Death's Hand (11 page)

She glanced at the clock. “We really need to sleep. I have to be out of here before Elise comes over for breakfast.”

“Why? You’re welcome to join us.”

“I don’t think Elise wants company,” she said.

He chuckled. “That’s all right.”

A slow smile formed on Stephanie’s lips. “You’ve never asked me to stay for one of your Sunday breakfasts before.”

“Elise can tolerate company for one morning. I’m sure it will be just fine.”

Elise woke up tangled in blood-stained sheets.

Her first panicked thought was that she had been attacked overnight. She found the dagger under her pillow and gripped it like a teddy bear, staring around for signs of danger.

When nothing jumped out, she finally remembered her visit to the hospital. Dancing at the concert afterward must have been too much for her new wounds, and judging by the condition of her bed, she had been thrashing in her sleep, too.

She peeled back her bandages to examine the injuries. The bruises were already yellowing. Healing faster than the average person meant she would be back to normal by the end of the weekend as long as she took care of herself, but dancing had ripped open her scabs. Her skin was slick with blood.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Elise showered in scalding-hot water, bracing her hands against the wall and letting her head hang between her shoulders. The water coursing down her skin stung her injuries.

Her nightmares were getting vivid again. She used to dream about the dead every night, and it was all returning because of James and his goddamn hero complex. Two fights with fiends were more than enough to get the memories flowing.

But she hadn’t been dreaming of death last night. Instead, she had been remembering the day she woke up in the Russian wilderness with James standing over her like an angel.

She toweled off and rewrapped her injuries. Normally, she would have jogged to Motion and Dance for breakfast with James, but she needed to heal. Instead, she started a pot of coffee for Betty and hopped in her car to drive over.

There were already four other cars in the parking lot when she arrived. Elise’s eyes narrowed. Motion and Dance didn’t have any morning classes on the weekend.

James’s apartment was filled with the smell of pancakes and an entire coven’s worth of witches.

Elise stood in the doorway, staring at everyone intruding on their weekend breakfast. Ann and Morrighan chatted on the couch while Stephanie stared down a griddle covered in batter and sausages as though she had never cooked breakfast in her life.

The doctor was wearing the same clothes as the night before. She must have spent the night.

Elise felt numb as she shucked her jacket. So James and Stephanie were together. How long had that been happening?

“You made it!” Ann said brightly. She was eating a piece of toast smothered in jelly. A spot of butter dotted her chin.

“What are you all doing here?”

“We’re going to visit the Ramirezes today,” Morrighan said. “We’re getting ready. Are you coming?”

Elise fought to suppress her irritation. “No.”

“Why not?” Stephanie asked.

She stared back in silent challenge.

James must have heard the door shut, because he peered out of his bedroom at the end of the hall. He had a phone pressed to his ear. “Elise,” he called. “Could you please come here?”

She stepped into his bedroom. “You didn’t tell me we were going to have company,” Elise muttered. His private space was just as tidy as the rest of his house. He had even arranged Stephanie’s shoes next to his own in the closet. “Who’s on the phone?”

“It’s McIntyre. He wants to speak to you.”

Surprise melted away her anger in an instant. “McIntyre? Seriously?” She took the phone. “This is Elise.”

“Hey there,” he responded. Lucas McIntyre’s voice brought back memories. He was the kopis who covered the Las Vegas territory, and they had done a couple big fights together in the past. Unfortunately, they also kind of hated each other. They parted on unfriendly terms.

“What’s do you need?”

James hovered over her shoulder to listen to their conversation. “The semi-centennial summit is coming,” McIntyre said. “It’s in our state. I thought you would want to know.”

“You’re right. I do.” Every fifty years, the major world powers met to form treaties and settle disputes—the best of the kopes, the greatest demons, and the most powerful angels. Her father had been on the planning board before he left. “But you know I’m still retired.”

“Still?”

“It’s supposed to be permanent.”

“I just never thought you, of all people, could lay down the sword for long.” He chuckled. “I thought if you did give up those things, it would be to upgrade to guns.”

“I don’t like guns. Anyway, the summit is your problem, not mine.”

“Sure, but they’ve taken over Silver Wells. There’s also going be a lot of traffic through the state for the next few months. The travel licenses between Hell and Earth have been sold out and demons are starting to move in.”

Elise and James exchanged glances. “Do you have a list of the summit participants?”

“My friend on the board gave me one. I can email it to you. Long story short, there might be some folk who recognize you. If you want to stay out of trouble, you better be careful.”

Elise massaged her temple. “Great. Thanks.”

“Leticia wants to talk to you. Here you go.”

She talked with McIntyre’s wife for a few minutes. Leticia chatted about Dana, their first child, and the names they were planning for the second one, due around Thanksgiving. That had been one of the reasons Elise and McIntyre fought. She thought it was irresponsible for a kopis to have a family. He thought she was a raging bitch. They were probably both right.

When she couldn’t tolerate any more family gossip, Elise said, “I’m going to get going. Tell Lucas thanks.”

“We’re thrilled to help,” Leticia said. “You haven’t visited us in years. Promise you’ll come down soon so we can catch up?”

“Of course. Talk to you later.” Elise handed James the phone. “I’ll visit them when hell throws us a pizza party. Did you call McIntyre, or did he call you?”

“He called me. He doesn’t have your number anymore.”

“That’s not an accident.”

“You should be glad we have forewarning.”

“I don’t want anything to do with this. You should have told me you were going to have some of the witches over during breakfast.” She barely refrained from remarking on Stephanie’s shoes.

“I hoped you would come with us today.”

