by Lisa Emme
“Harry,” Jon said again. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
I looked back to the woman who had started the attack. She was frothing at the mouth and tearing at her clothes as if burned by acid. The imp must still be in possession. Why didn’t the little bugger let her go?
“Everybody freeze. Don’t move.”
Two police officers dashed into view, guns drawn. Jon and Eric quickly dropped their squirt guns to the floor and put their hands up.
“Harry? Is that you?” One of the cops glanced over at me in surprise as the other crouched beside the manager to check his pulse.
“Georgia, hey. Yeah, it’s me.” Georgia was a local beat cop who often stopped by the coffee shop.
“What the hell happened here?”
“I won’t do it anymore!” Pushing to her knees, the woman from the hospital grabbed the knife and sprang to her feet. “I won’t do it anymore!” She waved the weapon in front of her and charged towards the cop kneeling by the manager.
“Look out!” I shouted, as the crowd erupted into chaos.
BANG!
BANG!
Georgia fired her gun, hitting the woman centre mass. She lurched backwards, her body stiffening and then falling to the floor.
She was dead instantly. Her spirit stood beside her body and looked at me pleadingly. “This isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to live again. Not this. Never this.”
An imp peeled itself from her fallen body. It ran towards the ghost, and as I sat stunned, it sucked in a deep breath, swallowing down the woman’s spirit. It turned to face me, smiling with sharp crooked teeth, and then disappeared from view with an audible pop.
“All I wanted was a few groceries,” I said to no one in particular, but I couldn’t fail to hear Jon’s derisive snort.
Chapter Twenty
“He has to be stopped. We can’t just sit back and let him kill more norms,” I said as I paced the length of the room. I was still wound up from the events of the afternoon. “And making deals with them, bringing them back from the dead only to drive them crazy so they kill themselves? It has to end!”
“I absolutely agree with you, pequeña.”
“We have an obligation, you have a… Wait a minute.” I came to an abrupt halt and stared at Salvador in surprise. “Did you just say that I was right?”
Salvador arched an eyebrow and looked at me from over his fingers, which he held steepled at his chin. As usual, he had arrived uninvited to the firehall with Tomas in tow while I was in the shower. I had only been home a short time after I’d finally been allowed to leave the grocery store. As expected, when the police and dead bodies were involved, the remainder of the afternoon had entailed a lot of sitting around and waiting, as well as numerous repetitions of our story. And, since dead bodies were involved, it also meant I had to suffer all the dirty looks Nash threw my way once he arrived on scene. Luckily for me, Nash seemed to prefer to bawl me out the old-fashioned way, so he kept our telepathic communication—a side effect of the mate mark and blood sharing—to a brief, “Are you okay?” followed by an “Are you fucking out of your mind?” Jon and Eric hadn’t been quite so lucky. They had left the store shortly before me, their metaphoric, if not actual, tails between their legs after a thorough reaming out by Nash.
“I was never merely sitting back and letting anyone do anything, my dear Harry. I have my own irons in the fire, as they say.” Salvador’s tone had lost some of its amused edge.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t like the sound of that. He was up to something and knowing him it was more for his benefit than the norm population’s.
“Now, tell me about these,” Salvador continued. He gestured at the water guns I had dumped on the coffee table during my recounting of the afternoon’s events. “I’m most curious to know if they would work directly on the daemons themselves or only on those possessed?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was Tess’s idea.”
Tess glared at me and then turned to Salvador. “I really don’t know, Magister. I would imagine so. Although maybe only the imps?” She gave a little shrug, her cheeks colouring. “I mean from what Harry said, the one imp seemed to be more resistant than the other. I wonder if that’s because that particular imp was stronger? And, by that logic, the more powerful daemons might also be immune.”
Salvador nodded. “Yes, yes. I see your point.” He made a show of checking his watch. “You seem to have it all under control, pequeña. I will leave you to your plans. Tomas will remain as my liaison.” He rose gracefully and stalked towards the door.
