Beast Coast (A Carus Novel Book 2)

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Beast Coast (A Carus Novel Book 2) Page 15

by J. C. McKenzie


  “Where’s the women?” I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

  Guard One frowned. “There are none.”

  “So four male Witches living together? An all-male coven?”

  Guard Two leaned against the doorframe. “Female Witches are high maintenance.”

  “What do you want?” Guard One asked. His tone demanding, but he ruined the effect by wringing his hands and shifting his eyes.

  “I’d like to make amends and discuss business.” There. Very professional.

  The two nameless, unknown Witches cast confused glances at each other, then at me.

  “I’m Andy. Your neighbour.” I held my hand out, but no one took it. The creases between their brows smoothed out before reforming, and I dropped my hand to my side. “The one you’ve been playing practical jokes on?”

  Nothing.

  “Whatever.” I turned my attention back to Guard One and Guard Two, the Witches capable of speech. “Are you going to invite me in, or are we going to let the rest of the building know our business?”

  Guard Two’s eyes narrowed at me. “Are you going to attack us?”

  “Of course not.”

  With Guard Two giving the okay, the others drew back and ushered me into the ultimate man cave. Sitting down between two bowls of chips, I looked around their living room and realized I’d interrupted a video game marathon.

  “Nice place, you have,” I said, glad they couldn’t smell a lie. I stood up to accept a glass of water from one of the nameless and mute Witches. As if I’d actually drink it. Who knew what they’d put in it. “Interesting choice of décor.”

  “You didn’t come here to fling fake compliments at us, so why don’t you cut the crap and get to the point?” Guard Two grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge beside him and shut it with his foot.

  “Maybe we should start with introductions,” I said. My glass of water looked more unappealing as I watched him drink the cold ale.

  The nameless Witch with the dark hair and blue eyes started to speak, but Guard One shot him a threatening look. The nameless one squeaked, and his eyes widened.

  “Why do you want to know?” Guard One asked, shoulders bunched.

  “So I don’t have to mentally refer to you as Guard One and Guard Two…” I pointed at them to make sure they knew who was who. “And nameless mute one and nameless mute two.”

  The tall mute hissed at me like a cat and stomped out of the room. What was his problem?

  Chase, my mountain lion hissed back, but I ignored her.

  “I’m Ben,” Guard Two said before taking a deep swig of his beer.

  “Matt,” said Guard One.

  “Patrick. You can call me Patty, though,” the other Witch joined in. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction the other Witch went. “That’s Chris. He doesn’t…er…say much.”

  I nodded. Must’ve insulted him with the mute comment. “He’s not in there brewing something really nasty for me is he? I’m not a fan of hexes.”

  “I wish,” mumbled Ben. He probably didn’t realize how good my hearing was. When my attention snapped to him, he grimaced.

  “So…” Matt twisted his hands in the bottom of his stretched T-shirt. “The reason for your visit?”

  “I’d like you to summon a Demon for me.”

  Saliva and beer hit my face with force as it sprayed out of Ben’s mouth. “What?” he stammered.

  The other two Witches looked like they’d wet themselves, the scent of fear rolled off them with such strength it brought out the predators in me. My feras screamed to attack the weak and take them down.

  Hunt, my wolf growled.

  Take, said my cat.

  Relax, I ordered them both.

  Underneath the salty, sweet sweat lurked something else…new crayons? How could they feel excitement at a time like this?

  “Let me show you out.” Ben stalked over as if he planned to physically haul me out the door. Hah! Funny. Maybe I should let him try.

  “You’re not going to apologize for spraying beer all over me? Cheap beer?”

  Ben shook his head. He reached out to grab my arm, but hesitated. Thinking better of it, or seeing the best murderous expression I had in my arsenal, his arm dropped to his side. Apparently honey didn’t catch more bees. I hated that saying anyway. No one would ever describe my disposition as sweet. Time to stop playing nice and bring out the big guns.

  “Listen, bitches.” I placed a hand on a cocked hip. “The way I figure it, you got even with the first practical joke. But didn’t stop there. You owe me.”

