Speak of the Demon by Stacia Stark

4

Danica

Iwas in a dark mood the next day as I drove to the Mage Council facility. I was armed with a takeout coffee in my cup holder and the arrow that had killed the lesser demon in my backpack.

I needed to make this a quick visit before Albert got wind that I was here. Albert was the most powerful mage in the state, and he’d never liked me. Ultimately, he only tolerated bounty hunters because he needed contractors to help his mages hunt the paranormals who treated humans as prey. With the number of paranormals in the Triangle growing every day, he’d been forced to hire bounty hunters like me. It offended him that I had no interest in one day testing to become a mage.

To say that he wouldn’t be pleased to learn of my bond with Samael was an understatement.

I parked and slid out of my car, forcing myself to push my shoulders back when they wanted to hunch self-consciously. Thanks to the gold mark on my arm, I’d been forced to wear a long-sleeved shirt in the heat. Unfortunately, I didn’t think I’d be fooling anyone for long, since the tail-end of Samael’s mark covered my upper hand, peeking out from beneath my shirt.

The mark shimmered in the sun, and if it had been anything else, I would’ve admitted it was gorgeous. Since it meant I was bonded to a demon, my stomach churned every time I glanced at it.

There was now a tie between us. I don’t know where it led to— if it was tied to Samael’s soul, or the deep well of his power. Supposedly, demons didn’t have souls. But I could feel him at the end of the bond— an ominous, masculine presence— and the thought made panic creep up my spine.

No. I had no time for panic. I’d fix this little mess, figure out who was killing Samael’s demons, lose the bond, and get back to my regularly scheduled programming before my deadline.

The whispers started the moment I entered the facility and I ground my teeth. The lobby was packed with mages, and every head turned as I stalked toward the front desk to sign in.

I held my hand over the wide crystal bowl, and the water glowed green, allowing me entry. The receptionist gave me a shaky smile, her eyes wide, and I stalked toward the elevator.

On the fifth floor, the stares continued, along with a healthy side of disgust. Ben sneered at me and I raised one eyebrow, staring at him until he glanced away.

Keigan leaned against an empty desk and waited for me, his brown eyes mournful as he watched me approach. His face was boyish, almost innocent, and his eyes were usually lost in thought, a crease between his bushy eyebrows as he considered whatever problem he was working on.

Today, that problem was me.

My eyes stung, and I forced myself to keep walking, no matter how much I wanted to slink away. His disappointment hurt worse than anything else, and I bit my lower lip as I dropped my gaze to the floor.

Keigan was one of five Discipulus Mages who were in charge of the day-to-day running of the facility and all of the people who worked and trained in it. Since the moment I’d begun working for the Council, Keigan had seemed to know I needed someone. He was careful to give me space, but he’d always been a sounding board when I needed one.

“What happened?” he asked, and I glanced over my shoulder. Keigan followed my gaze, raising his eyebrows, and everyone immediately found something to do.

“I made a mistake,” I whispered. I took him through the events of last night, ending with “I have two weeks to solve the murders and then I’m free.”

Keigan lifted one eyebrow. “Samael isn’t known for negotiating.”

I shrugged. “He must’ve been in a good mood.” My skin prickled at the memory of the rage in his eyes. He hadn’t seemed like he was in a good mood.

“I hope for your sake you solve his mystery by his deadline. You’ll let me know if I can help in any way.” Keigan said, and I nodded.

“The biggest issue will be staying off Albert’s radar.”

Keigan’s face lost some of its peaceful cheerfulness. Discipulus Mages trained for years before they were given the opportunity to study for their positions. From there, the only way they could join the Mage Council was by proving themselves inherently indispensable to the Council, either through the amount of power they were able to channel, the cases they supervised— and their close rate— or through ‘furthering the Mage Council’s interests.’ Keigan had never mentioned if he’d like to join the council, but I knew he disapproved of many of the decisions Albert made.

“I believe in you, Danica,” he said. “I’ve always thought you had it in you to do great things.”