“Under control? Wait a minute. That’s it?” I chased after Salvador, heading him off at the door. “You told me to butt out a few days ago, but now you’re just going to leave it to me to figure out?”
Salvador paused, giving me an appraising look. “Why, yes,” he said, followed by one of his trademark shrugs. “That’s exactly what I am doing.”
I opened my mouth to tell Salvador what I thought of that idea, but a ruckus across the room interrupted me.
“What the hell?” Tomas jumped from his seat, the chair falling backwards with a crash. He glared down at Tess from across the table and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his face. “Did you just shoot me with a squirt gun?”
Tess smirked. “I thought we’d better test it out. Wouldn’t want any vamps going up in smoke if we decide to use these on the daemons.”
Stifling a laugh—Tomas didn’t need to know that Isaac had already safely tested the water—I turned back to Salvador, but he was gone.
“So what’s the plan, Harry?” Tess looked at me, the smirk still on her face. “It’s not like you can just walk right up to Seth and say, ‘Excuse me, I’m here to close the portal.’” She held her fingers up and made air quotes as she spoke. “And I doubt if he’ll believe in a voluntary change of heart.”
Heaving a sigh, I flopped down on the couch. I sat for a minute, my mind going a mile-a-minute, and then I smiled at Tess. “No, but who said it had to be voluntary?”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I got it… I got it…”
Pop!
I watched in disgust as my protective dome imploded on itself. I had been trying for several hours under Max’s guidance to learn to set a circle without having to prep the area first. “I don’t got it,” I groaned, unable to keep the dejection from my voice.
“Pew, pew.” Tess grinned evilly as she pelted me with pennies.
“Ouch! Tess! Will you knock it off already?” I ducked as another copper projectile flew past.
“It wouldn’t hurt if you had your shield up,” Tess replied with a smirk.
“Gee, thanks for pointing out the obvious. Whatever would I do without you?”
“No problem. Glad to help.”
Max breathed a tired sigh. “I have to agree with Harry, Tess. I don’t think you’re helping at this point. Harry needs to concentrate.”
I beamed at Max for coming to my defense. When Salvador had made his exit, leaving me in charge of coming up with a plan to defeat Seth, I had called the mage, hoping to elicit some assistance. Max had offered to teach me to create a snap circle, an instant protective circle. It was meant as a personal defense and piggybacked on a witch’s or mage’s existing shields, requiring no prior preparation. Just set the spell, and Bam! You were protected from harm under your own personal magical dome. So far I hadn’t been able to do much, except temporarily protect myself to the height of my knees for about three seconds before the bubble burst.
“Try it again, Harry.” Max moved to stand between Tess and me, blocking me from Tess’s abuse.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, finally turning my back to them to try and centre myself to make another attempt. If I could just get this safety precaution mastered, I would have a better chance of getting Nash to go along with the plan we had hatched.
***
“Absolutely not. I forbid it.” Nash crossed his arms and
pinned me with a fierce glare.
“Excuse me?” I gave him my best WTF face. “I don’t remember asking your permission, nor do I need it.”
“Oh, boy.” Tess looked around the room, gathering Max and Tomas up with her glance. “Maybe we should give them some privacy.”
“Just when it’s starting to get interesting?” Tomas smirked and leaned back in his seat as if preparing to watch the entertainment.
“Put a sock in it, fangboy. There’s not going to be any show.” I turned to look at Nash but addressed the group. “If Nash would just dial back on the alpha male crap, he’d realize that I’m our only option. I’m the only one who can close the portal.”
Nash’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, and then another. “How long until she’s able to put up the protection without fail, every time?” Nash directed his question to Max, ignoring me.
Max shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a fairly advanced skill. I’ve had students require months to master it.” He gave me a pensive look. “Harry has a strong foundation for her shields and is a quick study. I imagine she’ll get it sooner than later.”
“The full moon is in ten days. We should strike when our force is at its strongest. You have until then.”
