The Good, the Bad, and the Undead
Page 25
“Demon?” She looked appalled. “You called a demon?”
I panicked, sitting there at the nasty woman’s desk. I was scared out of my panties, and I didn’t care if she knew it. Algaliarept had my aura. “It got through the circle!” I babbled, forcing myself to not clutch at her arm. “Somehow it got my aura through the circle!”
“Ms. Morgan!” Dr. Anders exclaimed. “If a demon got in your circle, you would not be sitting in front of me. You’d be in the ever-after with it, begging for your death!”
Frightened, I sat where I was with my arms clasped about me. I was a runner, not a demon killer.
The woman looked angry as she tapped her pen on the desktop. “What were you doing summoning a demon? Those things are dangerous.”
“I didn’t,” I gushed. “You gotta believe me. It showed up on its own. See, I owe it a favor for taking me through the ley lines after it was sent to kill me. It was the only way to get back to Ivy before I bled to death. And it thought that I was trying to call it to settle my debt, what with the circle and pentagrams that Nick was copying for—uh—me.”
Her eyes flicked to the water-spotted drawings. “Your boyfriend did these, did he?”
Again I nodded, unable to outright lie to her. “I was going to redo them myself later,” I said. “I didn’t have time to do two weeks of homework and catch a murderer both.”
Dr. Anders stiffened. “I did not kill my past students.”
My eyes dropped and I felt myself start to calm. “I know.”
She took a breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. I felt some kind of ley line force pass between us, and sat wide-eyed, wondering what she was doing. “You don’t think I killed them,” she finally said, and the feeling that I was chewing tinfoil stopped. “So why are you in my class?”
“Captain Edden of the FIB sent me to find evidence that you’re the witch hunter,” I said. “He won’t pay me if I don’t follow up on his idea. You’re obnoxious, overbearing, and the meanest thing I’ve seen since my fourth-grade teacher, but you’re not a murderer.”
The older woman slumped as the tension drained from her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know how good it is to hear someone say that.” She pulled her head up, shocking me with a weak smile. “The not-murdering part,” she added. “The adjectives I’ll ignore.”
Seeing a hint of humanity in her, I blurted, “I don’t like ley lines, Dr. Anders. Where’s the rest of my aura?”
She took a breath to say something, stopping as her gaze went over my shoulder to the door. I spun in my chair at the tentative knock on the frame. Nick peeked round the open door, and I felt my face light up. “I apologize, Dr. Anders,” he said, making a show of his university work ID clipped to his shirt. “Can I interrupt for a moment?”
“I’m with a student,” she said, the professional tone back in her voice. “I’ll be with you in a moment if you’d like to wait in the hall. Could you shut the door, please?”
Nick winced, looking awkward as he stood in his jeans and casual shirt in the doorway. “Ah, it’s Rachel I need to see. I’m really sorry for interrupting like this. I’m working in the next building over.” He turned to look down the hall and back. “I wanted to see that she was all right. And possibly find out how much longer it was going to be?”
“Who are you?” Dr. Anders asked, her face blank.
“That’s Nick,” I said sheepishly. “My boyfriend.”
Hunched in embarrassment, Nick fidgeted. “I don’t know why I’m even bothering you,” he said. “I’ll go wait in the lounge.”
A flash of what looked like horror passed over Dr. Anders. She looked from me to Nick, then surged to her feet. Heels clacking, she pulled him in and shut the door behind him.
“Stay there,” she said as she left him bewildered in front of her desk. Nick’s pentagrams sat before us like guilt given substance. Standing before the windows with her back to us, Dr. Anders looked at the dark parking lot. “Where did you get a familiar binding spell that was in Latin?” she asked.
Nick touched my shoulder in sympathy, and I wished I’d never gotten him into this. “Uh, out of one of my old spell books,” I admitted, thinking she wanted Nick there for verification. “It was the only charm I could find on such short notice. But I know the pentagrams. I just didn’t have the time to do them.”
