Hot Magic

by Holli Bertram

  “Mom.” Julie rushed to her mother. “Stay here. I promise I’ll bring Tasha back.”

  “No arguing!” Her mom used a tone of voice Julie was very familiar with. She then turned to Joe. “Now get on with it before I turn into an ice cube.”

  Joe gave Julie the look that a lot of people gave her after talking with her mom. Sort of a combination of frustration and disbelief. Julie did what she always did in response. She shrugged.

  Joe grimaced and locked the freezer door from the inside, muttering something about how he should have done that sooner. Dim light, seemingly coming from nowhere, filled the room. A brief humming noise surrounded them, and then Joe opened the doors again. White light spilled into the freezer, the glare so bright Julie couldn’t see beyond the door.

  Joe stepped forward and took her arm in a courtly gesture. He placed her mother’s hand on his other arm. “Ladies, we’ve arrived in Gehenna.”

  With that brief announcement, he stepped with them into the light.

  Harrison turned to glare at Bas. The man still had a hand on his arm. “Let me go.” He spoke with a quiet ferocity.

  “She chose to take this journey without you to keep you safe,” Bas said. “Don’t negate her sacrifice.”

  “No.” He wanted to deny what she’d done, the danger she was in.

  “You can’t stop her.” Bas released his arm but Harrison knew it was too late to follow her.

  “Get to the Council circle,” Bas ordered. “Now.”

  Harrison didn’t move. Julie was gone. She’d made a deal with a demon and entered Gehenna, in part to keep him safe from Marguerite’s spell. If, against all odds, she returned, he would have to answer her sacrifice by sitting in judgment on her. There was no doubt that with all the witnesses tonight, she would be brought before the Council for breaking Triad law.

  For the first time ever, Harrison considered walking away from the Triad, from his calling to be the Balance.

  He heard Bas make a sound almost like a growl beside him. “Harrison. Now is not the time to act like a man in love. Move it!”

  A man in love? Harry was still framing a suitable retort when Bas impatiently grabbed him by the shoulders and whisked him into the circle.

  Neither noticed the silver-haired woman standing a half-block away, hidden in the shadows of an awning-covered door.

  “Shouldn’t Gehenna be hot and reddish with a lot of flickering shadows? I thought stepping into the light would happen in Heaven,” Julie whispered across Joe to her mother as she blinked rapidly, wishing for a pair of sunglasses. She felt like she’d stepped into the sterile spaceship of 2001, A Space Odyssey. Everything looked post-modern and much too white.

  “I like to think of Heaven as having ambient lighting,” Jean whispered back. “Warm and kind of cozy.”

  “Oh, nice. I like that too.”

  Joe rolled his eyes and quickened his pace.

  Julie broke into a trot to keep up. For a guy with short legs, he was quick. Her mother had trouble with the pace, breathing heavily. “Slow down or you’ll be dragging Mom.”

  He glanced at her mother and slowed. “Sorry.”

  A voice from behind made her jump. “Being a demon means never having to say you’re sorry. You’ve been on earth too long, Josephius, if you’re apologizing.”

  Joe came to an abrupt halt, and all three of them turned toward the voice. It was Jeffrey, the Norman Rockwell demon from Starbucks.

  He frowned when he saw Julie. “Does the Big Guy know you brought this one with you, Josephius? He wants all contracts cleared through him, first.”

  Joe’s lips thinned. “I’m heading to speak with Abigor now.”

  “He wouldn’t approve my free-will contract with this babe earlier today. He refused to let me hold her to her word and bring her here.”

  Babe? Julie felt a small glow that anyone would consider her a ‘babe.’ Then the rest of what he said sunk in. “What? Abigor wouldn’t have let you take me here? Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were going to come and snatch me away.”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry.” He smirked as he put exaggerated emphasis on the last word. “What was I thinking? We demons don’t like to worry people.”

  Joe ignored the demon’s words, but he didn’t look as confident as he had.

