by Parker Blue
He leaned back in his creaky office chair as I took the bare metal chair next to the desk."What do you need, Val? Is it money? We're not doing that bad—"
"No, no, nothing like that. Did, uh, Trevor mention what he was looking for?"
"Yes, he said something about three old books, an encyclopedia of some sort. I haven't seen them."
Just as I thought. "We're all looking."
"What's so important about them?"
I shrugged. "Remember the books my father gave me?" Rick knew about them—they were the only thing I'd ever had from my real father except my demon nature.
"Of course. Is that what you're all looking for?" At my nod, he asked,"How did you lose them?"
"It's a long story. But now they're hidden somewhere in San Antonio and no one knows where they are."
"Sorry, hon. If I had them, you know I'd give them to you. But I haven't seen them."
"I know, but I wondered if you could help me find them."
Rick crinkled his nose like he always did when he was confused."How can I help?"
"I'm not sure, but I keep hearing this voice in my head. I think I'm supposed to look something up, do some research to find them."
Rick didn't even blink at the notion that I was hearing voices. He'd been around enough demons to not question anything weird."What do you think you need to look up?"
I thought for a moment."I'm not sure. Uh, maybe . . . do you have any references to old books, something that might mention the encyclopedia? Or anything about keepers . . . or mage demons?" I didn't need to tell him I was looking for real accounts, not the product of someone's imagination.
"Maybe." He stood and perused the books shelved above the old metal desk, then pulled down a thick one."This one has a listing of old magick books, but I'm going to have to think about the keepers and mage demons. Have you tried the Internet?"
"Not yet."
"Why don't you do that, and I'll see if I can find anything here." He handed me the book, then snapped his fingers"Wait. Don't I remember seeing some spells in those books?"
"Yes, in the second two volumes."
"Then maybe it's similar to a Book of Shadows."
Why hadn't I thought of that? It was how Witches recorded their spells and kept track of the rituals and other information pertinent to their craft."Yeah, maybe it is."
"If you don't find anything on the Internet, you might check with one of the local Wiccans."
"Okay . . . . " I knew from working here that most of them had a lot of desire, but very little actual power."Is there one you'd recommend? Maybe someone who knows a lot about this kind of stuff . . . or some real magick?"
He thought for a moment."Marina Lester might be the one you want. She's in the book . . . and she takes appointments as a psychic. Maybe even walkins. I've heard she's extremely accurate, if she's able to give you a reading."
Wondering what that meant, I thanked him, then looked her up in the phone book. I called her, and since she had an appointment available in an hour, I wrote down her home address. Taking the book Rick had given me back downstairs, I chatted with Mom and Jen a little then asked Fang, You ready to go?
He scrambled to his feet. YEAH. THIS LYING AROUND STUFF GETS OLD AFTER AWHILE. WHERE ARE WE GOING?
"To see a psychic."
OOOOKAY. WELL, IT'S DIFFERENT, ANYWAY. NEVER GET BORED AROUND YOU, BABE.
Yeah. Kind of like that old Chinese curse,"May you live in interesting times."
Marina Lester was nothing at all like I'd pictured. I should have known better than to buy in to stereotypes, but I'd expected an old crone or, at the very least, an overweight poser with heavy eye shadow and a dimly-lit space draped with acres of colorful shawls. Instead, this Witch was tiny, petite, and maybe a few years older than me. She wore everyday clothes just like mine and led me into an ordinary family room that looked a lot like Mom's. The only thing that looked remotely witchy about her was her hair—long red ringlets bounced around the delicate features of her face as if they were springs.
She didn't even raise an eyebrow at Fang's presence, but offered me a seat and came right to the point, smiling and speaking in a confident tone."This is how I work. It's twenty dollars for a reading, but only if the spirits speak through me. I'll need to hold your hands and concentrate. Sometimes the spirits come through, sometimes they don't. If they do, I won't remember it, but I'll record what they say on tape. I can discuss it with you, but I won't necessarily understand it, and the message is often very brief and cryptic. If they don't come through, there's no obligation and you don't owe me a thing. Okay?"
Weird, that was very similar to the way Tessa operated, though Micah's assistant had never claimed the voices were spirits.
Duh. I should have seen it before—she looked just like Tessa, except for the hair. Without thinking, I blurted out,"You're a soothsayer demon, aren't you?"
WONDERED IF YOU'D PICK UP ON THAT, Fang said with a grin. SHE'S DEFINITELY SOME KIND OF DEMON—I CAN HEAR HER THOUGHTS.
Her face paled and she jumped out of her chair, her hand at her throat."Wha-what are you saying?"
"It's okay," I soothed her."I'm a demon, too. And my dog is a hellhound."
She glanced wildly between the two of us."You need to leave now."
WHOA, BABE, Fang cautioned me. I'M NOT SURE SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE IS.