  Ben grunted and tossed his empty beer bottle in a nearby recycling bin.

  “We can’t,” Patty stammered.

  I sniffed the air. Truth.

  “There’s, like, four of you!” I paused and gave them a collective once-over. “Or do you all suck that much?”

  Ben arched a brow. “I do not suck.” Also truth. Interesting.

  I looked at the other two. Patty wouldn’t meet my eye and Matt’s cheeks flamed red. “Ben’s apprenticing the three of you?” I waved my hand at the doorway Chris had walked through to include him in the conversation.

  I turned to Ben. “So, what do you say, Master Witch? Will you summon a demon for me?”

  Ben chuckled and twisted off the cap to another beer. “What’s in it for me?”

  I felt my eyes tingle as they partially shifted into those of my mountain lion. Patty and Matt scrambled back. “How ’bout I don’t rip you to shreds?”

  Ben didn’t look impressed. “How ’bout I don’t fling a curse at you?”

  Curses tended to be particularly nasty and irreversible. Knowing the Witches incapable of scenting the spike in fear I gave off, I faked confidence and let a slow smile spread across my face. “You better hope you hit your target and it works quickly. I’m not your garden variety supe. And you have more to worry about than yourself.”

  Ben’s confident veneer cracked for the first time. He faltered and glanced around the room. His apprentices, no matter how good, offered little in the way of support. Fledglings, to him; amateurs to the supernatural community; prey to me.

  “How ’bout we summon a Demon for you?” He conceded, coming to the same conclusion: his friends wouldn’t be helpful in a fight, they’d be liabilities.

  Mentally, I jumped up and down like a little girl, squealing in delight that I got my way. What I didn’t expect was for Patty and Matt to do it physically. The grown men resembled first-year students at their first frat party, belly-bumping and all.

  “We’ve been badgering him to summon the Demon again.” Matt gushed before racing off. “I’ll get the stuff!”

  “What do you mean again?” I shouted after him.

  “He finally showed us how a month ago,” Patty explained before helping collect random items. Random to me. I hoped they meant something to the Witches.

  “Why’d you make them wait?” I asked Ben, who downed the rest of his drink. Should I be concerned about drunk Witches summoning a Demon? Like impaired drivers making the road unsafe?

  “First, the strength of summoning fluctuates with the phases of the moon, being the most powerful on the New Moon. Your timing is excellent. Second, I never call a Demon frivolously. There must be a purpose and payment made.”

  “What will we have to pay?”

  Ben shrugged. “The Demon names the price. It depends if you’re willing to pay it.”

  “Will he or she charge a consultation fee?”

  Ben’s lips twisted. “No.”

  Matt handed Ben a box of salt, while Patty encouraged Chris to come out of hiding. It didn’t take much. Patty said, “Demon,” and Chris jogged out of the room with an eager glint in his eye. Patty didn’t have to say another word.

  I rubbed my hands together. “So, who are we summoning?”

  “Sidragasum.” Ben didn’t look up from sprinkling salt in a circle. The other’s hung back watching his every move like dogs watching their master eat at the din
ner table, confirming my suspicions that Ben knew more of what he was doing than the others.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, relieved the name didn’t match the Demon I knew.

  Patty tore his attention away from the circle and Ben’s mumbling incantations. “He’s one of Lucifer’s assistants.”

  “We call him Sid,” Matt added. “To avoid his unwanted attention when we talk about him.”

  “That…” Ben put the salt box down and brushed his hands off. “And it’s a mouthful.”

  The other Witches gathered around Ben with expectant looks on their faces. Bubbles of excitement and hope floated in fragrant waves of crayons and clean lavender across the room. Ben shook his head and drew a knife across his own palm without ceremony. If I’d never seen a summoning before, I would’ve jumped up and yelled, “What the hell?” but this wasn’t my first time. Been there, done that. When I’d freaked out at my first summoning, I’d embarrassed Dylan and had wanted to die from the shame. He’d cast me from the room and forbade me from future summonings. I’d never seen Bola’s true form. Now, I was glad I’d caused my former Alpha to lose face in front of his fancy Witch friends.

