Devil in the details, p.1
Devil in the Details, page 1
Devil in the Details
E.J. Stevens
Devil in the Details
E.J. Stevens
Published by Sacred Oaks Press
Copyright 2018 E.J. Stevens
All rights reserved
Publisher’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Introduction
Welcome to Harborsmouth, where monsters walk the streets unseen by humans…except those with second sight.
Whether visiting our modern business district or exploring the cobblestone lanes of the Old Port quarter, please enjoy your stay. When you return home, do tell your friends about our wonderful city—just leave out any supernatural details.
Don’t worry—most of our guests never experience anything unusual. Otherworlders, such as faeries, vampires, and ghouls, are quite adept at hiding within the shadows. Many are also skilled at erasing memories. You may wake in the night screaming, but you won’t recall why. Be glad that you don’t remember—you are one of the fortunate ones.
If you do encounter something unnatural, we recommend the services of Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective. Co-founder of Private Eye detective agency, Ivy Granger is a relatively new member of our small business community. Her offices can be found on Water Street, in the heart of the Old Port.
Miss Granger has a remarkable ability to receive visions by the act of touching an object. This skill is useful in her detective work, especially when locating lost items. Whether you are looking for a lost brooch or missing persons, no job is too small for Ivy Granger—and she could certainly use the business.
We can also provide, upon request, a list of highly skilled undertakers. If you are in need of their services, then we also kindly direct you to Harborsmouth Cemetery Realty. It’s never too early to contact them, since we have a booming “housing” market. Demand is quite high for a local plot—there are always people dying for a place to stay.
DEVIL IN THE DETAILS
“Oberon’s balls, what is that smell?”
I clapped a gloved hand over my nose and mouth, stumbled to our loft’s sigil-covered window, and forced open the sash.
The trash-strewn alley didn’t provide the freshest air even on cool, windy days when we caught a rare ocean breeze off the harbor. The tall, brick buildings that formed the alley leaned together conspiratorially, whispering Harborsmouth’s darkest secrets, blocking all but the merest breath of fetid air.
“Demon farts,” Jinx mumbled. “I wanted a dog, but, oh no. You just had to bring home a demon.”
My roommate’s voice was muffled by the scarf she’d wrapped around her face, but her eyes twinkled teasingly. She might mock my choice of houseguest, but Jinx loved the little, lop-eared demon toddler just as much as I did. Sparky wasn’t just another one of my rescued strays—he was family.
Too bad he had the supernatural equivalent of swine flu.
I leaned my head out the window, taking a deep breath of city air, wincing when my forehead touched the iron bars. I gritted my teeth, not in anticipation of an unwanted vision, but in pain. The window bars wouldn’t trigger my psychometry, but the iron burned my skin, leaving an angry, red welt on my face, a reminder of my newly emerging fae powers.
Sparky wasn’t the only supernatural creature living in our loft. I was rapidly changing, becoming one of the monsters I’d sworn to protect the city’s humans from. I tried to use those emerging powers for good—and occasionally for profit when it helped me solve a tricky case—but becoming less human rankled.
This wasn’t the first time I’d become injured from one of my own security measures. Last week, I’d triggered one of the anti-fae wards I’d paid my witch friend Kaye to set on our office safe. We were lucky I hadn’t blown our office, and the loft above, off the face of Harborsmouth.
And now we had a demon toddler with a stomach bug.
I spun on my heel, eyes darting around the room. A good detective notices the smallest details, so I hadn’t missed the signs of illness—the rank smell, the raspy breathing, or the plastic bucket beside the couch—as I’d stumbled to the window. My mind hastily assembled a worrisome picture and an even more troubling theory.
“Did he touch any of the remaining wards?” I asked, hurrying to Sparky’s still form on the couch. “Or go exploring in one of our bedrooms? Did you check him for charms?”
I’d done a cursory sweep of the loft when my faerie blood awakened, and again when I brought the tiny demon home. But I’d meant to do a more thorough search. There was just always something more important, more pressing to do. How could I have been so foolish?
“T-t-there’s nothing in his pockets,” she said. “I checked. Forneus is on his way over. I didn’t want to worry you...and this might be normal for demons his age, right?”
I wasn’t the biggest fan of Jinx’s new demon boyfriend, but she had a point. With Father Michael out of town and Kaye’s blatant abhorrence of demons, Forneus was our best bet for figuring out what was making Sparky sick.
“If it is, he’ll know,” I said, nodding.
I fidgeted with my gloves, double-checking that the hidden wrist sheaths that held my throwing knives were secure and that no bare skin was exposed between the gloves and leather jacket. Finally, I scooped Sparky into my arms, careful not to touch his skin to mine. Now wasn’t the time for a vision. It was time for action.
“Grab the salt,” I said, mind spinning. “I’ll get him in the tub.”
Saltwater neutralizes or dampens most magic. It wasn’t a cure-all, but it was a start. Plus, even for a demon, the kid was burning up. A cold bath might bring down his fever and buy us some time.