With that, Keigan gave me a gentle smile and I gave him a wave as I walked through the wide doors leading to the assignment counter.

A mage name Charles was on job distribution today, and he scowled at me as I approached the counter. I held out my hand and his scowl turned to a smile as he handed me the piece of paper with my next bounty.

I let out a low growl as I read the summary. The mages were unhappy I was working for Samael, but they knew better than to take it up with the demon. Instead, I’d be on the receiving end of their displeasure.

This assignment involved tracking down a witch. Only, most of the actual details were missing from the summary. The only information included was that she’d failed to appear at her sentencing for a magic-related crime. The crime itself was sealed.

Failure to appear.

I glanced up from the summary. “Are you serious?” Failure to appear cases were given to first-year baby mages.

Charles just stared at me, blank-faced. I sighed. I anticipated a lot of bad jobs in my future. One more thing to blame Samael for.

This assignment was likely to involve long days of stakeouts. Witches were social creatures, mostly preferring to stay in the comfort of their covens. That meant I’d need to keep an eye on her house, while also following up with any known contacts.

I reached for the thin folder Charles held out to me, and the muscles around his eyes tightened as he glanced down at the demon mark poking out from beneath my sleeve.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “I fucked up.”

Ignoring his snort, I opened the folder, scanning the photo of the witch. Mary Johnson was in her mid-fifties, and her face was familiar. Maybe I’d seen her around when I was a child. Her dark hair had been ruthlessly straightened, and her grey eyes were tired.

This wasn’t the full file, but I was hoping I wouldn’t need it for a failure to appear. I took the paperwork with me, inputting her address in my phone.

After two and a half years on the job, I was no dummy. I stopped at a gas station to use the bathroom and stock up on snacks, then checked that I had my phone charger so my battery wouldn’t die.

When I had everything I needed, I drove toward Mary’s home in Trinity Park.

Trinity Park was a mish-mash of bungalows, period revivals, huge, looming Victorians, and Neo-Colonial architecture. The Brightleaf/Trinity Park neighborhoods had been home to the witches since portals opened and they found themselves able to harness power.

Mary lived in a three-bedroom brick bungalow on Dacian Ave. Thankfully, it was eight blocks north and a block east of my sister’s, but visiting the neighborhood still made me twitchy.

I got out of the car. Mary hadn’t done much with the front yard— a few sad shrubs were planted here and there, and her lawn desperately needed a mow.

The back of my neck itched as I walked up the steps leading to her porch and rang the doorbell. I followed it up with a knock on the door and waited for a few minutes.

No answer.

I moseyed around to the back of the house, feeling the brush of Mary’s wards against my skin. Any closer, and I’d have to break them, which would alert her that someone was on her property. I flicked open the latch of her gate and wandered around to her backyard.

Nothing. The house was empty.

I unapologetically emptied her mailbox, taking the mail back to my car, where I sat and rifled through it. Witches always forgot to ward their mailboxes.

Bills, a subscription to Witch World magazine, a postcard, and a letter from Fight Against Fae, thanking her for her donation. I frowned at that. The witches and the fae weren’t typically best buddies, but as far as I knew, most witches usually pretended the fae didn’t exist.

Even the darkest witch was usually no match for a high fae– of either court– and witches were more likely to put their effort into taking down the mages.

While witch magic was hereditary, no one quite knew where exactly the mages got their magic. It was a secret that mages only learned themselves when they passed their testing and made it to the upper echelon. Many witches took offense to this, and those with less magic than the mages often loathed them, some of them actively planning how to dismantle the Mage Council for good.

Curious and curiouser.

I placed the letter on my passenger seat to read later and examined the postcard. Three cartoon witches were positioned around a cauldron, the oldest witch wearing a pointed hat, her mouth open in an obvious cackle. While the witches were dressed in bright yellows and greens, the cauldron shone gold, slightly raised on the postcard.

