Random Acts of Sorcery (The Familiar Series Book 3)

by Karen Mead

Sammael turned to see Asmodeus coming across the sand to join them. Sammael had never been impressed by the other demon’s fashion choices, but at least this time, he had bowed to the setting by wearing golf whites and a visor.

  “If your son is ever stupid enough to come back here, I’ll personally see to it that he gets turned into a fine paste,” he called.

  “Top of the morning to you to, Azzie,” said Sammael, whacking at his ball with the sand wedge. He was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to use the wedge for getting the ball off the green, but that was the fun of it, really.

  Asmodeus closed the rest of the distance between them, coming to a stop just out of reach of Sammael’s club. “Of all the stupid things you’ve done for that woman, even I never would have thought it you’d do that. A Matriarchal Lineage clause? It’s an embarrassment. More embarrassing still that you’d use it to help your whelp escape.”

  Sammael shrugged. “She made me sign so many stupid things before we got married, you expect me to remember every single one of them? I had no idea that contract he made was as worthless as a human’s distended gallbladder.”

  There was a pause.

  “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

  “Ah, but you just did.”

  “You—”

  “Andrea, be a good girl and fetch me the ball, hmmm?”

  Andrea sighed and began to jog in the general direction of the ball. Really, she should be pleased; not only was he allowing her to get outside, but she was getting plenty of cardiovascular exercise as well. These humans, they never knew how good they had it.

  He turned to his fellow lord. “You know, if you’re that ticked off at my son, you can go to the human world and give him a piece of your mind in person. It takes preparation to get there without a summoning, but I’ve done it; it’s possible.”

  Asmodeus kept his face carefully blank. Sammael gave his club a few more swings.

  “Unless, of course, you don’t want to have to face my ‘whelp’ by yourself, that is.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Asmodeus snapped.

  “In fact, if you really want to go, I’ll even do all the prep work for you myself! How does that sound, big guy? Want a free trip to human playland?”

  Asmodeus was silent for a moment. “Watch yourself,” he said finally.

  “Hmm?”

  “You think your rank protects you, and so far it has. But if all of us, together, decide we’ve had enough of your pranks, even you will be as helpless as the most pathetic thrall languishing in a filthy cell,” he hissed.

  Sammael laughed. “Thrall? Who uses ‘thrall’ anymore? Are we back in the fifteenth century now?”

  “I won’t warn you again,” Asmodeus said, then turned to leave, clearly satisfied with his threat.

  Sammael gently lowered his club. “Do you remember my name, Azzie? What they called me in the original Aramaic, back when the humans knew what they were going on about?”

  Asmodeus paused, his back to Sammael. “He Who Brings Death,” he muttered.

  “Cross me, little Ophanim, and I bring death to all of us,” said Sammael as he dropped the ball and prepared for another drive. “Don’t think I won’t do it; you have no idea what else my wife made me sign.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Cassie kept seeing the Leviathan in her dreams. Sometimes it was sticking its massive head out of the decorative fountain on the Las Vegas strip, sometimes it was swaying its great body in the tidal pool where she’d first seen it, and sometimes it was nowhere in particular. It never did anything but look at her, even in the most violent of her dreams, but the sight of it inside her mind unnerved her. There was an overwhelming mournfulness to it, like it was grieving for her, though she couldn’t imagine why it would.

  No one needs to grieve for me, I’m alive. I did what I needed to do to survive.

  She also kept having a dream where she was running after John, in his rat form, trying to get him to grade her Drama Project. He kept complaining that he couldn’t grade it while he was a rat, and she kept yelling after him while jumping over dissolving bodies in her path. Sometimes, he was in his human form, only naked, and he yelled over his shoulder that he couldn’t grade her paper because he wasn’t decent. She preferred this dream to the Leviathan series.

  What she hadn’t dreamed of in a while was her grandparents’ old vacation home upstate, so it surprised her when the familiar trees came into view. Usually, it was fall when she was here, but now it was obviously spring; the leaves on the trees had fully come in, and the air had that cool, dewy softness to it of the mountains after a cleansing rain.

