I shook my head. “Not good.”
“Hopefully, he’s dead.”
“No!” To my surprise, she hadn’t completely done him in just yet. I felt his pulse. “No, he’s still alive.”
She groaned. “Oh no, I’m going to have to do it again. Where’s my shovel?”
I whirled, staring at her. How could this ghoul be my sister? “What? You will not do anything more to this poor man! Good grief, Sybil! You cannot commit cold blooded murder.”
Her face was all innocence. “It isn’t murder when it’s demons. Don’t you know that? The bodies they appear in aren’t really theirs. They’ve already killed the original owner. They just use the bodies to fool you. That’s why we have the demon tests.”
She grabbed my arm. “There are demons after me, Mimi. It is a fact. This is a matter of life or death and whether I’m going to be around to raise my little girls.”
On one level, she was totally convincing. On another, she seemed like a raving lunatic. Which was it? How could I tell? But there was one thing I was sure of—I wasn’t going to let her hit this man with a shovel.
“I don’t get it, Sybil. How do you know these things? How do you know he’s a demon? Why would demons want you dead?”
“I just know. There is a lot about me that you don’t understand, a lot that even I don’t understand. But this I know.”
Something had been bothering me---beside the obvious—and it was finally beginning to surface as a real, coherent thought. “But Sybil. Wait. Your test didn’t work.”
She blinked at me. “What do you mean?”
I grabbed her hand. “The brew didn’t sizzle.” I stared down at him. “Oh my Lord, what have we done? I know why your brew knocked him out. He’s allergic. He warned us about that from the first. Sybil! He’s not a demon at all.”
She looked confused. “But I have to protect myself and my family,” she said weakly.
I stood fast. There was no way I was going to let her attack this poor man again. “Sybil, you’re wrong.”
We could hear Gary’s car pull up. She blanched.
“Oh no. He’s back. You stay here and make sure the demon doesn’t escape. I’ll tell Gary something—who knows what—and be back as soon as I can.”
“Right,” I said, waiting until she was around the corner, then I moved quickly, standing over Brett, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and reciting a poem in Latin, the one that summoned my familiar, hoping and praying he would be available. If I couldn’t get some help here I was going to have to call the police on my own sister. That would be a rift that might never be healed. My heart was pounding. I didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t do it. And yet…I might have to.
I said the words, felt the urgency coursing through me, then waved my arms wide in an arcing motion and cried, “Kashmir, excito! Te requiro.”
I held my breath, opened my eyes and looked around.
Nothing.
My heart skipped a beat and pounded harder than ever. I needed help and I needed it badly. What was I going to do if he didn’t come?
Closing my eyes, I tried again.
“Kashmir, excito! Te requiro!”
When I opened my eyes this time, there was a black cat staring up at me and I almost collapsed with relief.
“I was at dinner, you know,” he said with that superior tone he took at times. “You still hadn’t brought in any new dry food, so I went down the block and raided that annoying Siamese cat’s bowl.”
He had a right to be snippy, but right then, I didn’t care. At least he was here. I quelled the need to hug him. That was something he really didn’t like. Steeling myself, I spoke in the same superior tone. Why not? He deserved it.
“I don’t call you often, Kashmir. But this time I really need you.” I dumped the attitude and went into my usual frantic style. “Quick. Can we save this man? What can we do to him?”
His little black nose wrinkled. He poked at him gently with one black paw. “Hhmm. Looks like you’ve already done your worst.”
“No, it’s all a mistake. At least, I think it is. Sybil thought he was a demon and fed him some Witch’s Brew.”
He stretched, looking bored. “Of course. I should have known this would happen.”
“He didn’t sizzle, anyway. I think it only affected him at all because of his allergies. He says he has bad ones that totally knock him for a loop.” I looked at my cat beseechingly. “I’m hoping he can be revived.”
He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. You’re in luck, you know. There was a full moon last night, so I’m at the height of my powers right now. Later in the week it would be touch and go.”
I nodded, remembering that his power came mostly from the moon and it ebbed and flowed like the ocean tides. “Please, please try your best.”
He hesitated. “I’ll do what I can. But tell me this. What are you going to tell him when he wakes up?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Do you have any suggestions?”
He smiled. “Yes I do.”
Which was great, except that before he could tell me about any of those ideas, we heard Gary and Sybil coming our way.
“No Gary, really. He…he went for a walk. With Mimi. They’ll be back soon. Where are you going?”
“I want to get my drill press so I can work on that saggy cabinet door in the kitchen.”
“No! No, it’s fine, Gary,… really. Gary!”
Gary wasn’t listening to Sybil. That was unusual, but obvious, and the knob on the door to the shed was turning. He was coming in.
I gasped and looked at Kashmir. “Do something!”
Kashmir looked vexed.
“Where can we hide him?” I hissed.
There was no time to do anything and I knew it. The door was open and there was Gary, staring at me. Sybil was cringing just behind him, her eyes dark, hollow pools of dread. I bit my lip and tried to smile. What was I going to say? How was I going to explain this?
Chapter 8
“What the hell?” Gary barked, looking at me and then behind me. “What’s going on here?”
