“What’s up?” Bobo asked, once they were all assembled. He was doing his best not to stare at Fiji, Lemuel noticed. And Fiji resolutely kept her face turned from him. It was sad to see trouble between them.
“I was kind of in the middle of something,” Fiji said. A couple of faces turned to her. Fiji had never sounded this snappish before.
Lemuel waited until they all were paying attention. It didn’t take long. “I just finished reading the translation of the text I hoped would explain what is happening here,” Lemuel said. “And I will tell you. Manfred has told me that Sylvester Ravenwing also has things to tell us.”
“What did you find, Lemuel?” Olivia asked. She was sitting on the edge of a wooden chair at least fifty years old.
“The creature buried under the crossroad is a demon, and he’s about to rise,” Lemuel said.
There was a long moment of silence.
“The demon’s been talking to me,” Fiji said.
Everyone else was frozen in place by this revelation. Finally, Quinn said, “Okay. Let’s hear about this. Maybe starting with Lemuel.”
“Crossroads have a lot of magical connotations,” Lemuel said. “Places to put magical sites, like cairns. Places to worship, places to bury suicides, places to execute criminals and to leave the bodies as warnings.”
“I think we’re all aware of the magic of crossroads,” Chuy said, and Joe placed a warning hand on Chuy’s shoulder.
“Not me,” Diederik said cheerfully.
Manfred cleared his throat. “Maybe I can shortcut this process. I think you’ve all met Sylvester, who’s taken over the Gas N Go. Sylvester has told me he’s my grandfather. It’s his father who’s buried out there.” Manfred jerked his head in the stoplight direction. “The demon. My great-grandfather.”
After another long, significant pause, Fiji got up and went over to the two. She looked down at Sylvester, whose dark eyes met hers with a sort of recognition, a kinship.
“You didn’t say anything when I came in the store?” she asked, because of that look. “You’ve had magical training.”
“I had to talk to Manfred first,” Sylvester said. “Yes, I studied shamanism with my people. I’ll need the skill. The time is close at hand. You say you’ve been hearing his voice?”
“Yes.”
“Demons love witches, for their power. They like to consume it,” Sylvester said, in a disturbing, matter-of-fact way. “But no mistake, you have the power to imprison him again. So he wants you on his side.”
“So this demon’s tried to pull people who don’t like me to the circle, and get them to kill themselves, to make me believe he’s on my side. A demon has been talking to me,” she said slowly, as if this were the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Maybe it was.
Sylvester nodded.
“Your father is a full demon?” said an echoing voice.
Everyone jumped, and they all looked around for the source of the voice.
“It’s Joe,” Diederik whispered. “His wings are back.”
Chuy’s were, too. The two men were standing in a haze of light, and they had drawn swords, and their wings reached almost to the ceiling.
“Yes,” Sylvester said. “I helped to imprison him. His name is Colconnar.”
“Don’t speak his name,” Chuy said, his voice echoing like Joe’s. “It’s an abomination.”
The Rev stood, too. The scrawny old man looked terrifying. “Brothers,” he said. “We all stand together this night.”
Olivia ducked her head. She whispered, “Wow.”
“Joe and Chuy, your presence is glorious,” said Lemuel. “But Col—the demon’s return to earth is a crisis we can forestall with Sylvester’s help.”
The swords gradually vanished, but the outline of the wings remained. Sylvester went down on one knee before the angels to show respect and then sat. He nodded at Lemuel as if to give the vampire the floor.
“Before Christine so justly passed away, she completed the translation. I’m glad I obtained her services, since we have only a few days to spare.” Now Lemuel was satisfied he had everyone’s complete attention.
“The witch who sent Sylvester away gave a full account of the ritual, and Arria Auclina recorded her words. We all have a part to play,” Lemuel began. “And I will ask each of you to do a few things. But if we don’t do this together, we will die. And we will just be the beginning of the death.”
Olivia took in a deep breath through her nose. “That’s an incentive,” she muttered.
Lemuel continued, “The witch then was a powerful virgin. I know that seems unlikely, but it was the case. She accepted the role of bait in luring the demon to the circle. The circle was drawn in salt and ash, and it was very large.”
“We’re going to be busy,” Diederik whispered to Quinn.
“All the people the witch assembled had a part to play,” Lemuel said. “And I don’t think it’s any coincidence that this crowd echoes that one. There were angels, psychics, vampires, shapeshifters. Men and women who were brave enough to face a demon. They all focused their beliefs and what magic they had on the witch, who was powerful in and of herself. This girl was stuffed with magic in every orifice by the time the shaman started the summoning. Colconnar manifested with a roar, determined to have sex with the witch and then eat her. He never wasted part of a human.”
Everyone in the room looked as though they had something to say, but Lemuel motioned them all to be silent so he could finish his story.
“Colconnar emerged from his realm in the circle where the witch was waiting, but instead of permitting him to have sex with her, the group threw a magic net over him, imprisoning him in our world. He was sealed in the circle. Then a shaman had sex with the virgin witch on top of his prison, sealing Colconnar in the earth with virgin blood. That magic was strong enough to keep the demon buried for two hundred fifty years. But now he stirs. And we have to reenact the ritual to rebind him.”