I climbed awkwardly into the bathtub, jostling Sparky as my butt hit the porcelain. The saltwater would be hell on my leather boots and jacket, and the cold water seeped uncomfortably into my jeans, but all I cared about was the bundle in my arms.
“Ivvvyyy?” Sparky asked. He’d stopped sucking his thumb, but still held the tip of one long, soggy ear in his tiny fist.
“Hey, kiddo,” I said, forcing a smile. “How you feeling? Eat too much pizza again?”
The kid put away more food than a troll and had the iron stomach of a chupacabra, but maybe he’d finally eaten something that didn’t agree with him. There had to be something that baby Tezcatlipocan demons couldn’t eat, right?
Sparky burped, lowering his head to my chest. Jinx dumped salt into the tub, eyes wide and hand shaking.
“Lucifer’s fiery pitchfork,” Forneus said.
I hadn’t heard him enter over the roaring water, and I had to resist the urge to go for my blades. One practiced flick of my wrist and my throwing knives would be in the palm of my gloved hand. Instead, I reminded myself that Forneus was our best connection to Hell and our most likely source of intel on what was wrong with my kid. Impaling the man with magically enhanced iron and silver was a bad idea. The fact that the bathtub didn’t allow enough room to accurately throw my knives had nothing to do with my decision not to physically engage with the target. Nothing at all.
Jinx turned off the faucet and ran a hand over her 50s style halter dress. My arms tightened around Sparky, but I took a deep breath and nodded. It was a good thing I’d spared the man, because it was obvious that Forneus knew something.
“You know what’s wrong with him,” I said, eyes narrowing.
Forneus darted his eyes from me to Jinx. I’d never seen the demon afraid, but in that moment, I got the distinct impression he weighed the option of fleeing our apartment and never looking back.
Sparky burped again, and Forneus took one step away from the tub, but he didn’t run. Instead, he pointed a slender finger in my direction. “He isn’t sick,” he said.
“Then what is wrong with him?” I asked.
“He’s being summoned.”
I couldn’t breathe. Someone had sucked all the air from the room.
“Summoned?” Jinx asked. “As in summoning a demon? With a pentagram?”
“Precisely,” he said.
“This can’t be happening,” I said, trying to think of every piece of demon lore I’d read. Father Michael had an obsession with demonology and an impressive occult library. When I took Sparky under my wing, I’d read everything he had that was translated into English. “What would someone want with a demon child? And how could they summon him without knowing his true name?”
We all have a true name, and names have power over the supernatural. Funny thing is, I’d never met Sparky’s abusive family. I didn’t fancy a trip to Hell, and I’m pretty sur
I’d given Sparky his name, a name that came from love, not the power to dominate. And now some bastard was trying to hurt him, trying to take him away, using a name given to him by creatures who’d hurt him, a name that no longer mattered.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to scream.
Forneus looked away, tugging at his gloves. Jinx moved toward him, an offer of comfort if he was willing. I may not approve of their relationship, but there was no denying the obvious affection Jinx had for Forneus. After the demon’s recent actions, risking his own life not once but twice to save my friend’s life, it was obvious that those feelings ran both ways.
Forneus cleared his throat.
“There have long been foul practitioners of dark magic, those with the most odious of intentions, who seek to subject their will upon my kind,” he said.
Flames danced in his eyes, and wisely, Jinx decided not to interrupt. I shrugged. Nobody ever accused me of being wise.
“Spit it out, Forneus,” I said. “Why would they summon, Sparky? And how do we stop them? How do we save the kid’s life?”
Forneus sighed and shook his head.
“Do not try my patience, Miss Granger,” he said. “There is no rushing what I have to say. There is no simple solution.”
I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and took a steadying breath. I needed action. I needed to break things, to stab things, or burn the world to the ground. Instead, a shiver ran through me, and Sparky whimpered.
“This isn’t working,” I said.
“I’ll get a towel,” Jinx said.
“And coffee?” I asked.
Forneus lifted an eyebrow, but she nodded and pushed him from the room. Tears threatened, but I sniffed and kissed the top of Sparky’s head. The skin on skin contact sucked me down into a series of visions, visions made up of Sparky’s most emotional memories, beginning with the terror of Hell and ending with being rescued from the cat sidhe by a beautiful, shining Goddess. I was Sparky’s hero once before. I’d be that hero again.
I toweled off, wrapped Sparky in a cocoon of fluffy towels, and stomped into the kitchen with a belching bundle on my hip. I leaned against the bar, letting the scratched counter take the kid’s weight, and Jinx slid a coffee mug into my waiting hand.
“What do I need to do?”
“The child is already weakening,” Forneus said. “I know not how he has held on this long. Soon, he will dematerialize and either reappear in the summoner’s circle or cease to exist.”
“He’ll die,” I said.
“Yes,” he said with a wince.
