Kirby shrugged. “I can try. This isn’t a spell I’ve ever seen before. Trust me; if the elves knew how to strip a demon of his physical form and stuff him into a container, they would have done it. I’ll do my best, but we’ll need to set up serious protection. I can tell by the energy signature on the bottle that this guy is bad news, although the bottle is sealed.”
“What do you mean sealed?” Asta ran a finger along the side of the bottle. “Carter — the owner — said he’d opened it.”
“Not sealed like that. It’s like a prison wall — I can’t reach him, can’t communicate with him. All I can do is try to smash through and give him an opening to get out. And given he’s been trapped for hundreds of years, I’d really want him to come out into a warded banishing circle, if you know what I mean.”
Dar did. He’d be pissed as all fuck if he’d been stuck in there for that long, waiting for someone with enough balls to complete the contract. Didn’t matter whether this guy was an ancient or a Low, he was going to come out fighting. “So what do you need?”
Wyatt had remained at the convention to keep an eye of Phelps, but Dar could run out and gather supplies while Asta stood guard.
“Got it all here.” Kirby dumped a huge bag on the floor with a thump. Inside was a huge book, various bottles, several pieces of chalk, a box of salt, and a wand.
“Can we help?” Asta picked up one of the pieces of chalk.
“Probably not. I’ll need to charge the runes and the circle as I draw them, in order to ensure optimal containment. Best to do that myself. There is one thing you can do for me, though.”
“Name it,” Asta replied. She’d been tense and sad since this morning, and Dar wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. Last night had been amazing, and this morning he’d felt the connection with her, like electricity every time she was near. Now . . . now she was distant and brittle.
“Deep-dish pizza. Lou Malnati’s on South State Street, with sausage and mushrooms.”
“Oh, I’ve been dying to try that. Deep dish, it is.” Asta gave a forced smile and headed out.
Dar watched while the mage drew intricate patterns around the bottle. It was a long and boring ordeal. Even after Asta had returned with pizza and beer, Kirby continued his task. Finally satisfied, he sat and consumed three room-temperature slices and two bottles of beer before placing his hands, palms down, on the table. “We ready to do this?”
“We?” Dar raised his eyebrows, wondering what part he and Asta could possibly play in this.
Kirby’s face turned serious. “We. This thing gets out of the circle, I’m going to need all the help I can get. I got a reading on the energy signature, and I’m gonna say that I’m nervous. I want to identify the demon before I release him if we have time. It’s your call.”
Dar turned to Asta, his eyes drawn to her mouth as she gnawed her lower lip. “Identify him. Or her. I want to know what I’m up against if I need to go all ninja on one of my brethren.”
“Him. At least he was in a male form when he got stuck in the bottle.” Kirby chugged down the rest of his beer then went for his book. “I’m going to do a quick spell to reveal his names then see if I have any records on him.”
The next half hour was as exciting as watching the Hallmark channel. Dar paced, then stared with glazed eyes before he gave up and retreated to the newly stocked mini bar. The angel seemed to have more endurance, watching the mage intently and flipping through his spell book with interest.
“Did you know they could control time within certain parameters? They haven’t quite realized it yet, but it’s right here. How precocious of them!”
Dar handed her a mini of gin and watched her sip it. “Juniper. Very nice. Look at this fertility ritual. Can you imagine the garden? True, it only works on Rosa genus, Rosaceae family, but what an amazing spell.”
“I’m more of a nightshade guy myself.”
Kirby was frantically writing pages of sigils. Dar’s heart sank. Young demons only had a handful of names — usually less than ten. Ancients could have hundreds of names and titles. The longer the mage wrote, the more shit they were in.
“I need more booze.” Dar abandoned the mini fridge for his personal stash, mixing juice, vodka, lime, and Grand Marnier in the ice bucket then straining it into two glasses.
“Here,” he handed one to Asta. “We could probably use this. He could probably use it too, but I don’t want his concentration compromised.”
The angel took the drink and sipped it, handing over the book as Kirby left his position by the circle. The mage looked drained, pale, and exhausted as he took the grimoire with shaking hands.
