Booke of the Hidden

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Booke of the Hidden Page 23

by Jeri Westerson


  “A graduate of the demon school of dickheadery,” I muttered, putting the car in gear.

  • • •

  I pulled up in front of my shop and looked at my watch. Almost four. I hadn’t realized how late it was. Jolene was scheduled to arrive shortly.

  I grabbed the crossbow and headed inside. When I walked in I was immediately greeted by the enticing smells from the herbs and tea leaves. Smelled like home. I could forget the Booke’s drag on my life for at least a little while.

  Setting down the crossbow in the back room, I thought of making myself a pot of tea to calm me down. I had a lot to process. I pulled down a canister of Linden Flower and scooped it into my infuser. I tried to clear my mind as the water boiled, and when I poured it in and the tea blossomed, I inhaled it and instantly felt better.

  Letting it steep, I wandered into the main room, thoughts whirling, trying to calm, when I felt a strange sensation of not being alone. When I looked up, I startled at the sudden appearance of a woman, clad all in leather, standing in the middle of my floor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I hadn’t heard the bell above my door ring. And I was also pretty sure I had locked it. Then I looked her over. Definitely another in a long line of unusual Moody Bog inhabitants. Why hadn’t I noticed these characters when I was checking out the neighborhood? She was in a black leather cat suit, for wont of a better description, the kind Black Widow wore, high-heeled boots and all. Her long dark hair was streaked with green tresses, matching the green of her eyes. She looked at me steadily.

  “I’m sorry. But I’m not open yet.”

  That didn’t stop her from walking toward me. She stopped a little too closely into my personal space and I took a step back. “Kylie Strange,” she said, a sort of purr of an English accent.

  “Um…yes.”

  With a cock of her head, she frowned. “There doesn’t appear to be anything particularly special about you.”

  I frowned right back. “Okaaay.”

  She sized me up, deliberately taking her time, counting every freckle, I imagined. “You don’t seem to be much of a threat.”

  I didn’t like her attitude, and too many odd things were happening in this town for my liking. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay, who are you?”

  A sharky smile. “You haven’t guessed? Not too intelligent either.”

  It was the grin that did it. She had that same sharp smile, and the illusion of more teeth in her mouth than necessary. My arms unfolded and dropped to my sides. “You’re a demon,” I whispered.

  Only a raised brow for my efforts. “Not that dense, then.” She walked a slow circuit around me. My eyes flicked toward the archway of the back room, where my crossbow lay. Maybe she didn’t know it was there. Maybe I could…

  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the crossbow.” Okay, so much for that. “I’m curious as to whom you…ah!” She darted a hand forward, and before I could protect myself she had grabbed the amulet in her hand. She glared at it and tossed it back, striking me in the chest. I rubbed my sternum.

  “Erasmus Dark. I should have known!”

  I snapped my head toward where the crossbow was, and it flew through the archway right into my hand, loaded and ready to fire. I looked at the chosen bolt curiously before bringing it swiftly up to my shoulder and aiming. “I think you need to tell me who you are.”

  She tightened her shoulders but her expression didn’t change. “You know what I am. Isn’t that enough?”

  “A name.” I remembered Doc whispering to me that to know their name was to have power over them.

  She smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  I dredged up my encounter with the bikers. “Shabiri,” I tried.

  The effect was instant.

  She snapped her head and glared at me with hate-filled eyes. There was a green glow to them before they settled down again. “Those pathetic fools! Those idiots!”

  “Not nice to talk about your bosom buddies that way.”

  “They’re not my…” She tossed her head back. “Maybe you aren’t as stupid as I thought.”

  “Yeah, thanks… Shabiri,” I added for good measure.

  She winced slightly.

  “That won’t harm me, you know.” She tilted her head toward the crossbow.

  I adjusted my grip tighter. “And I know demons lie.”

