Charms & Demons

by Kim Richardson

  Dizzy, I stood for a moment, confused. I opened my eyes.

  I stood in the middle of a dark street and heard the sounds of cars off in the distance. I looked around and realized I knew this place. It was Mystic Quarter. I was... home.

  Only then did I realize I was still holding on to the little demon.

  I looked down at him, my heart thrashing in my chest as though I’d just run down the block. “You brought me home? How? How is this possible?” And why didn’t you bring me home sooner, I wanted to shout, though that sounded a little too ungrateful. Be nice to the little demon, I told myself, cause he might send your ass back.

  I stared at him with my mouth open. I’d never heard of a demon capable of jumping realities, jumping through worlds as though he could create his own Rifts. He created his own portal somehow, with his magic, and took me home. That, ladies and gents, is some serious magic.

  “That was truly impressive,” I said, a huge smile on my face, wondering if the food I’d given him was the reason his magic had resurfaced. I inspected him the way I might inspect a new spell. “You’re not a demon. Are you?”

  The tiny man’s blue eyes glittered brightly as his face crinkled in a smile.

  “I’m going to take that as a no,” I told him. “I don’t even know your name. But I thank you. Thank you, for bringing me home.” The wards, I realized. He’d scratched them all off.

  The little man slipped his hand from mine and said, “You’re welcome.”

  And with a pop, the tiny man vanished.

  26

  There’s nothing in the world more glorious than waking up in one’s own bed—except perhaps, sleeping in one’s own bed. Especially after having spent days sleeping in a cold metal cage in a world where the air was toxic. I felt like I was sleeping on puffy white clouds, and I never wanted to get up. But I had to.

  The first thing I did when I got home was hug my grandfather, whose face was drawn with worry. I gave Poe a big kiss on his head, thankful he was safe, and then jumped into a steaming-hot shower. A half-hour later, as soon as my head hit my pillow, I went to dreamland.

  I stretched, feeling better, but not completely healed and refreshed. The Netherworld had taken a lot from me, including my health and a part of my soul. Granted, I didn’t feel any different, but that didn’t mean I was whole again. I had no idea what the effect would be to me later on.

  Last night, before my shower, Poe informed me that Logan had come by earlier that day. He’d been in an angel-born hospital recovering and had told my grandfather and Poe everything. Logan told them he was working on a plan to get me back, that he’d been in contact with Kyllian, and they were trying to work out a deal with the Angel Legion.

  Faris had been true to his word. My insides squirmed. It didn’t seem right or fair that I was back home safely whereas Faris was awaiting trial. It felt as though I had failed him.

  But I wouldn’t let him rot in the Netherworld.

  I rolled over and grabbed my alarm clock from my nightstand. Seven p.m. Crap. I’d slept the whole day away, and there was still so much to be done.

  I swung my legs off the bed and went to my dresser. After pulling on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a pair of flat boots, my gaze drifted back to my nightstand. Faris’s small dagger lay next to my alarm clock. I picked it up, now that I wasn’t facing imminent death, and took my time to inspect it.

  It was heavy for such a small blade, as long as my hand. Forged with some dark gray metal, sharp as a shard of glass, demonic sigils and runes were carved along the blade. The hilt was molded with the face of a wailing, horned demon.

  “Creepy.” I slipped the blade into my back pocket and stepped into the hallway. The house was unusually dark and silent. I stopped over the staircase and listened. Only the constant hum of the refrigerator answered back.

  “Poe?” I called. “Gramps?” Nothing.

  Then I perked up at the sound of muffled voices. I turned around. It came from my grandfather’s room.

  I let out a sigh. “What are you up to, old man?” With a small smile I went across the hall to my grandfather’s room and pushed open the door.

  “Hey grandpa. Can I borrow your phone—”

  There, in his bed, was my grandfather and a female witch.

  Which would have been fine if they’d been wearing clothes. As it was, they were both on top of the sheets—butt naked.