“There’s a binding incantation in the appendix of your textbook,” she said, sounding tired. “You were supposed to use that one.” It wasn’t the pentagrams she was worried about, and a cold feeling slid through me as she turned around. The wrinkles in her face looked harsh in the fluorescent light. “Tell me exactly what you did.”
At Nick’s encouraging nod, I said, “Uh, first I made the transfer medium. Then I closed the circle.”
“Modified to summon and protect,” Nick interrupted. “And I was inside it with her.”
“Wait a moment,” Dr. Anders said. “Just how big was your circle?”
I tucked my hair back, glad she wasn’t barking at me anymore. “Maybe six feet?”
“Around?”
“Across.”
She took a breath and sat down, motioning me to continue.
“Um, then I stood on my scrying mirror and pushed off my aura.”
“What was that like?” she whispered, elbows on her desk as she stared out the window.
“Damn—uh—darn uncomfortable. I got the mirror into the transfer medium without touching the surface. My aura precipitated out into the media, and then I put Bob into it.”
“Into the transfer medium?”
I nodded, though she wasn’t looking at me. “I figured that was the only way to anoint a fish. Then I said the incantation.”
“Actually,” Nick interrupted. “I said the incantation first in Latin, then translated it for her, giving her an alternate interpretation on the last part.”
“That’s right,” I admitted. “I said it, and then the demon showed up.” I glanced at Nick, but it didn’t bother him as much as it bothered me. “Then I knocked over Bob’s bowl. My aura was all over him. I was afraid he might break the circle if my aura touched it.”
“It would have.” Dr. Anders was staring at the parking lot again.
“Is that why some of my aura is missing?” I asked. “Did I throw it away with the paper towels?”
Dr. Anders brought her gaze to mine. “No. I think you made Nick your familiar.”
My jaw dropped. I spun in my chair and looked up at Nick. His hand had fallen from my shoulder and he took a wide-eyed step back. “What?” I exclaimed.
“You can do that?” Nick asked.
“No. You can’t,” Dr. Anders said. “Sentient beings with free will can’t be bound to another by incantation. But you mixed earth magic with ley line magic. I’ve never heard of binding a familiar like that. Where did you get that book?”
“My attic,” I whispered. I looked up at Nick. “Oh, Nick,” I said, embarrassed. “I’m really sorry. You must have picked up my aura when you were trying to catch Bob.”
Nick looked confused. “I’m your familiar?” he whispered, his long face quizzical.
Dr. Anders made a bitter-sounding bark of laughter. “It’s nothing to be proud of, Ms. Morgan. Taking a human as a familiar is heinous. It’s slavery. Demonic.”
“Hold up,” I stammered, feeling myself go cold. “It was an accident.”
The woman’s eyes turned hard. “Remember what I said about a practioner’s abilities being linked to his or her familiar? Demons use people as familiars. The more powerful the person is, the more power the demon can wield through him or her. That’s why they are forever trying to educate the foolish in the dark arts. They teach them, gain control over their souls, then make them their familiars. You used demon magic by mixing earth and ley line witchcraft.”
I put a hand to my stomach. “I’m sorry, Nick,” I whispered.
He was pale, and he stood unmoving by my shoulder. “It was an accident.”
“How?” I fumbled for his hand. It was cold in mine, and he gave my fingers a squeeze.
“Because he’s carrying some of your aura. Ley line witches give their familiars a portion of their aura to act as an anchor when they pull on a ley line. If something goes wrong, the familiar is pulled into the ever-after, not the witch. But more important, familiars insulate you from going insane from channeling too much ley line force. Ley line witches don’t hold the energy they store from a line in themselves. They keep it in their familiars. Simon, my parrot, holds it for me, and I draw upon it as I need. When we’re together, I’m stronger. When he’s ill, my abilities decrease. If he’s closer to a line than I am, I can reach it through him. If things go wrong, he dies, not me.”
I gulped, cold as Dr. Anders eyed me as if I had done it on purpose.
“That’s why animals are used as familiars,” she said coldly. “Not people.”
“Nick,” I murmured. “I’m sorry.” That was what, three times now I’d said it?
