Demon's Dance

by Keri Arthur

  “If that were the case, why isn’t her collection in the national library?” he asked. “It should be, if it was that important.”

  Belle shrugged. “I’m actually not sure why it was never gifted to the national library or even where the vast majority of her books went, but Mom did give me a couple of her old spell books on my thirteenth birthday. I still have them upstairs.”

  Monty frowned. “And you think we’ll find something in one of them?”

  “Look at the spells surrounding this place,” I said. “You commented on our unconventional mode of magic—where do you think we learned it, given we both left school so early?”

  “We should go upstairs and start reading, then.”

  He immediately picked up his coffee and strode for the stairs. We scrambled after him.

  “Wow,” he commented. “Not a whole lot of room up here, is there?”

  “No, and you can either sit on the floor or drag one of the chairs in from the balcony outside.”

  He gave me the look. “I hope you’re not expecting me to sleep on the floor, because I’m telling you now, it ain’t going to happen.”

  I grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m well aware you’re far too soft to be sleeping rough. The sofa pulls out into a double bed.”

  He gave the sofa a somewhat dubious look, then walked over to the coffee table and picked up the first of the three leather-bound books sitting there.

  “Wow.” He turned the book over almost reverently. “These really are old.”

  “Yes, so I’ll ask you to be careful with them when you’re reading,” Belle said.

  He nodded, grabbed a couple of cushions from the sofa, and then propped on the floor. Belle and I grabbed a book each, then plopped down on the sofa and began reading.

  It was a long and rather unfruitful night.

  Eventually, Monty snapped his book shut and yawned hugely. “The spells in here are quite fascinating, but in this one, at least, there doesn’t appear to be anything resembling a heat or spirit tracker.”

  “Ditto, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible to make one up.”

  He frowned again. “It’s never wise to be fiddling with the nature of spells. It can lead to unforeseen consequences.”

  “It might also lead to the soucouyant.” I glanced at him. “What have we got to lose?”

  “You mean other than our lives?”

  “A heat-seeking spell isn’t likely to backfire badly enough to kill us,” I bit back.

  Monty’s been in cataloguing for a very long time, Belle said. This is all very new to him, and we need to give him time to adjust.

  Except we don’t have time, Belle. And neither did Monty.

  “I’ll ignore that statement simply because you didn’t go to university and haven’t witnessed the consequences of someone not spelling as it was written.”

  “I’ve been not following spells as they were written for most of my adult life, Monty. Sometimes you have to step outside norms and procedures to get anywhere.”

  “I’d wager most of your spells have never been either major or dangerous.” It was impatiently said, with just the slightest edge of annoyance. “Please give me the benefit of knowing what I’m talking about when it comes to higher-level spells.”

  Don’t, Belle said, before I even opened my mouth. There’s no point in antagonizing him any further right now. It won’t get us anywhere.

  Neither will sitting here doing nothing. I snapped my book shut, then rose and walked over to the sliding door. The night was quiet, and I had no sense of anything untoward happening. Which was odd, given my earlier vision. I took a deep breath to calm the frustration and then said, as calmly as I could, “The soucouyant is out there somewhere, and it’s more than possible she’s preying on someone new.”

  “That may be the case, but until we find another means of tracking her, there’s nothing we can do,” Monty said. “Besides, it’s also very possible that after the events of the last few days and losing her offspring, she’s lying low.”

  I glanced down at him. “I’d have thought losing her offspring would have made her even more determined to seek revenge.”

  “But as you’ve said a couple of times, we’re dealing with a very old spirit. She won’t act irrationally.”

  “Acting rationally and acting fast are not mutually exclusive.”

  “Yes, but she’s expended a lot of energy over the last couple of days and that’ll take time to replenish.”

  I crossed my arms and returned my gaze to the night and the stars. I couldn’t escape the feeling that we needed to find her before the events in my vision had the chance to come true. I needed—we needed—to be doing something, even if that something amounted to nothing.

  “That fire protection net you use,” I said eventually. “Why can’t we tweak that and make it seek heat rather than protect against it?”

  I’d already used elements of that spell in both the protections around this place and in the three charms, but I’d also added my own embellishments because I didn’t know the entire spell. Monty did—and that meant he should be able to reverse the spell’s usage. It might not be easy, but it should be possible.

  Monty frowned. “I wouldn’t know where to start something like that.”

  “We could try casting aside the protection threads and weave in a heat finding spell instead. Finders are easy enough to create.”

  “Only because we generally have something personal to work off, and we can’t use her skin because it’s been salted. It’ll foul whatever spell we try.” His frown deepened. “Most spirits are notoriously hard to find—that’s probably why there’s minimal information when it comes to tracking them.”

  “We’ve nothing to lose by trying, Monty.”

  He studied me for several seconds and then shrugged. “I guess we don’t.”

  “We’ll need to use your vehicle if the spell succeeds,” I said. “Ours is in bits.”

  “If mine ends up the same way, I will be pissed. It’s a classic.” He pushed to his feet. “I’ll attempt the reversal in that spell room of yours. If it works, we’ll head out for a few hours. Okay?”

