The fire snuffed out, but I didn't stick around to make sure he was alive. There were people running toward the commotion from different areas, and I didn't want to get detained, having to explain to the officers how I set a grown man on fire and blinded the other.
I burned tires heading back the way I came and raced down the street as fast as I could, then took another road, hopefully closer to where Sam's shop was located.
Damn.
Damn, damn, dammit! This was not how I wanted to enter New Orleans!
Two
AN iNCUBUS AND A DJiNN WALK iNTO A BAR
Scylla
After a few weeks of making a lot of mistakes while testing out his physical limitations, Scylla started testing out his magical ones. They were limited in this physical form, as they had been during those years he'd slipped from body to body, enjoying the treasures and pleasures given to those in the Physical World. Pleasure so few humans truly understood.
He'd discovered he loved cheeseburgers. Not the overly fancy kind with all the stuff on them, but the plain, cheap ones. Scylla had come into this world with nothing, not even the coin of this century. It'd taken a few days with his first lover to glean as much information from her mind as he could, while keeping her writhing in ecstasy beneath him. He learned what year it was, how the government sort of worked, that this place was called the United States and that freedom was coveted here above all else.
That and the right to bear arms.
He learned her rudimentary knowledge of how money worked, then used her laptop, as well as her limited understanding of it, to learn more. He really liked The Google. He could type in a question and get all kinds of answers, and just pick the one he liked the best, which was usually the one that repeated itself.
Unfortunately, his usage of her killed her. He didn't realize this until he woke from his first real human sleep in a century and found her cold beside him. He liked the smile on her face and knew she died happy. It wasn't that he cared…not really. He just hated wasting a good resource. Before, when he had a body, he and his sister had learned to take their prey's energy slow and steady, cultivating their resources, protecting them. If one takes care of their food, it will take care of them.
Their souls, their entire life energy, were food for what he was. The fuel he needed to slip into shadows and take what he needed. But his physical body craved solid food, and cheeseburgers became his go-to delicacy.
Soon it was time to do what he came to the Physical World to do. Find a Goblin and bring it to the little girl. He wasn't sure he wanted to call her the Winter Queen just yet. For one, she wasn't really Faerie. And two…he still didn't know what happened to Medbh. And that was bothering him.
He and Medbh hadn't always gotten along. Though lovers a few times during those raucous Faerie feasts, he'd tapped into that wacky mind of hers to know her heart still belonged to Oberon. A myth no one had seen or heard from in decades. In fact, during his time in Alfheim, he'd never once seen any of the kings, only the queens. Though he'd often heard the kings did exist.
Scylla tried prying that information from Medbh one night and found himself trapped inside of a bottle for a very long time. The only way he got free was because one of her handmaidens, a wolf with very human-like eyes, knocked the bottle off the table and it broke. He'd fled the Obsidian Palace then, reunited with his sister, and never returned.
Maybe deep down he was happy Medbh was gone. And maybe he was a bit wary of this new girl—just in case she held a lot more power than he wanted to go up against.
For now.
He knew the Goblin was in New Orleans, this much Brendi, the acting Winter Queen, had told him. Male. And though he had a general description, Scylla's own magic might not actually detect the Goblin. Half human, half Faerie creatures just didn't pop out very often in the human population. That was one of their magics. Blending in.
He arrived in New Orleans under cover of night, which was fine with him, though unfortunately his driver, a true example of the definition of a redneck, had other plans than the ones Scylla had paid him for. It was a simple task. Drive him to New Orleans, no questions asked, and receive a thousand dollars.
Seemed simple. And yet again, Scylla was surprised at the nuances in the human brain. He should have seen the greed in this one's mind, and the lust. After all, as an Incubus, he should have been accustomed to others wanting him. Male, female, there really was no solid choice.
Scylla asked about their location, recognizing a swamp when he saw it, especially when the redneck, at gunpoint, made him put on a pair of handcuffs. He was then instructed to get out of the truck at gunpoint. Of course, he complied with a smile on his face. The man had a flashlight in the bed of his truck, rope, and a tarp. He gathered these things, approached Scylla, and threw them on the ground.
