Corpse Curses

by Jen Ponce

  I tucked it into the back of my pants and pulled my shirt over the top. I broke the crystals on the rest of the items, but no demons appeared, which meant I now knew how to identify the ‘live’ ones, so to speak. Slowly but surely I was figuring things out and I’d learn more, one murder victim at a time.

  I fit the lid back onto the box and carried it to work with me, keeping a hand over the Conventus mark so I wouldn’t end up with a visit by a Keeper.

  Poppy was chatting with a customer, and when she was done, she raised her eyebrows at me. “That is a gigantic hickey.”

  I slapped my hand on my neck. How could I have forgotten? Holy Hell, I’d spent all that time talking to my daddy with a damned hickey on my neck. No wonder he looked sorta uncomfortable the whole time we were talking.

  “Dish, Korri,” she said, leaning a hip on the counter, her eyes dancing. She’d gotten her hair done. Yesterday, it had been in braids. Today it was loose and natural, her tight curls floating around her head.

  “You would not believe it if I told you,” I said, trying to figure out how I’d explain fucking a hellhound shifter. I fucked a demon. A demon who had been enslaved longer than I had been alive. It got weirder and weirder the more I tossed it around in my head.

  “Try me.”

  Poppy had told me her wild sex stories. Surely I could reciprocate. I’d probably top every strange thing she’d done with this one. Problem was, this wasn’t the place to fill her in on my early morning perv-fest. “I’ll tell you later. Promise,” I said when I saw the protest in her eyes. “It’s not teatime.”

  Her face grew serious at that. The phrase was our code for, ‘We can’t risk talking here where a magus could overhear us.’ It meant it had something to do with our quest, and so she didn’t pry, just hugged me and whispered, “Are you safe?”

  “Probably not.” I let her see my grin. “Thank Hell.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Later bitch. Dish everything.”

  “Will do.” I watched her sass her way out and then I went back to mangling the lavender for the rest of my shift, wondering what I’d learn in the book still tucked in my pants, while hoping the hellhound would return for another round of energetic boffing.

  I didn’t even know his name.

  When I got off work, I hauled the box home, hiding it under my bed before going to the kitchen where Poppy had a skillet of sausage, peppers, and rice cooking. “That smells amazing.”

  “Hickey. Talk. Now.”

  I held up a finger and pulled the book out of my pants. She raised a brow when I put it on the counter.

  “You did not just pull a book out of your pants and put it by the food.”

  “It’s not like it was in my ass crack, Poppy.” I held it up, spine toward her and let her read.

  She shook her head, looking confused. “What the fuck? Do you want to go to prison?”

  I tugged the medallion out of my pocket and put it on the counter too. “This is similar to the one Oscar King had.”

  “The one that let you toss a big ass trash container across an alley? I wasn’t positive. Hard to tell details on grainy security cam footage.”

  “The one and the same. It drank my blood,” I said, eying the remains of the crystal on the counter.

  “The crystal … drank … blood?” she asked, sounding as if she thought me a little bit nuts.

  Joke was on her. I was a lot nuts. But not about this. “Yeah. Gobbled it right up like a vampire. It sucked up his, sucked up mine.”

  “You didn’t. You did not feed the blood-drinking weirdo stone your blood.”

  “So anyway,” I said, ignoring her, “the hellhound followed me home and when he got here, he shifted into witch form. Told me that he’d been trapped in that stone for over two centuries.”

  Poppy stood there, staring, not quite understanding what I meant. At least, not yet.

  “The Conventus doesn’t have any special ability beyond what you and I can do. They’re using demons to power themselves up.”

  She looked so gob smacked, I almost laughed. When she could finally remember what words were and how to use them, she had to pause to get the food dished out. Then she sat next to me, staring and staring. “But they have all those laws outlawing demonology. They kill those possessed.”

  I speared a sausage. “Exactly. They control the narrative. They control the magic, the demons, and so they have all the power.”

