[Dragongods Saga 00] - The Demon Mirror
Page 7
Danielle had her hands wrapped around her body. “Just a bit cold.”
“Whatever happens, no more magic tonight,” Lionel said. “Once your life force goes below critical, no healing can bring you back.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Hood mage doesn’t mean stupid mage.”
The lights turned green, and I gave Lionel a nudge. He turned to face forward, then adjusted his rearview mirror so he could see Danielle. “How did you free yourself from the handcuffs?”
Danielle gave a weak smile. “It took a bit of maneuvering, but I managed to get turned around so that I was sitting in the passenger seat. My spellbook was on the dash, and I was able to open it with my teeth. From there, it was just a matter of finding the right spell.”
“You also found the magic to practically lift a building off us.” Lionel took a hand off the steering wheel to brush the surface of Danielle’s spellbook. “I’ve never heard the like before. If I hadn’t seen it in action, I’d swear it was impossible.”
Danielle shrugged. “Just a spell I learned.”
“Just a spell,” Lionel repeated. “Let me ask you this, Danielle. Have you ever had a run-in with a mage family before?”
“No,” she said.
Another red light allowed Lionel a chance to turn around. “Are you certain?” He held out the spellbook toward her. When Danielle reached for it, though, Lionel pulled it back. “This is important.”
“I already told you no.”
I watched her carefully. She didn’t evade Lionel’s gaze when she replied, instead, doing the opposite, jutting out her chin challengingly.
She was definitely lying.
Lionel put the spellbook into Danielle’s hands. “Thank you for saving us.”
I added my appreciation. “Yes, thank you much. Considering the situation, you would have been within your rights to just disappear into the night once you freed yourself.”
“And leave you two trapped underground? What kind of a monster do you take me for?”
“After we locked you to a steering wheel,” I said, “most people I know would have considered it pragmatic and reasonable to leave us to our fate.”
“Then you need to get to know better people,” Danielle said.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. It was both very likely true, and yet something I would never have considered.
“Where to next?” Lionel asked.
“Danielle, any other idea where Val might be?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“This isn’t adding up,” I said. “You called Val a nice old lady, Danielle. And that’s what she appeared to be from the photos in her house. But nice old ladies don’t become necromancers. They don’t drop buildings down on top of people.”
“If Val is behind the necromancy, it would in some way be because of her daughter,” Danielle said. “Val would do anything for Connie. Her face softened whenever Connie came into the room. She wouldn’t hear a bad thing about her.”
That description coincided with the adoring expressions in the photos we’d seen. “So you’re sure Val’s not just batshit?” I asked.
“She’s perfectly sane,” Danielle said.
“Mastering magic is extremely difficult, and it takes years of study,” Lionel said. “And I imagine the dedication to become a hood mage exceeds that of a family mage since it must be learned in secret. No way that someone capable of that could be—what was the word you used?—batshit.”
“She did summon a demon against us,” I said. “And set a trap to knock her house down on top of us. Hardly the actions of someone sane.”
“Something must have changed drastically,” Lionel said. “Whoever was in charge of knocking that condemned estate must have put enormous pressure on Val in trying to evacuate her. Yet Val resisted, clinging to her home and her memories. And then she set a trap, knowing that it would destroy her photos, her possessions, and her home.”
“You’re probably right.” It wasn’t getting us closer to her finding her, though. “We need to go to Casino Demonica. Grimstar, as a necromancer, might know something about this curse or the demon who cast it. Plus, Danielle said that he knew both Val and her daughter.” And if Kingston was still there, he could be helpful. He usually knew the latest happenings within the dark community.
“I’ve heard about Casino Demonica,” Lionel said. “It’s not safe.”
“It’s not safe for you,” I said.
“And those in dark community haunts never harm paranormal investigators, is that what you are telling me?” Lionel shot me a glance.
“I know my way around places like that,” I said. “We need to go to Third and Cambridge.”
Lionel drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then gave a sharp nod and indicated to the left, shifting lanes. “It’s not far.”
As he made his left turn, I glanced into the back seat. “Lionel, what do you plan to do about Danielle when this is all over?”
“Bring her in to Cress House,” Lionel said.
Danielle made a squeak of protest, and I held up my hand in her direction. “Even after what she did for us?” I asked.
“I’ve no choice. Father saw her and the spellbook, and I mentioned I’d been healed. Hadrian told him that I was investigating hood mages. It’s her first offense, so it won’t be so bad. She’ll just have to leave Philly and promise to never use magic again.”
“It’s not her first offense,” I said. “Danielle, tell him.”
Lionel cursed under his breath.
Danielle shifted uncomfortably.
“Go on,” I told her. I was confident that Lionel wouldn’t turn her in to his father if he knew that it might result in her execution.
“In Buffalo, where I’m from, I was caught a few years back by the Burkes,” Danielle said finally. “I was left at the bus station and given a ticket out.”
“You shouldn’t have come to Philly,” Lionel said. “The families in some other cities aren’t as severe as we are.”
