by Sam Cheever
I was fascinated by the woman’s body language, it was definitely not what I would have expected having just been rescued from a superdemon. She didn’t appear to be happy and she didn’t appear to be relieved. What she did appear to be was pissed off.
Guess I couldn’t blame her for that.
After we’d been waiting for about an hour, a cranky, overworked unplanned care assistant stomped into the room and stopped in front of us, peering down at me accusingly. I looked up at her and tried to look meek and harmless.
She only scowled harder.
Not a surprise. I don’t do meek well.
“Hey sis.”
Darma shook her head in disgust, dislodging a long, blonde curl from the formidable cylinder she’d tortured it into that morning. “Everywhere you go death and destruction ensue, Astra.”
My eyes widened. “Is the girl dead?”
Darma whipped an impatient hand at me. “No. She’s still hanging on by a thread. But I’m sure that’s no thanks to you.”
As usual, when my first feeble attempts to placate my sister didn’t work I resorted to teasing her. I’m not sure why I think teasing will be successful when dealing with someone whose sense of humor could easily be dropped by a pin tip into the center of an atom with lots of room left over but what can I say?
I guess I ain’t too smart.
“Well I could have healed her myself but I am always conscious of your need to stay busy and feel needed, so I brought her to you instead.”
I didn’t think it was possible for my sister’s scowl to go any darker but somehow she achieved new levels of pissed off.
“Astra Q Phelps!”
Oh-oh, the full name thing.
“You are quite possibly the most careless, reckless, inconsiderate creature I’ve ever had the bad luck to encounter. Why is it that all my years of struggling to rear you to be a decent individual have wrought me only this!” She flung a hand toward me as if I were so disgusting I was beyond mere words.
I opened my mouth to stop her before she could break into a new rant but Cheets stood up and pulled her little woman persona out of the box where she keeps it for easy access when she needs it.
She stepped right into Darma’s space and pulled herself up to her full five-foot-four-inch height, then raised her chin and pinned my sister with her fierce, cop’s gaze. She looked so fierce that when her hand shot up to show Darma her badge my sister jumped and winced.
“Mx. Phelps. I am PC Cheets and I was with your sister on the raid that saved that woman,” she pointed a short, square finger at the still huddled Margaret in the corner, “and the woman who is now in your care from a particularly nasty demon. I have no idea why you are blaming your sister for that poor girl’s condition but I can assure you that she not only had nothing to do with it but she vanquished the demon who did.”
Oops! One sentence too many there. Hades! She’d been on such a roll too. Darma had even shown signs of backing down.
With the last piece of information my sister’s spine had reengaged and she had pushed her weight back onto her toes, jabbing a long, elegant finger in PC Cheets’ face. “And that is exactly why she is entirely to blame Officer Cheets!”
With that she turned on her heel and stomped back the way she had come.
Cheets turned to me with perplexity written all over her face.
I shrugged. “She hates magic and refuses to acknowledge that things like demons even exist.”
Cheets pulled her mouth shut and shook her head. “Damn girl.”
I nodded. “Yup.”
* * * * *
I returned to the office and, as I walked in and ordered the door to shut behind me, my gaze swung automatically to Emo’s desk. A jolt of pain hit me and my pulse picked up as I realized, not for the first time, what I’d done.
What if he never came back?
Forcing myself to shake it off I headed for my office. I threw my long, leather coat onto its usual chair by the door and went around my desk.
I didn’t sit down.
Once again I found myself standing in front of the large window behind my desk. Looking down at the street below.
Life looked so normal down there. So calm and ordered.
Not like my life, which always seemed to be fraught with complexity and altercation.
I sighed, suddenly weary.
The air changed and when I turned around Myra was sitting in my client chair on the other side of the desk.
“Hello angel.”
As usual she wasted no time on pleasantries. “The demons have killed another hostage.”
I dropped my butt wearily into my chair, scrubbing a palm over my face. “I thought they were in the middle of a truce with the royals.”
Myra’s clear blue gaze locked onto mine. “They were. They figure since a demon was attacked today the truce is off.”
My eyes widened. “Shit!” It had never occurred to me that, by simply doing my job, I’d create a chasm in the fragile truce. “But the royals had nothing to do with me killing that superdemon at Castle Gregg.”
Myra continued to stare at me for a long moment and then nodded slightly. “You and I know that but Alcott has a hair trigger temper and he doesn’t see it that way.”
I blew out my frustration on a breath. “Well frunk me to Hades and back again!”
Myra stood up. “Shall we?”
I looked up at her, glaring at the outstretched hand. “Must we?”
Her response was a slight raising of one eyebrow.
Sighing again, I stood up and touched her hand.
We landed in a small, glass and chrome building filled with long, light-colored benches carved in the simplest of styles. I looked around the space trying to get a bead on where we were but didn’t recognize it.
Myra dropped my hand and followed my gaze around the room.
