by Angie Fox
"Come on," I said to Shiloh, who inspected the deerskin cape tossed over an old chair. "Hopefully you won't have to wear that," I added, when she couldn't seem to let it go.
I coaxed her through the doorway and into Red Skull heaven.
It should have been a courtyard, a normal open-air part of a motor lodge with a modest pool and maybe a vending machine. But nothing was ever so straightforward with Grandma and the gang. No. They'd made this place their own.
It was Route 66 meets Harley babes meets Witchcraft 101.
I noticed the pool first. They'd turned it into a perfect conduit for water magic. Homemade clay chalices lined the edges, filled with coral-colored sea salt. No doubt they'd scattered sacred salt over the water as well. A fountain made of colorful pots full of stones and crystals stood at the center. Water streamed down the rocks and onto fragrant water lilies and vines.
The water glistened, clear and vibrant. This was a sacred pond.
Surrounded by lounge chairs.
Pots of lilac, sage, and hibiscus dotted the concrete expanse and I saw that the witches had begun digging up one side of the courtyard to expose the earth underneath.
A massive wall of ivy rose up from the back. The tangled vines stretched all the way to the sides of the U-shaped building, guaranteeing total privacy from the neighborhood. Smaller pots of herbs formed rambling walkways, and tables loaded with jars of all sizes crowded the vending machine area. I'd never seen anything like it.
"Look up," Dimitri said.
I cast my eyes toward the heavens and saw a gorgeous pink-and-orange sunrise.
This was an ideal place for the witches to gather. And even though a part of me protested the destruction of somebody else's run-down motor inn, the other part was so happy they'd found a place to love and to tend.
The hotel owner would never have to worry about vacancies or protection as long as the Red Skulls were here.
Several dozen witches gathered in small groups, murmuring incantations as they tied the colorful do-rags on each other's heads. Others selected herbs from pots. They were getting ready for something.
But it was Grandma who had me rooted to the spot. She stood up from where she'd been sorting what appeared to be some kind of teeth into colorful glass jars. "Stay right there," she ordered.
She wore her usual black leather pants and a Kiss My Asphalt T-shirt, but I noticed something different about her—a power in her demeanor, an elevation in how she walked and moved.
She'd even braided her long gray hair. As she drew close, I could see she'd woven some kind of pink and silver thread into her braids as well, making a sparkly, vibrant, altered version of my grandmother that I wasn't sure what to do with.
"Is that tinsel?" I asked, when she stopped in front of me.
She frowned as she absently reached over to scratch the sagging tattoo of a phoenix on her arm. "You got a demon rising up in Beverly Hills and you want to talk to me about my hairdo?"
"What do you have planned?" Dimitri asked, quite boldly in my opinion. He'd never been invited to any of the witches' ceremonies before.
At least Grandma respected that. She gave him a curt nod. "High communion with the universe."
His brow furrowed. "Which means?"
Grandma frowned. "Secret and scary shit."
"What were you doing last night?" I asked. The burn marks on the concrete made it clear they'd had some ceremonies here recently. I hoped we didn't have more to worry about than the Earl of Hell.
The grin Grandma gave us had an exuberant, slightly maniacal edge. "We've grown more powerful. It's amazing what rooting yourself in one spot, focusing your power, can do."
"It's a fantastic space," I said, glancing out at the courtyard.
"We're going to use it," she said solemnly. "We need to look deep, go beyond, so we can give you the tools you need to kill this demon once and for all." Grandma turned to Dimitri. "Sorry to say, it's coven only."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," my husband replied, without a trace of irony. I had to admit he'd always been one to support me, even if he didn't understand witchcraft.
"Good man," she murmured, before turning to eyeball me. "What I don't get is the she-demon."
I glanced back to Shiloh and Pirate, walking along the ivy wall. "Half demon," I said, waving them over. "She has information on the second coming of the Earl of Hell."
"Damn it," Grandma said, as if I'd just told her somebody dinged her Harley.
"She's married to a demon slayer," Dimitri explained, waving her over.
Grandma shook her head, as if it were old news. "I know who she is."