  “Mind if I sit down?” said a voice, and Cassie turned around in her chair to see Helen. For once, the woman was wearing something instead of one of her professional suits; a simple black T-shirt and white slacks.

  Cassie hesitated for just a moment. She was about to say that it was fine, but the perceptive woman caught her instant of doubt. “I understand, this is your place, and you don’t like seeing it invaded. Come with me,” she said, extending a hand.

  Cassie stood up and took Helen’s hand, and within a moment, they were on a beach. It wasn’t a tropical, tourist-friendly beach, but one that looked like a part of the estuary where Helen lived, complete with thick marsh grasses. All around them, herons and egrets were frolicking, while a cool ocean breeze made Cassie’s bangs flutter. The scent of brackish water tickled her nose.

  “This is my place,” said Helen, leaning back to sit on the dune behind them. Cassie followed suit. “Like it?”

  “It’s beautiful,” said Cassie. It had been the dead of winter when she’d seen Helen’s home in North Carolina; seeing it in teeming with wildlife was an entirely different experience. “What did you want to see me about?”

  Helen crossed her ankles and leaned back, letting the breeze play with her shoulder-length hair. “Just wanted to talk to you, witch-to-witch if you will. How are you holding up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It can’t be easy to have met your future daughter.”

  For a moment, Cassie wondered how much Helen knew about her trip to the future, then realized it was a silly thing to worry about.

  Why not just assume she knows everything? It’s faster that way, and she usually does.

  “I don’t know,” she said, hugging her knees. “It’s not that I mind that Sam and I get married and have a kid…I mean, it’s a little weird, but it’s not bad. But the fact that I know I don’t have too much longer to live is hard,” she said.

  Something bothered her when she heard herself say that, and she knit her brow.

  I shot Andrea stone dead, and Sam turned back time for her and brought her back to life like it was nothing. How do I die in the future if he can do that? What happens to me that’s so awful that even he can’t save me?

  “Ah,” said Helen thoughtfully. “I thought you might be laboring under that illusion. Cassie,” she said, the sun reflecting off her glasses, “No matter what you saw, your future isn’t set in stone.”

  Cassie was rendered speechless for a moment. “How could you know that? I went to the future, and I was dead there….”

  Helen tipped her head back and closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the sea air in this world of her own making. “I know, because Corianne herself told me.”

  Cassie looked at Sam’s mother, wide-eyed. Helen played with a reed between her fingers as she told her story.

  “See, from the moment Sam was born, he was Wordlocked, so he couldn’t make any knots in time for Corianne to play with. But he wasn’t Wordlocked before he was born, and I was pregnant with him for a solid ten months. Lazy little bastard would still be in there if they hadn’t induced labor,” she said, tossing the reed aside. “Some babies kick; late in my pregnancy, Sam would play with time. It would just be a little stutter, a second here or there, but it was enough.”

  “She visited you,” Cassie said, staring at the ocean while her mind worked furiou
sly. “She found those little knots in time and played with them, and she came to visit, because that’s what she does when she’s bored.” She looked at Helen. “That’s how you always know everything, because she told you the future.”

  Helen gave a laugh that was half a snort. “Well, I don’t know everything, although she did tell me quite a bit. But one of the things she told me is that I wouldn’t necessarily meet her later on in time. She would always meet me, but I might not see her.”

  Cassie felt ill. “I don’t understand.”

  “She explained to me that there were different lines, and she could only play with the knots on her line; the others were too far for her to reach. Also, there were some knots that were off limits; she called them ‘scary knots,’” said Helen, her eyes lost in remembrance. “I think she intuitively knows which moments in time are too important for her to tamper with.”

  “Wait…so...” Cassie was struggling to keep up. “There are different timelines? And the one where she’s born…where I die…might not happen?”

  “That’s the gist of it, I think. Based on what she said, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a timeline where she’s born and you survive as well. But the Corianne I met, her mother was already dead. That’s why she was lonely.”

