Bone Lantern Witch

by Kat Simons

  “That’s as good an excuse as any for you to tap out.”

  “But the demon, or demons, or whatever…they know me now. A demon came to my place of work looking for me by name. I can’t walk away.”

  She moved her toast to her egg plate, cut her omelet in half, put a chunk of it onto her toast plate, then pushed the smaller plate over to Sebastian. He smiled down at the food.

  “A demon knows how to find me,” she said, pulling him back to the conversation. “That puts everyone I know in danger. I have to finish this.”

  With a very faint nod, he dug into the food, not arguing with her anymore.

  They ate in silence, and when his burger arrived, he cut it in half and they shared that too—her with lots of spicy mustard added. He sinned against burgers by adding mayonnaise to his half.

  When she was down to her last few French fries and her stomach finally felt satisfied, she spoke again. “What now?”

  “Now, you need sleep or you won’t be any good to me.”

  She made a face but didn’t argue. She was exhausted. Though she often stayed up late into the night, the night that had been in it had drained her. Having a full belly wasn’t helping.

  “I’ll make sure you get home without a demon following,” he finished.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Where are you staying?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “You need sleep, too. I know you big bad demon hunters can do without if needs be, but you’ll be better off if you sleep while you can.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not going hunting again tonight? Do you have to?”

  “No. Everyone has settled for the night as far as I can tell.”

  Which meant his instincts weren’t driving him to a specific location to prevent disaster. Nothing was about to break free onto this realm. Although, given the number of near misses today, she was starting to wonder about his instincts.

  “You didn’t know Mara was summoning a demon until we were at the apartment complex,” she said, slowly, the realization finally sinking in. “Or you would have known where to find her without me scrying. Which meant her demon was under control. She’s only twelve. That’s some serious will. An Anchor demon is no small beast to manage.”

  He nodded. “I noticed.”

  “Did you notice the physical line in the circle after she’d cut it? The one that showed up in the ash of her containment circle?”

  He raised his brows a little. “I missed it. What did you see?”

  “When she cut the circle with her athame, and it died down, there was a blank line right through the circle with no ash or anything. A very very distinctive cut through the circle.”

  “That doesn’t usually manifest in the physical world,” he said.

  “My thought exactly.”

  She worked with magic circles all the time. They were an important part of both her magic and her theology. And according to her first mentor back in Albuquerque, Angie had a significant amount of magic she still hadn’t tapped—Angie suspected this was Esmeralda’s way of nagging her into more training. But even with the training she had, and the magic, and the amount of time she’d spent setting and cutting magical circles, she’d never once had one show the cut in the physical world if she didn’t make the cut in the physical world. A line she’d physically smudged through a circle of salt was one thing. The mystical cut…that didn’t manifest anywhere but the mind of the person who set and broke the circle.

  “Could she have physically drawn a line through the circle while you weren’t looking?” Sebastian asked. “She was cautious in the way she broke the connection.”

  “A smudged line through ash shows…smudging,” Angie said. “Smears of black and even the imprint of a shoe. The basement was dark, but I still saw a very clean, very non-smeared cut in the ash. She didn’t just drag her foot over the line to make sure it was inactive.”

  “Like you did,” he said.

  “You saw that?” She’d thought she’d been more subtle about it.

  “I like that you’re cautious.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Not cautious enough.” Not where he was concerned. She’d never been cautious enough with him, and that had landed her into more trouble than she cared to think about.

  She held her tongue by gulping down the rest of her lukewarm tea. She grimaced a little at the taste—too sweet and cool for her now. Sebastian didn’t even try to hide his grin. He raised a finger and the waiter returned. She should go home and sleep. But instead of asking for the check, she ordered another cup of tea. So did Sebastian.

  “What do you think it means that Mara’s athame cut showed up in this realm?” he asked once they were alone again.

  “I thought at first maybe she was coming into powers of her own. I didn’t sense any magic in her in her room. But sometimes puberty brings these things on.”

  “At first?”

  “After finding out the apartment complex was designed specifically to make summoning demons easier, I thought maybe that was the real reason. Something about the place makes setting and breaking the containment circles easier?”

  He frowned a little and his gaze turned inward. She waited him out, sweetening her tea when the waiter returned with fresh mugs of hot water. The waiter cleared the table while he was there, leaving them with just the two mugs between them and the check discretely placed at the edge of the table with two soft mints on top of it. She plopped one of the soft mints into her mouth—she loved them enough to steal both if Sebastian ignored his for too long—and watched Sebastian think.

  That was always fascinating. In fact, she enjoyed watching him do anything a little too much. She finally dropped her gaze, afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop watching him if she didn’t now.

  He’d never answered her question about what he’d do once they left the diner. In those first few months, after she’d tried to leave, after she’d moved to New York to escape demon hunting and to put distance between her and Sebastian, when he’d come looking for her, drawing her back into the mix… In those months, she’d brought him back to her place. And she’d missed him too much to make him sleep on the couch.