"He might be in trouble," I added.
Grandma stared at Shiloh, as if in doing so, she could see into her. I'd been on the receiving end of that look before. It was intimidating as hell and it didn't help Shiloh relax in the slightest as she approached us.
"Hi." The half demon gave a small, uncomfortable wave.
Grandma shoved a hand at her. "Gertie. Head of the Red Skulls."
Shiloh took her hand. "Shiloh McBride. I'm married to Damien."
"Who is missing," Grandma said bluntly.
Shiloh paled.
"Grandma," I urged. She was as subtle as a sledgehammer.
"What?" Grandma said, "We're going to help," she added, as if the petite blonde wasn't shaking half out of her gourd. She clapped Shiloh on the shoulder. "You relax. We don't bite." Her mouth split into a wide grin. "Much."
Shiloh steadied her shoulders. "I'm ready to do what it takes."
"Atta girl." Grandma nodded. "Okay. Let's do this." She rubbed her hands together. "Dimitri, we'll need you to wait outside with Pirate."
"Right." He gave me a hard kiss. "Stay out of trouble." He scooped up the dog and walked backward, heading for the door, when he called to Grandma, "There's also a spell loose—"
"This one?" Grandma asked, pulling Houdini out of her pocket. "Or that one?" she asked, pointing to a jar by the pool, where my Mind Wiper pressed flat against the glass. "We'll talk about it later," she said, even as Houdini curled in her palm like a contented cat. She slipped him into her pocket. "Right now, we got shit to do."
Chapter Fifteen
Grandma clapped one hand on my shoulder and the other on Shiloh's as she steered us toward the sacred pond. "Tell us about your link to the demon," she said to my new friend.
As if that weren't direct enough, Shiloh almost tripped when Frieda and a curly-haired senior citizen witch named Ant Eater burst into the courtyard hauling a metal cart, its contents cloaked with a purple cloth.
Grandma nudged me with an elbow. "Secret side door," she said proudly.
Frieda gave me a wave. Ant Eater didn't bother. She wasn't the type.
Meanwhile, Shiloh cleared her throat. "Our clan wanted the Earl to come." Her gaze lingered on Ant Eater, as if wondering exactly whom she'd gotten mixed up with. "Our seer linked into his power in order to learn more. It was forbidden, but she wanted to know the signs."
"Good," Grandma said, stopping to look Shiloh in the eye. "I assume the demons in your coven shared power with you, even though you're a half breed?"
If the question embarrassed Shiloh, she didn't let on. "Yes," she said simply.
Grandma nodded. "So that means you have access to the link."
Shiloh's gaze traveled back to the covered tarp. "More now than ever, since I'm the only one left."
I nodded. I'd killed the rest of Shiloh's coven in Las Vegas. "We'll also try to see where Damien is," I told her, eyeing the way the rest of the witches were giving my new friend a wide berth. "Hopefully give you some peace of mind." I had no doubt she could do this. Shiloh was strong enough. "Just follow the Red Skulls' lead and we'll do just fine."
Grandma planted her hands on her hips, amused. "Well thanks, Lizzie. Now I really hope it doesn't blow up in our faces."
Shiloh looked a little startled. "How dangerous is this?"
"Very," Grandma said, studying me. "Not saying I won't move
forward. I'm just surprised Lizzie is so gung ho." She looked me up and down. "You never used to be this bold."
A cool breeze blew in from the north. "Maybe." I rested my hands on my hips. We were in a precarious position here. Sometimes that meant stepping outside myself, taking a risk. "I've learned there's more to this world than me and what I want."
Grandma barked out a laugh. "I can't argue with that." Just as quickly, she lost her humor. "Still, linking into demon energy is a damn good way to fuck this up."
The wind blew in harder, tangling in my hair. "Or save us."
The witches moved in teams now, clearing chairs and colorful pots away from the sacred pond. Frieda and two others brought in large slabs of redwood. They were preparing for the ceremony. Yes, it was dangerous, but we had to work with the cards we were dealt.
