Hell's Spells (Ordinary Magic Book 6)

by Devon Monk

  “No. I volunteered to be Warden of Ordinary because you were trying to bully Delaney into letting you rule the town. That’s it. Full stop. As far as I’m concerned, being a Warden means being an impartial witness and observer of good contracts. To make sure people inside Ordinary are being treated fairly, no matter who tries to boss them around.”

  “Stop.”

  Ryder sucked in a breath and made a little choking sound. I eased forward just enough to see what was happening.

  Mithra looked the same as I’d last seen him: Salt and pepper hair that had never met a comb, tightly trimmed beard, buggy eyes, and flat, round face that reminded me of a pug.

  Instead of wearing tattered, cast-off clothing, he was in a black, wide-sleeved robe, symbols and power and words scrolling through the folds.

  Ryder’s back was to me, but I’d never seen him stand so stiffly.

  “I no longer care to hear your opinion, Mr. Bailey. Lift your right hand.”

  Ryder jerked, as if an invisible rope tied to his wrist suddenly pulled his arm up.

  “Lift your left foot.”

  Same jerking motion. And now his foot was sticking out in front of him at an awkward angle.

  “I am showing you mercy, Ryder Bailey. I do believe you and I can come to an agreement. But I demand your respect. Do you understand?”

  Ryder was silent.

  “I haven’t taken your voice this time, Mr. Bailey.”

  This time? I moved to step in, to get between them, to pick a fight with a god, but then Ryder spoke.

  “I understand. Let go.”

  Mithra flicked a finger. Everything about Ryder relaxed and went back to normal. His hand lowered, his foot lowered, and his shoulders squared.

  “I want out of the contract.”

  “You want something, I want something. But the contract between us isn’t what you called me out here for, is it?” Mithra said.

  “Yes, it’s the contract. I’m done being sent out like a dog on the hunt every damn day and every damn night. I’m done being your puppet.”

  “No, you called me here because of Delaney.”

  Ryder went silent.

  “I agreed to be your follower, Mithra, and I have been. I want out.”

  It was Mithra’s turn to be silent. “She wants more from you,” he said, as if this were something they’d been talking about. An old issue.

  “You don’t know her.”

  “I have been studying her family line since they first took guardianship of Ordinary. I do know her. She wants a commitment from you.”

  “And I want one from you. I want to break our contract.”

  “She wants you to marry her.”

  My heart tripped, then kicked so hard, I pressed my fist against my chest to hold it in place.

  Mithra was a god. He might know I was hiding behind the building.

  But because he was a god, I was betting he didn’t expect anyone to actually spy on him. Most deities thought themselves above such petty skullduggery, or didn’t care if it happened. We were all beneath their notice.

  “You don’t know Delaney.” Ryder’s voice was the roll of the ocean, strong, low. I pressed my palm against the building to keep from going to him, standing behind him. I’d had a lot of practice staring down gods. I wanted him to know I had his back.

  “I know her better than you want to admit,” Mithra said dismissively. “I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately.”

  “The contract,” Ryder said. “I’m here for our contract. If you refuse to talk about breaking it, then I’m leaving.”

  “You want to break the contract,” Mithra said, bored, like a predator playing with its food before swallowing it whole. “I want you to marry Delaney.”

  My heart stopped. The world zinged oddly as if every atom in the air had been hit with jumper cables, everything in that moment, a buzzing darkness with pinpoints of light.

  “You want me to marry Delaney.”

  “Yes. You assume I have nefarious plans for taking over Ordinary—”

  “—which you do,” Ryder said.

  “—but no matter my ultimate intentions, I also want what is best for you, Ryder Bailey. My loyal follower. Therefore, I want you to marry Delaney Reed.”

  This buzzing wasn’t much better, but I could see again, could breathe. I scanned the grassy area behind the store, stared at the sky where clouds scuffed the stars. I rubbed my fingers on the building. It was solid and hard and real.

  This was real. This was really happening. He had really said that.

