covencraft 04 - dry spells (25 page)

As disturbing as that was, she didn’t feel surprised about it. “When we first got here, you said you were going to punch a hole through to get us back.”

“You mean when I found out I was spectacularly bound here by Sakkara because of you,” he added, his tone dry.

“Yes, yes, yes, me, me, me, I’m the most horrible witch that ever was. Anyway. Would that be an unfixed location to an unfixed location, or did you know where we would end up once you punched us through? If it had worked, I mean.”

“Very good. You understand. Unfixed to unfixed. We could have arrived in the middle of Arctic Ocean.”

“So I would have died from hypothermia,” she deadpanned.

Seth waved a hand, as though this were inconsequential. “Meh. Magic, dear girl. You forget. Wherever you go, there you are. Once on the mortal side, you or I could have used magic to get us out of wherever.”

“But not here.”

“But not here,” Seth repeated, his voice sounding resentful and irritated. “Everything on this side requires payment. Payment for magic, payment for portal use, payment for transport. You saw that when we had to bleed you to get this car.”

At his words, Jade looked down at the makeshift bandage she had on her arm, made from a bit of the hem of her shirt. It didn’t hurt and her morbid curiosity got the better of her and she poked at the edge until she could see the non-healing wound underneath. Still as pink and moist as it had been when Mnemosyne had cut her.

“What about the spell Dex did to get away from me?” Jade asked. It had been some kind of teleportation spell, she knew that much, and Seth had once mentioned it had ugly, nasty consequences. “Is that through portals?”

Seth shook his head. “No, and were I you, I wouldn’t mess about with them.”

“But demons can use them,” Jade remembered Seth saying.

“We can. But they’re not for inter-dimensional travel. Strictly for use on the human side. Our physics are too muddled for it to be certain. And, of course, we have to go through Customs for travel on this side, may the un-dead gods help us.”

Seth said the word in such a way that Jade could hear the capital letter implied. “What’s Customs?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like, crossing from one part into the next: a toll booth, the river Styx, a demonic game show and immigration all rolled into one.” Seth sighed. “I only hope there’s no paperwork. Ye gods, the paperwork.”

Paperwork didn’t sound so bad to Jade. She could do paperwork. Fill in some forms, cross some Ts, dot some Is.

“There’s not enough blood in both of us, nor human skin on you, for all that paperwork,” Seth added and Jade quickly changed her mind. Paperwork sounded horrible.

“We can’t go around?”

Seth snorted - a mirthless sound. “There is no around. Let’s hope they only tax us.”

Jade looked out the passenger window again, squinting her eyes against the landscape. Something with tentacles was moving alongside the car, keeping pace with them. Seth must see it too, but he didn’t seem concerned and so Jade tried not to be bothered by the pale yellow and brown thing. It was like watching a rolling ball of pasta devouring itself.

“And this is where you live,” Jade said, needing to confirm again even though she knew the answer. “When you aren’t… showing up in my pantry or making deals with other witches or whatever. You live here.”

“We don’t live in the Dearth,” Seth repeated. “We exist.”

#

It was strange to be at the Coven. Strange to be at work as though it was a regular day and Jade wasn’t trapped in the demon world and his back-from-the-dead mother wasn’t living at his house. He noticed that a few Coven witches openly stopped at stared as he and Lily got out of his car and made their way to the double doors of the Covenstead. It was rather early so there weren’t many people about, but he was nonetheless surprised by the number of people they did encounter, and of those, how many ogled.

“I told you we should have come separately,” Lily said.

“I don’t think the bus allows lizards.”

Bruce’s talons made a clickity-clack sound on the marble floor as they crossed the foyer.

“They let dogs ride. If it fits in your purse, it can ride for free, but if it can’t, you have to buy it a ticket.”

Paris paused, stopping to look at her. She seemed entirely serious.

Lily shrugged. “Jade looked it up. Besides, we have a car now.”

“There’s hardly a point in taking two cars to the same place only to drive them both back.” He started walking again. Henri wasn’t at his desk yet, which was fairly usual for this early in the morning. He tended to show up a few minutes after Paris. Paris was relieved his schedule was still the same and he didn’t have to face Henri’s questions at the moment. Like why he was arriving at the Coven with Jade’s double, but not Jade.

“Yeah, except for how everyone thinks we’re doing the walk of shame right now.” Lily’s green eyes slid sideways as she watched a woman come down the large staircase. The woman, a middle-aged witch Paris recognized from HR, watched them carefully before heading toward the cafeteria, likely for her morning dose of caffeine.

“What’s the walk of shame?”

Lily hitched her purse on her shoulder. It was a brightly colored bag - the like of which he’d not seen Jade sport before. Now that he thought about it, Jade tended to favor neutrals - grey, white, black, with some sparse pops of color. Sometimes red or blue. Or pink. It appeared Lily preferred more color in her wardrobe, if the bright red bag and matching shoes were anything to go by, along with the sparkly earrings.

“You know, the walk of shame. Where you have to stumble to work in the clothes you wore last night.” She looked at him expectantly. He looked down briefly at himself. His outfit was slightly wrinkled, but it was clean. He’d not had time to run out and purchase anything else. “Because you didn’t go home the night before.” She made a ‘you know’ gesture with her hand and rolled her eyes. “Jesus, you two,” she muttered and then continued louder. “They think I’m Jade and that we had sex last night.” She took a long swig of coffee from her travel mug. Bruce tipped his face up like he was waiting for a rogue drop to come his way.

“It’s none of their business what did or did not happen,” Paris said, heading toward the dungeon. The demon grimoire he brought with him was heavy in his arms. He kept the book close, almost as though he could keep the magic from escaping as long as he kept it near him. At the same time, he hated the way it felt against his hands; thick and grimy, as though layers of filth were embedded into the very core of it. He wanted to poke around for some books on runeology and then touch base with Callie, possibly work on deciphering some of Sakkara’s spells.

Callie might have further avenues to pursue, but he was sure he could get started using her indexing system. He didn’t think anything he learned could help Jade, but he also knew he had to do something. Unless he was willing to speak to Sakkara again and accept her non-answers, he was left with going through her grimoires. He guessed he would have about an hour with the grimoire before the headaches started. He had no idea how Jade managed to work with them for so long.

Perhaps he didn’t want to know. Jade worked well with demon magic. Paris suspected she even preferred it and that worried him. No one dealt in demon magic, not at his Coven. Or so he’d thought until Sakkara showed up alive on his doorstep after years of him thinking her dead. It was strange that Jade was good with demon magic, stranger still that Sakkara was involved and concerning that they both had the demon magic in common.

Although Jade made no secret of her magic. She didn’t flaunt it in front of him, but she used a demon locking spell on her cottage, to keep intruders out, and she would read the demon grimoires in front of him. Belatedly he realized Lily was still talking.

“I’m just pointing out that showing up together at six thirty in the morning with you in wrinkly clothes is kind of like broadcasting certain things have happened.”

“Well, they haven’t. And it’s disrespectful for anyone to assume anything.” He glared at another Coven witch that happened by, this time a young man from Supernatural Relations.

“Hey, I agree,” Lily said, following him into the cramped spiral staircase that led to the dungeon. “I’m just saying they’ll naturally assume I’m her because they’re more used to seeing her.”

“Why should that make a difference?”

“Because you and her have a thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know, a thing. A ‘looking at each other with significant eyes’ thing.” Lily appraised him frankly. “You and I already had this discussion.”

He had no idea what she was talking about and frankly, with the weight of the demon grimoire in his hand, he had no wish to figure out what she meant.

“And,” she continued, “unless you’d rather tell everyone you’re staying at our place because your undead demon-dealing mother is crashing at yours… Oh, Bruce, watch your legs; these stairs are narrow. You might have to go backwards.”

Paris turned his head slightly to see Bruce turn himself around and start down the stairs, ass-end first, using his tail to balance on the stair below him before backing down.

“God, he’s dedicated. He just wants to help,” Lily said regarding Bruce.

“It’s still none of their business,” Paris repeated, regarding the gossip mongering denizens of the Coven. He groaned inwardly. Of course Lily was correct. By noon he was sure it would be all over the Coven that he’d arrived with her spectacularly early this morning. “Though I suppose a little misdirection might help keep the truth from getting out.”

“About your undead mom? Yeah. Something tells me that’s a worse thing to have out there than you sleeping over at Jade’s place.”

Once reaching the bottom of the stairs, Paris flicked on the lights, disappointed when they only let off a dim, weak glow. Callie had mentioned getting the dungeon rewired for better lighting, but she often forgot little projects once she got ensconced in her books. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Lily to light some of the sconces with her magic until he remembered that she wasn’t nearly as proficient as Jade with flames and he was better off doing it himself. He set the grimoire down on the table, taking a moment to stare at its innocuous appearance.
Just a book,
he told himself. Unless he worked the actual magic, it was just a book. A record. Inert.

He took his coat off and draped it over one of the chairs at a long wooden table. Paris knew the library peripherally and where he wanted to start looking. Going over to the section he was interested in, he could see Lily out of the corner of his eye. She still had her coat and purse on, idly trailing her fingers over the spines of books.

“When Jade does this,” Lily said, “she’s gets this sense of them. Like little vibrations.”

Paris pulled a runeology book off the shelf, weighing it in his hands. “I didn’t know that. Do you feel them as well?”

Lily pulled her hand back. “No. But I can feel it in her memories. Like holding onto something mechanical that’s running. A motor. And then letting go and still feeling the tremors in your hand.” She looked down and opened and closed her palm once or twice before tucking it into her coat.

“What does it tell her about the books?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you-” Paris stopped himself, wanting to ask, but afraid of what the answer would be. Had she tried to contact Jade today? He was afraid of what it would mean if Lily tried and failed. Or tried and succeeded only to find out that Jade was injured or scared. Or worse.

In the terrible void between knowing Jade was fine and knowing she wasn’t, he sometimes preferred to wait in the uncertain middle - too afraid of getting the wrong answer.

Lily hunched in on herself, a pensive look on her face. Her gaze shifted to the wall; only he could tell she wasn’t staring at the dark stones, but staring through them. She seemed to know what he wanted to ask, and answered him anyway.

“I dreamt last night I was in a car. On a long highway. It was bright outside. It had been dark, but now it was bright.” She frowned. “I don’t think it was a dream. I think it was her. I was in the passenger seat, with my feet on the dash.”

Thinking of Jade in that sort of posture made him relax some. That wasn’t the sort of posture one had when trapped or frightened. “Do you get a sense of her now?”

Her brows furrowed, her gaze sliding sideways. Bruce let out a low huff. He was under the long table, only his tail visible to Paris. “I don’t think so,” Lily said, unsure. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the wall. “She’s better at reaching through and finding me than I am with her.” She shivered where she stood.

“Cold?” Paris asked.

“Hmm?” Lily replied, finally pulling her eyes away from the blank cobble stone and looking at him.

“Are you cold? You’ve not taken your jacket off.” He made his way back to the table, setting the tome on runeology next to the grimoire.

“Neither has she. Where she is,” Lily replied. She pulled her hands out of the pockets and then pulled the sleeve up on one of her arms, looking down at it. “But I thought…” She rubbed the thumb of one hand over the flesh of her inner arm, staring at it as though confused.

“You thought what?”

She pulled the sleeve of her coat back down and buried her hands in her pockets. “I thought I saw something. On her arm, but it could just be a memory.”

“What did you see?”

Lily turned away from him, examining the spines of the books on the shelves. “A cut.”

Paris didn’t want to imagine Jade hurt or wounded where she was, but Lily’s words were vague. A cut could be anything. She didn’t seem concerned. More pensive and thoughtful. “Did it hurt?”

“No, but the deep ones never do,” she answered.

Bruce sighed from under the table, drawing Paris’ attention from Lily to him. He shimmied closer, his snout now poking out from under the table.

“I should go to work. Pretend to be her.”

Paris was confused. “Why?”

Lily headed for the stairs. “Because people expect her here. Because it’s easier to explain that I’m gone and not her. I know you don’t like it. I think one of the first things you said to me was not to pretend to be her,” Lily said, reminding Paris of when he’d first encountered the two of them, together for the first time. People had assumed Lily was Jade and Lily had played along. She’d done it so well, so quickly and flawlessly. Paris had hated it immediately. He’d told her never to do it again. “But I just feel like she’s not so far away. When I’m her. And no one will ask me about her if I pretend.”