by Sarah Noffke
“You know what, just this once, I’ll call him off of you,” Renswick said with a genuine smile. “You appear to have your hands full and you did make it past the gargoyles.”
“Thanks,” Liv said.
“So, you came here to ask for an exilar? A depour? A trixie mixie?”
Liv’s brow scrunched up in confusion. “No, but what’s a trixie mixie?”
Renswick wagged a finger at her. “If you don’t know, then I can’t tell you.”
“Right,” Liv said, wondering if she’d accidentally strolled into an insane asylum. “I’m here because I’ve heard you’re an expert on demons.”
The pleasant smile on Renswick’s face disappeared. “Oh, I should have known.” He stood abruptly, clapping his hand at his side. “Please follow me.”
The elf disappeared through the sitting room door.
Liv stood and ran after him. “Where are we going?”
“Well, I was under the impression that you were polite company, but I realize that was an incorrect assumption.”
“Wait, you thought I came here to ask about tree gnomes and such?” Liv asked, following him up a staircase that seemed to keep going, although she was sure they’d gone up two flights and there were more in sight.
“Naturally,” he stated. “Most Warriors who have paid me a visit only care about the trivial.”
“And you’re surprised I’m asking about demons?” she asked.
He looked over his shoulder, his hand gliding over the staircase rail. “I’m surprised, but not astonished. I figured this day would come soon. Who told you, the dwarves? The centaur? Please tell me the blood children aren’t blabbing?”
“It was the brownies,” she admitted, wondering what blood children were.
He paused, giving her a proud look. “Brownies? You got the information out of a brownie? Oh, Ms. Beaufont, you’re doing something right, aren’t you?”
“Or something very wrong,” she replied.
Renswick halted after five stories, directing her to the only room on the floor. “Please go in, and don’t make yourself comfortable.”
Liv did as she was told, although she found the tile on this floor sticky, making each step more difficult than the last.
When she entered the open room, she was surprised to find her first bit of color in the house—black, white and too much red. She nearly whipped out Bellator at the sight of the many demons in the room until she realized they were taxidermies.
Liv shivered at the sight before her. It was a library, and so much more. There were many demons complete with horns stationed around the room, as well as many cases displaying different artifacts. With her mouth wide open, she stared around at the strangeness, waiting for Renswick to speak. He seemed to be enjoying her reaction to the room.
“It’s taken me the better part of a century to construct this,” he offered after a long silence.
“Why?” she asked simply in response.
He shrugged and strode into the room, appreciating the many volumes on the wall. “Why does anyone study the devil?”
“Because they are corrupt?” Liv offered.
He chuckled, holding a single finger in the air. “Or they want to heal the world of corruption.”
That sounded similar to what Mortimer had said when she’d asked.
“The crow in the Chamber of the Tree serves a very important purpose,” he said.
Liv blinked, wondering how he knew about it. No one but those in the House should know about the crow, and really only the Seven.
“Yes, I know,” he said as if she’d voiced a complaint. “You see, most regard the tiger as the most important part because he represents good. But what happens when you ignore evil?”
Liv didn’t answer mostly because she didn’t have one.
“When you ignore evil, you open yourself to it,” he answered for her. Renswick held his arms out wide. “I’ve spent an entire mortal’s life’s worth of years cataloging demons because I don’t want to be susceptible to them. That’s called constant vigilance. That’s called guarding the crow, rather than cherishing the tiger.”
Liv thought back to the mausoleum, trying to piece together everything she’d learned and seen. “Your wife, Delilah—was she killed by a demon?”
Renswick’s arms clapped to his chest, offense springing to his face. “Where is Todd when I need him?”
Liv’s hand went to Bellator, but she resisted. Instead, she drew on a strange strength and boldness she hadn’t even known she had. “Delilah? Please tell me.”
Renswick drew in a breath, collapsing on a long black couch. “You’re right. She was bitten by a demon.”
Liv didn’t know what to say as pain rewrote the elf’s face, making him look different than before.
“I constructed this vault of information in an attempt to save her,” he explained, motioning to the many volumes in the room.
“And when that didn’t save her?” Liv asked, knowing that it hadn’t worked.
He chuckled again like this was at all funny. “Then I just continued, believing that maybe one day I could save someone else.”
A cold chill ran over her arms. So his wife had died from a demon’s bite. “What happened to her? Did you stop her from becoming one of them?”
He nodded, his eyes distant. “They wonder why I don’t play like they do.” Renswick indicated to the window at his back that overlooked the park where the hippies congregated. “They don’t know what it’s like to lop off your wife’s head. That’s when sanity ends, and the rest begins. I wasn’t the same after that. How could I be?”
Liv didn’t know what to say. His pain was palpable, and yet, she respected this man more than most she’d met. “But you did it. You stopped your wife from becoming a demon. That was a noble deed, and I’m sure one of her last requests.”
He chuckled coldly. “Her last request was to kill me, but I stopped the virus before she was able to complete that mission.”
Liv looked at the room around her, realizing exactly what it was now. It was a way to stop the virus. A way to stop demons and keep others from losing their loved ones. Stefan wasn’t that for her, but she was still grateful that someone had made this their life’s mission.