  “OH. MY. GOD!” I covered my eyes with my hands. But it was too late. The image of two, saggy, wrinkled and very naked bodies was imprinted on the backs of my eyelids.

  “Oh, hi, Samantha,” said my grandfather, his voice bright and cheery like he was commenting on a new batch of his gin. “I’d like you to meet, Charlotte. Charlotte—this is my granddaughter Samantha.”

  “Hello,” came Charlotte’s happy voice. “Your grandfather’s told me so much about you. I feel like we’re friends already.”

  “Hang on while I go wash out my eyes with bleach,” I said, my hands still covering my eyes, but the images of their naked bodies kept flashing in my mind’s eye. “You do realize you’ve scarred me for life. There’s no going back from this.”

  “Nonsense,” chirped my grandfather. “This is all very natural. There is no shame in being undressed. Why are people so uptight about being naked? We should embrace our bodies, not be ashamed of them.”

  “Why are you naked?” I howled.

  My grandfather chuckled. “Well, it would be rather difficult to have sex with our clothes on—”

  “Stop!” I shouted. I was the idiot for asking that. I swallowed and said, “Why didn’t you tell me you had company?”

  “My dear girl,” said my grandfather, his tone amused. “I don’t need your permission to have sex—”

  “Stop saying that word!” I cried, my hands slipping from my eyes. Crap. I looked again. Moaning, I covered my eyes again. “I’m never going to be the same again.”

  “You are overreacting, Samantha,” soothed my grandfather. “Besides, we were finished. Unless. Charlotte. You’d like to go for another round?”

  The bed squeaked, and then I heard the sound of bodies moving. There was a slap on skin. “Why, you naughty witch,” squealed Charlotte.

  Shoot me now. “I should have stayed in the Netherworld.”

  A flutter of wings appeared behind me. “What’s all the shouting about—Oh. Boy.”

  “I have to get out of here.” I spun, ran out the room and headed for the staircase, the sound of Charlotte’s laugh trailing behind me.

  I took the stairs up to the third floor and hurried over to my work table.

  Poe landed on a cleared spot on the table. “What are you doing?”

  As I rummaged through the stack of papers, books, and candles, a white chalk peered from under my Wicca for the Modern Witch book. I grabbed it. “I’m getting Faris out of the Netherworld,” I said as I headed to the spot on the wood floor where I could make out the faint traces of the summoning triangle and circle I’d used before.

  “Right,” said the raven. “About that. Listen, while you were napping, there was another murder.”

  I halted, tension spiking through me. I knew exactly what he meant by murder. “Are you sure?”

  The raven nodded his head. “Another young witch that fits your description. But if what you told me was true, why is Vorkol still having this vampire working to kill you? I thought she grew bored of you?”

  Heart thumping, I dropped to my knees and began to trace the Circle of Solomon. “Maybe he doesn’t know. I don’t think she cared enough to tell him.”

  Poe walked over to the edge of the table. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  I sighed, trying to focus. “First, we get Faris back. Then, we go find that bloodsucker.”

  “How? He could be anywhere.”

  “Then we’ll look everywhere,” I snapped, regretting it immediately. I took a calming breath and said, “I don’t care. But this has to stop. I don’t want to think about all tho
se dead witches.”

  I quickly finished tracing the Goetia triangle, wrote Farissael in the center followed by his unique sigil, and stood, heart pounding with excitement and fear. I hoped I wasn’t too late. Maybe I should have summoned him last night.

  “Where are your gloves?” questioned the raven. “You never go anywhere without them.”

  I glanced at my hands and the scars that marred them. I flipped them over, palms facing up, and I could see a faint, darkened line of scar tissue along my left palm where I’d cut myself. I thought I would need stitches, but my grandfather had sealed up the would expertly with a healing spell last night.

  “I forgot to put them on,” I said, surprised that it had totally slipped my mind. Now, that was a first.

  Though I only had the one glove. Logan had kept the other one.

