Hexes and flames, p.3
Hexes & Flames, page 3
A storm had arrived, and it was evil and magical.
CHAPTER 3
A dark magic virus was spreading through New York City, and I had no idea how to stop it. I went from having mundane worries about how I was going to feed my family to a supernatural problem of gargantuan proportions in less than twenty-four hours. Yay me. The issue wasn’t that it was a magical problem—okay, well, a little—but that it was affecting the human population.
Strange how I thought I was on a break from all the magical drama, only to find myself back in, neck deep in its cauldron.
The persons responsible had gone through a lot of trouble infecting the humans. It was unlikely they’d done it just for the hell of it, which meant they had some sort of plan. It also meant they wouldn’t stop until they followed through with it. Not good.
I’d spent the rest of the night and into the next morning rummaging through all my books of spells, my records of Dark magic, and every demon tome I had, which were about two hundred. Only when I’d gone through all of my grandfather’s and my magical collection did I stop.
There was nothing here on magical viruses.
I jerked awake from my nap with a scroll of paper stuck to my forehead. The screen on my phone said it was one in the afternoon. Fearing I’d missed something, I decided to go through all the tomes again, just in case.
After all the hours of work, the same, reoccurring questions burned inside my head. Who was doing it and why? If I could figure out who was poisoning the humans, I could put a stop to it before it got worse. It was all over the human news and on every social network. They were treating it as an act of terror and were now looking for the individuals who’d spiked the restaurant food with anthrax. But I knew better.
The obvious was that this person was magically inclined. Witches came to mind first, and demons were a close second. And the third, well, some humans were also capable of some magic, though it was rare.
“You won’t find anything in this miserable excuse for a magical library,” came Faris’s voice behind me. “If it can even be called that. It’s more like a magician’s thrift shop than an actual witch’s archive. Nothing is organized. Just all thrown together.”
I gritted my teeth and whirled around. “If you’ve got nothing useful to add, don’t say anything.”
The mid-demon raised his hands in mock surrender. Dressed in his usual sleek black, the sunglasses on his face made him look like an eighties popstar who never outgrew the trend. “I’m just offering you my honest, demon opinion, Sammy, darling. Nothing here will help.”
I slapped my copy of Top 100 Useful Curses for the Dark Witch shut with a bang. “Fine. Where can I find something that will help me, genius?”
Faris lifted a brow. “In most of the Netherworld’s demon libraries, of course. Their knowledge is extensive. We have been around for thousands of years longer than you mere mortals. Pay attention, and maybe you can learn a thing or two from us.”
“Is that so?” I demanded, my jaw tightening, as I shoved my hands onto my hips. “Unless you fancy a trip back to your homeland, how is this going to help me? We both know you can’t go back. Not unless you want your… how did you put it? Oh yes. Your innards pulled out from your mouth.”
Faris waved the hand holding his drink in a dismissive gesture. “I’m just saying I doubt you’ll find what you need here. Don’t you witches have a collective archive or something? A compendium of a much bigger scale of magical tomes and the likes?”
I let out a sigh and leaned my butt against the table’s edge. “Yes,” I answered, hating to admit it. “It’s called Shadows Shrine. I think I should go have a look. If there’s something about magical viruses, it’ll be there.” An icy sensation rippled through me at the ambiguous details and aspects of this virus. “It would help to know a little bit more about it.” Like what sick bastard did this and why? If only I could have touched that human man, maybe I’d have a better idea. Or maybe I’d be dead too.
“Out with it, then.” In a smooth motion, Faris grabbed the empty chair, spun it around, and sat facing me. “Tell me. What do you have so far?”
My eyebrows fell to the bridge of my nose. “What? What is this?”
Faris took a mouthful of his drink and smacked his lips. “What does it look like? We’re going to brainstorm, my darling. I love a good brainstorming session, though it might require more alcohol. That’s truly when the greatest ideas emerge—when you’re drunk.”
I stared at him. Brainstorming ideas with a mid-demon from the Netherworld about possible magical viruses. My life was just getting better and better.
