Hot Magic

by Holli Bertram

  “Hello. Can I help you?” The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She wore jeans and a white T-shirt, covered with a bright, orange bib apron. The same coffee-guzzling devil from the window decorated her oversized pocket. Her brown hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her blue eyes sparkled with more energy. Julie glanced at the big clock on the wall behind the woman—7:25 p.m.

  Five minutes until her deadline. She marched up to the counter. “Excuse me, are you a demon?”

  The woman’s smile took on a wicked edge. “Some of my boyfriends have called me that. Who wants to know?”

  “Julie Dancer.”

  “Ah, Ms. Dancer. We’ve been expecting you. Have a seat, and I’ll be right back.”

  The woman went back through the door behind the counter. At least Julie had the right place. She gripped the counter, trying to still the tension thrumming through her. She couldn’t run. She had to do this. She had no choice.

  At first she thought the loud noise pounding in her ears was her heart. Then she realized it came from the street. She ran back to the door and looked out. Mom marched down the sidewalk, followed by a group of elderly women in pink T-shirts. Behind them followed a crowd of people that extended halfway down the block. But what caused Julie to almost sink to the floor with relief was the sight of Harry. He strode on one side of Mom, Bas on the other. The cavalry had arrived. Too late, but she would have a chance to see Harry and her mom one more time.

  She ran out the door onto the sidewalk. Harry did not look as happy to see her, as she was to see him.

  “What in bloody hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be safe at your mother’s.” He stopped in front of her and barked out the question.

  “She made a deal with me.” Joe’s voice came from behind her shoulder.

  A collective gasp arose from the group now forming a large semi-circle around the coffee shop. The round, accusing eyes of the Triad members focused on her. She looked over her shoulder at Joe. His expression held a possessive quality as he smiled at her. Yikes.

  “No.” Harry’s clipped voice brought her attention back to him. He stared calmly at her, waiting for her to deny it. “I told you it’s forbidden for Triad members to enter into deals or contracts with demons.”

  “Harry, normally I wouldn’t. But this is about Tash’s life.” Julie didn’t want Harry to think less of her for breaking one of his precious rules.

  “No matter what the cause, you do not make deals with demons. You’re Triad.”

  “Is she?” Joe put his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think so.” Harry’s gaze sliced to the hand on her shoulder. He looked back at her, as if waiting for her to shrug it off. She stood quietly.

  “Get your paws off my daughter.” Jean rushed forward and pushed Joe backward, severing his connection with Julie.

  “Mom!” Julie quickly glanced at Joe, but he seemed more amused than angry.

  “Julie.” Harry’s hand reached out to her. “Come here.”

  She stared at his hand, imagining how it would feel in hers. Hard, warm, safe. With a sigh, she asked him the one question that mattered, studying his face as she did so. “Can you get Tasha out?”

  “Yes.” He responded with no hesitation. Honesty and determination were stamped on his features. “We’ve been in contact with Abigor.”

  “Can you guarantee that Abigor won’t hurt her?”

  “Can he?” He nodded toward Joe. She noticed he hadn’t answered the question.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you specifically ask him if Tasha would be returned to you unharmed?”

  She racked her brain, trying to remember the conversation. “I guess I didn’t, but he implied he could get her out safely if I made his deadline.”

  Harry rubbed a hand over his face, an unusual show of emotion for him. “Ask him, Julie,” he growled the words.

  Julie turned to Joe, aware of the hushed silence of the crowd. “Joe?”

  Joe didn’t look at her. He stared at Harry, his eyes cold and dead. “She may be released unharmed. That hasn’t been negotiated yet.”

  Julie stepped away from him. Joe put a hand on her arm. “I’ll talk to Abigor, Julie. He has no reason to harm your daughter or the boy. Come with me. I’ll take you to Tasha and Luc now. You can see your daughter for yourself.”

  “What are the terms of your agreement?” Harry’s voice broke the spell Joe was weaving.