“This isn’t going to be good.” Kirby took the book and flipped it toward an end section. “Not good. Not good at all.”
“Here he is. His common name is Rubeus. He’s a warmonger, and he’s old. Not an ancient, but I’m still not happy about releasing a demon of this age.”
Dar let out a breath that seemed to drain every bit of air from his lungs. “Fuck, that’s more than not good.”
Asta shook her head, frowning. “Warmonger doesn’t sound particularly appealing, but what do you mean by old? How many billions of years old is this guy?”
Kirby looked up in astonishment. “Billions? What demon is billions of years old? This guy is maybe thirty or forty thousand, but not a billion.”
The angel smiled, slumping in relief. “That, I can handle. I’m two-and-a-half million. Anything over fifty thousand is a bit much, but under that, I’m good to go.”
Kirby shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Well, I’m not especially accurate on anything over ten thousand.”
Asta set her jaw and tilted her chin at the mage. “I’m ready.”
Kirby walked toward the circle, and they all tensed as he began chanting. The runes lit up with golden light, and Dar felt the spark of magic in the air. The colors in the bottle swirled around, the stopper rattling. Time seemed to halt then rush forward as the room tilted. Blur, the scream of metal on glass, a vacuum pulling all the air from the room. With a sonic boom, the stopper flew free from the bottle, and the glass became clear. A billow of blue and gold poured from the container, racing around the confines of the circle before exploding into a flare of heat and light.
Asta frowned, and Dar felt a bit out of the loop. “What the fuck happened to him? Did he go back to Hel? Was he unable to form a physical body and disbursed into the universe?”
“He’s . . . he’s not here.”
Dar resisted the urge to slug the mage in the face. “Yes, I can see he’s not here. Where the fuck is he?”
“I don’t know. He isn’t here. He wasn’t there. The only thing in the bottle was residual energy — about six centuries of residual energy. I released it and it dissipated. But I don’t know where the demon is. The bottle’s empty.”
Fuck. His eyes met Asta’s. “If the demon’s not in there, that means his contract’s been served.”
The angel averted her eyes and looked at the empty bottle. “I spoke with Carter today. He desperately wanted the bottle back. If he’d cashed in his third wish and completed the contract, then why would he want the bottle back? Why bother?”
Kirby lifted one shoulder. “Memories? Nostalgia? Old family antique?”
No, it wasn’t that at all. Dar’s mind raced as he looked at the glass, oddly clear after being a swirl of purple and gray for hundreds of years. “Asta, have you sensed a demon in the City within the last twenty-four hours?”
“No. None besides you.”
Dar felt relief wash through him. “So Phelps made his wish, banished the demon, and now only wants his grandmother’s bottle back. We’re good. Case closed, problem solved.”
Her eyes met his, brown lit with sparks of gold. “Or he was hoping to guilt me into giving it back so we wouldn’t find out the bottle was empty.” The angel’s eyes narrowed. “But he doesn’t know how to banish. I’m sure of that. Where’s the genie if it’s not here? Why haven’t I sense
d it, and why hasn’t it started a killing rampage?”
“See? Those questions mean we no longer have a problem. Either Phelps managed to find a real banishing ritual online, or he had someone lined up to do it for him.”
While they argued, Kirby gathered his supplies, putting them into his backpack. “Do you need anything further from me? I’ve got a family thing I need to go to. Nothing like good Carolina que.”
Dar stared down at the bottle, then at the runes across his hotel room floor. “No, I can’t think we’ll be needing you for anything else, Kirby.”
The mage shouldered his backpack. “I’ll wait for you to fulfill your end of the bargain as agreed upon, then. Catch you all later.”
Dar didn’t bother to watch Kirby leave. Instead, he turned his back and dug through the fridge, pulling out a variety of take-out containers and an assortment of beers.
“Let’s eat. Beer or wine? Or hard shit? I’ve got a fully stocked mini fridge waiting for you to dig in.”