“I am your familiar,” said Faris, his voice deeper and measured. “I believe brainstorming with one’s witch is in the job description. I’m to share my wisdom and assistance in all magical workings. I’m to assist and aid my witch with spells and anything else she might desire.” He raised his brows suggestively, and I didn’t appreciate how he said “my witch,” like I belonged to him. With familiars, it was the other way around. We were the bosses, not our demons.
My irritation rose at the massive problems I was foreseeing. “Right now, I need you to be serious.”
Faris gave me a knowing look. “Familiars are partners in the practice of everything magic. I’m your partner, and partners share. They help each other. Go on,” pressed the mid-demon. “Who do you think poisoned the poor little humans to death?” He beamed as though recollecting the dying humans was something he was really eager to talk about. Yup. He was a sick bastard.
Why the hell not. “For one thing, I don’t think it was witches.”
Faris’s eyebrows were high on his forehead. “Not witches, eh? You certain about that?”
“Ninety percent certain,” I answered, remembering the feeling and the smell of the magic. “What little magic I felt was different. I’d never felt anything like it. It wasn’t Dark magic or white magic. It left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Like ash.” I watched Faris’s face for any signs that he’d felt the same as me, but his face was blank. “And,” I continued, “it’s too obvious. No sane witch would use his or her own magic when they know it could easily be traced back to them. The way it was done, poison in the food, according to the human news, sounds to me like—”
“They wanted to get caught,” said Faris.
I nodded. “Exactly. Whoever infected the mortals with this magical virus—”
“Deadly magical virus.”
“Deadly magical virus, knew we’d blame the witches first. It was done on purpose. Like a setup. It’s too easy. And what’s their motive?”
“Humans are dreary,” offered Faris.
“If witches wanted to kill these humans, for whatever reasons, they wouldn’t use magic. They didn’t do this.”
“I agree,” said the mid-demon, surprising me as he took a swig of his drink. “What else?”
“I’m left with either a demon or a human. Demons, well, because they’re psychotic and love to kill and torture humans. No offense.”
Faris shrugged. “None taken. It’s in our nature,” said the mid-demon proudly. “And humans?”
“Could be a human also,” I answered. “Someone crazy. A serial killer who can use magic maybe? That would fit the bill.” Faris made a sound in his throat and I frowned at him. “What? You don’t think so?”
Faris watched me from under his glasses. “Magical viruses are rare, and only the very powerful can conjure up something like that. According to the human news, it’s been contained, but all twenty who were exposed are dead. It’s all over social media—”
“You were on my computer? It’s spell protected. How did you get past my charms?” Spell protection was our witch version of password protection.
A snicker came from the demon, pissing me off. “You call that spell protection? You need to work on that, Sammy baby. Even an imp can figure out your charmed password.”
“I will.” Damn right I would. I had a lot of personal stuff on my computer. Yes, I had the usual family pictures and finances, but I’d collected some of my own dark spells and incantations over the years, not to mention my list of Goetia demons and their progress reports. I had to keep tabs on them somewhere. It wasn’t top secret, but I didn’t like the idea of Faris messing around in my stuff.
“I don’t sleep,” said the demon as though I hadn’t interrupted him. “What else am I supposed to do with my time while you’re counting sheep? You won’t let me go out.”
“No,” I said quickly. The thought of Faris roaming around the city without a supervisor had my stomach jump-roping with my intestines.
“If you’d let me share your bed, I could lie next to you—”
“No,” I growled, my mood souring.
Amusement danced on his features. “You can tie my hands if you want. I love being tied up. Oh, please tie me up—”
“No.”
“Fine.” A smug smile curved his mouth. “I’d cross the humans off your list of suspects. A magical virus is too complicated for their tiny brains. He or she would have most probably infected themselves while doing the spell. Without demon blood to protect him or her, there’s no way a human could have conjured this—and lived to use it on others.”
He did have a point. “So that leaves demons.” I let out a breath. “Can you think of anyone with a giant grudge on the human population?”
