This Wicked Magic (31 page)

Passing beneath the chandeliers, which were not lit, felt eerie, but Vika knew it wasn’t the lacking light that caused her skin to goose-bump and her senses to go on alert. The atmosphere was heavy with dark magic and testosterone. She could feel it ripple over her skin, and not in a good way.

“What are you doing here, Vika? I thought you and Libby were—”

“Busy cleaning up your mess?” she countered, hands to hips. Then she couldn’t hold up the standoffish front, and she put her arms over his shoulders and kissed him. “I couldn’t stay away. I don’t want you to do anything rash. Promise me you’re not doing something crazy? I can feel it. Something is not right here.”

The man next to CJ cleared his throat.

“This is my best friend, Lucian Bellisario,” CJ said in introducing them. “Vampire and antiques dealer. He’s a shop in the seventh quarter. And my friend since the nineteenth century.”

“You managed to hang with this guy that long, eh?” she offered, and shook the vampire’s hand. It was a strong grip, and she noted Lucian’s eyes sparkled with charm.

“We’re the only two who can stand one another’s company for so long,” the man offered with what she noted was an Italian accent. Lucian cast a glance over Vika’s shoulder. “And the other lovely redhead is?”

“Oh, sorry.” Vika tugged Libby up beside her. “This is Libby, my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucian.” Libby shook his hand. “Very strong grip. You guys are all so...striking.”

CJ and Lucian exchanged looks along with sheepish grins, and Vika couldn’t help a roll of her eyes.

“Libby?” TJ called from the salt circle, where he had retreated. “You the one involved with the soul bringer?”

“Oh, yes. Well, I mean, you know, we’re close.”

“Close? Uh, didn’t he take your soul?” TJ asked.

“Yes, but he was just doing his job.” Libby’s smile faded quickly as she realized how pitifully desperate that statement had sounded.

Vika caught Lucian’s smirk. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m part of the necessary accoutrements for the evening’s entertainment.”

“Necessary...?” A vampire and two witches? She turned to CJ, unable to hide her displeasure. “What are you doing? I know you’re up to something. You can’t do it. I won’t let you do it.”

“It’s already begun.” He looked aside, and she followed his gaze to the massive salt circle on the floor. TJ walked around it, smudging the air with a smoking roll of sage. Consecrating the circle in turn with an athame. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Worry I might never see you again? How thoughtful of you. You’re not going.”

“Where do you think I’m going?”

“Obviously, to Daemonia.” Vika caught Libby’s gasping look. Yes, she’d said it again, named the awful, evil place she had sworn never to invoke. She didn’t care anymore. Too much was at stake, namely, her lover’s soul. “I don’t know what you plan to do, but I can feel that is your goal. Our souls are gone, CJ. Just leave it at that. Libby and I will be—”

He gripped her head between his palms. “Not fine. Never fine without a soul, Vika. And don’t try to convince yourself of that. I will not rest until you and your sister have back what is rightfully yours.”

“It’s a nice thought,” Libby interjected, “but seriously, I don’t know what you can do. Especially in Daemonia. The soul bringer never sets foot in that wicked place.”

“Even if you could do something,” Vika added, “it’s too dangerous. How— Why do you think it can happen in Daemonia?”

“Five minutes, CJ,” his brother called from his position manning the circle. “Lucian, get that shank of silver tubing ready.”

The vampire shook his head in morose acceptance and wandered over to the table near the sofa, where he picked up a long silver pipe. Studying the gleaming thin pipe, he winced then started to unbutton his shirt.

Vika couldn’t guess what that was all about, but the shivers had not left her skin.

“You’re not going to stop this, no matter what I have to say, are you?” she challenged.

CJ took her hands and held them in a clasp between them. Meeting his eyes, she wanted to do a soul gaze, to look deep within him and somehow convince him this was not worth it.
She
was not worth it. And now that he was no longer infested with demons, such a gaze would be possible.

But she had no soul. A soul gaze was impossible.

“Lover mine,” he said. “Bright Star of My Heart. Witch of My Dreams. I’m bringing the Nacht März to Daemonia—”

“No, you— It was destroyed.”

“Not for long. Something crafted from Lucifer’s wing can never be destroyed. I returned to the Metro tunnel and found it.” He slipped a hand in his pocket and pulled out the white bone whistle. Vika cringed from the horrible thing. “Before I exorcised War from Ian Grim, we made a deal.”

