Wicked Words

by M. J. Scott

  "You probably need sugar," Cassandra said. Feeding me sugar and tea was her answer to many things, I was starting to realize. I guess if magic was going to mean regularly dealing with things that freaked me the hell out, it was at least some small consolation that I got cookies. Though right then, I wasn't sure I could stomach them. Or the tea, for that matter.

  "Imp goo first, then snacks," I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt. Damon was fine. I was fine. The imp was a smoldering pile of ash. I had won. I should focus on that.

  Cassandra lifted her bucket and walked around the blackened patch of grass, pouring the water gently onto the ash. The smell got worse before it got better. But by the time she'd made two circuits and her bucket was empty, it was beginning to clear.

  "Now you," she said. "Cover any parts I missed."

  It was surprisingly quick. The water soaked into the ash and seemed to melt it away, though the ground was still burned and blackened.

  "There," Cassandra said. "That's done."

  "Does it really make a difference?" I asked. I'd helped clean up after an imp death once before. I'd been too distracted by the fact that I was actually dealing with a magical creature trying to get to me for the second time in a few days to wonder what the cleanup did other than clear the mess.

  "Well, now the grass will grow back," she said, handing me her bucket. "And nothing else will be drawn to that spot." She turned to look back past the house.

  "Drawn?"

  "Magic can attract magic. The aftermath of a spell leaves a signature of a sort. If nothing else, someone could exploit it to get within the grounds to try another kind of attack. Now they won't be able to. At least not after we finish checking that—" Her hand took in the garden with a sweeping gesture. "—and adding more wards."

  Damn. I'd forgotten we hadn't finished. There could still be any number of booby traps, magical or otherwise, hiding in the greenery.

  "I'll take the buckets inside. Then we can get started," I said.

  Cassandra smiled. "That's the spirit."

  I bent to grab the second bucket. As I straightened, I heard the front gate opening.

  "Did you call someone?" I asked Cassandra, turning to watch the gate. I doubted Damon had. Not when he'd told his security team not to come.

  She shook her head, frowning as the gate completed its inward swing and an expensive-looking dark gray sedan glided through.

  It slowed as it drove past Cassandra and me, the gravel on the drive crunching under its wheels, but didn't stop. The tinted windows hid whoever was driving from view. And there was nothing on the car to give any hint. No corporate logos or stickers.

  As the car halted by the house, Damon walked onto the porch, a frown darkening his face. Lizzie followed a step or two behind him.

  Two men climbed out of the car. The older one, who had sandy gray hair that might have been red once, was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing the kind of well-tailored charcoal suit I associated with expensive men's magazines. His eyes were hidden behind gold-rimmed sunglasses. I didn't know him, but the other guy—younger, blonder, taller, and wearing an equally slick suit—was Ajax Fields.

  My stomach tightened. Ajax worked for Damon. Last time I'd seen him, he'd been in charge of one of the beta testing teams. The one Nat had joined just before everything went wrong. I'd thought he'd had a bit of a crush on her. Or stronger feelings. The last time I'd actually seen him had been her funeral. I hadn't had much ability to focus on anyone but Nat's parents, but the pain on Ajax's face as he'd watched Nat's coffin being carried out of the chapel had stuck in my mind.

  "Ajax," I said, not really meaning for it to be loud enough for him to hear me, but he glanced in my direction. He didn't look happy to see me. I tried to smile, but his expression didn't change, and he snapped his gaze back fast enough that it was a clear dismissal before walking around the car to join the other guy.

  The knot in my gut worsened.

  "What are you doing here?" Damon said, descending the front steps. Lizzie stayed where she was.

  The older guy folded his arms. "You didn't actually think we weren't going to turn up after you used a gun here, did you?"

  "I told you it was a snake."

  Sandy brows lifted above the rims of the sunglasses. "And that was a lie, wasn't it? That's the other reason we came. I wanted to see if you fell and hit your head somehow to explain why you're lying to us or whether you forgot that we can review your security footage." His gaze swiveled in my direction. "And to see why the woman who seemed to be sending you death threats is at your house when you had to discharge your weapon."

