Random Acts of Sorcery (22 page)

It was another hour and a half before Sam was free from his mingling obligations, and it took another half hour after that to find out where Donatello Arrigio was holed up. No one at registration agreed to tell him where to find the Chairman, but he was lucky enough to run into Garcia, one of the other Examiners besides Serenus. The younger demon gave him the room number easily, but noted that nothing Sam said now would sway Arrigio’s opinion during the hearing.

I wasn’t even thinking about that
, thought Sam as he made his way down a blue-carpeted hall to Arrigio’s room.
I’m just trying to keep my people alive if at all possible.

He knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” came a gruff reply. He didn’t sound like he was in a good mood, but then again, the Chairman never did.

“It’s Samuel Andrews, Mr. Chairman. I have something I’d like to speak to you about—something that has no bearing on my hearing tomorrow.”

There was a pause, then the older demon opened the door. “Who gave you my room number?” he said, his beady red eyes looking more irritated than usual.

“Garcia. It’s important, I wouldn’t come over trivialities,” Sam said. He hoped he hadn’t gotten the younger Examiner in trouble; he seemed like a decent fellow, as demons went.

“Alright. Come in,” Arrigio said, walking into his room and motioning for Sam to follow.

Sam was surprised to see that Arrigio’s room was small and lacking in frills; other than the sea-themed décor, including two small fish tanks, it looked like a mid-sized hotel room that one might find anywhere in the country.

“I’m surprised they don’t have you in a deluxe suite,” Sam said.

Arrigio frowned and began fiddling with the tiny coffeemaker on the dresser. “Frankly, excessive displays of wealth disgust me. I leave the deluxe accommodations to those capable of enjoying them,” he said. “Can I offer you a cup of bad coffee?”

“No thank you.”

“Then sit down,” said Arrigio, motioning to the chairs near the window. Sam took a chair and waited for the older demon to finish brewing his coffee. When Arrigio sat down, the look in his eyes was friendly, surprising Sam. He didn’t know the dour man could make that expression.

“I must admit that you intrigue me, Son of Sammael,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee before he continued. “It’s the night before your hearing, and you claim you want to speak about something unrelated?”

So Sam told Arrigio all about the strange attack on his territory, including what little information they’d been able to glean from the hospitalized cultist. Arrigio listened carefully, his expression phasing back to its regular frown by the time Sam was finished.

“How is it I’ve heard nothing about this yet?”

“It didn’t make the national news,” said Sam. “If the suicide bomber had succeeded in blowing up the shop, it probably would have, but without that, it’s just a cluster of attempted murders. Plus, my vampires have the police neutralized, so they haven’t made any public statements beyond saying that a few people were attacked by violent criminals on the same evening.”

“Ah,” said Arrigio, straightening his thin glasses. “I suppose a string of attempted murders by gun-wielding maniacs is not noteworthy enough to make much of an impression in this country anymore.”

If that was an invitation to begin a political discussion, Sam wasn’t taking it. “I wanted to know if you had any idea who this Seraph might be. If it’s a witch, maybe you can give
me the names of some possible—”

“I doubt it’s a witch,” said Arrigio, putting his empty Styrofoam cup down on the table. “Sadly, this has happened before; foolish vampires don’t take care of their pets, and the discarded
pets band together and put ridiculous ideas in each other’s heads.”

Sam frowned. “But how did they know where to find all of my people?”

Arrigio smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Do you think you and your people are difficult to find? You don’t exactly live a low-profile life, Son of Sammael.”

Sam felt a flash of anger, but let it pass.
He’s right. I’m famous in this world, and the fact that I don’t want to be is irrelevant.

“Look, I see your point, but the fact is the information they had was too in-depth. I can believe a group of disgruntled vampire pets could have found my location online, but each of my human servants? They not only had their addresses, they knew where to find them even when they weren’t at home. I don’t see how they could have known all that without help from someone with access to the court.”

Arrigio rested an ankle on his knee, clearly thinking. “It’s possible they might have been fed information from someone—and if so, we will find that leak. But I simply don’t believe that it was a witch.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Sam.

“No demon would use such a clumsy means of assassination; they sent how many assassins, and didn’t kill a single target? Who would take such a risk as to do something so illegal, yet use such ineffectual methods?”

“It could have been a witch acting alone,” said Sam. He didn’t even realize he’d been thinking that in the back of his mind until he said it.

“No,” said Arrigio, shaking his head. “I’ve heard that you stay out of Cassandra’s mind on general principal, which is…commendable, in its own way. But you are unique. Every demon who has a witch has access to her thoughts at any time; how could she hatch such a scheme, without her master finding out?”

He shook his head again, more vigorously this time. “No, the only way a witch could be involved is if her master commanded her to do this, and I know of
no demon who would do so. This was, sadly, an act of madmen who may have a connection to some lackey with access to documents he shouldn’t have.”

