. These witches will kill us all without a thought if we attempt to hinder their pursuit of power—power to wreak misery and destruction on the innocent. We are at war, and they have chosen their side. Their destruction is upon their own heads.”
Coldness seeped into Lily’s bones, and a shiver ran down her spine at her mentor’s grim words. This was a side of the old wizard she had never seen, and she wondered what conflict Madam Barrington had faced in her past that had made her so set against witches. Richard simply nodded, gun drawn, face set in a professional mask. He did not meet Lily’s eyes.
“Lily, I will cast and maintain a protective shield. You focus on disabling Roger, or whatever it is he has become, in any way possible. Agent Grant, do your best to prevent any other hostiles from interfering. Sir Kipling, I expect you
have plans of your own. Do try to stay alive; you are better than any hot water bottle for these old bones.”
Richard nodded, and Lily tried to crack a smile at Sir Kipling’s smug twitch of the tail, but she felt sick to her stomach. That demon had moved so fast. She feared it was more powerful than all of them put together, and she had no guarantee she would be able to use the white light in any sort of useful way. Why had that mysterious being given her power that she could neither understand, nor control? She and it needed to sit down and have a serious conversation very soon. Like, right now.
Um, angel? Are you there? We need to talk, she said in her head as Madam Barrington began to cast layers of shields over the group to keep them safe from whatever lay beyond the portal. There was no answer, however—no toll of a bell, no deep voice ringing in her mind. She felt silly. It seemed that she would just have to do her best, and have faith that the power would be there when she really needed it. After all, it had not let her down so far.
Madam Barrington finished her casting and Lily felt the magic descend around them, rippling with power. She squeezed her mentor’s hand tightly and felt something hard press against her fingers. With a jolt of understanding, Lily realized her mentor still wore Sebastian’s ring—which meant Sebastian had not been wearing it when he had yelled at her and abruptly left. Was that why he had acted so unlike himself?
Before she could ponder it further, Madam Barrington stepped through the portal, pulling Lily with her. Lily hurriedly cleared her mind, focused, and readied her magic as bookshelves and wood-paneled walls dissolved around them.
The sub-floor of the Hilprecht Museum was cooler and much more utilitarian than the Basement. Of course, it had been built for storage, not comfort. And, unlike the Basement—which was a spelled room functionally separate from the library above and impossible to enter without magic—the sub-basement of the Hilprecht Museum was of mundane construction, converted into a warded and protected storage area several decades after it was built. Its walls and floors were cold, grey concrete, with electrical wiring and ducts running overhead above long fluorescent bulbs that shone harsh white in the chilly air. Since it was sometimes frequented by mundane employees and researchers, it didn’t have the advantage of light spells or cosmetic illusions to make it appear cozier. In fact, it looked utterly urbane, like any other underground storage room of a large and active museum.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus- Betrayal Page 24