Asta plopped down on the sofa, frowning at him. “What do you mean ‘let’s eat’?”
“Consume food? I’m the only demon in town, and you’re out of here in one more day. I intend to ensure you make the most of it. We’re going to get a snack, have amazing sex in my giant Jacuzzi tub, then head for Navy Pier and the ferris wheel.”
She shook her head. “Something’s not right.”
“Yeah, we’re not naked in my tub. We need to rectify that immediately. I’ll move the contents of the mini fridge in there.”
“I don’t sense the genie.” Asta jumped up to stand in front of Dar, blocking the demon. “I know you said some demons are stealthy and virtually undetectable. What if that’s the case and he’s still here, waiting to make his move?”
Dar moved left, and she blocked him again. A hoop of cheese fell out of his arms to bounce along the carpeted floor. “Come on, Asta. He’s gone. Let’s have some fun, and if you sense any kind of demon besides me, I’ll help you track him down. Deal?”
“No, no deal.” It was so frustrating how Dar wouldn’t listen to her. Darn it all; there was something wrong here. “Why is Carter not dead? What was his third wish? And what is this genie planning to do? I’m willing to bet my wings he’s not in Hel, and he’s certainly not likely to be benignly sunning himself by the pool, sipping a margarita after being imprisoned for hundreds of years.”
The bottle is empty. Carter’s words had rung true this morning, and she’d just assumed he was innocently unaware of the genie. But now. . . . He knew. He knew the genie was out, knew he’d been granted his third wish, knew the bottle was empty.
What was that third wish?
Dar sighed and turned around, dumping his armload of food and drink onto the dining table. “Fine. There is one possibility, but it’s pretty far out there. Do you know anything about possession?”
Asta shook her head. “Other than most of the time it’s simply a human with a mental-health problem? I know Hayyoth has had reports of it in his territory. He says it registers more as a channeling than an actual demon presence.”
‘I wouldn’t know how they register with you, but I can fill you in on the juicy details. Most possessions are by a Low who doesn’t have enough power or skills to maintain a convincing human form. Sharing a ride with a human is the best way to stay safe from angels.”
“But this guy is old and powerful, not a Low. What benefit would he gain besides hiding from me? Honestly, if he’s as powerful as you say, he probably doesn’t give a flying leap if I sense him.
“I don’t know of any benefit. Angels might not sense a possessing demon, but humans are damned good at it. All it takes is a halfway-decent priest and you’re out of there. Plus, a demon’s powers are blunted when he’s hitchhiking. Subjugating the human is easy enough, but it’s difficult to do things like blow shit up without destroying your host. The tradeoff sucks.”
Long shot indeed. This idea hardly sounded probable. “Why would he bother? Help me here, Dar. Brainstorm some crazy ideas, and let’s see what fits.”
The demon smiled. “You sure you’re an angel? Batting around crazy ideas sounds rather demonic to me.”
After last night, she wasn’t sure how much of an angel she was either. “I’ll go first. Maybe he needs to do something here in Chicago and needs to stay hidden from me while he does it, so he’s possessing a human. He needs time to do his bad stuff and doesn’t want me calling in the head of the Grigori. He wants me to think he’s still in the bottle, or that he’s been banished back to Hel.”
Dar nodded, leaning back against the table. “Good idea. Or maybe the human he’s possessing has something he needs.”
“What? As a demon, he’d be able to take just about anything he wants. Or he could just Own the human he needs — steal his soul and manifest his likeness.”
The demon shook his head. “You’d sense an Own; that’s pretty dramatic. No, I’m thinking stealth is the likeliest motive. He’d have to work quick, though, before the humans caught onto the possession. Whatever’s going down is probably happening in the next few days.”
And she was leaving tomorrow. “What would he be planning? I thought he’d be angry and rampaging around without a plan, especially since he’s a warmonger. This kind of thing takes restraint, and patience.”
Dar tilted his head as he regarded her. “We’re not completely without virtues; we just use them to suit our needs. Yeah, there are some ancients who have no control over themselves at all, but some of us can plan and plot. It’s what makes for a good demon.”
