The Infernal Heart

by R. L. King

  He recovered himself quickly, closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled. “No. I’m—fine. I’m…brilliant.”

  From behind Clarence, the other barista—the woman Archie had shown him the grisly photo of—recognized Stone. “Hi,” she said cheerfully. “This is early for you, isn’t it?”

  “It’s—a lovely day,” he told her. He was probably grinning like an idiot, but at that moment he didn’t give a damn. He paid for the coffees and, despite Grace’s frequent questioning looks, refused to say anything else until they’d picked up their orders and he allowed her lead him to one of the small tables.

  “What was all that?” she demanded. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost back there.”

  He paused for a generous sip from his strong, black coffee before replying. “In a way, I did. Or rather, I didn’t.”

  “You do know you’re not making sense, right?”

  He nodded toward the barista. “When I was…with Archie…he told me he’d killed her last night. He even showed me a photo of the murder scene. Told me he’d killed her because she was someone I knew, and that he’d get ’round to my closer friends next.”

  Grace stared at him, sneaked a glance at the woman, then crossed herself and swallowed. “So…when you came here, you were expecting to—”

  “To find out she’d been murdered. Yes.” He took another long sip. “But he lied to me. Of course he did. Because that’s what he does.”

  “Demons lie,” she said gently. “I’m really glad they do, this time. I’m glad he didn’t hurt your friend.”

  “So am I.” He tightened his hand on his cup. “And he’s not going to kill anyone else. This ends today. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to deal with him.”

  “We’re going to,” she reminded him. “But how? How will you know where he is?”

  “I’m going to do something I didn’t want to do, because it might put a friendship in jeopardy. But this is bigger than that now. Give me a minute.” He pulled out his mobile phone and punched in a number.

  It rang for a long time, and when it picked up, he got voicemail. “Maria? It’s Alastair. Listen—I know this is going to sound a bit daft, but I really need to know where that box is. I know you said the professor is out of town, but if you can get me in touch with her assistants so I can talk to them, I’ll owe you a huge favor. Anything you want, just name it. But it’s vitally important I reach them today. Call me back as soon as you get this message, please.”

  “You’re going to use the box to trace the demon?” Grace asked when he put the phone away.

  “That’s the plan. His heart is the only part of him that can’t be destroyed on Earth, so it’s got to be brimming with magical energy. Since it was inside that box for over a hundred years, it’s almost certain that some of that energy leached into it—enough for me to track him, at least.” He nodded at her cup. “Finish up there—I’ve got some things I need to do at home, to prepare. Do you want me to take you back to San Jose? You won’t be able to help me until later today at the soonest.”

  “Why is that?”

  He glanced back and forth to make sure no one else was listening to them. “My magic’s bug—er, a bit on the blink right now. Side effect of what I had to do to get away from Archie. It’s already coming back, but there’s no way I’m facing him at less than my full power.”

  “Can I just come with you? I told Abuelita I’d be gone all day. I don’t think she’s too happy with me, and I’d rather not have to deal with her for a while.”

  “Of course,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t blame you—she’s quite a formidable old lady, and I can’t even understand a damned thing she’s saying.”

  Maria Alvarez returned Stone’s call as he was driving back to the townhouse. “I’m not even going to ask,” she said without a greeting.

  “Hello, Maria. How are you?”

  “Exasperated. But I shouldn’t be. This is just you being you. I think I’d blocked it out after all these years.”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said. At this point, he’d admit to just about anything to get the information he was after. “So, can you help me?”

  Her sigh was loud enough to hear through the crackle of the cell phone line. “Yes, yes. I’ll talk to Professor Ocampo when she gets back, but if you absolutely have to talk to someone today, I’ll give you her assistant’s number. I’m not sure it will help, though. He told me—”

  “Thanks, Maria, you’re a love,” he said, sticking the phone between his shoulder and his ear, reaching in his pocket for a notepad, and steering with his knees.

  Grace, alarmed, snatched the notepad out of his hands and pointed sternly at the steering wheel.

  Another sigh from Maria. “Are you ready?”

  Stone gestured at Grace until she followed his pantomime and dug in the glove box for a pen. “Ready. Go.”

  She rattled off a number, and he repeated it so Grace could write it down. “Brilliant. Thanks, Maria. I meant it about asking for anything. If it’s in my power to do, just ask. Next week, though, all right?”

  “That will give me time to come up with something good. Have fun saving the world. Me, I’m going to try to finish reading the paper in peace before the kids wake up.”

  Stone waited until he got home before he called the number Maria had given him. Grace sat on the sofa and played with Raider while he paced the room. While the phone rang, he focused on his hand and tried to view his aura to see if his magic had come back yet. He got a faint glimmering, but that was all. Based on past experience, he guessed it would be at least three or four hours before it was at full strength. Frustrating to have to wait so long, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

  “Hello?” The voice startled him; after all those rings and no voicemail, he’d been convinced the man wouldn’t answer.

  “Yes—hello—is this Carter White? Professor Ocampo’s assistant?”

  “Yes—who’s this?” The voice sounded half-confused, half-suspicious.