“As of right now?” asked the demon. “Three thousand? Give or take a few hundred.”
“That’s just great, Faris.”
“What? You ask. I give.” A quirk came over his lips. “I can give you anything you want.”
I rolled my eyes. “If it is a demon, why leave the souls behind? I waited long enough. I didn’t see or sense any demons coming for them. Those were some really easy souls to take.”
Faris lolled his head to the side and swirled the contents of his drink. “That is a good point, my little witch.” His head snapped up. “If it’s not a demon. It must be a witch.”
Anger rushed back. “I just told you it wasn’t a witch,” I said incredulously. “Weren’t you listening?”
“Ninety percent certain, you said,” informed the demon, tapping his drink with his index finger. “My money’s on a witch—a witch that somehow got her hands on some naughty witchy books.”
I gave a small laugh. “She? You don’t know she’s a she.”
The demon shrugged. “It’s more exciting when I’m picturing our villain as a female in my head. Tall, fit, large perky breasts, small waist, muscular thighs, with an ass as tight as—”
“She’s naked?” God help me. I wanted to douse my head in a boiling cauldron right now.
“Sammy,” drawled the demon, looking at me like I was crazy. “The women in my mind are always naked.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “What am I going to do with you?”
The mid-demon flashed his teeth. “I have some ideas.” Faris lost his smile at the frown on my face. “Why are you getting so worked up? Only a few humans died. No skin off my muscular, hairless back.”
“So far,” I said. “They might strike again.”
“Yes.” The mid-demon took a sip of his drink, looking at me from the rim of his sunglasses. He watched me for a moment longer and made a disgruntled noise in his throat.
“What?” I asked, my irritation rising anew and sharpening my voice before I could control it.
“You seem to be more irritable than usual,” said the mid-demon, staring at me from the chair.
I stiffened. “Right. Like you know what my usual is.”
“It’s because Boy Scout stood you up, isn't it?” said the mid-demon, and heat rushed to my face. “It’s what’s gotten you all worked up. Why you keep checking your phone on the table there,” he added and I winced. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Faris leaned back. “You know what you need, Sammy, darling?”
“Faris,” I growled. “I swear, if I hear about sex or anything that has to do with sex—”
“You’ll what? Tie me up and beat me?” smiled the demon. “Oh. Please do, Mistress Sammy. Please tie me up,” he added, crossing his wrists together.
I shook my head. It was pointless to argue with him.
“You want to talk about it?” offered Faris after a moment. He gave me a sly smile before adding, “I’m a really good listener.”
A hundred thoughts sifted through me, but what came out was, “It’s not important.” Lies. Lies. Lies. Logan stood me up. I had to accept it and move on. The truth was I barely knew him, and maybe I’d read the signs wrong. Maybe he just wasn’t that into me. It wasn’t the end of the paranormal world. He was just a man, and I didn’t need a man to feel complete.
“What I’d really like to know is,” I said, wanting to change the subject and clear my head, “can this magical virus be transmitted to us? To the half-breeds?”
“Very good question.”
A clatter of wings beating caught my attention. Poe skydived down through the top open window of the third floor and landed with a soft plop on my working table. A folded piece of paper was secured in his beak.
The raven spit out the paper. “I’ve got something for you from the Dark Witch Court.”
I frowned, my temper throbbing on the edges of my forehead. “They can’t keep expecting me to do their dirty work. I’m not even officially working for them,” I said, my mood souring at the idea the Court thought they could abuse me again like this. “Besides. I don’t work for free. I need to eat.”
“Pile on the cookies, little lady,” said Poe. “‘Cause you’re gonna get fat with this.” The raven pushed the folded piece of paper with his beak. “It’s an advance check. Go on. Open it. I dare ya.”
I looked at the raven. “How’d you get this?” I picked up the piece of paper.
Poe looked away. “I intercepted the messenger pigeon on his way here. We exchanged a few words, and ultimately, he agreed I was the best bird to bring it to you,” he voiced with his chest puffed out proudly.