  A few hours would probably not be enough given the size of the reservation, but it was better than nothing. I glanced at Belle. “You’d better stay here and grab some sleep. One of us needs to be fit to serve customers tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Just be careful out there, both of you.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “Careful is my middle name, remember?”

  She snorted. If you keep saying that often enough, fate might just believe you. But I certainly won’t.

  My smile grew, but I didn’t say anything as I followed Monty down the stairs and into the reading room.

  “Nice range of spells,” he said, his gaze on the ceiling. “It’s tending a little toward overkill though, isn’t it?”

  “Wait until you’re attacked by heretic witches and magic-capable vampires.” I shoved the table aside and then rolled up the rug. “We’ll see if you think its overkill then.”

  He grunted and sat down. I sat opposite him—not because I had any intention of interfering, but because I wanted to see the spell in its entirety so I could use or adjust it at a later date.

  Monty took a deep breath and then began his spell. I watched intently, filing away the words he spoke as much as the look and feel of each thread. Once the spell was complete, he began unpicking various threads, reversing the polarity of them so that they would seek heat rather than protect from it. It was very cleverly done, and whatever I thought about Monty’s overcautious ways, when push came to shove, he was far superior in every way when it came to spelling, be it traditional or ad hoc.

  Once he’d finished rearranging the threads, he fashioned the spell into an easy-to-handle orb and then activated it. “Right,” he said. “Though it’s not showing much at the moment, energy should pulse through the threads as we get closer to arcane heat. It’s the best I could do.”

  �
��It’s great, Monty. And thanks for trying.”

  He grimaced. “I still think it’s a fool’s errand but you’re right—we have to at least try.”

  He pushed to his feet and dug his keys out of his pocket. “Drive her gently, and don’t crunch the gears.”

  “I’ll try not to—but I drive automatics for a reason, I’m afraid.”

  He winced but didn’t say anything else. We both grabbed our backpacks and headed out. Once I’d locked the door, he said, “It's down the street on the right.”

  I looked across the road. “The old red Mustang?”

  “It’s a classic 1967 V8 Mustang, thank you very much.” His voice held a hint of censure. “You’re obviously a heathen when it comes to cars.”

  “Undoubtedly, because as long as they get me from point A to point B, I’m really not fussed.”

  He shook his head. “Driving should never just be about getting from one point to another. It should be about the experience, the power, and the feel.”

  I glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Seriously?”

  He grinned. “Tell me you don’t understand after you’ve driven her.”

  I snorted but nevertheless walked over to it. “How’d you get it down here so fast?”

  “I arranged for it to be transported down the minute it was confirmed I had the position. It arrived yesterday.”

  “What is it with you men and your cars?”

  He grinned. “They don’t take as much time and effort as women. And they don’t talk back.” He paused. “Not that often, anyway.”

  I smiled and shook my head. Once we were both in his car, I started her up. I had to admit, the heavy rumble of the big engine was a rather awesome sound. I took off gently, getting used to the car and the gears, but growing more confident as we began a circuit first around the main section of town and then around the outskirts.

  Monty’s spell remained stubbornly mute.

  I pulled to a halt at an intersection and looked right and left. “Where next? Up towards Hank’s Mill or down to Rayburn Springs?”

  He hesitated, his gaze narrowed as he studied the orb sitting in his hand. “Left.”

  I put on the blinker and went that way. As the streetlights faded and the stars grew brighter, energy began to flicker across the orb’s surface. But it was faint. Very faint.

  We continued on. The pulsing through the orb didn’t alter, which really didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Unless the soucouyant was somehow aware of our movements and tracking from a distance, of course, but I doubted that was the case. If she’d been close enough to see us leave the café, she’d have been close enough to kill us.

  The signal didn’t alter as we entered the outskirts of Argyle and then drove through the center of town.

  “This isn’t working.” Monty’s voice was weary. “The spell is detecting something, but I’m not convinced it's the soucouyant.”

  Which was more than a little frustrating. “Shall we go back a different way, just in case?”

  He shrugged. “We’ve got nothing to lose.”

  I swung left at the roundabout and headed out of Argyle. As we left the lights behind us, the orb began to glow again, but it remained faint. As we neared Castle Rock again, the orb—and its magic—began to disintegrate.

  “Sorry,” Monty said. “But it would have taken too much energy to create a spell to last much longer than a couple of hours.”

  “At least we tried.” Which didn’t ease the niggling feeling that the soucouyant was waiting to pounce the minute we had our backs turned.

  As I pulled up in front of the café, Monty said, “Leave the engine running. I think I’ll head home.”

  “Monty—”

  “I know what you saw,” he said. “And I believe it. But we’re a long way from dusk right now, and I’d rather sleep in my own bed than on your couch.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You can make me dinner again tomorrow night,” he said. “Hopefully by that time, Jamie will have come through with a better means of tracking and killing the bitch.”

  I hesitated, but his set expression said there was no way I was ever going to talk him out of this course of action.

