Realms of Mirrors and Demons

by J. S. Malcom

  “As in, what exactly we’re training for,” Blair offers. She gestures with her head toward the castle and adds, “What do they think is going to happen?”

  I look past her to Alec, who says nothing for a moment as he keeps walking. Par for the course, I think. The man who rarely speaks. Well, he does appear to make exceptions for Wendy. Then he surprises me by saying, “I think it’s more a matter of what’s already happening.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Not that he’s wrong, but the question is how long are we going to wait before doing something?

  ~~~

  It's because of what Alec said that I soon find myself driving across Richmond toward Bethany's apartment. I may have an instinctive distrust of him—one I’m not sure he’s really earned—but he did point out the obvious truth. Something has very much already happened. So, what are we waiting for? Maybe Beatrice and Regina have their reasons for making us continue to train, as well as for placing us together as a team. I assume they must, but they haven't shared those reasons yet. In the meantime, all that remains of Bethany is an image suspended in glass like some sort of sick hologram. And who can say when that image will begin to fade?

  It’s already dark as I pull up in front of the apartment building, which I find disorienting since less than an hour ago I walked across a sunlit field in California. Then again, I also started my day late here on the other side of the country, having remained asleep—well, passed out, really—until after eleven. No doubt, if I hadn't just spent the afternoon trying to outrun magically manifested demon facsimiles, I'd still be suffering a massive hangover. Which wouldn't exactly work for what I have planned now.

  The police haven't yet removed the crime scene tape from the building's perimeter, so I guess their investigation must be ongoing. Then again, maybe it’s just there to keep up appearances. After all, Steve is leading the investigation and he knows it’s a lost cause. Either way, I suppose that yellow tape should stop me from going in, but I decide to view “Do Not Cross” as a suggestion rather than a command. To avoid being noticed fiddling at the front door, I walk down the ramp to the parking garage. The door to the stairwell down there is locked too, of course, but not against magic.

  I soon start climbing the stairs to the first floor, where the smell of burnt carpet stings my nostrils. If anything, it reeks more in here after a week of the place being closed up. But I’m not worried about the lingering smell. It’s the lingering supernatural energy that brought me here, and my suspicions were correct. There’s plenty of demon vibe still resonating on the first floor, and it only gets stronger as I keep climbing.

  It’s no problem finding my way back to Bethany’s apartment. After all, her door is the only one lacking scorch marks. Thankfully, I get to leave it that way since, on impulse, I nabbed a key last week before leaving. I just had a feeling about it, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from Julia, it’s to never ignore those little hunches.

  I go inside, close the door behind me, and take a moment to gauge the supernatural energy level. Yeah, it’s still off the chain, which doesn’t really surprise me. We already determined that this was ground zero for whatever happened here.

  “Okay, good,” I say, my skin crawling from the enduring presence of what must have been a particularly skanky demon.

  Why is this good? Because my plan, ill-advised though it may be, is to tap into that energy and take a little ride. Nothing too dicey, I hope. Just a little paranormal reconnaissance, if that’s even possible. I’ll soon find out.

  I wander around the apartment for a couple of minutes, but there’s no doubt the strongest vibe is in the living room. So, I go back in there and sit on the sofa. Now, it’s time to practice a different kind of skill. One unique to veil witches, and one I’ve recently sharpened by spending a little time ghost-walking with Fashenan. No, I don’t have a guide this time, but it’s not as if I’ve never popped over to another realm on my own. The only difference is that I usually take my body. Still, that’s the entire point. If I manage to pull this off, I definitely don’t want to be seen.

  I close my eyes, breathing evenly and deeply, letting myself relax into a meditative state. I envision Fashenan as she came to me in Faerie, when she both gestured for me to get up and remain in place. It took a few minutes, but eventually I understood what she was trying to tell me. More importantly, I was able to do it. All it took was allowing myself to follow her non-corporeal energy as she guided me out of my body. She’s not here, but I imagine the same again.

