“I know. I should probably inform you that vampires are jealous and overprotective creatures,” he said.
“Well, get used to having no free time then, because trying to protect me will consume your every waking moment. I seem to attract trouble. And demons,” I added.
“So I’ve noticed,” he replied.
I dug in my coat pocket and came up empty handed. Shit. My phone must have fallen out of my pocket in Ms. Costa’s apartment.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I asked.
“Sure. It’s on the counter next to my keys. Where’s yours?” Aidan asked.
“I’m not one hundred-percent sure, but I think that I dropped it in Ms. Costa’s apartment,” I said.
“You call Amalie, and I’ll go get your phone,” he suggested.
“Um, I may have locked the door on my way out,” I told him. “I didn’t want her to think that someone broke into her apartment. She’s old and she lives alone.”
“Yes, but now you’ll have to explain to her how your phone ended up inside her apartment. Do you think that she’s still alive?” he asked, not at all convinced.
“I’m hoping. There was nothing in her apartment that led me to believe otherwise. I was going to call Masarelli after I talked to Amalie,” I said.
He gave me the same look that my mom did when she flushed my deceased pet fish down the toilet.
“I checked. There wasn’t any blood and no sign of a struggle. The dog’s leash wasn’t hanging by the door like it always is either,” I explained.
“Okay, so why call Masarelli at all?” Aidan asked. “We don’t need him trailing after us.”
“I didn’t say that I was inviting him. I just want him to send someone over later and see if she’s home. It’s not like I’ll have time to do it,” I added.
“I doubt that he’ll be able to spare a man just to come check on one little old lady after what happened at the station last night,” he said.
“Aidan,” I warned.
“Okay, sorry. Make your calls,” he said.
I called Amalie. Vampires have excellent hearing. I knew that Aidan would be able to hear both sides of the conversation. This was a time saver actually, since I didn’t have to tell him what she said.
“Amalie, it’s Maurin,” I said, since she wouldn’t recognize the number.
“Maurin, where are you? I’ve left you like a hundred messages,” she said.
“I’m home. I seem to have misplaced my phone,” I told her.
“I didn’t think that you had a home phone,” she said.
“I don’t. I’m using Aidan’s phone,” I said.
“Aidan? He’s there? Now? You let him stay with you?” she asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Do you have a problem with that?” I asked, only half-joking.
She didn’t seem all that thrilled with my new house guest. Aidan appeared to find the conversation highly amusing so far.
“No, of course not. I mean - I’m just surprised. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you because we did a little research on the Afrit,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“Funny, that’s why I’m calling you,” I replied.
“Really?” she asked.
“There you go - sounding surprised again,” I said.
“I didn’t mean to. I just thought…” She started to speak, but stopped herself.
“What? That I’d be on my floor in the fetal position balling my eyes out because of Oberon? Or Mahalia? Hardly. I’ve been hurt worse by better people,” I told her.
“Okay,” she responded carefully. “Can you come over? Or meet me at the Daily Grind?” she asked.
“I’m always running everywhere. Why don’t you just come here?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll stop at the Grind on my way and pick us up some coffee and if you’re lucky maybe a couple of croissants. Be there in thirty,” she said.
“Sounds good. See you in a bit,” I said and hung up.
One down. One to go. I didn’t have Masarelli’s direct line memorized. He was still on my contact list in my phone from when I worked on SPTF, though. Not that it would do me any good currently, since my phone was still locked in Ms. Costa’s apartment. I called the main number and asked to speak to Masarelli. The dispatcher transferred my call to his desk. He picked up on the second ring. My conversation with him lasted about two minutes. It consisted of me telling him what happened in Ms. Costa’s apartment and asking him to have someone keep an eye out for her. He told me that he was up to his ass in brass over what had happened last night and he couldn’t afford to send any men over here unless the Afrit was actually still in her apartment. To which I replied that he was going to have a hard time wading through all of that brass with my foot squarely up his ass if he didn’t have a guy in a patrol car put this on his route. He seemed to warm up to the idea after that and told me that he would see what he could do. I could be such a charmer.