“I’m sure,” I deadpanned. “Seems like you’re developing a bromance with the neighborhood pigeon.” My mouth fell open as I stared at all the beautiful zeros next to the big fat number five. “Five grand. They must really be desperate. They’ve never paid me that much for a job before.”
“Maybe they feel bad about how things went down with old Darius,” commented the bird.
“He’s right,” agreed Faris, pointing a finger at the check. “That’s shame money.”
I pursed my lips. “I don’t care. They can keep sending me shame money as often as they want. This is enough to feed us all for six months.” I pocketed the check, my mood shifting to a lighter one. I gladly took their money and considered it a good sign. I smiled. At least my work life seemed to be getting off to a better start. If only my love life could follow.
“They want you to keep investigating this magical virus,” said Poe. “See if you can find out who’s doing it. And they want you to apprehend those responsible before they infect the whole city.”
“Piece of cake,” I said, knowing it was going to be a lot harder than I was pretending it to be.
“I’m guessing since you intercepted this check,” I said, not seeing any visible evidence of pigeon feathers on him this time, “that you’ll bring back my answer to the Dark Witch Court?” The raven nodded. “Well, you can tell them yes.” I was going to do it anyway. Might as well get a big-ass check for it. The Court didn’t have to know.
Poe stretched and cracked his right wing and then his left. “Later,” said the raven as he lowered his body and shifted his wings to prepare his kickoff as I’d watched him do countless times.
“Wait,” I called. “I’m going to Shadows Shrine to dig up everything I can on magical viruses.”
“Sounds great,” said the bird as he lowered himself again, ready to launch.
“Hang on. Aren’t you coming with me?” I asked, surprised at how dismissive the bird was. It was very unfamiliar-like of him. It was like he was itching to be elsewhere. What was happing to my raven?
Poe froze. He looked at Faris and then back at me. “Why? You’ve got your familiar. You don’t need me. Besides, I’ve got places I need to be.”
I crossed my arms. “Really? Where’s that? Are you stealing again? Poe? Poe!”
With a great beat of his wings, Poe took to the air, flew to the top of the room and disappeared through the open window.
“Damn bird,” I cursed and uncrossed my arms. “I should have gotten the cat.”
Faris snorted. “Cats are worse. And they have these tiny sharp claws that’ll rip your skin to shreds.” He clamped his mouth shut at my scowl. “Let him go,” said the mid-demon. “Besides, you don’t need him. You’ve got me, darling,” he added and spread his arms widely.
Great. I exhaled through my nose. I didn’t have time to worry about Poe now. I had a real job to do. I gave the mid-demon a look. Then I prayed silently to the Goddess that I wasn’t making a colossal mistake with him. But I had no other choice.
“Don’t make me regret this,” I warned.
“I’ll be on my best demon behavior,” he purred.
“That’s what I’m worried about. Drink up,” I told him, wanting to punch that eager smile off his face. “You and I are going to Shadows Shrine.”
CHAPTER 4
Shadows Shrine was exactly how it sounded—a dreary, dark, ice-prickling cold, cobweb-infested, mold-contaminated dungeon teeming with rats. Yup. It was awesome. And just how I liked my libraries.
Even better, it was located below Saint Paul’s Churchyard cemetery, between Church Street and Broadway in Lower Manhattan. You could only access the witch library with magic and through the secret entrance. I had both.
The late afternoon air was warm and thick with the scent of exhaust fumes, hot pavement, and roasted nuts. I walked down Church Street, boot heels clunking as I moved between human pedestrians with large shopping bags hanging from their hands. My heart thumped with excitement at the prospect of seeing the great library again, and the idea of my fingers shuffling through old, dark magical tomes had my skin prickling in anticipation. This wasn’t my first time, by far. I made an effort to go at least twice a year to Shadows Shrine. There was always something dark and dangerously evil to discover in one of the many old books. The hexes and spells would give even my Aunt Evanora a run for her broom.