  I project my energy outward, envisioning a glowing blue orb just beyond my physical boundary. Unlike last time, that life force doesn’t belong to someone else. It’s my own that I imagine following. Sure enough, a moment later I turn back to see myself still sitting on the sofa. And, like last time, the feeling is familiar. After all, I have a history of leaving my body. I’m just getting better at determining when that will happen.

  Now, how to open the veil between this realm and the Inversion? I’m not connected to that realm, which is why I was able to realm-slip into both Silvermist and Faerie. I didn’t know it at the time but, technically, I’m a half-blood fae. And I sure as hell better not find out I have some distant demon relative lurking in my past. If having demon blood is even a thing, which I doubt. I’ve seen my share of demons, and there can’t be a witch in the world desperate enough to bunk down with one of those guys.

  But the thing is, I’m not trying to open any physical portals. This is a non-physical journey, and I tell myself to trust my veil witch instincts. I just need to follow the trail of lingering energy. Like catching a wave and riding it, only in this case that wave is non-physical too. Not to mention produced by nasty supernatural vermin, but I try not to think about that too much.

  Suddenly, the world around me shifts with a shuddering electric jolt that travels through my essence. While I remain in Bethany’s apartment, the hues around me alter to tones of red, orange, black and gray. Everything becomes inverted. What should be light is dark, and what should be dark is light. It’s like standing in a color-negative film that keeps pulsating and shaking, to the point where I feel lightheaded, as if I might stagger even though my feet don’t touch the ground. Despite being outside my body, I still feel the sensation of my heart pounding and my blood racing. I make the mistake of turning to see my physical self again. I remain seated on the couch, only now with my eyes wide and my mouth gaping. My hands tremble spastically where they rest on my thighs.

  This can’t be good. I should get the hell out of here now. But it’s that same thought that makes me stay, since if a few seconds here can do this to me, what has it been doing to Bethany? And the others, if this is where they’re being kept. Can a human being even survive in this place? I’m just not sure, but it feels barely possible.

  I stand my ground for a few more moments, trying to gain back my equilibrium. It takes a lot of effort, but reminding myself that I’m not physical helps. I tell myself that I can only be scared here, even terrified, but I can’t be hurt. My body, that tether keeping me alive, remains rooted very much in the human realm. It takes everything I have, but I let myself float across the room to the window. I look out to see a flickering orange sky, while the horizon pulsates with a fiery glow.

  I look down, half-expecting to see humans held captive and vampires flocking to feed. Thankfully, that’s not what happens. I see just one person walking along the sidewalk. While he too appears as a color-negative version of himself, he seems okay. Then I notice something else—a dark form that at first I think is a shadow. But it doesn’t move as the person’s shadow. It floats independently above him. What the hell is that thing?

  I float farther out, drifting through the sky like I did in Faerie. Only this time the sky is orange, the ground below a mix of white, gray and black. Everything keeps pulsating and flashing, as if even through non-physical eyes I can’t quite process what I’m seeing. I almost turn back, but I don’t. I can’t learn anything that way,
and if I leave I feel sure I’ll never return.

  I think, Take me to where there’s more people.

  Instantly, I find myself hovering over a city street. Below, there are people out walking, probably going to bars and restaurants. I drop lower still to get a closer look. Sure enough, some of those out walking are being trailed by shadows. Shadows with wills of their own. They float up and down, coming closer and then backing off again. I command my sight to calibrate. Using my witch’s vision—the same I’d use to track a life force—things shift again. First, I see those life forces in the people below, but then I pull my vision back. Now, I see auras, and I concentrate on the auras of those being followed. Interesting. Those auras pulse with color from the darker spectrum—the sickly hues of dark purple, deep red and mustard-green associated with anger, mistrust, jealousy and greed, to name a few.

  I look back to the shadowy forms again, realizing that they too now have humanoid shapes. No gender is evident, but they’re thin, elongated and covered with scales. Black wings on their backs pump against the air.