“Or be tortured,” I said, voice hollow.
“Yes.” He spread his hands in a supplicating gesture.
Jinx bit her lip, transferring cherry red lipstick to pearly white teeth. It was the only blemish marring her perfect appearance, although the crossbow she’d slung over her shoulder while I was toweling off was an interesting accessory to the feminine rockabilly ensemble.
I frowned. My friend was fierce and maternal as hell, but she was human. If she went up against some dark sorcerer, she’d probably die or become a very fashionable toad. I needed to take the lead and make sure that Jinx stayed safe.
“I’m not letting that happen,” I said, glaring at Forneus. “Nobody in this family is going to die today. And, for the love of Mab, no kid of mine is getting tortured.”
Forneus sighed.
“The only course of action is to become tethered to him, to combine your life force through a blood bond,” he said. “It is ill-advised, at best.”
“Will it keep him alive?” I asked.
“Possibly.” He tilted his head. “Your witch friend, Kaye, may be capable of such a binding, one that would keep Sparky alive, but it will not keep the child here indefinitely. He may live, but in return, you could both be summoned. So long as the dark practitioner continues with the ritual, you and the child will be in danger.”
I shot a look at Jinx, and she nodded.
“I’ll grab our gear,” she said.
Forneus slid the blade from his sword cane and moved toward the door. Unlike my poor attempts at hiding my supernatural otherness with faerie glamour, he could walk amongst the city’s humans with his sword out and literal flames in his eyes without anyone calling the cops. Too bad Kaye wasn’t your typical human.
“You should wait here,” I said. “Kaye hates demons.”
“And leave my beloved at the mercy of an angry witch?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“You should both stay here.” I frowned.
I’d have trouble fighting with Sparky in my arms, but Forneus was right. This was dangerous and Jinx was human.
“Not a chance, Ivy.” Jinx sauntered over, tossing a bag onto the counter with a heavy thud. “You need us. Sparky needs us.”
“But...,” I said.
“We’re family,” she said, voice low. “This? This is what family does.”
She had a point.
Five minutes later, laden with weapons, a flatulent demon toddler, and the kid’s favorite teddy bear, we arrived at the doors of Madam Kaye’s Magic Emporium. Kaye was the most powerful witch in New England, my former mentor, and a friend. Too bad she hated demons with a fiery passion. She also disapproved of my friendship and business partnership with Jinx. Hopefully, Kaye was in a good mood, for all our sakes.
“Think she’ll let us in?” Jinx asked, shifting Sparky to one of her curvy hips.
On the short walk up Wharf Street, we’d decided to let Jinx carry the kid for now. I needed my hands free in case things went sideways.
“Only one way to find out,” I said, stepping toward the shop’s royal purple and midnight blue façade. “Hey, Humphrey. How’s it hanging?”
Huge gold-trimmed windows showed off The Emporium’s witchy wares to the Old Port Quarter’s pedestrian tourist traffic. The front of the shop boasted astrology charts, tarot readings, herbal teas, and New Age decor. The merchandise was harmless, but the building was an extension of Kaye’s will, like a megaton brick familiar. And guarding the entrance was a stone gargoyle capable of crushing my bones to dust.
“Good morning, Ivy,” Humphrey said, voice a rumbling growl like rocks in a blender.
“Actually, today’s off to a rocky start,” I said, making a half-hearted joke. “We need to see Kaye.”
Humphrey snuffled, pulling air over canines the size of my forearm. A low, warning growl erupted from the gargoyle’s throat, and I fought down the urge to bolt.
“Demons-s-s,” he roared, hackles rising.
“Oh, them,” I said, smiling and batting my eyelashes innocently. “They’re with me.”
The growling intensified and brick dust rained down as the entire building began to tremble with Humphrey’s—or Kaye’s—rage. So much for playing nice.
I gathered power to me, spinning the glowing threads of magic like finely spun cotton candy, drawing from the nexus of ley lines that ran beneath the city streets. That crossroads of power is what made Harborsmouth such a hotbed of supernatural activity. Vampires, faeries, and witches were drawn here, but not everyone lured to Harborsmouth could tap into the raw power of the lines.
It’s a good thing I’m not just anybody.
“I’m not in the mood for games, Kaye,” I said. “Let us in.”
My voice shook, and the salty, coppery tang of blood filled my mouth. From Jinx’s gasp and Humphrey’s threatening posture, I assumed that my skin was glowing. Demonstrating my supernatural otherness on a city street in full view of humans was risky. If the Seelie or Unseelie Courts found out, the infraction was punishable by a quick and brutal death. But the fae weren’t the only magical residents of Harborsmouth willing to do anything to protect the secret of our existence.
Unlike the bristling gargoyle overhead, I haven’t learned to cloak my magic from prying eyes. I hadn’t been raised as fae. I’d never been taught how to weave a glamour. Once I start glowing, I have to calm down or let the power burn out.
I was playing with fire.