Great, no pressure.
***
“I’m sorry.”
Nash grunted in response and nuzzled his face against my neck. We were in bed and despite doing our best to wear each other out, I couldn’t sleep. The afternoon’s incident at the grocery store kept replaying in my head.
“Go to sleep, Harry.” Nash tightened his arm around me where I lay spooned up against him. “What’s done is done. No point worrying about the past.”
“Easy for you to say. It’s my fault the manager is dead.” I rolled to my back and stared up at the ceiling.
Nash stirred, rising up on his elbow to look down on me. “No, it’s not. You aren’t responsible for that man’s death, the demon is.”
“But—”
Nash put a finger to my lips. “No. Quit torturing yourself and get some sleep. You need your strength so you’re ready for when we face Seth.”
I lifted my head and gave him a kiss. “Thank you.”
Nash arched an eyebrow at me. “For what?”
“For understanding that I can’t just sit on the sidelines.”
Nash grimaced and took a deep breath. “Just promise me you’ll stay in the safety of your circle and not take any unnecessary risks.”
“I promise.”
***
“I’m just running upstairs. I won’t be long.” I gave Barbie a quick wave and then ducked down the hall to leave through the back door.
“Harry, wait!” Jon hustled after me. “You’re supposed to let me go first.”
I sighed in exasperation and stopped in front of the door, allowing him to pass by. “Fine. After you,” I huffed.
My temper was a bit frayed. Three days had passed since what I would forever think of as the Piggly Wiggly Incident, and I continued to be on lockdown, my movements restricted to working at the coffee shop or hanging out upstairs. Cabin fever was beginning to set in, even though I had plenty of company. The apartment had become a war room with Tomas representing the vampires and Nash speaking for the pack. Max was also a frequent visitor as the resident demonologist.
Our plans had been laid, but I had only successfully raised a snap circle twice, so I was feeling the pressure. It was still a week until the full moon and the waiting was killing me, making me feel antsy. I hated just sitting around while norms continued to die. Seth had carried out on his threat, and the HRN incidents had increased with Nash and Dev called out every day to at least one new gruesome death. It meant I had hardly seen Nash since the fiasco at the grocery store.
I followed Jon out the door into the parking lot behind my building and stopped in my tracks.
“What the…?”
Jon lay on the ground, a feathered tranquilizer dart sticking out of his neck. I crouched beside him and checked his pulse. It was steady.
“Harry! Get back in—”
Phhht!
Eric, who had come up behind me, slapped his hand to his neck and then toppled to the ground.
I blinked in surprise, coming to my senses, and I jumped to my feet, turning back towards the shop. A man stepped out of the shadows from behind the recycling bin and raised his hand.
Zzzttttzzzttt!
The sizzling tick of a stun gun was the last sound I heard as the probes of the Taser took me square in the chest and my body began to convulse uncontrollably.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I was having another nightmare, or at least a serious case of déjà vu. I was back at the warehouse, my arms bound above me, suspended between two columns. The air was filled with chanting and the screams of DiCastro’s victims. I shook my head, feeling groggy and tested the chains holding me. They held tight. There was a movement to my right, and I turned a blurry gaze to see a man approach. It was DiCastro, dressed in his Egyptian finery.
“You’re awake at last,” he said.
I shook my head slowly in denial. This felt too real to be a dream, but how else could DiCastro be here?
“No. You’re dead. Go away,” I said, tugging at my chains again. This couldn’t be happening. I had to be dreaming.
DiCastro leaned towards me, leering at me. “You’re mine now.”
“No!”
I smashed my forehead into his face, gasping at the very real pain it caused. DiCastro reared back, holding his nose. Good. I hoped it was broken.
“Now, sugar, that’s no way to greet a friend.”
What the fuck? Confused, I watched as DiCastro’s face slowly melted and his body swelled, his clothes morphing into a distinctive, cobalt-blue suit, until finally Seth grinned back at me. The chanting and screams fell away, replaced by the sound of dance tunes and slot machines.