I was feeling a little parched after all that chatting on the phone, so I went for another cup of coffee. I had just pulled the pot off of the hot plate when I realized that the bottom of my Social Distortion shirt was shredded. The Afrit’s claws had ripped through my wool coat and destroyed my shirt.
“Son of a bitch. I’m going to kill it twice. I’m going to kill it, and then find someone to bring it back as a zombie so I can kill it again!” I said.
“What?” Aidan asked, laughing.
“Look what it did to my shirt,” I said.
“Your shirt? You’re more upset about your shirt than your leg!” He was still laughing
"I love this shirt and now it’s trashed,” I said.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he offered
“This is vintage. You can’t just buy a new one. It won’t be the same.” I tried to explain, but a vintage tour shirt was not the same to him as vintage Chanel might be.
I went to my room muttering about the different ways that I was going to kill the Afrit. For my next wardrobe change, I chose a fitted black v-neck sweater and jeans. I threw the leggings in the trash and the Social Distortion shirt in the hamper. I just couldn’t bring myself to part with it yet.
I came out just as Amalie was knocking on the door. I let her in and took the tray of coffee and the bag of croissants from her. She stepped in and started taking off her coat. I gave the door a nudge, but a boot stopped it from closing. I knew those boots.
“Who the hell invited him?” I asked, rounding on Amalie.
“It’s not just him,” she said sheepishly as Oberon, Graive and Mahalia followed her inside.
It was a good thing that I was holding the coffee, or I might have thrown them out and slammed the door in their faces. Wasn’t it me who had said that we needed the coven not even forty-five mintues ago? Yes, I told myself, but I had hoped that she’d bring Juno or Phallon with her. Not the coconspirators.
“Maurin, are you-,” Oberon interrupted my thought.
“Don’t talk to me unless you want a black eye to match that busted jaw,” I snapped.
“Well, that will complicate things,” Graive said.
She took Oberon’s hand and led him into the living room. She wasn’t willing me to catch fire and die a crispy death with her eyes anymore. Guess she didn’t hate me now that I wasn’t trying to steal (unintentionally, I might add) her boyfriend anymore. Isn’t that great news? We could be BFFs and go shopping and whatever else BFFs do. Not!
Amalie shed her coat and gloves and took the coffee tray and croissants back. She set everything down on the appropriately named coffee table and busied herself with passing out drinks.
“Maurin, I understand your anger and mistrust, but we must work together now. I am certain that we can get through the evening without any more fighting,” she said as she went to join the others on my couch.
‘Easy for her to say,’ I thought. I stood at the door a moment and tried to regain my composure before I went over to sit with them. ‘I can do this, I can do
this,’ I told myself. Thankfully, Aidan came out of the kitchen to join the conversation. He was cool and casual as he strode barefoot across the carpet as if he lived here. He stopped when he was about the same distance from the room as I was - he was waiting for me.
It was right about then, walking side by side with Aidan, that I realized that it wasn’t my heart that Oberon had hurt, but my pride. Was there a physical attraction? Sure, but not a ‘tear off your clothes, I can’t control myself when I’m around you’ attraction. There was only one instance where I literally threw myself at him in Mahalia’s office and that was for an entirely different reason. There was a tangled up mess of emotions when I first came into my powers that would have straightened themselves out had Mahalia simply left things alone. Maybe the metaphysical tie would have gone away on its own too. Maybe Oberon was like a magical safety net, someone to guide me as I adjusted to my new abilities and came into my full powers. Scota had latched on to him because she had recognized his magic. Everything I felt really was because of her, despite Mahalia and Oberon trying to convince me otherwise. Now that the transformation, for lack of a better word, was complete. Scota was my past and I was her future. But it was still me - a more powerful, ass-kicking me - and my feelings were finally my own again. I let that settle in for a second and then sat down on my couch, noticeably calm and confident.