  “But she came back in time, and we saw her, Sam too. How could she not be born?” Cassie said. She didn’t understand how she was feeling. She hadn’t really considered Corianne her child; the whole thing was too strange and unreal. Yet on some level, she must have accepted that the little girl that had her eyes was going to be her daughter one day. The thought that she might never see the girl again was gutting; it felt like she was grieving for a child she’d never had.

  “She may be yet. Or, you may have other children who, while powerful in their own way I’ve no doubt, aren’t inclined to come back and visit you. Or none at all,” said Helen, standing up and wiping the sand off her backside. “We’re in uncharted territory now, Cassie.”

  “Anything could happen,” Cassie said, feeling overwhelmed.

  Helen smirked. “No, not anything. My son will marry you, of that I have no doubt.”

  “What if I don’t want to marry him?” Cassie exclaimed.

  “Then he’ll be a very sad little demon indeed, and I will be very cross with you.”

  Cassie scowled; that sounded like a threat. She also stood up and put her hands on her hips.

  “Excuse me? You came to tell me my future isn’t set in stone, only to say that my future is set in stone?”

  “I guess it is contradictory. They like to call me the Paradox Maiden for a reason, and it’s certainly not because I’m a maiden.”

  Cassie blushed and looked to the side at that. Somehow, the thought of Helen and Sammael together in a loving embrace seemed particularly obscene.

  “Paradox Maiden. Virgin Witch. Silly, silly titles,” said Helen as a strong wind whipped through her brown hair. “But while I’m probably stuck with mine, yours may change. When your ancestors decide that it’s time to exert their will through you, I think you’ll be going by a different name.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something pithy, like Destroyer of Worlds. Or is that my son?” said Helen stroking her chin. “See, this is why you two have to get married. But if you’d like to play the field first, by all means, start dating some human men. My husband and I have a pool going on what animals Sam will turn them into first.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Serenus grimaced as he opened the door to his apartment. His time in Realm had made his bad leg worse, and it was aching badly just from the short walk to the corner store and back.

  It had been a few days since he’d regained his freedom, but he still refused to see anyone. He had made sure that Sam and the entourage knew that he was back in one piece, but he just wasn’t ready to face people he knew yet. He needed a little more time to relax and feel human, and hopefully to fill out his clothes again; he felt like he was swimming in all of his slacks.

  He was so distracted by the pain in his leg that it took him a few moments to realize that there was someone sitting in his apartment. He jumped back, relying on his good leg, and nearly dropped his cane.

  “Asmodeus can’t touch me for another 362 days, we’ve discussed this. I’ve done nothing,” he stammered.

  The stranger leaned back on the couch. In the dark room, Serenus couldn’t make out his features. “You think I’ve come to do Asmodeus’ dirty work? Turn on the light, Professor. I want you to see who you’re talking to before you decide I’m the mailman next.”

  Serenus did as he was bid. After flicking the light switch, he let out a painful breath. “Zerael.”

  The demon gestured to his robe-clad body. “In the flesh; or a reasonable facsimile thereof. It’s not quite human flesh, I’m afraid.”

  That was foolish; I should never have assumed it was a servant here on Asmodeus’ orders. Now I’ve insulted him. I never would have made a mistake like that before.

  Zerael stood up and took a few languid steps towards where Serenus was standing in the hall. Unlike most demons, who tended to adopt modern dress, he was wearing a strange purple robe that seemed to be made of shifting fabrics. His face was that of an angelic youth: white-blond hair, big blue eyes and creamy, unblemished skin. Serenus had seen him before, but mostly in the background; compared to the likes of Asmodeus and Sammael, he was a minor demon. Of course, considering that even the most minor of demons could kill a human as easily as swatting a fly, the distinction was of questionable relevance at the moment.

  “To what do I owe this honor?” said Serenus, forcing himself to stand erect. His leg hurt, but he had to show respect.

