Hot Magic

by Holli Bertram

  “Of course,” he responded.

  Julie shot a triumphant look at her father and placed a hand on the shoulder of her mother and Harry. Julie Deluxe blinked out of the room.

  “You’re making a mistake, Julie,” her father warned. “You’re part demon. Gehenna calls to you. You will return.”

  “No. I’m not like you. I don’t belong here.” Her voice wobbled. Harry put an arm around her waist. Harry, so strong and honest. “I don’t belong here,” she repeated, more firmly.

  “Jean. Stay.” Abigor looked at her mother.

  Jean took the papers that Harry was still holding. “I found these in your office. Do you want them back?”

  His face hardened. “No.”

  Jean watched him as she tossed the papers in the air. They floated slowly to the ground. Julie could make out a faded pink crayon heart on one of the sheets. She knew it had the words “I love you, Grandpa” scrawled across it. The other sheet was a letter that she could recite by heart. Her love and sorrow were poured onto that page, along with the tears she’d been shedding when she’d tucked both of the folded pieces of paper into the inside pocket of her father’s suit coat as he lay in the casket.

  “I’m going with my daughter.”

  Abigor’s face didn’t change. “She’s come into her powers, Jean. She belongs to me.”

  “You can’t have her, Abe. I won’t let you have her.”

  Abigor didn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes, dark with promise and intent, swung to Julie. Bone-deep fear chilled her. This wasn’t the father she remembered.

  “Take us home,” Julie yelled, the words tumbling out in panic. They had to leave. Now. This second.

  A wild rush of power whipped through her. A mad exultation of unlimited strength and possibility.

  “You are above good and evil, Princess. You will return.” The words echoed in her head.

  Her gaze locked with her father’s as she vanished from the room.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” Julie looked up from her computer in disbelief as Joe walked into her office.

  “I’m kind of surprised you’re here, too,” Joe grumbled and dropped in the chair in front of her desk. He set his latte carefully on the armrest.

  Despite everything, Julie still liked Joe. Call her crazy. She leaned forward, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “So, what happened in Gehenna after I left?”

  “Let’s just say all hell broke loose.”

  She smiled. “Stop it. It’s hard to hate you when you make me smile.”

  “Believe me, I’m not feeling very funny today, so hate away.” He sipped at his coffee.

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “Not really. I got you to Gehenna.”

  Julie leaned back in her chair. She picked up the pencil in front of her and tapped the eraser on the desk. “Why are you here, Joe?”

  “I’m just shooting the breeze while I take a coffee break.”

  “No. Why are you here? As in not in Gehenna.”

  “I told you,” he said slowly, meeting her gaze. “I don’t give up easily. I’m going to convince you the slow burn is better than fireworks.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That was the line you used when you wanted to seduce me so I’d go to Gehenna with you. Did Dad give you the job to get me back?”

  “Nope. You are no longer a duty.”

  “Then what gives?”

  “You are a pleasure,” he said simply. “I don’t have many of those.”

  “Joe,” she exhaled his name softly.

  He sipped his coffee, not meeting her gaze.

  “Stop talking like this. You’re a demon. You can’t care about people.”

  “You’re a half-demon, and you care about people. Abigor cares about your mother.”

  “Obviously my non-demon gene is dominant in this case. Caring about a person means putting them first. Dad, and you, too, Joe, don’t know how to do that.”

  “And Harrison does?” Joe stood up and tossed his empty paper cup in the waste can. “Maybe we do put ourselves first, but Harrison puts the law first. You won’t come any higher on the totem pole with him.”

  “Charming. Is that supposed to make me jump in your arms?”

  “No. Not today. But I’m putting you on notice. Someday you will.”

  “Go away, Joe.”

  He walked to the door and paused. “Go home and get some rest, Julie. Yesterday you were in Gehenna. Hell can suck the life out of you.”

  “Goodbye.” She didn’t want his concern. But the minute he left the office, she laid her head on the desk, exhausted. She’d come in to work to take a break from thinking about the craziness her life had become. She’d forgotten the craziness had filled every little nook and cranny of her existence.