“Renswick,” Liv began carefully. “A demon bit a friend of mine. He’s a fellow Warrior. We are trying to control the demon population so that what happened to Delilah doesn’t happen to others. Can you help me to find a demon by the name of Sabatore?”
Renswick, who had started to pace, halted. He turned to face Liv, and only then did she realize that his eyes were now black, his pupils mostly hidden. “Did you say Sabatore?”
She gulped. Nodded. “Yes, have you heard of him?”
He closed his eyes, holding his arms out like he was floating. He laughed, but this time it was a loud, a high-pitched sound. “Please tell me this is a joke.”
Liv blinked at him. “Wait, no. I’m serious. Do you know of Sabatore?”
He nodded. Opened his eyes. Gave her a stare that communicated a different level of crazy. “Sabatore is the demon who bit Delilah.”
Chapter Fourteen
What were the odds? Liv had been chasing demons for a few weeks, and had been astonished by how many were out there in the world. Renswick’s wife and Stefan being bitten by the same demon was like them randomly being related.
“I know it’s hard to believe,” Renswick said, reading the expression on her face. He looked around at the library. “I’ve spent quite some time trying to understand demons, and have found that Sabatore is quite different from most. They all have the objective to spread chaos and negativity. When confronted, they will attack a magical creature in defense. However, Sabatore has a vendetta against us. He seeks out magicians and elves, biting them, or ‘kissing’ them, as the demons like to call it.”
“He’s intentionally trying to spread the virus?” Liv asked with a gasp.
Renswick nodded. “Yes. He wants to turn as many as possible.”
>
“And that’s different from other demons?” Liv asked.
“Most don’t care that much about spreading their virus. You see, demons feed off negative emotions, which is why they enjoy creating them in innocent mortals. Sabatore benefits very little by infecting magicians and elves. It’s not only a chore for him to search them out since they aren’t as widespread as mortals, but it takes him away from the task that would feed him.”
“So why does he do it?” Liv asked, although the answer seemed obvious.
Renswick pulled a thick leather-bound book from the shelf. “Sabatore, from everything I’ve learned, was a magician who was cast out of his tribe. Lost and alone, he searched out demons, begging them to kiss him. When one did, he then went after his family, turning them all. Sabatore has single-handedly spread the virus to more magicians and elves than any other demon.”
“So this is his revenge,” Liv said with a grimace. “That’s sick. How can you want to do that to your own?”
Renswick nodded. He flipped through the book, licking his fingers as he turned the pages. “And what’s strangely impressive about him is that he still has much of his personality, and he’s still driven by the same motives he was as a magician. My research shows that the demon instinct usually takes over, directing them to the objective of spreading evil. However, that doesn’t seem to apply to Sabatore.”
“Is that because he was willing to chose the path of a demon?” Liv guessed.
Renswick face brightened with a smile. “Very good, Warrior Beaufont. I’m glad to see you’re not all beauty and no brains.”
Liv grinned. “I can throw a killer punch too.”
He snickered. “Oh, I know you’ve got strength. I saw you throw your sword at my gargoyle.”
She bowed. “Why, thank you.”
“And yes, it seems that because Sabatore embraced the demonic ways rather than resisting it like most, he is still in control.”
“He fused with the demon instead of having it take over,” Liv stated, realizing how strange this situation was. “Stefan couldn’t have been bitten by a normal demon. No, he had to get the worst one of all.”
Renswick gave her a sympathetic look. “Yes, of all the demons that you could have to take out for your friend’s survival, Sabatore is the absolute worst.”
“We go big in the House of Seven, and by big, I mean horribly wrong,” Liv joked because she couldn’t figure out how else to respond to this new information. She couldn’t lose hope, but this wasn’t what she’d expected to find.
With his head, he indicated the shelves of books. “As you can imagine, Delilah and I researched demons extensively, trying to find out as much about Sabatore as we could, and building this library during the process.”
“But in the end, you didn’t catch Sabatore in time,” Liv supplied.
“That’s right,” he said somberly. “We were always one step behind him. My sweet wife turned before we got the antidote, and when she finally perished, with her went my desire to kill the demon who took her life.”
“But Sabatore is still out there doing to others what he did to Delilah and Stefan,” Liv reasoned. “Don’t you want to put a stop to him?”
Renswick sighed heavily, defeat on his face. “No, I’m not a brave Warrior like you. I wasn’t meant to do the things you do. Delilah and I lived a quiet life here, enjoying the mountain air and our books. When she passed at my hands, I retreated even further, living the life you see now.”
Liv looked around at the black, white, and red room. “When she died, you erased the color from your life, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Except in this room, which reminds me never to venture away from home. I know I have many years left to live as an elf, and I’ve accepted that they will be lonely, but at least I’ll be safe.”
“So you study demons and document them, but you won’t do anything to rid the world of them?” Liv argued, heat burning in her chest suddenly.
To her surprise, Renswick smiled. “Some are meant to study, and some are meant to fight. You, my friend, can’t slay Sabatore without me, so I daresay I’m doing my half of the job.”