Besides, there were good things that had come out of this demon connection. Grandma had to know that. I motioned for her to take a short walk with me. It's not like we could go far. "Listen," I said, "I might not have pressed so hard, gotten back there, and found my dad if it hadn't been for Shiloh's warning. I might not have learned my dad is in league with the Earl of Hell." It hurt to even say it, but there it was.
She gritted her jaw. "You're in its path now. It knows you're here."
"Only if my dad betrayed me."
Grandma gave me a sideways look. Yeah. Of course my dad would betray me.
Frieda and her compatriots began to assemble a wood structure in front of the pond. They bolted the solid pieces together into a beautiful, rough-hewn altar. They'd burned an elaborate pentacle into the center. I watched as Leggy Lucy, the new head of ceremonies, placed four iron candleholders at points representing the north, south, east and west.
"I'd like to go into the Cave of Visions," I told her, trying not to cringe as I said it. The Cave of Visions was a place apart that could be created only by the Red Skulls and their magic. It was dangerous and dark, an alternate reality where the veil thinned and the darkness could reach through.
Sometimes, it was the only way to see what truly threatened us, and in this case—see how to defeat it.
I braced myself, ready to argue if I had to. I'd been taken by a demon once while in the cave. A different time, Grandma had been sucked down to hell. But we did it because we couldn't have banished the darkness any other way.
"No," Grandma said.
Ha. No. Not going to accept that answer. "You and I both know it's the logical thing to do, even if it is risky. I've never seen you back away from danger before."
Grandma barked out a laugh. "It's not that." She glanced over at Frieda, who stood behind the altar, placing thick red candles in each of the holders. "Truth be told, we've moved beyond the Cave of Visions." She squared her shoulders, as if the idea still didn't quite fit. "Once the sun has crested, we'll begin the Seer's Ceremony. We can draw on the power of the entire coven." She gritted her teeth. "Trust me. It'll be even more intense."
Yeek. "And now I'm bringing a demon link into it." The Cave of Visions scared me enough. This, from what Grandma described, was on an entirely different level. I tried to tamp down the niggling of warning in my gut and go with the facts. "We don't have a choice."
"I like your style," said a witch in a wheelchair. Sidecar Bob had his long gray hair tied back in a ponytail and a birdcage on his lap as he dodged past us. "Three yellow warblers," he said, handing it to Frieda, who placed them on the altar. "They're drawn to magic," Bob said to Shiloh, as if that would assure her. "Wild animals have a strength all their own. They're the most powerful creatures to take into a ceremony like this." He caught Grandma's eye as he headed back. "I doubled the wards."
"Double them again," Grandma told him. She softened when Bob shot her a disbelieving look. "Try," she muttered. "We have no idea what's going to happen."
Bob turned to the she-demon, who was busy chewing on one of her nails. "Want to help me pick some sage?" he asked.
Shiloh looked relieved. "Yes. Thanks. I—" She searched for an explanation, a way to fit in.
Bob grinned. "Come on, then."
When they were out of earshot, I turned back to Grandma. "You said you have more power and that's a good thing."
She nodded. "It is. We just have to figure out how to harness it."
Forgive me, but that was an important detail. "You've never tried this new version before, have you?"
She swore under her breath. "We never had a reason. Besides, it's not like you're doing it by the book, either."
I looked out over the witches as they finished tying their headscarves. Several were now lying prone on the ground, meditating.
"Shiloh can hold her own." I hoped. "She's stronger than she looks." Her desire to please tended to tie her in knots. It made her awkward at times, but that didn't mean people should underestimate her.
"You like her," Grandma said. I could tell that surprised her.
"Yes." She had a good heart. And she'd been willing to put herself out there, to give what she could in the name of love and friendship. How could I not respect that?
Frieda tapped Grandma on the shoulder. "It's time."
I left Grandma and headed over to where Shiloh heaped large handfuls of sage onto Bob's lap. "Now," I said.
"You'll do great," he said to her. "You'll see."
For a second, I thought she'd hug him. "It's what I hear," she said, waving good-bye.
I'd have to thank Bob later. He'd been the first one to give me a welcome when I joined the witches. I'd considered it a small thing, really. But seeing it again, I realized it wasn't. A minor kindness could make all the difference.
