Dancing With The Devil, Witches Anonymous Step 5

by Evans, Misty

  The Mark came to life.

  Chapter Three – The Monster Ball

  The shop was chaos. A hole that matched the one in my apartment was burned into the floor, a tall column of smoke connecting it to my living room. The smoke swirled and churned and I could have sworn I saw skulls and demonic faces inside it. The entire place smelled familiar. Fire. Brimstone. Sulfur. Yep, it smelled like Hell.

  A three-headed demon with a Hulk-like body and a long reptilian tail crouched over a man with long copper-colored hair. The man was muscular and swinging a sword. The sword’s blade glowed with a bright light, highlighting his hair until it, too, seemed to glow.

  The demon bellowed and took a swing at him. In response, he dodged out of the demon’s reach and parried. The blade speared the demon’s thigh, causing him to bellow again loud enough to rattle the napkin dispensers on the tables.

  There were other monsters. Some looked human, but the dozen or so I counted were far from it.

  “Mikayla. Where are you?”

  “Over here!”

  Night had fallen and she’d drawn the blinds over the plate glass windows, so at least Eden’s residents were missing the Rocky Mountain Demon Picture Show. As I scooted around overturned chairs and broken glass to find her, a yellow-eyed demon attacked me, his slimy hands—all six of them—grabbing parts of my body he had no right to.

  I yelped, much like Mikayla had done, and jumped out of his way. “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

  Even though he was smaller than the three-headed Hulk, he towered over me, baring his teeth in a disgusting grin. Air puffed from his open mouth, blowing rotten-smelling breath in my face. My magic hissed like I’d poked it with a branding iron. Words came out of the demon’s mouth, but either he was drunk or speaking a foreign language because they made no sense.

  My magic, though, responded as if it did understand him and the first lines of a hex came to me.

  Take this beast from Hell’s depths untamed.

  Trap it and return it from whence it…

  No. I shut down the hex. Even though magic came easy, I’d been in stickier situations and not relied on it. That was the whole point of Witches Anonymous. It was easy to be good when things were happy and peaceful. The true tests came when things got ugly. Like now at the monster ball.

  Resolved to take care of the demon without compromising my oath, I wiggled my fingers at him. I didn’t need magic to fight this guy. God would do it for me.

  Opening his mouth wide, he lunged, ready to have me for a late night snack. My forehead burned, the Mark flashed and…

  Bam. Mr. Slimy Hands turned to ash at my feet.

  Satisfaction surged in my chest. I’d killed a demon without using magic. Again. That made three for four on the demon-killing score sheet I’d kept since my trip to Hell. Not too bad.

  I whirled around to see what else wanted a piece of me, hoping against hope Lucifer might be in the mix. No Luc, but the Mark’s lethal light had gotten everyone’s attention. All fighting stopped, every eye in the place, human and demon, landing on me.

  Mikayla stood up from behind the counter and let out a whoop. The man fighting the big demon grinned and gave me a nod as if he approved.

  His eyes. I sucked in my breath. They were the same ice blue color as mine.

  Until my trip to Hell, I’d had brown eyes. In the pit, they’d changed. Gabriel said it was because I fought Lilith and won. Cephiel believed their color was tied to the Mark of Cain. Either way, I constantly startled myself in the mirror when I saw them. They were scary pale and unnatural looking and colored contacts had become my new best friend. You can’t run a successful business if you scare off the clientele. Plus, freaky eyes unnerve even your closest friends. The only person they didn’t seem to bother was Luc.

  The three-headed demon made a loud, long screeching noise and shifted his reptilian tail to knock the man off his feet. This seemed to be the signal to resume fighting. The man jumped the tail and sunk his sword into the base of the demon’s spine.

  Not bad. While part of me was still freaking out that there were demons inside my shop, the other part was riding high on adrenaline. “Who’s next?” I called to the milling crowd of freaks. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  As the next demon attacked, a human-looking man jumped the counter and tackled Mikayla. Dispatching three more demons to dust as I headed for her, I sprinted around tables and jumped the counter myself.