  So this was Mitch, Damon's head of security. I met his stare, refusing to be the one to look away. His mouth flattened. It seemed, like Ajax, he wasn't currently a member of Team Maggie. Well, the feeling was mutual. Especially if he was still going to see me as a threat. If he'd reviewed the footage, he knew damned well that I had saved Damon's life. What more could he want as proof of my lack of nefarious intentions?

  I had no good answer. Nor did I understand what Ajax was doing with him.

  I could understand why Damon's security had turned up despite orders not to, but I still wasn't sure what a tester was doing tagging along.

  "We've covered that," Damon said flatly. "Maggie is not the problem here. She saved my ass today."

  "So she 'shot' the 'snake,' did she?" Mitch said, making air quotes as he spoke.

  "If you've watched the tapes, you know what happened," Damon said.

  "Nothing good," Mitch said. "And now I see we have your other magical friends here again." He made a sweeping sort of gesture that took in Lizzie at the top of the stairs before moving around to Cassandra.

  Cassandra made a hissing sort of noise under her breath, and I had to fight the urge to smile. I was sure Mitch was good at his job—his misconceptions about me aside, Damon didn't hire idiots—but I was pretty sure Cassandra could wipe the floor with him if she wanted to.

  "They're here at my invitation," Damon said. "And you're going to work together for a while. So be nice. You don't want to tempt them to turn you into a frog." He beckoned at Cassandra and me. "If you two are done, why don't we all go inside and talk?" He turned and walked back into the house. Lizzie followed, and Mitch and Ajax started up the stairs in his wake.

  "Master of the freaking universe," I muttered, tempted to stay right where I was out of sheer contrariness.

  Cassandra chuckled. "You're the one who dated him." She nodded toward the house. "If we weren't done here, he could just wait until we were, but seeing as we are, no point putting this off, I guess. Mr. Angelico is an impatient man."

  I assumed she meant Mitch. "You've met him before?"

  "Briefly, when we helped Damon previously. I got the impression he wasn't thrilled about us, but he didn't interfere. Of course, we didn't find anything that time."

  Meaning she thought he'd want to be hands-on this time? I guess the Cestis had to work with all kinds of law enforcement at times. Including personal security. Cassandra would know how to navigate the situation. I would keep my mouth shut and watch.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Watching myself fry the imp on a holoscreen didn't make the experience any less weird. Nor was it less creepy sitting in Damon's kitchen. I hadn’t known his kitchen had a holoscreen, but it shouldn't have surprised me that he had technology at his fingertips no matter where he was in his house. Of course, most of the meals I'd eaten here, we hadn't really been focused on business. Sure, we were dealing with magical mayhem like we were again, but we'd also been in the kind of haze of first-lust, great-sex, new-couple that made the world go away a lot of the time. Maybe that was how I'd made it through dealing with the demon.

  But this time I would be doing it cold turkey. I made myself watch the footage as Mitch demanded to see it from several angles. When he finally indicated he'd had enough with a wave of his hand, Damon left the last image—the flickering flames on the grass—frozen in place.

  "So
what happens now?" Mitch asked, directing the question at Cassandra rather than Damon. He'd removed his sunglasses, revealing bright blue eyes that didn't miss a thing.

  "We'll check the garden to make sure that won't happen again. Then we'll need to search the Riley campus as well."

  Mitch pointed at the screen. "You want to explain to me exactly what that was?"

  "A summoning spell," Cassandra said. "Most likely set to be triggered by Damon."

  "Set by who?"

  "You're his security, you tell me," she replied. Clearly she wasn't going to let him imply that any of this was her fault. She and Mitch stared each other down, the atmosphere in the room, tense to begin with, turning even cooler.

  "Anybody could have come onto the property during the power outage. A trigger spell doesn’t necessarily take a long time to set up," Lizzie said to Damon.

  "We checked after the outage," Ajax said. "We didn't find anything."

  "You wouldn't have known what you were looking at," Cassandra said. "Unless you’ve added someone with magic to your team?"

