She looked so much like Betty Boop it wasn’t even funny. I might have taken Marilyn Monroe’s name, I might even dress like her the majority of the time, but I definitely lacked the curves. Belle “Betty Boop” Mason did not lack the curves.
Luther looked her up and down, his gaze slow. “How fast can your Coven move?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting hers.
“Excuse me?” she replied.
“If you need an explanation, then you are already too slow. There are Hellhounds being sent to take Ellie Jacobs. To Hell. And if they are not already here, they are close.”
“Monroe,” I corrected sullenly.
I moved between Lucas and Luther. The two of them weren’t fighting anymore. At this point, collaboration was probably best.
There was a low growl outside the store, and I flinched as a foul smell permeated the shop. My aunt came unfrozen.
“The back!” she cried.
Luther shook his head. “Too late for that.”
He moved toward the door, his gait calm. At the entrance, he turned, his eyes glowing red. A quick look passed between him and Lucas.
The fallen Angel grabbed Bernice and I by the arm just as Luther flung open the door. The sulfuric smell was suddenly unbearable as the Hellhounds came into view, two large dog-like creatures dominating the scene outside. I wondered briefly if they were invisible to the people on the street. This was New Orleans. The streets were rarely empty.
“Ember,” I heard Luther say.
Lucas backed Bernice and I toward Aunt Clara and Belle. The two women were quiet, their eyes on the Demon’s back.
“We came for the girl,” the Hound in question growled.
“Well, see, that’s a hard one,” Luther said as he scratched his head absently. “The thing is, I have marked the girl. For now, she belongs to me.”
A searing sensation wove its way across my lower back.
“To us,” Lucas cut in, his jaw clenched
I grabbed my back. The pain was sharp, intense, and I didn’t have my powers or an amulet to keep Luther from messing with me.
“What is it?” I whisper-yelled to Bernice as I lifted my dress up past my hips and panties. Compared to the pain, modesty could shove it! It hurt!
Bernice’s eyes widened. “Um, it’s a tattoo of a black serpent curled around a thorny rose.”
“A freaking tattoo?” I hissed. “Seriously?”
A tramp stamp. Luther had given me a tramp stamp! The Demon was nothing if not dramatic.
A stream of smoke weaved through the room, and everyone but Luther and Lucas coughed. The smell, the density … it was all too much.
“You play a dangerous game, Demon. You are already out of favor with our master,” the Hound pointed out.
Luther grasped the door’s frame, his stance comfortable. “Aw, you know me, dog. I’ve always had a thing for gambling.”
More smoke filled the room. Luther’s words were angering the creature. If someone didn’t do something soon, he’d get us killed.
I started whispering under my breath, the spell’s concept a simple one. Push the smoke out of the room while weaving a protection spell around the shop’s exterior.
I wasn’t expecting the explosion.
CHAPTER 5
Quartz, blood, and an incantation. It works! I wasn’t sure it would at first. After all, the spell is one I created myself, but it works. Using twine, I took the spelled quartz and created an amulet. As long as it is wrapped around my neck, Demonic energy is bearable. I can still feel it, but it’s bearable. I’m still not sure what it means. I still don’t understand why I even feel Demons at all.
~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~
One moment I was standing, the next I was on my butt on the floor with my back against the wooden frame of a shattered display case while Luther knelt beside me and Lucas behind. NeeCee was sprawled on the floor still clutching the grimoire near my feet, and my Aunt Clara and Belle were leaning against the wall near the door where they had entered.
The shop’s entrance was blown away, the exterior open now to the elements, and the Hellhounds were gone. Or if not gone, then hopefully knocked backwards. Luther glanced down at me, his handsome, strong face streaked with ash.
“What was that?” he asked.
I winced, my gaze moving from his to Bernice to my aunt. Clara was shaking her head, her eyes full of a disappointment I knew Bernice was used to. But I wasn’t Bernice, and I was not good at being wrong, underappreciated, or condemned. I clenched my jaw.