I worked on looking as unthreatening as possible."I'm sorry, I guess I made an assumption. Don't you know what you are?"
"I'm a Witch, and a psychic," she said with an unsteady laugh."There's no such things as demons."
From the nervousness in her voice, I gathered she did know what she was, but didn't want to admit it.
OR SHE'S BEEN TOLD TO KEEP IT HIDDEN, Fang suggested.
Definitely a possibility. How could I convince her I knew what I was talking about?"It's okay," I said gently."There are a lot of other demons in San Antonio. In fact, I know one who has the same gift you do."
"That's not possible," she said,"Mama said we're the only—" She broke off and covered her mouth, looking as though she regretted revealing her secret.
Fang trotted over to place a gentle paw against her calf. MAYBE YOUR MAMA DIDN'T KNOW.
She stared at him in disbelief, then at me, her eyes wide.
"I did mention he was a hellhound," I reminded her."That means he can telepathically connect with demons."
She sat back down gingerly, as if she were afraid her world would shatter if she moved too fast. ―I—I don't know . . ."
" . . . what to say?" I guessed.
She nodded, still looking stunned.
SHE CAN'T BELIEVE SHE CAN ACTUALLY TALK TO ANYONE ABOUT THIS. SHE HASN'T BEEN ABLE TO TALK TO ANYONE SINCE HER MOTHER PASSED AWAY, Fang told me privately.
"You don't need to say anything," I told her."Have you heard of the Demon Underground?"
She shook her head.
I grinned at her."Well, it's full of people just like you and me."
"You're a soothsayer?"
"No, I'm a succubus, but I have a friend who's a soothsayer. She's in the Underground, too."
"I don't understand," Marina said, looking as though she were having a hard time taking it all in."What does the Underground do?"
"We help other demons keep their presence a secret, help them find jobs, and generally give them someone else to talk to about what it's like being part demon in a human world. Oh, and I haven't been in it for very long, but they seem to have lots of parties."
She sighed."It sounds wonderful." She glanced back and forth between us."You aren't putting me on, are you?"
NOPE, Fang confirmed. IT'S ALL TRUE.
She jumped, seeming unnerved whenever Fang spoke to her."Hold on," I said."Let me call Tessa and she can give you some more info." I dialed the club and was glad when Tessa answered. ―Hey, Tessa, I think I found your long-lost cousin or something."
"My what?"
"Hold on." I didn't want Marina to think we were trying to scam her or anything."I'l
l hand the phone to her and you can tell her what you are."
"Are you sure?" Tessa asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. Just trust me, okay?"
"Okay," Tessa said.
I handed the phone to Marina and said,"Ask her what she is."
Marina took the phone gingerly."He-hello?"
Wanting to give her some privacy, I wandered over to look out the window as she held a conversation with Tessa.
Fang joined me. I CAN TELL YOU WHAT THEY'RE SAYING.
I know, but I prefer to give her the illusion of privacy, okay?
YOU GOT IT.
After about half an hour of me pretending to stare out the window and trying not to listen to their conversation, Marina finally handed me the phone and said,"Thank you. Tessa explained all about the organization and invited me for dinner at Yule. It was wonderful to talk to someone else who understands."
"You're welcome," I said and took back my phone."I remember how glad I was to find other people like me. It's a relief."
"Yes. I'm sorry I was so skeptical at first."
We both sat back down."Not a problem. I totally get it. I'm just sorry I hit you with it like that."
She shrugged."It worked out. So, I assume you didn't come here to invite me to join the Underground. Do you still want a reading? It's on the house."
"No, actually, I wasn't looking for a reading. I was hoping to get some information." She looked surprised and I hurried to assure her,"I was planning on paying you for it."
She waved that away as if it were inconsequential."Don't worry about that. I owe you. What do you need to know?"
"You practice Wicca?"
She nodded. "I do. I really resonate with the beliefs. Plus, it's helped me . . . blend in to a community."
She'd been luckier than me in that respect."Do you have a Book of Shadows?"
"Yes, of course."
"We're looking for some information on three books that are something like a Witch's Book of Shadows. Have you ever heard anything about the Encyclopedia Magicka?" I explained what I knew of it.
She thought for a moment, then shook her head."I don't remember anything offhand. I've become a bit of a scholar on Wiccan ways, and I don't recall ever seeing anything like that mentioned."
Rick had sent me to the right person."Maybe it was called something else?"
She thought for a moment."I don't think so . . . but I can look."
"How about a keeper or a mage demon?"
"Not that I recall, but let me do a little research and I'll get back to you." She looked chagrined that she couldn't help me.
"Okay," I said, trying to mask my disappointment. "Here's my number." I scribbled it down. "Call me if you find anything out, or if you just want someone to talk to."
I handed her the piece of paper with my number on it and our hands brushed. As they did, Marina's eyes went flat and blank. Grabbing my wrist, she uttered a prophecy . . . the second one I'd ever received in my life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
An hour later, I was home, still puzzling over the prophecy. "Seek not, lest you find more than you bargained for. Keep not, lest you are prepared to meet your destiny."
