No Rest for the Wicca (4 page)

He lashed out, backhanded her so hard her head bounced against the marble slab. “Silence.” He raised his eyes upward. “Another point in the star. Pain as well as pleasure. For the greater good.
Mawinba.
”

The knife slashed down, sending splotches of red in circular patterns against the wall. The woman’s screams faded into silence as the life drained out of her. Fingers opened her lifeless lips, slashed again.

The figure stood back a moment, regarding its handiwork. It wiped the blade on the edge of its sleeve, turned on its heel, and left the chamber.

“Woo-hoo, Morgan? What’s the special occasion?”

Shift change was in full swing the next morning when I arrived at Headquarters. My alarm had failed to ring on time, what else was new? I’d dressed as quickly as I could and slipped out. Xia was still asleep. I’d hoped to make it to Gilley’s office without incident, but I hadn’t counted on Leo Petrie working a double shift. I’d never gotten along with the bull-faced patrolman, whose IQ matched that of a gnat, in my humble opinion. He ogled me with something between a leer and a grin etched on his thin, pinched face, making me sorry I’d worn my good suit.

“No special occasion,” I attempted to push past him but he sidestepped me, effectively blocking my path. “Why, don’t I always come to work like this?”

His gaze swept me up and down, from the tips of my high heels to the comb holding my bangs in place. He pursed his lips and gave a low whistle. “Honestly…no. You usually dress like a gravedigger about to start in on a fresh hole. So, I repeat…what’s the occasion?”

I moistened my lips, leaned in closer. I got a whiff of garlic and decided Leo must have had spaghetti for dinner last night. Brushing teeth and gargling, apparently, wasn’t one of his morning ablutions. “Nothing special. Just an appointment with Gilley.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Ooh, an appointment, you say. With the chief? What’s up, Hawkes?” He leaned closer. “You doin’ him?” he hissed in my ear.

The hiss turned into a squeal as I grabbed his wrist and bent it backward.

“Listen, you oversexed sack of shit,” I whispered. “Keep your dirty suggestions to yourself. What business I have with the Chief is none of yours, got it?”

“Who died and left you in charge?” he shot back. He squealed like a stuck pig as I applied more pressure to his wrist. All in all, Petrie had about twenty pounds on me, but I had the element of surprise on my side.

“It sure wasn’t you, asshole.” I released him and flung him back. He banged against the wall and stood for a minute, rubbing his wrist.

“Yeah, well, we all know who died, don’t we?” he shouted at my back. I froze in mid-step, turned slowly. My lips quirked slightly as his face paled. He took two quick steps backward.

“Yeah, we all know,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. I closed the distance between us with two long strides and the next instant I had him in a hammerlock, my arm around his throat. “So I’d like it…really like it…if you didn’t mention it again.”

“Okay,” he squeaked. I released him again and he half-backed, half-ran, down the corridor in the opposite direction. “Touchy today, ain’t we?” he flung over his shoulder.

Damn you. “You just can’t resist being an asshole, can you?” I started after him, stopped as I felt pressure on my arm. I looked into Danny’s blue eyes and sighed.

“He really needs a good whipping,” I muttered.

“I’m sure you’d prove more than a match for him, and quite frankly it’s an event most of us would pay to watch, but....” He released my arm and grinned at me. “Some people are just assholes. You can’t fight all of them.”

I tugged at the lapels of my jacket and smoothed it over my hips.  “Wanna bet?” I muttered.

“Hell, no.  I lost the last one, remember?”

I let a smile touch the corners of my lips.  “Hell yeah.  And you still owe me, as I recall.  So—“  I moistened my lips, “Gilley’s not too upset, is he?  I mean, I know I’m late…”

“I called your house, but your cousin said you’d already left. And you still didn’t get a battery for your cell, did you?”

I flushed guiltily.  “No.  What’s up?”

“Your appointment’s been rescheduled to two this afternoon.  The person you’re meeting with apparently had a full morning.”

“Oh.”  I let out the breath I’d been holding.  “Well, that frees me up.  Anything on the roster?”

“As a matter of fact…” he whipped a sheet of paper from his pocket.  “This call just came in.  There’s a slight disturbance out in the
Hammond
section. Iglatz daemon sighting.  Up for it?”

I snatched the paper from Danny’s hand as I cantered back down the hall.  “Hell, why not?  Tell Gilley I’ll see him at two.”

***

Hammond
was at the south end of Central City, in a section often regarded as the “seedy” side of town.  It was ruled by rogue weres, vamps, and yes, daemons.  Most of the dilapidated houses at one time belonged to the various supernaturals before they’d gone onto meet their Maker.  There was a small part of it, however, at the very tip just before it morphed into rundown buildings and dark corners, where some respectable yet poor families of mortals resided.  Their part of town was usually protected from the rogues that might choose to invade it by an ancient gypsy challa, or spell.  Some at that very tip, though, were sometimes vulnerable to some daemons who were not only former residents, but impeneterable to gypsy curses and sometimes liked to wreak havoc with poor, unsuspecting mortals.  This was one of those times.

I parked my convertible in front of a low, stucco house that would have definitely passed as an upper-middle class residence in any other Central City district.  There was a small crowd of people gathered near the stoop, and I made my way to them, pulling out my badge as I approached.

“PSI,” I said as I scanned the group.  “What’s up?  We’ve got a report of an Iglatz daemon?”

One woman, dirty and unkempt with ratty, carrot-colored hair, pushed forward. Two equally ratty youngsters, a boy and a girl, clung to her faded skirt.  She pressed them closer to her as she answered, “Aye.  It’s my house he’s in. Said it’s his, and he wants it back.”

I tried to give her a reassuring smile.  “It’s not an uncommon practice,” I said.  “Especially with Iglatz.  They’re quite pushy.”

She rolled her eyes at me.  “Tell me about it!  Been threatening for a week, and just this morning his force broke through.  Now he’s taken up residence in the basement.  Says it’s his, and we all have to get out.”  Her face mirrored fear.  “Missy, we’ve  nowhere else to go. That’s our home.”  Tears started to form in her wide eyes.  “What’ll I do—how can I take care of my children?  Everything we have in the world is in that house.”

I looked into the little urchin’s faces and my heart went out to them.  I reached out, touched the girl’s face, patted the little boy’s shoulder and then turned to the mother.

“It’ll be fine. Just, no matter what you might hear, don’t go back inside until I tell you to.  Please, stay out here.”  Then I squared my shoulders and went inside.

Inside I found the door leading to the basement and descended the rickety stairs slowly. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see nothing, but I distinctly felt another presence in the dank area with me.  “Hello?” I called.  “Is there an energy here?  Speak?”

No answer, but out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of shadow and quickly turned in that direction.  I felt the barest hint of dark energy.  Male.  Evil.

“Who’s here?” I called again.  “Speak.”

It came at me, a low rumble, barely discernable
. 
Leave, bitch.  This is my territory
.

I took a deep breath and reached out with my energy.  A jolt seared through me and I staggered backward, caught momentarily off guard.  Something rammed my chest with such force that I flew backward against the wall, head snapping off to the side as I struck and slumped down.

You don’t listen very well, do you?  This is my territory.  My ancestors founded this gateway.  Those humans have no right to live in my space
.

I clawed my way to my feet.  “Oh, quite the opposite.  They have every right. 
Hammond
is their district, now, and you belong in another plane.  Let me help you get back there.”

No, you are wrong.  I belong here.

I was getting nowhere fast.  I glanced at my watch.  I had to be back at headquarters in less than two hours.  What I had thought would be a simple exorcism was quickly turning into a full-blown event.

A whoosh of fetid air caressed my cheek. 
Whassamatta, gotta hot date?

I glared in the direction of the energy.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  So, why don’t you be cooperative and let me return you to the next plane?

I said NO.

I was getting really agitated now.  “Listen, daemon.  Do you have a name?”

Refeld.

“Okay, Refeld, this is getting a little old now.  If you don’t start cooperating now I’m going to have to use force.”

Go ahead. 
Die trying
.

Those were definitely fighting words.  I reached out with my energy again, and this time the returning blast picked me off my feet, then sent me sailing across the room, landing on the opposite side with a resounding thwack!  My head lolled on my neck, and I felt the room swim as another blast of the Ignatz daemon’s energy came at me again, washing over me, causing white-hot heat to explode in my brain and little pinpricks of light to dance before my eyes.

Had enough yet?

I picked myself up slowly.  “Too bad for you, I’ve a thick skull.  Now be a good little boy, and return to the Netherrealm from whence…”

Another searing blast of energy sent me spinning round and round like a top.

You don’t understand, do you?  I’m not returning anywhere.  This is my ancestral home, and I mean to reclaim it!

Once the room stopped going round and round, I bit my lip.  This could go on for hours.  The daemon was particularly strong, plus he was on his own turf.  This wasn’t a case of sending him back through a portal, oh, no.  This guy meant what he said alright.  He was out to regain his territory no matter what the cost.

He’d have to be destroyed.

Too late, I realized his energy could seep into my thoughts.  I felt the basement shake as the daemon rocked with laughter.

Foolish Wiccan bitch.  There’s a method you can use to defeat me, but you can’t use it, can you?

The breath, hot against my ear, trickled down my spine. 

I know who you are.  I know you won’t use your skills against me.  You can’t
.