“No. I don’t want anyone else knowing I’m a kopis and exorcist. The Ramirezes are bad enough.”

He saw that she was looking at the shoes and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Elise...”

“I’m going to the office to do some work.”

“Are you angry about Stephanie?” She left the room without responding, but he followed. “Won’t you at least eat something before you go?”

Elise grabbed a piece of bacon off a plate on the counter and bit off the end. The witches were all standing in the living room now, and they pretended not to notice that James and Elise were obviously arguing.

“Feel free to call me when you finish if you’re not too busy fucking around,” she said, tearing her sweater off the hook by the door.

She slammed the door shut behind her.

VIII

Even though it was drizzling again, Augustin Ramirez was waiting outside when James and arrived with the coven. The umbrella on his deck’s dining set was folded down. Raindrops rippled in a tall glass of amber liquor.

He lifted his head from his hands when they approached. “What took you so long?” he asked.

Stephanie didn’t bother hiding her severe frown. “We needed to confirm your daughter’s health condition, since you wouldn’t cooperate with us. Where is she now?”

He waved vaguely at the front door of the house.

“Can we go in?” James asked.

Augustin nodded and let his head drop on his folded arms. Ann was the first through the door, hurrying inside as though she was allergic to rain. Morrighan followed, holding her bag of supplies over her head as a makeshift umbrella. James hesitated by the lawyer.

“Has anything changed?”

“Why can’t you people just leave us alone?” Augustin asked without looking up. “We were fine two weeks ago. Lucinde had a ballet recital. She was fine.”

It was hard to get angry when he looked so pathetic. “Hopefully we can leave you alone very soon, Mr. Ramirez,” James said. “This shouldn’t take long. Would you please come inside with us? The weather is only going to get worse.”

Augustin didn’t move.

James went inside to find the other three witches clustered near the front door, huddled together for support. He couldn’t blame them—the house had been miserable when he first visited, but it had gotten worse. The air was freezing. It smelled stale. Every window was closed and the lights were turned off.

And they could hear screaming.

All of them turned to look at the stairs. Something heavy was banged against the floor, and each thud made the wall photos bounce and rattle. One had already fallen off its nail and shattered on the steps.

That noise didn’t sound like it came out of the lungs of a little girl. It didn’t sound like it came from a human at all.

“I’m going to check on Lucinde,” Stephanie said, but she didn’t go for the stairs. Instead, she slid back until she could grab James’s hand with clammy fingers.

A slip of paper on the mantle caught his eye. It was Elise’s business card. James slipped it into his pocket, hoping nobody would notice, but Ann was watching.

“Where’s Marisa?” she asked.

“She’s most likely upstairs with her daughter.” James took a deep breath and straightened his back. “Right. Let’s get this done. Morrighan and Ann, bring out the smudges. I’ll find somewhere to cast the circle.”

His orders were enough to get everyone moving. They broke apart. Stephanie crept upstairs while Morrighan began removing things from her duffle bag. “Think we can open the windows and stuff?” she asked. “Everything in here now is doused with negative energy. It’s horrible.”

“Hold onto that thought. We should speak to Marisa first,” he said.

Stephanie reappeared on the landing almost as soon as she left. “James?”

He joined her upstairs. The air felt heavier in the hallway, like James was moving through thick, murky water. He had to struggle to breathe.

“What’s wrong?”

Stephanie pointed. He peered down the dark hall to see a shadowy form huddled against Lucinde’s door. Marisa.

James knelt beside her. Her eyes were puffy and her nail polish had been chipped off until there were only a few flakes left. She hugged her knees to her chest. “It’s getting worse,” she whispered. He could barely hear her over the screaming and pounding.

“We’re going to cleanse your house of all these negative energies and drive out whatever is hurting your daughter.” He didn’t speak with any conviction. He wished that Elise would have come.

When James moved to stand, she grabbed his arm, holding him in place. “You don’t understand. It’s not supposed to get worse. She’s supposed to get better.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

Marisa’s chin quivered. “She’s going to die.”

“Nobody is going to die. We’re going to open the curtains and windows. All right?”

“No! You can’t do that! You’ll hurt her, and she’s already...” Her chest hitched. “She’s already in so much pain. This isn’t supposed to happen. She’s supposed to get
better
.”

James didn’t realize Stephanie was standing behind him until she spoke. “I should check on your daughter.”

Marisa shook her head. “She’s out of control.”

“I’m used to difficult patients.”

He cut off Stephanie with a slash of his hand. “This isn’t the time. Will you help us with the ritual, Marisa?”

She shook her head. A line of white rimmed her lips.

When they returned to Ann and Morrighan, they were parting the curtains and throwing open the windows. They had already positioned censers in every doorway. The smell of white sage drifted through the air. Lucinde screamed louder.

James did a quick search of the rooms downstairs and decided to cast the circle in the kitchen, where a ring of salt would be the easiest to clean up. It was also positioned directly beneath Lucinde’s room.

He and Stephanie lit candles, laid out stones on each of the cardinal directions, and called the other witches into the kitchen without closing the circle. He handed each of them photocopies of the ritual. “You three should stay down here within the protection of the circle,” he said. “Focus on the incantation.”

“What are you going to do?” Stephanie asked.

“I’m going upstairs.”

Ann paled. “Is that a good idea?”

He didn’t think it was, but James smiled and nodded anyway. “Of course. You can begin the ritual as soon as I’m gone.”

Stephanie sealed the circle behind him. The three women began chanting together. James could have spoken it along with them without glancing at the Book of Shadows—he had written the ritual himself, and they had used it before to great success.