  The bitter scent of blood filled my nose as Ben clenched his fist and walked around the summoning circle. His blood splattered the lines and mixed with the salt. The scent of vanilla and honey of the Witches mingling with the blood and salt of the summoning created a potent mix and charged the room with energy.

  The Witches stood together and started chanting. “Hekate. Si placet, ancora nobis ad orbis terrarium. Gratias tibi ago.”

  From what I could figure out with my limited experience, most of which I tried to suppress, white Witches started their incantation calling upon their goddess Hekate, said their Ps and Qs, and somewhere in the middle made the actual request. It sounded like jacked up Latin to me. The more powerful Witches didn’t have to vocalize the incantations, but they probably did anyway to appear more badass in front of norms.

  In addition to knowing the proper words to incite, a Witch had to focus on what they wanted to accomplish, like extreme visualization. But above all, they had to anchor their spirit to the living world, the source of their power, orbis terrarum. If they weren’t properly anchored during a Demon summoning, nothing prevented the Demon from taking them back through the portal, or from the Witches being pulled every which way and shredded from the streams of demonic power pulling through the open portal. An eternity as a Demon’s servant or mincing of the body, mind and soul? No thank you.

  Ben appeared confident. And bored. I bet he didn’t need to recite out loud. He could probably summon this Demon all on his own.

  “Hekate. Si placet, advoco Daemonium Sidragasum ad nobis. Gratias tibi ago.”

  The air in the room stirred, rushing around, flinging my hair like the wind. The portal snapped into place in the midst of a powerful maelstrom. A dark figure formed in the middle of the circle in a crouched position. When the air in the room settled down, the Demon straightened and turned to the group.

  “Ah fuck,” I breathed.

  The sex Demon from the Vampire summit—wearing only a large grin—stood before me. Naked and proud, the Demon raked his eyes down my body. “Couldn’t get enough?”

  The Witches turned to me, questions in their gazes.

  “Please. I’d no idea what your name was.”

  His lip quirked. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Me neither. Fate likes to give me a hard time.”

  “I’d like to give you a hard time, too.”

  His almond scent drifted toward me. Like a siren song, it wrapped around my body, drawing me forward, catching me in its thrall.

  I waved my hand in the air as if to clear smoke out of the kitchen after botching a roast. “Quit it with the sex mojo.”

  Sid sighed and stared at the ceiling. “As you wish.” At least he didn’t deny it. I hated supes who assumed I was stupid. They landed on the top of my Things-I-Hate-Most list.

  I turned to the Witches and jerked my thumb at the Demon behind me. “Who did you say this guy was?”

  “Satan’s assistant.” Matt winced.

  “He seduces women for Satan and incites them to dance naked during the Sabbath,” Patty mumbled and looked at his feet when I turned my death stare to him.

  “I’m not all bad.” Sid’s voice slid around my shoulders like a satin sheet.

  Pivoting to face the Demon, I crossed my arms. My face naturally scrunched up to show my doubt.

  “I help create the illusion that the women are more beautiful than they are,” Sid explained.

  “Why would you do that?” I asked. “I’m sure you have a reason.”

  “To exacerbate the carnal desire in men.” Sid sighed. “Isn’t that the result every woman wants? Every heterosexual woman, that is.”

  “How magnanimous of you.”

  Sid stalked to the salt line and toed it. Little white electric lights flashed, revealing the invisible barrier that kept the Demon inside the summoning ring and protected us. “Let me have you for thirty minutes and I’ll show you how giving I can be.”

  “No deal.”

  “What deal would you like to strike then, little Carus? Or did you have me summoned here to bask in the glory of my physical appearance?” He put both his hands on his hips and tilted his pelvis forward. I wanted to smash this guy’s face against the kitchen counter, but even my eyes struggled not to roam his naked body. All seven feet of glorious muscles and his huge…

  “I told you to stop it with the sex mojo.”

  His arms dropped from his hips and he straightened. “Fine. What do you want?”