Dr. Anders’s face wrinkled up. “Sorry? Until we get him unbound, you will not store any ley line energy. It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t know how to bind ley line force,” I admitted. I had made Nick my familiar?
“Wait a moment.” The woman put a thin hand to her forehead. “You don’t know how to store ley line force? At all? You made a circle six feet across strong enough to keep out a demon using energy straight from the line? You didn’t use any previously stored energy at all?”
I shook my head.
“You don’t know how to hold even an ounce of ever-after?”
Again I shook my head.
The woman sighed. “Your father was right.”
“You knew my dad?” I questioned. Why not? Everyone else seemed to.
“I taught one of his undergrad classes,” she said. “Though I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t see him again until thirteen years ago when we met to discuss you.” She sat back and cocked her eyebrows. “He asked me to flunk you if you ever showed up in my class.”
“Wh-Why?” I stammered.
“Apparently he knew how much strength you could pull from a line, as he wanted me to persuade you to turn to earth witchcraft instead of line magic. He said it would be safer. My class was overcrowded that year, and bending to a father’s wish to protect his daughter was no skin off my nose. I had assumed he meant safer for you. In hindsight, I think he meant everyone else.”
“Safer?” I whispered, feeling ill.
“Making a human your familiar isn’t normal, Ms. Morgan,” Dr. Anders said.
“Could you do it?” Nick asked, and I flicked a glance at him, glad he had asked, not me.
She looked affronted. “Probably. If I had the binding spell. But I wouldn’t. It’s demonic. The only reason I’m not calling Inderland Security is because it was an accident which we will soon rectify.”
“Thanks,” I breathed, numb. I had made Nick my familiar? I had used demon magic to bind him to me? Dizzy, I put my head between my knees, figuring it was marginally more dignified then passing out and falling to the floor. I felt Nick’s hand on my back and stifled a hysterical laugh. What had I done?
Nick’s voice came out of the blackness as I closed my eyes and struggled to keep from throwing up. “You can break the spell? I thought familiars were lifelong bonds.”
“They generally are—for the familiar.” She sounded tired. “But you can unbind one if your skill rises to the point where your familiar is holding you back. And then you have to supplant the old familiar with a better one. But what is better than a person, Nick?”
I pulled my head from between my knees to find Dr. Anders grimacing. “I need to see that book,” she said. “There’s probably something in it about how to unbind a person. Demons are notorious for taking something better when it comes along. I’d like to know how a book of demon magic ended up in your attic in the first place?”
“I live in a church,” I whispered. “It was there when I moved in.” I glanced out the window, my sick feeling starting to diminish. Nick had my aura. That was better than a demon having it. And we would be able to undo this—somehow. I had told Glenn I’d meet him at the FIB tonight, but Nick came first.
“I’ll go get the book,” I said, looking at the closed door. “Can we do this here, or does it have to be somewhere more private? We can go to my kitchen. I’ve a ley line in the backyard.”
Dr. Anders had lost all of her ugliness. Now she looked simply tired. “I can’t do anything tonight,” she said, glancing apologetically at Nick. “But let me give you my address.” She reached for a pen, scribbling across the folded evaluation of me and my familiar. “You can leave the book with the gateman, and I’ll get to it this weekend.”
“Why not tonight?” I asked as I took the paper.
“I’m busy tonight. I’ll be giving a presentation tomorrow, and I have to prepare an updated success/failure statement.” She flushed, which turned her years younger.
“Who for?” I asked, the cold feeling returning to the pit of my stomach.
“Mr. Kalamack.”
My eyes closed in a strength-gathering blink. “Dr. Anders?” I said, hearing Nick shift from foot to foot beside me. “Trent Kalamack is the one killing the ley line witches.”
The woman flashed back to her usual mien of scorn. “Don’t be foolish, Ms. Morgan. Mr. Kalamack is no more a murderer than I am.”
“Call me Rachel,” I said, thinking we ought to be on a first-name basis. “And Kalamack is the witch hunter. I’ve seen the reports. He talked to every one of the victims within a month before their death.”