  I shot her a glance. She knew they didn't. Was she trying to annoy Mitch?

  Mitch's mouth flattened. "No."

  "Well, then, I guess you did the best you could." Her tone was sweet, but her eyes were steely. "So now you need to let the experts handle this particular problem."

  Mitch opened his mouth, but Damon said, "Mitch, can I talk to you in the other room a minute?" He pushed back his chair and walked out of the kitchen.

  After one last glare at Cassandra, Mitch followed, leaving Lizzie, Cassandra, Ajax, and me sitting in awkward silence around the table.

  "So you're in security now?" I said eventually to Ajax.

  He nodded ,and for a moment I thought that was all the response I was getting. Then he shifted in his seat and seemed to focus.

  "I switched departments nearly six months ago," he said.

  Not exactly the warmest of responses, but it was better than nothing.

  I smiled tentatively at him. "It must be quite a change."

  He shrugged. "I started working with the security teams when we were following up on all the beta testers after—" He hesitated, "—you know."

  I nodded. I did know. And I didn't think he wanted to talk about the demon any more than I did. And it made sense that Mitch had chosen Ajax to bring with him when dealing with a magical issue if he was one of the few people in the know about what had really happened.

  "I found I enjoyed it. The testing work is fun for a while, but I guess this felt more...real, in a way."

  "Damon said the testers were all okay now," I said. "That's good to hear."

  "There's still a couple we're helping with some follow-up care, but yes, everyone is doing well."

  I wanted to ask how he was doing but got the feeling that might be pushing things too far. For now I would be happy that he and I could have a conversation, at least. That would have made Nat happy.

  Lizzie leaned forward as though she wanted to ask a question, but the kitchen door opened, and Damon and Mitch rejoined us at the table. Mitch still didn't look happy, but Damon looked slightly more relaxed. I hoped that meant he'd gotten his way in whatever their discussion had been.

  "Well?" Cassandra asked.

  "Mitch and Ajax will be going back to Righteous," Damon said. "You three can finish your sweep of the garden, and we’ll all meet tomorrow to work out the plan for covering the campus." He looked at Cassandra. "I assume if there are more of those things, then they're most likely aimed at me? Not likely to be triggered by someone random?"

  Cassandra nodded. "Given that nothing has happened before today, that seems a fairly safe assumption. We can't be certain, of course, until we've done some more investigations, but if you haven't had any imps trying to take a piece out of your staff until now, one more night isn't going to hurt."

  Damon turned to Mitch. "See? She agrees with me."

  "Plenty of people agree with you," Mitch retorted. "Doesn't mean they're right all the time."

  I hid a smile. If he wasn't so anti-me, I'd probably like Mitch.

  "I take people's safety just as seriously as you do, Mr. Angelico," Cassandra said. "You look after a company. Granted, it's a very large company, and I'm sure you're good at your job. But I'm responsible for a whole damned country. I'm good at mine, too. If I thought your people were at any real risk, I'd be telling you to shut the place down for a few days. But given what Riley Arts has had to deal with so far this year, I didn't think you'd appreciate me recommending you do that when I don't think it's justified." She nodded at Damon. "We'll keep an eye on your boss here. He'll be as safe as I can keep him. You have my word on that."

  A muscle twitched in Mitch's jaw, but he nodded. "All right."

  "I could stay," Ajax offered, voice eager. "Help out here."

  Mitch shook his head. "You and I have some planning to do. Damon, you know how to reach us if you need to."

  "I haven't forgotten how to use the panic mode, no," Damon said. "Everything is fine."

  That was a big fat lie. Everything wasn't fine, and I could tell Mitch thought so, too. But apparently he'd decided there was no point to arguing, so he just jerked his chin at Ajax, muttered, "I'll see you all tomorrow," in the direction of the rest of us, and stalked out before any of us could reply.

  Ajax managed a hasty “Bye" before he jogged after his boss.

  "Panic mode?" I asked Damon after Ajax left.

  He nodded. "Added feature of my latest chip. If I make a certain gesture, it transmits an alarm signal and my location."

