I turned toward the door and couldn’t help but smile when I saw Vik leaning against the frame. He brushed his hair back and revealed a mass of bruises that ran up his neck and across the side of his face. The fact he was still showing damage was a testament to how bad off he’d been.
“Glad to see you up and about.”
He flashed his fangs with a small smile, gave a flourish with his right hand, and bowed. “While ferrets still walk the earth, so shall I.”
The whole group chuckled.
“Where is Foster?” Vik said.
I was surprised he’d asked about Foster. They barely even spoke to each other. “He went back to the shop with Aideen. I think they’re going to let the cu siths out and take it easy after our fight with Devon.”
“Taking it easy sounds like quite a good idea.” He shuffled over to the bed and sat down beside Sam. “So what’s the verdict, Mom?”
Cara smiled at Vik. I snorted a laugh. I’d never heard him call Cara “Mom” before.
“I don’t think Sam will be free until Devon is dead.”
“What will you do with Sam when you go to do battle with Azzazoth?” Vik said.
“Take her with us,” Zola said.
I blinked at my master. “Really?”
She nodded. “Yes, Ah want to catch Azzazoth as off guard as we possibly can. If Sam isn’t there, he may be suspicious.”
“Why?”
“Zola’s right,” Cara said. “Sam’s aura is tied to Devon. If none of the auras of his followers are there, he could grow suspicious. I doubt he’s different from other demons. He’ll send out a summons to his followers before the gathering.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Devon won’t be the only follower there. We’ll have at least two more party goers.” Another thought nagged at the back of my head. “I need to tell Frank what’s going on. And Sam would want to see him again, just in case.”
***
I wrapped my forearm in gauze after I had carved it up with Cara’s sword to write the blood letter. She stood on the edge of Sam’s writing desk beside a small pile of troll dolls.
“My sword was not made to taste the blood of friends.”
“This is just an exception to the rule,” I said with a small grin.
“You are bleeding badly, Damian,” Zola said as she shuffled out of my peripheral vision. “Ah wish the healing arts would not disrupt the ritual.”
“I’ll get patched up as soon as we’re done.”
I folded the old, yellowed parchment and placed it into the vellum envelope Vik slid across the desk. I dabbed some hot wax onto the flap and sealed it with my thumbprint. Much cursing ensued.
Vik shook his head. “Why is everything so difficult with demons? Why must you blister your thumb to speak with them?”
I glared at Zola with said thumb stuck in my mouth and mumbled, “That’s a good damn question.”
“It has been that way as long as I can remember,” she said with a miniscule lift of her shoulders.
“As long as I can remember as well,” Cara said. “My grandmother used to tell stories of demons who would not speak without the sacrifice of lives. You should be thankful it is only a pinprick on your arm and a burnt thumb.”
I glanced at the gauze and grimaced. “Point taken.” I pushed the chair back from the little writing desk in the bright yellow room and pulled my jacket on. “Alright, I’m going to the mailbox. Zola, you want to wait at the shop or here?”
“We will all wait here,” she said as she settled herself onto Sam’s bed. “We need to rest.”
I looked at Sam.
“Boy, we can’t do her any good if we’re dead.”
“Zola’s right,” Cara said. “I’ll get Foster and Aideen from the shop in the morning.”
I sighed and rubbed my chin. “Alright, early tomorrow then. We’re going south soon as I deliver the bait.”
“Damian, I wish to help,” Vik said.
I turned to the vampire and put a hand on his shoulder. “Rest up. If this goes wrong, you’re going to be the only one left to clean up the mess.”
“Great,” he said with a small roll of his eyes.
I smiled and settled into the chair in the corner.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The look on Frank’s face the next morning, when I told him about Sam, evaporated any doubts I’d ever had about their relationship. He hit me with puppy dog eyes that grew bloodshot and threatened to overflow with tears.
I looked around at the empty shop and took a deep breath. “I’ll get her back Frank. She’s my sister. I love her more than anything else walking this earth.”
Frank nodded and sniffed. His voice came out in a whisper, “How can I help?”