  “And your rings?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Vorkol destroyed them. There’s no time to make new ones.” But as my great aunt would say, “A wise dark witch must always have backups.” “I have an extra one somewhere around here. It’s not as powerful, but it will do just fine to fry an old vampire.”

  I shook my body, trying to rid it of the sudden tension, and focused as I drew the energy from the circle and triangle.

  Please be alive...

  “I conjure you, Farissael, demon of the Netherworld to be subject to the will of my soul. I bind you with unbreakable adamantine fetters,” I continued, channeling the magic and letting the power spill into me, “and I deliver you into the black chaos in perdition. I invoke you, Farissael, in the space in front of me!”

  I held my breath. Magic pulsed through me in waves, mixed with my adrenaline.

  Please be alive...

  There was a sudden burst of wind.

  And then Faris materialized in the triangle.

  My knees shook with relief. He was alive. But as my eyes rolled over him, I cringed at what I saw.

  His lip was split and swollen, and bruises and dried blood stained his face. His open shirt revealed a nasty band of bruised skin that ran from his left shoulder to his chest. I’d never seen him look so disheveled. He looked like he’d been banged up by a demon heavyweight.

  “Took you long enough,” said the mid-demon, as he tried to gather what little self-respect he had left. He brushed the hair from his eyes. “I was beginning to think you didn’t love me anymore, Sammy,” he added, his voice a little higher than usual.

  I let out a breath. “I see they roughed you up a little.”

  “Yes, well.” Faris gave me a tight smile. “Nothing I wouldn’t do to them.”

  Demons were a strange bunch. “Okay, then.” I dragged my foot over the chalk-drawn triangle. “I release you,” I said, and let go of the energy from the circle and triangle.

  There was a sudden influx of power, and then it was gone.

  “You’ll be safe here until I can figure out a spell that’ll keep you on our side of the world for a little longer,” I said, stepping out of my circle. If there was one, I would find it. I owed him that much.

  “I need a shower,” said the mid-demon. “Can you get decent water pressure in this primordial establishment? I can’t have soap residue in my hair. I’ll look like a peasant.” I felt a pang of guilt when he ran his shaking hand through his hair again in a recognizable sign of stress.

  If I did hugs, I might have attempted one on him right now. “Down one floor to the left.” I dropped the chalk on the table next to Poe. “You’ll find towels and just poke around for anything else you might need.”

  “Thank you.” Faris walked away. I couldn’t help but wonder at his past, his wife, and how hard that must have been for him. I’d never understand demons. But then again, they weren’t much different from us.

  “Where did they find the last murdered witch?” I asked Poe, thinking that if we went looking at the area of his last victim, we might get lucky.

  “In Queens,” answered the raven.

  “Queens?” I shot the raven a look. “You sure?”

  “Yup.”

  What was the vampire doing in Queens? My frustration rose. I had to do something, his being out of range or not.

  A hand clasped around my heart and squeezed it. “It has to stop. We have to find him. Tonight.” Now that the higher demons were off my back, I had more wiggle room, but I still didn’t know where he was or when he was going to strike next.

  “What’s that demon doing in my bathroom!” My grandfather stormed in, his blue bathrobe swaying and a glass of what I guessed was gin in his hand. “I’m not sharing my water with a demon.”

  I raised a brow. “I don’t think he’d like it if you went in there with him either,” I added with a smile.

  My grandfather’s face darkened. “Are you out of your witching mind! Why on earth would I want to do that?”

  I sighed through my nose. This was going to be a long night. “Grandpa. Faris is going to be staying with us for a while. And I need you to be nice to him.” He opened his mouth to protest and I added quickly, “He saved Logan’s life and mine in the fighting pit. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Demon or not, he’s my friend.” I was surprised at how natural the word friend came out, especially referring to a demon. But I knew it to be true.

  My grandfather bit back a snort and mumbled something under his breath. He took a swig of his drink. “Friends with demons. That’s like asking a cat to be friends with a mouse.” He made a face. “What’s this world coming to?”