“You know where Sabatore is?” Liv asked in disbelief.
“I didn’t when Delilah died. He knew we were tracking him,” Renswick explained. “However, since then, I’ve come upon new leads. Recently, I learned of a demon who met his description. Many mortals reported vampires in this area, and it sounded very much like the activity that happens when Sabatore is kissing magicians and elves.”
“Where is he?” Liv asked, craning her head to see the page that Renswick had open.
He tapped his finger on the page. “Louisiana. As of last week, I believe Sabatore is in New Orleans.”
Liv didn’t allow herself to get excited yet. “Are you sure he’s still there?”
He thought for a moment. “It’s hard to know for certain, but he usually doesn’t move on until he’s kissed as many magical creatures as he can find. As you might suspect, there are quite a few in the French Quarter, which is where the activity has been reported.”
Liv shivered internally, thinking about how many magicians and elves had fallen victim to Sabatore and were going through the same thing as Stefan. “Thank you. This has been really helpful.”
Renswick frowned. “I haven’t nearly helped you enough. As I mentioned, I’m a coward who hides in here, expecting you to solve the world’s problems with your sword and bravery.”
Liv offered a comforting smile. “And like you said, we all have our roles. If he’s in New Orleans, you’ve saved us a lot of time and trouble.”
“Once you have Sabatore’s blood,” Renswick said, shutting the book, “if you bring it here, I’ll make the antidote for your friend. I studied the formula at great length, hoping to one day use it on Delilah.”
Liv nodded. “Thank you. That would be really helpful. I only wish we had known this and caught him before she died.”
Renswick laid the book on an end table, looking around. “I regret her death more than anything in this world, but I’ve come to accept it. Maybe if you stop Sabatore, I’ll finally get the closure I’ve been longing for.”
That gave Liv hope that there was still a way to save the man before her. Maybe more than just Stefan could benefit from slaying Sabatore.
“Renswick, my friend is not looking well. He says it’s getting harder to control the demon’s voice in him, and his energy is waning.” Liv drew in a breath, surprised by the regret in her voice. “How much longer do you think he has?”
Renswick motioned to the door, ushering Liv out. “It’s hard to say. However, I’ve learned that fighting the demon inside the person is incredibly difficult and painful. The moment that my sweet Delilah turned was the very same that she quit fighting. Don’t get me wrong—she was tough, tougher than most, but even the strongest can only fight for so long. When your friend decides he doesn’t want to deal with the demon anymore, that’s when he’ll turn, and there will be no saving him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Stefan was crouched against the brick wall in the alley, appearing more like a homeless drug addict than a Warrior for the House of Seven.
Liv approached him carefully, her hand on Bellator. She couldn’t see his face and didn’t know if it was still him or if he’d in fact turned. Renswick’s words were still fresh in her mind, infecting every second with dread. She couldn’t imagine doing what he’d done—swinging his sword’s blade across his wife’s neck. She couldn’t blame him for being a recluse now. That man had more demons in his closet than most. She didn’t laugh at the horrible pun.
“Stefan?” she asked, keeping a safe distance from him as raspy breaths emerged from his mouth.
When he looked up where his head was resting on his forearms, the morning light shone on his pale skin. He was still him, but only barely.
“I don’t think I can take anymore,” he said through cracked lips.
Liv shook her head at him, taking her hand
off Bellator and pulling him to his feet. “Yes, you can, because you’re Stefan-freaking-Ludwig. You’re a demon hunter and have many more to kill, but only once we take out Sabatore.”
His body sagged under her arm. “Liv, it’s too hard. I’m so tired, and it’s useless. No one ever catches the demon who bit them. It’s futile.”
Liv gripped him with a fierceness that surprised even her. Stefan’s eyes widened from the act, and he stood up straight. She couldn’t tell him that the moment he gave up would be his last. Stefan already knew that on some level, she believed. Surrendering to the demon would be a relief, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was exhausted and tired of fighting.
“You know what? No one ever catches the demon who bit them, but those people also aren’t you,” she began. “You’re the one who opposes the council, showing mercy to unregistered magicians. Your grandparents freed an entire village of magical creatures who were slaves to magicians. You’re a champion, and this isn’t going to be Stefan Ludwig’s end. This is only part of your story. One day we’re going to laugh about this, but first, we have to go and slay Sabatore.”
Stefan looked to be having trouble swallowing as he took in her words. “Yeah, let’s get right on that. But first, we have to know where to look. Did you get any leads?”
“If by leads, you mean do I know exactly where we need to search, then yes,” Liv said, opening a portal to the French Quarter.
“No. Just no, Liv,” Stefan argued as they clung to the shadows in an alley similar to the one they had left, but this one was in New Orleans.
“It’s a good plan,” she said. He’d perked up when she had told him where Sabatore was, but then slumped again when she described the plan.
“It’s too dangerous,” Stefan stated.
“And yet, it’s a brilliant plan that you can’t argue with.”
“I won’t allow it.”
“Then I’ll do it on my own,” she said. “I am supposed to be hunting demons, and he sounds like the mother of them all to end.”