  I blew out a breath in frustration—a common affliction tonight, it seemed—and then reached around and grabbed my backpack from the rear seat. “Just make sure you set your protections—”

  “Liz,” he said gently. “I may be new to this whole spirit-hunting thing, but I’m not stupid.”

  “I’m not saying you are, but—”

  “Stop worrying,” he cut in again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can plot our next course of action. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I shoved the door open and clambered out.

  He jumped into the driver side, slammed the door shut and, with a quick wave, drove off. Leaving me standing in the middle of the road, staring after him and feeling even uneasier.

  I grimaced and headed for the front door. Monty was a grown man and a strong witch besides. I had to trust he knew what he was doing, even if my gut was saying he was doing the wrong thing.

  Once I’d grabbed my phone, I placed the backpack in the reading room and then headed upstairs. I took a quick shower in a vague effort to wash away the unease and frustration and then finally climbed into bed. But my dreams were filled with fiery dread, and I woke with a start some hours later.

  For several seconds, I didn’t move. I just stared into the darkness, listening to the creaks and groans of the old building, wondering what had woken me. Wondering why my body was bathed in sweat and my heart beat so fiercely.

  Nothing stirred through the darkness. There was no hint that anything—or anyone—was testing the magic that protected this place.

  But something was happening. Not here, perhaps, but out there in the deeper darkness. I frowned and reached for my phone—it was four forty-five. Dawn was still a good half an hour or more away. Plenty of time yet for the soucouyant to be active without the sunlight pulling on her strength.

  I tossed the covers aside and hastily pulled on a T-shirt as I padded through the living room to the sliding door. It squealed slightly as I pushed it open, the sound reverberating through the silence as sharply as fingernails down a blackboard. I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder, wondering if I’d disturbed Belle. Relief stirred when she didn’t appear. I didn’t want to be waking her if the trepidation stirring through me was nothing more than unwarranted fear.

  The predawn darkness held a cool edge, but the sky was clear and the stars still bright. I stepped out onto the balcony and walked over to the edge. There was little noise to be heard other than the occasional rumble of a car from the nearby Midland Highway, and nothing moving on the street below.

  Castle Rock was at peace.

  And that, for some reason, only tightened the strands of unease.

  I hesitated and then walked across to one of the chairs, dragging it around and then carefully standing on top of it. It didn’t really help me see over the rooftops of the buildings opposite, but I nevertheless looked in the direction of Monty’s street and scanned the skyline. No hint of heat. No flicker of fire to suggest either the soucouyant or one of her fireballs was about to attack Monty.

  And yet I feared that was exactly what was about to happen.

  I jumped off my chair and strode toward the sliding door. But just as I stepped inside, energy hit. It was a fleeting wash of power and heat that nevertheless promised death. I swung around, my heart pounding violently somewhere in the vicinity of my tonsils.

  And saw a huge whoosh of flame erupt from the area where Monty lived.

  My vision, come to life.

  Eleven

  My vision hadn’t been wrong; I’d just interpreted it incorrectly. I locked the sliding door and ran for my bedroom, barely avoiding Belle as she came out of hers.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Monty’s being attacked. Get dressed.”

  She swore and disappeared again. I quickly got dres
sed then grabbed my phone and ran downstairs for the backpack.

  And only then remembered we didn’t have a car.

  I cursed, but I wasn’t about to hang around waiting for a cab—not when Monty’s place was only a couple of streets away. I dug out my keys and, as Belle came clattering down the stairs, opened the front door.

  “You want me to call Ashworth?” she said.

  I nodded and locked up once we were both out. “I’ll call Aiden.”

  I tugged my phone from my back pocket and bolted down the street after Belle. The phone rang a couple of times, then Aiden’s sleep-laden voice said, “What’s happened?”

  “Monty’s being attacked.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  “You’re up at the O’Connor compound?”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “You’re obviously running to Monty’s but be careful, Liz. She could be out to grab you both.”

  “That’s not what I saw, Aiden. Something else is going on—something other than the immediate need for revenge.”

  “That may be so, but I’d still appreciate it if you’re careful.”

  “Oh, trust me, the only thing I intend to get burned by is your body heat.”

  “Good,” he said, and hung up.

  I shoved the phone back into my pocket and picked up my pace to catch up with Belle—a hard task given her longer legs.

  “Ashworth and Eli felt the explosion and are on their way,” she said. “They should be there the same time as us.”

  I studied the flames shooting skyward and hoped like hell the soucouyant hadn’t taken out the houses—and the people—on either side of Monty’s place. “I guess if this is a trap, we’ll find out pretty quickly if my alterations to the charms worked.”

  We continued to pound down the footpath, our footsteps echoing across the night. There were lots of people standing in the middle of Monty’s street, most of them in pajamas or with dressing gowns wrapped tightly around their bodies. A few had hoses out in an attempt to keep the flames from consuming the houses on either side of Monty’s.

  His place was just a fire pit. I could feel the force and the heat of it long before we got anywhere near it, and it made me wonder if the soucouyant had simply decided to obliterate him.