Warmongers and Wands

by Dunbar, Debra

  Hadur chuckled. “He can’t enter the circle. No demons can cross while the boundary is in place. You might want to go to him before he gets too upset and starts burning down the forest.”

  “Shit!” Cassie leapt to her feet and ran out the door. “I’m coming!” she shouted. “Don’t start breaking or burning stuff, I’m coming!”

  “That’s what she said,” I joked, easing off the bed and reaching for the crutches Hadur had made for me. There’s no way I was going to miss this.

  Hadur helped me hobble through the dark of the forest, at one point picking me up and carrying me. The whole way I could hear Cassie and Lucien arguing—hell, I think the whole mountain could hear them arguing.

  “You’re not staying here,” Lucien snarled. “I don’t trust those werewolves not to try something. I can’t get through this barrier to help you if you need me. Who’s in there? What demon is in there? Your sister said a war demon, but I can’t tell through this darned barrier.”

  He didn’t say darned. In fact, he said an entire string of descriptive vulgarities that was too much for even me to repeat.

  “I’m the demon in this summoning circle,” Hadur announced as we walked into the moonlit clearing and gently set me on my feet…foot.

  There was a sudden heaviness in the air. Both demons squared off like gunfighters about to go at it.

  “You’re not staying in there with him,” Lucien snarled. “And neither is your sister. Both of you get out of that circle right now. Get over here by my side. Right now.”

  Bossy stalker. Times like this I wondered what my sister saw in this guy. Then Cassie let loose a diatribe peppered by a whole lot of f-bombs, fire sparking at the end of her fingertips and I realized she was more than capable of putting this demon in his place.

  Lucien backtracked. “He’s a war demon, pookie. He could set you and your sister against each other. He could…he could make you lose your temper. You’re already having to attend those anger management meetings each week. As much as I love your short fuse, I really don’t want you under the influence of a war demon.”

  Pookie? Pookie?

  “I’m not influencing her,” Hadur snapped. “Or Bronwyn. Give me some credit for having control over my powers, you spoiled, lazy, arrogant hellspawn.”

  Fire erupted around Lucien’s arms. “What did you call me? You might want to rethink your words. I do outrank you, war scum.”

  “Yes, you outrank me. Nepotism at its finest. What are you going to do, go crying to your father? Whine that a war demon insulted you?”

  I put a hand on Hadur’s bicep, taking a brief second to admire the muscle under my fingers. “Stop. You just said you have control, but here you are stirring him up. Let’s not have a war between the two of you right now.”

  Hadur growled, my words not registering at all with him. His eyes glowed gold. The bicep under my hand bunched.

  I did something I never thought I’d do—I pulled out the woman card.

  “Oh, my leg!” I leaned against Hadur, my voice breathy. “I think hobbling through the woods strained…something.”

  Hadur instantly snapped out of it, his eyes turning to me in concern. “Should I carry you back to the cabin? Should your sister go get the other sister that heals? Do you need more of that foul-smelling smoothie? My witch, tell me what you need.”

  I swatted him on the arm. “I need you to stop baiting Lucien. He’s my sister’s main squeeze, and if things work out between us, you two are going to have to get along. Especially because you’ll be sitting across from him every Sunday night at family dinner.”

  Both demons looked horrified at the idea. Cassie laughed.

  “Lucien, relax babe. Let me spend one night here making sure my sister is safe, then I’ll be back in your arms. One night. I know you’re worried about me, but this is important. My family is important. They’ll always be a priority to me.”

  He did relax. And smile. “Your family, the town. It’s all a priority to you.”

  “You’re a priority to me too,” she said softly, reaching through the magical barrier to take his hand. “I’ll show you how much of a priority tomorrow night. I promise.”

  Ewww.

  “Okay, show’s over,” I told Hadur. “Carry me back to the cabin, James. Let Cassie and Lucien do some kissy-face in private.”

  When my sister returned to the cabin, she was glowing with that sappy smile on her face that I was beginning to know so well. And this time when I felt happy for her, I didn’t have that usual stab of envy.