  Julie tried to remember the exact words. “I said almost exactly the same thing that I did in the coffee shop. I agreed to go to Gehenna with him for the release of Tash and Luc.”

  The crowd gasped, and her mother swore. Harrison’s expression didn’t change. He watched Joe with focused intensity. Julie felt unaccountably guilty, so she turned to Bas, who had been surprisingly silent through all this.

  “Bas?” Her teacher usually had something to say about everything.

  “This choice is yours alone, Julie.” His expression was serious.

  “The choice may be hers alone,” Harrison interjected, “but she should know the consequences of any decision she makes. Julie.” His commanding voice brought her gaze to his. “If you make a deal with this demon, if you survive and return from Gehenna, you will be brought for judgment before the Council. This is one of the most serious crimes you can commit.”

  “And if I don’t make a deal with a demon? What happens to Tash?” And if she did, was there such a thing as a Triad lawyer?

  “Abigor can’t hold her. I’ll not rest until your daughter is free,” Harrison said firmly. His golden eyes, warm and steady, willed her to believe him, to trust in him. “Don’t go with the demon. Stay.”

  “Come with me now.” Joe touched her arm. “You’ll have Tasha back home almost immediately, with none of the delays of negotiating with Abigor.”

  The clock struck the half hour and stilled. The last glimmer of light from the sun danced on the horizon. The world seemed to pause, waiting for Julie’s decision.

  She trusted Harrison with her life. With her daughter’s life. She knew he would negotiate with Abigor, pull whatever strings he had to pull and free her daughter. She also knew he would not go into the protective circle of the Council while he did so. He would stay and fight for Tasha, and Marguerite would place the second tie. The tie he said would drive him insane.

  She couldn’t let him do that. Not when she had another way of saving Tash.

  “Julie.” Joe tugged at her arm.

  She ignored him, her gaze still on Harry. “Harry, go home. Get into the circle. I’ll get Tasha.”

  Emotion, stark and raw, flared in Harry’s eyes. Julie stepped back, pushed by the anger on his usually impassive face. What had happened to the unemotional, cool-headed Balance? He looked livid with rage.

  “I don’t want you hurt,” she whispered, as Joe pulled her back into the Devil’s Brew. She turned toward the interior of the coffee shop, then took one last look behind her. No one followed. Her mother stood in front of a veritable army of Triad members, unmoving, looking older than Julie had ever seen her look.

  Harry stood off to the side of the crowd, tall and alone. Despite the power etched in his bearing, she felt his vulnerability. He watched her with a terrible gaze that hurt. Bas stepped to his side and put a hand on his arm. Julie wasn’t sure if the hand was meant to comfort or restrain Harry.

  “Julie.” When Bas spoke, even Joe stopped to listen. “Abigor and his demons will try to trick you. The trade is one thing, but after the trade is made, if you verbally agree to remain in Gehenna for any length of time—even a moment—it will bind you forever. No one will be able to get you out.”

  Julie nodded, feeling more frightened and alone than she could ever remember. Joe tugged on her arm again, pulling her through the door into the coffee shop. The lighted room seemed too cheery and comfortable to be a reception area to eternal damnation.

  She followed Joe behind the counter and went through the swinging door that led into the back room. The door clo
sed behind them, locking out the light, leaving them in total darkness. Joe didn’t falter, easily moving through the room. Julie’s panic grew when she realized he didn’t need the light to see.

  What exactly had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tasha sat on a gleaming white floor, her back against a solid white wall made of some material she’d never seen. The wall had no seams and felt smooth and hard, like marble. The room’s harsh lighting sprang from nowhere. The temperature felt slightly warm, but not uncomfortable. A faint scent of lemon tickled her nostrils, as if someone had just finished cleaning the room. She stretched out her legs, pointing her toes. Her white tennis shoes almost faded into the floor, making it look like her feet disappeared at the end of her blue jeans. Great. The all-white room must have caused sensory deprivation and she was now having hallucinations.

