by G A Chase
“Colin said we could talk over the two cufflinks like tin cans on a string.”
“And you fucking believed him?” Sanguine couldn’t hold in her anger. “After all we’ve been through, you have got to be the most—”
“Enough!” Delphine cut in. “There’s no point in assigning blame.”
Sanguine agreed that there was no point searching for a guilty party when a confession was literally on the table. “She’s given him an opening!”
“What’s done is done,” Delphine said, showing that she was only slightly less naïve than Kendell. “At least we now know how he’s infecting you with his emotions. The question now is, how do we turn this to our favor? Why did he think it would be useful to talk to you?”
Sanguine cut off Kendell before she could answer. “And why in the name of all that’s holy did you want to talk to him?”
Kendell sat straighter in her chair. “Because he had a point. You tossed him into hell without talking to me first. He isn’t the only manipulative bastard I’ve had to deal with lately. I never asked to be a part of your grandmother’s hell. There seem to be a lot of assumptions in the Wiccan realm about what I’ll accept. I’m no fan of Colin, but he isn’t Baron Malveaux. Lincoln Laroque might have been an asshole, but I’ve dealt with my fair share of arrogant pricks. They aren’t all devils. Colin Malveaux shouldn’t be convicted for Baron Malveaux’s sins.”
“They’re one and the same,” Sanguine said. “Do we really have to rehash the past?”
“He’s only partly Baron Malveaux. My point is, this is a discussion that never took place. I was not Colin’s judge, jury, or executioner—merely his jailor. If I’m to be held accountable for his incarceration, I deserve better than to be cut out of sentencing. He wanted to plead his case, and if I was to be responsible for his judgment, I figured he deserved his day before me.”
The only thing Sanguine hated more than being questioned about her motives was being proven wrong by someone she cared about. “I didn’t mean to cut you out of the decision to cast him into hell. I simply didn’t want you to have to shoulder that burden. Agnes had her plan for Baron Malveaux in place long before either of us was born. But what do you intend to do—pardon him?”
“I’m not that foolish. When I trap a rattlesnake under a bucket, I don’t let him out, hoping he’ll be grateful to be freed. No matter which direction Colin would strike, it would be against someone I love.”
Delphine put down her wine. “And he’d strike with supernatural powers. We have no way of knowing how much of what he’s learned would transfer into our reality.”
Sanguine still had phantom back spasms from her missing wings. “If I’m any indication, not as much as he might expect.”
“You can see into the future. With time, the skills you learned in hell will become more apparent.” Kendell gave a look of pity that only made Sanguine more furious at her for having accepted the cufflink.
“My point is,” Sanguine said, repressing the desire to lash out, “he won’t be able to spread his coat and fly or command the animals to do his bidding.”
“Once again,” Delphine said, “we’re speculating on what may or may not happen if Colin finds a way out of hell, and that’s not why you invited me to lunch. The golden cufflink gives Colin a tangible connection to our reality. He can’t jump through it or use its cursed abilities to kill someone or anything like that. It’s simply a road marker for him. The fact that it does carry the Malveaux curse and that—despite what Baron Samedi said—Kendell will always be connected to the curse means she is able to read his emotions.” Delphine put her hand on Kendell’s. “The only thing he can do is influence your emotions. Learn to identify what you’re feeling and look for the cause. If you can’t find one, the reaction is probably from Colin.”
Sanguine wished her emotions were so easily identified, but Delphine’s explanation seemed to calm Kendell. “So that’s it? She hangs onto the golden cufflink like nothing’s happened? Please don’t tell me we’re just being emotional, like some boyfriend discounting our feelings as hormones. If our problems are being caused by that cufflink, can’t we stick it in a lead-lined box or something?”
Kendell piped in like a kid who thought she’d discovered the answer. “Like those metal-lined bags you used when I first brought you the cursed items.”
“I can supply you with an isolation bag, but realize you’ll be cutting off your connection to Colin. So long as he thinks he is in charge, you can lead him where you want him to go. Cut off the connection, and you lose a tactical advantage.”
Sanguine couldn’t take it any longer. “You sound exactly like Baron Samedi when it came to building the seven gates. Why is it always someone not in the line of fire who thinks they know best what we should do? I’ve been the bait used to attract Colin before. That didn’t work out so well. He left me no choice but to cast him into hell. All this calm talk about how he was somehow condemned is bullshit. I was acting in self-preservation, for all of us. He would have taken Baron Samedi’s cane. Then where would we be?”
Kendell passed the cufflink to Sanguine. “He did manipulate us both. Maybe you should be the one to decide what we do with his possession.”
She picked it up and turned it in the light. “If we secure it, he’ll know we’ve discovered his ploy, but he will lose his connection to us and our reality. This stupid little piece of gold is what he’d use as a homing device to figure out our time relative to when he’s stuck. What we really need is to move this in time so he can’t reach us, while making it look like Kendell still has the item with her.”