  “Holy fucking shitballs, Korri. This is huge. This is so huge. Oh, holy Hell. We have to take this to the newspaper, to the TV stations, we have to put them on blast.”

  I hated to pop her enthusiasm bubble. “They’d kill us and bury it. We can’t risk trying to expose them yet. We don’t have enough proof and we don’t have enough power. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die. And you know as well as I do just how far these people will go to keep their secrets.”

  Her face was solemn, knowing all too well the lengths they would go. Oh yeah, Poppy knew. In a quiet voice, she asked, “So what do we do?”

  “Keep killing them off, one by one. Only now I know to break the crystal and release the demon. And maybe, just maybe, the demons will help us kill more.”

  “How?”

  I shrugged. “We ask them.”

  She scoffed. “We ask … demons?”

  I shrugged.

  “What if we did what summoners are rumored to do? Trap them in a circle, force them to help us.”

  I shook my head. “Hell no. We aren’t doing anything like the Lodge. They summon and trap them. I’m not doing that.”

  “This is dangerous, Korri. Demons are dangerous. There is a fuckton of stories about them possessing people, ripping out hearts, slashing skin. I mean, I know the magi are dicks, but those things are true.”

  “No,” I said, glad I hadn’t told her about the boy. “I’ll bet those stories are embellished or even outright lies.” The boy I’d helped today, he’d been hurt. I should have asked the demon why he’d hurt him, who had enslaved him, all those things that would be helpful to know now. “Shit,” I muttered.

  “I don’t like it. It’s a big risk. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

  “You won’t.” I covered her hand with mine and squeezed. “Let’s eat before this gets cold.”

  She popped a bite into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “You never did tell me about that hickey.”

  I swallowed a pepper wrong and started coughing up a lung. When my eyes finally stopped watering and I could speak again, I croaked, “About that.”

  She blinked. “Holy Hell, Korri. Do not tell me you fucked a demon. How do you even fuck a demon? That shape-shifting demon? Seriously?”

  “He had a nice cock,” I said. “It was pretty and big, and I hadn’t seen one in a while, okay?”

  “What even … I don’t … geez. Seriously?” she said again.

  I ignored her and popped a forkful of sausage and pepper into my mouth, chewing while I glared at her.

  Finally, she held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I was just … startled.”

  I swallowed. “And you can’t say one hundred percent that you’d turn down the cock I saw. You can’t even say fifty percent. You’re a little slut too.”

  “I’m not slutty for demons. I prefer my boyfriends to have witch sausage.”

  “If you saw what I saw …” I said in a singsong. “Anyway, he left before I woke up and I don’t know if he’ll come back. So. It’s probably a moot point.”

  She grunted and we ate the rest of our food in silence. When we were done, I stretched, feeling all full and satisfied—kind of like early this morning—and I wasn’t at all tired, considering I’d been up most of the night. “So, let’s talk about the next asshole on our kill list.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t say that out loud. What if someone is listening at the door?”

  “Who’s next on our kill list, Poppy?” I shouted. At normal volume, I said, “See? No one cares.”

  “Don’t eve
n with me, Korri Jean Marchand Kronos.”

  I scoffed and put my plate in the sink. “Don’t use my full name like you’re my mama, Poppy Dear.”

  “I should have never told you my middle name.”

  “Nope.” I kissed her on the cheek, then went to the couch where I plopped down and sprawled out. “Tell me more about Harriet Lysander.”

  She rattled around in the kitchen a bit before joining me in the living room. She kept the kill list hidden, moving it every so often to make sure it stayed that way. She opened the journal now, using the pen attached by a ribbon to cross out Oscar King’s name. “Age thirty-two. Single. Achieved tier two status three years ago.”

  The darkness inside me raised its head, interested, but still sated from my dalliance this morning. “A Keeper of the Higher Order.” Which meant she might have a demon trapped in crystal hanging about her neck. “I’ll start stalking her this afternoon.”

  “You need sleep.”

  “I need death. I missed Oscar’s spirit because I had a hellhound perched on my chest. Next time, I’ll know better than to break the crystal before Harriet’s dead. It’ll be all right.”