“Um … Did I forget to mention that NeeCee’s, that’s my cousin by the way, magic is slightly unpredictable?”
Luther choked. “Slightly?”
Okay, so he had me there. It was way more than slightly unpredictable. I shrugged.
“It worked though, right? I don’t see any Hellhounds,” I said, the hope in my voice audible.
Luther sat up, glass falling with small tinkling sounds to the hardwood floor, his expression hard.
“Witch …” he began, his eyes meeting mine. “Do me a favor, would you?”
I nodded, my lips pressed together.
“Don’t help,” he finished.
It was more than a little humiliating, and I looked at my cousin. Did she always feel this way? Her intentions were good. I knew that. I hadn’t realized how uncontrolled her magic was. Until now. I had misjudged her badly. We all had. It wasn’t that her magic was inept, it was powerful. Controlling it would take a heck of a lot of practice. It made me miss my Demonic hang up.
And then I glanced back at Luther, and I suddenly didn’t miss it as much.
I threw up my hands. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
Belle was standing now, gaping at the damage I’d managed to do. I hated to think what would’ve happened had I attempted a major spell.
“It’s going to take the whole Coven to fix this,” Belle breathed.
As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough.
“I’m sorry,” NeeCee whispered next to me.
I glanced in her direction. She may have swapped magic with me, but if she hadn’t, I never would have realized her potential. NeeCee was going to be one hell of a witch one day if she ever got over the whole I’m not up to par mentality. Which, in all fairness, was really partly my fault too.
“Seriously, don’t apologize,” I answered softly. “If this wasn’t Aunt Clara’s shop, that would have been cool as crap.”
Luther could be angry all he wanted, but truth was, I was still just a little power dizzy. I’d never had that much power at my fingertips. Or if I had, I still didn’t know how to use it.
I pushed myself off the floor as sirens sounded in the distance. The Hellhounds may have been invisible to the people outside, but the explosion definitely hadn’t been. A few curious onlookers cautiously approached the wreckage.
“Everyone okay in there?” a man yelled.
Luther moved to the back of the store. “We need to get out of here,” he said.
No one argued. My aunt looked too shocked to do much more than shake her head. Over and over, she shook it.
“I think Bernice’s magic is actually more dangerous in your hands than it ever was in hers,” my aunt muttered.
My eyes narrowed. “Look … “ I began.
Luther grabbed me by the arm, pulling me behind him.
“There’s no time. You and, er, Bernice?” Luther paused. “Really? Bernice?” he asked.
I arched a brow. “Family name,” I said, my tone laced with pity.
Luther shook his head. “And I thought my family had issues.”
Lucas snorted. “And here I thought leaving was urgent.”
Luther smiled, his amusement obvious. “Right on, Glow Boy. Um ... Bernice, “ Luther coughed into his hand, “and Monroe leave with us. Now.”
My aunt glanced dazedly at the Demon as the sirens outside infiltrated the scene. There was no time for second thoughts. Luther had already started backing Bernice and I through the back entran
ce when Clara’s voice rose above the chaos.
“Belle, you go with them. And remember, you represent the Coven.”
This just kept getting better and better. My power had been swapped with my younger cousin whose magic was overwhelmingly unpredictable, a Demon and fallen Angel from my past were now dragging me out of a shop I had accidentally destroyed, and Betty Boop was being ordered to guard two celestial beings with motives I didn’t even care to explore. This was going to be so much fun. And the only protest I could manage …
“A tattoo?” I asked Luther as he pulled us out into a back alley.
There was a building next door that housed a disreputable bar and grill known as McGulley’s. The disreputable part wasn’t because of the food, it was because the owner dabbled in prostitution. During the day, the building masqueraded as an eatery. At night, well …
“It adds character,” Luther remarked.
Character, my ass!
“What are you doing?” Belle asked, and I looked up to find Luther raising a chain stretched across the back of the bar, a lock dangling from its middle.
“We need to get away, Mia Dolce. And my usual mode of transportation is a little conspicuous at the moment,” Luther answered.