  Luc hadn’t spoken much since they’d been popped into this room from the park in Chicago. They had both worked slowly around the room, examining the smooth surfaces closely. There was no apparent means of escape, or even any vents for air to circulate, for that matter. But since she was breathing quite easily, that didn’t seem to be a problem.

  “How long do you think we’ve been here?” She looked over at Luc, who was sitting next to her.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps several hours, perhaps several days.”

  Tasha tapped the face of her watch. “My watch isn’t working.”

  “Time doesn’t exist on the immortal planes. Your watch won’t function until we return to our world.”

  “I wonder if that’s why neither of us has had to go to the bathroom since we got here. Wait, we’re on an immortal plane?” Her brain screeched to a halt. She had no way to process that information. “I really should have taken more physics, or philosophy or maybe even Greek mythology in school.”

  “Nothing you could learn in a human school would help in this situation. You should have attended a Triad boarding school.”

  She turned her head to look at him. He was close to her, and she could see the faint, blond stubble on his jaw. She wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. His eyelashes, a deep brown at the base, became lighter along their length until the tips seemed to shimmer with silver. He appeared unaware of her fascination with his features. He stared straight ahead at the wall opposite them, his brow slightly furrowed.

  She cleared her throat. “You went to a Triad boarding school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. What do we do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I see I missed out on a great education.”

  “We’re in a holding cell awaiting judgment. Nothing can be done until the demons decide what to do with us.”

  “Demons? When did they enter the picture? What do they have to do with Chicago rat gangs? Oh my God. IsthislikePurgatory?” Her words tripped out, her heart raced and black dots flashed in front of her eyes.

  “You’re not Catholic, are you?” There was a thread of amusement in his voice. “Demons aren’t in Purgatory. They’re in Hell. Or as they like to call it, Gehenna.”

  His arm wrapped around her shoulder. The weight of it felt like an anchor, holding her to reality. She drew in slow, measured breaths and stared resolutely at her denim-covered knees until her heart rate slowed to a brisk trot. “So what are their options?” she asked.

  “Whose options?”

  “The demons. What could they do to us?”

  “They have two choices. They keep us here or they send us back.”

  “What are the chances they’ll send us back?”

  “I’ve never heard of it being done.”

  Tasha shivered, despite the warmth. She shifted out of his hold and half-turned so she could see his face. “The Skaven called me a prize.”

  “For once they have it right. You are a prize.”

  Tasha managed a small smile at that. “Do demons kidnap humans often?”

  “No.” He held her gaze. “But then, we’re not truly human, Natasha.”

  She swallowed. “Maybe you’re not, but I can’t do what you do. I feel very human.”

  He touched a strand of her hair, his finger grazing her cheek. “You feel like you. You just thought that was human.”

  Whatever she was, she liked the way he made her feel. She leaned into his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  “For what?” She lifted her head to look into his eyes.

  “For bringing you to Chicago and placing you in a dangerous situation. For not being able to save you from this.”

  “It’s not your job to save me. I’m a big girl. I made my own decision to go with you.” Which, in retrospect, was looking pretty stupid. Why hadn’t they just called her grandmother?

  “Since you don’t have all the information about this world you live in, you can’t make truly informed decisions.” The man was stubbornly determined to shoulder the responsibility for this mess. “You trusted me not to place you in danger.”

  “I guess I did. But, come on, we were going to visit my grandmother. Who would expect that we’d be attacked and sent to an immortal plane? Give yourself a break.” And ditto that for herself.

  A faint noise intruded into the room, the first they’d heard since arriving. She jerked, caught by a familiarity to the sound, and put her ear to the wall. All of her practical, rational thought processes gave way to hope.

  “Do you hear voices?” She scrambled to her feet. “I hear voices.”

  “I believe that happens a lot here, low rumblings and moans, occasional screams.”