Sam looked at the carpeting between his feet, unsure what to say next. Everything Arrigio was saying made sense to him, but Sam just wasn’t convinced that the cultists weren’t being manipulated by someone else.
Someone with a larger agenda than just lashing out at the world that had wronged them.

“Are you sure you’re not underestimating witches?” he said finally. “I know they lack the kind of healing magic that we wish they had, but they can be powerful in their own way.”
And if you do underestimate witches, my dear mother might have to set you straight tomorrow….

At that, Arrigio stood up; to him, the subject was clearly closed. “I have nothing but respect for the many talents of witches, Sam. That’s why we all watch what they’re thinking so closely. Once your own witch has time to get her bearings and learns to cast more than a spell or two, I’m sure you’ll do the same.”

In the end, Sam did agree to let Cassie go to the witch meet-and-greet at Op/Dec, bu
t there were several conditions: Miri was close by, if not always in sight, and Billingsly was swimming in one of the pools where he had a good view of the main patio. Sam even went so far as to tap into her magic and put a thick barrier around her, which she thought was ridiculous, but she wasn’t going to blame him for being protective.

He’d let his guard down once, and she’d suffered for it; he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again, even if that meant being more than a little paranoid.

It’s not paranoia when they really are out to get you,
she thought, as she stepped out of the back entrance of the hotel lobby and into the warm evening air.

For a moment, she was dazzled; Op/Dec was a huge area, filled with multiple swimming pools and flashing neon lights that reflected off the water in all colors of the rainbow. In between pools, bathing-suited party goers were gyrating like they were on a dance floor, the lights reflecting off the watery sheen of their wet bathing suits as they moved. While some people in the pools were swimming, many were dancing together in waist-deep water, and others simply talked while they sipped fancy cocktails by the side of one pool or another. On the
other side of the patio from where Cassie was standing, she could just barely see a row of large hot tubs, many of which looked full of people.

Because it was The Laguna, there were also fish; the wall behind the outdoor bar area was one huge aquarium, so large that even sharks were present. Altogether, the sight of the place, combined with loud, thumping techno music, sent Cassie into sensory overload; it was a moment before she even remembered that she was supposed to be looking for a group of women sitting by one of the pools.

Fortunately, the witches were looking for her.

“Cassie!” a voice called out, and Cassie turned to see Andrea sitting on a deck chair, surrounded by several other women. The tall blond witch stood up and motioned her over, while Cassie gulped; next to Aeka, Andrea had perhaps the most perfect body she had ever seen. The woman looked simultaneously slender and curvy in a white two-piece with gold accents. Cassie felt downright frumpish in one of her old camp swimsuits.

And Nathaniel tells me that I look “radiant.” That guy is such a liar
, she thought as she made her way to the gathering of witches.

“I’m glad you joined us,” said Andrea, stooping down to give Cassie a quick peck on the cheek. “I know the hearing is tomorrow, but we witches get so few opportunities to compare notes.” She patted an empty lounge chair next to her. “Come sit down and tell us all about your training.”

Cassie sat, feeling more than a little awkward. All of the other witches were much older than her; even the youngest one looked like she was in at least her mid-twenties. If she had to put an age to Andrea, she would have guessed ten years older than that, even though she was in amazing shape; there was a hardness to her face that spoke of experience.

Cassie felt herself flush when she realized everyone was looking at her. “Um, well, I haven’t really done much training yet. I only just became a witch,” she said.

“Oh really?” said another witch, this one a thirty-something woman with dark hair and a deep tan. She smirked as she played with the straw in her drink. “I’m surprised the Son of Sammael waited so long. He doesn’t strike me as the patient type.”

The women laughed at that, and Cassie felt a knot in her stomach. That was a knowing laugh, the kind of laugh adults used when they were talking about sex, and other things young people weren’t supposed to know about. They were treating her like she was one of them, but she felt like an imposter.

“Um, so yeah, I can’t cast any spells yet or anything. I’m sure we’ll start training really hard once we get back home,” Cassie said, feeling like she was babbling.

“Spells can wait,” said Andrea, gently. “Getting a general sense for magic is far more important. If you can sense the magic while it’s being done around you, transitioning to spells will be so much easier.”

“That is, assuming one isn’t overconfident,” said the dark-haired witch. She was smiling at Cassie, but there was something cold about her expression.

Andrea shuffled in her chair. “Oh, look at me being a ditz, I forgot to introduce you. Cassie, this is Miranda,” she said, indicating the dark-haired witch, “and that’s Leah, Denise and Rashita.” The other three witches smiled politely at Cassie.

But Miranda continued as though Andrea had not spoken. “I worry for you, you know,” said Miranda, looking at Cassie over the rim of her drink with suspicious eyes. “All I know is, if I had demons treating me like I was the greatest thing the world had ever seen at your age, I would have turned into the most arrogant, insufferable little witch,” she said.

Cassie jerked her head back as though she had been smacked. “I
.…” she started, at a loss.

Miranda
continued, her dark eyes boring into Cassie’s. “Look, you may not want to hear it, but the fact of the matter is, you’re going to have a very rude awakening when it comes to actually learning spellcraft. Demons love getting excited about new girls with potential, but they don’t understand the hard work involved to become a functional witch; talent is the least of it. If you want my advice, dump all that garbage you’ve heard about your supposedly great magic out of your head, and prepare to work your tail off.”

Cassie went from feeling chastened to downright angry. “It’s not my fault what they say about me,” she said, knowing that she sounded defensive and not caring. “I’m just trying to do the best I can.”

Miranda looked at her like she was a small child who had just dumped some Cheerios down the front of her shirt. “But honey, how can you not be affected? All anyone talks about is the great magic in you, the demons have been out of their heads about it for months. By now, you must think you piss pure white magic.”

Any clever comebacks flew out of Cassie’s head, and she just looked at the dark-haired witch in indignation.
The hell?
What did I ever do to her?

“Miranda, stop it,” Andrea snapped. “You have a point, but go easy on the kid. Like she says, it’s not her fault what they say about her. If you want to blame someone, blame the demons for getting so overexcited. They’re all
acting like big kids.”

Miranda made a dismissive sound, and took a big swig of her drink. “Look, I just tell it like it is sweetheart, and not everybody likes that. But if you can’t handle it, you’re going to have a very hard time being a proper witch.”

With that, she stood up and stretched. “I’m going to go take a swim. Good luck with the hearing tomorrow, Cassie.”

Andrea made a pained face as her friend walked away. “Miranda’s not usually like that. I think her master has been going on endlessly about the promising new witch he’s heard all about, and she’s not dealing with it well. I hope you can forgive her.”

Cassie blinked, surprised. The little interaction that she had with Andrea before tonight had led her to believe that the blond witch hated her; for her to defend Cassie was a surprise. Cassie supposed it was possible that Andrea wasn’t crazy about an upstart young witch either, but was embarrassed by her friend’s outright hostility.

“It’s okay,” Cassie lied. “It must be annoying to always be hearing about me. I’m not that interesting.”

Andrea laughed at that. “I don’t know about that,” she said, crossing her smooth legs, “but the truth is Cassie, I’m interested in your demon.” She looked at the other witches and they all smiled conspiratorially.

“Sam?” asked Cassie. “What about him?”

Are they going to ask me what I think they’re going to ask me? Because if they do, not only do I not know the answer, but I think I might die of embarrassment right in this chair.

Rashita spoke for the first time. “Is he as powerful as they say?” she asked with no small amount of wonder. “My master says it’s all hot
air, that he got lucky with one or two big spells and now everyone is just falling for the hype.”

Cassie exhaled.
Oh good! I can maybe answer that.

“He is really powerful,” she said, seeing no point in lying to the other witches. “But he’s also inexperienced, so it can be really dangerous. He’s gotten loads better lately though.”

“How is he still inexperienced, at his age?” said Andrea, a curious expression on her face.

‘At his age?’
How old is Sam, anyway? I’m pretty sure he’s under 30, but it never seemed like a good time to ask….

“Uh, well, he barely used his powers at all for a long time. He doesn’t like to.”

For a moment, the witches just stared at her like she’d said that grass wasn’t green and the sky wasn’t blue.

“That’s ridiculous,” said Andrea. “He must have another reason.”

“He tends to keep his reasoning to himself,” said a familiar voice behind Cassie. She turned in her chair and very nearly gasped.

“What are you doing here?”

Wearing her usual bland business suit despite the poolside setting, Sam’s mother shrugged. “This is a meeting for witches; I’m a witch.”

Andrea narrowed her eyes; Cassie could immediately tell that there was no love lost between the two witches. “Just because this is a meeting for witches, does not mean that all witches are necessarily invited.” Her tone could have cut glass.

Helen made a contemptuous sound. “Oh, your mastery of Venn diagrams cuts me to the quick,” she snarked as she sat down next to Cassie on the same lounge chair. Andrea fumed with anger, but Helen was no longer paying any attention to her. “But it doesn’t matter, since I’m really here to talk to you anyway.”

“Why?” said Cassie.
What’s so important she would track me down and talk to me here? Does Sam even know that she’s in Las Vegas yet?

“It’s your little friend, the one the Leviathan was so fond of,” Helen said, putting an unlit cigarette in her mouth. “She appears to be swimming with the sharks right now; you might want to do something about that.”