  "You're GPS tagged like a fancy car," I said, not sure if it was funny or vaguely creepy.

  "Not all the time," he said. "Only if I engage it."

  "What happens if something happens to you and you're out of range of anything to transmit to?" Lizzie asked.

  "Well, then, I'm out of luck," Damon said easily.

  "What did you do before the chip?" Lizzie asked, sounding fascinated.

  "Panic code on my datapad," he said, shrugging. "And I have a small panic button sewn somewhere into most of my clothes." His mouth quirked. "The less glamorous side of making lots of money. No one has ever actually tried anything physical up until now, but we have enough threats and weirdness on the regular that it's better to be safe than sorry." He brushed his hands together as though the subject was one he wasn't entirely comfortable with. "Speaking of better safe than sorry, let's get this garden done. Then you can show me this library of yours."

  Watching Damon's face as he stood in the library and Cassandra explained the card catalog to him was the most entertainment I'd had all day. After a few fruitless hours going over his property with the magical equivalent of a fine-tooth comb, watching his brain almost short out trying to process that, yes, there really were a lot of very old and valuable books here, and no, no one had digitized them or even produced a digital catalog was amusing. Given I'd spent the entire time at his house wondering if another imp was going to appear out of nowhere every time I touched something, I'd take my entertainment when I could.

  To Damon's credit, he didn't immediately ask any of the questions I knew he must have been burning to ask. Instead he just shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "Okay, where do we start?"

  Cassandra looked almost approving. "You and Maggie got the best look at that imp. We have records of imp sightings. You two can look through those, see if you can find one that matches."

  "How many kinds are there?" Damon asked.

  "At last count there were somewhere around ten thousand."

  His brows flew up. Mine, too. "So many?"

  "There are probably more," Lizzie said. "Or maybe there's only one kind and they look different depending on how they're brought through."

  "Shapeshifters?" Damon said. His mouth twisted as though he wasn't pleased by the idea.

  "Perhaps. Of a sort," Cassandra said.

  Did that mean there were other kinds of shapeshifters? I wasn't game to ask. One d
ay I needed to know exactly what was real and not real in the stories that humans told about magic and the supernatural, but for now demons were enough to deal with. I wasn't sure I wouldn't just have a total meltdown if I found out werewolves, vampires, and the like really existed.

  "So if we can find this thing in your books, what does that tell you?" Damon asked.

  "Maybe how it was summoned. Something about its habits. It depends on how often we've come across one like it before and how good the notes are."

  "And how often do you come across them?"

  "Well, imps aren't exactly common, but they're not rare either."

  Damon looked like he had more questions, but Cassandra turned to Lizzie and rattled off a bunch of letters and numbers. Lizzie nodded and headed into the stacks. Perhaps the Cestis had their own version of the Dewey Decimal system.

  I took a seat at the table, glad to be off my feet. Cassandra had made me drink tea at Damon's, and they'd found me crackers to nibble on, but that had been all I could stomach after the adrenaline rush of the attack. I’d rinsed the worst of the sweat and grime off in his bathroom before we left for Cassandra's house.

  That had been hours ago, and now I felt like I'd been hit by a whole convoy of trucks. And in need of caffeine. But there was still work to be done. I just had to suck it up and keep going.

  Damon took the chair next to mine, removing his jacket and hanging it over the chair. He'd swapped his tee for a dark blue Henley. He rolled his shoulders and tilted his head to stretch his neck in a way that made me think he was just as tired as me.

  "Sorry about all of this," I said.

  He stopped stretching, face puzzled. "It's not your fault. In fact, if it weren't for you, that thing in my garden could have killed me today. You have nothing to apologize for."

  "It feels like I do. They tried to get to you through me. Or me through you. Either way, it still feels like if we hadn't crossed paths, this wouldn't have happened."

  "Maybe. But we can't change the past. And dwelling on 'if onlys' has always felt like a waste of time to me. I mean, how far back do you go? If only I'd never stayed here after the quake? If only your mom hadn't died and you'd never moved here? If only she had been the kind of person who didn't sell her daughter's powers to a demon?"