“I…uh… .”
I was frozen, unable to think or speak. And then a pleasant baritone voice broke into the moment.
“What’s it look like, Gary old man?”
The slightly amused masculine tone came from right next to my left ear. My head whipped around and I stared. Brett Kaden stood there, his hand on my shoulder, smirking as though we’d just been caught making out or something.
“Your sister-in-law and I were just…uh…getting to know each other a little better. Sorry if we’ve been neglecting the rest of you for a little too long.” His index finger touched my cheek in a move of blatant affection and he lowered his other hand to the small of my back as though to escort me back into the house.
“I was just showing Brett your new fancy leaf blower,” I fibbed shamelessly. I was panting a little. Would Gary notice? And if he did, would he just attribute it to my attraction to Brett? Whatever, it was awkward. “He’s interested in tools,” I ended lamely.
Brett chuckled, Gary looked slightly annoyed and Sybil looked absolutely stunned. I glanced around for Kashmir. He was busy fading into the shadows, but he gave me a wink and I sighed with relief.
This had to be his work. He’d somehow revived Brett in a split second and implanted a memory making him think he’d actually been with me all this time and not knocked out on the floor by that Witch’s Brew he’d taken a drink of. And it was pretty obvious he thought we’d been….making out is such a juvenile term. But is “smooching” any better? Anyway, you get the picture.
Now I really did feel dizzy and like I needed to go somewhere and have a little lie down all on my own, but I knew I wasn’t going to get a chance to do that. Still, this adventure was over for now. We went back into the house, chatting as though nothing had really happened and suddenly we were all eagerly anticipating a good, calming dinner. I ate like a horse.
It w
as almost two hours later when I was finally able to get away. By then, Brett’s faux ardor had cooled and he was beginning to give me puzzled looks, as though the phony memory of our tryst was beginning to fade and he was wondering what he’d ever seen in me. I took that as a good sign and quite a relief.
During a whispered conversation, I managed to get Sybil to admit that Brett probably wasn’t a demon after all. But she wouldn’t go any further and clue me in as to why she thought she knew so much about those supernatural beings. I had to get back to Kashmir if I was going to find out anything else about it. I slipped out of the house and headed for the tea shop, hoping my familiar would be around to answer some questions.
Kashmir was waiting for me, sitting like an Egyptian sphinx, his front paws stretched out in front of him, his head high.
“I thought you’d come calling,” he said dryly. “What can I do for you, my dear?”
I flopped down in a chair and sighed. “Well, first I want to thank you for saving me—and saving Brett—from complete disaster over at Sybil’s. You really did save the day. And with the speed of light, too.”
He sniffed and pretended to sneeze. “A mere trifle,” he murmured.
“I have to tell you, this evening’s craziness has convinced me that either Sybil is unhinged, or she really is afraid demons are after her. In either case, I have to do something about it. So I guess the first thing is to find Richie’s killer. Then maybe she will see that demons aren’t likely to be the problem.”
“You might have a chance at that,” he admitted with a yawn.
I glared at him. “I can understand her wanting to find the killer,” I said. “But why in the name of all that’s holy would she assume the man was a demon? And after her?”
He blinked his golden eyes. “Actually, it was quite a natural assumption for her to make. She thinks a demon killed Richie. And so it follows. If they were coming after him, why wouldn’t they be coming after her?”
“But…why?”
He sighed. “It’s a long story.”
I leaned toward him, getting impatient. “Then tell it to me quickly.”
He sighed. “You’re sister was once a demon slayer.”
I stared at him, nearly choked, then nearly laughed. “Oh come on. Now I’ve heard everything.”
“No, it’s true. I know about it because your Grand-Mere knew about it.”
I frowned. Was he putting me on? “And no one else knew?”
“Your mother would have known if she’d wanted to know, but she was so frazzled with all the other things she had responsibility for, she didn’t think she had enough emotional capital left to try to control Sybil’s demon hunting.”
“Sybil’s demon hunting.” Wow. I shook my head in despair. Who could believe this stuff? “And my father?”
“Didn’t want to know either.”
“And I…?”
“You were only ten or eleven and completely consumed with being on swim team at the Y. Remember?”
Actually, I did remember, and he was right, while it lasted, I was a swim team maniac.
“Okay, if I’m going to buy this wild tale, tell me this: how on earth did Sybil become a demon slayer?”
“When Sybil was in high school—her junior year I believe—she had a lot of trouble with a girl named Rosaleigh. That girl hated your sister. Rosaleigh was pretty, but not as pretty as Sybil. She was smart, but not as smart as Sybil. She was athletic…..” He paused and gave me a look. “You see where I’m going with this?”
I nodded. “I think so. I get the pattern. Sybil was a star and Rosaleigh was a wannabe. She was jealous.”
“There was one thing Rosaleigh had over Sybil. Magic. Rosaleigh could trick people. She put Sybil into one impossible and embarrassing situation after another, usually with the whole student body watching. The girl delighted in setting up circumstances where she could get everyone laughing at your sister. And Sybil hates being laughed at.”