  “What the fuck did you just say?”

  I turn to find the source of the man’s voice. I see him below, where he’s pitted off against another. One man looks like a biker type, the other a jock. They stand face to face, their legs flexed and their fists balled. But it's what's behind them that both fascinates and disgusts me. Two winged, scaled creatures stand on the ground now too. Their tales flick at the air as they draw closer to the men. One of them leans in at the jock's ear, its lips moving silently.

  A split-second later, that man speaks. “I said it was a fucking accident. I barely touched you. But you know what? You're an asshole, bro.”

  A punch is thrown, followed by another, as blood sprays and onlookers shout and jeer. The auras of those fighting, now red and orange, flare out in waves. Behind the men, the demons open gaping mouths to feed upon that energy, drawing those violent auras into themselves.

  That’s as much as I can take before I unmoor myself. I leave that scene to drift upon the air. I rise higher, but not as high as before. Demons float beside me, more like those I just saw, scaled and spindly monsters with scalloped leathery wings. They remain oblivious to my presence, although that has nothing to do with me being invisible. Like the creatures from my dream, these demons have no eyes in their dark, gaunt faces. They have just the one long slit of a mouth and two more slits for nostrils that sniff at the air.

  Suddenly, one of them lifts its head, its nostrils quivering furiously. It breaks off from the others, compelled by something their senses didn't catch. Both curious and frightened, I follow as it flies through the pulsating sky. It travels first over the downtown area, the city lit up below. I see other buildings now too for the first time, huge structures of stone with columns rising to support their entrances. They look to have been constructed long ago, centuries in the past. Logic tells me they can’t truly be there, while instinct tells me otherwise. Those buildings must remain hidden from us by some form of magic.

  I keep looking back at them, curious and amazed, but we’re moving too fast. Soon, those buildings fade from view as we fly over a less densely populated part of the city. There, the demon hovers once more sniffing the air. Then it keeps flying, covering miles in a matter of seconds. It stops once more to circle above a large lot bordering the river. Suddenly, it descends toward a house. What could possibly draw it out this far?

  The demon swoops in low, and then touches down. It walks toward a man who’s crouched outside the house. He’s hiding in the bushes, looking through a window at a young woman. She looks young, in her teens or early twenties at the most. She wears shorts and a tank top as she listens to music through earbuds. Swaying her hips, she crosses from one room to the other.

  The man speaks under his breath, his voice tight with lust. “That’s right, baby. More of that. I like it when you move that way.”

  As he mutters these words, his aura radiates a sickly mustard color. The demon’s nostrils quiver again. It draws closer to the man, standing directly behind him as it opens its mouth. I watch, both fascinated and repulsed, as the demon feeds upon that aura.

  Inside the house, the girl goes into the kitchen, still dancing to her music. She has her back to the window as she bends over to retrieve a pet bowl from the floor. The man outside the house growls in his throat. “Damn, you’re freaking hot. Now, open the door. Like you do every night.”

  The girl fills the bowl, and then taps a spoon against its metal rim. In my peripheral vision, I see something moving. The glowing form of a cat struts toward the house, drawn by that sound from inside.

  Suddenly, my pulse escalates. I watch stricken with fear, unable to stop what’s about to happen. I scream, “No, don’t! Please don’t open that door!”

  But I have no voice, at least not one that can be heard by the girl, the man, or even the demon. The girl puts the bowl back on the floor and goes to open the door. The man rises from the bushes.

  I just can’t watch. I turn and run, not even thinking to fly, tears streaming from my eyes. Yes, ghosts can cry. I’ve seen them do so many times. And, in this moment, that’s what I am for all intents and purposes. A helpless ghost who can do nothing to help that girl. I reach for answers within myself. Maybe if I get back to my body, I can call the police. Or I can get in my car and race across town to… do what? I hope to God not, but it’s probably happening already, and I don’t even know where I am. All I know is that I’m near a house by the river somewhere outside the city.