  Chapter 11

  Bronwyn

  Ophelia and Sylvie arrived the next morning, loaded down with supplies. Hadur promptly vanished outside with some mumbled excuse about checking the woods for werewolves. I knew that he was really fleeing the overwhelming chaos of having four witches in one tiny cabin.

  Three of which I sincerely hoped would be gone by lunchtime. Or dinnertime at the very latest.

  But for now, I had some clothing besides my 1970s paisley shirt and makeshift wrap skirt—mostly dresses that didn’t require too much work to put on over a splinted leg and a few pairs of sweat pants and t-shirts. There was now a portable toilet, a camp stove, several solar chargers, and bags and bags of chocolate, two bottles of wine, and a disgusting two gallons of Glenda’s smoothies.

  The battery-operated X-ray machine was courtesy of a veterinarian two towns over who used it for cattle and horses. It made sense. Running half a mile of electrical cord from a field wouldn’t have been practical and some barns didn’t have a readily available source of electricity. Either way, it limited the sort of X-rays my sister could take—which made her very grumpy.

  “Yep. Broken tibia,” Ophelia announced, looking at the X-ray on her cell phone. There was no sheet of film with this cool techie device, just a piece of glass that got hooked up via USB. I glanced over my sister’s shoulder and looked at the picture. “Although I’m not a doctor, and I’m strongly suggesting you get airlifted out of here and seen by someone who is a doctor. But from what I can tell, it’s non-displaced and should heal well without surgery.”

  “Guess I should be grateful,” I told her.

  She put her arm around my shoulder. “Yes, you should be grateful. When we came down the mountain yesterday and saw your truck…well, I feared the worst.” Her voice choked with emotion.

  “The only thing that kept her from panic was that the driver’s side door was ripped off the hinges,” Sylvie chimed in. “We looked inside and saw the blood and the twisted dash, but no dead body. It looked like someone had ripped everything apart with one of those jaws of life things, so we figured someone had gotten to you.”

  “I assumed it was the werewolf pack, but Ophelia’s divination said you were in the woods,” Cassie told me. “I’ll admit I was a little scared that meant you were lying somewhere, hurt. Ophelia insisted her divination said you were injured, but alive. We just didn’t know how injured you were.”

  I smiled over at her. “Just a broken leg.”

  I’ll admit Cassie’s presence was starting to grate on my nerves. She hadn’t been here twenty-four hours and I was already giving her less than subtle hints that she should go home. Normally I got along with my elder sister. We shared a bedroom growing up, and out of the whole bunch, she was the one I could normally take on a long-term basis, but the close confines of this cabin and her mother-hen protectiveness and paranoia were more than I could handle.

  Yes, they’d been terrified, afraid they’d lost me. I understood how horrible that must have been. It made me realize that if the werewolves were trying to shake up Cassie, to reduce the power of the Perkins witches over the town and the residents, then killing one of us would do the job. Cassie was a neurotic wreck over my broken leg. If I’d been killed, she would have retreated completely, left the town and the werewolves to their own self-government, left everything to fall apart.

  We needed to be careful. And we needed to find out what happened to my truck, and the who and why beh
ind the sabotage—if it were in fact a sabotage.

  “Yes, just a broken leg.” Ophelia squeezed my shoulder then started to pull some gauze and supplies from her bag. “Now I’m going to make you a real cast. It’s not gonna be fun. I’ve got to extend it to cover your leg above the knee and below the ankle.”

  I grimaced, realizing that this was going to hinder my mobility even more than Hadur’s splint. But I did want my leg to be properly stabilized so it could heal correctly. And I could put up with it for twelve to fourteen weeks. Four if I could manage to choke down Glenda’s smoothies.

  Ophelia unpacked more supplies from her bag and got to work gently wrapping a liner around my leg. She then wet the fiberglass cast material and wrapped it around the liner.

