Last Breath (18 page)

“They’re cute. Are they all from Gran?” Athena shook her head. “Got any idea what they’re for?”

“Decoration?” Essie was a witch, so there was a remote chance the figurines could be intended for magical purposes. Or they were just ornaments. Maybe she was spending way too much time on eBay. Shrugging, I went into the kitchen to grab my sister a drink.

“So, I’ve got some news.” Athena shot me a mischievous grin. “We didn’t want to jinx things, so Pietrus and I haven’t said anything about it yet, but we have a baby.”

I squealed, leaving the sodas I’d pulled from the fridge on the counter and running to hug my sister. And then wincing as she hugged me in return, my fresh scabs from my injuries pulling all along my back.

Athena and her husband had been trying unsuccessfully to get pregnant since their wedding. Adoption was unusual for Templar families, but we’d all supported their choice when the pair had made the announcement two years ago that they had filled out an application.

“Name? Son? Daughter? Does he look like his papa?” I teased.

“She’s six months old and we’re calling her Jet. Pietrus and I fly to Seoul next week to meet her and hopefully bring her home.”

I cried. Tough girl me broke down and actually sobbed on my sister’s shoulder. She did the same and by the time we pulled away from each other we were a soggy mess. “I’m so happy for you both,” I told her, wiping my eyes.

She reached out a hand to cup my cheek. It was an unusual display of affection for our reserved family. “I hope one day
you
are so blessed.”

I laughed. “Might need to find myself a husband first, unless you think Mom and Dad will be okay with the whole unwed mother thing.”

Athena snorted. “Well, you make a darned good Auntie in the meantime.”

There was that. I handed her one of the sodas and raised mine. “To baby Jet, may her parents not kill Auntie Aria for spoiling her rotten.”

“Here, here.” Athena took a sip, then folded her arms across her chest. “So what’s the plan with this demon? I’ve never hunted one down before. Do we need a ’67 Impala?”

Soda nearly came from my nose at her joke. This
would
be new to her, though. Templars didn’t hunt down demons. We hadn’t hunted down much of anything in centuries. Hundreds of years ago we banished any evil that crossed our paths, threatened our pilgrims, or tried to attack the Temple. Otherwise we pretty much ignored it. I knew what the elders’ opinions of this endeavor would be. Foolish humans called the infernal forces to their side and suffered the consequences. They’d counsel we leave the demon for Haul Du to handle. That’s how humans learned the lessons of hubris. If we jumped in and saved the day all the time, then there would be no need for personal responsibility. The elders wouldn’t lose any sleep about innocent deaths. God would protect the innocent.

I didn’t agree with that kind of thinking. And the fact that Athena was by my side meant she must feel the same. I doubted the novelty of demon banishment or the ties of our familial bond were the only reason she’d rushed out early on her symposium.

“We’re going to summon the demon. We’ve got his name and his sigil. I’ve got a copy of the original summoning that ties him to this world.”

Athena again made a circuit around the circle, eyeing the symbols. “Seriously? You can do that? I know you were messing around with Goetic demons last year with the group in DC, but Innyhal is a completely different class.”

“Which is why we need to summon him. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have time to go driving all over Maryland and DC looking for Innyhal, even if we did have a sweet ride of an Impala.” Summoning wasn’t just for bringing demons over from hell, it was also for bringing them to heel and holding them in place while you sent them home.

Athena pursed her lips. “Banishing is easier the Templar way.”

Yeah, when it actually worked. “Well, I’ll summon him here, then you can banish him the Templar way. Sound good?”

My sister grinned, looking far younger than her thirty-five years. “Only if you show me how to do this summoning thing. Just for research, you know. It’s always good to know how these things work in case I’m on call when the Temple comes under attack.”

The Temple hadn’t come under attack in over eight hundred years, but I understood the need for preparedness. There was stuff hidden away there that should never see the light of day.

“Deal.”

I got out the chalk and got to work. The portions of the magical space that were universal to all spells I’d done in paint, but chalk would make up the specifics for today’s work. The benefit was that it would be easy to clean off with a wet sponge when done. The drawback was that it was oh-so-easy to smudge, and chalk didn’t provide quite the clean lines that paint did. Such tradeoffs in magic were commonplace.

