Every Which Way But Dead

My thoughts touched on the horrific crime scene I had contaminated last fall while trying to pin the murders of Cincinnati’s best ley line witches on Trent Kalamack. Al had slaughtered them in Piscary’s name. Each of them had died in pain for its enjoyment. Al was a sadist, no matter how good the demon looked.

“Yes, let’s get on with it,” it said as it took a tin of a black dust that smelled like Brimstone and inhaled a pinch deeply. It rubbed its nose and moved to poke at my circle with a boot, making me wince. “Nice and tight. But it’s cold. Ceri likes it warm.”

Ceri? I wondered as all the snow within the circle melted in a flash of condensation. The scent of wet pavement rose strong, then vanished as the cement dried to a pale red.

“Ceri,” Algaliarept said, its voice shocking me in its soft tone, both coaxing and demanding. “Come.”

I stared when a woman stepped from behind Algaliarept, seemingly from nowhere. She was thin, her heart-shaped face sallow and her cheekbones showing too strongly. Standing substantially shorter than I, she had a diminutive, almost childlike mien. Her head was down, and her pale translucent hair hung straight to her mid-back. She was dressed in a beautiful gown that dropped to her bare feet. It was exquisite—lush silk dyed in rich purples, greens, and golds—and it fitted her curvaceous form like it had been painted on. Though she was small, she was well-proportioned, if perhaps a shade fragile looking.

“Ceri,” Algaliarept said, putting a white-gloved hand to tilt her head up. Her eyes were green, wide, and empty. “What did I tell you about going barefoot?”

A glimmer of annoyance crossed her face, far away and distant behind the numb state she was in. My attention dropped as a matching pair of embroidered slippers materialized about her feet.

“That’s better.” Algaliarept turned from her, and I was struck by the picture of the perfect couple they made in their finery. She was beautiful in her clothes, but her mind was as empty as she was lovely, insane from the raw magic the demon forced her to hold for it, filtering the ley line power through her mind to keep itself safe. Dread twisted in my gut.

“Don’t kill her,” I whispered, my mouth dry. “You’re done with her. Let her live.”

Algaliarept pulled its smoked glasses down to look over them, its red orbs fixing on me. “You like her?” it said. “She is pretty, isn’t she? Over a thousand years old, and aged not a moment since the day I took her soul. If I were honest, she’s the reason I was invited to most of the parties. She puts out without a fuss. Though, of course, for the first hundred years it was all tears and wailing. Fun in itself, but it does get old. You’ll fight me, won’t you?”

My jaw clenched. “Give her back her soul, now that you’re done with her.”

Algaliarept laughed. “Oh, you are a love!” it said, clapping its white-gloved hands once. “But I’m giving that back to her anyway. I’ve sullied it beyond redemption, leaving mine reasonably pure. And I will kill her before she has the chance to beg forgiveness from her god.” Its thick lips split in a nasty grin. “It’s all a lie, anyway, you know.”

I went cold as the woman slumped into a small spot of purple, green, and gold at its feet, broken. I would die before letting it drag me into the ever-after to become … become this. “Bastard,” I whispered.

Algaliarept gestured as if to say, “So what?” It turned to Ceri, finding her small hand in the mass of fabric and helping her rise. She was barefoot again. “Ceri,” the demon coaxed, then glanced at me. “I should have replaced her forty years ago, but the Turn made everything difficult. She doesn’t even hear anymore unless you say her name first.” It turned back to the woman. “Ceri, be a love and fetch the transfer media you made this sundown.”

My stomach hurt. “I made some,” I said, and Ceri blinked, the first sign of comprehension crossing her. Big eyes solemn and blank, she looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. Her attention went to the spell pot at my feet and the milky green candles about us. Panic stirred in the back of her eyes as she stood before the angel monument. I think she had just realized what was going on.

“Marvelous,” Algaliarept said. “You’re trying to be useful already, but I want Ceri’s.” It looked at Ceri, her mouth open to show tiny white teeth. “Yes, love. Time for your retirement. Bring me my cauldron and the transfer media.”

Tense and shirking, Ceri made a gesture and a child-sized cauldron made of copper thicker than my wrist appeared between us, already filled with amber liquid, the flecks of wild geranium suspended as if it were a gel.

The scent of ozone rose high as it grew warmer, and I unzipped my coat. Algaliarept was humming, clearly in a grand mood. It beckoned me closer, and I took a step, fingering the silver knife tucked in my sleeve. My pulse quickened, and I wondered if my contract would be enough to save me. A knife wasn’t going to be much help.

The demon grinned to show me flat, even teeth as it gestured to Ceri. “My mirror,” it prompted, and the delicate woman bent to retrieve a scrying mirror that hadn’t been there a moment ago. She held it before Algaliarept like a table.

I swallowed, remembering the foul sensation of pushing my aura off of me and into my scrying mirror last fall. The demon took off its gloves, one by one, and placed its ruddy, thick-knuckled hands atop the glass, long fingers spread wide. It shuddered and closed its eyes while its aura precipitated out into the mirror, falling from its hands like ink to swirl and pool in its reflection. “Into the medium, Ceri, love. Hurry now.”

She was almost panting as she carried the mirror holding Algaliarept’s aura to the cauldron. It wasn’t the weight of the glass; it was the weight of what was happening. I imagine she was reliving the night she had stood where I was now, watching her predecessor as I watched her. She must have known what was going to happen, but was so deadened inside that she could only do what was expected. And by her obvious, helpless panic, I knew that something was left in her worth saving.