“Don’t I know it.” I nodded. I’d been on the wrong side of some of Sybil’s tirades.
“Indeed. But Sybil is a fighter. She wasn’t going to let this annoying girl get the best of her. She began trying out a few spells of her own, but she wanted more. So she began to take karate lessons.”
“Ah.”
“It just so happened that the local karate trainer in those days was a man named Cap Sawyer. He was handsome, strong and charismatic. And he trained demon slayers. He saw the potential in Sybil, including her heritage in the supernatural realm. And he soon recruited her to join his group of hunters.”
“He had a whole crew of them?”
“Oh yes. And they were needed. There was no doubt that they were needed. This town at that time was slowly being infested by demons. What he did saved the town.”
I stared at him. Funny, I was living here at the time and I don’t remember demons running wild. But then, I wasn’t sure I would know a demon if I saw one. It all felt kind of creepy to know there might be evil things going on and us not even aware of it.
Maybe—maybe not. This was a crazy old black cat telling me these things. Why was I even listening to him?
But I knew why. He was channeling Grand-Mere, channeling all the past history of my family. What else could I do but listen?
“However, there was a down side,” he went on. “You would have to admit it pretty much gobbled up most of Sybil’s high school years. She didn’t get a chance to deal with that time the way she might have wanted to, with boyfriends and dances and dates. She was always in training, always too busy to have fun.”
“So she was always fighting off demons?” I was still having a hard time with that.
He nodded. “And those were often very brutal fights. She was often in grave danger.”
“Unbelievable,” I murmured to myself. Luckily, Kashmir didn’t catch it.
“Whatever happened to that Cap Sawyer guy?” I asked.
“He’s gone. And believe me, you do not want to look him up.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you were to find him, it would be like awakening the memories of that whole period of time. Once there was no longer a need to have a fighting force, the troops were disbanded and it was all erased from the institutional memory banks. No one knows about Sybil and what she did back then. Even Sybil is only vaguely aware that she did something pretty hard and pretty brave. But hopefully she’s not really sure what that was.”
I wasn’t certain I could agree with that. “She seems pretty sure to me.”
“Yes, her memories seem to be returning in a disturbing way. Let’s hope we can tamp those back down again when this is done. But in the meantime, the worst thing you could do would be to summon up Cap Sawyer. If she were to contact him again, all our hard work erasing things would be lost. She’d be back in the thick of it and definitely in danger. And we don’t want that.”
“No, of course not. And believe me, I’m determined to find out who Richie’s real killer is so that Sybil can calm down and stop thinking demons are after her.”
Kashmir nodded. “Stop tempting fate,” he muttered as though to himself. “Yes.”
I thanked Kashmir. I was so lucky to have him on my side. And I told him I was going to run over to Max’s office and see how his search for information was going. Kashmir reminded me, as I was going out the door, that I was neglecting my duties in some ways.
“You’re going to have to start having regular hours with this tea shop,” he said. “You’re rather hit or miss these days.”
“I know,” I said, grimacing. He was right, of course. “But to do that, I’m going to have to hire some regular employees, and I’m just not ready to take that step yet.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Maybe I’ll start looking for someone for you.”
“You do that.” I waved and headed out. I went straight over to the newspaper office. The light was still on. I knocked on the building entrance and Max came down to let me in.
“Did you bring me any
thing to eat?” he said, his eyes bright with hope.
I bit my lip, feeling guilty that I hadn’t even thought of it, despite all that left-over lasagna I’d just helped put away. “Sorry. You should have said something. You want me to go get you a burger or something?”
He shook his head, looking sad and hungry. “No. I’ll survive.” He sighed, then forgot all that and changed the subject. “Come on in to my office. I’ve dug up some things you ought to take a look at.”
He had some screen captures and some old microfiche of news items concerning strange goings-on in town—buildings burning with people seen in the windows whose remains were never found, cars disappearing into thin air, bodies showing up in unusual places.
“So there really was something going on around here fifteen years ago,” I mused.
Max nodded. “Oh yeah. There were weird murders and lots of assaults and break-ins. Some of the articles seem to blame it all on organized crime, some on juvenile delinquents out of control, some on terrorism. One letter to the editor even claimed it was people from the neighboring rival town trying to throw us off our feed just before the big game. It was pretty wild.”
“But no one mentions the word demon?” I asked, trying to look innocent.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Demons.” I whispered it. “What do you know about demons?”
He blinked. “Not a darn thing. What do you know about them?”
“Uh…nothing.” I shook my head, ready to retreat from that subject. “But I’m just amazed. This almost sounds like a town gone mad.”
“Crazy, huh? And somehow Richie seems to have been involved in it all. I can’t see how, but I haven’t started interviewing people about it yet.”
I took a deep breath and closed the laptop I’d been using. “Okay then. Let’s get back to the heart of the matter. Who killed Richie?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Right.” I didn’t want to bring up Sybil and what role she might be playing. It was all too weird and I was going to need some space and time to think it over and analyze what was really going on. I looked at Max.
Confessions of a Teenage Slayer (Sister Witchcraft Book 2) Page 6