"I see you've done this before."
The redneck, whose name was Barney, spit to the side. He wore a dirty t-shirt that might have been white once, long ago, a blue jean jacket sans sleeves, black jeans and boots. His hair was cut short in the front, but he sported a thin ponytail in the back. And he was missing a few teeth. "You might say that. Youse a pretty one, ain't cha?"
"You like the pretty ones?"
He should have seen the strike coming, but didn't. And it hurt. Scylla lost his footing in the soft ground and fell on his side. Barney dropped to his knees and straddled Scylla, grabbing his jaw in his dirty hands. "You got a purdy mouth, boy. But a smart one. You think I'm too dumb to know you're a whore, just ‘cause you're a guy. Well, I know whores have cash money on them, so once I have a little fun, I'm gonna kill you and take me that money, and no one's gonna wonder where you went."
Scylla tried not to smile, which wasn't that difficult, seeing as Barney had a death grip on his jaw. Instead, he concentrated on locking eyes with the ugly fuck. Once he had that contact, all he had to do was pull.
Wasn't hard. Barney wanted it. Scylla could smell the man's arousal.
And once Barney had his lips smashed against Scylla's, the connection was complete. Scylla closed his eyes and pulled as hard and as fast as he could. Normally, he would never do this because of the condition it left the corpse. But desperate times and all that. He also didn't want to lose this body now that he had it. As the man said, it was a pretty body. Remi Laborde had been a very attractive human and kept his body in really good shape.
As Barney's energy rushed past his lips and into Scylla, the former realized something was wrong. He started struggling to pull his mouth from Scylla's, but a force even greater than himself, the true being of what Scylla was, held him in place, though it was Scylla who wore the handcuffs.
Scylla knew what came next and released the kiss at the proper time, and then turned just enough for the now dried out, mummified husk of Barney Pinkerton's corpse to fall off of him. Scylla spit a few times to get rid of the nasty man's taste and with a sharp pull on his wrists, the handcuff chain snapped. The pull of power had weakened the metal, as it always did to any alloy nearby. Luckily, the truck was far enough away, or the engine could possibly drop out.
He searched the body for a wallet, the handcuff keys to get the actual rings off his wrists, and anything else he could use. Once that was done, he used Barney's own burial kit to get rid of the body in the swamp, watching it slowly sink into the water. It'd taken a while to find enough rocks to weight it down, since the body itself was a dry husk.
In a day the body would disintegrate into nothing in the water, dissolving into the swamp. That way if the tarp was found, there would be no body inside of it and no suspicion.
Hands on his hips, he looked back at the truck. He had transportation now and a few hundred in cash out of Barney's wallet to add to the fifteen hundred he already had. Enough to get himself a nice room so he could start his eating, drinking, and searching for a Goblin.
As he was turning from the water's edge, Scylla spotted something in the water to the right. It bobbed up and down, floating between a rock and a
clump of thick grass. He knelt beside it and reach out to touch it.
Something shocked his fingers and he jumped back.
Magic!
Very raw, powerful magic at that. He knew there were Witches in New Orleans, he just hadn't given them much thought. Even now the magic touching this bottle seemed heavier, more powerful than any witch he’d ever known. And if this was indeed a Witch’s curse…he meant to stay clear of this particular one.
Witches…the God Mother's children. He hated them. All of them. These pretenders were the afterthought of the God Mother—his grandmother—who murdered his Aunt Diana, to spread her blood within the Well of Souls.
And these creatures are what came out. No memory of him, or his sister, or the other children or First Borns. Because Gaea had sentenced them to damnation within the Alfheim realm. And she'd done it at the hands of her favorite son, and his uncle.
Apollo. Now known as Azazel.