I fumbled in the little pouch I carried on my belt, and drew forth a silver ason.

Was that your father’s?

I lifted it high above my head, and it startled me to see my hand shaking as I said, “This is mine, Refeld.  Now will you enter the next plane or not?”

NO.

“You leave me no choice, then.”  I moved the ason in a circle.  “Ehabi, minawara..”

The voice crashed through my brain, a seductive purr.

Such an amateur chant won’t work on a daemon of my power, foolish one.  You need the one you used last time, but
y
ou won’t use that.  You remember what happened
when you did.

Images cascaded through my mind’s eye.  The laboratory.  April and I, gangbusting through into the secret
bagi.
   And the man, high on a platform, wild-eyed, laughing maniacally at us.

Gris-gris?  Go ahead, Morgan, give it your best shot.  I warn you, you’ll be sorry.

I backed up against the wall, my throat tight, my eyes burning as I relived that day over again.  April and I, smack in the middle of a group of creatures that moved with dead, unseeing eyes…my hand coming up, clutching the small leather bag, the voudou chant upon my lips, and then…

“He turned it against me,” I whispered.  “He used his own charm to turn my magic from him and onto…onto her.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and saw April again, her eyes unfocused, her arms stretched wide, coming straight for me…straight for me…

He defeated you, just as I shall do now.
Do you still have the gris-gris?  Ah, it doesn’t matter. 
Prepare to die, Wiccan bitch
.

I tried to open my eyes, but I found I couldn’t—it was as if two great weights rested on them.   I was lifted off the ground, suddenly, and as I tried to raise my arm I found it would not obey the feeble command from my brain.  I summoned what little energy I had left and forced one eye open.

The black blob of energy that held me powerless had a cone-shaped head with horns, and great, green-tinged lips with massive yellowed teeth.  The red eyes that pinned my stare radiated all the fires of Hell.  This was one badass, ugly-looking daemon.  I felt a modicum of shame wash over me, to be defeated by such a creature.

Too bad.  If you could have mastered the gris-gris….ah, well. You’ll never know.

He began to whirl me madly around the room, so fast I thought I might throw up.  I saw, once again, April staggering toward me, unseeing, unfeeling, knocking over the jar of kerosene…the flames, springing up from nowhere…the madman’s laugh, ringing in my ears, as I watched my partner’s body start to be engulfed in flame…

“Crap,” I cried.  “Kill me.  You’re right.  I deserve to die. I don’t deserve to live.”

Ah, the throes of self-pity.  How just for one so self-serving.  It shall be my pleasure to deliver you to your Maker, Wiccan
—eh?  What’s that?

The dark energy released me, just like that, and I fell to the ground with a sharp thud!  My head felt large, ten times its normal size, like someone was shaking a maracas inside.  I reached out with my energy, tentatively.

Nothing.  I couldn’t sense anything.  What the hell had happened?

A hand on my shoulder.  “Morgan Hawkes, are you alright?”

With a great effort, I opened my eyes to see two bright green eyes and a headful of white hair.

“Zandor,” I muttered.  “What in hell are you doing here?”

“I have a cousin who lives nearby.  She heard what was going on and called me.”  His fingers dug into my arm as he helped me stand.  “I thought perhaps you could use some assistance.” His smile was wide.  “Iglatz daemons, as you know, are susceptible to the incantations of trolls, if they are taken unaware.  Whatever you were focusing on held his attention long enough for me to slip behind him and utter a chant.”  He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “I am humbled it worked.”

I resisted the sudden urge I had to pat him on top of his white fluffy head.  “I am immensely grateful to you,” I said.  “I…I owe you my life, Zandor.”

The troll’s cheeks reddened.  “Oh, I doubt that. You would have defeated him, had he not gotten you so preoccupied.”  His eyes narrowed as he surveyed me.  “It must have been quite a painful memory for you.  There…there are tears in your eyes.”

I swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand.  “It—it’s allright, now.  He got to me.  I shouldn’t  have let him.   My guard was down.”

Zandor handed me the ason, which had fallen to the floor in the scuffle.  I tucked it back inside my belt.  “It’s no crime to admit you need help, occasionally,” he said.  “I still owe you, Morgan Hawkes.  I repeat, you have only to ask the favor.”

I let my lips curve upward.  “I think this makes us even, Zandor. As a matter of fact, I think it tips the scales in your favor.”

He shook his head.  “No, no, my gratefulness to you knows no bound
a
ries, Morgan.  If I can ever help you, truly, do not hesitate to call. Promise me you will.”

This time I did reach out and pat his arm.  “Okay, Zandor.  If it means that much to you, I promise.”  My eye fell on my watch and I sighed.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get a move on.   As the White Rabbit would say, I’m late for a very important date.”

.