  She glanced up from beneath her lashes. Eighteen months hadn’t changed that part at all. She still missed him too much to make him sleep on the couch. And that’s what worried her.

  She was a little worried she’d always miss him too much.

  Over the months of peace and quiet, she’d wondered, more than once, if they could manage to be together while she stayed out of the demon hunting part of his life. When she’d left, she’d known better. A part of her still knew better. But lonely nights had her wondering, and plotting ways they could manage it.

  Esmeralda would have told her to spend more time studying her witchcraft, less time brooding over a lost love.

  She smiled a little and sipped her tea, hot enough to burn the roof of her mouth. After the lukewarm gulp of her last cup, that was a significant improvement.

  Sebastian finally looked up, blinking his way back into the present moment. “I’ll do some research on the building complex tonight. I’ve never heard of what you described happening without the human summoner having magic of their own.”

  “Which means Mara might be coming into latent powers. Maybe that’s what’s changed? Why Grant and his demon are after her and Ellen now?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe your other theory is correct and the complex makes these things simpler. I’ll research, see if I can eliminate any possibilities.”

  “You need to sleep sometime,” she reminded him.

  “I’ll sleep after I’ve looked into the building complex and its architect.”

  She lowered her chin and gave him a look.

  He grinned. “I promise.”

  Oh, that grin. She sighed. “Fine. Where?” Time to be blunt. She couldn’t invite him to her place this time. She couldn’t. Because all the old feelings, all the old…habits would take over.
Her heart thumped a little harder as she waited for his answer. Anticipation? Anxiety?

  Fear?

  “I’m not asking to come back to your place this time, Ang,” he said quietly. “That always leads us…backward.”

  “I’m not inviting you to my place for the same reason. That doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.”

  His fingers flexed against his tea mug. “I’ll get a hotel room.”

  “Last minute? It’ll be a dump.”

  He grinned again and her heart thumped harder again, and now it was her turn to hold her mug tighter so she didn’t reach for him.

  “I’ve slept in dumps before, but I may treat myself to something fancier this time. Being in New York and all. Maybe the Waldorf?” He wagged his eyebrows.

  She tried to smirk and roll her eyes. What she really wanted to do was pull his face close and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “And I’ll be in touch tomorrow. What time are you done with work?”

  “I see my last client at seven. I’ll be done by eight.”

  “I’ll meet you at Dana’s at eight.” His expression turned serious. “Stay safe until then. I know why I can’t…” He pressed his lips together, cleared his throat, and said instead, “Ward your apartment. Since I won’t be there to watch over you. There’s a demon out there with your name on its lips.”

  She nodded. She always warded her apartment anyway—because working with a demon hunter had left her with a habit for cautiousness that she’d never dropped.

  “Don’t talk to strangers,” he added. “And don’t touch any strange books.”

  She snorted. “I know better how to take care of my psychic health than you do.”

  They swung past Dana’s on the way to her apartment so they could retrieve the demon library books they’d left in her locker. He stayed close to her the entire time, a warm hand on her lower back when she gave the counter where the demon had talked to Laura a wide berth. He even took the trash bag with the books out of her locker so she wouldn’t have to touch it.

  Then he walked her home, ensuring she was inside her building before leaving to finish his own last errands.

  And despite all her talk, it took willpower she didn’t know she had not to call him back.

  Willpower to go upstairs to her quiet apartment alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sebastian was waiting for her on the first level of Dana’s at exactly eight the next evening. She’d come down right after her client left, just to check. He leaned against the counter talking with Laura—and Laura looked utterly charmed.

  “You haven’t been waiting long?” Angie asked.

  His gaze swept over her and he flashed that killer grin of his. “I find your witchy uniform very sexy, you know.”

  “That’s because you’re a bit of a pervert,” she said, even as her tummy danced in delighted little loops of anticipation.

  He laughed and those giddy tummy flips got worse. Goddess, he looked delicious. He must be doing that on purpose. Nothing a hunter did was on accident. And she should be mad at him for it. But she was too busy feeling all tingly and needy from the sound of his laugh.

  “Are you going out tonight like that or do you need to change?” He nodded to her flowing, black velvet skirt, speckled with stars and moons.

  She actually loved wearing this skirt for work because the material was so soft. If she had to wear a uniform, there could be worse options. She jingled with the extra jewelry she wore at her ankles and around her neck. Her red peasant shirt hung a little low on her shoulders, the billowing sleeves bunching at her wrists so she hadn’t added additional bracelets. And the sleeves hid the pentagram bracelet she never took off. She still wore her favorite moon earrings. And her hair was pulled back by two silver hair combs covered in Celtic knots.

  She didn’t feel particularly sexy in this uniform. She felt silly sometimes, dressing up like a “witch” for clients. She would never begrudge the pagans who loved this style their freedom to indulge it. But it wasn’t her personal aesthetic.

  The fact that Sebastian had always found this look sexy on her did, occasionally, have her rethinking her personal aesthetic, though.