  Her smirk fell. “Listen to you. Fresh and innocent. Yes, that is appealing. So naïve. So eager to please. The book chose well, as it always does. But as for Erasmus Dark…You don’t have the power over him you think you do.”

  The urge to touch my amulet was strong, but I didn’t want to relinquish my hold of the crossbow.

  She smirked again, seeming to sense what I was feeling. To prove it, she nodded toward my amulet. “That will only help you for so long. You see, I’ve known him for centuries. Known him well.” My stomach flipped. She smiled languidly, gazing at me from under her lashes. “There is so little you understand. It’s amusing to watch.”

  Unconsciously, while listening to her, I had been lowering the crossbow by increments. I lifted it and took careful aim again. “I know you don’t like this.”

  She was scared. I could see it in her eyes. But she stood her ground. I didn’t know if I could really shoot her anyway, unless she attacked. And at this range, I didn’t know if I could react in time.

  “It’s the book, you know,” she went on. “It’s all about the book.”

  “And what do you know of it?”

  “Oh ho! Well now. The book is ancient. Like me. There is so much to tell. It’s so tantalizing.”

  “Then why don’t you just take it? Take it off my hands.”

  “I think you know I can’t do that, no more than Erasmus Dark can. The book is your burden now. But you can make this easier on yourself. You should hunt, day and night. Get it over with as quickly as possible. It’s such a sad end.”

  I couldn’t help but think of poor Constance Howland. Was that the destiny of all us? What has begun cannot now be stopped. I adjusted my grip on the weapon. “At least I’ll go out fighting.”

  She threw her head back and laughed, and it wasn’t any tinkling pleasant sound either. “Such a little fool. So trusting.”

  Was it bravado or something more? I didn’t like the swagger on her any more than I did on Erasmus. I faced her squarely. Enough with her bullshit. “What is it you’re helping the Ordo to do? Why do they want this crossbow?”

  She sneered again. “Those bumbling fools. They obviously talk too much.” She sighed. “They have greed in their hearts. Surely you must have gathered that with your human senses. They, too, do not understand what they are dealing with.”

  “So why help them?”

  “Why? They summoned me. And they were surprised and so pleased when I came.”

  “And they got the drop on you and took your amulet.”

  Her eyes narrowed and glowed again. She said nothing to that. I felt a keen sense of satisfaction at shutting her up for at least a moment. Were all demons this arrogant?

  “Kylie Strange,” she said, speaking carefully, eyes still piercing. “So mortal. So doomed.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Broken record. Is that all you got?”

  “Let me at least offer you a little piece of advice.”

  “Like I’m going to listen to you.”

  She leaned in anyway, her reptilian smile still pulling at her facial muscles. “There is one thing you must never, ever do.”

  And suddenly she was beside me, her arm tight around my neck as she hissed into my ear. I stood stock-still. That crossbow had been useless against her after all, if she could move like that.

  I felt her face tickle the hair covering my ear. “You must never, ever give your heart to a demon. Oh I can see it in your eyes, my dear. He is seductive, I’ll give you that. But it only makes the game that much more delicious.” When she drew away, she licked her lips with a long serpent’s tongue. I gasped and staggered back.


  “G-game?”

  “Surely you knew,” she said, pushing down the crossbow that had frozen my arms in position. “It’s all just a game.”

  “You mean…the Powers That Be.” The vortex voice had said it, too. It was a game. But if it was a game, then that meant at least two players, and someone had to win and someone had to lose. If I understood the game better, I could come out the winner.

  “Just what is the game and how is it played?”

  She shook her head. “Now, now. You think I have to answer you? Just because you know my name means nothing. You do not hold the amulet. I don’t think dear Doug will give it up that willingly.”

  “Shabiri,” I said. She recoiled slightly. “What is the game?”

  She licked her lips again. “Erasmus Dark has told you much. But obviously not enough. Take heed, Kylie Strange. At the moment, you might have the upper hand. But it won’t always be that way. And just when you least expect it, the serpent always strikes!”