It seemed to tell me I shouldn't look for the books unless I was prepared to accept the consequences, and I shouldn't keep them unless I was okay with meeting my destiny. What did that mean? Was that a veiled way of saying I'd die if I found and kept the books? Or was my "destiny" something else?
That was the problem with these soothsayer prophecies—their meaning was never clear until after the prediction came to pass. I sighed. I couldn't be sure what it meant, so the best thing was to ignore it and continue on like I'd never heard it. I looked through the book Rick had given me. No listing for the Encyclopedia Magicka and nothing useful. So, I booted up Gwen's computer in the corner of the living room and tried to figure out what the voice wanted me to look up.
I tried an Internet search for "Encyclopedia Magicka" first, and the only things that came up were references to role-playing games. I searched again for people trapped in books and got nothing but fiction. A search for "mage demon" brought more game stuff. And searching for a keeper of books was hopeless—scads of listings about accountants, but nothing about a keeper for magickal books.
I kept trying different combinations and different ways of saying the same thing, plus any other word combinations even close to what I was looking for, but it seemed to all be fiction, no fact. Then again, did I really expect to find factual accounts of demons on the web where anyone could see it?
Searching for"Book of Shadows" gained me a lot more information, including a mention of grimoires. Since both these types of books contained magickal spells, they were close to the Encyclopedia Magicka. But while reading about how to create them was interesting, I didn't see anything that would help me find the ones that were missing. And there was nothing about mage demons writing their own grimoires.
Fang yawned, bored with the hours I'd spent searching. MAYBE THIS GAME STUFF IS A DECOY,
OR A CODE TO MAKE PEOPLE THINK IT'S ONLY FICTION.
I shrugged. Couldn't hurt to check. I pored over the rules of a bunch of games, trying to find one that fit the way the real demon world worked, but no luck. Each seemed to have inconsistencies that made me cross it off the list.
Finally, feeling eye strain—not to mention butt strain—I quit for awhile. Sheesh, this was harder than hunting the streets.
Fang stretched. I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THIS VOICE OF YOURS IS BOGUS. WHY DIDN'T IT SAY WHAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LOOK UP?
"Because Kyle interrupted it when he messed with my dreams." THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY DREAMING AGAIN.
Maybe. But the voice only seemed to be able to reach me when I was doped up or unconscious . . . or hanging out in that still, private place within myself.
SO USE THE CANDLE, ALREADY.
"I will . . . but let me give my butt a break first."
I got up and stretched, then searched for leftovers in the kitchen. With Gwen doing most of the cooking, there was always something good to eat in the fridge.
After we ate, I decided to try using the candle again. It was dark, so I set the candle on my nightstand, lit it, and turned off the lights. Sitting on the bed where it was softer on my backside, I stilled my mind as Micah had taught me and stared into the flame.
It became easier each time to go to that still, quiet place deep inside me. Without Lola to distract me, I visualized my favorite place in the world. In my mind's eye, I pictured myself sitting on the banks of the San Antonio River on the River Walk. The place was all mine, free of tourists, partiers, or people of any kind. I watched as the lazy waters of the jade green river flowed by, the soft breeze caressing my skin.
Peaceful, quiet, serene . . . perfect. I stayed there for awhile, just enjoying the unaccustomed tranquility. When I felt it was time, I opened my mind and my heart to receive any messages that might be waiting for me. After a time, I heard a whisper, so faint I almost didn't catch it.
Tell me what you want me to know, I urged.
But though the voice became a little louder, I couldn't catch every word. Must . . . me . . . before . . .
What? I concentrated harder, hoping the voice would become more clear.
The voice tried two more times before I finally got the full message. You must find me before Trevor Jackson does.
So it was the books talking to me! Where are you?
In the—
The voice abruptly cut off. This time, the sudden termination wasn't me, wasn't anything I'd done. I was still in the trance. What had happened to cut our communication? I stayed by the river in my mind a while longer, open and receptive, but the voice didn't return.
Disappointed, I finally withdrew and brought myself back to awareness of the here and now. And, as I lay back on the bed, I became aware of all my aches and pains. The wound in my side was almost healed, but still ached. My head still hurt a bit from where Micah had walloped me, but the worst part was the energ
y conduits that Lola used and my abused chakras. They still felt seared and overly sensitive. And I was still weaker than normal, not quite back up to full slayerish capacity.
So this was what it was like to feel human . . . vulnerable . . . fragile.
I wasn't sure I liked it much.
Lola was hiding down deep somewhere, which was odd but good. I couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been everpresent, always empty, always seeking more male energy, even when she was totally satisfied. But now, it was as if she was curled around the pain of the backlash, hiding from the boogie man, afraid to come out.