  “I’d like to know who is behind the attacks on supes and how he or she is controlling humans to do it.”

  Sid tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath in, it looked like he scented the air, savoring it and interring what he found to memory. “You seek information,” he said finally.

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  “There’s a price to pay.”

  “Name it.”

  “Dance for me, little Carus.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Be more specific. What kind of dancing? And for how long?”

  Sid leaned in. The scent of almonds rolled off him and encircled me like a lover’s embrace. “I want you dancing naked before me.”

  Cringing, I asked, “For how long?”

  A slow smile spread across Sid’s face. “Until I finish…feeding.”

  I blanched and broke eye contact. “No deal. I won’t add to your personal spank bank.”

  Sid chuckled. “You’re the one in need of information.”

  “And you don’t need to feed on my sexual energy. I’m sure you get plenty. Name another price.”

  Sid sighed and flipped a noncommittal hand in the air. “A little of your blood then.”

  The Witches gasped. “No,” one of them breathed, too quietly for me to decipher which of them said it.

  “Wouldn’t that break the circle?”

  Sid tilted his head, like a predator considering its prey’s actions. I knew that look. I’d done it countless times to easy food in the wild.

  Not prey, my cat hissed.

  “You put it in a new circle and summon me again,” Sid explained as if I was a five-year-old. The insulting tone would rub me the wrong way if I wasn’t a baby in comparison to his age.

  “What will my blood give you?”

  Sid tsked and shook his head. “That information doesn’t come free. Either you pay, or you don’t.”

  “So naked dancing or my blood?”

  Sid nodded. “Summon me when you decide. I grow tired of this conversation.” After glancing at the huddle of Witches, he yawned to enforce his point.

  The Witches moved closer to me. I peered at them and nodded.

  “Hekate. Si placet, expello Daemonium Sidragasum ad daemonum inferos. Gratias tibi ago,” they chanted together.

  “Little Carus, you will dance for me.” Sid’s
eyes met mine before he disappeared.

  Everyone stood silent in the room until the portal fully closed and the air settled.

  “I feel dirty,” Matt said, brushing his hands.

  I agreed, and no amount of showering would clean the invisible grime coating my body. Why couldn’t Demons request simpler things, like peanut butter or marshmallows?

  “What are you going to do?” Ben asked me.

  “I have no idea.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “It might not seem like it at the time, but sometimes a kick in the face is exactly what you need.”

  ~Mark Twain

  “Argh!” Slamming down the phone on the charger with one of my favorite curse words, I stomped to my laptop. After my third failed attempt to contact Agent Joyce Booth’s mother—Evelyn—I decided my only solution was to turn up unannounced tomorrow, manners be damned. I hoped Mrs. Booth wouldn’t despise me enough to slam the door in my face.

  I’ll bring flowers.

  Old people love flowers. Almost eighty, I’d know.

  Between cold calls, I scavenged the Web for information on supernaturals with a connection to the water. Search engines could only tell me so much. The most successful search yielded ten thousand and four hundred results. One website listed seventy-five types of supernatural creatures from mythology including gods. Preter-Pedia listed sixty-two supernatural creatures associated with water. The SRD database had been equally unhelpful. I hated research and came to the conclusion that unless I wanted to pay Sid’s price, I was screwed.

  Now, how to tell Lucien…

  My phone beeped. I glanced at the annoying object. How could one small electronic device instill so much fear? Stupefying. Taking a deep breath, I stalked to the phone and flicked it on, much like ripping off a bandage, I wanted the news fast. Maybe it was Mel.

  Lucien’s. Now, read the text from Allen.

  Before I could reply another text came in from Wick. Lucien’s place was attacked last night. He’s livid. Be careful. xo

  Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

  I placed my coffee down on the counter and stripped as I headed to the nearest window to shift. How many times had I done this in the last few days? Too many! Too bad Lucien gave as little thought to my opinion as he did the dirt on the bottom of his designer shoes. I morphed into my falcon and took to the air, having to beat my wings extra hard to combat the sinking weight growing in my gut. When would this end?

 

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