  “My name’s Alastair Stone. I’m a professor up at Stanford, and a friend of Dr. Maria Alvarez. She might have mentioned me when she spoke to you?”

  “Oh. Right. You’re the occult guy, right? The one who wants a look at the old box from the construction site?”

  “The very one, yes. I know Dr. Ocampo is away, but I really need to get a look at that box as soon as possible. Today, if you can manage it.”

  The suspicion was back. “Why? That thing is over a hundred years old. Why the sudden immediate interest? Like I told Dr. Alvarez, Dr. Ocampo will be back on Monday. You can talk to her then.”

  Stone shook his head in frustration at Grace. “Mr. White, I know this sounds very odd, but it’s rather imperative I get a look at it. I’m going out of town myself soon, and it may hold the answer to some very important questions I need to answer before I go. Is there any way you can help me? I’m absolutely willing to compensate you for your time and inconvenience.” Great. Now he was trying to bribe the guy.

  “Listen, Dr. Stone, I’m really sorry.” White sounded frustrated too. “I was just about to leave for the weekend myself, but I couldn’t help you even if I wasn’t. Dr. Ocampo’s got that thing locked up tight in her office. I couldn’t get to it if I wanted to. Apparently it’s on loan from the San Jose Police Department or something, so she’s keeping close tabs on it. You’re just going to have to wait until she gets back. I gotta go. Have a good weekend, Dr. Stone.”

  The line went dead before Stone could say anything else.

  “Bugger!” he yelled, flinging the phone across the room into a chair. Raider immediately leaped off Grace’s lap and pounced on it.

  “No luck?”

  “Sometimes it’s really a pain in the arse not being able to explain why I want these things.” He picked up the phone, shooed Raider off the chair, and flung himself down into i
t, shoving his hand through his hair. “Pardon my language.”

  She chuckled. “I grew up in east San Jose, remember? Though I’ll admit I’ve never heard anybody in my hood say ‘bugger.’ Anyway, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get that box.”

  “But you said—”

  “It’s locked up in Dr. Ocampo’s office. Time to dust off my breaking-and-entering skills again, as soon as my magic’s back.”

  She stared at him. “You’re going to steal it? Dr. Stone, you can’t—”

  “I’m not going to steal it. I’m going to borrow it for a while. I’ll put it back when I’m done.”

  She tilted her head at him, regarding him with suspicion.

  “Really. I am. I’ll do the ritual right there in her office. It will be more difficult, but I’ve learned some new tricks. Fortunately, since his heart’s been in the damn thing for as long as it has, it should mean I can find him even through magical protections. I’ll have a better chance if you help me, though.” He got up. “I hate to ask you to—”

  “I told you I’d help,” she said. “Do you promise you’re not going to steal anything?”

  “I promise.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  Stone allowed himself a momentary twinge of guilt about corrupting this innocent young almost-a-nun into his nefarious ways, but then he remembered what Archie would do if he wasn’t stopped. It would be much easier if he could just grab the box and take it somewhere convenient, but Grace’s help would be too valuable not to accept. “Excellent. We’ll leave as soon as my magic’s back.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  “You know you’re doing almost ninety, right?” Grace asked.

  Stone grunted and lifted his foot fractionally off the gas pedal, dropping the BMW’s speed back down to a pokey eighty-five.

  “Oh, that’s much better,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  He didn’t answer, except to glance at the clock on the dashboard. Almost six p.m. They’d wasted over six hours waiting for his magic to take its sweet time about coming back. He must have underestimated the amount of Harrison’s mojo he’d used to get out of Archie’s trap—either that, or magic worked differently on the demon’s plane. Either way, by the time he was back to full power and had taken the time to charge up a couple of focus items, it was already five-thirty.

  He’d spent the day obsessively pacing, incessantly checking the news to make sure Archie hadn’t killed anyone else, reading and re-reading his notes on the sigils, and generally being a pain in the ass to be in the same room with. He had to acknowledge that Grace must truly be a saint to have put up with him without chucking something heavy at his head by around three o’clock, but with every hour that passed he became more and more convinced that Archie had sent his dust devils out to make up for lost time. When he’d finally pronounced himself ready to go, he wasted no time in getting on the road.

  Fortunately, he knew where the Anthropology faculty offices at San Jose State were located, and even more fortunately, they made it there without Stone getting pulled over on the way.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked Grace when they arrived. “I don’t technically need you for this bit, if you’d rather just wait for me.”

  “I’ve had enough waiting for the day,” she said, already opening the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Hold on a moment. You can pass for a university student, but I don’t want to take the chance of anyone recognizing me.” He slipped his disguise amulet over his head. He’d tweaked the amulet a bit; its illusionary disguise now made him appear to be a tall, blond young man in a San Jose State hoodie and jeans.

  “I like this one better than the other one.” Grace looked him up and down.

  “Thank you,” he said, pitching his American accent a bit lower than his normal voice. Part of his disguise made his briefcase, which was full of ritual components, look like a backpack slung over his shoulder.

