“Damian!” Foster said.
I didn’t even look up. I knew what was coming; it sent ripples and waves through the mixed gathering of necromantic energy and Fae power surrounding me. My staff. My demon staff slapped into my left hand as I methodically stepped up to the vampire’s head, stared at her and cocked my head to one side. I slammed a ferrule into the dirt by beside her ear. Her screams had broken down into hiccupping tears and tremors of pain. She was shaking uncontrollably, with only whispers and blood pouring from her mouth.
“Azzazoth, Azzazoth, Azzazoth,” she said. Her words broke down into nonsensical mumbling.
The rowan would be burning Devon from the inside out, crisping her flesh and nerves and even damaging the flow of magic that kept her “living.” I didn’t smile or laugh, because I knew what I had done was terrible. I had used Fae magic for a terrible purpose. I considered how wrong that had been, but every doubt was erased as my thoughts returned to Sam. At that, my lips did break into a smile. Mirthless, dark, and vengeful.
“You don’t fuck with my sister.” I held the staff out and whispered the incantation in a dead voice. “Minas Ignatto.”
I called fire to sever her body at the hips and both shoulders. It was slow. I let some of the power dissipate from the staff so the fire would crawl through her joints until the limbs fell off. Almost a full minute later, they did. Once Devon was defenseless, I gagged her, stuffed her torso into a potato sack, and dragged it away from the scene.
I didn’t kill her.
Chapter Thirty-One
Zola was rubbing her arm when she crested the hill. She glanced at the potato sack and her lips twitched. “Ah didn’t know that bitch was a warlock.”
Foster took a few quick steps over to Zola and crushed her with a hug. “Bloody hell I’m glad you’re okay.”
She pushed the fairy away with a smile and a wave of her hands. “No need to get all sappy now.”
We started back to the car with Devon’s torso and head in tow. I had a hand around Sam’s shoulder, guiding her along with us. Aideen stopped to torch Devon’s arms and legs next to a pile of cigarette butts some jackass had left in the middle of the road. There wouldn’t be anything remaining but a pile of unidentifiable ashes.
“I don’t think I like timewalkers,” Foster said as he watched the flames spring to life.
“You and me both,” I said.
“What about Edgar?” he said.
“What do you mean?”
Foster’s fingers began fidgeting on the hilt of his sword. “We could ask the Watchers for help.”
Zola chuckled quietly.
“What?” he said.
“Foster,” Aideen said. “We’re dealing with demons. We have dismembered bodies in the trunk of Damian’s car. The Watchers would probably kill us before we finished explaining.”
“That would probably not help,” he said.
Zola laughed and patted Foster on the back. “Ah want to stop by a friend’s home, Damian.”
“Huh?” I said.
“A friend buried here,” Zola said. “He’s just at the top of this hill.”
I nodded and turned toward the slight incline with her, guiding Sam by her elbow. Foster hefted the sack of vampire onto his shoulder and followed. A minute later we were standing beside a modest tombstone. Zola knelt down in front of it, on an in-ground plaque. She kissed her right hand and placed it on the name of the upright stone. Aideen landed on the tombstone, shifting a small pile of pennies beneath her feet.
I read the name and my eyes widened. “You knew him?”
“Yes, him and Harriet,” she said as the edge of her mouth curled into a smile. “They helped change a lot of things for us. He was a good man. Taylor was too, although he picked the wrong side in the war. Ah’ve known some men thought Lincoln may not have been elected if it wasn’t for their struggle. If that had happened …” She closed her eyes and shook her head.
I read the rest of the stone.
DRED SCOTT
BORN ABOUT 1799
DIED SEPT. 17, 1858
Freed from slavery by
his friend Taylor Blow
I bowed my head and watched Zola from the corner of my eye. She smiled and touched the headstone once more before standing up again. My god, the things she must have seen.
I blew out a breath and traded Sam to Foster for a sack of dismembered vampire. We headed back to the car and left Calvary Cemetery.
* * *
“Sam’s not coming out of it.” Cara stood on the footboard of the bed, held her hand out in front of Sam, her fingers splayed, and narrowed her eyes.
Sam just sat on her bed and stared at nothing.
Cara fluttered around Sam’s head and back. I knew she was looking at Sam’s aura; I couldn’t take my eyes off it, either.
“She’s still bound to Devon and the demon,” she said.
I sighed and turned to my master. “Would two vampires be enough, Zola?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Ah don’t know, Damian. What you’re planning … Ah just don’t know.”
I felt the emotion bleed out of my face before rage boiled up to replace it. “Then they all die tonight.”
“How?” Zola said as she looked up at me. “How will you even find the demon? Or its host, if it’s even bound still.”
“Azzazoth. Bait he can’t resist.”
Zola’s eyes turned hard as understanding blossomed in them. “You will use me for bait.” She nodded. “He would come for me, one of his captors. We will bring the book as well. Even so, how do you intend to inform him bait is waiting?”
I stared at her until her expression faltered.
“You’ll need a blood letter,” she said as she closed her eyes.
“I figured I’d write it in my own blood on a blank page from Philip’s book.”