Delphine pushed her wineglass aside. “There might be a way, but it would be complicated and dangerous. Voodoo totems hold the essence of a person in their spirit jars. First, I would need to harvest a piece of Kendell’s soul. Next, I’d put it in a fetish along with the cufflink. Finally, we’d have Myles deposit the sculpture in a parallel dimension by use of his cane. It might be enough to throw Colin off track.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Sanguine looked around the courtyard to make sure no one had noticed her outburst. She resumed her opposition in more modulated tones. “There is no way you’re carving into Kendell’s soul like a Thanksgiving turkey and tossing it into another dimension, hoping Colin follows it like a hungry dog.”
“I’m merely suggesting options.”
Delphine talking about options sounded too much like a mad scientist eager to play with her equipment, but Sanguine knew her own views on the subject were modest compared to those of the person who really mattered.
“Myles would cast you into another dimension if he was sitting here.” She turned to Kendell. “We’ll figure out something else. Your dog, boyfriend, and band need every part of your soul—as do I.”
Kendell kept looking back at the cufflink. “I know you’re right. All we seem to come up with, though, are last-resort options.”
28
Myles did his best to sit quietly while Kendell and Sanguine reported on their lunch with Delphine. Neither Cheesecake nor Doughnut Hole did as well at keeping their emotions in check. Each time Delphine’s name was mentioned, they both started growling their objections.
When Kendell explained the voodoo priestess’s plan for dividing Kendell’s soul, even Myles lost it. “And you just sat there, listening to this madness?”
Sanguine flapped her arms as if they were replacements for her wings. “That woman is barking mad. I nearly pulled Kendell right out of the restaurant. Don’t worry, I gave Delphine a piece of my mind.”
Kendell reached over and took Cheesecake into her arms. “It was just an idea. What if, instead of a piece of my soul, we could make, like, a mirror of me?”
“Sure,” Sanguine shouted. “We’ll just put a spell on your compact and put that in the voodoo doll. Then when he does break into the secret realm, he’ll have a mirror to watch your every movement. Do you honestly believe that’s any less dangerous than what we have now?”
Sanguine crossed her arms over her chest. Myles could just imagine how her wings would still be quivering in consternation. “You weren’t there. She was deadly serious. Had I not been so adamant in my objection, we might all be standing in her voodoo surgical clinic right now.”
Kendell struck back with such force even Cheesecake looked shocked. “I would never agree to anything she said without discussing it with Myles first. Look around this room. Do you really believe I’d let any of this love go? I hang onto those I care about with every aspect of my being. I would never leave.”
He’d never heard her express her love so forcefully about anyone other than Cheesecake.
“Delphine has an abrupt way of presenting her ideas, and I don’t trust her,” Myles said. “I do appreciate Sanguine’s concern that your idea could too easily lead Colin right back here. He’s making bold moves to escape hell. We have to be ready for him. We all know his attraction to you. A voodoo doll in your likeness could too easily give him power over you. I feel like there is an answer, but it’s just beyond my reach.”
She snuggled next to him. Even Doughnut Hole calmed down. “We need a fake version of my soul that can be put in a voodoo totem and delivered to another dimension. The copy of me has to be convincing enough to fool Colin. Delphine can’t make the copy, partly because of her lack of skill and partly because we’d never be sure of her loyalties. Just for a moment, let’s put the copy of me aside. Where would you hide it?”
He preferred to deal with one problem at a time, but talking with Kendell had proved there was often a back door to the answer if he followed her lead. “The ideal dimension would be Colin’s hell. He’d just end up doubling back to where he started.”
Sanguine finally sat down. “You’ve already proven your skills at sneaking us into hell. I’m sure I could find a reasonable hiding time and place.”
Kendell sat up. “It took too much work to get you out of hell. There’s no way I’m letting you use my boyfriend to walk, or fly, back into your grandmother’s reality.”
“You still think I want to kill him, don’t you?”
Myles could feel the argument brewing, but some disagreements need airing out. He didn’t interrupt as Kendell got fired up.
“Tell me that’s not still your plan,” she said.
“So what’s your option?” Sanguine asked. “You’re not going back. Another conversation, and Colin will have you as his personal escort out of hell.”
Letting them talk it out was one thing, but the implication of Kendell as Colin’s sex servant was where Myles drew the line. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Sanguine, just for the sake of argument, what would happen if Colin did circle back into his own hell but at a different time? If he breaks out, we’re talking about the release of a lot of energy.”
She closed her eyes as if she were trying to envision the event. “If the energy he expels isn’t controlled, and the World Trade Center continues to build up power, it would be like a nuclear bomb setting off another nuclear bomb—a feedback of explosions that couldn’t be contained in my grandmother’s creation. We’d be looking at a catastrophic failure that would spread across dimensions. Colin the devil would rival Papa Ghede for supreme ruler, only instead of someone looking to create equals, we’d have, well, Colin.”
“Good to know. So no hiding Kendell’s spirit voodoo doll in hell. Someone should make a note of that.”
Kendell held Cheesecake more tightly. “No need. That’s not an image I’m likely to forget.”
