by Angie Fox
Of course that's when everything went to hell.
Chapter Nine
The spell shot out in a wave of sparks and got a whoop from Frieda. "Go, Lizzie!"
Dimitri pulled me back. "Watch it."
The Mind Wiper slapped flat against Mimi's left temple. Her black plastic earrings swayed as she brought a hand up to touch where it hit. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Meanwhile, the spell wiggled out from between her fingers like crazed Silly Putty.
I drew a quick breath. They usually just…disappeared.
This one tumbled sideways and went straight for Frieda.
"Duck!" I hissed.
Frieda didn't listen. "Hey, now. I've got it." She reached out.
Missed.
The spell smacked her in the side of the neck. She stumbled sideways, tossing a glare at me. Like it was my fault she didn't get out of the way. "Did you use the toenails of a happy fox?"
Sure. Because small animals love to have their toenails clipped. "It wasn't exactly smiling." What did she expect? "Now chill out." We didn't need to be drawing any more attention.
Frieda slumped backward. I started for her, but Dimitri got behind her first. He caught her against his chest. "Jesus, Frieda. How do you feel?"
"Like I just had a shot of Jack." The blonde witch let out a small croak. "Make that three."
So much for saving Frieda. Dimitri and I watched in horror as the spell slithered down her neck, leaving a glittery trail in its wake.
We had to be smart about this. I turned to Dimitri. "Drop her if it goes for you."
"Hey," Frieda protested.
"Move," Dimitri said, as the spell pulled away from Frieda with a pop.
I took two steps back, trying to figure out how to stop this thing. It was going to turn into a spectacle, if it hadn't already. Besides, Frieda should have a few tricks. Her coven invented spell jars and live spells and whatever we were dealing with right now.
The biker witch started giggling.
Aw, hell.
I couldn't switch-star it. I couldn't exactly start throwing other spells. No telling what those would do. I smiled at a group of church members who were, quite frankly, staring at us.
The spell hovered for a moment before it zipped away, heading toward the back of the building. I watched it go, shocked. Grandma's Mind Wipers never ran away like that.
I didn't even know if I could catch it. Or how to trap it. Frankly, I was kind of glad it didn't attack Dimitri or me.
I went to stand at Dimitri's side, away from some of the crowd. "I followed the recipe exactly," I whispered, not at all pleased at how my voice cracked.
He didn't look so convinced.
"Stop—" He brought a hand up to his forehead. "Stop trying to be a biker witch. As for the spell, we'll get it later. Soon," he corrected when I opened my mouth to protest. "Your grandma can trap it."
"I can't help who I am." Anything I could do to learn spells would only help us. Usually. We watched the Mind Wiper round the corner.
In the meantime, this could be our chance to figure out what was going on in this church. I turned to Mimi. The membership guru looked a little worse for wear. Her shoulders slumped, her face looked mottled, and her hair had gotten all mashed down on one side.
I bent down in front of her. "You okay?" I asked. Mind Wipers were all about taking people into another reality. "It's time for you to tell us what's really going on around here."
Mimi let out a low chuckle, shaking her head from side to side. I felt a twinge of guilt. Still, it wasn't as if there was anything dangerous in the spell.
"You..." She reached out and dragged a lazy finger down my forehead, between my eyes. "You have no spiritual vibrancy whatsoever." She flung her head back. "And I haven't felt this way since the cast parties after Hair the musical." She lifted up, her eyes hazy. "You see that one? Naked penises flapping everywhere. It was glorious."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Mimi didn't care. "Now mind you"—she pointed at me—"I didn't get naked for parts like that. I did get naked for a few directors. Hugh Marlowe was the bee's knees. But I'd have done that for nothing."
Dimitri scrubbed a hand over his face. "Tell us about the church," he insisted.
Mimi giggled. "You couldn't even make the rock glow," she said. She shook her head. "I mean, it's a rock."
"Tell me about it," I muttered.