There was a long silence.
“Is there a virgin in Midnight?” the Rev said. “I am not one.” His gaze went to Diederik. The boy turned red and shook his head.
“Me, neither,” he said.
They all exchanged glances, but it was so evident that Lemuel, Olivia, Quinn, Bobo, Joe, and Chuy did not qualify that everyone looked hopefully at Manfred. Manfred said, “Sorry, not in the club.”
“Um,” said Fiji.
All eyes went to the witch.
“I appreciate your assumption that I couldn’t possibly be, ah, untapped. But actually, technically, I am. A virgin.” She couldn’t have been more embarrassed if she’d said she was a shoplifter or an embezzler.
Sylvester nodded happily, but everyone else was clearly flabbergasted.
“Unbreached,” Lemuel said, as if he could not quite believe she understood what “virgin” meant.
Fiji nodded, her lips pressed in a grim line and her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Well, damn,” said Quinn as if he were having a very pleasant fantasy.
Bobo stared at her, but she did not see him.
“Sooooo . . . what does this mean she has to do?” Manfred asked.
Lemuel said, “The moon is waning, and it is also very close to Halloween, Samhain. A very powerful day. But since Fiji has her annual party, we have to think of a way to seal off the town so no bystanders will become involved. Also, we have to draw a magic circle of large dimension that includes the crossroad, and that circle must be reinforced with . . .” He bent to look at the translation again.
“Salt and ash. Hawthorn, probably. We can find it here,” Fiji said. She still avoided looking at anyone else. “I’ve got bulk salt from Sam’s Club.”
“Thank you, Fiji.”
“Yay, a modern twist,” Olivia muttered.
“Once the magic circle is drawn, one of us—not you, Olivia�
��must enter it with Fiji before it’s activated. The rest of us must focus our own power and magic and will on the circle. The one inside it with Fiji must join with her just as the demon emerges, so Fiji’s virgin blood will reinforce the spell.”
“The suicides will stop,” Chuy said with some relief.
“Yes,” said Lemuel. “Maybe some of you didn’t know this, but the Rev and I have been disposing of animal bodies every morning. Since the humans haven’t been coming, the animals have. They simply die on top of him. He’s getting their essence, and it’s strengthening him.”
“As much as people?” Bobo asked.
“I think Fiji has been turning all her will to keeping people away,” Lemuel said. “Is it not so?”
Fiji nodded. A tear ran down her face. “When I realized that most of the people he was pulling in were people who hadn’t thought good thoughts about me, or who’d actively tried to do me harm, in Price’s case, I cleansed myself of bad intent over and over. Especially after I punished Teacher for searching my house. I was scared he’d be next. Then the animals started. But that was better than the people.”
Lemuel had a hard time looking compassionate, but he did his best. “The demon fears you and he hates you, but he must not have you. If he does, it’s the end of Midnight.”
“We would all be honored,” Sylvester said abruptly. Fiji looked directly at him, surprised. “To be chosen to enter the circle with you,” he explained.
Fiji appeared to be completely flustered by all this attention and Sylvester’s obviously sincere compliment. “How will you pick?” she asked in a choked voice. “I mean, is it a magic thing, or can I . . . ?”
And then they all fell self-consciously silent as every man in the room wondered if he would be the one in the circle with Fiji.
“You can, my dear,” Lemuel said. “But I am out of the running, as wonderful as I’m sure the experience would be. The Rev and Fiji already know that Olivia and I are hitched.”
This was another stunning piece of news.
“And the hits just keep on coming,” Quinn muttered.
Joe said, “Blessings on your union.”
“This is turning out to be a completely amazing evening,” Manfred said, and no one contradicted him.
“So, how will you pick?” Diederik asked Fiji. The boy was wide-eyed and smiling, delighted to be a man in the running for Fiji’s big evening.
Quinn said, “Son, tone it down. This is not a date to the prom.”
Suddenly, Fiji turned her back on all of them, and from the way her shoulders were shaking, Lemuel was sure she was crying.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Joe said. “And for the record, either Chuy or I can perform this act for you, Fiji, and it would be an honor and a privilege—though one that would be appreciated more by another man.”
“Thanks,” Fiji said, her voice muffled. “Can we talk about this later? I’ve had as much as I can stand. I know there isn’t much time. But a little later.”
Everyone trailed out, except for Lemuel. Olivia went downstairs to her apartment, Bobo went upstairs to his after a long hesitation, and Fiji finally uncovered her face and turned to face Lemuel.
She was laughing. “Lemuel, my heart is broken,” she said, trying to sound serious. “You alone will not have sex with me? Even the gay guys would do the deed. But not you.”
Lemuel said, “Well, darn, Fiji, if you really want me . . .” But he was smiling, too.
“You know, friend, I really don’t,” she said, and laughed even harder. She sat on the nearest chair and fanned her face with the apron. “And I thought the most exciting thing that might happen this evening was finally getting the truth-and-candor spell to work. I certainly didn’t need it tonight.” She wheezed for a second more, and then sobered up.