Myles tried to identify the other options. “Guinee is out. He’s already done enough damage as Baron Samedi’s replacement at the seventh gate. Plus, he’s got too many allies there.”
Sanguine bobbed her head as she thought. “My grandmother spent her whole life building that hell. Dimensions don’t spring up overnight. And I’m not about to subject the people of some other realm to his treachery. We just might be able to use her hell if it was modified first. Her dimension needs to be able to handle the energy buildup. The big challenge would be finding a way for me to talk to my grandmother while she was still doing the construction. The second thing we’d need is a way to siphon off the World Trade Center power just as he detonates his bomb.”
“Damn it.” Myles got up so he could pace and think. “We need help. Someone who has experience with the beyond who isn’t connected to voodoo. As I see it, there are two options. Luther Noire is no fan of Colin, but Colin has already bested Luther, so I’m not sure how much I’d trust his help. As for the other option, the sisters at Our Lady of Mercy don’t have a very high regard for any of us, but I can’t think of anyone more knowledgeable at dealing with the devil than the Catholic Church.”
Sanguine shook her head so nervously Myles wondered if she realized what she was doing. “My grandmother warned me about those nuns. If you intend on consulting the Church, I’m out. The only reason they’d let me in the front door would be to burn me at the stake in their courtyard. I was only able to help last time because I was in Colin’s hell. I expect they thought I was just another lost soul when I bashed at their door. I’m sorry. I love you, Kendell, but if he’s serious, you’re on your own.”
Kendell set Cheesecake on the ottoman. “There are other ways into the church than the cloistered nunnery. We sent Professor Yates to Saint Louis Cathedral as our failsafe when we called forth Delphine’s totems from Colin’s hell. Maybe it’s time we found out how he got along with the head of the diocese.”
* * *
Though it had been his idea, Myles had never had much interaction with the Church. Like keeping his distance from a beehive on the path home from school, he had done his best to avoid any confrontation. Fortunately, that was what friends were for.
Professor Yates was busy cleaning out his bicycle-driven, gypsy-fortune-teller trailer when Myles and Kendell caught up to him at his office on the wharf. “What kind of mischief have you two gotten yourselves involved in this time?”
Myles pulled at one of the wood-spoke wheels, which felt too flimsy for the wagon. “You know, just the usual.”
“That bad? And you’re turning to me for help?”
“Hopefully, just an introduction,” Kendell said. “How well do you get along with the Catholic Church?”
The lanky gentleman went back to pulling equipment out of the back of the wagon. “You really had no idea, did you? When you sent me to the cathedral to man the failsafe, it was just dumb luck that I happened to be Catholic. You know, anyone else would have just been laughed out of the sanctuary. Crazy old man walks in from Jackson Square, looking like a busker and talking about paranormal objects in an abandoned building—not exactly someone a member of the clergy is likely to listen to, even in confession.”
Myles knew they’d asked a lot of the professor. “I should apologize for taking you for granted, but apparently, we take everyone for granted.”
Professor Yates dropped a big box of electronic parts inside his office. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Father Carl and I go way back. We went to high school together. Even he had trouble getting the specifics of the failsafe from the bishop.”
The fall breeze off the river felt good after the long, hot summer.
“I thought all you’d have to do was mention Luther Noire.”
“There are some things one doesn’t discuss inside the walls of the church. Luther and his organization are at the top of the list. Now, if you’re not going to get to the point, mind helping me with this equipment?”
Myles felt stupid for not offering. “Of course. What are you doing anyway?”
“Fall cleaning. Getting ready for the Halloween rush. People who want to be scared don’t want my readings to look overly scientific.”
Myles cli
mbed into the back of the wooden compartment and handed a pile of textbooks to Kendell. “We need to meet with someone about sending Colin to hell.”
Professor Yates dropped the toolbox he’d been carrying. “You mean actual hell? Not just the made-up dimension your Wiccan swamp witch devised, but fire and brimstone, Beelzebub, Hades?”
Kendell walked past the awestruck gentleman. “That would be the one.”
“Suddenly, I see why you didn’t consider the fact that I found the failsafe to destroying those supernatural objects all that noteworthy. You know, the Church takes a pretty hard line on realms like heaven and hell. Father Carl calls himself a foot soldier for God. You’re looking for a four-star general.”
Myles found a broom at the front of the wagon and started cleaning the rat turds from front corners. “I may have overstated our desires. If Colin finds a way out of his hell, which is sounding more likely with each passing contact, we’ll need a way to combat him. Another dimension would be ideal, but barring that, it’d be nice to understand a little better how theirs works.”
Kendell checked around the wagon for any housekeeping chores that had been missed. “Comparing notes might be the best description. We’ve got a problem with our hell and thought the Church might be willing to help. Does that sound better than us wanting to throw our trash out in their dumpster?”
Professor Yates closed up his office. “I can set up the appointment. I’ll talk to Father Carl to see how high up the chain of command he can summon forth. Don’t get your hopes up. Best you can realistically expect is a church-school lesson on the differences between heaven and hell or the seven deadly sins.”