Near the front of the building, at the end of a long aisle that ended where a low-slung chrome altar filled the center third of the room, were Raoul and his death detectives.
The room looked like the sanctuary in a church. But somehow not. The tall, arched windows that ran the length of the building on both sides were stained glass like a traditional church but there were no recognizable religious symbols or figures in the etchings. They were all about flowers and trees and scenes of nature.
My eyes found Myra’s and my eyebrows rose in question.
“It’s one of the new churches. Creative religion. They worship the earth and trees and grass and stuff. They call themselves the Church of Mother Earth.”
I scrunched my face, noticing the lack of crosses anywhere in the building. “They worship dirt?”
Myra’s narrow shoulders jerked toward her ears and then she said, “I’ll come back for you when you’re done.”
I watched her shimmer away and then, taking a deep breath, turned to look down the aisle.
I so did not want to walk down that aisle.
Raoul’s head lifted at the sound of my footsteps on the wooden floor of the small church and he stood up as I approached.
We shook hands in a very businesslike fashion, despite the fact that his eyes on mine were hostile. “Raoul. I understand the demons have killed again?”
The hostility went up another notch and he turned away, motioning for me to follow. “Well someone certainly has.”
This time it was a young woman. The condition of the body was exactly the same, right down to the cheap imitation ring clutched in her hand.
I held the ring up to Raoul. “King Dialle the First must have a room full of these things huh?”
His response was a scowl.
When I’d finished my examination of the body, Raoul put a hand on my arm and led me down the aisle a way, out of hearing of the rest of his detectives.
“I think you and I need to have a long talk.”
I stared into his eyes for a beat. They’d gone from hostile to determined and maybe even a little sad.
Finally I said, “I agre
e. We need to talk. But I’m not sure this is the right time.”
He shook his dark head. “It’s exactly the right time for what I have to tell you.”
I lifted my eyebrows at him.
“Let me take you to lunch.”
My gaze slid to the body at the front of the church and lingered there. For whatever reason I was reluctant to hear what he had to say. Our friendship had been important to me over the years, peripheral as it had been to my life and I didn’t want to see it go away completely.
Thoughts of Emo flitted through my mind and I felt my jaw clenching.
Raoul took this the wrong way. “Astra, you have to hear me out. It’s important.”
Making a sudden decision, I finally turned to him and gave him a slight nod. “Okay but if I don’t like what you tell me I reserve the right to kick your ass.”
He stiffened visibly but when I grinned at him he instantly relaxed. Finally he chuckled softly. “Deal.”
* * * * *
The restaurant I selected was one of the more expensive restaurants in Angel City. Raoul accused me of trying to get even with him through his wallet. I just smiled and reminded him the place had state of the art privacy booths along with kickass food.
Raoul asked the elegant young woman who seated us for the most private booth available and slid something into her hand as we sat down.
I was impressed by how smooth he was.
We ordered our lunch and then Raoul pushed the discreet silver button on the wall and sound-deadening alpha waves shimmered down from the ceiling above to surround the booth.
Raoul took a long drink from his fruity beverage and then set it down on the table in front of him, turning the tube this way and that with a thoughtful look on his face.
I assumed he was looking for a way to begin and I just waited, figuring this was his show and I didn’t want to get in the way.
After a couple of moments he looked up at me, his soft brown eyes serious. “What I’m going to tell you here has to stay between us, Astra. I’m afraid both my life and my career are at stake.”
Since he stared at me after dropping this bombshell as if he expected a response I nodded.
He returned his attention to the fruity drink.
I waited.
Finally he said, “I admit to you that I’ve been practicing the dark rites.”
“Well duh.”
His eyes slid to mine, ready to take offense. “However,” he said with some heat, “I have not been performing dark magic for the dark purpose as you have assumed.”
“What other purpose is there, Raoul?”
His gaze sharpened on mine. “The purpose of discovering what my coven is up to.”
A light came on behind my eyes. This sounded promising. On more than one level. First that he was actually doing what I’d asked him to do, despite the fact that he was not doing it the way I had wanted him to and secondly that he wasn’t the bottom scraping from a subterranean lunar waste pond that I’d assumed him to be.
“Go on.”
Our lunch took that unhappy moment to arrive and I spent the next couple of minutes trying not to chew my tongue off as the ditzy woman who served us presented and dithered and blathered around us in an attempt to ensure a healthier wait award at the end of the meal. I wanted to tell her that she was eating into the award with every word but a glare from Raoul kept my mouth sealed reluctantly shut.
Finally the woman left.
The food before us was beautiful, expensive and smelled divine. And it was probably going to be pretty much ignored.
Raoul pushed his around on his plate for a beat and then looked back up at me. “I have known something was going on in my coven for a while now but until you came to me I didn’t want to face it.” He sighed and placed his fork down next to the plate, giving up on eating altogether. “I had such high ideals when I joined the coven and I’d thought I was surrounded with people of like minds.”
“But you aren’t?”