  After returning from Gehenna yesterday, Harry had left immediately for London with Bas. They planned to consult with the Council on a way to get rid of Marguerite’s curse. If Marguerite found the key to Lobolo in Harry’s mind, and released Ashakarin and the rest of the Lost Souls, the havoc caused by the recent demon activity would seem minor by comparison.

  Luc had gone in search of Marguerite, who’d disappeared. Harry said she was managing to hide her whereabouts from him, too. And Tasha had left for her dorm in a huff, still angry Julie hadn’t taken her to Gehenna.

  That left Julie alone with her mother.

  They needed to have a serious conversation. Instead, they had sat in the living room, staring at each other for about a half hour, both too tired to talk about what had just happened. Mom finally went into the guest bedroom. She’d left for Chicago this morning, saying she had business with the Gigis.

  They were going to become a dysfunctional family if they didn’t start talking about all this stuff pretty soon.

  Julie straightened from her desk and laughed out loud. What was she thinking? They might become a dysfunctional family? They were the poster family for dysfunction. Her life would send daytime talk show hosts into a feeding frenzy—Next Up: What to do when your Demon Dad returns from the grave.

  Could her quiet middle years get any less quiet?

  A knock brought her attention to her open door. Several people stood just outside her office. She didn’t recognize any of them, but one or two of the women wore pink Gigi T-shirts. Worried that something may have happened to her mom, Julie stood and rounded her desk.

  “Hello. Can I help you?”

  A man stepped out of the group and into her office. Large, muscled forearms were bared by his rolled-up sleeves. He wore faded jeans and work boots. Black hair lay flat on his head, like he’d just taken off a hat of some sort. He looked about her age, his face weathered by the outdoors.

  She met his gaze and took an involuntary step backwards. Contempt blazed from his pale green eyes.

  “Are you Julie Dancer?” His voice held a midwestern twang.

  Since her door had a nameplate beside it, it probably wouldn’t do much good to deny it. “No,” she tried anyway.

  He ignored her. “By the power invested in me through Triad Law, I place you under arrest.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bas walked into Harry’s office and closed the solid oak door. “There are three Dancers sitting in the lobby with Heidi. Each one of them has offered to sleep with you to break the curse. Go pick one.”

  Harrison could barely hear Bas through the barrage of images pelting his brain. Marguerite was no longer a worm in his head. She’d become a raging elephant. He lifted his head from the obscenely large desk he worked on. What had Bas said? Three Dancers? Did that mean that Julie, Tasha and Jean were here? He frowned, not sure he’d understood correctly. “Go pick a woman?”

  “Sex, Harrison. Combine power with a Dancer in the old-fashioned way and possibly break the curse.”

  “Is one of the women Julie?” He despised himself for asking.

  “No. There isn’t any danger you’ll bond with one of these. Unfortunately, they don’t begin to have Julie’s power, eit
her.” Bas frowned. “Maybe if you have sex with more than one at time, the power will be cumulative.”

  Disappointment. And adding to that, disinterest. “I don’t think I can.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice. Even though Marguerite knows the truth about Belle, she hasn’t the capacity to break the curse. Ashakarin has too great a hold on her. She is his puppet.”

  Harrison slumped in his chair, not hearing the rest of whatever Bas said. Every ounce of his will focused on keeping the key to Lobolo hidden. He heard a rumble that he assumed must be Bas’s voice, but he didn’t really care.

  Bugger Marguerite. She sifted through his memories, bringing them to the surface, forcing him to relive every one as she worked through them. Time became non-existent. He was a young boy again, holding tightly to his father’s hand as they approached the massive double doors of South Haven Academy. Now he was a young man, reading a historical text, learning his father’s role in ending the Great War. He flashed again to childhood, in the library, studying. He couldn’t track the flow of minutes or hours. Bas’s voice echoed. Pain rocketed through his head, pounding, pounding.