  Mikayla lay on the floor, the man on top of her. His face was buried in her neck and her wide eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling.

  “Get off,” I yelled, grabbing him by his ratty T-shirt and trying to drag him backwards.

  He was attached to her like a leach. When I lifted him, she came with him.

  Vampire, my magic said, wiggling inside my chest.

  Really? A vampire? I knew they existed, but I’d never seen one.

  Didn’t matter. Vamp or demon, I kicked, pommeled, and pulled his hair. Anything to get him away from Mikayla. None of it worked.

  If I could just get him to attack me instead…

  A giant crash cut across the other sounds of fighting. The noise distinctive of splintering glass. I looked up, and there was my front window…gone.

  The three-headed demon lay half in, half out of my shop, the man with the sword standing over him and breathing hard. Or should I say, there laid the demon’s two halves. The man and his sword had apparently cut the monster right down the center.

  Cold, winter air whooshed in from outside as black goo oozed from the demon’s open wounds. Shards of glass lay everywhere, but the bulk of glass had gone outside onto the snowy sidewalk. Unfortunately, the white snow melted fast under the black demon blood. But it was ten o’clock on a winter night in a small Illinois town. There was no one around to see the giant demon with three heads and a lizard’s tail decorating the shop and sidewalk.

  Pissed that my front window was gone and my employee was being mauled by a vampire, I grabbed a large, heavy-duty stainless steel ice cream scoop and whacked the vamp on the back of the head. The whack was hard enough to break his hold on Mikayla and his head shot around, blood covering his lips and chin as he glared at me. His eyes were red.

  Not good.

  I hit him again, as much out of fear as protection. The force of the hit sent him crashing into my new gelato cooler.

  Since joining Witches Anonymous and suppressing my magic, I’ve had increased strength, especially under stress. The vampire shook his head and blinked a couple of times before he stood on wobbly legs and made a break for it. He ran past the man with the sword, jumped the halved giant demon, and disappeared into the night.

  The last remaining demons and another vampire took that as their cue to exit stage left. Giving me a wide berth, some ran up walls, others jumped over tables and a couple spread their wings as they headed for the open window. I tried to grab a few as they scooted by, as did sword guy, but they were too fast for me. He managed to take down three, slicing them in neat pieces, but the others escaped.

  Mikayla coughed and gingerly touched her neck. I helped her sit up. Her voice came out raspy. “Who was that guy? The one that bit me?”

  The man with the sword strolled over. He wore a white tunic that was now splattered with the thick, inky demon blood. A gold belt encircled his waist and the tunic showed off his muscled arms and thighs. His sword was no longer glowing, but his skin and hair were. “Latimer. An ancient vampire. Yours is the first blood he’s had in a couple hundred years.”

  Mikayla’s mouth dropped open. Even though I’d never seen a vampire before, my magic had called it right.

  That satisfaction was short lived when the man added, “He’ll be back for more.”

  Mikayla’s eyes went wide and she pinned me with a questioning gaze.

  Like I had an answer? I might have been to Hell, but this was new territory even for me.

  “Why?” I asked the sword-wielding man as I helped her to her feet and gu
ided her to a chair. Slime dripped off my hands and I snagged a towel from behind the counter. I handed her a second towel for the blood dripping down her neck. “How did this happen?”

  Sword guy ran a hand through his long locks. Angel, my magic said. His ice-blue eyes met mine as if he’d heard my mental pronouncement. A sense of foreboding, dark and ominous, made me shiver. “The first meal after two hundred years will be the sweetest he’s ever had. Nothing and no one will compare to our fair Mikayla here. He’ll be back for her.”

  Just what I needed. Another angel in my hair and a vampire stalking my friend. Not to mention demons running amok in town.

  I fingered the ice cream scoop, a renewed sense of justice taking hold. “Let him come. I’ll turn him to dust like the others.”

  The three of us looked out over my destroyed shop and the piles of ashes on the floor. The man righted a stool and set it next to the counter. Swinging a leg over it, he used napkins to wipe spatters of demon blood from his face. “There will be more. Many more.”