“Another deal with a demon? Oh, Certainly. You...you promised you would never go back there.”

“I did, and...if you cannot see to trusting me on this, and still want me to uphold that promise, then I will. I have to. My word is good, Vika, I mean it. But, hear me out before you decide. If I bring this to Daemonia, then War will hand me Reichardt Fallowgleam’s soul in exchange.”

“That’s the soul bringer’s name?” What a stupid question. Did it matter? But she’d never heard it before, and it struck her as a sidhe name. She looked to her sister. “Did you know that?”

Libby shrugged and offered a sheepish nod. What other things had she not told Vika about the soul bringer?

She turned to CJ. “Why is his soul in Daemonia?”

“According to War, any Fallen one who serves as soul bringer, their soul was taken to Daemonia after the fall.”

Made no sense to her, but then she knew next to nothing about the angelic ranks. “Why
his
soul?”

“Because.” He kissed her hand and rubbed his cheek aside her knuckles. The subtle magic in his hand tingled over her skin. “I’m going to offer it to Reichardt in exchange for the St. Charles sisters’ souls.”

Libby’s gasp preceded Vika’s blurted-out “He won’t agree. What is a soul to Reichardt?”

“Won’t it make him mortal?” Libby chimed in. “He wouldn’t want that. Of course...I would.”

“How do you know?” CJ countered.

“How do
you
know?” Vika challenged.

“I don’t. But I’m willing to take the chance,” he said. “For you. Both of you. I have to do this. Much as it kills me, and marks my soul blacker than it is now, I have to break the promise I made to you. If...you will allow it.”

Vika’s heart melted into a big mushy puddle. This man was willing to go to a literal hell and make a bargain with an unreliable demon to procure something that may have little value to the one person who could restore her soul. Because he loved her.

“I love you,” she whispered, feeling a hot teardrop splash her nose. “You stupid, impractical, reckless, dark and dangerous witch, you.”

“Sweet words like that are what make me love you so much. Can you give me permission?”

“To break your promise? Yes. Because you do it with a true heart. For actually going to Daemonia again? I think it’s going to take some time to forgive you for that.”

“I’m not actually going there. My doppelgänger will. It’s hard to explain. You’ll see what we’ve cooked up. Now, TJ is waiting. And I don’t want Lucian to lose his courage.”

“How is the vampire involved?”

“Vika, I told you there were things I had to do to go to Daemonia. Sacrifices I made.” He glanced to the vampire, and she understood.

Vampire blood was commonly used in witchs’ spells. Their hearts were the catalyst to the witch gaining another century of immortality. Powerful magic that. She could guess a vampire sacrifice could serve a catalyst to entrance into Daemonia. Surely, he had made many.

“That explains all the vampire deaths we’ve been called to clean up lately. Ian Grim?”

Certainly nodded. “I suspect he was trying to get to Daemonia even knowing I’d already been there. I’ve a carte blanche to entrance now, but will need blood to reopen the doors. Lucian has offered to assist. But we have to get rolling. There’s a window we have.”

She gripped his shirt. “What if you don’t come back?”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m not leaving this realm. If all goes well, I’ll be safe in the circle, and my doppelgänger will trek through Daemonia. TJ is going to hold me here. It’ll work. I promise.”

Vika sighed. It sounded reasonable. And not. Anytime a man—of any breed—involved himself in the workings of Daemonia, it could not end well. She gripped his hand as if to squeeze it tight enough would hold him to her.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Your love will keep me here. I know it.”

She nodded. “You have to do what feels right. But I’m staying here. I’ll sit on the couch and stay out of your way. Libby will, too. You can’t ask us to leave.”

The brothers exchanged glances. Lucian shrugged, leaving the decision up to the witch in charge.

“Fine.” CJ kissed her quickly. “But stay out of the way, witch, or I will spank you. And on second thought, Libby, you might want to keep an eye on Lucian. No matter what occurs, trust he will be fine. But take a look at him after his part is done, will you?”

Libby exchanged nervous gazes with the vampire, and nodded silently.

“Let’s do this,” TJ rallied.

Chapter 28

A
circle has no beginning and no end. There is, theoretically, no way in and no way out. The perfect means for protecting magic—and containing the vilest of evils.