  “No, I hear my mom.” She had to make noise, let her mother know she was here. She began beating the wall with her fist. “Mom. Mom! I’m here. Mom.” She paused to listen. The voices, almost inaudible to begin with, grew fainter until they disappeared.

  She slugged the wall repeatedly with hard, angry punches, calling out as loudly as she could. Her arm muscles hurt. Small smears of blood marked the whiteness from where her skin split against her knuckles. Her throat dried, and her chest heaved. Then Luc stood behind her. He pulled her away from the wall, turned her and dragged her against him.

  “Shhhh.” He whispered softly into her hair.

  “That was Mom. I know it was.” Tasha never cried, even the day her father moved out. She sagged against Luc, eyes dry and burning.

  Luc tightened his arms but said nothing. He held her for what felt like hours, his hand rubbing her neck and the base of her skull, soothing her.

  “All of my life, no matter what happened, I always knew mom and grandma were there for me. My safety net.” She pushed away from his chest and looked up into his clear, steady eyes. “Do you have anyone like that?”

  “Yes.” His response was immediate. “Marguerite. Our parents died when we were young. Marguerite has always been there for me, and I for her.”

  “You understand then.” Tasha took a shaky breath.

  “Yes.”

  “Mom’s not here, is she?”

  “Her presence in this place is highly unlikely,” Luc confirmed.

  Tasha wrapped her arms around her body. “Then this really is Hell.”

  Joe pulled Julie quickly through the back room of Devil’s Brew. Nobody was around, not even the young female demon who had waited on her when she arrived. Julie got a brief impression of shadowed counters and boxes that probably held pastries ready to be put in the display case out front. The smell of coffee weighted the air until taking a deep breath almost felt like taking a sip.

  The rich scent triggered a memory that caused her panic to subside. She flashed back to school mornings when she’d wake to the smell of the coffee her mom always made for Dad. She’d lie in bed for precious extra minutes, knowing Mom would be making her a sack lunch while Dad cooked the one and only thing he knew how to make—oatmeal. She’d rush to get dressed and then run downstairs where all three of them would have oatmeal sprinkled with brown sugar and milk.

  Then Dad would drop her off at sc
hool on his way to work. “Knock ‘em dead, today, Princess,” he’d say every morning as she got out of the car. She’d groan at his corny phrase, but she’d feel like a princess for a few seconds, forgetting her frizzy hair and the fact that she hadn’t understood the last three math problems on her homework.

  Joe tugged her hand, and she almost fell as she came back to the present. Her father’s words stayed with her. She’d knock ‘em dead today, and she’d get her daughter back.

  Joe dragged her toward two large stainless steel doors. When he opened one, a frigid rush of air greeted her.

  “The Gate to Gehenna is a walk-in freezer?” Julie asked in disbelief.

  “Abigor has a sense of humor,” Joe said flatly, not a hint of amusement in his voice. “A frozen entrance to the fiery place—get it?”

  “Funny guy, that Abigor.” The freezer was pitch black. Julie couldn’t tell how big it was. The cold assaulted her nose, freezing her nasal passages with each breath. Joe walked into the dark cavern, and Julie followed. Joe pulled the inside handles of the freezer door, the room growing even darker as he closed them. Suddenly, a small shadow squeezed through the door.

  “You’re not going without me.” Her mother’s voice, breathless but resolved.

  Joe swore. “How did you get past the wards I placed?”

  “There are Shadow Walkers and Penumbrae outside, along with the Dancers. Tonight is the beginning of the full moon. Your wards won’t hold against their combined power on a night like tonight.”

  “Go away, Jean Dancer.”

  “Like I’m going to listen to you? My daughter is not going to Gehenna to rescue my granddaughter while I sit on earth twiddling my thumbs. Take me, or I’ll gather enough Triad members to split your Gates wide open and give every human in Chicago the grand tour of your stinking homestead.”

  Joe sighed. “You are trouble, Jean Dancer. You may come, but I have a feeling I’m going to regret this decision.”