“Mia Dolce?” I asked.
The chain on the bar’s door fell open.
“It means ‘my sweet’,” Lucas supplied.
If Angels were the type to roll their eyes, I think Lucas would have done so. I wasn’t an Angel, I was mortal. I pretended to retch.
“This is illegal, you know,” NeeCee whispered.
She sounded scared, and I reached for her hand.
The back interior of McGulley’s was dark, shadows cloaking what appeared to be luxurious furniture. Several four-poster beds dominated a back wall. I felt bile rise up in my throat. So the rumors about McGulley’s were true. It made me wonder why the cops hadn’t ousted the operation. I suppose it depended on the bar’s clientele.
“Niiiice,” Luther drawled. Of course, he would think so.
Luther had a slight Italian accent. I knew it was because he preferred staying in Italy when he was on Earth. Maybe it was because I was American, but the way he said the word nice sounded clandestine. Or maybe that was just all Luther. Either way, I shivered.
We snuck through the back, being careful not to trip over items I didn’t care to put a name to. I feared Bernice’s innocence was getting more than a little tested, but she never said anything, although her grip on my hand tightened. It didn’t loosen until Luther came to an exit leading out into another alley. This one was quieter, the sirens dulled by the sounds of pedestrians, cars, and horse drawn carriages. I had a rather belated thought concerning my aunt and insurance. Let’s hope the shop was covered.
“Are we going to Italy?” I asked.
It seemed the obvious solution. S.O.S. headquarters was in Italy. My brother, Ethan, was there as well.
Luther looked over his shoulder. “No. They’ll be expecting that.”
“Then where?”
Lucas sidled up next to me, his arm against mine in the narrow alley. I was tall for a girl, but Luther and Lucas both towered over me by a good five inches.
“He won’t expect us to stay here,” Lucas said.
Luther nodded in agreement.
Belle cleared her throat. “We could go to my place. I’m fairly new to the Coven, so it might not be on the radar.”
Luther smiled. “Grand idea.”
I didn’t think it was grand at all. Italy sounded so much more appealing than Betty Boop’s house. I fervently hoped she wasn’t the type to hang her bras from the shower to dry.
Belle flushed as we turned toward her, motioning to the opposite end of the alley toward a short chain link fence. “I’m two blocks that way,” she said.
Luther bowed, the gesture charming. “After you.”
I kept waiting for Belle to giggle, but she turned and walked away instead, her head held high. She made it to the fence and climbed it easily. How she managed with her build was beyond me, but she made it look effortless.
I scrambled over after Lucas, using his hand to help me down the opposite side. NeeCee was next, and she threw me the grimoire before climbing awkwardly, her arms shaking as she slipped.
I moved to the fence and faced her through the chain links.
“Feed off of him, NeeCee,” I whispered.
I knew she felt the energy from Luther at her back. Even with the amulet exposed, she would be getting a pretty distinct hum. She had almost all modern spells memorized. With my magic, Luther’s energy, and a nice incantation for agility and speed, she could accomplish a lot.
My eyes met hers, and she nodded before murmuring under her breath. I counted to ten and knew when the look in her eyes changed and her cheeks colored that she felt the rush of magic. It wasn’t overwhelming like hers. It was steady, confident. She made it over the fence faster than Belle had, leaving me gazing at Luther’s dark green eyes. I handed the grimoire back to NeeCee.
“Nice, Witch. Teach her to use the dark side,” Luther said.
His sarcasm irritated me.
“It’s where you come from, isn’t it?”
He smiled before scaling the fence, landing confidently next to me. “Yes, but I enjoy being there.”
“Who doesn’t?”
My question threw him and he took my elbow. Belle started moving again.
“Oh ho, Witch! Are you saying you like being bad?” Luther asked.
I ignored him, and he dropped my arm, moving back to cover the rear now that Lucas was near the front. The Angel and Demon seemed to hate each other, but they worked well together.
“Do you or Lucas have a nickname?” I asked.
Luther was quiet a moment. “Why?”