Athena followed me, making thoughtful noises but otherwise respectful of my need to concentrate. Done, I stepped back and flexed my cramped hands. “Showtime!”

We pulled our swords, but I set mine on the kitchen table because I needed both hands free to summon. I’d copied down the relevant parts of Benton and Alban’s ritual because trying to read from grainy cell-phone photos during a summoning was a good way to get killed. They’d preferred their rituals in weird, mangled Latin, which had never been my strong suit and wasn’t the language I used when performing magic. It was important for me to tie as much of this as I could to the original summoning, so mangled Latin it was. Hopefully my failing marks in the ancient language wouldn’t end up causing my death today.

Paper in hand, I poured a glass of cheap wine and put both the bottle and the glass just inside the inner circle. Then I dimmed the lights and pulled the shades before lighting the candles. Slowly I moved from quarter to quarter, calling for the energy, spooling it into the confines of the circle and locking in the protective space. I was extra careful, worried about a repeat performance of what happened the last time I’d summoned.

The candlelight danced against the walls. It gave the room a romantic ambiance, even for noon in August. For a brief moment I’d wished I was enjoying the cheap wine with a male companion rather than summoning a demon.

“Ready.” Athena held her sword less as a weapon and more as a religious object. It was a wise move given that she didn’t have the magical enhancements on her sword like I did. For Templars, their sword was a weapon of steel as well as one of faith. Maybe I was lacking a bit in the faith department because I’d added magic into the mix.

I got right down to business with the evocation. Evocation because I was commanding an appearance rather than politely requesting one. Hence the floor covered with symbols and geometric shapes. Normally I’d never consider summoning a demon at noon, but we weren’t really moving one across the planes, simply calling one from wherever the heck he’d gone into my apartment.

“Innyhal.
Iam non dico vos mihi
.” I picked up my sword, putting the force of my will into each word. A breeze blew through the room, stirring the curtains and flickering the candle flames.

“
Apparebis in conspectus meo et praecepta meo quae praecepero summonds
.” The wind picked up speed, swirling like a lazy cyclone. Suddenly the ambient light from outside dimmed, plunging the room into a darkness relieved only by the candles. Athena stood opposite me, lit from below like a warrior from a horror movie.

“
Veni
, Innyhal.
Veni. Ego praecipio vobis
.”

The wind on the outside of the circle died abruptly, leaving an eerie silence and a near vacuum. Now the candles flickered outward, pushed by the energies held tightly within the summoning triangle. A column of smoke rose, blocking my view of Athena. I heard the sound of our breathing, like an oncoming train compared to the quiet around me.

The smoke coalesced into a bipedal shape–a shape with a snouted head and a flowing mane. Gigantic birdlike legs formed, like the lower half of an ostrich had been attached to a human torso. I took a breath and looked into the four eyes of Innyhal.

The scar on my side ached. Now was not the time for that to act up, so I clenched my teeth and tightened my grip on my sword.

“Bitch. I should have killed you when I had my claws in you.”

Yeah, why hadn’t he? I wasn’t sure I wanted Athena to hear the answer, I wasn’t sure
I
wanted to hear the answer, so I kept that question silent.

“The two humans who brought you here from hell, what task did they want you to accomplish? What did you need to do before they would return you to hell?”

His snout widened into a toothy grin. “What I do best, girl. Kill.”

Duh. I figured that. “And who did they want you to kill?” Who? Whom? I wasn’t sure if appropriate grammar mattered in this instance or not.

He shrugged, a peculiar movement for a man with a lion head. “They had a list. We didn’t get that far.”

I’d taken a photo of the list. Tremelay and Zrubek were already working on those connections. I was simply relieved that if the worst happened and we didn’t manage to banish this demon, he wasn’t planning on continuing with the organized hit he’d been brought over to do.

Of course, that meant he would just go around killing whoever struck his fancy. Still not a good plan. “Why did they want those people dead?”

It was a long shot. Even with the bizarre head and four eyes, I could read the look of incredulity on Innyhal’s face. “Because they did, that’s why. I don’t concern myself with petty human emotions. Silly creatures needing a reason to end another’s life when the sheer joy of slicing humans into little strips is the only reason necessary.”