  “A better one.” Tension had me wire tight. I had less than nine hours to find the vampire and figure out a spell that could keep Faris on this side of the world before the sun came up.

  I looked at my grandfather. “Do you know of a spell that could keep a demon on this side of the planes?” I asked, seeing and ignoring the sudden alarm in his eyes. “For a little while.” When he said nothing I added, “Remember, he saved my life. If he goes back before sunrise, they’ll kill him.”

  He took another gulp of his gin and smacked his lips.

  I arched a brow. “Fine. I’ll just ask Aunt Evanora—”

  “I might know of a spell,” he answered quickly, knowing how much it would kill him if I went to her instead of him. These two had been rivals ever since I could remember. Epic in scale, and worse than two kids refusing to share their toys on the playground.

  Poe gave a snort, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Go on.”

  The old witch looked up from his gin. “It’s a very complex spell. Only a handful of witches can pull it off. Me, being one. It’ll take days of preparation.”

  “You’ve got nine hours.”

  My grandfather scowled. “That should be fine.”

  I felt a tinge of relief that he was going to help me with Faris, even if a bit grudgingly. I knew I could count on him. “How does the spell work exactly?” I found it curious that I had never heard of it before.

  “It’s a binding spell, more or less,” he answered. “It works to tie the demon to this world. To secure the demon and to break the Netherworld’s hold on him. It’s how witches came to have familiars. It took some serious spell work, but over the years, the bond between the two was strong and fed off the witch’s own energy. That helped perpetuate the demon’s resistance to this world, enabling them to stay indefinitely. This spell will work the same way.”

  “Sounds great,” I said, my heart thumping with excitement. “Whatever it takes to keep Faris here with us.” Now that he was going to help me with Faris, I could concentrate on finding the old vampire.

  I watched as my grandfather tipped his glass to his lips and finished the last of his gin. I realized something was missing. “What happened to your friend Charlotte?”

  “The damnedest thing,” said my grandfather, staring at his empty glass as though he couldn’t explain where all the alcohol had gone. He flicked his gaze to mine. “Her daughter called. Apparently, her granddaughter’s gone missing. She went out to get cream from the local bodega,” he said, and m
ade a gesture with his free hand, “and she never came back.”

  A deep chill shook the core of my being. I shared a sidelong look with Poe, ice rolling up and down my spine and making me shiver.

  “Is her granddaughter a witch?” I had to ask. Not all witches mated with other witches. It was rare, but some witches married outside the witch community and got hitched with humans.

  My grandfather frowned. “Of course she’s a witch.”

  Alarm hit me. “How long ago was this?”

  He shrugged. “A few minutes before I came upstairs. Why? Charlotte went to see if she could help find her granddaughter and calm her daughter. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Oh, it’s something, all right,” I told him, my pulse fast. If this just happened, I still had time. “Where does Charlotte’s granddaughter live?”

  “In Queens with her mother.”

  “You know the address?”

  “195th Street on the corner of 73rd Avenue.” He watched me for a moment, shifting his feet. He gave me a hard look. “I know that face. What are you not telling me, Sam?”

  My gaze flicked from Poe to my grandfather, my heart thumping in my chest. “The vampire’s got her.”

  “What?” cried my grandfather, incredulous, his thick white brows lowering. “Don’t be ridiculous. She probably just went out to see some friends.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Which is why her mother’s having a fit. No. The vampire’s got her.” My lips curled into a wicked smile. “And now I’ve got him.”

  27

  This was it. This was how I was going to get the murderous vampire and kill him.

  You’re mine, you bastard.

  Excitement, hope, and anticipation rose high. The vampire was in for a nasty surprise.

  “Uh—Samantha,” said Poe as he slammed his beak on a tiny spider that had been crawling along my work table. “I hate to break this to you, but,” he paused as he gulped down the spider, “you’ll never make it in time. Even with the fastest car, traffic’s a bitch in New York City. Getting from here to Queens will most likely take you over an hour. She’ll be dead by then.”