Frieda wobbled over, like an inebriated giraffe on stilts. "Lizzie's too uptight. Wouldn't know a happy fox if it bit her." She made it over to the wall next to Mimi and slammed her back against it. "Lordy, I could go for some Doritos right about now."
Dimitri watched Mimi, calculating as ever. "You said you'd take us back to learn about the church."
She gave a long, slow blink. "I wish I could, darling, but you failed the spirituality test. We can't do anything if you don't have the inner oomph." She considered it for a moment. "Maybe you just need to be purified."
Frieda braced her hands on the wall behind her. "Oh my God—yes."
"Show us," Dimitri said. "Maybe then we could join."
Mimi thought for a moment. "I've never tried it that way."
Dimitri cocked a grin. "Think of how great it would be if this turned out to be a new way to get members."
She nodded slowly. "Yes. The pastor would be so pleased. And he's always looking for new members." She paused. "We'd have to go to the sanctuary, though."
"Well, you know we'd love to see that." Dimitri took her arm in his like an old-fashioned gentleman.
He led her toward the back while I hung back to grab Frieda, who was busy running her hands over the gold-plated sunbeams on the wall. "Are you coming?"
She turned her gaze on me, eyes wide. "I hate to tell you this, Lizzie, but this place feels wrong." She blew a lock out hair out of her face. "Have you ever thought we shouldn't be here? That you failing is a sign to get the hell out of Dodge?"
"No." The signs were lining up. That meant I had to press forward.
"Okay," she said, an octave higher than normal.
Church had ended. We passed groups of people chatting to one another and laughing. They flung out white-hot energy that made my eyes water and my entire body warm. It was like dashing out of a dark room into the light.
We caught up with Mimi and Dimitri at the doors down to the old theater. The same usher stood guard, positively beaming. "Welcome to the church!" She practically glowed from the inside out.
I gave her a wave and dragged Frieda inside with me.
My pulse picked up when I saw they'd replaced the movie screen with a large mural of the full moon. It had been drawn so that rays of moonlight seemed to reach out to the rows and rows of theater seats. Mock torches lined the walls.
"Here we are," Mimi said, picking up speed as she approached a curtained-off enclosure at the front. Her presence here seemed to give her energy, or at least eliminate the effects of the spell I hit her with. It was wrong.
Darkness radiated from the curtained area. The heavy drapes matched the purple velvet of the theater seats. Silver beads glittered down between the folds. She turned to us. "It's usually just one at a time—"
Frieda whipped open the curtain. "Let me at it."
Oh, geez. "Wait up!"
Silver metallic fabric lined the inside of the space. It was small, with enough room for a battery-operated fountain, and a set of wooden stairs that led up to a tomb.
I shared a glance with Dimitri.
The stone burial chamber reminded me of the ones I'd seen at museums, or in National Geographic. It was constructed from of a single slab of cut and polished stone. The corners were rough. The lid was immense, decorated with a raised image of a bird. The sides were carved with a language I'd never seen before.
I approached it slowly. It was ancient. And evil. My demon slayer senses screamed at me to destroy it. End it.
If only I knew how.
It was cool to the touch. Crammed with inscriptions. My fing
er tingled as I ran it over a series of markings at the center of a large sun-like disk. They read:
सीजननी जन्मश्च '
जन्मभूमिर्गादश्च स्वपि गरीयसी'
गरीभूमिय
स्वर्गादरीयसीपि ग
My powers had given me the ability to translate texts before.
I tried to unfocus my eyes and concentrate. It was harder than usual. The sarcophagus emitted a slow pulsing energy that grabbed at me, tried to scramble my signal. I tried harder. It fought me at every turn.
"Darling?" Mimi touched my shoulder.
I shrugged her off, not necessarily wanting to explain my ability to read ancient languages, yet extremely grateful for it all the same.
Then I felt the words resonate deep in my chest. Underneath the swirling text, I could almost see the translation.
I squinted, ignored the icy thrum of the stone, until the words were clear. Guard my soul…
It appeared as if it were written in red script underneath.