Aidan sat down beside me with his arms stretched out over the back of the couch. Oberon’s expression darkened as soon as Aidan slid close enough that he and I were both on the same cushion. It was the same look that he had given him in the alley when we were all at the warehouse together. I must admit that I felt a little smug. Having Aidan at my side felt a bit like revenge. I didn’t feel bad about it in the least. Of course, Oberon probably just put some of the blame on Aidan for how things had worked out, but in my head he was seething with jealousy. Delusional, who me?
“I’ve been scouring my library for information on the Afrit since you left my house last night. Amalie tells me that you’ve been doing some research of your own,” Mahalia said.
“I googled it,” I told her flatly.
“So it would seem that Fate would have us as allies once again,” she said.
“Yeah, Fate and I have never seen eye to eye on anything. I assume that you have a plan?” I asked.
Graive pulled out an old grim moiré from her bag and set it on her lap. It was held closed with a heavy iron latch, which seemed utterly pointless given the book’s condition. The leather cover was cracked and threatened to break free of the spine any second, causing its secrets to spill out onto my living room floor. She reached into her shirt and retrieved the key that she kept on a chain that hung low around her neck. She unclasped the necklace and opened the old book.
“This is the Lesser Key of Solomon,” she said.
“Mahalia, no!” Amalie gasped. Her eyes were as big as saucers.
I’ve never seen Amalie react that way to anything that Mahalia had said or done. She usually followed her with a blind dedication. Not to mention that I felt Aidan stiffen beside me when Graive named the book that she was holding. I was missing something. Oberon was watching me, waiting to see what I would do or say. Did he assume that I knew what the book was or what it did? I guess he had forgotten what they say about assuming. Of course he was already an ass in my mind, so it didn’t really matter.
“Could someone give me the Reader’s Digest version of what the Lesser Key is?” I asked.
“It is believed by some, mostly those not born with a magical inclination, that the Key and Lesser Key were written by Solomon. That Solomon had, in fact, trapped seventy-two demons and kept them in a jar. He detailed everything about them: names, hierarchy and even how to summon them,” Oberon replied, relishing in the opportunity to explain it to me.
“Why would Solomon want to keep demons? I thought he was a holy man. And how would he fit seventy-two of them in a jar?” I asked, not really sure where this conversation was going, but absolutely positive that I wouldn’t like it when we arrived.
“To build the temple, of course,” Oberon responded.
“Of course. How silly of me!” I said sarcastically.
“There are problems with the story and what’s in the books. Solomon was B.C., not A.D. - it doesn’t all match up. Which begs the question about who really wrote it,” Amalie asked.
“The Key is thought to go back to Greco-Roman times, but it was later translated and adopted by the Practical Kabbalah. The tie to the mystical branch of Judaism is probably where the Inquisitors’ belief that they could use it came from. Less is known about the origin of the Lesser Key,” Graive explained.
“Okay, so the Lesser Key tells you how to summon them; does it tell you how to send them back too?” I asked.
“They both do,” Graive said.
“They both do,” I repeated. “So why the big scary book that makes Amalie look like she wants to run and hide?” I asked.
“We thought that it was important to know the hierarchy,” Graive replied.
Something told me that I was not going to like what they had to say next. Amalie looked like she was about to bolt, Aidan hadn’t said a word yet and Mahalia looked exhausted. Some of her glamour had slipped away and it looked as if life had caught up with her all at once.
“All right, enough of the history lesson. Let’s hear the plan,” Aidan said.
I could tell, despite his calm exterior, that he was mad as hell. His accent gave him away. The hotter his emotions ran, the thicker his accent became.
“It takes a demon to catch a demon,” Graive said.
“What? That doesn’t make any - oh! No, no, no, no, no, no!” I said.
“It’s not as bad as you think, Maurin. We’ll summon the demon and send it after the Afrit. Once it’s captured, we send them both back,” Oberon explained.
