Hexed (16 page)

She made her way to her tiny kitchenette and concocted a poor facsimile of a cup of tea before getting to work. She scooped an arm full of books from a corner shelf and spread them out on the floor, each open to their table of contents. If she wanted to know how to get to the Shade, she needed to ask a witch. But before she could do that, she had to find one. And witches had never been terribly fond of advertising their presence. They much prefer their anonymity, which is why asking one for mystical directions was a great way to get yourself killed. Or worse.

But Lucifer would have to worry about that later. Right now she simply had to find one, and that wasn't going to be easy. There weren't very many witches to begin with, and the few there were were generally hermetic. They often went to great magical means to hide themselves from the world. Though there were ways to expose them, they tended to make them infinitely more unpleasant.

Three cups of tea later, Lucifer found what she was looking for. A witch by the name of Minnie Hester had come to prominence during the Great Depression. She was a huckster who took advantage of everyone's hard luck by posing as a fortune teller. That wasn't terribly uncommon since most witches thrived on others' misfortunes. Mostly she just took what little money they had and then told them what they wanted to hear. A typical grift of the time, but she also used her sessions as a way to learn who was thinking of leaving town for greener pastures. When those people suddenly vanished from town, no one ever thought twice about it.

It wasn't until the great hurricane of '36 when the flooding unearthed the ritually mutilated bodies of all those people buried under her home that she became suspect. But no one had seen her since that horrific storm. She was presumed killed by the hurricane, though several locals swore they saw her standing on the rocks just offshore, naked, howling into the tempest that wiped their poor town of Cape Vale from the map.

The town wasn't too far away. Only a few hours by car. Lucifer felt both relieved and a bit disconcerted. She wouldn't have to travel out of the country to find a witch, but only because one lived nearby. And there was no guarantee Minnie Hester was even still there. It was true that witches had unnaturally long lives, but it was quite possible that Minnie was swept up in the waves along with the rest of Cape Vale. But at least it was a place to start.

Now all she needed was a plan. Because if she was going to ask Minnie how to get to Witchdown, Lucifer was going to need a plan if she wanted to survive the experience.

Lucifer pulled her phone from her trick bag and typed a quick text message to David.

Got
a
lead.
Pick
me
up
in
1
hr.
Wear
something
nice.

She took a quick shower and then picked out her wardrobe. Lucifer much preferred wearing neutral colors that allowed her to blend in and go unnoticed: grays, greens, browns, and the occasional blacks. Unless you were on a night gig, wearing all black often made you as conspicuous as a dog walking on its hind legs. For the first part of her plan, Lucifer was going to need something a bit more typical for a girl her age. She ultimately decided on a pair of capri pants and a bright-orange blouse adorned with a pattern of yellow flowers. The clothes made her feel awkward, exposed, like she was wearing a giant neon sign that said, “Over here! Look at me!” But that was also the point.

Lucifer grabbed a couple of hair bands and pulled her hair into pigtails before slinging her trick bag over her shoulder and rushing downstairs. David was already waiting for her, patiently leaning against his car. David was wearing chinos and a madras button-up shirt that made his eyes shine like winter ice in morning sunlight.

“Lucifer, is that you?” David asked. “I almost didn't recognize you. You look so . . .”

“Ridiculous?”

“I was going to say ‘cute.'” His hypnotic smile spread across his face but then dissolved into an embarrassed frown. “I mean, not that you weren't cute before, but, uh . . . I just . . . uh . . .” He trailed off, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before saying, “You look very nice, Lucifer.”

“Thank you,” Lucifer said, becoming suddenly aware that she was blushing.

“You said to wear something nice. I hope this is okay,” he said, gesturing at his outfit.

Lucifer forced herself to focus on the task at hand and ignore the way his forearms peeked out from beneath his rolled shirt cuffs and the line of his collar bones visible under the light fabric. “It'll do,” she said.

David opened the passenger door, and she got inside. When he slipped behind the wheel, he asked her, “So, you've got a lead on how to get to Witchdown?”