  “Rest and then stalk. She’s not going anywhere.”

  But I didn’t want to rest. Truth be told, I felt good. Really good. Good enough to run a mile and still have energy left over to mow the lawn and wash the windows. “I’m stalking this afternoon. This bitch needs to die.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You mean you want to break another medallion and hope to get along super great with the next demon that pops up.”

  “Yes, I do. These demons have been with the Conventus members throughout generations. That means they know all their dirty secrets.”

  I saw the gears spinning as she thought it through. “You think you can get enough dirt on them to bring them down?”

  “I think the demons are our ace up our sleeve. We’re killing magi anyway, right? That was our pact. Well. Why not set the demons free and pick their brains?”

  “Because they could kill you.”

  “So could a bear or a hippo. I can’t live my life afraid of those things.”

  “Because those things aren’t a real and present danger to you. The demons are.”

  “The jury is out on that one.” I leaned in and hugged her tight, then rose from the couch. “I’m still going, with your blessing or without it, but I hope you can see why I have to do this.” It wasn’t just for her, though that was a lot of it. It was also for my mama and daddy, who lived their lives in poverty after Grandmother kicked them out the night Grandpa died. She’d made sure my parents had trouble finding or keeping jobs and she continually sent Keepers to watch our apartment, bother my daddy, all in the hopes that she’d make life so miserable for my mama that she’d beg my grandmother for forgiveness.

  It didn’t happen. My parents had the kind of love you can’t fuck with, the kind that was enduring. My grandmother never did understand that, still didn’t.

  “Only stalk then, no killing. You don’t want to fuck it up and get caught.” Poppy went to her room and came back carrying a runestone plug. “I finally finished it. It’ll transmit the same way the earbud did, but it’s all stylish and big enough to put a ‘look away’ and ‘hide me’ rune in it.”

  “Sweet. Thank you.” It was a beautiful jade green with a tiny carved scorpion in the middle that hid the runes. I kissed her cheek. “You’re the best bestie in the whole world.”

  She pursed her lips. “Mmhmm. No killing.”

  I crossed my heart and tried to look sincere when I said, “I’ll be good. No killing. Not this afternoon.” Unless the opportunity presented itself, of course, but she didn’t need to know that, right?

  8

  Weaponed up and dressed conservatively—lame—I took a cab to the Old Market District near Conventud Academy. My hair was tucked into a plain brown wig, I had a contact in to hide my green eye, the hickey was covered in heavy-duty makeup, and, except for the plug, I looked like everyone else around me. I even had my mother’s Lodge pin stuck to the lapel of my jacket. Most people who lived and worked in this area wore them. The few that didn’t were either witches having to work in the area or tourists from one of the few countries the Lodge hadn’t invaded.

  They didn’t forcibly insert themselves into other countries; they just warped one mind at a time, offering power, offering riches, demonizing the witches, whispering rumors and lies into magi ears until they turned on their witch friends.

  I sat at a table with a ridiculously expensive coffee cupped in my hands and watched my quarry flirt with her coworker the next table over. Harriet was a small woman with frizzy brown hair and an overbite. She laugh-snorted a lot which could have been endearing if I hadn’t known what a stone-cold cunt she was.

  As it was, I really wanted to dump my coffee over her head and stab her in the tit with a spork.

  “She looks like a real douche, doesn’t she?” Poppy said in my ear, making me jump. I’d forgotten about her, she’d been so quiet.

  Before I could answer, a shadow fell over me and a voice said, “Mind if I sit here?”

  I looked up to see a tall, slender Lodge guy standing over me, his medallion glinting in the afternoon sun. His smile was a rich guy’s perfect, his hair a rich guy’s cut. His suit probably cost more than all the shit in my apartment combined twice over and there were at least four open, empty tables he could have sat at. And I knew him. Damn it. Adam fucking Windhaven. His father was Uriah Windhaven, Grand High Theurge of Lodge 1, aka the muckiest of all the muckity mucks.