  Insidious, dark tendrils, so small and innocuous that he almost didn’t notice them, began to snake through his brain. Wisps of smoke, seeking to grab hold, take root. He staggered to his feet and knocked against something. His desk. Fear and adrenaline coursed through his system.

  This wasn’t Marguerite. This was the evil that fueled her making an attack.

  Black clouded his vision, pressed against him. He couldn’t breathe. He grabbed at power, shaped it into a strong beam and directed it toward this foe that had no end. He couldn’t possibly win. Already he felt tired, weakened. But he couldn’t lose.

  He fought for his soul.

  Luc appeared in the office beside Bas just as Harrison slid, boneless, to the floor. Bas ignored him and dropped to his knees beside Harrison.

  “I’ve found Marguerite.” Luc sounded strange, hollow.

  Bas placed a hand on Harrison’s forehead. “Where is she?”

  Luc waved his hand and Marguerite sprawled on the floor beside Harrison. She wore the white linen pants she favored, with a loose, blue cotton shirt. Both were smudged and wrinkled as if sweaty hands had pulled at the cloth. Marguerite’s usually perfect nails were cracked and broken, indications that her own hands had made the marks.

  Her long, silver hair, usually immaculate, tangled around her head. Her eyelids, closed tightly, twitched as if even the light of the office pained her.

  “Help her, Bascule.” Luc clenched his hands into fists. “Nothing I’ve tried has worked. Help her,” he repeated, the words a terse order.

  Bas laid a gentle hand against the woman’s forehead. She jumped, as if his touch hurt. He didn’t leave his hand there long. “Ashakarin uses the connection she forged to try to take control of Harrison. Marguerite is a conduit for the demon.”

  “What can we do?” Luc asked.

  “Hope that she doesn’t burn out, that she can handle the bile flowing through her. She will be tainted for life if she does survive.”

  Luc watched his sister, face expressionless. “And what of the Balance?”

  “The Balance fights.” Bas closed his eyes for a moment, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Harrison is mortal. He can’t win against an immortal. The power Ashakarin brings against him is immense. That Harrison has resisted so far is a miracle. He does the impossible.”

  “The angels must help.” Luc looked around as if one would materialize any moment. “This can’t be allowed.”

  “The angels wait and watch.”

  “What for?” Frustration edged Luc’s voice.

  “I don’t know.” Bas glanced at the heavens, his lips twisting slightly. “I’ve never been one to wait and watch.” He looked once more at Harrison and then seemed to come to a decision. “Don’t let anyone enter this room until I return. Your sister, Ashakarin and the Balance are tied in a delicate triangle and must not be disturbed.” He walked to one of the large windows in the office and opened it. “I go for one who can help.”

  Julie’s prison cell looked like a Valentine’s Day card gone wild. The two predominant colors were red and white, and for some strange reason an enormous number of heart-shaped items littered the room. The color scheme was the exact opposite of the sterile white of Gehenna, but still, being held captive was growing old fast. She glanced at her watch. She’d been in this comfortable, window-less room for seven long hours already and hadn’t seen anyone. Thank goodness there was a small, attached, also window-less, bathroom.

  She could, of course, leave at any time. At least, she thought she could. She still didn’t totally trust her ability to wield energy. But if she could get out of Gehenna, she sure as heck shouldn’t have any trouble getting out of London.

  Harry kept her here. Flouting the laws that Harrison upheld didn’t seem like a good idea. Besides, she desperately wanted to see him again. Sitting in the Seat of Judgment might be the fastest way.

  She’d explain her side of things, the Council would understand and everything would be fine. Hopefully. She kept remembering the look on Harry’s face when he’d ordered her not to go to Gehenna, and she’d gone anyway. And now there was the additional issue of her being a potential wild power.

  She walked to the white dresser and picked up a brush that sat on top of a heart-shaped doily. Looking in the heart-shaped mirror, she sighed and began brushing her hair. Not that it did any good. How had Deluxe managed that soft, silky wave?