Anger swelled inside of him as he grabbed the bottle and, with one swift movement, dashed it against the front grill of the truck. If this was some spell set adrift by a Witch, some conjure meant to aid another or the Witch themselves, then he would destroy it. He would destroy all of it.
The glass shattered and he smiled as a cloud of yellow billowed out and hovered in midair. But that smile disappeared when the cloud continued to linger and then moved in Scylla's direction.
What the hell is this? Did I set something loose? Scylla moved away from it and circled around, back to the truck as it moved with him. He held up his hand. "Stop!"
It stopped.
His heart pounded in his chest as he waited the thing out, not sure how he could use his power to destroy something incorporeal.
>You set me free?<
The voice was in his head and around him. Scylla put a hand to his ear. "Yes." It might not be the best answer, but he preferred to answer true in case this demon, or whatever it was, punished the wicked.
>Then you are my master.< The cloud shifted and became red as it spun into a funnel and the upper torso of a man appeared. He was featureless and reminded Scylla of Hob. There were indications of eyes and a nose and mouth, but no distinguishing features. He was generic in his appearance.
"Your master?" Scylla narrowed his eyes. "What are you?"
>I am Djinn.<
Djinn? Scylla stepped back again. No…this wasn't possible. Djinns were rare, and they were never here, not in the Physical Realm. Their makeup no longer allowed them to leave Alfheim, not by themselves. If this Djinn was really here, and in a bottle, then someone brought it here and then locked it away.
I'm thinking that means this thing's a shit load of trouble.
Perfect.
Only, Djinns were very well known for deceit, and they rarely, if ever, had masters.
"You're gonna have to make a few things clear, Djinn. Me being your master doesn't exactly sync with what I know about Djinns."
>And you aren't human. In fact—< The man-cloud came a little closer and Scylla backed up. >You're an Incubus.<
"I'm the Incubus, thank you." Scylla smiled. "Scylla, at your service."
>Brother to Charybdis, twins born of Echidna. Ah, this is gonna get good.<
"How so?"
>I am under a curse, Incubus. Because you opened my bottle, I cannot harm you. I must tell you my name.<
Scylla couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously? Someone put you in a bottle?"
>I'm glad you think that's funny. Would you like to be stored in a bottle?<
"Been there. Was it a Witch? ‘Cause I felt God Mother's magic."
>No. But I would very much like revenge on the ones that did this to me. Especially a pair of cops.<
"I see. Well, I have a mission too. And that's to bring a Goblin to the Winter Queen."
The Djinn tilted his head. >You serve what's left?<
Scylla leaned forward. "Huh?"
>What's left of the Winter Queen, Medbh. Her head.<
That's right…the head was in the Physical Realm. "Where is this head?"
>In the keeping of a powerful Elemental Witch.< The Djinn smiled, though there weren't any teeth. >Would you like to see the Winter Queen's head?<
"Yes, I would. Very much. But that's not one of my wishes."
>Of course.<
The Djinn's form coalesced and then formed into a small blue cat. It was just as featureless as the man-form had been, but it was fully finished. No smoke body. It trotted to the truck and looked at Scylla. He opened the passenger door to let the cat in, then got in the driver's side and fished the keys he'd taken from Barney from his pocket and started it up. "So what is your name?"
The cat curled up in the passenger seat and sighed. It was obvious the Djinn didn't want to say. >Ripp'n Jack. But you can call me Rip.<
Three
A SURPRiSE ATTACK
Dags
I found the shop by accident. I didn't even think I was on the right street. I was still buzzing from using the Grimoire's power, as well as what I had come to understand was my own innate gift of illuminated palms with a zing. I didn't know if I'd killed the two of them, especially the one I set on fire. I also didn't know if I should care, and having that thought really set me back. Of course I should care. I mean, they're human beings, right?
Yeah. Human beings who intended to take what wasn't theirs, possibly kill me, and toss me in a dumpster. Sweet God Mother I hated these kinds of philosophical debates in my head. I was half human, so human lives should be something I felt strongest about. I'd been raised a human, with no idea I was anything else.
