Bone Lantern Witch

by Kat Simons

  “There are bad witches?” Mara asked.

  Angie’s mouth tilted up a little. “Just like there are good and bad people.”

  “Black magic?” Ellen said and asked.

  That was a trickier topic. “The popular idea of ‘black’ magic and ‘white’ magic is a little simplistic and doesn’t really accurately describe things. ‘Black’ magic isn’t necessarily evil, and ‘white’ magic isn’t necessarily good. But for the record, because so many people see black and white in those terms, that’s why I call myself a green witch. My particular brand of magic links heavily into nature and the natural world, so the term fits better anyway.”

  “Your magic links into the natural world and you live in New York City?” Ellen said skeptically.

  This time Angie grinned. “You’d be surprised how much nature a witch can find in this city.”

  “Central Park,” Mara said, as if that was obvious.

  Which, Angie supposed, it was.

  Ellen made a face at Mara’s attitude, but let that go. “So, what does all this mean for Mara?”

  “It might explain why Carmen is so interested in her.” Angie frowned. “At least, it might explain why she’s interested in training Mara now.” She faced Sebastian. “But Mara is only just now starting to come into her power. Carmen couldn’t have known about her, that this would happen, when she was a baby. Or before she was even born if she’s been working with Grant that long. Why protect Mara before this?”

  “The demon might have sensed it,” Sebastian said. “When Grant tried to sacrifice her, the demon might have sensed the magic. Their perceptions of time aren’t as strictly linear as ours.”

  “Could that be why the demon allowed Grant to live when he offered a child not of his blood to fulfill his bargain? Why Carmen continued to pose as the housekeeper for so long?”

  Sebastian raised his brows in answer. Not an absolute yes. But Angie felt the rightness in the statement. More pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

  “Are you telling me,” Ellen said slowly, “that the demon…planned all this? Getting me out of the way… Mara staying with Grant. Carmen essentially raising Mara. All of this was a plan?”

  “Demons are bastards that way,” Sebastian said into the heavy silence that followed Ellen’s statement.

  Angie glanced that the bone lantern, which Sebastian had covered over with the bag again. She met his gaze. “And if the demon can move into a witch’s body instead of just a mundane human’s…”

  “It would have powers beyond its own in this realm as well.” Sebastian sighed. “Well, that’s not good.”

  “No,” Ellen said. “No, it’s not! Are you telling me this demon wants to possess my child, my baby? And I left her in their hands this whole time?”

  Ellen was practically screeching by the last sentence.

  Angie didn’t know what to say to that. But everything was starting to make more sense. Why the demon waited until now to act. What had changed with Grant and his relationship with the demon. The only question was…

  Why had Carmen helped Mara get out of Grant’s house, if the plan had always been for the demon to possess Mara’s body once she came into her magic?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After getting Ellen calmed and promising to discuss magical mentors with Mara after they’d taken care of the demon, Angie and Sebastian left—warning Ellen not to take calls from Carmen or let her or the man she’d been working with into the apartment.

  Angie wanted to warn them against letting anyone into the apartment, or even leaving the apartment to do laundry, until she and Sebastian had stopped the demon. But since Carmen no longer had the bone lantern, Angie didn’t think the demon could move into a human host anymore. At least, not a stranger. She wasn’t certain if the beast could occupy Carmen or her associate still.

  So she asked Sebastian as they flagged down a taxi—no subways with a dangerous demon relic.

  He considered the question quietly for a few moments. “Depends on the rituals they used, but as far as I remember, using the lantern to establish the bond, to facilitate the possession, means the demon can’t possess them without it.”

  “Which was why Carmen was so desperate to get it back.”

  He nodded, lifted a hand without looking away from her, and a taxi speeding past screeched to a stopped, then did a U-turn to collect them. Angie smirked at him showing off.

  As he held the taxi door open for her, he said, “This is all guess work as the lantern is supposedly a myth. But even myths have rules written into them, and those are the rules of the bone lantern.”

  Sebastian had the driver take them to a restaurant in the Upper East Side, not far from Grant’s home.

  She gave him a questioning look but he mouthed, Later, and she let it go until they had some privacy.

  The ride took longer than Angie would have expected, given how late it was, but yet another accident caused a backup that left them crawling through crosstown traffic. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Angie’s anxiety levels had built so much she was fidgeting with her purse strap—though she wasn’t entirely sure why she was so anxious. They had the bone lantern, Carmen couldn’t use it. Ellen and Mara knew Carmen was a threat now. And Sebastian had bested the Molder demon once already tonight.

  True, she’d accidentally opened a portal to a demon realm, and Carmen may or may not know what she could do now. That wasn’t good. Carmen had gotten away, which wasn’t good either. Though there wasn’t a lot they could have done with her then anyway. They couldn’t turn her over to the police for summoning a demon. Anymore than they could turn Grant over.