  One small advantage of arriving on campus this late was that the building was deserted. They got inside without anyone noticing them and Stone, after consulting the directory, hurried upstairs to the second floor. A few moments later he and Grace stood in front of the office of Dr. Nancy Ocampo, Professor of Anthropology. Stone slipped on his thin leather gloves and, after a quick glance both ways to verify that no one was watching, popped the door. He motioned Grace inside.

  Ocampo’s office was a little larger than Stone’s, decorated with Mexican art prints, woven wall hangings, and primitive sculptures. Stone ignored most of these, focusing on trying to find anything that could be locked. That could be the desk, the credenza behind it, or the file cabinet on the far side of the room. None of them looked as if they were meant for heavy-duty security, though the file cabinet looked formidable.

  “Do you have to open them all?” Grace asked, glancing nervously toward the door.

  “I hope not. Give me a moment. And don’t touch anything.” He moved to the side of the desk where he could see all three pieces of furniture, then shifted to magical sight and examined each in turn.

  It took him a moment to spot it since the office wasn’t dark, but soon a faint, muddy red light seeping out from the middle drawer of the file cabinet caught his attention. “Got it. Let’s just—”

  Grace was peering through the narrow strip of window alongside the door. She waved an urgent hand at him. “Somebody’s coming!”

  “What?” Who could be coming? No one was in the building!

  “It looks like the janitor. He’s pushing a cart or something.”

  “Oh, bloody hell. Now?” He didn’t need Archie to put obstacles in his path—the universe seemed to be doing a bang-up job of that all by itself. “Come over here,” he whispered, beckoning. “Maybe he won’t come inside if he doesn’t—”

  A key rattled in the lock.

  Grace hurried over to Stone, a terrified what do we do now? look on her face.

  “Stay close,” he whispered quickly, and pulled up an invisibility spell around both of them. “And stay quiet.”

  A second later the door swung open. A chubby, fiftyish man wearing a gray uniform entered, looked around for a moment, then picked up the wastebasket on the floor next to the desk and carried it toward the door.

  Stone remained still, concentrating on holding the spell. He could feel Grace’s warm, trembling arm pressed to his. Just a few more seconds…

  The janitor disappeared through the door. He returned a moment later and replaced the wastebasket, whistling a toneless tune under his breath.

  Grace’s stomach let out a loud, gurgling rumble.

  The janitor stopped halfway back to the door, a confused look crossing his face. “Huh?” he asked.

  Stone held his breath.

  Grace gripped his arm so tightly her fingers threatened to leave bruises.

  The janitor took a couple steps in their direction, then stopped again. He crossed the room, ducked down, and peered under the desk. Then he shook his head, muttered something, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Grace let her breath out in a whoosh. “Can we please do what we came for and get out of here? I was scared to death he’d find us!”

  “You weren’t alone. I had no idea failing to make sure you’d had lunch today would be such a bad decision.” Stone glanced out through the little window to make sure the janitor had moved off. “We may need to borrow that box a bit longer than I hoped. I’m not going to risk doing the ritual in here. It’s a bit small anyway, and the window means anyone walking by could see what we’re up to. Here, keep a lookout, will you?”

  “Where, then?” she asked, moving to take his position.

  “Not sure yet. I don’t think there are any lecture halls in this building, and I’d rather not break into another. Might need to do it in one of the bathrooms.”

  �
�You’re going to track a demon in the men’s room?”

  “We can use the ladies’ if it will make you feel better.” Stone concentrated for a moment until he heard the file cabinet’s lock disengage. He opened the middle drawer and looked inside.

  There it was: the thing that had started this whole mess.

  Sitting there nestled inside a cardboard box, its lid closed, it looked exactly like it had in the photo Detective Cheng had given him what seemed like a very long time ago. Outside the drawer’s protective confines, the muddy red magical energy hung around it like a noxious cloud, combining with the vestiges of impressions from Dennis Avila’s suicide. Dried blood still stained its sides.

  “Hurry up,” Grace urged.

  He glanced around for something to pry it open with, and brought a letter opener over from Ocampo’s desk with a gesture. “I hope the cross is in here too,” he said as he carefully levered the top free.

  Jackpot! Inside the box, the wooden cross had been carefully wrapped in the red cloth. Stone pushed the cloth aside to verify this, noting the Enochian script. “Got it!” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They made it back out into the hall and locked the door behind them without spotting the janitor or anyone else. “He’s probably just doing his rounds and getting out,” Grace said. “I bet he wants to get home to his family.”

  Stone hurried to the hall’s far end, where he’d spotted a pair of restrooms. “Ladies’ or gents’?”

  “Ladies’,” she said firmly. “How are you going to keep anybody out?”

  “Let me handle that. Go on in and make sure nobody’s around.”

  After she disappeared inside, Stone paused to weave a quick illusion of a Closed for Cleaning sign and place it outside the door, then followed her in.

  “Drag that bench over by the door,” he told her, pointing. “Since we can’t lock it, I’ll need some kind of early warning if anyone tries to come in.”

  She did as he requested. “What are you going to do? And how long will it take?”