“You already did,” I said with a small shake of my head. “We couldn’t even try this insanity if you hadn’t gotten us our, um, supplies
.”
He nodded once. “God, I feel useless sometimes.”
“Don’t, don’t ever feel useless Frank,” I said as I squeezed his shoulder. “You’re like extended family. Even Cara, well, doesn’t
hate
you.” I grinned.
Frank laughed, it was short, and quiet, but it was real. “Can I see Sam?”
I nodded and led Frank outside. Sam was still sitting in the backseat with her eyes focused on nothing. I opened the passenger door and turned away. “I don’t think she’s aware of anything, but …” I shrugged.
He leaned in and stared at her for a moment, just stared. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and squeezed her hands. Sam just sat there with her blank eyes. Frank’s head sagged and he backed out of the car.
I’m pretty sure a bee stung my eyeball at that point because it started burning and leaking. My lips quivered as I walked around to the driver’s side.
“Kill them, Damian.”
I nodded once as he closed the door and then I left to drop Sam at the Pit again while I invited a demon to dinner.
***
There is a ruin of an old church in the heart of suburbia. Hundreds of years had passed since it was built and hundreds more since it fell. All that remains are the huge gray stones of its foundation. There was much speculation among the local kids about what the building originally was, but only a necromancer could tell you the truth. It was the only church of the damned in the area and its lichen-covered remains were to be avoided on All Hallows Eve. For those psychotic enough to study the infernal arts, it was a place to commune with demons.
Conveniently enough, the ruins were only thirty minutes from my apartment. Out in the West County city of Ballwin, west on Manchester Road, past battalions of strip malls, car dealers, and restaurants, and then south on Reinke Road, I pulled onto a small drive beside an old farmhouse. The area was a mix of old and new homes, all modest in size for the moderately privileged area. I’m sure the homeowners wouldn’t have liked me using the drive on their property, but it was the middle of the day and no one was around.
My feet crunched in the gravel as I left Vicky and headed towards the southern woods. Large oak and walnut trees flanked me before I’d taken a dozen steps. Acorns split beneath my boots and large walnut shells threatened to roll my ankles on the uneven dirt. The path was wide enough to drive a small car through and I followed it for about five minutes until it widened into a meadow. I took a deep breath and extended my senses. A boiling darkness roiled beneath the power I cast out. It was there, just west of the meadow. I shivered and stepped toward the tree line.
The wooded air thickened and the insects fell silent as the ruins came into view. Not even the wind dared to enter the old stone foundation. All that was left of the church was roughly squared off boulders. Over time the weather had smoothed their faces and moss had grown over most of the light gray stones. I don’t know how the builders managed to get the huge stones in place, but I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant.
There was a gap on the short side of the foundation closest to me. It was a narrow staircase and I followed it down to the musty ground below. What wasn’t covered in moss was buried in years of fallen leaves. I sighed and held out my hand.
“Arcesso altaria.”
The leaves shifted and vibrated as a narrow altar of black bone rose from the earth. It looked to be made of charred femurs and smaller bones I couldn’t identify. The flat of the altar was made from dozens of bony fingers laid side by side.
I took one deep breath and pulled hard on a nearby ley line.
“Infernus loquor
Azzazoth,” I said as I laid the letter of blood on the altar. It told the demon where to find Zola and the writings of Philip Pinkerton, Azzazoth’s human captors, and what I wanted in return. I doubted the demon would believe I’d sacrifice my master any more than I believed the demon would honor a bargain.
The black bone burst into flames and swallowed the letter with the curling of a dozen skeletal fingers.
Laughter rang out through the woods around me. I shivered and grimaced as something slithered through my mind.
I will be there, mortal.
The words were slow and heavy and shook the foundation around me.
“So will I,” I whispered. The wind shrieked through the leaves and branches groaned above me as the altar faded into the earth once more.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We drove to Coldwater, Missouri in record time. The blur of pavement gave way to gravel as we wound our way through the hills and woods. We’d just passed the second gate when Cara jumped up on the dashboard.
“We can’t be too close, Damian. If we are, the demon will know there are Fae with you.”
“How close can you be?”
