Authors: Michael Alan Nelson
“It doesn't matter, I can find you. I need your help, so don't go anywhere. I'll be over in about half an hour. I'll be in the police car,” Lucifer said.
“Police carâ”
Lucifer hung up and dialed a different number.
“This is Officer Pierce.”
“Buck, it's Lucifer.”
“You're alive! Holy crap, Lucifer. What happened? I've got five officers that could have sworn they saw someone take a gainer off the of top Graeae Towers. There was nothing left but a wet stain on the pavement. I thought it was you.”
“It was the witch-hound,” she said.
“The witch what?”
“It doesn't matter, Buck. I have the book and I know how to get to the Shade. But I'm going to need help. Pick me up in twenty minutes.”
“Butâ”
Lucifer hung up and tossed her phone back into her trick bag. As she headed toward the door, she grabbed an old emergency medical technician's manual from a stack of books she was using to prop up an old table lamp. The stack and the lamp crashed to the floor, but she didn't care. She knew how to save David and Gina, but she was running out of time.
“What the hell is going on, Lucifer?” Buck said when she jumped into his cruiser.
“Drive to 381 Pinewood Drive,” Lucifer said before her door was even closed.
“What's there?” Buck asked, putting the cruiser in drive.
Lucifer double-checked the contents of her trick bag. “A girl named Trish. She's had training as an EMT, now c'mon! Hit the lights, man!” Lucifer shouted as she slapped the dashboard.
A few minutes later, Buck pulled into the driveway, killing the lights and sirens so as not to scare the entire neighborhood. Trish stepped out of her front door, her purple hair pulled back in a ponytail. “You weren't kidding about the cop car, were you? What exactly is going on?” she asked as Lucifer raced toward her.
Lucifer gently grabbed her arm and started pulling her toward the car. “I'll explain on the way.”
Trish looked up at Buck's haggard and imposing frame standing next to his car and said, “Lucifer, uh . . .”
Lucifer held out her hand in introduction. “Trish, this is Officer Pierce. Officer Pierce, Trish. Now that we're all acquainted, let's go!”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No, ma'am, you're not under arrest. Luciferâ”
Lucifer held up her hand, interrupting and said, “Trish, this man's daughter and my . . . er, her boyfriend are going to die unless you come with us.”
“Is that true?” she asked Buck.
Buck gave Lucifer a pained expression that broke her heart before turning to Trish and saying, “Yes.” He waved to the back of his cruiser. “Let's go, ma'am. Now.”
“Wait a second. I can't just leave. And I have no idea who your daughter is.”
“Please,” Buck said again, letting a hint of anger into his voice.
Lucifer helped Trish into the back and sat beside her.
“Will someone please tell me just what is going on here?” Trish asked.
Lucifer ignored her and said, “Head to the clinic on Elm and Braxton.” She then pulled out the EMT manual and a highlighter from her trick bag.
“The clinic,” Trish said. “It's closed. Seriously, what is happening?”
“I'm going to need to know what's going on, too, Lucifer. And I want you to tell me what happened at Graeae Towers. The report said it looked like a bomb went off on one of the upper floors.”
“Somebody's pet got loose. And there are things we need to get from the clinic. When we're done there, we need to hit a gas station and buy every bag of ice they have. Seriously, Buck! Sirens! Lights!” Lucifer shouted as she smacked the back of the seat. She knew her own panic was only going to frighten Buck even more, but she didn't care. She had to hurry. Not only was the moon rising, but her courage was fading fast.
Buck flipped on his lights and siren and stepped on the gas, his tires barking as they struggled for traction on the road.
“Officer,” Trish said, “What's wrong with your daughter and her boyfriend? Are they sick? I want to help, I do, and I have some training as an emergency medical technician, but I'm not a doctor.”
Buck peered in the rearview mirror to look at Lucifer. The man's eyes were wide, bloodshot, with thick black bags underneath. “You said Gina and her boyfriend, Lucifer. What happened to David?”
“He's in the Shade now, too.” Thinking about it made Lucifer's heart ache, and she didn't want to discuss it. Thankfully, Buck didn't either. “Here,” Lucifer said, handing the manual to Trish. “Do you have these things?”
Trish hesitated before taking the manual and looking at what Lucifer had highlighted. “Someone you know have hypothermia?”
Lucifer started a quick web search on her phone. “Do you have them or not?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What about these?” Lucifer asked as she handed Trish her phone.
Trish looked at the screen and said, “Those are some heavy-duty meds, but yeah, we've got that, too.”
“Good. Then there's a chance.”
“A chance to whatâ”
Buck skidded to a halt in front of the clinic. All three were out of the car and heading toward the clinic door when Trish said, “You know I don't have my keys to this place, right?”
Lucifer looked back at Trish. Less than six seconds later she had the alarm disabled and the door open without ever taking her eyes off the girl.
“I'm pretty sure that's illegal,” Trish said.
Buck gently nudged Trish inside the door. “Roll with it,” he said.
Inside, Lucifer asked Trish, “How long to get all this stuff together?”
“I don't know, five, ten minutes?”
“Lucifer,” Buck said. “You told me you had the book and you know how to save Gina. What are we doing here?”
“There are things here we need if I'm going to be able to come back.”
Trish held up the EMT manual and said, “Things like a defibrillator? A heat blanket? Look, I don't know what's going on and I don't want to get in bad with the police. But I would really like to know what you all are talking about. How is this stuff going to help you get back from anywhere? Just exactly what are you going to do?”
Lucifer fixed her with a hard stare.
“I'm going to kill myself.”
CHAPTER 26
The headlights of Buck's cruiser struggled to illuminate the dark and dilapidated walls of the Worcester House. The building sagged and wilted as if they were melting from the heat of the halogen beams.