  I let out a scream of rage that no one hears. I want my magic to well up inside me, so I can go back there and strike down both man and demon alike. But in this state, I possess no magic. I’ve learned that all too well in the past.

  I wipe my eyes, about to lift to the sky when something blots out the glow above me. I look up to see another winged form soaring past, this one massive compared to the others. Its energy pulls at me, sucking at my core. I stumble through the grass, suddenly afraid to leave the ground. The creature turns back, flying lower and coming closer. I change my course and it does too, like an eagle tracking its prey. It can’t be possible, but it seems to know I’m here.

  I stand frozen with fear as the shadow swoops in low once more. It drops to the ground, its dark energy collapsing in upon itself. The form, before diffused and spread far, takes on definition. In the pulsing red light, a woman strides toward me. Her beauty is unearthly, as if she’s been cut from marble. She has burgundy hair, a straight nose and full red lips. She’s tall and lithe, perfectly proportioned, dressed in sheer cloth that glimmers in the flickering light. The word “goddess” comes to mind, but if she’s a goddess, she’s one of demons alone.

  Suddenly, Beatrice’s words echo inside my mind. If you ever encountered a high demon, you’d know.

  She speaks softly, almost purring. “It’s you, isn’t it? I knew you’d come here.”

  My mouth drops open in shock, but I stop myself from speaking.

  The woman’s nostrils flare as she draws closer. “Just because the drudes didn’t sense your presence, did you think you were free to come and go?”

  I will myself not to move or breathe, even though I have no lungs and no beating heart to give me away.

  The woman stops just inches from my face. Her amber eyes seem to stare right at me. “Whether I can see you or not doesn’t matter,” she says. “We sense everything that enters this realm. We feel everything that enters this realm.”

  She rises from the ground, her hair drifting with a breeze I can’t feel. Arcs of electricity sizzle around her as ozone fills the air.

  Cassie!

  The woman raises a hand engulfed in fiery light. Pressure builds, like lightning about to strike. “Your time is over, veil witch.”

  Cassie! Where are you?

  Suddenly, I’m propelled backwards through a flickering tunnel, moving so fast that everything becomes a blur. A split second later, I open my eyes and gasp loud. I draw in one deep breath,
and then another. I look down to see my still shaking hands resting upon my thighs. Bethany’s apartment comes into focus around me. As I learned from Fashenan before, when you’re ghost-walking, a single thought will take you where you need to go. Only this time, I was too stunned to think. Too shocked and overwhelmed. It was Julia who broke the spell to which I’d nearly succumbed. As in the past, my connection to her has saved me once again.

  CHAPTER 26

  I spend the next morning at home, depressed and fighting anxiety as I keep going over what happened last night. I try starting with the positive, such as it is, by considering what I might have learned from the experience. First, there's the obvious fact that I can access the Inversion, that nightmare realm filled with psychic vampires. Because that's what demons are, aren't they? Parasites thriving on the most toxic aspects of human existence. Knowing I can visit where they live isn't exactly comforting, since I'd give anything to forget going there at all. I could have stood in the shower all morning and it wouldn't have made a difference. I'll never be able to wash that stain from my soul.

  So, there it is. Essentially, I can visit Hell if I feel like it, just in case I feel the need for a dose of spiritual poison. As far as the Inversion goes, there’s the end of the positive.

  As for the negative, first and foremost is the fact that the Inversion is a warped mirror image of our own realm. Or, perhaps more accurately, a frequency of our own reality to which we normally remain oblivious. Thank God for that, but if Bethany is being held captive there somehow, I’m not sure how I can help her. I have about the same odds of finding her as I would searching the city of Richmond on foot. In other words, I haven't the first clue of where to start.

  Of course, there's also the fact that, apparently, high demons can sniff out my presence. Well, at least one high demon, who wasn't kind enough to offer her name. Yeah, well, I plan to learn it sooner or later. Preferably, just before I end her. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment.