Guilt washed over me. I’d been at home stuffing my face with microwave burritos and sleeping like the dead, and she’d been trapped in this dank building. I pulled off my leather coat and handed it to her. She hesitated before taking it and pulling it on, hugging it against herself for warmth.
“I woke up and she—Jade—was standing over my bed. And then everything got fuzzy.” She rubbed her arms. “I think she hit me with some kind of confusion spell. Is that a thing?”
“Faeries have the ability to glamour people,” I said. “It’s a form of magical mind control.”
“Faeries?” Krissy asked, voice going up an octave.
From the corner, Conor shot me a look. I ignored him. Krissy had a cursed tattoo and she’d just spent a whole day locked up in an abandoned building, the prisoner of a faerie half-witch with a grudge. She deserved the truth, even if she was only human.
“The fae aren’t usually malicious,” I said. Not overtly, anyhow. I kept that part to myself. Krissy had enough nightmare fuel to last her the rest of her natural life. Which wasn’t going to be that long if we didn’t figure out how to get us both un-cursed.
Krissy considered this, gaze sort of lazily looking me over until she spotted the tattoo on my arm. She sucked in a breath. “Oh my god. She got you, too!”
“Yeah. I went to question her and...” I gestured to the ink. “She sort of tricked me into it.”
Krissy’s shoulders slumped and for the first time, she looked really defeated. She’d looked down and out before but never totally hopeless. Her face went slack, her eyes going dead, and she just stood there, rocking slightly on her feet. “We’re screwed,” she whispered. “There are faeries in the world and I’m screwed.”
“No one is screwed,” Conor said, the authoritative tone making the words sound funny, like a parody of what a Watcher would say. “We’re tracking her down and once we do, we’ll force her to reverse the curses.”
Krissy looked to me, as if for confirmation.
“Conor is like a magical cop,” I said. “He’s not going to let her get away with this.”
She nodded, like that made perfect sense. Hell, maybe it was comforting for her to know that along with evil tattoo artist witches and faeries, there were magical police to help keep it all in check.
“Dani.” Conor’s voice was a low warning growl.
I rolled my eyes. “She has a right to know what’s going on.”
The air shifted, buzzing with a faint electricity. Conor and I exchanged a glance.
Magic.
The roof creaked. Conor swore.
“We need to get out of here,” he said, turning toward the metal door he’d found earlier.
The ceiling exploded.
And then everything happened so fast: I rushed to Krissy’s side, pulling her down on the ground. Conor threw something at me. I reached up and caught it automatically. A protection spell, I realized. I wanted to yell at him for giving me his protection but then I saw Conor raise his shield wand. I tossed the spell on the ground, pushing my magic into it. A shield spell rose around Krissy and I as we crouched low to the ground.
The ceiling fell, pieces of wood and detritus raining down in a torrent of debris. Krissy whimpered, shaking beside me as nails and wood bounced off the shield above.
It couldn’t have taken more than a moment, but it felt like stuff fell on top of us for ages. When it finally stopped, the silence rang loud.
I let go of the spell and the shield faded.
Most of the debris had come down around us, bouncing off the spell and forming a barrier of wood and metal like a silo, leaving us trapped in the center. Only the small circle we occupied remained mostly clear, save for the small bits of wood and dust that had fallen before I’d gotten the shield up.
“Are you okay?” I asked Krissy. Blood thrummed loud in my ears but otherwise, I was unscathed.
Krissy nodded, patting herself down. “I think so.”
“I guess that was the trap,” I muttered. Jade must have rigged the ceiling to collapse on top of us somehow. Whether she was nearby and set it off herself or it had been triggered some other way, I didn’t know.
“Conor!” I shouted.
“I’m over here,” Conor called back. Relief washed over me. “You both okay?”
“We’re alive,” I said. Krissy looked faintly traumatized but who could blame her?
I took a deep breath, coughing on the dusty, dirty air. I spun in a circle, surveying the walls of debris. It was almost ten feet high on one side and maybe seven feet on the other. I tried to lift some of it, but the pile creaked and Krissy gasped.