  She set down the brush and paced the room. She flopped back on the red, silk duvet that covered the bed and stretched out. Hadn’t Linda Hamilton kept in shape doing chin-ups while she was in a mental hospital during the first Terminator movie? She kicked off her sensible shoes and began flexing her toes. She didn’t have enough energy for chin-ups. She’d start small with toe flexes, and maybe she’d work her way up.

  Here she was with plenty of time and no work that had to be done. She could think great thoughts or figure out answers to pressing world problems…or check out the closets.

  She stopped the toe flexes (who wanted bulging toes anyway?) and hopped off the bed. Inside a pair of wide doors was a closet full of clothes. She frowned and checked several tags. They were all new and all her size. Exactly how long was she going to be here and did all prisoners get a new wardrobe?

  Pushing aside hangers, she wondered who had picked out the clothes. They weren’t her usual style, which leaned toward casual comfort. These clothes looked more like something Julie Deluxe would wear.

  Maybe she should try one of the outfits on. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to pick them out. She quickly shed the brown slacks and cream-colored shirt she’d worn to work that morning and slipped into a deceptively simple black dress. It was sleeveless with a round neck and a zipper up the side. It hit her legs mid-thigh.

  She stepped over to the full-length mirror. How could something so simple look not so simple once it was on her body? The material of the dress was soft and clingy, and hugged her in a good way.

  She padded back to the closet and studied the rows of shelves that held shoes. A pair of low-heeled black sandals reminded her of a pair she had at home. Her eyes kept straying, however, to a pair of shiny red, sex-on-a-heel shoes with ankle straps. She pulled them out and buckled them on. Whoa. She sauntered to the mirror, one hand on her hip, and grinned. Not bad, Dancer. Not bad at all.

  A knock sounded on the door. Julie started in surprise and turned toward it. Her stomach knotted as the door handle turned.

  Linda marched into the room. Dressed in her purple outfit, the massive woman shut the door behind her. She paused, silent, and took in the white rag carpet, the bed with a red, silk comforter and the white dresser and chair. Then her eyes settled on Julie. “Before he chased after you to Gehenna, the Balance told Heidi to get a room ready for you in case you were arrested.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “The Council is not into torture, though
. I’ll get you another room. And some shoes that won’t stretch your gastrocnemius like a rubber band.”

  Julie had no idea what that was, and she didn’t care. She ran to Linda and gave her a big hug. She even got teary at the scent of dead cow. “I’m so glad to see you!”

  Linda lifted Julie off her feet to set her an arm’s length away. “Going a bit squirrely, I see.”

  Julie grinned, happy to see a familiar face or any face for that matter. She sat on the edge of the bed because her ankles were a little wobbly. “Tell me what’s going on. Where’s Harry? How is he doing? Is he okay?”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t seen the Balance.”

  “How do I post bail?” She’d hunt him down herself.

  Linda regarded her with pity. “There’s no bail, mate. You’re here until the next Judgment Day. Of course, they’re not really days. Judgment Day can last a long as a month, depending on the quarterly caseload. Don’t know for sure when you’ll be seen.”

  “What!” Julie jumped up. “I can’t stay here for weeks!”

  Linda shrugged. “Should have thought about that before you made a deal with a demon in front of half the Walkers and Dancers in America.”

  Julie sighed. “Go away, Linda, and bring me Harry.”

  “The Balance won’t meet with a sand bag.”

  “Excuse me?” Why on earth couldn’t Linda speak plain English?

  “A sand bag. You’re extra weight, throwing off the balance of the Triad.”

  “Am not.” Julie automatically sucked in her stomach.

  “You’re a sand bag until proven ballast.”

  “Where’s Bas?” No point in discussing this.

  “He’s off getting women for Harrison to sleep with so the curse can be broken.”

  “He’s what?” Sharp prickles danced along her skin and settled in her chest. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Then she took a deep, cleansing breath and opened her eyes. Julie still wanted to shake Harrison, Bas and any woman in their vicinity. “Why did you come here, Linda? Are you trying to cheer me up?”