It hadn't been that long since I'd been an outsider. I still felt like it from time to time.
Shiloh lingered close. "I didn't mean to listen in on you back there."
I gave her the hairy eye.
She gripped my arm. "Okay, maybe I did," she said quickly. "But it was freaky. I could see the sky darkening behind you."
"What?" I asked, before she pointed. Roiling thunderclouds had formed to the south.
"Not only that, but the air is shifting," she hissed. She was right. It had grown heavier. I don't think she blinked the entire time I was talking to her. "This is freaking me out. Where are Pirate and Dimitri?"
"Gone," I told her.
She looked as if she'd give anything to join them, no matter where they were.
The Red Skulls didn't form a circle, as I'd seen them do in other ceremonies. This time, they scattered in what would have felt like a random pattern, if only the witches hadn't been so precise.
Then it hit me. They were forming a human pentagram, surrounding the water.
Everyone had a place, a role to play. Including Shiloh and me.
"We can do this," I said. I hoped. "But the ceremony is going to require both of us to focus our strength." I took her hands. Squeezed them. "Together." I leveled a steady gaze at her. "A demon is using mortals. We need to know his weaknesses, tap into his power source." Shiloh was our perfect portal. "When the veil is lifted, we can also look for Damien." I didn't want to say it, but she knew: if a demon had him, it was likely the others knew about it as well.
"I'll try my best," she said. It came out as more of a question.
"You're not doing it alone," I assured her. "We only need you to help us focus our energy on the darkness."
It hurt her, I could tell. "I'm not dark anymore," she said quietly.
"You can be." We both knew it. "Please," I added. "Just once more."
She looked me in the eye and I caught the fiery red tint to her pupils. "Okay."
"Right." I kept my shoulders back and my voice steady as I led Shiloh to the altar. "Just…not yet."
We passed by Frieda, who shook her head. "We're using a demon in order to find a demon. You know how messed up that is?"
I kept going. "Half demon, and I appreciate Shiloh for trying to help us."
Her skin began to tingle where I touched her, as if it were electrically ch
arged. "I have a stake in this too," she shot back over her shoulder to Frieda.
We pushed forward, directly toward Creely, the engineering witch. A lock of Kool-Aid-red hair fell over one eye. She didn't seem to notice. "The worst part is, the half demon knows where we are, where we worship."
Shiloh drew back, like a cobra ready to strike. "If you didn't trust me, why'd you let me in?"
"I didn't." Creely drew a small bottle of powder out of her bra.
I blocked her with my hand. "Don't screw with us, Creely."
She lifted her chin. "Us?"
I grabbed the bottle. Creely twisted my arm, trying to wrestle it back.
"Stop," Grandma commanded.
We both let go and the bottle smashed onto the pavement. A whoosh of green powder surged up into the night. I didn't even want to know what that was.
"Get back into line," Grandma ordered Creely. She frowned at all three of us. "You two," she said, pointing at Shiloh and me, "we need you up on the altar."
The sky had grown even darker to the south. A strong wind whipped through the courtyard, chilling me. It stopped directly behind the motel. Whatever it was, the wards held it back. For now.
"Get on it, Bob," Grandma said, ascending the altar, motioning for us to follow.
"Righto." He clattered toward the mounting storm, running over Creely's foot on the way.
"Son of a bitch!" The engineering witch yelped as Bob's chuckle floated in the early morning air.
We needed this done. For better or worse. My mouth went dry as we ascended one step, two, until we stood behind Grandma. She braced her hands on the altar in front of her and raised her voice to address the witches. "Don't look behind you. Don't give it power. Yes, this scares the pee out of me too. Especially against a demon as powerful as the Earl of Hell. We hadn't planned on bringing a demon along, either. Still, follow my lead and we'll survive this."
Shiloh gripped my hand tighter. "You promise?"
Grandma turned, gave her a hard look. "I can never do that."
Chapter Sixteen
The sky grew darker by the second. Thunderclouds rolled in from the south. Winds tore at us from the north.