“Yes, it would prove you have the book.” She sighed and patted my shoulder. “Sometimes Ah think you are very brave, boy, and sometimes very stupid.”
I laughed.
“Hopefully it is more of the first,” she said sincerely.
“I would not count on that fact,” said a deep voice that sounded like its voice box had been run through a meat grinder.
I turned toward the door and couldn’t help but smile when I saw Vik leaning against the frame. He brushed his hair back and revealed a mass of bruises that ran up his neck and across the side of his face. The fact he was still showing damage was a testament to how bad off he’d been.
“Glad to see you up and about.”
He flashed his fangs with a small smile, gave a flourish with his right hand, and bowed. “While ferrets still walk the earth, so shall I.”
The whole group chuckled.
“Where is Foster?” Vik said.
I was surprised he’d asked about Foster. They barely even spoke to each other. “He went back to the shop with Aideen. I think they’re going to let the cu siths out and take it easy after our fight with Devon.”
“Taking it easy sounds like quite a good idea.” He shuffled over to the bed and sat down beside Sam. “So what’s the verdict, Mom?”
Cara smiled at Vik. I snorted a laugh. I’d never heard him call Cara “Mom” before.
“I don’t think Sam will be free until Devon is dead.”
“What will you do with Sam when you go to do battle with Azzazoth?” Vik said.
“Take her with us,” Zola said.
I blinked at my master. “Really?”
She nodded. “Yes, Ah want to catch Azzazoth as off guard as we possibly can. If Sam isn’t there, he may be suspicious.”
“Why?”
“Zola’s right,” Cara said. “Sam’s aura is tied to Devon. If none of the auras of his followers are there, he could grow suspicious. I doubt he’s different from other demons. He’ll send out a summons to his followers before the gathering.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Devon won’t be the only follower there. We’ll have at least two more p
arty goers.” Another thought nagged at the back of my head. “I need to tell Frank what’s going on. And Sam would want to see him again, just in case.”
* * *
I wrapped my forearm in gauze after I had carved it up with Cara’s sword to write the blood letter. She stood on the edge of Sam’s writing desk beside a small pile of troll dolls.
“My sword was not made to taste the blood of friends.”
“This is just an exception to the rule,” I said with a small grin.
“You are bleeding badly, Damian,” Zola said as she shuffled out of my peripheral vision. “Ah wish the healing arts would not disrupt the ritual.”
“I’ll get patched up as soon as we’re done.”
I folded the old, yellowed parchment and placed it into the vellum envelope Vik slid across the desk. I dabbed some hot wax onto the flap and sealed it with my thumbprint. Much cursing ensued.
Vik shook his head. “Why is everything so difficult with demons? Why must you blister your thumb to speak with them?”
I glared at Zola with said thumb stuck in my mouth and mumbled, “That’s a good damn question.”
“It has been that way as long as I can remember,” she said with a miniscule lift of her shoulders.
“As long as I can remember as well,” Cara said. “My grandmother used to tell stories of demons who would not speak without the sacrifice of lives. You should be thankful it is only a pinprick on your arm and a burnt thumb.”
I glanced at the gauze and grimaced. “Point taken.” I pushed the chair back from the little writing desk in the bright yellow room and pulled my jacket on. “Alright, I’m going to the mailbox. Zola, you want to wait at the shop or here?”
“We will all wait here,” she said as she settled herself onto Sam’s bed. “We need to rest.”
I looked at Sam.
“Boy, we can’t do her any good if we’re dead.”
“Zola’s right,” Cara said. “I’ll get Foster and Aideen from the shop in the morning.”
I sighed and rubbed my chin. “Alright, early tomorrow then. We’re going south soon as I deliver the bait.”
“Damian, I wish to help,” Vik said.
I turned to the vampire and put a hand on his shoulder. “Rest up. If this goes wrong, you’re going to be the only one left to clean up the mess.”
“Great,” he said with a small roll of his eyes.
I smiled and settled into the chair in the corner.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The look on Frank’s face the next morning, when I told him about Sam, evaporated any doubts I’d ever had about their relationship. He hit me with puppy dog eyes that grew bloodshot and threatened to overflow with tears.
I looked around at the empty shop and took a deep breath. “I’ll get her back Frank. She’s my sister. I love her more than anything else walking this earth.”
Frank nodded and sniffed. His voice came out in a whisper, “How can I help?”
“You already did,” I said with a small shake of my head. “We couldn’t even try this insanity if you hadn’t gotten us our, um, supplies.”
He nodded once. “God, I feel useless sometimes.”
“Don’t, don’t ever feel useless Frank,” I said as I squeezed his shoulder. “You’re like extended family. Even Cara, well, doesn’t hate you.” I grinned.
Frank laughed, it was short, and quiet, but it was real. “Can I see Sam?”
I nodded and led Frank outside. Sam was still sitting in the backseat with her eyes focused on nothing. I opened the passenger door and turned away. “I don’t think she’s aware of anything, but …” I shrugged.
He leaned in and stared at her for a moment, just stared. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and squeezed her hands. Sam just sat there with her blank eyes. Frank’s head sagged and he backed out of the car.