  She stepped out onto the sidewalk as Sebastian paid for the taxi—she’d offered, but he waved her away and she was too jumpy to argue—and tried to pinpoint the source of her anxiety. She studied her surroundings. The restaurant was in the middle of a block, surrounded by bodegas, closed boutique stores, and a few other restaurants. She raised her brows at the still opened cupcake bakery across the street. That wouldn’t settle her nerves but a cupcake sounded almost as good as a shot of Tequila right about then.

  The street was quiet for New York, traffic stopped at a red light leaving the sound levels low and momentarily peaceful. The wind had kicked up, bringing the temperature down a bit more, hinting at winter cold. Two men stepped out of the restaurant behind her, and the scent of Italian food—garlic and olive oil and basil and tomatoes—followed them. The lovely smells made Angie’s stomach growl. Dinner felt like it had been a long time ago.

  Sebastian joined her and motioned her inside the restaurant. When he held the door for her, she chuckled. He was all old-fashioned manners and chivalry tonight.

  The restaurant wasn’t overflowing but many of the tables were full, even though it was quite late, well past even the late-night dinner rush. A man in a suit standing at the rear of the room talking with a woman in a chef’s coat motioned them to take whatever table they wanted. Sebastian led her to one tucked into a corner that still gave them a full view of the main floor, where he could sit with his back to a wall and watch the door, and she could sit with her back to a wall and watch the restaurant and kitchen area.

  They didn’t need to discuss where they sat or the arrangement. And the realization that they’d set themselves up to watch things while they ate without having to talk about it was both strangely satisfying and a little disconcerting given how long they’d been separated.

  Sebastian lifted his chin slightly and the man in the suit joined them to take their order. Angie ordered spaghetti with meat sauce. Sebastian got a carbonara dish. They didn’t speak much until after the waiter had brought them waters and a bread basket. Angie tore into the bread as she let her gaze roam the restaurant.

  “We’re only a few blocks from Grant’s house,” she murmured when they were alone. “Why here?”

  “We’ll have things to do there soon.”

  “He’s summoning tonight? Now?”

  “Not yet.
Soon, though, I’m afraid. We should still have time to eat.”

  “If… Why are you eating?” He didn’t usually eat right before a fight. But since he’d had one already tonight, maybe he needed the energy?

  “I find carbonara is settling.” He smiled a little. “But mostly it’s for you.”

  She raised her brows.

  “You know you were going to share it.”

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. He was right. She would have asked to share. She ripped open another piece of bread.

  “We should not bring that—” she nodded to the shopping bag he’d placed on the floor between his feet so he could keep in contact with it “—anywhere near Grant’s house.”

  “That’s why we’re here. Beyond feeding you.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  His soft grin made her heart flutter. That sensation was followed quickly by irritation when he changed the subject.

  “How are you feeling after the tree incident?”

  “Like crap because it was another mistake. But nothing got out, so that has to count.” She focused on her bread. “Thanks for distracting me and pulling my focus. That brush against my leg, that was your will.”

  “You needed help.”

  She sighed. “Where are we going to store the lantern?” He’d been very vague about that so far.

  “Someone will be here soon to take it,” he said.

  “What?” She straightened and met his gaze. This was news to her. He hadn’t called anyone to arrange a meeting here. “You said you wanted to wait to hand it over to someone until after we got rid of the demon. You said without it, the demon would have no reason to remain in its own realm.”

  “The situation has…changed.”

  Which meant between their fight in the trees outside of Ellen and Mara’s building and now, he’d sensed something he hadn’t told her about.

  “And you’re right about us keeping it away from Grant,” he continued without explain this change. “We can’t take it to this fight. It’ll be safer with the person coming.”

  “Who? Who’s coming?”

  “A…hunter. She’ll take the lantern into custody, keep it well away from danger.”

  “Another hunter? She can help us fight the Molder demon.”

  “That’s not her job. She’s just coming to take the lantern.”

  “Not Aidan, then.”

  “Someone…else.”

  Angie frowned. He wasn’t telling her something about this hunter. And she had the feeling whatever he was leaving unsaid was pretty damned important. Their food arrived then so she bided her time, waiting for privacy again, before saying, “Who the hell is this someone else? How do they know to meet us here since you didn’t contact anyone? And why are you hesitating over who they are? Don’t lie to me, Sebastian. Not now.”

  She remember his slip earlier, his mention of a council. He’d threatened to hand over the lantern to the council if she thought about touching it. Was this something to do with that? Was that what had changed?

  “It’s complicated,” he said. “And something I’m not supposed to discuss with someone who isn’t a hunter.”

  “There’s things I don’t know about the hunters?” She’d worked with him for two years. She’d assumed she knew most of what there was to know about demon hunters.

  Obviously, she’d been wrong.

  Rather than answer, he pulled her plate close to his and scooped most of his linguine onto her plate, spooning over extra sauce. She narrowed her eyes at him as he worked, waiting for his answer. When he pushed her now overloaded plate back to her, she pulled it close and started eating without taking her gaze off him.

  He sighed. “I can’t explain, Angie. I’m not allowed.”

  “How can you keep a secret from me about this? After all this time.”