  And then Ryder spoke. “No.”

  Mithra chuckled, and it was not kind. “I rule you. I own you. You will do as I command. And would it be such a hardship? You’ve been thinking about it for months.”

  “Fuck off.” Ryder’s voice was no longer the ocean. It was lightning. It was fire burning through steel. He was angry. Furious. “You don’t know my mind. You push me around like a puppet, shove my head under water until I’m gasping for air. I want our contract ended. My mind, my life is my own.”

  “Do you think so?” Mithra baited. “Then why haven’t you proposed to Delaney? Why haven’t you married her? You’ve had all this time. Why won’t you ask her?”

  “As long as I am under your command, I will never marry Delaney. Never.”

  Those words hammered, striking the steel around my heart, sparking embers before cracking through to pierce.

  Never. He would never marry me. Never.

  I knew truth when I heard it, had known him long enough to hear a lie in his voice. This wasn’t something he was saying for Mithra’s benefit. He didn’t want to be married.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I reminded myself that we had a pretty good thing going even without wedding rings. I wasn’t the kind of person who needed to be married to know I was loved. But it was the way he said it.

  It was that never. The anger in it, the hatred.

  I was cold, suddenly freezing. I shivered and sucked down air, my breathing gone choppy and shallow.

  Okay. Okay. So now I knew why he’d been gone so much. Mithra was running him ragged. Mithra was controlling him.

  I didn’t know why he hadn’t just told me, but I didn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to work that out.

  The only thought stabbing through the buzz in my ears was home. I needed to get home, needed to drive away, needed to be gone before Ryder found out I’d been spying on him.

  I moved quickly, trying not to kick the gravel, got into the Jeep. Spud’s tail was going strong, and just seeing his goofy, happy face set the center of me back in place again.

  The steel around my heart might be broken, but it was still there. I inhaled, exhaled. Settled my fingers on the steering wheel. Worse had happened to me in my life. I could deal with this.

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay. I got this. Okay. Just…we should go. Wanna go home, Spud? Let’s go home.”

  Spud positioned himself so he could look out the window, and I started the Jeep.

  I didn’t remember driving back to Ordinary, but when I got there, I didn’t want to go home. Not to mine, where a demon had decided to cast his stupid spell, and not to Ryder’s, because, pot on the window sill or not, I just didn’t have it in me to think about sunlight and water and patience.

  So it was maybe no surprise that I pulled up in front of a little aqua cottage that I’d only been to once.

  Spud was very interested in our stop, sniffing at the glass of the window as if there were a smell right outside the car that he really, really liked, but couldn’t quite get.

  “I should just go home.” I stared at the door. “Or over to Myra’s or Jean’s. Jean’s probably at Hogan’s. So Myra. I should go to Myra’s.”

  I had almost turned on the Jeep’s engine when the porch light flicked on and the door opened.

  A familiar tall, lean figure stood in that doorway, spider slippers akimbo.

  Than waited a moment, then moved sideways in that space, inviting
me in.

  I rested my head on the steering wheel for the count of three, ran through my options again—Myra would worry and mother me, Jean would worry and try to fix whatever was going on between Ryder and me—or Death.

  I chose Death.

  Than didn’t move as Spud and I got out of the vehicle and strolled up the walk. He just watched me, his dark eyes glittering, his face placid.

  I stopped on the front step. Spud wagged his tail excitedly, but stayed at my side because he was the bestest of good boys.

  “Can I stay here for the night?”

  Than blinked. Something crossed his face, some emotion, but I was too tired to try and figure it out.

  “You don’t have to say yes.”

  “Come in, Reed Daughter.” He waved at the interior of his house.

  “Spud too?”

  His gaze drifted down, and Spud instantly sat, whining and eager, tail swinging.

  “He is a ‘good boy’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then.” The hand again, the wave.

  We rushed into the house, Spud the happiest I’d seen him since the dragon pig had let him lay on its hoard of stuffed toys.