“Don’t,” she said. “It’ll cave in on us.”
That was definitely a risk. The shield spell had protected us during the fall but now this stuff was precariously balanced in unsteady piles around us and the spell was spent. And without the force of the shield spell, there was nothing to hold it back.
“We’re trapped over here,” I called to Conor. “Can you get out?”
I heard shifting of materials and then a sigh. “I’m near the door,” Conor called. “I think I can clear a path and then I’ll head to you.”
“No,” I said immediately. “Too risky. This stuff might come crashing down on us like an avalanche.” And with two bad luck curses hanging over our heads, I didn’t want to tempt fate.
I could practically feel Conor’s frown, even though I couldn’t see his face.
“Get yourself out,” I called.
“No,” Conor replied immediately.
Irritation flared. I appreciated chivalry as long it wasn’t dancing toe-to-toe with stubborn stupidity. “Go get help. I’m going to see if I can get us out but if not, you can bring back reinforcements.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Conor said, “Fine. But be careful. I won’t be long.”
The sound of wood and metal being pushed aside rang in the air. I watched uneasily as the walls of our small safe space vibrated slightly. I heard the metal side door scrape against the floor and let out a breath. Conor was safe.
“I’ll call for backup!” he yelled.
“Good!” I called.
The leaning tower of wood and metal to the left on the highest side creaked and shifted. I swore.
I couldn’t risk waiting for backup. Krissy and I were in an empty chasm like a vacuum and this crap might come crashing in to fill it at any moment. And even then, a crew of Watchers trying to dig us out created the same problem as Conor doing it: the risk that this mess wasn’t going to hold and moving it around would only cause it to collapse on top of us.
We could try to dig ourselves out and hope not to get buried in the process. Or I could burn the crap out of it with demon fire and clear a path that way.
But Conor might see the blue flames. He might figure out what I did.
Hell, he was right there. He was a trained demon hunter. There was a strong chance he’d know. And then he’d turn me in to his bosses and get some kind of award for capturing the witch who wielded demon magic, while I’d get shoved in a dungeon to rot with this curse inked into my skin.
A piece of board that had been clinging to what remained of the ceiling’s frame lost its battle with gravity and came crashing down. It was several feet away from us but I ducked out of reflex. As soon as it hit the mound of debris, the debris started to slide.
I swore, my pulse racing.
Keeping my secret wouldn’t do me a hell of a lot of good if I were smushed under a pile of rotten wood and roofing materials.
Krissy was shaking her head, lips moving, maybe in prayer. I touched her shoulder.
“Listen to me. It’s going to be all right. I have a plan. But I need you to stay behind me, okay? It’s going to get hot.”
“Wait, what are you going to do?” Krissy asked, her voice high pitched with fear.
“I’m going to get us out of here.”
I conjured demon fire, pulling energy and magic from my veins and my bones until I had blu
e flames coming out of both my palms. I pushed it in front of me, willing the fire to burn through the wood and insulation piled in front of me.
Krissy squealed. I’m sure the thought of me setting the debris we were currently trapped in on fire didn’t strike her as a great idea. Maybe if I’d had more time to think about it, neither would I. But it wasn’t normal fire. It obeyed my commands, chewing through the debris in a straight line, clearing a path. Smoke filled the air but the demon fire was fast, turning the wood and metal to ash in a fraction of the time it would take normal fire.
I followed the flames until we reached a clearing. This must have been where Conor had been trapped. The door was only feet away and wide open, fresh air rushing in, and there was a path to it cleared. I dropped the flames and took a deep breath of the clean air. Then I reached back, pulling Krissy in front of me.
“That guy out there asks, I used my sword to clear the way, got it?” I said to her.
Her eyes were wide and wild with fear. She nodded dumbly and I pushed her forward, through the clearing Conor had made and out the door.