“Oberon, this is crazy. We can’t do this!” Amalie exclaimed.
“Well it’s not like we know the true name of the Afrit. And we can’t summon or banish him without it!” Graive snapped at Amalie.
“It’s dark magic, Oberon. I can’t believe that you’re suggesting this. Mahalia? You’re sanctioning this?” Amalie asked.
She seemed devastated, like a child learning for the first time that Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy weren’t real. Mahalia had just fallen from the ivory tower that Amalie kept her in.
“Do you remember what I asked you back at Toil and Trouble, Mahalia? Is this what you meant by shamanic? I’m with Amalie on this one,” I said.
“It’s not always black and white. I have never permitted the use of the Lesser Key in all of my years as High Priestess, but it seems that this is the only way that we will be rid of the beast,” she said, defeated. She sounded as tired as she looked.
“Who will take it? You or Graive?” Amalie asked.
“Take what?” I asked.
“When you use dark magic, it throws off the natural balance of everything. It is different from earth magic, which is in tune with everything around it and leaves the natural order in place. Someone has to absorb the disruption, or it will permanently alter something on this plane. It’s like soot on your soul,” Amalie said.
“She’s a necromancer. Zombies and demons don’t affect her. She’s not a witch. She’s done it before. She knows what she’s doing,” Oberon said confidently, trying to quell Amalie’s fears.
“I bet that’s what the Inquisitors thought too - right up until the Afrit tore them to pieces and splattered them all over the walls of that warehouse,” I said sourly.
“Trust me, she can do this,” Oberon said.
“I’m a long way from trusting you. And we are not unleashing another demon,” I informed him.
“The High Priestess has agreed. We can do this without you,” Oberon threatened.
Mahalia grabbed his arm. Oberon had overstepped his bounds. She may have agreed to using dark magic to stop dark magic, but not without all of us. She wanted a united front if something we
nt wrong and we had to stand before the rest of the Council to explain our actions. It was a hollow threat and Aidan and I both knew it.
“You could do that Oberon, but it would be seen as a rogue act. The coven would be viewed as a threat to the Council and the Treaty of Races. Your seat on the Council would be forfeited and the Fae would take your place automatically,” Aidan said.
Oberon gave up on his argument, leaving an awkward silence in the room.
“Any other ideas?” I asked, in an effort to get things moving again.
“Your only other option is to take off the amulet, let the Afrit come for you and, if we’re lucky, we can catch it in a circle and complete the banishing spell,” Graive said.
She was probably hoping that I’d pick what was behind door number two the whole time.
“Absolutely not! No. I can’t believe you actually came here with this shit! That’s the best you’ve got? Conjure up another demon or offer up Maurin?” Aidan roared.
“It’s not up to you, bloodsucker,” Graive challenged.
“Watch yourself, grave robber. You’re the real reason I’m in Salem. I warned you once already. Step out of line again and I’ll reduce the necro population by one,” Aidan threatened.
“Let’s say for argument’s sake that I decide to do this. How confident are you that you can hold him in a circle?” I asked.
“Normally I wouldn’t dignify that with an answer, but I am quite confident that we can contain him,” Mahalia replied.
“Can you hold both of us in the same circle?” I asked her.
In one of those surreal, seemingly slow motion moments, everyone stopped and stared at me. A small smile crept across Graive’s face. I knew that smile. I had given it a few times myself. It was a ‘damn you’re one crazy son of a bitch, but you’ve got some serious balls’ smile. Amalie just dropped her head in her hands. She knew there wasn’t any point in arguing with me, no matter how dumb she thought the idea was. Aidan and Oberon actually had similar scowls on their faces, but I was betting it was for two totally different reasons. In fact, if I was a betting girl, I would have wagered my nonexistent paycheck from the Council that Aidan’s was a scowl of concern and disappointment that I would put my life on the line once again, while Oberon wore his scowl because I didn’t let his girlfriend read from her great big book of demon things.
Witch Hunt, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series) Page 19