Great. She had a genie on the loose, an old and powerful one who was most likely hidden away in a human body, plotting world domination and/or destruction. And she was leaving in one day. “You’ve spent your life with demons; what do you think this guy could be planning?”
“I don’t know. Ask him — ask Rubeus.”
Like she even knew where the genie was. Even if she did, Asta could hardly imagine walking up to a powerful demon and asking him to kindly reveal his evil plot.
“Right. And how would Rubeus react if I ‘asked him’?” She couldn’t help the sarcastic tone creeping into her voice.
“He’d most likely tell you to fuck off.”
“This is ridiculous.” She felt ready to explode, and Dar with his casual indifference wasn’t helping. “I don’t know who he’s possessing — if he’s even truly possessing anyone. This genie has escaped me. I’ve failed. My last week on assignment and I failed big-time.”
“You haven’t failed. You’ve got one more day, and you know exactly who he’s possessing. It’s Phelps. That’s the only reason that makes sense as to why Rubeus didn’t kill him the moment he was released.”
Carter. Oh no. She wracked her brain trying to remember how he’d seemed at the café. He’d been angry and cold, but he hadn’t appeared to be a man possessed by a demon. Could she even tell if he was? Crust on toast, she’d had a latte with a demon riding a human and hadn’t even known it?
Asta rubbed her forehead. There was plenty of time to meditate about her ineptitude once she returned to Aaru. Right now there was a genie to catch and banish. “How do I get Rubeus out? Find a priest, I assume?”
“Or kill Phelps,” Dar suggested cheerfully. “That’s probably quicker than finding a priest. In spite of what everyone claims on the Internet, not many are willing or able to perform exorcisms anymore.”
“I’m not killing a human.”
“Why not? Other angels do, and I think this might qualify as a special circumstance.”
“I don’t kill humans.” Although, right now, she was seriously considering killing the pesky demon in front of her. “We’re here to preserve the human’s ability to evolve without demonic interference.”
“Well, killing Phelps would best achieve that goal. Either Rubeus will die with him, or he’ll have to form his own body, and then you can take him out. Dead demon, and it would only cost you one human. Or you can wait for Phelps to die a natural death,
and then kill Rubeus. Dead demon and a few-million dead humans.”
“I’m not killing him. I won’t do it.”
“That’s stupid.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“You may not be stupid, but this decision of yours clearly is.” Dar turned his back on her and opened a block of cheese.
“Killing him would make me no better than a demon myself.” How could she get this through his thick head? Dar’s solution to everything seemed to be either sex or murder. There had to be another way.
“You’d be better off as a demon.” Dar turned around again, nibbling on the cheddar. “No wonder you all are rotting away up in Aaru — no one can make a decision without a million years of deliberation and everything filled out in triplicate, and no one can take action when it’s clearly the best alternative.”
“I’ll talk to him. Maybe Phelps can oust Rubeus if I help him. Otherwise, I’m going to hit up the yellow pages for a priest.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that. I’ll be scarfing down some curry if you need me.”
Chapter 19
“We’ve got an issue.” Wyatt burst into Dar’s hotel room. “Phelps wasn’t doing anything but working the convention, so I set up shop in the concession area and dug deeper into the code behind Ouroboros. It’s a Trojan.”
Dar popped the last bit of cheese into his mouth. “As in condom? The entire business world is now having safe sex thanks to Genus Micro?”
“Trojan horse.” Wyatt paced in agitation. “The largest corporations, governments, millions of individuals have installed software that with the right trigger will lock them out and give complete control to the hacker.”
Well, that made a lot more sense than condoms.
“Guess that was his third wish.” At the human’s blank look, he realized no one had clued Wyatt into what they had found — or rather, didn’t find earlier. “The genie wasn’t in the bottle when the mage opened it. Phelps must have made his last wish before we stole it.”
The human’s eyes grew huge. “So there’s an angry genie running around the city? I’m glad my plane leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming that’s why Asta isn’t here?”
Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 47