  “Shit,” Poppy breathed.

  Shit was right. “Sure,” I said, shrugging, because what else would a nobody magus say to Adam Windhaven but sure?

  “Thanks.” His grin was assured, his movements easy. He was confident about who he was. Being rich and having a shit-ton of power did that for a guy. “Adam Windhaven.”

  As if I wouldn’t know who he was, the ass. I smiled and took his hand, furiously thinking up a name. “Tina. Renae. Allison.” Crap on toast, what was my problem? “Peters,” I finished lamely.

  “Seriously? We need to work on your improv skills.”

  Shut up, I thought at her, and wished there was a rune to help me think at Poppy. Loudly. Forcefully.

  His perfectly groomed eyebrows didn’t so much as twitch in surprise. “Nice to meet you, Tina.”

  “I go by Renae,” I said, just to be perverse.

  He nodded respectfully and sipped at his coffee. Although he wasn’t terrible to look at, he was blocking my view of Harriet and I didn’t want to sit and make small talk with him. I was on a job, damn it.

  I could totally picture Poppy laughing her ass off back in the apartment though. My eyes dropped to his medallion, to the green crystal there. When I was seventeen, he hadn’t had a medallion. Hadn’t been anything but a student at the Conventud Academy and an infrequent visitor at my grandmother’s home. Once I’d turned eighteen, I’d moved to Hell’s Mudroom and had avoided as many of Grandmother’s parties I could without completely alienating the woman. That didn’t mean I hadn’t kept tabs on the magi who moved in Grandmother’s circles. Like Adam, for instance, who’d had a rather quick rise to the top. Not surprising, considering who his father was, though I’d guess if I asked Adam about it, he would say he got there through his own hard work and dedication.

  Right. More like daddy’s money and influence, but whatevs.

  “What brings you to the Old Market District … Renae?”

  Did I imagine the pause, or did he suspect I wasn’t who I said I was? I mean, I hadn’t exactly been subtle in my lying, but maybe I was just one of those women who didn’t like given out their real names to perfect strangers. “Coffee,” I said, taking a sip. It was good. I wasn’t sure if it was as good as the price they charged for it, but it was pretty damn close. “You?”

  “I work at the Academy.”

  “I thought you ran it,” I said before I could stop my runaway mouth.

 
He shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal, but I saw the gleam of pleasure in his eyes that I’d recognized him. Adam was currently the Grand High Exorcist of Lodge 2—as close to the top as he could get as young as he was. Now I wondered exactly what that job entailed since I knew these bastards dabbled in demons. Hell, the Grand High Exorcist had a demon hanging around his neck. What would the world think of that?

  I leaned my chin on my hand and tried hard to look interested as I asked, “So, what exactly does the Grand High Exorcist do? I mean, there aren’t exactly witches running around consorting with demons like in the old stories.” He was good looking in a well-manicured type way, but he was too pretty for me. Always had been. I figured him for the kind of guy who would insist on showering right after sex and who wouldn’t go down on a woman without making her shave her pussy bald first.

  Hell, I’d bet he wouldn’t go down on a woman period.

  “Ah, those old stories. You’d be surprised how often I deal with demons. Summoning them is outlawed, but greedy people do foolish things to gain a bit of power.”

  Said the guy who was born into a wealthy family and always had power. Said the guy who had a fucking demon hanging around his fucking neck. The hypocritical bastard. “How do people even figure that out? The demon summoning thing. I thought it was really complicated.”

  “Internet. And summoning demons isn’t outlawed everywhere. Half the southern continent allows summoners to do their nasty work.”

  “Really?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know. As if I didn’t know that the Lodge was working hard to push laws in other countries to ban the practice. Didn’t want word getting out, I would guess. “Goodness, that’s terrible.” Although I tried to hide it, the sarcasm came through and his eyes narrowed slightly. Fuck. I batted my eyelashes and tried to look the tiniest bit worried. “Don’t you ever worry the demons will get loose and attack you?”