Conor was on the phone. He nearly dropped it when he saw us. He said “Never mind,” and hung up his call. Relief washed over his face and he rushed forward, stopping short of embracing me. And then he changed his mind and hugged me lightly.
“You got out!” He beamed at me, his smile infectious. Between his elation and my relief, I felt like I was walking on air. “How?”
He had to smell the acrid smoke of the demon fire, even though I’d extinguished it. It was a distinct odor. But maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t. Maybe I could get away with this.
“I cut through the debris and made a path. Stuff was still falling and I didn’t have a choice.” Not lies. All true. The key was to avoid divulging the details.
Conor did not frown but he pulled away and his smile dimmed as he stared behind me at the mess. I’d only burned a small path through the debris but if he went inside and took a look, it would be obvious I’d used fire, not a sword.
“What now?” Krissy asked. Conor turned from the doorway and I wanted to kiss her. “Are you gonna like, arrest this tattoo artist, or whatever?”
“As soon as we find her, that is the plan,” Conor said.
I looked at him, surprised. Just yesterday, he’d been worried about the Accords. Of course, I wasn’t sure how that worked if she was both a witch and a faerie. I didn’t think that had ever happened before.
“Then we need to find her,” Krissy said. She looked wrecked. Out in the streetlights, I could see dark circles under her eyes and her face was gaunt and tight.
“Yeah, we do,” I said. “Did she give any indication of where she was staying?”
Krissy shook her head. I hadn’t expected Jade to give Krissy her address, but I’d hoped maybe she’d inadvertently dropped a hint.
Sirens blared in the distance. Maybe a concerned citizen had heard or seen the roof collapse. I looked at Conor, who shook his head. They weren’t Watcher sirens.
I nodded. “Then we should get out of here.”
Conor and I started to walk but Krissy didn’t move. I reached for her hand, trying to tug her along.
“Shouldn’t I talk to the cops?” she asked. “I mean, I was kidnapped.”
“They can’t help you,” I said.
Krissy looked unsure. The sirens got louder. My pulse raced.
“Look,” I said, “you can try to explain what’s going on with you and your tattoo, and tell them what happened, but they’ll believe maybe half of it if you’re lucky. Best case scenario, they get in our way while we’re trying to track Jade down. Worse case? They write you off as a loon and you get sued for damaging this building.”
Her eyes widened again. “But I didn’t—”
“I know. But mortal bureaucracy isn’t fair and these curses mean the worst case scenario is the most likely outcome right now.”
She sighed, relenting, and let me lead her away.
We made it back to Conor’s car before my muscles unclenched. Conor sniffed the air and gave me a funny look. I froze, heart hammering against my ribs. Did I still smell like demon fire? Could he sense it?
If he knew…
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head, a little crinkle appearing in his forehead. “Nothing. I just…” He trailed off. “I thought I caught a whiff of something.”
“I don’t smell anything,” I said.
He glanced around, searching the shadows for signs of danger. Then he shrugged.
I swallowed, my throat dry as a desert, and climbed into his SUV.
Krissy climbed into the back seat and buckled up.
“Where to now?” Conor asked, as he started the engine.
I didn’t know. I was out of ideas. I’d given my blood to a kelpie, for god’s sake. There wasn’t anyone else I could beat up for answers. Jade could be anywhere. She’d grabbed Krissy and dragged her out here, and then sent me a note enticing me to find her, but she might have skipped town. Worse, she might have gone through a portal into the Summerlands where we couldn’t follow.
Except I doubted that. Jade was malicious. She wanted people to suffer or else why curse them? And what fun was it if she wasn’t around to see? She had to be close.
“Is there a place nearby we can gather supplies and cast a spell?” I asked.
Krissy shifted uncomfortably in the back but didn’t protest.
Conor considered for a moment and then said, “I think I know a place.”
Chapter 16
Conor drove for less than ten minutes and parked outside of a luxury apartment tower in Belltown, a newly gentrified neighborhood to the west of downtown Seattle. It still had many of the old dive bars but the streets had been widened in places and new streetlights had been installed in order to chase off the shadows and the people who were using them to hide supposedly nefarious acts.
