by Sharon Joss
CHAPTER 15
The sight of Oneiri in the flesh thrilled my breath away. He turned his yellow eyes on me, and the menace of his gaze had me shaking where I stood. My cell phone rang, but I switched the darn thing to vibrate without answering. I sidled around the perimeter of the room for a better view.
“Voila; you see? Everything is so simple, chere. Oneiri here was a djinn once, like your petit pets. He came to me in my dreams, so long ago. Like you, I did not know about naming such a thing, and yet here he is made flesh.”
Another low growl rumbled and Oneiri gave a loud snort before sitting back on his haunches to await his mistress’s command. His resemblance to Blix was undeniable, but where Blix resembled a scrawny, hairless kitten, Oneiri projected raw power and predatory elegance. The difference between them defined unnatural versus supernatural. A near-human face glowered at me from behind leonine features. He vibrated with the force of barely contained energy and danger, a fantastically scary combination.
Awestruck, I could barely speak. “He’s real.”
His paws were the size of trike tires. I had no doubt that Oneiri would be as deadly as he appeared. Oddly, I had no fear of him, merely a healthy respect for Oneiri’s size and obvious lethal capabilities.
“Oui.”
“He doesn’t smell.”
“A big bonus, non? Manifestation has many advantages.”
I ached to touch him, but didn’t dare. “How did he get so big?”
Oneiri shook himself, and the slithering of his ebony wing feathers sounded like the shuffling of cards. A genie on a flying carpet could not have enthralled me more.
“Where do you keep him?” I couldn’t contain my amazement. “He’s just so big.”
“Once named, everyone uses them,” Rhys said.
“The life force energy of their masters sustains them, chere, but they can also grow powerful from absorbing the life force of their victims.”
My heart skipped a beat. “He’s killed people?” The phone in my pocket vibrated, but I paid no attention. A million questions flooded my mind, and I desperately wanted to know more.
I edged my way around the sphinx until I stood next to my great-grandmother. Blix paced back and forth, intensely agitated. Even Larry seemed distressed, licking his eyes repeatedly with a long blue tongue. The rest of my herd remained motionless. I noticed two more fanged toads had joined the party.
Oneiri’s eyes were at the same level as mine, as big as tangerines. I raised my hand to pet him. “Hey guy.”
Oneiri lowered his head and laid back his pointed ears, each of which sported a single gold ring at the tip. I snatched my hand back and bit my lips. Better not.
“So this is what Blix will grow into? What about Larry? What about the rest? Why do I have so many?”
Rhys said, “Pay attention, Mattie. This is important. Every time you speak or think their name, they grow in power.”
Chastened, I realized Rhys was right. Blix had already moved away from the herd, and seated himself on my left side. Larry too, had taken a few steps closer. He stamped his stubby little feet and stared at me with new intensity.
“So how do I get rid of my djinn?”
“The unnamed ones can be compelled to return to their chamber, as I did long ago. Rhys, in the cupboard behind you, you will find a volume labeled 1930. Bring it to me.”
The opened armoire revealed dozens of dark green, leather-bound books; each marked with a hand-lettered date along the spines. Rhys selected one from the shelf, and handed it to her. She appeared to know what she was looking for, and flipped right to the correct page.
“Here.” Her gnarled hand smoothed the page as if to caress the words written. “Times were difficult, the summer after the stock market crashed. No visitors came to Shore Haven that summer. Old Master Russ closed the Amusement Park, and the employees struggled to fend for ourselves. I was newly married to your great-grandfather Dirk Coumlie. He worked as a carpenter, but there was no work. We took boarders into the house, to help make ends meet, but there was no money.”
“The townspeople became desperate; waiting in long lines for every scrap of food, we subsisted largely on handouts, rumors, and hope. For some, suicide became the antidote to despair, as people who lost everything could not imagine a better future. Misery drove others to take what they needed, and robberies, muggings, and break-ins became commonplace. Shore Haven gained a reputation as a rough area; a place of seedy characters and illicit activity. Those of us fortunate enough to have a place to live turned our homes into armed camps. And then the killing started.
“People began to disappear. Sometimes the bodies would be found days later, with the flesh shredded from their bones, sometimes they wouldn’t be found. The rumors spoke of creatures prowling the streets on the darkest nights, in the company of a hooded man. In The Sentinel, the killer became known as the Lakeside Lurker.
“Shore Haven descended into a state of siege. The police refused to accept the truth, and were too afraid to dig the killer out of hiding. Curfew laws kept all but the most foolish inside their homes between sundown and sunup. Neighbors banded together for safety and stood guard over each other after curfew. Tales of the old Senequois legends surfaced, of evil spirits imprisoned beneath Sentinel Hill. Letters to the editor begged the mayor and governor to do something. I felt I had to act, but I did not know what to do.
“Oneiri was with me even then, and Dirk and I came to suspect supernatural forces at work. We came to believe the perpetrator was using djemons to rob and murder the citizens of Shore Haven, and if we captured this demon master, perhaps we could end the madness.
“Dirk and I went into the caverns beneath Sentinel Hill. We found where a crevice had been hacked open, and I saw many, many djinn gathered within. Whoever had broken the seal had done so with purpose, and was now a demon master.
“Every night, we scoured the streets, looking for both victims and the master. With Oneiri’s help, we eventually found a man hiding in the shadows. As soon as I saw him, I understood we had found the master. His vile aura revolted me. He surrounded himself with several unnamed djinn, and a large djemon.”
“Who was he?”
“By the time we found him, his demon had become so powerful, he no longer controlled the demon. The demon had become the master. He had lost his humanity.
“I could not understand the mindless fervor I found burning within him. I had never seen so many djinn before, and I had never been in the presence of such so large a djemon. The Lakeside Lurker’s djemon had evolved into an energy parasite, existing only to feed on the soul energies of his victims. The more it fed, the more powerful it became. By the time we cornered him, the master’s mind and morality had vanished, leaving only the brutish shell of a human behind.
“We fought with hammers; the only weapons we possessed. Oneiri and I held off the djemon while my husband fought the master. We held them until the police arrived, but Dirk was wounded.”
“What happened to the guy?”
“He died, but not before his djemon delivered my Dirk a mortal wound. There was nothing to be done.”
“What happened to the djemon? And all the escaped djinn?”
“I compelled most back into the cavern, and resealed the breach. I documented everything here in my journal.”
“You did all that?”
She shrugged. “I am the Hand of Fate.”
My phone vibrated again, and this time, I figured I’d better see who it was. Lance, of course. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” I explained.
“Let me talk to Mina,” he said.
Oh man, I must be late picking her up. I cupped my hand in front of my mouth and hissed my frustration into the phone. “Why didn’t you call me? Where are you?”
“She called me. You forgot to pick her up.” He sounded pissed.
“Toh! I’m already on my way.” This was not the place to be having this conversation. “Look, I absolutely must tal
k to you, but I can’t right now. Call me tonight.”
“She’s waiting.” He hung up.
“Wait!” I stared at the phone for a half a second, tempted to smash it to smithereens, and realized Madame Coumlie and Rhys were staring at me, expecting an explanation. “Sorry. I have to go. I’m late. Wonderful to meet you; really. This has been quite an experience. I’ll catch you later.” I ran.
By the time I reached the end of the block, the humidity hit me, and I felt like I was running slo-mo through jello. The black sky threatened with the boom of an imminent thunderstorm as I cursed leaving my car parked so far away. I prayed I’d outrun the lightning, and raced back to Mystic Properties.