“What are we waiting for?” Lucifer asked.
“This,” Buck said, and he flipped on his flashing lights. As the blue and red lights flickered across the house, teenagers began pouring from the doors and windows, all in a mad rush to escape arrest. When no more came out, Buck looked back and said, “Clear.”
Lucifer and Trish got out of the backseat. Lucifer said, “Thanks for doing this, Trish.”
“Don't thank me,” Trish said. “I'm only doing this because your friend there threatened to arrest me if I didn't. But if this goes wrong, this will be on you and him, not me. I won't be held accountable if you die.”
“Dying is the point. You're just here to make sure I don't stay dead.”
It took twenty minutes for Lucifer to convince Buck that this was the only way to save Gina and almost another hour for him to convince Trish to help them. If Lucifer wanted to go to the Shade, she was going to have to die. It was the only way to do it without becoming a serial killer. But if Lucifer had to die, she wanted to be able to come back to life. For that, she needed Trish. And, expectedly, Trish wanted nothing to do with them after hearing all the talk of magic and dimensions and dying. It wasn't until Buck threatened to throw her in jail that Trish finally agreed to help.
Lucifer looked up at the full moon, swollen and blinding against the black sky. It would reach its zenith in a couple of hours. Gina and David didn't have much time. David . . .
She shook her head trying to force the thought of him away. It was distracting enough imagining him holding her in his arms, but the thought of David at the mercy of a witch was too much to bear. If she wanted to help him, she couldn't be distracted. She needed to focus.
Buck opened the trunk of his cruiser and pulled out an armful of equipment. The rest of the trunk was filled with bags of ice. Lucifer pulled a flashlight from her trick bag and said, “Follow me.”
The chaotic mess of the house was even more eerie in the dark. Lucifer couldn't imagine why anyone would willingly want to spend time here. Lucifer pointed to a small, claw-foot bathtub amid the cluster of furniture attached to the ceiling. “Buck, I'm going to need that tub.”
The massive cop reached up with his free hand and tore the tub loose as easily as plucking an apple from a tree. Large chunks of the ceiling came down with the tub, and three of the four legs on a tattered lounge chair came loose, leaving the chair to swing like a mildewed pendulum.
Lucifer bounded up the creaky stairs, taking two at a time. At the top of the stairs, she kicked over several half-empty beer cans that the fleeing teenagers left behind in their hurry to get away from Buck's flashing lights. A single cigarette smoldered on top of an ashtray made from an old hubcap. “In here,” she said.
The room was the same as when she had come here with David. Just as before, the squalor of the house didn't find its way past the doorway and into the room. The vanity mirror sat in the middle of the room, reflecting the moonlight shining through the perfectly whole windows.
Lucifer handed the flashlight to Trish. She then started pulling candles from her trick bag and placing them strategically around the room. Buck came in, dragging the bathtub behind him. The tub's claw feet left two long, jagged scars in the wooden floor.
“At least this room doesn't look like a snot pit,” Buck said.
“That's only because of the magic,” Lucifer said. “Now fill the tub with all the ice.” Lucifer grabbed a small crowbar from her trick bag and walked to the corner of the room. “Trish, shine the light over here. I want to show you something.”
Lucifer wedged the small crowbar into the space between the wall and the floor and yanked. One of the narrow floorboards came up, exposing the underfloor six inches beneath it. Clearly visible were the unmistakable markings of intricate gouges in the wood.
“What is that?” Trish asked.
“It's part of a symbol called the Sister's Wheel. If you pulled up all the floorboards you'd see that it's been carved underneath the entire floor. I can't believe I didn't think of that the first time I was here.”
“Wait. So you're trying to tell me all this stuff about witches and whatnot is for real? Like, for real real?” Trish's voice was thick with skepticism.
Lucifer stood and took the flashlight from Trish. She aimed the beam of light at the bathtub and said, “Notice anything?”
“It's the bathtub,” Trish said.
“Buck dragged it into the room.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Look behind it. The scratches on the floor are gone.”
Trish stepped closer to the tub to get a better look. She squinted, then took the flashlight from Lucifer's hand and knelt down. As Trish was feeling the smooth floor, Buck came in with several bags of ice.
“Not only does the Sister's Wheel open a pathway to the Shade, it has a mending element to it as well. That's why the scratches disappeared and why the windows are still intact.” Lucifer placed the rest of the candles around the room. However, their warm glow did little to counteract the cold, harsh moonlight coming in through the window.
“When the Sisters of Witchdown crafted the symbol,” Lucifer said, “they wanted to use it to preserve their bodies and anchor their spirits in the world of the living. That way they could return from the Shade. But, lucky for us, they were destroyed before they could use it.” Lucifer lit the last candle then patted her trick bag. “Unlucky for us, though, they created this book and figured out a way to use it to bring filcher demons into our world. Once someone's possessed by a filcher demon, the witches can command them to do anything they want.”
“Like carve that thing under the floor?” Buck asked.
“Exactly. They just needed to wait until the book fell into the right hands. Which, from the condition of that book, I'd say was a pretty long time. But then Mr. Sinkowicz got greedy and started the ball rolling.”
Buck tore the plastic bags open and dumped the ice in the tub. “But why?” he asked. “Why kidnap anyone? Can't they just come through?”
Lucifer walked over to the tub and started undressing. “Because their bodies have turned to dust by now. If their spirits come to the living world, they'd be trapped here as ghosts with little or no power at all. They created Witchdown to keep their power intact and their spirits safe in the Shade, but what they want more than anything is to come back to the world of the living. In order to do that, they need a body. A living body.”