  By the time she was done, I had a bright pink cast extending from above my knee to below my ankle. It was heavier than Hadur’s splint had been, but it did a much better job of holding my lower leg immobile. No more aches. No more pain every time I moved. And the best thing of all? It was some special waterproof cast that meant I didn’t have to bathe in the tub with my leg stuck over the side.

  Once it was dry and hardened, I slid out of the bed and stood, taking the crutches Ophelia handed me. I made my way across the room, put the crutches in one hand, and lowered myself into a chair.

  “Thank you,” I sighed. As nice as it had been to have Hadur carry me here and there, this gave me a level of freedom I hadn’t had for days. I could freely move about the cabin without pain, get myself a drink or a book, or even go to the bathroom without assistance. And with those horrible smoothies Glenda had sent, I should be back to normal in a month.

  Ophelia held up her hands. “My work here is done. I’ll be back to check on you this weekend. If you need anything in the meantime, send me a message via raccoon.”

  My sisters had discovered the no-cell-signal dead spot encompassed far more than just the area around Hadur’s cabin. Pretty much this entire side of the mountain had spotty, if nonexistent, coverage. Cassie would have needed to climb up past the road and up almost to the werewolf compound to get a signal.

  And that wasn’t something we wanted to do.

  Ophelia had carried in the medical supplies, the clothing, and the portable potty, but Sylvie had the heavier load. She was the one with the books. And the wine. And a bag with who-knows-what in it.

  “Here are the journals.” She set a stack next to me on the table. “From the time period you specified, there were six journals. I also have a copy of the genealogy chart of the Perkins family from that time period. Then I grabbed four spell books that I thought might have information on summoning and releasing demons.” She shrugged. “If there’s nothing in there, then we’ll have to start reading through the other books. I’m not too optimistic on any of this, Wynnie. From what I know, we Perkins witches have never been involved with demons. Well, beyond Cassie shacking up with one, that is.”

  “What’s in the bag?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  Sylvie winked and set the bag on the table. “Oh, just a few things for you and Hadur.”

  “Not while I’m staying here,” Cassie protested.

  “Yes, well, you’ll be leaving before nightfall,” I countered with the argument I’d been making since I woke up this morning next to my sister and not the hunky demon.

  Sylvie and Ophelia said their goodbyes, both kissing me on my cheek and telling me they’d check in every few days. Six sisters. That was going to be a whole lot of checking in. I fully expected that even Babylon would make a special trip back to Accident just to make sure I was okay, and she generally only came home for Sunday family dinner.

  After they left, I turned to my elder sister. “You know, we really need to address the eight-hundred-pound werewolf in the room.”

  “Dallas isn’t that fat,” she joked. Actually, Dallas wasn’t fat at all. Very few of the werewolves carried any extra weight. There was a lot of social pressure in the pack to look like you spent most of your day at the gym or running through the woods on four legs.

  “I mean it, Cassie. They know we’re here. Hadur said they avoid this area, probably not wanting to become another pelt on the bed, so they know he’s here. Dallas sent Stanley down to get me, so they know I’m here. They’re werewolves. They’ve got an insane sense of smell and they’re territorial. They knew the moment you all drove up here yesterday to look for me. They know you’re staying here in the cabin. They probably knew the moment Sylvie and Ophelia left.”

  “Good. Maybe they’ll know not to mess with you again.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest, a stubborn set to her jaw. “Two witches and a demon? And Lucien pacing my floor back home eager to beat the crap out of anyone? They won’t dare mess with us.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. An entire pack of werewolves—well, a pack minus the dozen or so that Clinton had in his splinter pack—wasn’t an easy win even with two witches and possibly two demons. They had numbers on their side and even with demon assistance, we could only do so much. If they hit us hard and fast, there was a good chance we’d be dead before Lucien or our sisters could reach us.

  Grief over my death would have shattered the family emotionally. Grief plus the loss of Cassie, the strongest witch the town had seen since Temperance Perkins, would mean the werewolves or other supernaturals who wanted to run things their way in Accident would be unchecked.