I’m pretty sure a bee stung my eyeball at that point because it started burning and leaking. My lips quivered as I walked around to the driver’s side.
“Kill them, Damian.”
I nodded once as he closed the door and then I left to drop Sam at the Pit again while I invited a demon to dinner.
* * *
There is a ruin of an old church in the heart of suburbia. Hundreds of years had passed since it was built and hundreds more since it fell. All that remains are the huge gray stones of its foundation. There was much speculation among the local kids about what the building originally was, but only a necromancer could tell you the truth. It was the only church of the damned in the area and its lichen-covered remains were to be avoided on All Hallows Eve. For those psychotic enough to study the infernal arts, it was a place to commune with demons.
Conveniently enough, the ruins were only thirty minutes from my apartment. Out in the West County city of Ballwin, west on Manchester Road, past battalions of strip malls, car dealers, and restaurants, and then south on Reinke Road, I pulled onto a small drive beside an old farmhouse. The area was a mix of old and new homes, all modest in size for the moderately privileged area. I’m sure the homeowners wouldn’t have liked me using the drive on their property, but it was the middle of the day and no one was around.
My feet crunched in the gravel as I left Vicky and headed towards the southern woods. Large oak and walnut trees flanked me before I’d taken a dozen steps. Acorns split beneath my boots and large walnut shells threatened to roll my ankles on the uneven dirt. The path was wide enough to drive a small car through and I followed it for about five minutes until it widened into a meadow. I took a deep breath and extended my senses. A boiling darkness roiled beneath the power I cast out. It was there, just west of the meadow. I shivered and stepped toward the tree line.
The wooded air thickened and the insects fell silent as the ruins came into view. Not even the wind dared to enter the old stone foundation. All that was left of the church was roughly squared off boulders. Over time the weather had smoothed their faces and moss had grown over most of the light gray stones. I don’t know how the builders managed to get the huge stones in place, but I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant.
There was a gap on the short side of the foundation closest to me. It was a narrow staircase and I followed it down to the musty ground below. What wasn’t covered in moss was buried in years of fallen leaves. I sighed and held out my hand.
“Arcesso altaria.”
The leaves shifted and vibrated as a narrow altar of black bone rose from the earth. It looked to be made of charred femurs and smaller bones I couldn’t identify. The flat of the altar was made from dozens of bony fingers laid side by side.
I took one deep breath and pulled hard on a nearby ley line. “Infernus loquor Azzazoth,” I said as I laid the letter of blood on the altar. It told the demon where to find Zola and the writings of Philip Pinkerton, Azzazoth’s human captors, and what I wanted in return. I doubted the demon would believe I’d sacrifice my master any more than I believed the demon would honor a bargain.
The black bone burst into flames and swallowed the letter with the curling of a dozen skeletal fingers.
Laughter rang out through the woods around me. I shivered and grimaced as something slithered through my mind.
I will be there, mortal. The words were slow and heavy and shook the foundation around me.
“So will I,” I whispered. The wind shrieked through the leaves and branches groaned above me as the altar faded into the earth once more.
Chapter Thirty-Three
We drove to Coldwater, Missouri in record time. The blur of pavement gave way to gravel as we wound our way through the hills and woods. We’d just passed the second gate when Cara jumped up on the dashboard.
“We can’t be too close, Damian. If we are, the demon will know there are Fae with you.”
“How close can you be?”
“Not much closer. We’ll need to get out before the fallen oak up ahead. We’ll be ready when the battle begins. Foster, Aideen, and I will circle around behind the pond. If we stay close together and keep a
reasonable distance, the demon will have no reason to be suspicious.”
I sighed and rolled down my window as Vicky came to a stop. “I hope you’re right. Be careful.”
Foster stopped just outside the window and hovered with a slow flap of his wings. “Don’t forget this is for Sam.” He glanced at my sister in the back seat, nodded once, and followed the other fairies into the woods. I breathed in the clean country air and watched them fade into the leaves and foliage.
“We will see them again,” Zola said as she tapped the dashboard with her cane.
“Yeah,” I said as I started Vicky forward again. We bounced along the gravel in silence. The woods were always familiar and the shadows felt like home. I’d spent years training on the farm with Zola.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?” she said.
“Everything,” I said as I gestured at the windshield. “Taking care of me and Sam after her attack, training me, helping us with this mess, just … everything.”
She laughed and patted my knee. “There is no need for thanks. You know Ah never would have thought of taking either of you in if it wasn’t for your gift.”
“Well, thanks anyway.”
“We could not ask for a better battlefield, boy. This is home to us both in many ways.”
“It does give us an advantage. We know where the auras and the strongest ley lines are better than anyone.”
“It will make us faster. Something we may need. Something you will definitely need.”
“I know. I know it’s risky.” I glanced in the rearview mirror at the blank look on Sam’s face. “I’d do stupider things to save Sam.”
She laughed. “Yes, boy, I believe you would.” Zola smiled as the gravel road unfolded into the grassy field with the little cabin buried in the forest.
Modern Magic Page 88