“Not much closer. We’ll need to get out before the fallen oak up ahead. We’ll be ready when the battle begins. Foster, Aideen, and I will circle around behind the pond. If we stay close together and keep a reasonable distance, the demon will have no reason to be suspicious.”
I sighed and rolled down my window as Vicky came to a stop. “I hope you’re right. Be careful.”
Foster stopped just outside the window and hovered with a slow flap of his wings. “Don’t forget this is for Sam.” He glanced at my sister in the back seat, nodded once, and followed the other fairies into the woods. I breathed in the clean country air and watched them fade into the leaves and foliage.
“We will see them again,” Zola said as she tapped the dashboard with her cane.
“Yeah,” I said as I started Vicky forward again. We bounced along the gravel in silence. The woods were always familiar and the shadows felt like home. I’d spent years training on the farm with Zola.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?” she said.
“Everything,” I said as I gestured at the windshield. “Taking care of me and Sam after her attack, training me, helping us with this mess, just … everything.”
She laughed and patted my knee. “There is no need for thanks. You know Ah never would have thought of taking either of you in if it wasn’t for your gift.”
“Well, thanks anyway.”
“We could not ask for a better battlefield, boy. This is home to us both in many ways.”
“It does give us an advantage. We know where the auras and the strongest ley lines are better than anyone.”
“It will make us faster. Something we may need. Something
you
will definitely need.”
“I know. I know it’s risky.” I glanced in the rearview mirror at the blank look on Sam’s face. “I’d do stupider things to save Sam.”
She laughed. “Yes, boy, I believe you would.” Zola smiled as the gravel road unfolded into the grassy field with the little cabin buried in the forest.
***
My heart rate picked up as we bounced up the hill to the cabin Zola and I had spent so much time at.
“What about Sam?” I said.
“Leave her in the car for now. We must work quickly.”
We emptied the wooden shack to the east. Once the lawnmowers, shovels, and toolboxes were out, I opened Vicky’s trunk and we dragged three potato sacks and a crate into the shack. The sacks began squirming, accompanied by the sounds of gagged screams.
Azzazoth was coming.
“You understand what to do, boy?” Zola had a tight grip on the shack’s flimsy door.
I nodded. “Yeah, let’s hope so. It’s a bit late for doubts now.” I opened the crate and glanced at the little red light. I slid the small garage door opener out and put it in my pocket. One deep breath and I flipped the switch beside the light. It turned green and beeped once. I closed the lid and leaned the three potato sacks against the crate.
Vampires and TNT. My thirteen-year-old self would be very happy with the future in store for it.
I pulled the door closed and left the shack unlocked. Sam was still sitting in Vicky, so I gently pulled her out and walked her over by the shack. I was worried about her being so close to the TNT to start with, but Zola thought it was necessary.
“You sure about this?” I said again.
“Yes, Devon is still alive. The demon will call Sam to him through their link. He won’t go near the shack because it’s blessed.”
“The shack with the lawnmowers?” I said as I raised my eyebrows. “Is blessed?” I sighed and shook my head. “Why would … never mind, I don’t want to know. Let’s get ready.”
Zola followed me to the monstrous oak tree some seventy feet away in the middle of the field. It sat on the largest ley line within ten miles of the cabin. Zola held the book we’d found in Pilot Knob between her hands. Her thumb rubbed over the gilt Latin on the cover.
I closed my eyes and extended my aura, which in turn extended a thin ring of power out in all directions over the lines. I took a slow breath and pulled more power into the ring, pushing it through the cabin and the shack, down to the pond, and back the other way along the gravel road.
My breathing slowed as I listened to the land around us. Death was everywhere at our little home. Zola had buried things here, deer, bears, groundhogs, vampires, people. The ribbons of dead auras flared as my power rolled over them, lending more strength to the thin disc around me, twining my necromancy with the ley lines.
Relief flowed through me when I found a small cluster of Fae auras on the other side of the pond. Foster, Aideen, and Cara were ready. I let the power go. The thin casting pulled back toward my aura and returned the powers of the dead to their rightful places. Just before the disc dissipated, I felt another presence simply
appear
behind the cabin.