I wrinkled my nose. That was offensive as hell, and full of stereotypes more commonly held by humans who had no contact with paranormals. Witches didn’t use cauldrons, demons didn’t steal souls, and the fae didn’t replace human kids with changelings. Shaking my head at the sheer ignorance, I flipped the postcard over. The return address was a town I’d never heard of in Ohio, and the only thing written on the postcard itself was an address on Massey Ave. I frowned. That was the edge of dwarf territory.

Someone banged on my window and I jumped. Served me right for not paying attention to my surroundings. I muttered a curse and pressed the button to wind down the window, kicking myself. Rookie mistakes like this are how you get dead.

“What are you doing here, Danica?”

I squinted at her, and then recognition hit me. “Gail?”

She sniffed. “You don’t belong in this neighborhood,” she warned, and I let out a bitter laugh, ignoring the twinge of hurt that burned deep in my chest.

“The Mage Council says I do,” I said, and she bristled, her hands fisting. I eyed her. When I’d last seen her, Gail had had a full head of blonde hair and her eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. Now, her hair was gray and her eyes were haunted. Was something happening with her coven?

My stomach twisted. If her coven was in trouble, my sister could be in danger.

“What’s going on, Gail?”

“None of your business. You need to leave. Your sister doesn’t want you here.”

Of course she didn’t. Nothing had changed, but that didn’t make the words any easier to hear.

“Evie has nothing to do with my job,” I snapped, losing my temper. “I suggest you leave me alone before I report you for interfering with my duties.”

She cast me a disgusted look and I couldn’t exactly blame her. Threatening to narc on her to the council was dirty.

Gail stalked down the street and I watched her, barely resisting the urge to lean my head against the steering wheel. I’d bet money that I was being watched by numerous witches along this street.

The Mage Council knew exactly how much I enjoyed dealing with witches, and was well aware of how uncomfortable it would be for me in their territory. This was a punishment they knew damn well would sting.

And it was all Samael’s fault.

I flipped through the rest of the mail and a scrap of paper fell from the pile. It was an advertisement for Gary’s store. I wracked my brain. He’d grumbled relentlessly about how much it was going to cost him to run that ad in the paranormal newspaper Durham Denizens. When it finally ran, he’d had so many lookie-loos walking into the store that he’d sworn he’d never do it again.

It was… five months ago. I vividly remembered, since it was the first time I’d gone to his store after stealing the Dagger of Truth, and he’d turned the air blue with his curses when he’d seen me with it. So why had someone placed this in Mary’s mailbox? I needed to talk to Gary. Maybe he’d recognize a photo of the witch.

I scarfed a bag of Doritos for lunch, and when nothing had happened by mid-afternoon, I started to get antsy. My file said Mary was distantly related to a werewolf, and while it was unlikely they would harbor a witch, I may as well check it out. I started the car, glancing down at my phone as it vibrated with a text.

W Greer parking lot.That was all it said, but they’d dropped a pin with the exact location. I ground my teeth. A demon was summoning me. Oh, the irony. “Get it done, solve the mystery, and get the mark removed,” I muttered as I gave up on my werewolf visit and turned the car around.

A demon stood on the far end of the lot, his gaze cutting to me as I parked on the street.

I scanned him as he strode toward me, his feet punching the ground. Like every high demon I’d come across so far, he was beautiful. His hair was a glossy black, the hard block of his jaw said he could take a punch, but his gold-flecked brown eyes seemed ancient.

“A demon was killed here five days ago,” he said as soon as he was a few feet away. “He was waiting for his friend to finish work.” He gestured toward the tattoo shop and I nodded.

“And you are?”

“Agaliarept,” he said.

“That’s quite a mouthful.”

“Search for evidence, witch.”

I shot him a look but turned away, knowing he’d chafe at the dismissal in my body language. I had to get my kicks somehow.

The parking lot was empty. At the far end, it jutted out over the bank of a hill, which led down to an empty field. A wire fence encircled the lot, although it was reinforced with steel bars on the west side, where it overlooked the back of a restaurant.

“Where was the body found?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?”

I glanced over my shoulder and he folded his arms, his muscles bulging.