Well, other than weird. What other guys in high school could see and speak to ghosts?
Not any that wanted to talk about it at lunch.
I'd turned down Royal, then Philip, and when I hit Bourbon, that's when I saw the sign for Lafitte's on my left. So that meant that the shop should be…
Right there.
I spotted the sign, Bell, Book and Candle, hanging from the eve above. The building was classic New Orleans architecture, with a veranda surrounded by white painted railing and lots of half dead or half alive plants, however you want to view that, hanging from the iron supports. Colorful lights blinked around one of the windows…and as I eased the SUV down the narrow street to park sort of in front of the building, most likely in a no parking zone, I saw that it was a door, not a window. The windows were shuttered and dark. A single light shone upstairs, but I wasn't sure if Sam lived up there or it was owned by someone else.
Ivy grew across the wall in places I was pretty sure it shouldn't. I also thought I saw it move when I got out of the SUV and stepped foot on the porch. I hit the SUV's alarm, making sure to use the silent button, and then stopped. The concrete around the place was uneven, as if the city had started some kind of reconstruction project and then stopped. Bricks arranged in V patterns made up the actual walk directly in front of the place, and I could just feel something brushing against my skin.
It wasn't a web, but it felt like one because it was that soft. I reached out with my right hand. The sigil there glowed, illuminating an intricate Celtic knot webwork in soft, iridescent grids around the shop. I shined the light up and down, and the thing literally went into the sky and into the ground. It was nice magic. Very well woven, and it had a slightly…spicy feel to it.
I wasn't sure if that was for real or me just getting into the notion I was in New Orleans. I pushed with my palm and watched with amazement as the barrier weave gave just a little, reminding me of tightly strung netting. That single touch also alerted me to the power running through the fine threads and into the house. So, someone might be monitoring this ward and could possibly know I was here.
:So how's your back?:
I stopped. That voice was familiar, and it had been inside my head. It was female and had a bit of sarcastic snark to it—
"Hello Medbh," I said aloud.
She cackled and I winced. Geez, I'd forgotten about the Queen's head. Sam had taken it with her to keep it s
afe. She referenced my back because of the injuries I'd sustained while running from the mobs of Faeries that hated her and wanted her head. I'd had a Harpy nearly take off my wings.
Yes. I have wings. More on that later.
:Thought you'd forgotten about me.:
"No, I don't think that's possible." I pressed the webbing again, a little harder. "Is Samantha awake?"
:Nobody’s awake. But why don't you just come right on in.:
There was something in her tone that set off a whole mess of alarms, only I couldn't really put my finger on why. Sam knew me, Sam called me, so I was expected. Yet there was a ward up, and the only thing greeting me was a head. Actually, the voice of a head.
:Are you scared? Big, bad sorcerer like yourself?:
"Medbh, I'm not a sorcerer."
:No. You're a damn Goblin. Something I should have seen the moment I laid eyes on you. But your mother's always been stronger than me with glamouring magic. Wonder why it is I can see it now.:
I had no idea what inciting event in my life made it possible for her to see my true nature. As far as I knew, it might be the fact I drank Revenant blood…which I have to say, wasn't the weirdest thing I'd done since Sam left Savannah. "I'm coming in then."
:Okay!:
Her enthusiasm terrified me. So I swallowed, took a deep breath, and set both of my hands, palms out, against the webbing. A few pulses of light and the entire creation solidified like glass and shattered. The magic evaporated before it hit the ground.
:Nice.:
With my back straight and my own magic feelers out, not to mention the Grimoire rustling inside my chest, I stepped further onto the sidewalk and made it to the door. Pressure built in my ears, and I had to swallow a few times to pop them. I figured that had something to do with magic and protecting the store. I had similar wards on Mike's townhome in Savannah, where I lived, and Illiana had often said that walking into the house was like flying in a plane at high altitudes.
Chimes At Midnight (The Grimoire Chronicles Book 3) Page 2