“I was just messin’ with you, darlin’. All in good fun, don’t you know?” He turned away, snapping his fingers and the chains holding me disappeared.
My arms fell to my sides, stinging with pins and needles. How long had I been hanging there? I rubbed them, trying to get the blood flowing again, and looked around. I was back at Wishes, standing beside the fountain, but the usual crowd was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully that meant it was still early and I hadn’t been unconscious all that long. The sting of being electrocuted came back to me as I remembered what had happened, and I rubbed the spot on my chest where the prongs of the Taser had bit in.
“You have a strange definition of fun.” I scowled at Seth.
He snapped his fingers again, and a table, the white wicker one, appeared. “Ah now, sugar, don’t be angry. You brought it on yourself, after all, with your willful misbehaviour.” He waved a hand at the empty chair. “Have a seat, and we’ll kiss and make up.”
I glared at him, unwilling to move. “I think I would prefer to—”
“SIT!”
Unused to his commands being ignored, Seth’s composure snapped, his eyes flashing and his teeth elongating as his human visage slipped. He pointed at me, and I found myself scooped up by an invisible force and deposited roughly in the chair. He cleared his throat and smoothed his hands down his suit, tugging at the bottom of his vest.
“There now, was that so difficult?” He arched an eyebrow over his once-again blue eyes and glared down at me. I inclined my chin but refused to answer, watching him warily. Unbuttoning his jacket, Seth sat down across from me and reached for the pitcher of lemonade. “Now we can sit like two civilized people and discuss our partnership.”
I watched as he poured us each a drink, my mind reeling. What was I supposed to do now? This wasn’t what we’d planned. I wasn’t supposed to get kidnapped until next week. Oh, well. I’d just have to wing it and hope for the best.
Seth held his lemonade up. “C’mon now, sugar. Down the hatch.” He smiled toothily and took a long sip.
Leaning forward, I started to reach for my gla
ss, and then pushed up from my chair, springing backwards away from the table.
“Circulum!” I shouted, coming to a crouch low to the floor.
There was a crack and a green flash of light, and then I found myself surrounded by the steady hum of a protective circle. I did it! The hours of practicing with Max had paid off. The protective dome was only big enough for me to sit on the floor, but it was intact. What can I say? Beggars can’t be choosers, and mastering the skill was still a work in progress.
“What is this?” Seth roared, pushing the table away. It flipped, the lemonade crashing to the floor. He strode towards me, becoming less human-looking with each step, and I flinched involuntarily, barely remembering in time to hold my ground and not break the circle. He stopped at the edge, which was discernible only as a thin, film-like sphere, similar to a soap bubble. “What have you done, you little twitchy witch?”
Seth reached out a gnarled finger to touch the edge of the dome and it sizzled—so close to my head it made me duck—and a spark of light raced across its surface to zap his finger. It reminded me of one of those lamps I wanted as a kid, the kind that looked like a glass ball with coloured lightning inside.
“What is this?” Seth roared again. He paced the edge, ranting.
Sitting cross-legged and stooped over in my circle—I really needed to practice making them bigger—I held my hands out in front of me and began to chant quietly.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Seth slapped his hands against the barrier, the resulting electric crack causing me to jump. “Stop it! Stop what you’re doing!”
I ignored him and kept chanting. In my mind’s eye I could see my magic flowing out from my centre, drawing my power and shaping my will as I spoke the words:
“Hecate, Queen of the Night,
Goddess of the Crossroads,
Hear my plight.
Lend me strength to close
That which should not be open,
To put this wrong to right.”
I continued to chant, my magic taking on an amorphous green form, circling above me—the bounds of my ring of protection had no effect on it—and then it arced away to encapsulate the flame in the fountain’s small brazier. For a second, nothing happened, and I found myself holding my breath. I pushed again with my power, willing the portal to close, but it had been open so long, it wouldn’t budge.