  Great. “More demons? More vampires? What?”

  He examined his sword, picked up the towel with Mikayla’s blood on it and wiped the blade clean. “You opened the gate to purgatory.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Using the sword, he pointed at the smoke. “Purgatory. The first level of Hell.” He waved the sword at the halved demon in the window and the dust heaps. “That’s where all these things came from.”

  Mikayla touched her neck again. “I thought purgatory was a punishment for humans.”

  “Purgatory is for anyone in need of redemption. And the demons living there dole out the punishment.”

  Tossing the towel on the counter, I blew out a sigh. I knew better than to ask, but did so anyway. “And where exactly did you come from?”

  His eyes met mine, a raw, aching hunger darkening them. “Let’s just say Latimer’s not the only one who hasn’t eaten in a while.”

  Chapter Four – Spear or Spike

  He was an angel, I was sure of it. But one that had crawled out of purgatory? Weird, but I was used to weird. And that might explain the freaky eyes.

  “You’re not a vampire.” I pointed at the sword. “And that’s no ordinary sword.”

  He touched a finger to his nose, signifying I’d hit the bull’s eye. “Give the lady a prize.”

  “Fallen angel?”

  His eyes glittered with mischief. “I heard you were quick.”

  “You heard? Where, on the purgatory grapevine?”

  “I’m tapped in, so to speak.” He drummed his temple with a long, slender finger. “With Heaven and Hell. You were Lucifer’s soul broker. The angels and the demons discuss you frequently. Even more than Britney.”

  “Britney?”

  “Spears? Surely you’ve heard of her.” He winked one of his freaky eyes. “You’re much more popular than she is down below, in case you were wondering.”

  Riiight. And the three-headed demon that had destroyed my shop’s plate glass window, thanks to Mr. Tapped In, was a figment of my imagination. “Why is an angel in purgatory?”

  “I fought beside Lucifer in the Great War.”

  “The Great War?”

  “Against God. As you know, we lost. Bummer that…” He paused for a moment, looking off into the distance but seeming to see something besides the walls and chaos of my shop. “My sentence for serving Lucifer was to spend eternity in purgatory until I redeem myself.”

  He’d fought on Luc’s side. Had to give him points for that.

  Didn’t mean I trusted him. “Keep being useful to me with these demons and I won’t send you back there.”

  He smirked, apparently doubting my abilities.

  Let him doubt. When the time came, I’d wipe that smirk off his face. “What’s your name?”

  “Xavier in Heaven. Zayfeer in Hell.”

  God really needed a new baby name book. “Zayfeer?”

  “Means ‘west wind’. Ever hear the expression ‘an ill wind is blowing’?”

  “You’re the ill wind?” At his look of satisfaction, a new thought dawned. An ill wind had definitely blown in a few minutes ago. “Did you have anything to do with me killing Lucifer?”

  Mikayla gasped. “You killed him?”

  Zayfeer’s gaze cut left to the smoke column, back to me. “The Mark sent Lucifer back to Hell.”

  “He’s still alive?”

  “Not on Earth, but yes, he’s very much alive.” Z stared at the sigil under my bangs. “You…er, rather, the Mark…created a hole in the gates of the underworld.”

  As if to emphasize his point, a new demon crawled out of the smoking pit. This one had a high, flat forehead and spikes down his arms and legs. Lovely. “And how do I close that hole?”

  “You can’t. Only Lucifer can reseal the opening once it’s broken.”

  I hate it when anyone tells me I can’t do something. “I don’t know anything about the gates of the underworld, but I do know a thing or two about Hell and I’ll find a way to seal the hole. I also know you must have some kind of magic, Zayfeer or Xavier or whoever you are, so get off your butt and clean up the mess you made over by the window.” The new demon was eying Mikayla. He licked his lips and I made a face. “I’ll deal with this one.”

  Zayfeer grinned as if this was the best time he’d had in a while. Probably was. He jumped up from the stool and headed for the slain demon in the window, keeping an eye on the latest spike-addled addition to our party.