“I didn’t know anything about that,” she said. “I like football and follow the Eagles. That’s the only reason I chose here.”
“So random.” Lionel groaned. “Why did you keep performing magic? Why get involved with Val if you knew the dangers?”
“Ever since I learned magic was possible, it’s all I’ve wanted to do with my life,” Danielle said. “Even before. By the time I was eight, I’d read the Narnia books and the Harry Potter series backwards and forwards. I never really believed I’d get a letter to Hogwarts or find a wardrobe that led to another world, but I hoped with all the intensity of a child who is certain what she wants. And ever since I learned my first spell from a dusty old book in a used bookstore, I never looked back.”
“You’re not a child anymore,” Lionel said.
“Magic is my life. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. I can’t give it up. I just can’t. I wouldn’t be me anymore,” Danielle said. “And why should I? I’m better with magic than most family mages I’ve come across.”
“It’s not about you in particular,” Lionel said. “It’s too dangerous to allow anyone not properly trained to use magic.”
“So why don’t you train people who want to learn?” Danielle asked. “Set up schools.”
“Like Val’s school?” Lionel asked. “Is that what you want more of? Classrooms of idiots taught by unstable hood mages who dabble in necromancy.”
“No. I want a Cressington-run school where I can demonstrate my skill and gain admittance.”
“Nothing like that exists, or will ever exist.”
“Why not?” Danielle challenged.
Lionel had no answer.
I knew the real reason. Magic wasn’t genetic, which meant anyone could learn, but that was the last thing the mage families wanted. Their power base was in magic, and they were willing to do almost anything to hold on to their supremacy. I wasn’t sure that Lionel understood that, but his father certainly did.
I stepped out of the car, and hurried along the sidewalk.
“Wait,” Lionel shouted, coming after me.
I sighed, and slowed, turning to face him. “Even if you weren’t a mage princeling, you definitely can’t come in like that.” His clothes were in tatters.
“You’re not much better,” he said.
I shifted the leather jacket back and forth across my shoulders, letting dirt fall off it, then dusted down the front of my jeans. “The leather jacket provided some protection. And the rest of the damage can be passed off as designer tears. I don’t intend to be there long.”
“I should heal you,” he said.
“Save your life force. The leather jacket protected my skin as well as my clothes.”
“If you’re not badly injured, then it won’t take much.” He reached forward.
“I said no,” I snapped, stepping back. I wasn’t certain if he would detect I was a vampire, but he’d certainly find out I wasn’t as injured as I should be. He already had enough suspicions.
“Okay.” He lowered his hand uncertainly. “What if a mirror reflection manifests?”
“I’ll manage. Casinos tend not to have mirrors,” I said. “Nor clocks. They don’t want their customers to do any self-reflection, or realize how much time they are wasting. Now, I really should get going. The night isn’t getting any younger.”
“One last thing.” Lionel leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.
Startled, I didn’t avoid the kiss. His lips felt hard at first, then warm. I felt myself kissing him back, and the warmth that started at my mouth spread throughout my whole body. He broke the kiss and stepped back with an uncertain smile.
My skin tingled. “Why did you do that?” My voice sounded hoarse.
“Because you could get away if you wanted to.”
I coughed to clear my throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“When we were trapped in that basement, I wanted to kiss you a thousand times.”
“We weren’t down there that long.” My stomach felt queasy, the wave of emotion surprising me with its strength. It had been a long time since I’d felt like that. A long, long time.
“A hundred times, then. We were trapped together, cheek to cheek, our lips an inch apart. Given the situation, I should have been terrified that I’d never see sunlight again, and instead my mind swarmed with thoughts of kissing you.”
“Idiot,” I said. “You don’t even trust me.” You shouldn’t trust me.
“You have secrets, sure, but I know enough to be sure you are a good person.”
“Some people just have the worst instincts.”
“Sorry?”
“I have to go.” I hurried forward, turning the corner ahead without looking back.
Chapter 9
No sign marked the Casino Demonica. Its door was slightly ajar, and one of the windowpanes was broken, damage that had happened a while back and never been repaired. I pushed through, glad no security had been posted. I didn’t particularly want to have to leave my katana behind. Despite what I’d told Lionel, I wasn’t certain to avoid mirrors.
The casinos and other drinking establishments for the dark community in Philly were never particularly high class, and this place had always been one of the most rundown. Grimstar, the latest owner, hadn’t changed things much. When he’d arrived, he’d generated a brief flurry of interest due to his claims of being a necromancer, but when he’d demonstrated little to no power, that interest had died down.
At the end of a dark corridor, a small door opened up into the casino floor. For a gambling establishment, not much excitement was evident. Sitting by the bar on oversized barstools, two trolls, evident from thick shoulders which hunched up higher than their neck as well as the gray tinge to their skin, stared glassy-eyed at nothing in particular, bottles of vodka in front of them.
Only a few blackjack tables were in operation. Three woodfolk, slight and small with very pallid skin and child-like faces, were gathered around one table, chattering in their noisy language, their hands moving with nervous energy. They provided the only bit of life to the place.