  A clap of thunder made me jump. I glanced quickly over my shoulder toward the window, looking for rain and clouds, but there were none. When I turned back, she was gone.

  • • •

  By the time I recovered, my tea was steeped to death. I poured it out into the sink, contemplating making another pot. I sure needed to relax. I nearly dropped the canister when the knock sounded on my door.

  I rushed to the front room and saw the shape of Jolene through the wavy glass. I pulled it open and she looked up, squinting at me through her glasses.

  “Hey, Jolene,” I said, closing the door behind her.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She paused, a look of glee forming on her face. “Did you?”

  “No, that is the one thing this place seems to lack: a ghost.” I ran my hand over my face. What must I have looked like?

  Nervously, I slipped behind the counter for something to distract me and opened my laptop to check emails. I had sent press releases to every local business and women’s group I could think of, and if the email response was any indication I was looking at a spectacular grand opening tomorrow. If there was a tomorrow.

  Jolene sidled up to the counter and leaned on it, glancing at the centuries-old graffiti carved into it. “So why did you have that look?”

  “Um…” Where to begin? First things first. “Jolene, can you look something up for me?”

  She perked up. “Sure!”

  I grabbed a notepad and a pen and sketched, as best I could, the tattoo on Erasmus’s chest. It was all arrows, curlicues, and dots. I turned the pad to face her. “What do you think?”

  “It’s not easy looking up symbols. Where’d you see this?”

  “Um…it’s on, uh, Mr. Dark’s chest.”

  She toyed with the corner of the notepad before looking up at me sidelong. “And…how did you see that?”

  I busied myself behind the counter. “His shirt was open,” I said quickly. “When I was fixing him after I shot him with the crossbow. I thought it might be important. And what about that amulet? That appears to be pretty important, too.”

  “Still checking,” she said, tearing off the paper and stuffing it into her backpack. “It has something to do with power, though. The fact that it’s silver is very significant, one of the important metals in demonology. But Mr. Dark was able to wear it and it didn’t hurt him. Must be spelled in some way…” She cocked her head, staring at it.

  “Is it dangerous for me to have? Because it sure scared the heck out of our friendly neighborhood succubus.”

  “When did it do that?”

  “Last night. She paid me a call.”

  Jolene’s eyes widened.

  “I should probably call Doc. I have a lot of things to report.”

  “Kylie,” he said when he answered my call. “What’s happened?”

  “Well, a few things.” I related the story of the succubus the night before as Jolene stood there, mouth open. Then I told him about the bicyclist and vortex number two.

  I could hear his concern even over the phone. “This is getting very bad.”

  “And that’s not all.” I looked at Jolene as I said it. “I was just paid a call by…another demon. Her name is Shabiri. And she knows all about Erasmus Dark and the Booke.”

  Jolene threw her hand over her mouth.

  “Did…did she hurt you?” said Doc.

  “No. No, but she threatened me. Well, more like warned me. Everyone is warning me but no one is helping!”

  “I'm helping!” piped Jolene.

  I smiled at her. “I know you are.”

  “What did she say exactly?” asked Doc.

  “Well, pretty much what the vortex voice said—that this was a game and we didn’t have all the answers. But you were right. When I called her by her name, she didn’t like it. And Doug the biker has her amulet and has control over her, too. She wouldn’t tell me why they wanted the crossbow.”

  He hmmed on the phone for a moment. “I think, under the circumstances, we should try to summon that succubus, trap her in the meadow. Get this over with.”

  “I do, too, but I’ve got a date. With Ed Bradbury, remember?”

  “Perhaps you should break that date.”

  “No!” I hadn’t meant to sound so desperate but I needed that distraction from Erasmus. I sputtered an explanation to Doc. “It just wouldn’t be right. And he’s already suspicious of Erasmus. I don’t want to blow the one good thing to come out of this because of these damned demons and that stupid Booke.”

  “Well, we could start without you.”