  “By which you mean, how did I get here when you haven’t summoned me?” the demon said, then laughed. It was a pleasant, casual laugh. “You know, you and I are alike in many ways. Just because we aren’t the frontrunners, everyone underestimates us. Now, I may not be able to compete with Asmodeus when it comes to throwing fireballs and tearing the Earth asunder, but I can get to the surface world twice as easily as he can,” he said conversationally.

  “A very useful ability,” said Serenus, trying to remain calm.

  “As for you,” Zereal said, still pacing the apartment. He picked up a silver frame, featuring a picture of Helen and Sam. The boy was little more than a toddler in the picture, but Helen had been in her prime; smiling mischievously, the few streaks of grey in her hair only serving to heighten her earthy, sensual appeal. When Serenus closed his eyes, this was how he liked to remember her. Zereal tilted his angelic face and studied the photograph.

  “As for you,” he repeated. “Your barely have any power, and what little you do have was bartered from Asmodeus. So everyone ignores you. But unless I’m mistaken,” he said, lowering the photograph and turning his luminous eyes on Serenus, “It’s you who bear responsibility for all of this.”

  “I’m sorry?” said Serenus, feigning ignorance.

  “Helen Andrews, the one they call the Paradox Maiden. Without you, she never would have known of the existence of demons, let alone had a child by one. Why would you do it, I wonder?” he said, putting the photograph down. A hint of a smirk played on his lips.

  “If I had any idea what she would do, I never would have told her anything about demons. I thought—”

  “That if you told her you were part-demon, she would be intrigued and go to bed with you? All of reality, primed to unravel, and all because you had a crush on a girl that was out of your league,” said Zerael. He laughed again; there was no obvious menace in the sound, but it still made Serenus’ skin crawl to hear it.

  “Down there, they’re running around like chickens with their heads cut off, all because of that woman and what she’s unleashed. And to think that Asmodeus had you—the catalyst—in a dungeon for weeks, and did nothing? Fascinating.”

  “What do you want from me, my lord?” said Serenus, finally. He was afraid, but weariness was winning out. He c
ouldn’t keep standing like this for much longer. “If you want my soul, in whole or in part, you’ll have to deal with Asmodeus. And there’s no way I can undo anything I’ve done, as I’m sure you well know.”

  Zerael spread his arms out theatrically. “Is it funny to you? To know that beings who have been alive for eons are—what is that expression again?—‘losing their shit’ because of what you’ve done? Yet no one thinks to blame you, because you’re so far beneath their notice?”

  “What is it that you want, Zerael?” Serenus repeated. Daggers of pain were shooting through his leg, and he felt lightheaded.

  “I think we can help each other, you and I,” said the demon lord, closing the distance between them. “Two criminally underestimated demons, perhaps together, can become something far more.”

  “I don’t know if I’m in a position to be offering help to anyone,” Serenus said honestly. Right now, he felt like nothing but a ball of aches, pains, and regrets.

  “That’s not true. You have a front-row seat to everything that matters. You have the trust of all the major players.” He grinned. “And now you have me.”

  “I won’t do anything to betray Helen’s son. If that’s what you have in mind, kill me now.”

  “Such a suspicious mind you have. Why would I hurt the Son of Sammael? He and his witch can have their run of the Earth. I only want control of the lower Realms, which he couldn’t care less about.”

  “What?” Serenus exclaimed. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

  The lesser demon lord put a companionable hand on the professor’s shoulder.

  “I want to take over Hell, Dr. Zeitbloom. After your recent stay, don’t you think it could use some proper hospitality?”

  “That’s impossible,” said Serenus. “Even if you could somehow get rid of Asmodeus and all the lesser lords, there’s still Sammael, who’s still an Archangel in all but name. And Lucifer himself….”

  Zerael put a finger to his lips at the mention of the Devil’s name. “Shhhh. But that is why I need you, Dr. Zeitbloom. You kicked off a chain of impossibilities once; who’s to say you can’t do it again?”