“I do.”

“Okay. So then where are we going?”

Lucifer self-consciously twirled one of her pigtails around her finger. “On a date.”

CHAPTER 16

They arrived at the Brisendine Art Gallery just before opening. The day was shaping up to be unseasonably warm, and the only evidence of the rain from the evening before were a few dark puddles still clinging to life in the shadows. The grounds of the gallery were impeccably designed. Greenery spiraled up the walls of the building in perfectly symmetrical columns, while the stone walkways meandered among odd sculptures of angled steel and flowered butterfly sanctuaries.

Lucifer and David sat on a small bench across from a water fountain. The water shot out of the base in thick lines that arced over a pool where a handful of sparrows splashed about in the shallow water. But Lucifer wasn't paying attention to the chaotic dance of the birds or the pristine beauty surrounding her. She was at work, and she had her eye on different things.

However, David was making it very difficult for her to concentrate.

His presence was really becoming a distraction, but it was a distraction Lucifer found herself wanting more and more. She could be herself around him. Yes, he was handsome and intelligent, but it was the way he was around her that she found so intoxicating. David knew she was a thief, he knew she moved in a world of magic, and most importantly he didn't flinch or scowl every time he said her name. When she was near him, she felt normal. He made her forget all about the Harlot and the horrible mark on her shoulder.

David said, “Gina and I came here once.”

Lucifer's stomach twisted.

“It was our second date, I think. We didn't stay very long, though, since my buddy Crix was having a pool party the same day.” He turned to Lucifer and smiled. “I'm looking forward to actually seeing some of the art this time.”

Lucifer ignored the roiling inside her and said, “Are you an art fan?”

“Not really. I wrote a pretty in-depth paper on the Impressionists for an AP class, but I did it more for the college credit than any passion for art. What about you?”

“I love art. But I have absolutely no idea who any of the artists are or why one piece is better than another. I just like looking at pretty things.”

“So do I,” David said.

Lucifer wasn't sure if it was the way her hair was pulled up into pigtails or the way David was looking at her that made her blush. She would have given anything to be wearing her hoodie at the moment.

“So, what exactly are we doing here?” David asked.

“Working.”

“Working,” David said, nodding his head. “'Cause it feels a lot like sitting.”

“Patience isn't a strong suit of yours, is it?”

He grimaced. “Sorry, it's just that I'm supposed to be helping save my girlfriend's life and instead I'm here on a date.”

“David, by helping me you're helping her,” Lucifer said. “And this
isn't
a date. It's only supposed to look like a date. You're my beard.”

“Excuse me?”

“My beard. You know, like a costume.”

“I know what ‘beard' means.” David bit his lip, suppressing a chuckle. “What if I want to be a sexy mustache instead?”

“Oooo, gross.”

“Hey, my dad has a mustache.”

“Then I feel sorry for your mom.”

David frowned. “Yeah, I do too. It's one of those bushy, muskrat-looking things.” David waggled his fingers under his nose in a way that made Lucifer cringe and giggle at the same time. “Why do you need a beard?”

“We're supposed to look like a typical couple on a date.”

“I've figured that much, at least. But if we're not on a date, what exactly are we doing here?”

Lucifer smiled. “We're casing the joint. There's something inside I need, but before I can steal it, I need to know exactly what I'm getting into. Like I told you at the Worcester House, I don't like going into a place without knowing all the ins and outs.”

“You're going to teach me how to be an art thief?” The excitement in David's voice sent the frolicking birds scattering into the air.

“No,” Lucifer said as she reached up and playfully put her hand over David's mouth. She could feel his warm breath on the palm of her hand. “Keep your voice down. You want everyone to hear?”

David gently pulled her hand away, but instead of letting go, he held onto it, pressing it against his chest. The butterflies in Lucifer's stomach fluttered wildly enough to have set off a thousand hurricanes on the far side of the world. David said, “Sorry, sorry, but I've never cased a joint before.”