  Than wore striped pajama bottoms with a matching striped, button-up pajama shirt. The spider slippers looked even more alarmed than the last time I’d seen them.

  “Is this a business call?” he asked.

  “No.”

  That thing traveled across his face. Something like interest? Delight?

  “Then this is a social visit?”

  “Yes.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “Well, what’s left of it, yeah.”

  “Are you staying?”

  “I thought you said I could?”

  “Until morning, Reed Daughter.”

  “Delaney,” I automatically corrected. We were still standing in the front entryway, and his couch and the tidy throws draped across it were looking pretty appealing right now.

  “Since morning is only a few hours away, yes,” I said. “Until morning.”

  “I see,” he mused. Then he stilled. “This would be considered a sleepover?”

  That’s when my muddled brain clicked together the clues. The look of anticipation he quickly smothered, the gleam in his eye, the slightly elevated breathing.

  He was excited. This might even be what giddy looked like on him.

  “Maybe,” I hedged, trying to look stern. “Do you have hot cocoa?”

  “With pink mini-marshmallows.”

  “Then this, Than, is a sleepover.”

  He didn’t smile, but shifted his stance so quickly, the slipper spiders waggled their legs in panic. Than bowed slightly and extended his hand toward the interior of his home. “This way, Reed Daughter. I shall fetch a bottle to spin.”

  “We really don’t need a bottle.”

  “Oh?”

  “It takes more than two people to play that game.”

  “Ah.” He led me to the living room, gestured at the couches, then withdrew the controls for his media center from a side table drawer.

  “Instead, we shall have to gossip. I am sure we have many judgmental observations to share about people who are not here. Or I would assume you do.”

  “No, I don’t want to gossip.”

  He lifted one eyebrow and waited.

  “Tonight. I don’t want to gossip tonight. I don’t want to talk about anything. Or anyone.”

  “Not even Ryder Bailey?”

  I shook my head.

  He hmmmed.

  Gods. Sometimes they really did know what we humans were thinking.

  When I found the pillow next to me suddenly more interesting than his endless stare, he handed me the remote. “Choose a movie while I pop the corn and brew the hot cocoa beverage. Do you require leisure clothing?”

  “No,” I said quickly. I did not want to know what clothing he might think was appropriate for a sleepover. “I’ll just kick off my boots.”

  “Boots will be left at the door, please.” He walked out of the room. Spud scrambled to catch up to him, and when the dog matched his stride, Than’s long fingers found the back of his head and patted him softly.

  Spud moved in even closer, gluing himself to Than’s leg.

  I worked off my boots and left them by the door, then returned to the couch. I wasn’t really in the mood for a movie, but I scrolled through the selections anyway. When I found an old Danny Kaye I hadn’t seen in years, I queued it up.

  I checked my phone while the sound of popcorn popping drifted to me on buttery, salty whiffs. No texts from Ryder or anyone else, so I set the phone on the side table, curled my feet up under me, and dragged the throw from the back of the couch to my lap.

  “Here we are.”

  Than had a fancy serving tray that was probably real silver. On it he had placed two mugs filled to the brim with chocolate and extra-tiny marshmallows in a frothy pink foam, a large wooden bowl of popcorn, and two smaller matching bowls. There was also a little dish of strawberries, and another of chocolates that I assumed had raisins in the middle of them.

  He placed the tray on the table, then considered the empty chair, the space beside me on the couch, and to my very great surprise, chose the couch.

  He oh-so-casually drew the other throw off the back of the couch and placed it in his lap, exactly like mine, staring straight ahead at the screen where the movie was paused on the opening credits.

  Spud sniffed at the spider slippers, sniffed at the blanket, then sat and stared adoringly at Than.

  Than placed one hand on the cushion between us. That was all the invitation Spud needed. He hopped up, squooshing between the two of us. I thought he’d want to snuggle me, but he put his head on Than’s lap and sighed like he’d just found his favorite bed in the world.

  Than bent, gathering a mug of cocoa, a bowl of popcorn, and a strawberry for himself.