  “You aren’t a hunter. Even when we were working together, you kept insisting you weren’t a hunter.”

  “I’m not.”

  “And I respect that choice and decision. It’s not a job for everyone.”

  “If you respect my decision, you wouldn’t keep coming back and dragging me into the demon world,” she snapped.

  He focused on his plate when he said, “I tried. I did honestly try.” He looked up and his expression was carefully neutral. “In this world or not, you’re not technically a hunter. So there are things you can’t be told.” He pressed his lips together in a tight line before saying, “I would have, if I was allowed. But you weren’t a hunter. And I was…reminded repeatedly that until you accepted being a demon hunter, I had to keep certain secrets.”

  “Reminded by who? Aidan?”

  “Yes. But she wasn’t the only one.”

  “This person we’re meeting tonight?” Angie ate another forkful of her spaghetti. It was delicious and tomato-y and had just the right amount of garlic and parmesan cheese. And she could barely enjoy it because her gut was churning with anger.

  More anger than she should feel. Everything he said was right. She’d refused to accept the role as hunter. Even working with him, she’d refused that role. She’d been backup. Support. The one who could aid by opening a portal. And always, always a witch. Witchcraft was her calling. Nothing else. And she’d continued to insist on that distinction throughout their time together.

  So why did she resent his keeping secrets so much now? He had a right to them. Especially if they had to do with his work. They weren’t even a couple anymore. She had no real right to all his secrets.

  That didn’t seem to prevent the hurt tightening in her chest.

  He didn’t respond to her last question, just held her gaze. She couldn’t read anything there. He’d shut down any hint of expression. And looking at him that way hurt as much as knowing he’d kept things from her.

  She looked down at her plate and concentrated on eating so she could talk herself out of the hurt and anger. She didn’t have the right to them, not now. She had to let it go.

  They remained silent, him picking at what was left of his linguine, her shoveling in mouthfuls of pasta, until most of their meal was done. She still wasn’t feeling great about this new bit of knowledge, but she pulled in a deep breath, prepared to talk again.

  Only to be interrupted by a quiet throat-clearing. She looked up, expecting to see the waiter.

  But it wasn’t the waiter.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The woman standing beside their table was not particularly tall, but not short either. She felt average in height and build. A little thicker through the middle, with narrow hips and shoulders. But, overall, unremarkable proportions. Her hair was a steel gray color, pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck. Her light tan skin showed a few lines around her dark brown eyes and mouth. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, giving the impression of disapproval without having to say anything. She was dressed in black slacks and a long black wool coat, her hands tucked into the pockets. And she looked, for all the world, like a perfectly ordinary New Yorker.

  If not for the faint red in the depths of her brown eyes, Angie might have been fooled into thinking this wasn’t the hunter they’d been expecting.

  “You got here fast,” Sebastian said.

  “I was in the area,” the woman replied. Her voice was smoky and deep. A rival for Angie’s own deeper octaves. And there was a very very faint accent, a sort of posh turning of the vowels, but Angie couldn’t place it.

  “Been in the area long?” Sebastian asked.

  Angie glanced at him. There wasn’t much in his tone to give away his emotions but there was a tightness around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes, a subtle sign of tension. Though a casual observer might not notice, she was very aware of the way he held his body with a kind of coiled intensity, ready to strike.

  The fact that he held that much tension around another hunter was…interesting.

  She narrowed her eyes at the newcomer, wondering who she was exactly.

  “Long enough,” th
e woman replied. She flicked a glance at Angie. “Is everything…settled?”

  “I need you to take this into safe keeping,” Sebastian said, ignoring her question. He handed the woman the bag with the lantern in it.

  The woman took the handles of the reusable shopping bag and glanced inside without revealing the contents to the restaurant. Her dark brows arched higher, the only sign of emotion.

  She closed the bag again and let her arms drop back to her sides, holding the bag as casually as if it carried nothing more serious than some groceries.

  “That’s a rare artifact,” she said.

  “And dangerous.”

  “You think you need to warn me?”

  “It’s been part of the Grant situation.”

  “Ah.” The woman blinked. “Grant had it?”

  “No. A woman working in his house. Carmen Ruiz.”

  Angie’s turn to blink. She hadn’t realized Sebastian had gotten Carmen’s last name.

  “She’s working with another man,” Sebastian continued. “The Molder demon has occupied him at least once that we know of.”

  “There’s more?” the woman asked.

  “For later.”

  She flicked another glance at Angie. “This needs to be settled.”

  Angie frowned. This meaning the situation with Grant and Carmen? Or something else? The way the woman kept giving her fleeting glares, it was hard to tell.

  She wanted to demand an introduction, an explanation to the underlying conversation they were having. Instead, she scooped up the last of her spaghetti and ate it. If they weren’t going to make introductions, she could pretend not to be involved or interested. All the better to observe them.

  “We’re done for now,” Sebastian said.

  And again, Angie wondered if there was more meaning to those words.

  “This can’t be left hanging, Sebastian. You know that. She must—” The woman’s nostrils flared as she cut herself off.