  “I’m going back up to change,” she said defiantly. “Occupy yourself for a few more minutes. I won’t be long.”

  Behind his back, Laura widened her eyes at Angie and fanned herself.

  Angie ignored her.

  But she did wonder why Sebastian was letting Laura see him as himself and not some innocuous guy just hanging out. Since he knew Laura saw auras, maybe he just wasn’t bothered wasting his willpower on her—he could disguise his aura of course; it just took more effort. With a demon on the loose, appearing harmless and ordinary for Laura did seem like a waste of his will.

  Angie was back downstairs in fifteen minutes, her overlarge purse slung over her shoulder, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt under her short jacket—her street clothes—with two cups of tea in to-go cups in hand. Sebastian stood to one side of the check out desk while Laura dealt with a customer.

  He smiled at the cups. “If those are both for you, I’m going to be disappointed.”

  “I was tempted.” She handed him one.

  He lifted the lid and pulled in a deep breath, savoring the scent. She’d gotten him the good stuff and ensured it was just as he liked it, dark and with just a drop of milk.

  “Thanks.” He raised the cup in a little solute before taking a long sip.

  She grinned and took a sip of her own brew, sweet and milky, before asking, “So now what?”

  “Did you sleep?”

  “Eventually.” She’d stayed up for an hour after getting home, doing a little research of her own. Though she’d been determined to leave the demon world behind, she’d still managed to build up a small library of reference books—books she kept hidden in the bottom of a wooden trunk in the back of her closet in the vain hope that she’d never need them.

  He held her gaze for a moment, then said, “Let’s walk and talk.”

  “Where to?”

  “Eventually, the Upper East Side and Grant’s house.”

  She pulled in a breath. “Is he…doing something tonight?”

  “Feels that way. We’ll see. But we have time.” He gestured her to proceed him out of the store.

  She waved goodnight to Laura as she left. Laura winked before returning to her customer.

  Outside, the autumn air was crisp and chilly. Angie buttoned her small jacket with one hand, adjusting her purse strap across her chest. “Which way?”

  He motioned to the left. They wandered randomly through the Village’s narrow, twisty streets, moving in a generally uptown direction.

  “What did you learn?” he asked.

  The fact that he knew she’d stayed up doing research, that he still knew her so well, was less surprising than it should have been. “I wanted to see if a demon could still attack me psychically across the realms, or if it would have to be in this one to accomplish that.”

  “And?”

  “And it has to be in this realm, but it doesn’t have to be a freed demon.” She watched his expression as she spoke. He didn’t give any hint of what he was thinking, so she continued. “If it’s been blood bound with a human, it could ride their awareness while they’re moving around, affecting this realm even though they’re still technically in their own.”

  That wasn’t something that happened often. Only a very few specific kinds of demons could “ride” a human’s awareness that way. Not all of them. And their ability to affect this realm was limited when they did that. But riding a human’s awareness was the option that kept the human alive the longest because the demon wasn’t actually occupying the person’s body. Just…riding along in the background of a human’s mind.

  Most demons preferred to escape and run free through the human realm. But some…they were patient. And their plans more twisted.

  “Only certain demons can do that,” S
ebastian said.

  “A Molder demon is one of those kinds.”

  “And there’s a lot of blood bonding and blood sacrifice involved.”

  “We know whatever demon Grant has been dealing with is strong,” she said. “It pulled away the demon about to make a deal with Ellen that first time. You had to fight it off the second time she tried a summoning. It was a Molder demon that time, right?”

  “It was.”

  “This long term game, whatever it is, seems like just the kind of game a Molder demon would play.”

  Most demons were sadistic in their ways. All the blood and torture that appealed to them so much. But the Molder reached new heights and enjoyed psychological torture almost as much as it enjoyed blood and eating living beings.

  The fact that it most enjoyed the souls and bodies of its victims to be alive while it ate was a particularly gross part of its process.

  “It was about to break free of Ellen’s control when I arrived,” Sebastian said. “Which was why I showed up. I kept it from breaking free then. But it was going to. It wants into this realm physically, not just riding a human host.”

  “Long game. Because hunters do keep showing up.”

  “It killed one hunter already. And could have gotten out then.”

  She huffed. “I know. That’s still bugging me. Twice it could have escaped, or was about to escape. With you, it was forced back, but with the other hunter, it could have gotten freed. What’s keeping it confined to its own realm? It can’t just be that it doesn’t want to sacrifice its power to get here, because it’s trying to get free.”

  “Maybe it’s not,” Sebastian murmured.

  “What?”

  “Maybe it’s really not trying to break free.” He frowned a little, stepping behind her to let a pedestrian pass before moving up beside her again. “Maybe the humans calling it aren’t strong enough to contain it—which is why we hunters show up—but even if the human lost control, it wouldn’t step into this realm. Maybe it’s been riding human hosts on purpose, to tamper in this realm, but not enter it.”

  “But why?”

  “Have to ask the Molder demon.”