Embers (38 page)

It was his painting of her, from the night at the gallery.
Ishtar
. A pang of regret lanced through her as she held it up to the light. Seeing herself as she had just been in the mirror minutes ago, the painting seemed part of another world. . . not the bald bare woman standing in her yellow duck-patterned bathrobe.

Katie gave a low whistle. “That’s seriously hot.”

Anya leaned it on the fireplace mantel.

It was a reminder of what she could become, if she allowed it to happen.

Anya sat in the front pew of St. Florian’s, waiting. She’d been waiting all afternoon for the ghost of the priest to appear. She watched the shadows and light play through the stained-glass windows, watched the faithful come and go. Sparky had stretched out his full length along the pew to take a nap, only to get snappish if an unwary parishioner tried to sit on him. More than one person got a nasty chill, stood up, and moved.

Finally, at dusk, the ghost of the priest appeared. As he had in her dream, he walked up the aisle and sat in the front pew. The last of the daylight shone through him and his ghost seemed very thin.

“I want you to know,” she told him, “that I know what happened. That the demon Mimiveh had you.”

The young priest stared down at his hands.
“I should have been stronger.”

“So should I. But she took me over, just the same.” Anya leaned forward, her fingers playing with the fringe at the edge of the scarf she’d wrapped around her head. Her hair was pixie short, but the air felt cool enough on the back of her neck to make her want to cover it up. “And I also want you to know that Mimiveh has been destroyed.”

The priest smiled. The last of the sun shone through him, and his ghost vanished. Anya reached out, and felt no whisper of him, no chill or hint of his presence.

This had been the first time that Anya had dispelled a ghost without devouring it. She savored the sensation as she walked from the church, out into the sharp November evening.

Brian was waiting for her on the church steps. He had always been waiting for her, and she had never appreciated it much, before. But now. . . She reached out and linked her hand in his arm. “Hey, Captain Cue Ball.”

“Hello, Bald Stuff.” They were having a contest to see who could grow hair back the fastest. So far, Brian was winning. His reached the tops of his ears. “I got you something,” he said. He handed her a plastic bag. “Well, it’s actually something for Sparky.”

She opened it to find a glittery nightlight inside with a fairy on it. “He’s going to love it.”

“I thought that it might work with your new décor.”

Katie had helped Anya paint a stylized circle on the bedroom floor around the bed. It was very decorative. . . and Anya hoped to make use of it to Ferberize Sparky, as necessary. She hoped to get to use it, anyway.

She leaned up to kiss Brian on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Are we still going to that benefit thingy? For the Motor City Phoenix Foundation?”

Drake Ferrer’s second disappearance had caused something of a stir in the art world, especially after his comeback showing. The newspapers had not let it go and some of the deep pockets in town still seemed to be willing to fund the project. With the discovery of the new art in his studio, it seemed that the charity auction would bring a good turnout.

“Yup,” Anya said. “I’ve just got to go home and change.” She thought about the little black corset dress in her closet. Even though she no longer had long hair, she wondered if she could rock it enough to get some good use out of the magick circle in her bedroom.

She looked up at the darkening sky, at the stars beginning to peek out of the firmament.

“Hey,” she asked suddenly. “Do you know where Draco is? Can we see it from here?”

Brian stared up at the sky. He reached up, and her gaze followed his pointing finger. “See those four stars in the west, low on the horizon? That’s his head. His tail arches up and around. . . he winds around the North Star, between the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. Draco is one of the constellations that doesn’t set in this hemisphere.”

“I see him,” she said, her breath frosting the air, feeling very small under the dragon strewn against the blackness. She imagined Sirrush sleeping in the white underground, guarded by Drake’s spirit. What was the old magickal saying? “As above, so below. . .”

They walked into the dim evening, and Anya smiled at the city. Her city to guard. Though the city didn’t know it, it had been given a second chance. And she would help make sure that they made the most of it.