He was lying. Don’t ask me how I knew. It’s not like I’m used to reading the facial expressions of lions or anything.

“I demand you, held in my circle under my command, answer me truthfully. Why did the mages want those humans to die?”

The demon shook his head, like I’d just zapped him with static shock on his giant furry ruff. “They killed some friends of theirs. Doesn’t matter though because Mansi wants them dead, too. They take souls. They take that which is ours.”

I caught my breath. Who had Fiore Noir killed that were friends with Tempest and Oak? And who was Mansi? Across from me Athena raised her eyebrows and mouthed “
Souls
?”

They take that which is ours
. Maybe working soul magic put a giant crosshair on your chest when it came to demons. I know I had a dangerous creature testing the power of my circle, but my intellectual curiosity had kicked in.

“So all those who practice sacrificial magic are enemies of the demons?”

He hesitated, four eyes narrowing. “Humans kill humans. It’s truly a beautiful thing, but souls belong to us. Souls are not for the humans to take.”

I remembered the dog bones keeping the psychopomps from Bethany. They’d used her soul, not just her death, to power their spell. Evidently that sort of thing pissed off demons, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Don’t you all take the soul when the deal is struck? When the human sells it to you?” Did they object to the practice in general, or were there demon-claimed souls still in bodies that were being stolen? What was going on here?

“Aria,” Athena interrupted in a whisper. “Can we stop talking and start banishing?”

No. Because I wasn’t done with Innyhal yet. “How do you keep track of your humans if you don’t at least take part of their souls during your deal?”

I didn’t get it. A human who’d sold his soul would be of no use in death magic beyond the energy his actual murder created. No amount of dog bones would have helped hold fast a soul that was already gone.

Innyhal approached the edge of the circle, runes lighting and sizzling as he ran a claw along them. “Rotted meat is far sweeter than fresh from the kill. Sometimes we want a soul to stew in the actions of its vessel before feasting. We leave an owned soul occasionally so it is at its peak when it comes time for us to dine.”

Gah, I hated demons. Rotted food metaphors were probably all I was going to get out of this one. Athena was right, it was past time to send Innyhal home.

“
Mali spiritus mandabo ne redirect ab orbe nostro navibus expellas rursus convocari
.”

Innyhal paced the confines of the circle as I spoke. Athena held her sword aloft, ready to banish this demon the Templar way if the ritual Oak and Tempest had written didn’t work.

The demon paused, staring directly at Athena. My sister didn’t even waver, her gaze steady as she made eye contact with Innyhal. He smiled that lion smile and I was the one who wavered. Why was he smiling?

“
Vade et amplius iam
. Go now.”

He didn’t “go now.” He just continued to smile and reached one of his long, pointy dagger claws through the line of protective symbols. Suddenly I realized my mistake. I’d needed to replicate Tempest and Oak’s summoning circle in order to call Innyhal here—the very summoning circle that had failed to hold the demon the last time it had been used.

“Athena!” I jumped, crashing through the chalk lines past Innyhal to leap on my sister. The flickering symbols stung my skin like an electric shock as I passed through. Athena and I hit the ground, both of our swords clattering from our hands. She gasped, the air knocked from her lungs. I gasped too, but from the scorch of fire across my already injured back. I frantically ripped off my shirt, feeling the scabs peel along with the strips of cloth.

Flinging the burned shirt aside, I reached for my fallen sword only to see it slide away from my hand.

“I don’t care
who
has marked you, you’ll die for this, Templar.”

I crawled for the sword. “
T’voghnel anmijapes
.”

It was a desperate attempt, the only card I had to play right now. The banishment didn’t work this time either. Innyhal laughed at my effort and grabbed my hair, yanking me into the circle. This time the symbols didn’t sting, the circle already having been broken. What
did
hurt was the demon’s hand twisting my hair and his claws scratching my bare stomach.

“
T’voghnel anmijapes
.”

The claws left my waist at Athena’s words but the demon still kept his grip on my hair. I heard the clang of a sword, heard my sister’s shriek. I swung out a foot in a blind attempt to kick the demon. It wouldn’t do much good, but I couldn’t just let this demon play crack-the-whip with my hair, or let him kill both my sister and me.