Lift me up
I am yours
Mighty one
My temples pounded. It was never this hard to translate. This thing didn't want to be found out.
I yanked my hand away and gathered my thoughts for a moment. No way I could translate the whole thing without passing out. Even if we did have time.
"Who's the mighty one?" I asked, wondering if anyone in this so-called church even knew.
Mimi frowned. "Our Lord, I suppose." She fussed with her robe. "At least that's how the pastor explains it." She gave a small smile. "We're nondenominational."
No they weren't. They were dangerous.
"It's so Egyptian," Frieda said, sliding past me, reaching for it. "And if it feels anything like that rock, I'll take two."
I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "No touching."
"It's okay," Mimi said, too pleased for her own good. "Everyone loves it. It cleanses our souls." She scrambled to the foot of it and pulled the lid back, as if it were on rails. "Yes, it's a sacred sarcophagus, but that's the point. We're dead when we lie down inside of it, but then it gives us life. A new hope!"
Dimitri moved between Frieda and the artifact. "You don't mean literally dead," he asked, studying it.
Mimi lowered her hands. "Of course not."
"Just checking," he muttered.
She ran a loving hand over it. "This will show you the true beauty of the church."
"Oooh…" Frieda clapped her hands together.
Again, I wondered just what this cult was about if Mimi had no clue.
Shouldn't the evildoers know if they're working for a dark lord? Shouldn't they be tainted some way? When Mimi touched the artifact, the darkness should have impacted her. It had to. There was no way they should be able to remain in this building for any length of time without the darkness seeping into them.
"I'll try it first," Dimitri said, approaching the tomb as if it were an attacking animal. God, I hated to see him do it. He didn't look too thrilled, either.
"Where did it come from?" I asked, wondering if Mimi even believed in other dimensions.
Mimi seemed inordinately pleased at my question. "It was a gift, brought to us by our pastor. He's such a lovely man. I can't wait for you to meet him."
"Me neither," I muttered.
"Once you pass the test," she added. "It stands to reason, once you're purified, the rock will glow with no problem."
Sure. Yes. But first I had to watch my husband lie in a tomb that a reformed succubus had warned us about.
We were so screwed.
Mimi backed off. We all did, as Dimitri climbed the steps.
My breath hitched as I watched him climb into the coffin. I don't know what I expected—an evil spirit, a dark cloud, a portal that would zap him away.
It was creepy all on its own.
Gingerly, he lay down in the tomb. Mimi moved to the foot of the ancient piece. He braced himself as she began sliding the lid closed over him.
"How are you strong enough?" I asked her, with growing dread.
"It's a mystery of the church," she said, gleefully. The lid closed over my husband's hips, his chest. "It's one of the many beautiful things that happen here," Mimi continued. She was burying him alive.
Dimitri's shoulders were almost as wide as the tomb. He moved his hands to touch the stone on either side of him as the heavy lid rolled completely over him. It locked into place with a low boom.
Mimi clasped her hands together and let out a happy sigh.
This was one sick cult.
"How long?" I asked. "Dimitri?" I called, for my own assurance. And his.
He didn't answer.
Mimi didn't catch, much less comprehend, my worry. "Believe me, he's in heaven!" she gushed.
Not too soon.
"Dimitri." I pressed my hands against the stone, feeling the weight of the darkness. This was a mistake. "Get him out of there."
Mimi's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "It's not doing anything."
Yes it was. It was smothering him.
"It should be glowing," Mimi protested. She reached out and the rock warmed to a soft amber where her fingers touched. "Yes. I feel it." She shot me a look. "These things really don't work on him."
Something had happened if he wasn't answering. I raced up the steps. "Get him out."
"Yes. All right." She moved to the back of the casket like a hummingbird. "You don't have to be rude about it."
Slowly—much too snaillike for my taste—she pulled back the lid of the coffin.
I saw his head. His eyes were closed. "Dimitri!"