  “No you don’t. Not without me and my crossbow.”

  “It’s getting mighty sticky.”

  “You’re telling me.” Shabiri scared the bejesus out of me. “I could make it an early night,” I suggested. “We could meet after I get back.”

  “You sure you want to do that? Might make things a bit…well, rushed for you.”

  Despite everything, I smiled. It had been a long time since a parental figure cared about me. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

  He sputtered, backpedaling. “I-I didn’t mean anything disparaging.”

  “I know. It’s just…I don’t want to lose this opportunity. Either of them.”

  “I’m sorry our protection charm didn’t work…”

  “It did. I ruined it by covering it with a rug.”

  Jolene made a scoffing noise. She seemed to understand exactly what I had done. And so did Doc.

  “We should have told you.”

  “Not your fault. But I do have the amulet, and that seemed to ward her off. A little bit.”

  “Jolene with you?”

  “Yeah, she’s right here. Did you want to talk to her?”

  “Please.”

  I waved the phone at her as she inspected my braided rug and the smeared chalk line underneath it. “Doc wants to talk to you.”

  She skipped back over and took the phone, nodding as she listened to his muffled voice. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I got it.” She handed it back.

  “So…?”

  “Jolene will fill you in,” said Doc. “Be careful. See you later tonight.” And he hung up.

  I turned to her as she rifled through her backpack. “What did he tell you to do?”

  “I’m going to try a few warding charms. See if that won’t help you.”

  “All by yourself?” I hugged my arms, staring at the stuff she was taking from the backpack. Did she always carry her junior Wiccan kit around with her?

  She set up a candle and a stick. Wand, Seraphina’s voice corrected in my head. “I’m going to need a few herbs, if that’s all right?”

  “To save my hide? No problem.”

  She retrieved one of the woven baskets I had stacked by the door for my shoppers and joined me around the counter. She scoured the little cubbies and moved methodically, pulling out drawers and plucking the dried plant pieces from the first one. “Agrimony,” she said, laying the twisted plant into the bask
et. She moved on to the “liverwort” drawer and pulled out the herb, something that looked like flattened moss, taking only a portion of one and placing it beside the other in the basket. She turned to the counter and grabbed a small set of bamboo tongs and opened the drawer marked “Nettle,” withdrawing the spiky leaf and laying it, too, in the basket.

  “We have Devil’s Shoestring, don’t we?”

  “Viburnum alnifolium? Right here.” I pulled open the drawer. I’d forgotten its quainter moniker. But the name now made me feel ill at ease, like something dragging over my neck. I rubbed my sore shoulder unconsciously and glared at the root she tweezed from the drawer. It suddenly looked more sinister, like a fleshless bone. I shivered.

  “And wood rose,” she said. “That oughtta do it.”

  “Do what, exactly?” I asked.

  She smiled and thrust the basket’s handle into the crook of her arm. “We’re gonna make a potion!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I don’t have a cauldron lying around, you know,” I told her, only half-kidding.

  “That’s okay. We’ll just use whatever you have. It should belong to you, anyway. Have you got a Dutch oven, maybe? Iron’s best.”

  I did, as it happened. I dug it out from the back of the pantry and set it on the stove on its three legs. I stepped out of the way to let her do her thing, but I hovered, anxious and curious.

  “I’ll need a few other things. Some distilled water, kosher salt, and an egg, preferably one with a blood spot on the yolk.”

  I winced. What was with Wiccans and blood? “I don’t know that I have one of those.”

  She shrugged. “That’s okay. Those really become hard to find unless you have your own chickens.” She laid the ingredients out on the counter, using the tongs to lay the nettle aside, away from the others.

  “So what kind of potion is this?”

  “It’s for protection.”

  “Wait.” I looked over the ingredients. “I don’t have to drink this, do I?”

  “No! That would be dangerous.”

  “Yeah, I know!”

  “But you do have to smear it on the windows and doorways.”

 

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