“Free her,” I said, hunched in my ugly coat as my attention flicked from Ceri to the cauldron, and then to Algaliarept. “Free her first.”

“Why?” It looked idly at its nails before putting the gloves back on.

“I’ll kill you before I let you drag me into the ever-after, and I want her free first.”

Algaliarept laughed at that, long and deep. Putting a hand against the angel, the demon bent almost double. A muted thump reverberated up through my feet, and the stone base cracked with the sound of a gunshot. Ceri stared, her pale lips slack and her eyes moving rapidly over me. Things seemed to be starting to work in her, memories and thoughts long suppressed.

“You will struggle,” Algaliarept said, delighted. “Stupendous. I so hoped you would.” Its eyes met mine, and it smirked, touching the rim of its glasses. “Adsimulo calefacio.”

The knife in my sleeve burst into flame. Yelping, I shrugged out of my coat. It hit the edge of my bubble and slid down. The demon eyed me. “Rachel Mariana Morgan. Stop trying my patience. Get over here and recite the damned invocation.”

I had no choice. If I didn’t, it would call my deal breached, take my soul in forfeit, and drag me into the ever-after. My only chance was to play the agreement out. I glanced at Ceri, wishing she would move away from Algaliarept, but she was running her fingers over the dates engraved in the cracked tombstone, her sun-starved complexion now even paler.

“Do you remember the curse?” Algaliarept asked when I came even with the knee-high cauldron.

I snuck a glance in, not surprised to find the demon’s aura was black. I nodded, feeling faint as my thoughts went back to having accidentally made Nick my familiar. Was it only three months ago? “I can say it in English,” I whispered. Nick. Oh God. I hadn’t said good-bye. He had been so distant lately that I hadn’t found the courage to tell him. I hadn’t told anyone.

“Good enough.” Its glasses vanished and its damned, goat-slitted eyes fixed on me. My heart raced, but I had made this choice. I would live or die by it.

Deep and resonate, seeming to vibrate my very core, Al-galiarept’s voice slipped from between its lips. It was Latin, the words familiar, yet not, like a vision of a dream. “Pars tibi, totum mihi. Vinctus vinculis, prece factis.”

“Some to you,” I echoed in English, interpreting the words from memory, “but all to me. Bound by ties made so by plea.”

The demon’s smile widened, chilling me with its confidence. “Luna servata, lux sanata. Chaos statutum, pejus minutum.”

I swallowed hard. “Moon made safe, ancient light made sane,” I whispered. “Chaos decreed, taken tripped if bane.”

Algaliarept’s knuckles gripping the vat went white in anticipation. “Mentem tegens, malum ferens. Semper servus dum duret mundus,” it said, and Ceri sobbed, a small kitten sound, quickly stifled. “Go on,” Algaliarept prompted, excitement making its outline blur. “Say it and put your hands in.”

I hesitated, my eyes fixing on Ceri’s crumpled form before the gravestone, her gown a small puddle of color. “Absolve me of one of my debts I owe you, first.”

“You are a pushy bitch, Rachel Mariana Morgan.”

“Do it!” I demanded. “You said you would. Take off one of your marks as agreed.”

It leaned over the pot until I could see my reflection, wide-eyed and frightened, in its glasses. “It makes no difference. Finish the curse and be done with it.”

“Are you saying you aren’t going to hold to our bargain?” I goaded, and it laughed.

“No. Not at all, and if you were hoping to break our arrangement on that, then you’re sadly the fool. I’ll take off one of my marks, but you still owe me a favor.” It licked its lips. “And as my familiar, you belong—to me.”

A nauseating mix of dread and relief shook my knees, and I held my breath so I wouldn’t get sick. But I had to fulfill my end of the bargain completely before I would see if my beliefs were right and I could slip the demon’s snare by a small point called choice.

“Lee of mind,” I said, trembling, “bearer of pain. Slave until the worlds are slain.”

Algaliarept made a satisfied sound. Jaw gritted, I plunged my hands into the cauldron. Cold struck through me, burning them numb. I yanked my hands out. Horrified, I stared at them, seeing no change in my red-enameled fingertips.

And then Algaliarept’s aura seeped farther into me, touching my chi.

My eyes seemed to bulge in agony. I took a huge breath to scream but couldn’t let it out. I caught a glimpse of Ceri, her eyes pinched in memory. Across the cauldron, Algaliarept was grinning. Gagging, I struggled to breathe as the air seemed to turn to oil. I fell to my hands and knees, bruising them on the concrete. Hair falling to hide my face, I tried to keep from retching. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think!

The demon’s aura was a wet blanket, dripping with acid, smothering me. It coated me, inside and out, and my strength was surrounded by its power. It squeezed my will to nothing. I heard my heart beat once, then again. I took a shuddering breath, swallowing back the sharp tang of vomit. I was going to live. Its aura alone couldn’t kill me. I could do this. I could.

Shaking, I looked up while the shock lessened to something I could deal with. The cauldron was gone, and Ceri was huddled almost behind the huge grave marker beside Algaliarept. I took a breath, unable to taste the air through the demon’s aura. I moved, unable to feel the rough concrete scraping my fingertips. Everything was numb. Everything was muted, as if through cotton.

Everything except the power of the nearby ley line. I could feel it humming thirty yards away as if it were a high-tension power line. Panting, I staggered to my feet, shocked to realize I could see it. I could see everything as if I was using my second sight—which I wasn’t. My stomach roiled as I saw that my circle, once tinged with a shading of cheerful gold from my aura, was now coated in black.