“I am sure the prospect is daunting,” Lemuel said, feeling his way. He was not sure what to say to a woman who’d just gotten the news that the first sex she was to have would be public. And if the ritual didn’t work (for any reason), a demon would rape her and eat her. A woman who still had dried tear tracks on her face, and yet had laughed until she bent over with it. Lemuel was proud to know her.
“No shit,” she said. “‘Daunting’ is the word. And you know what my first thought was? I wondered if I could lose twenty pounds by Saturday.”
“You look very nice,” Lemuel said, puzzled. “You are a fine figure of a woman, Fiji.” He was quite sincere, and he was at a loss when he saw that she raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Of course I am, that’s why so many men are knocking at my door,” she said.
Lemuel had no trouble understanding her this time. That voice was bitter.
“What do you expect in a town the size of Midnight? There is only one man you want at your door, Fiji, and I think he realizes that he should have been there months ago.”
“So where is he now, Lemuel?” she said, getting up.
“I think he is upstairs as you told him to be. I think he is berating himself for not having rid you of your virginity very privately and long ago.”
“Oh,” she said blankly. “Well, that would be something he should tell me. No one else. But I thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
“You are welcome,” Lemuel said. “You are a strong woman, Miss Fiji, and I respect you.”
“Ahhhhh . . . thanks,” the witch said, a little doubtfully, and with no more ado she left for her house. She was neither crying nor laughing, but she was deep in thought. Lemuel thought that might be worse.
27
Back in her own kitchen, blessedly alone, Fiji slumped at her kitchen table, the spell she’d been working on abandoned before her. Her spell bowl was full of odd ingredients, and she’d been rapt in her work until she’d gotten the phone call to go over to the pawnshop . . . and the absurdity of being a virgin in this place and at this moment had come back to bite her in the butt. Maybe literally.
Now that she’d had a little laugh at the absurdity of her situation, she was bleakly aware this was one of the worst days of her life.
After she did a quick riffle through bad-day memories, she revised her evaluation.
This was the worst day.
Not only to have her virginity common knowledge—but to be required to have public sex to stop the end of the world as she knew it.
“All right,” she said out loud. “Let’s pretend I don’t feel this is all about me.”
“Something you want to talk about?” Mr. Snuggly said from somewhere under the table.
“Yes,” she said simply. The cat emerged from his hiding place and jumped up onto the other kitchen chair, then to the table. He looked at her expectantly. “Get on with it,” Mr. Snuggly said. “I can’t read your mind, even if I wanted to.”
Fiji explained.
She had to go over some points a couple of times, because Mr. Snuggly did not understand why it was embarrassing for a human to have sex in front of other humans. He also did not understand why she cared who saw her body. “It’s only a vehicle,” he said, clearly puzzled. “You just ride around in it.”
“Well, true enough,” she said, “but I sure need to take my vehicle in to the shop and get some dings hammered out.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” the cat said. He seemed to be digging around for something nice to say. “You’re soft and warm,” he said. “You smell pretty good. You would look nice carrying cubs.”
“Oh my goddess,” she said, letting her head fall to the table with a dramatic thunk. “What if I get pregnant?”
“You would have to spend a lot of time with a baby,” Mr. Snuggly said, looking much less pleased. “You might forget to feed me.”
“How could I forget?” she said, raising her head to cast a baleful eye at the cat. “You remind me often enough.”
Mr. Snuggly looked off into the distance
regally. After a moment, he abandoned the pose and asked, “Will you need me for the ceremony?”
“I’d think, as my familiar, you’d definitely better be there. You boost my power.”
Mr. Snuggly looked as pleased as a cat can look. “I can’t transform into a big man,” the cat said. “So I’m afraid I can’t help with the sex thing.”
Fiji thought she’d thrown up in her mouth a little bit at the idea of Mr. Snuggly becoming a man to have sex with her. “Thanks, anyway,” she said in a strained voice. “I have some candidates.”
“Splendid,” Mr. Snuggly said. “Will they draw straws for the honor?”
Fiji glared at him. “You’re being a jerk, Snug.”
The cat looked bored.
After a second, her anger collapsed under the weight of her worry. “What would Aunt Mildred have done?” she asked Mr. Snuggly.
He looked somewhat more interested. “Mildred would have used a spell to determine the right sperm donor,” he said, after some thought.
“What about her personal preference?” Fiji looked away as she asked.
“That would have been interesting to know. I think, though, that the spell would have been her choice. Mildred was not a hot-blooded woman. She did not think highly of humans who let their lust get the better of their judgment.”
“Not helpful,” Fiji muttered.
“Oh? Did you want me to tell you to follow your heart? In that case, just call the blond hunk across the road and tell him he’s the one.”
“He’s a nice guy,” Fiji said defensively, knowing that the words were inadequate.
“That’s what you should go for, then. A nice guy.” Mr. Snuggly’s words dripped with sarcasm. He lifted a leg and bent to clean his butt.
“There’s nothing wrong with a nice guy,” Fiji said, in a voice that was almost a snarl.
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