  “Yo, Spike,” I called to the new demon. He didn’t take his eyes off Mikayla and she rose from the chair in slow motion and slid behind me. I grabbed the heavy-duty ice cream scoop I’d used on Latimer and threw it at the demon’s face.

  It connected, smacking him in the nose and bouncing off. His gaze swung to mine and he let go a battle cry that raised the hair on my arms. His spikes stood at attention, their gnarly-looking barbed ends quivering from the sound. I couldn’t help it, I took a small step backwards as green liquid oozed from those ends.

  Seeing my hesitation, he laughed. A knowing laugh. Low and guttural. Just the kind to piss me off. I wasn’t exactly having a good day here.

  Squaring my shoulders, I started forward, giving him a wicked smile. Bring it on, ugly.

  He didn’t like my renewed courage, and without further warning, he launched himself at me, ready to make me regret it.

  Mikayla screamed and grabbed my shirt, yanking me backwards. There was nowhere to go since the sinks were behind us, but I knew the Mark would kick in and take Spike down before his barbs touched me. Still, I had to steel my nerves not to turn tail and run.

  He flew through the air and Mikayla and I both reared back. Spikes, long and thick, flashed in front of my eyes. Green poison dripped from the ends.

  And then the Mark flashed its horrendously bright light and Spikey went bye-bye.

  Mikayla and I staggered to the side, away from the sizzling green ash pile at our feet. The shop was sufficiently cold enough, our short, choppy breaths made tiny clouds in front of our faces.

  I needed to close that hole and the opening the broken window created. Needed to clean up all the ash piles. Needed to hunt down Latimer and his pit buddies and put them back in their pen.

  But all I wanted to do was find Lucifer and make sure he was all right.

  I’d been to Hell. No biggie. Not my favorite place to visit, but I could handle it if I had to. How would I find Lucifer, though? And couldn’t he get back on his own? Surely he had more magic and power than the three of us in my shop combined.

  Inching over to the smoke column, I watched the swirling mass. Jumping into purgatory would be reckless and foolish, and while I was used to being both, I had no way of knowing if I could find my way out of purgatory and to whatever level of Hell Lucifer was on.

  And I sure didn’t want to run into Lilith. Blech.

  Mikayla went to the storage room and came back with a broom and dust pan. Zayfeer stood over the body of the demon he’d slain w
ith his sword raised over his head. The sword glowed as he chanted words too softly for me to hear. As Zayfeer finished the chant, he slammed the sword into the demon’s chest. A bright light, much like the Mark’s but with a blue tint, zigzagged from the sword into the massive body. Fissures appeared all over the demon’s scaly skin, the halves of his body splintering into tiny pieces. Another flash, this one smaller, and the demon disappeared.

  Zayfeer looked at me with that smug grin and spread his hands in a what do you think gesture.

  The black goo faded, but the glass bits remained. I figured Z could put his very nice muscles to good use cleaning those up. Then he could help me navigate purgatory.

  I gave him a thumbs-up even though my heart wasn’t in it. “Grab that dust pan from Mikayla and get to work on the broken glass. I’ve got some plywood around back that was left over from my apartment remodel. I’ll get it and we can board up the window.”

  “Oh, no need.” He pointed the tip of the sword at a large shard of glass, barely touching it. The sword once again sprang to life with its incandescent glow. The glow spread to the glass and both turned yellow, then orange, seeming to meld together. Zayfeer raised the sword with the glass stuck on the end and faced the open window. He poked at the center of the space and the glass stayed put.

  Looking over his shoulder, he gave me another self-satisfied smile. Behind him, my guardian angel Cephiel appeared on the sidewalk, the lapels of his wool trench coat turned up around his neck and a knit hat pulled securely over his head. He stared at the floating fragment of glass, brows crashing down, before shifting his attention to Zayfeer and then farther into the shop to me. “What in all that’s holy is going on here?”

  “Hey, Ceph,” Z said. He poked another large piece of glass and the sword glowed. He lifted the glass to the opening and I heard a snapping sound as the piece locked into place. “Long time no see.”