“You just told me it’s been five days,” I said very slowly. “Which means there’s likely no physical evidence left. Why don’t you just tell me where to start looking so I can get to work?”

He scanned my body, sizing me up. I was glad I’d tucked the Mistilteinn Dagger under my shirt where it was hidden away. With a shrug of one shoulder, he jerked his head toward the left side of the parking lot, about halfway down.

I smiled sunnily at him. “Thank you.”

Ignoring his snarl, I strode toward the area he’d indicated, close to the outdoor area of the restaurant. A group of trees bordered the parking lot behind the wire fence, and I moved closer. Someone could’ve waited behind those trees if they’d been targeting this exact demon.

“Did he know this area?”

“Yes.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. I still hated using my magic, but if it got me out of this deal with the demon, it was worth it.

I slowly dropped my shields, shivering as power flooded through me. Behind me, the demon muttered a curse, and I ignored him, focused on the black smudge a few feet away.

I pointed. “His body was found there?”

A pause. I’d surprised him. “Yes.”

“Strange.”

“Why?”

“Demons get their magic from the underworld right? Even if they’re located in this world?”

I could practically feel him grinding his teeth behind me and I rolled my eyes. “It’s relevant.”

“Yes.”

“Everything in this world contains magic. It’s why so many paranormals enjoy it here— because compared to their worlds, this magic is untapped. It makes them stronger. But this area is completely bereft of magic. It’s like it was sucked away.” I shivered. “It feels… empty.”

“What could do such a thing?”

I considered it. “I don’t know much about demon power. A high-level mage might be able to wield a spell like this. A black witch would likely feed off the earth’s magic if she could. I don’t know about the fae— they keep their abilities under wraps.”

“Werewolves?”

I shook my head. “Werewolves don’t have power the way we do. Their magic is intrinsic to their biology. It’s why they can see through glamor and most magic doesn’t work on them.”

Silence. I turned to find him frowning at me.

“What?”

“How do you know so much about paranormals?” Suspicion dripped from his voice and I rolled my eyes.

“I work for the Mage Council. And my mother made sure I was educated.”

He seemed to chew on that. “A werewolf was seen running from the scene.”

I blinked. “I highly doubt that a werewolf was involved.”

He simply stared at me and I threw my hands up. “Fine. I’ll go talk to the werewolves tomorrow.” I needed to ask them about Mary, anyway. May as well kill two birds and all that.

I leaned closer, peering at the ground. What could burn away magic like this? I wandered around the parking lot, but couldn’t find anything else. I squinted through the wire fence and down at the empty field, but nothing jumped out at me.

I wandered back to the black smudge and glanced at the brooding demon. “Where’s the body?”

“Cremated.”

Awesome. To be fair, if the demon was old enough, he’d probably naturally cremated the way Vercan had.

“How far up the demon hierarchy was this guy. Or girl?”

Agaliarept stared at me and I let out a low growl. “You want me to find out who did it? I need all the information.”

He shrugged. “It’s not my place to give it to you. You can talk to Samael tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?”

A hint of amusement entered his eyes and I had a feeling anything that amused him didn’t bode well for me.

“Everyone bonded to Samael is expected at Monday dinners. No exceptions.”

I opened my mouth and he shook his head. “Attendance is mandatory.”

Great. Just great. Today was Sunday, so now I had to figure out how to get out of the dinner. I shifted my attention back to the weird black smudge. “What if I need answers before tomorrow evening?”

Agaliarept rattled off a number and I held up a hand, making him repeat it so I could add it to the contacts in my phone.

“That’s Samael’s direct line. If you have questions I can’t answer, you can ask him.”

I shivered at the thought of calling the demon, remembering the burning rage in his eyes. Samael wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you called up for a chat.

Agaliarept’s lips twitched at whatever he saw on my face. How lovely that my terror of his boss lightened his mood.

“You’ll need my number as well,” he said, handing me a card. “Call it and leave a message after you’ve talked to the werewolves.”

With that, he strode away, leaving me frowning at the black smudge on the ground.