  Jeffrey looked her up and down and then shook his head. “Abigor’s not big on mistakes. You remember what he did to the last demon who messed up? Oh yeah, that was you.”

  Voices could be heard approaching from down the hallway. Jeffrey laughed maliciously. “Here he comes now. Guess we’ll find out what he thinks of the company you brought.”

  Julie, watching Joe, shivered as the blood dropped out of his face. He went completely white. Curious as to what could cause a demon to be so scared, she looked toward the group approaching them. Seven men walked quickly down the hallway, their dark suits smudges against the seamless white of the walls and floor. As they got closer, she heard her mother gasp and glanced quickly at her. Jean put out one hand to steady herself against the wall, her face as pale as Joe’s.

  Julie’s gaze swiveled again to the men, seeking out the reason for her mom’s shocked expression. She met the eyes of the tallest man, striding in front of the group. Everything inside her stilled.

  Seconds, maybe years, passed. As if in slow motion, her heart started beating again, and joy pulsed through her with each pump of blood. Then she realized the significance of what she was seeing.

  “Daddy,” she wailed. “You went to Hell!” She wanted to run to him, to hug him, but her legs wouldn’t move. Joe’s hand had tightened painfully on her arm.

  “Daddy?” Joe hissed in a croaky voice.

  Her father came to a halt several feet in front of them. His eyes traveled from her to her mother. He stood slightly over six feet tall, as strong and powerful as she remembered him. His black suit didn’t have a single crease and his shoes reflected the light as if they’d just been polished. A salesman by trade, he’d always been meticulous about his clothes, very unlike her mother. A thought struck her. Was this the outfit he’d been buried in? She tried to remember, but couldn’t. The memories of that day were locked in a haze of sorrow.

  She’d slipped two pieces of paper into his pocket while he lay in the casket. One had been written by her and one was a picture drawn by Tasha—their personal goodbyes to the man they had loved. Had he seen them?

  He hadn’t said a word yet. His hair was combed back from his widow’s peak, immaculate, the same thick mix of silver and black that he’d had even when she’d been small and he’d been younger. His thin face looked the same, with the high forehead and sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes lit with some emotion that she couldn’t read, but he didn’t look happy.

  Julie shook her head, confused. What was Daddy doing in Hell? Okay, so he lost his temper sometimes, and he and mom constantly “debated” (her mom’s word) about every debatable thing, including whether to go to church on Sundays (Mom went, Dad didn’t), which had obviously been a big mistake on Dad’s part. But Dad was basically a good person—wasn’t he? Her mom and dad had loved each other with a passion that she’d never found in her marriage, with the kind of passion she’d begun to feel for Harry. Dad didn’t deserve to be in Hell.

  Her anger started to build, growing and stretching. She wanted to have a word with God about the whole final judgment process. Heat crackled along her skin, a heat she hadn’t felt since her powers first released.

  Her father’s eyes flashed to her, alert. The men with him took a step back. Good. She hoped they could see how upset she was. She’d negotiate with Abigor for Dad’s release as well as Tasha’s. She wasn’t leaving her father here.

  Her mother suddenly sagged, leaning against the wall. Julie broke Joe’s hold and went to her, holding her arm. Her skin felt like ice. “It’s Daddy, Mom,” Julie whispered, her eyes still on her father. She didn’t doubt that her mother recognized him; she just needed to say the words out loud.

  Her fathe
r made a sharp movement with his hand, and everyone, Joe included, melted away. Just the three of them stood in the quiet hall.

  “Abe?” Her mother’s voice didn’t sound like her.

  “You always were a foolish woman.” He stared at her mother as if he couldn’t stop looking at her. He’d watched her that way when he’d been alive. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “What are you doing here?” Jean struggled to stand straight. Dad didn’t step forward to help her, the way he would have when he was alive.

  “This is where I am.”

  The phrase struck Julie as odd. “You mean you were damned after you died.” Julie clarified slowly, hanging on to her mother’s arm.

  “No.” Her father’s eyes seemed to slice through her. “That’s not what I mean.”