There had actually been a higher rate of crime and drug use in the area, but most of the folks who got chased out were just homeless people trying to get shut eye. It always amused me how mundanes, who didn’t even know the extent of the real horrors around them, were so quick to demonize their fellow humans who were just trying to survive.
Krissy and I followed Conor to the apartment’s callbox. He rang up his friend and a person answered almost immediately, buzzing us in.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“An apartment building,” Conor said gruffly.
I scowled at him as we piled into the elevator. “And whose apartment is here?”
“A friend’s.”
“He’s very forthcoming,” Krissy said.
We shared a conspiratorial smirk but my stomach still roiled with apprehension, wondering where the hell Conor had brought us. Not that I was in a position to be picky.
We rode up to the eighth floor and the elevator dinged open. The hallway was miraculously clean for an apartment building, with blue carpet that looked new and unstained. Doormats of various shapes and colors sat in front of every door. The doors were painted white—brave choice—and still looked immaculate.
Conor knocked on a door in the middle of the hall. It opened and a dude who looked a lot like Conor answered. He had dark hair and the same brooding eyes, with a little dusting of stubble on his face. He had sharper features—a pointed chin, more prominent cheekbones—and he was prettier than handsome. But still, they had to be related.
“Cuz!” the man said, greeting us with open arms. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Work keeps me busy,” Conor said, not moving to embrace his cousin. “Can we come in?”
Conor’s cousin looked over at Krissy and I. All three of us were covered in dust and grime and probably looked like a hot mess but he smiled kindly and nodded, gesturing for us to pile inside, despite the fact that we were about to track dirt and chaos all over his pristine wood floors.
His apartment was larger than I would have expected from the exterior. There was a huge living
area with the kitchen off to the side, flanked by a dining nook with a stylish glass table and black chairs. His living room furniture was black, including the coffee table, and he had a big screen television mounted to the wall. Behind the sofa was a door leading to a hall, where presumably his bedroom and bathroom were.
“This is my cousin, Mark,” Conor said.
Mark shook our hands and we introduced ourselves.
“We needed a place to regroup,” Conor explained. “And we need to cast a spell.”
Mark raised his eyebrows but then said, “Okay, sure. Except isn’t she...” he hooked a thumb in Krissy’s direction.
“She’s being targeted by an evil witch,” I told him, in order to explain why a human was with us.
Conor gave Mark a very condensed version of events while I went through his spell kit and spice cabinet to gather what I needed. Mark had made coffee and put me to work at the kitchen table. Krissy sat beside me cupping a mug of steaming coffee, looking dazed.
“What are you doing?” Krissy asked, watching me sort through glass jars.
“I’m going to try and track Jade through her magic,” I said.
She looked up, brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you do that before?”
“I couldn’t have,” I pulled out an almost empty bottle of turmeric and shook it, the orange powder in the bottom clouding the glass. “Or at least, I didn’t think to try. To be honest, I’m not sure this will work. Usually, in order to track someone, you need their blood.”
“Oh,” she said, crestfallen. We obviously didn’t have Jade’s blood. Or hair. Or anything useful in terms of tracking spells.
“But she put her magic into our blood when she cursed us,” I said. “And I’m going to see if I can use that.”
“That’s genius,” Mark said from the living area, where he and Conor were sitting.
“It’s not going to work,” Conor said. He sounded tired. I didn’t blame him. If I thought about how tired I was, I would pass out on the spot, so I didn’t.
I took another swig of my own coffee and kept working, gathering ingredients: dandelion leaves, wormwood, turmeric, and jasmine. I mashed it all up using a mortar and pestle and dumped it all into my borrowed cauldron. Then I took a knife from the knife block and pricked part of my tattoo, leaning over the pot awkwardly to let several drops of blood fall on top of the herb mixture. My tattoo still looked raw and infected. Krissy made a face and gave me a lecture on tattoo care.
Demon Rogue (Brimstone Magic Book 3) Page 11