Dr. Anders opened a lower drawer and pulled out a tasteful black purse. “I talked with him last spring at graduation and I’m still alive. He’s interested in discussing my research. If I can capture his attention, he will fund me and I can do what I really want. I’ve been working six years to put this together, and I’m not going to lose my chance to catch a benefactor because of some fool coincidence.”
I shifted to the edge of my chair, wondering how I could go from hating her to being worried so quickly. “Dr. Anders, please,” I said, glancing up at Nick. “I know you think I’m a scatterbrained flop. But don’t do this. I’ve seen the reports on the people he’s killed. Every one of them died in terror. And Trent talked to all of them.”
“Ah, Rachel?” Nick interrupted. “You don’t know that for sure.”
I spun to him. “You aren’t helping!”
Dr. Anders stood with her purse. “Get me the book. I’ll look at it this weekend.”
“No!” I protested, seeing her tying up the ends of our conversation. “He’ll kill you with no more thought than swatting a fly.” My jaw gritted as she gestured to the door. “Let me come with you, then,” I said as I stood up. “I’ve done escort service for humans into the Hollows. I know how to stay quiet and watch your back.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I am a doctor of ley line magic. You think you can protect me better than I can protect myself?”
I took a breath to protest, then let it out. “You’re right,” I said, thinking it would be easier to follow her without her knowing. “Could you at least tell me when you’re meeting with him? I’d feel better if I could give you a call when you’re supposed to be home.”
She sent one eyebrow up. “Tomorrow night at seven. We’re dining at the restaurant atop Carew Tower. Is that a public enough place to please you?”
I would have to borrow some money from Ivy if I was going to follow her up there. A glass of water cost three bucks and a lousy house salad was twelve—or so I’d heard. I didn’t think I had a nice enough dress, either. But I wasn’t going to let her meet with Trent unwatched.
Nodding, I put the strap of my bag over my shoulder and stood by Nick. “Yes. Thank you.”
Eighteen
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The early afternoon sun had almost worked its way from the kitchen, a last band making a thin sliver along the sink and counter. I was sitting at Ivy’s antique table, leafing through her catalogs and finishing my breakfast of coffee. I’d been up for only an hour or so, nursing my cup and waiting for Ivy. I had made a full carafe, hoping to lure her into talking to me. She still wasn’t ready, having evaded me on the excuse of having to research her latest run. I wished she’d talk to me. The Turn take it, I’d be happy if she’d just listen. It didn’t seem possible she would put this much weight on the incident. She had slipped before, and we had gotten past it.
Sighing, I stretched my legs out under the table. I turned the page to a collection of closet organizers, my eyes drifting aimlessly. I didn’t have much to do today until Glenn, Jenks, and I went to tail Dr. Anders that night. Nick had loaned me some money, and I had a party dress that wouldn’t look too cheap and would hide my splat gun.
Edden had been thrilled when I told him I was going to follow the woman—until I stupidly admitted she was meeting with Trent. We had nearly come to blows over it, shocking the officers on the floor. At this point, I didn’t care if Edden threw me in jail. He’d have to wait until I did something, and by then I’d have what I needed.
Glenn wasn’t happy with me, either. I’d played the daddy’s-boy card to get him to keep his mouth shut and come with me tonight. I didn’t care. Trent was killing people.
My eyes, roving over the catalog, fastened on an oak desk, the kind detectives had in pre-Turn movies. A sigh escaped me in an exhalation of desire. It was beautiful, with a deep luster that pressboard lacked. There were all sorts of little cubbies and a hidden compartment behind the bottom left drawer according to the sell line. It would fit nicely in the sanctuary.
A grimace pulled my face down as I thought of my pathetic furniture, some still in storage. Ivy had beautiful furniture, with smooth lines and a heavy weight. The drawers never stuck and the metal latches clicked smartly when they closed. I wanted something like that. Something permanent. Something that arrived on my doorstep fully assembled. Something that could stand a dip in saltwater if I ever got another death threat put on me.