  Julie frowned, too confused to try to sort it out. “Have you seen Tasha? She’s here, too.” How bizarre was that? Her whole family in Hell. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m going to hunt down this Abigor guy. I’ll get you, Tash and Mom out of here.”

  “How are you going to do that?” her father asked.

  She didn’t want to tell him that Abigor might be willing to trade them for her, because it didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Maybe he needed a social worker, or wanted some research done. “I’ll think of something,” she finally said, when one of her father’s thin eyebrows rose in question.

  He regarded her steadily. “I’m Abigor.”

  “No.” Julie shook her head in denial, aware of how still her mother stood. “Abigor is this master demon guy. You’re Abe. My dad. An insurance salesman. A dead insurance salesman.”

  He continued to watch them, not saying anything more. Abe. Abigor. Julie refused to allow her mind to make the connection. Her father was not a head demon. That would make her part demon. No. No. No.

  Her mother took a deep breath and then finally spoke. “Why?” Jean asked quietly.

  “A great war waged in Gehenna. The battle for dominance was not going well. Ashakarin, my enemy, had gained ascendancy in the war. He would not look for me in the home of a powerful Dancer while my forces regrouped.”

  “You ran and hid on earth and duped me into marrying you so you could hide from Ashakarin?” Her mother sounded outraged, more like her normal self. “You lying, gutless demon spawn!”

  Julie stiffened at the insult. Hey, she was demon spawn herself.

  Abigor’s face remained impassive. “You were…unexpected,” he told Jean. “I stayed much longer than I should have, against the advice of my generals. I left only as the final battle began because my personal leadership was needed.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “I loved you with my whole heart. I grieved for you. I still grieve for you.” Julie felt her mother’s pain and sorrow. Her betrayal.

  Abigor nodded. “I know.”

  “You’ve damned our daughter by fathering her. That’s the worst sin of all, Abe.”

  Julie froze. She was damned?

  “Our daughter makes her own choices. She alone among us has that power. I have given her that much.”

  “What do you mean?” Jean asked.

  Yeah, Julie silently echoed. What did he mean?

  “Our daughter is the product of the most powerful demon family and the most powerful Dancer family. She also carries powerful Walker blood.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jean asked.

  “Your mother wasn’t kidnapped, Jean. She went to be with Timothy Walker, your true father, the ruling Lion of Great Britain.”

  “No!” That came from Julie. Her mother was strangely silent.

  “They couldn’t marry because their families wouldn’t allow it, but he gave her the Sky Plate as a pledge of his love. Their children would have been banished as wild powers.”

  “Did my father, my mother’s husband, know that he wasn’t my true father?” Jean asked, finally speaking.

  “No. Your mother couldn’t tell him and risk your banishment. Your mother refused to send you to boarding school, afraid you might exhibit the wild powers of a mixed child. She negated your powers as much as possible.”

  “Until recently, I thought my only power was that of a Sensitive. When I began working with the Gigis, they showed me that I, too, could wield energy in other ways.”

  Abigor nodded. “Your mother met your father again at a Triad gathering when you were fifteen. Once they saw each other, they decided they couldn’t live apart. Your mother ran off with the Walker, planning to come back for you later. Instead, she and the Walker were killed in an accident, and their deaths started a war that almost destroyed your Triad.”

  “Oh my.” Julie put an arm around her mother, feeling the tremor that went through her.

  “Love can make people do stupid things.” Abigor watched Jean as he said the words. Then he turned to Julie. “I want to talk to your mother alone.” He moved his arm. In the blink of an eye, Julie found herself in a white-walled room.

  Damn him! Oh, wait. That would be redundant. Julie slowly sank to the floor, leaning her back against one wall as she stared at the one opposite.

  She trusted her mother to be able to hold her own against her father. That had never been a problem in the past. She pinched herself, hard, hoping this was some bizarre nightmare and she’d wake up in her bed. She broke the skin on her arm, but remained in the silent white room.

  Her dad was a demon! And not just any two-bit demon. He called the shots in Gehenna. She closed her eyes and let that truth sink into her reluctant psyche.