  “Cassie, we’re more vulnerable with you here then with you in the town,” I told her. “Go up to the compound. Tell Dallas about the brakes on my truck being messed with. Put him on notice that I’m here and that any attempt to harm me or ‘rescue’ me will be considered an act of war. Tell him any move against me and Hadur will not only result in the entire supernatural community of Accident including six witches coming down on him, it will result in the entire pack’s expulsion from the protections of the town. No more mountain. No more pack. They’d need to try to live under the radar among the humans with the constant threat that they’d be hunted down and executed.”

  Cassie shook her head. “He’ll deny they had anything to do with your truck. He’ll be offended I’d even suggest such a thing, insist with wide-eyes that he sent Stanley to rescue you from the big bad demon. Then he’ll pinch my ass and try to grope my boobs.”

  She was right. But I was right, too.

  “Of course he’ll deny it, but he’ll know that you know.”

  “And I’ll know that he knows that I know.”

  “And he’ll know that,” I pointed out with a grin. “Put him on notice. Then go back to Lucien before he wears out your floors worrying about you. You guys can check on me every day or so, but you can’t stay here. You’re driving me nuts. You’re driving Hadur nuts. And my best bet for safety is not your presence, but the fear of a harsh reprisal if anything happens to me.”

  She sighed. “Fine. Honestly, I need to get out of here anyway. I’ve got cases at work. And Lucien. And I really don’t want to see you and that demon using whatever sex toys Sylvie brought in that bag.”

  “Go talk to Dallas, then come back and let me know what happened. Then go home.”

  She nodded and stood. “Okay. You get your way. I’m not happy about leaving you here alone, and I’m definitely not happy about leaving you here with that demon, but you’re a grown woman. And what you said does make sense.”

  “I’m the smartest one of the family,” I told her. “So go. Do as I say.”

  She grinned. “Fine. And you might be smart about this stuff, but not about romance. I’m worried about you, Wynnie. Be careful. That demon is dangerous, and for all your sass and swagger, you’re too sweet and trusting. Don’t let good sex make you ignore all the red flags. Guard your heart. I don’t know that I trust that demon out there. Be careful.”

  She might not trust that demon, but I did. “I’ll be careful,” I assured her, knowing full well that I’d already made my decision about Hadur.

  I dove right into the genealogy and the diaries as soon as Cassie left, only gla
ncing up when Hadur returned to the cabin.

  “I thought maybe my sisters had scared you back to hell,” I teased him.

  “Trust me, if I could have run away, I probably would have.” He came over to the table, then stopped to survey Ophelia’s handiwork on my leg.

  “I can get in and out of bed on my own and hobble around the cabin,” I told him. “Although I still might insist that you carry me from time to time, just for the romance of it all.”

  “I live to serve, my witch.”

  The words still sent a thrill through me, even though they’d changed. Hadur had originally delivered the statement in a voice of desperation with a vow of servitude. Now they seemed teasing, sexy, less about him being my obedient demon and more about him being my partner.

  I liked that. I wanted that. Although the other thing still made for some fun sexy-times fantasies.

  “It’s very pink.” He knelt down to touch the cast.

  “I know. Ophelia’s quite the comedienne sometimes. Wanna sign it?” I grabbed a Sharpie off the table and handed it to him. “You write your name, or some funny saying, or draw a picture. It’s traditional when someone has a cast.”

  He uncapped the marker and drew a sigil. Then, with a grin, he encircled it with a heart.

  “Is that you?” I asked.

  “That’s me. We’re normally very cautious about others knowing our sigil, but since I’m currently trapped in a summoning circle, it really doesn’t matter.”

  “So, if someone used this sigil to summon you, they’d get nothing because you’re already trapped?”

  “Yes, aside from a few special circumstances.”

  “What is used to summon, might be used to banish,” I mused.

  “Yes, but hopefully you’re not going to banish me; you’re going to set me free.” He handed the marker back to me. “Banishing returns me to hell, and I won’t be able to come back unless I’m summoned again, or receive a task requiring my work here, or if I’m granted leave time and given a coin so Charon could transport me here.”