I shrugged. “Because it can get confusing after a while. You know, Lucas, Luther.”
He leaned toward me. “You’re asking if there’s another name you can call one of us by?”
I nodded.
“Think about your back, Witch,” he answered.
I glanced down at my dress, at the tattoo I knew was there. A thorny rose with a serpent wrapped around it. I shook my head.
“I don’t understand.”
“Thorne,” he answered. “In Hell, I’m sometimes known as Thorne. You’re welcome to use it, but I prefer Luther.”
I glanced up at him, my face too near his. “Why Thorne?”
He smiled, exposing sharpened teeth that visibly smoothed as I watched. “Because I look pretty, but get too close, and I bite.”
I groaned. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“You try living in Hell,” he said. “You either grow a backbone or lose it. Literally.”
And with that, Thorne moved past me, his eyes on Belle as she entered a small but fairly clean apartment complex near the outskirts of the French Quarter. Even as small as it was, she must pay a fortune for the place. This close to the Quarter, the rent was vicious. It’s why my aunt lived above her store.
Belle climbed two flights of stairs before finally entering a landing with scarred hardwood floors. 320, 322, 324 . . . Belle paused at 326, a white door on the right side of the hall. She flashed a key, turned the knob, and entered a room decorated in scarlet. It suited Belle perfectly.
“She certainly has a thing for red,” NeeCee said in my ear.
We both gaped at the stuffed red sofa sitting on a wooden floor. Beneath it was a red oval area rug. There were dark wooden end tables on each side of the couch with lamps covered in sheer red scarves. A small, flat-screen television sat on a black, modern entertainment center next to a black chest covered in gems, red candles, and an athame. Her alter. All witches had one.
A string of red beads hung from the entrance leading into the hallway. Gaps in the beads showed a bedroom at one end and a small bathroom at the other. A small square kitchen with red appliances and only four cabinets was visible from the living area. It was a small space, but Belle was its only oc
cupant.
“Nice taste in decor,” Luther said, his voice low as he eyed the red suggestively.
Red resembled blood. It was my least favorite color. I had a thing for mixing black and white. Maybe it was my love of vintage photos and movies, or maybe I just liked the cleanliness of it. I wanted to take a dust rag after Belle’s furniture, and I wasn’t sure if it was because the coloring and dimness made it hard to tell if the place was dirty or because the color just made me feel dirty, but either way, I had the sudden urge to clean.
I looked at a clock mounted on the beige walls and noted the time, 5:15 p.m. Bernice and I had been working in the shop together around 12:00. She had cast the power swap spell around 2:00. Since then, my day had gone to hell. Literally. It wasn’t NeeCee’s fault. It was mine. I was the one power-tied to Demons. Even if she hadn’t done the spell, Luther would have come for me. Only now NeeCee was being dragged into it as well. I didn’t count Belle. She was a big girl. But I did count the Coven, and Belle was a part of it. I was putting witches at risk.
“Coffee anyone?” Belle asked as she moved toward her kitchen.
Only NeeCee and Lucas answered in the affirmative. I think NeeCee just wanted something to do with her hands. Lucas wanted two tablespoons of sugar. Angels had a thing for sugar when on Earth. I had learned that from Dayton. I missed her.
“Greece,” I mumbled.
Luther “Thorne” looked at me askance, his brow furrowed. I shook my head. It was confusing calling him Luther with Lucas present, but I preferred it, too. I’d never known him as Thorne, but now knowing he had an alter ego made him even more interesting. Two names. One man.
“What?” he asked.
I blushed, which is not like me at all, but I hadn’t meant to say Greece out loud.
“It’s a game I play,” I muttered.
Luther raised a brow. “A game?”
“When I don’t like where I am, I imagine myself somewhere else.”
Luther looked away. It was my game. He didn’t have to like it. I was doing a darn good job visualizing the beaches and white stone buildings of Greece, the breeze off the Mediterranean, and the ruins. It was better than a room dominated by red.
Belle walked back into the living area with two red, stone mugs.
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