  She was the offspring of evil. A bad seed. Demon genes, if demons had genes, were part of the building blocks of who she was. What exactly did that mean? Did she have the genetic disposition for evil? When under stress, would she suddenly do something like hang her crucifixes upside down or sacrifice virgins?

  She jumped up, unable to even think about it. No. No. No. She didn’t want to be a demon. Aside from any other ramifications, there was no way she and Harry could ever have any kind of relationship. If the rules didn’t allow him a relationship with a Dancer, they sure as hell wouldn’t allow one with a demon/Dancer/Walker hybrid.

  She put up a big red stop sign in her head, a neat little trick that a cognitive psychologist had taught her to use when she wanted to quit thinking unhealthy thoughts. Thinking about her relationship—or non-relationship—with Harry led her down a dark tunnel with no light at the end of it.

  She straightened her shoulders and reviewed her choices. She could succumb to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or she could tuck this trauma into her subconscious—to be dealt with later in intensive therapy—and figure out how to accomplish her original mission to save her daughter. Of course, after saving Tash, she’d have the hard job of explaining to her that Grandpa was a demon. And that she better compare family trees with the cute hunk of a Walker she was dating to make sure they weren’t related.

  Julie leaned her forehead against the smooth wall and groaned. The red stop sign wasn’t working. She had a feeling that orange barrels and wooden roadblocks wouldn’t stop these thoughts. She could almost wish for the good old days when she’d found out her husband thought she was boring, and she would have to raise her daughter as a single parent.

  A thin thread of something trickled through her pity party, tugging her out of her funk. She sucked in her breath and lifted her head, trying to capture it again. That something felt like Tasha. Tasha was near.

  Both her hands came out and touched the wall. She felt energy flowing like static across a television set. She jumped, snatching her hands away. Slowly she put them back, wonder building inside her. In the midst of the chaos, she felt the familiar thread. The life force that she recognized as her daughter.

  She took a step away from the wall and considered her options. Somewhere inside her, if she could only access it, she had the power to get out of this room and follow the energy trail to her daughter. She knew this with a deep certainty.

  She tried to r
emember what Bas had taught her. “You don’t need to look at something to see it,” he’d told her one day in her kitchen, when he’d been trying to teach her to transport a book from her bedroom into the kitchen. She hadn’t known what he meant then, and she still didn’t know, but the words kept running through her head as if they were a key.

  An hour later—at least she thought it was an hour later, her watch had stopped working—she kicked at the wall in frustration. She really, really hated cryptic phrases. Why couldn’t people just say what they meant, straight out?

  She’d tried closing her eyes and letting her senses “see” how to get out of the room. All she had to show for her efforts were several large bruises from walking into the wall. She’d tried looking through and beyond the wall with some magical inner sight, but she didn’t seem to have a magical inner sight. Then she’d thought about strangling Bas, a much more rewarding endeavor, which had taken most of the elapsed hour.

  What good is power if you don’t know how to control it? It’s kind of like dying of thirst in the kitchen because you can’t figure out how to turn the water faucet on.

  She slumped on the floor, dejected. Maybe if she fell asleep, she’d dream the answer. Her unconscious would release it into her relaxed dream state mind. Okay. So it was a stupid idea. But she didn’t have any better ones. She closed her eyes and tried to will her body to sleep. Instead, she felt a surge of energy rush through the room. She sat up straight and opened her eyes.

  She was no longer alone. She blinked, wondering if she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. The vision remained, staring at her with a grim expression.

  Harry!

  Chapter Fifteen

  Julie rubbed her eyes. Harry was still there, though he looked like he’d been through hell and back (or not back, as the case may be). His blond hair poked up around his head, giving him an interesting punk look. Stains and creases marred his white shirt, and his shirttail was half in, half out of the back of his pants. He wore no shoes; his black socks were torn and gray with a layer of dust coating them. “Are you okay?” She scrambled to her feet. “What are you doing here?”