“Oh, please don't say that. For some reason it sounds ridiculous when you say it.”

“What? Case the joint?”

“Stop.”

David curled his lip and spoke in a whiny gangster drawl that sent Lucifer into fits of laughter. “Listen here, see. We're casin' the joint, see. Any lip from you and I'll pump you full of lead, see.”

“Enough!” She gave him a gentle, playful push. He laughed and let go of her hand, a gesture that surprisingly disappointed her. Lucifer composed herself all the while castigating herself for pushing him. If she hadn't pushed him, maybe he would still be holding her hand. And right now, holding his hand seemed like the most important thing in the world.

“I may not look like a thief,” David said with a throaty whisper, “but I'll have you know that I can be dark and mysterious, too.”

This time Lucifer didn't try to stifle her laughter. “Okay there, Vincenzo Peruggia. What are we looking for, then?”

David looked around for a moment before pointing to one of the security cameras over the front door. “We find out where all the cameras are—”

“Good god, man, stop pointing!” Lucifer quickly pulled his arm down. “Maybe you should just stick with being pretty,” she said.

David pretended to flip his hair behind his shoulder and fluttered his eyelashes. “No one ever loves me for my mind.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lucifer said, punching him in the arm. “C'mon, I want to walk around the grounds a bit before they open up.”

When they stood, David reached out and grabbed her hand. When he saw Lucifer's surprised expression, he said, “I'm your beard, right? Then I better look the part.”

It was a fiction. It wasn't a real date, and Lucifer knew that he was only here to help Gina, but she wanted to pretend. She wanted to imagine herself spending the day at an art gallery with a nice boy. No Harlot, no mark on her shoulder, no living as a thief in the mystical underbelly of the world. Just a normal girl on a normal date with a normal boy. She was never going to know what it was like to live life as a normal girl, so there was no harm in pretending just for an afternoon. Was there?

They walked hand-in-hand along the winding pathway to the back of the gallery where a small labyrinth of hedges sat on a shallow rise. Birds flitted and chirped among the thick brambles while a small squirrel made its way across the dewy grass in stops and starts. But the thrill of holding David's hand turned Lucifer's surroundings into misty watercolored pastels floating at the edge of her perception. The moment was perfect, as if she were in a fairy tale. It was magical. Only real magic was never this beautiful.

She took a deep breath and tried to focus. She was here to learn as much as she could about the gallery, not get all flustered by her “date.” It's all part of the disguise, she told herself. It was time to pay attention and do what she came to do.
Stop
letting
the
pretty
boy
distract
you!

But why the hell did he have to smell so good?

As they moved around the outside of the gallery, Lucifer made note of any security cameras. The cameras shouldn't be a problem, but Lucifer was concerned about visibility from the street. Fortunately, the southeast corner was hidden from both cross streets and would serve as the best place to start.

“Okay, I've seen what I need to see,” Lucifer said. “They should be open now. Let's head inside.”

“Anything in particular we should be looking for?”

“No, but I'll know it when I see it. Let's just go in and enjoy ourselves.”

Lucifer had to admit that the inside of the gallery was quite impressive. She wasn't lying to David when she said she liked to look at beautiful things. And the pieces on display here could keep Lucifer enthralled for days. Sculptures, paintings, photographs, there were even several exhibits of modern art; her favorite piece was a series of identical black cats perfectly arranged in a series of concentric circles, all facing outward with one claw raised.

She loved the gallery. Not only was it beautiful, it was calming. The white walls, the birch wood floors, the ambient lighting, all worked to give the gallery a bright, warm, and minimalist atmosphere. Compared to the clutter and chaos of Lucifer's own life, it was heavenly.

David talked about various paintings and the artists who made them as they moved from exhibit to exhibit. Lucifer found that listening to him was the most enjoyable part of the experience. His voice, along with his knowledge and playful banter all combined like the ingredients of a spell designed to captivate her. She couldn't remember the last time she had this much fun without committing a felony or making a magical baddie squirm.