Moving farther inside, I found Kingston. He sat at a blackjack table, a glass of whiskey in front of him, and a beautiful young blonde woman draped across one shoulder. He smiled upon seeing me. “Alessandra, you came. Have a drink.” He shoved the blonde off his shoulder. She gave a start, looked around in a dazed manner, then lay down on the blackjack table, using her hands as a pillow, and closed her eyes.
I sat on a stool at the other end of the blonde, using her as a barrier between Kingston and me. “I didn’t come because you asked.”
“Still, you came.” He gave a dopey grin. “Have a drink with me.”
His voice was slurred; he was clearly extremely drunk. I nodded at the blonde lying between us. “You already have someone to drink with.”
“She’s nobody. I want you.”
“You prefer someone conscious? How flattering.”
“You know how much you mean to me,” Kingston said. “Have you been good since we last spoke? No naughtiness? No killing anyone you shouldn’t?”
How close had I come to harming Lionel when bloodlust had briefly taken me? “Killing goes beyond naughtiness.”
“Has Alessandra been a naughty girl?”
I sighed. He was so drunk, I wasn’t sure he was comprehending half of what I was saying. “Is there any particular reason you are here?”
“Huh?”
“Casino Demonica in particular? As opposed to another joint?”
He shrugged. “I’m here most nights.”
“Have you heard of a necromancer called Val Beaugard?”
Kingston shook his head.
“She’s also a hood mage.”
He shrugged.
“What about a woman called Connie?”
“Connie, her I know.” A greasy smile lit Kingston’s face. “She’s pretty in a skanky way, though she’d do anyone or anything for her next fix.”
I was hesitant to believe in coincidences, but Kingston didn’t seem to be involved in what I had been caught up in, beyond drinking in this casino every night.
“Are you jealous of Connie?” Kingston was watching my expression and reaching wrong conclusions about my thoughts. He put his hand on my forearm. “You don’t have to be, you know. We have so much more than she and I ever could.”
“Good to know.” I lifted my arm to dislodge his hand. “Where would I find Connie?”
“Grimstar will know,” Kingston said, a cunning look appearing on his face. “He won’t tell you, though.”
“Why not?” Some scheme had come to Kingston, and I wasn’t looking forward to finding out what it was.
“He doesn’t know you. He knows me, though. Owes me a favor, in fact. If I asked him, he’d give you all the help you wanted.”
“But you expect something in return?”
“I want to steal a kiss?”
“A kiss?” Was there something in the air?
“Not just any kind of kiss. A vampire kind of kiss.”
I made a face. “From me? Why? I’m sure the bloodbag will be delighted to satisfy your craving when she wakes up. Or go home. The Huntley apartments hold fawns in all shapes and sizes who will be only delighted to satisfy you.”
Kingston leaned forward and took a long sniff. “You smell delicious, did you know that?”
“I think you are smelling the sodden whiskey coming off the blonde.”
“So what do you say?”
“Fine.” The chance to figure out how to defeat the demon’s curse was worth a little unpleasantness. “Only a quick one, though. I’m going to need my life force tonight.”
Kingston’s smile widened, and he leaned across, pushing the woman out of the way.<
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“No.” I shook my head. “After. First you introduce me to Grimstar.”
“After?” He arched away. “I don’t know about that.”
I stood. “That’s your offer. Take it or leave it.” I could hope he was unconscious by the time I’d finished speaking with the necromancer.
“Take it. I’ll take it.” Kingston stood, and staggered away from the table.
I grabbed hold of his shoulder just in time to prevent him crashing into a passing troll. “Where will we find Grimstar?”
“His office.” Kingston nodded toward a door recessed into the far wall, and I guided him to it. Kingston knocked loudly.
“Yes, what is it?” a male voice replied.
“It’s Kingston, I need to talk to you.”
“What about?” The voice wasn’t welcoming. Either Kingston wasn’t as pally with Grimstar as he made out, or Grimstar knew how drunk Kingston was.
I leaned close to whisper in Kingston’s ear. “Tell him he’ll be doing you a great favor by helping me.” I then turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The office was small, with a desk taking up most of the space. Spread across the desk, instead of the usual array of office papers, were assorted spellbooks and old parchments. If the necromancer was a charlatan, it wasn’t from lack of trying. On the other hand, if he wanted his casino to succeed, he needed to concentrate less on old parchments and more on bills and invoices. Dark community businesses required as much accounting and management as any other, oftentimes more.
Grimstar wore a white shirt and waistcoat. His jacket was draped over the back of his seat, and a bowler hat hung on a hat stand in the corner. I had never seen Grimstar before, but I’d heard that, for whatever reason, he liked to dress up as a nineteenth-century gentleman.
“What do you want?” he asked without looking up.
“I asked Kingston to introduce us,” I said. “I need to talk to you.”
He looked up, and a smile spread across his face. “Ah, Alessandra Colescu.” He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair, which emitted a complaining creak. “A pleasure. I’ve met Mortissa and Sistine, but never you.”