They popped open. "I'm fine," he said, voice hoarse. He sucked in a deep breath of air. Dimitri rose, anxious to sit, even though the stone lid was still at chest level. "I hate small places."
Thank God. "Did you feel anything?"
"Nothing." He shot a caged look at Mimi. "Unless you mean that glowing it did when I was in there."
He was usually a better liar. He must have been freaked out in there. Or he was getting his tips from me.
Mimi didn't buy it for a second. "I'm sorry, darling," she began.
I reached for Dimitri's arm, but he'd already leaped out and over the side like a cat.
"Let me try," I said to Mimi. We didn't need to get kicked out twice. I could rig this thing. I mean, it had to be just a larger version of that little stone we saw outside, right?
I stared at the claustrophobic space inside. It was a bad day when I was trying to talk someone into closing me inside a tomb that may or may not be from a demon.
But I had a plan.
I could make this thing light up. Even if I wasn't a natural, like Frieda, I had powers that would at least piss it off.
Then once I got in this fricking cult, I'd drag my rock-and-roll manager along for the ride.
Piece of cake, right?
I just wish it didn't smell like dust…and death.
Mimi took her place at the end. "I think you can do it," she said, eager to get me in the box. "Ready, darling?"
Like I was ready for a hole in the head. "Can't wait," I muttered. I stepped one foot in. Craving a little comfort, I touched the emerald at my neck. It didn't warm like it used to. Not since the day the Earl of Hell had attacked me and forced a knife into it.
It had healed itself. A soft line ran through it where the gash had been. It would never be the same. The Earl corrupted everything he touched.
I considered the loss a tragedy, not only because it had been a one-of-a-kind piece but also because I really could have used some extra protective magic right about now. I eased my other foot into the tomb. This was it.
Dimitri watched me, as if he could make it better though sheer willpower. "Be careful."
I nodded and sat. I could swear I felt the thing lurch under me. Fight me. The blackness hissed from it like a snake coiled and ready to strike.
I tried not
to think about that as I lay down inside the tomb.
Stone walls surrounded me. I curled my hands into fists and centered my power as the lid began rolling up over me. I felt the light inside me churning, itching to escape. Every fiber of my being wanted to lash out at the terrible evil surrounding me.
I felt hate, vicious aggression. It pierced my skin like a thousand needles. The air grew heavy as the lid passed over my face. My lungs tightened, breathing in salt and dust and despair as the stone tomb trapped me, closed me in until only a single shred of light shone through.
With a resounding boom, the lid shifted, sealing me inside the pitch-black tomb.
The stone walls pulled at me; the darkness swallowed me whole. I couldn't get enough air. I pressed my hands against the lid and felt another wave of hate. It grated at my skin. It wanted to imprison me forever.
What if this was a trap?
This afternoon, I feared the very existence of this artifact, and now I'd willingly climbed inside of it.
H-e-double-hockey-sticks.
The dark power that resided in this tomb had helped Mimi lure me in. What if it didn't let me out?
I tried to breathe. To keep my head. Focus. I'd make this thing glow and we'd get in the cult and we'd be happy.
My hands tore at the lid.
Okay. Power. I needed my power.
I reached inside myself for that churning, otherworldly strength. Cold fear skittered through me when I couldn't find it. It was there. It had to be there. It had been so angry before. I'd felt it right in my gut, behind my stomach and my backbone. It had wanted out. It had demanded to attack this evil. And now?
I tried to find any small sliver of light, but only felt a heavy, dark pit of a hole.
Had the casket somehow blocked my powers?
Why weren't they letting me out?
I resisted the urge to scream. Loud. Damn it all. I'd fought demons and dark lords. Once, I'd even killed a demon on my toilet bowl. I could find my power in this casket.
Or die trying.
I battled for that spark of light. I demanded it. I searched and I pulled and I forced it to come out. Fight, damn it!
It glowed low and deep, and that wasn't good enough. I pounded the sides of the casket. Get it! Hate it! Fight it like it fights you.