“No. Those of us who believe in the good that magic can do have been systematically weeded out over the years. I can see that now. I’ve been feeling the pressure myself recently.” His glance was sharp, angry. “Which is why I did what I did. The only way I can fix this is from the inside.”
I swallowed a small bite of my lunch and shook my head at him. “Raoul, this isn’t a matter of scratching the right behinds in all the right places. You could have gotten people killed the other night in that clearing.”
“I had it under control.”
I blew an angry breath out and leaned toward him across the table. “It didn’t look that way to me.”
“It would have been fine if you hadn’t shown up. I planned to vanish the demon before it could touch the girl. I was going to blame it on impureness of heart on the victim’s part or some such drivel. It wouldn’t have mattered at that point. I would have been accepted.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “Was that you who made the fire demons go away?”
He gave me a sad smile that was touched with pride. “Yes.”
I nodded, clearly impressed.
“Anyway, the reason I wanted to talk to you is because I’ve found out at least part of what’s going on in the coven.”
I nodded, sitting back and taking a sip of the fruity drink Raoul had ordered for me. Not bad. A little too sweet for my taste but it had a nice jolt to it.
“You were right. The Supreme High Witch is trying to get a place on the dark world council. I heard the same rumors about her being behind the demon uprising.” His voice was filled with disgust. He seemed to be thinking about what he’d heard for a few beats and then he looked up at me and leaned across the table. “But that’s just the tip of the iceberg it seems.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “That’s bad enough.”
He nodded. “I agree, yes. But I have also learned that there is a rival coven which is trying to usurp the Supreme High Witch in Angel City so it can take over this coven and acquire the power she is striving to gain.”
I cocked my head at him in question. “Why go through the trouble to unseat her? Why not just work with the demons themselves?”
“Because they aren’t powerful enough and don’t have the right connections. They need her to complete the power grab and then they will reveal her to the PC and get her taken down. Their plan then is to sweep in and take over what’s left of the Angel City coven and gain an automatic seat on the council for their High Witch.”
I stared at him for a beat, amazed. “Holy gargoyle feet, Raoul, I never knew you witches were such a conniving lot.”
He shrugged. “Neither did I, Astra. This has really shaken me up.”
We both sat silently for a few moments, thinking about what he’d told me. Then I looked across the table at him. “So what are you going to do about it?”
He smiled and it almost reminded me of the old Raoul.
“I want you to go undercover with me to the rival coven, as a married couple.”
“What!” I managed to squeak out.
He nodded. “If we come to them as embittered ex-members of the Angel City coven I believe they’ll reveal more to me about their plans. Then I’ll be in a position to do something about them.”
Chapter Thirteen
Burn Baby Burn
The demon’s homestead smolders now, a shell without a clue,
But our young lady sniffs the air and learns what she should do.
I was awakened the next morning by a disconcerting flick on the nose. I opened my eyes and glared at Myra. She’d been waking me up in that extremely annoying way since I’d been a very small girl.
I hadn’t liked it then either.
“What’s up, angel?”
Myra pulled the covers back and turned away. “Get up, Astra, I’m making coffee.”
This brought both eyebrows up to peak and I rolled reluctantly out of bed. I headed for the food prep area, yawning behind my hand and dropped my weary butt into a chair.
Myra placed a steaming cup in front of me and I picked it up quickly, before she could snatch it back and tell me it was just a cruel joke.
She sat down across from me and sipped hers, closing her eyes in supplication to the gods of the rich, black brew.
I set my cup down and yawned again.
A glance at the universal clock on my wall told me it was six o’clock in the morning. Why the Hades don’t angels sleep in?
Myra stared at me over her coffee cup, knowing from years of experience that if she didn’t wait until I was at least partially awake nothing she would tell me would penetrate the brain fog.
I took one more sip and said, “Okay, hit me with it.”
“Dialle destroyed Demonica last night.”
My heart did a full stop and I held my breath, waiting for it to start beating again. “My Dialle?”
Myra lowered her delicate blonde eyebrows and scowled at me. “I’m not sure if your devil was involved in the attack but no, it was King Dialle who called for the destruction.
I nodded, more relieved than I should have been under the circumstances, Prince Dialle could still have been involved in the attack, in fact, he probably was. This was not good.
A sudden thought brought my face out of my coffee cup. “Oh dear God, Myra, the hostages?”
She shook her head. “They apparently were not there. At least we can be thankful for that.”
I took a deep breath and returned to sipping my coffee. Slowly but surely my brain was gaining speed. A second thought occurred. My gaze flew to hers. “Alcott?”
Again Myra shook her golden head. “He wasn’t among the vanquished.”
I scowled, not sure if that was good news or not. “How many?”
She shook her head. “No way to know for sure. Most of them were melted in the inferno.”
I grimaced. Dark worlders sucked. Of course, when you piss off something as powerful as a royal devil king I guessed you had to expect to get bitchslapped in a large way.