It was amazing to watch the brothers work in tandem. Two masters of dark spellcraft who barely had to speak to one another and easily found a deep, harmonizing rhythm to their spell chant. CJ, stripped to but tattered jeans, stood barefoot in the center of the circle, the white-bone Nacht März in hand. He chanted low and bass to his brother’s matching bellow.

Thoroughly Jones, clad in black and wearing a top hat that emphasized his darkness with a steampunkish touch of mischief, walked the circle with a bended knee and a spring to his step, almost as if an Indian fancy dance. He recited a spell Vika was not familiar with, but she understood they were summoning a doppelganger for CJ, a double who would emulate him in flesh, blood and even soul and who would remain connected to CJ via a fine astral cord that should run between them. An invisible cord of life—CJ’s aura, if you will.

Vika had never seen the ceremony performed before, and she sat forward beside her sister, her elbows on her knees, fingers clutching the jade beads.

TJ nodded to Lucian, who had removed his shirt and wielded the steel pipe. Vika didn’t want to imagine its use, but she had a good idea. Blood from the vampire’s heart was the important ingredient.

“The things I do for friends.” Lucian offered the sisters a smirk.

Stepping inside the salt circle, the vampire handed the pipe to CJ, and without a second thought or a verbal warning, CJ jammed the pipe into his best friend’s chest.

Libby let out a chirp. They clasped hands, and Vika’s shiver joined her sister’s shaking. It wasn’t like her to get frightened during spellcraft. They pulled one another into a hug.

Blood poured out the end of the pipe, over CJ’s hands and onto his bare feet. The vampire braced himself against his friend’s shoulders, wincing yet otherwise appearing to take the intrusion as nothing more than a prick from a pin. CJ, using his left hand, traced over the spell tattooed above his heart, leaving a pentacle drawn in blood dripping down his skin. He then touched his forehead, his eyelids and chin, marking the spell.

“Out of the circle, Lucian!” TJ commanded.

The vampire nodded to CJ, who gripped the steel rod, and then he jerked his chest away from the weapon and stepped backward, watching his steps so as not to muss the salt circle. Once outside, he staggered and dropped to his knees. CJ tossed the bloody pipe out behind him.

“That’s my cue,” Libby whispered. She scampered over to the vampire’s side, catching him as he fell forward into her clutches.

Suddenly TJ shouted, “Harrahya!” and reached over the salt line to clasp his brother’s right hand firmly. The brothers raised their hands high. The room grew ominously shadowed, and outside lightning flashed.

The air electrified, lifting the hairs on Vika’s skin in a prickling tingle and bringing the various oils used in the spell to a heady perfume. Earthy vetiver filled the space, lemony sweet. Cinnamon and frankincense to access the psychic realm. Clary sage would attract and secure the doppelganger.

Inside the circle, CJ’s body went stiff, his eyes closed and his jaw clamped tightly shut, as if he was being pierced through with a shock of electricity. He’d dragged his bloody hands over his abdomen, leaving a tribal marking down the side of his torso.

Vika crept forward on the couch, feeling the urge to rush in and help. But she would only destroy the spell. She must be patient and trust the Jones brothers knew what they were doing.

Libby cradled Lucian’s head and shoulders in her lap, but the vampire observed the spell with keen eyes. He would be fine, the narrow pipe not wide enough to have made his heart burst. His healing should be complete within moments.

The brothers’ chants rose in a bellowing wave and knocked at the veil between the realms. Baritone rhythms mastered the atmosphere. Vika felt their voices upon her skin, permeating, exploring, laying claim. With a tribal yell, CJ’s body stiffened with a hand up in a triumphant clasp with his brother’s hand.

A chill swept about Vika’s shoulders as the claiming touch receded and she decided Daemonia had been breeched. CJ’s torso arched forward, while his head and feet remained back. He looked as though he were being tugged by a rope about his waist. The fingers of the hand he clasped within TJ’s stiffened, and she could see the struggle to unloose himself from the firm hold. Jaw tight, CJ fought against something.

When in Daemonia, Vika knew, the moments became days and hours turned to weeks or months. If the spell lasted only minutes on this side of the veil, CJ could well endure a week in the place of all demons.

She didn’t want that for him. Why had she let him go through with this? What sort of man would return, should he return? He would be changed, altered, perhaps even inhabited with more demons. Could the doppelgänger bring back demons to CJ’s soul?