  He hadn’t said anything more, I hadn’t either, but the mix of cocoa and popcorn was too good to resist. I took a mug and a bowl and tried the cocoa first. It was delicious.

  “I see you’ve chosen a film?”

  “We don’t have to watch it,” I said.

  “Oh?” Than turned to me now. “Would you prefer other sleepover activities? Nail paints? Pillow forts? A mirror in which to call forth that bloody child Mary?”

  “You’ve really done your research on sleepovers.”

  “Becoming a part of Ordinary entails learning the local customs. Blending in.” He dipped his strawberry in the marshmallow foam and took a neat bite.

  I stuffed my face full of popcorn so I wouldn’t tell him that blending in was not his strong suit. He was trying. That counted.

  “Or, perhaps you would reconsider…gossip?”

  He sounded so hopeful, I laughed, spraying popcorn bits. I slapped my hand over my mouth, chewed, swallowed. “Sorry,” I choked out. “I never thought you’d want to talk trash about people.”

  “Shall we try it and find out?”

  “I don’t…no. I don’t think so. Hey, didn’t you have a cold yesterday?”

  “Apparently common viruses do not survive long in my presence. Would you like to talk instead about the hell spell that demon bound you with?”

  I scowled and crunched more popcorn. “You see that, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Bathin’s uncle.”

  “Yes.”

  “I stole the sweat of your brow for the spell. I didn’t know I was doing it, though. Because my stupid soul still has stupid holes in it.”

  He waved long fingers as if that wasn’t a conversation that interested him. “It is healing as it should. Where is he?”

  “Jail. The dragon pig’s watching him.”

  Spud lifted his head when I said dragon pig, looked around for his buddy, then settled his head down again, sighing.

  “I don’t recall the dragon being deputized.”

  I smiled a little at that. “Not that jail. It took him to t
he other jail.”

  Than put a piece of popcorn—just one—in his mouth and chewed while watching me. “Other jail.”

  “We have a…um…magic jail. For the people who need that type of containment. Honestly, we don’t use it very much, but Myra rigged it up for demons after that whole Bathin and Xtelle thing.”

  Another piece of popcorn, and still the intense focus. As if he expected me to say more, to spill the beans.

  “Ryder snuck out tonight.” I grimaced and corrected myself. “Mithra called him out of Ordinary. And I followed.”

  Two pieces of popcorn in those long thin fingers this time, deposited one at a time, plunk, plunk, in his mouth.

  “They met up at the Rose Market on Highway 18. Mithra was his normal asshole self. From what I heard, he’s been sending Ryder out to enforce obscure Oregon laws. Something about no spitting in Sheridan. Things like that.”

  Death picked up his mug, took a deep drink, then lifted it a bit, a suggestion that I, too, take a drink.

  So I did. It really was amazing. Than knew how to brew a fine hot cocoa beverage.

  “I thought Mithra was punishing him for something, but he’s enough of a jerk just to want to pull strings and watch Ryder dance. I was going to leave, to just…leave it at that, but then Mithra told Ryder he wanted him to marry me, and yeah. So, okay. That. And then I left.”

  I shoved popcorn in my mouth so I would stop talking. It tasted like packing Styrofoam. There was a stinging prickle at the back of my eyes. I would not cry. Not over a manipulative god who Ryder was doing his best to manage.

  Without me.

  Without even telling me.

  I will never marry her.

  Death twisted, and without disturbing Spud’s nap, plucked a tissue from the box by the lamp.

  “Did you spy on him long enough to hear his reply?”

  “I wasn’t spying.” I took the tissue. “Okay, I was spying.” I wiped at my eyes which should not be leaking, then took a big breath and let it out. “I feel so stupid. All of this. Just. Stupid.”

  “Mmmm.”

  I dropped my head back on the couch. “Spying on my boyfriend. Who does that?”

  “Would you like a list?”

  “No.” I rolled my head to meet his gaze. An awful lot of humor in those eyes. “Are you laughing at me?”