Vicious Moon Page 4

  Now I was confused. “And the Barrows is . . . ?”

  Laudine studied me for a moment, then suddenly relaxed. Too suddenly. “Let me make some tea and I’ll explain.”

  Damn witches and their tea. With the exception of Gran’s, I usually avoided the stuff. I could have used coffee. I hadn’t had any since dawn, and something told me that I’d need to stay alert in Laudine’s presence.

  Chapter 6

  I followed Laudine through the back of the store to a sizable kitchen. It didn’t have the homey feel of Gran’s place. This witch obviously didn’t spend much time here. It held the basics, a few cabinets, small stove, and a small refrigerator. All had a look of disuse. A round table with four chairs sat in the corner. At least the cloyingly sweet odor of incense and herbs didn’t reach here.

  “Please sit down.” Laudine spoke with her back to me as she prepared the tea.

  I sat in one of the chairs and Herschel went to lie in a patch of sun by the open back door. Laudine hadn’t commented on him, but seemed to have automatically accepted him as my familiar. She worked in silence until she brought two steaming cups to the table. Her preparations had taken long enough to put me on edge. I wanted to start demanding answers, not sit guzzling tea.

  Laudine took a slow sip of her brew. I didn’t touch mine. Was she trying to piss me off? The arrogant tone of her next words confirmed that she was indeed spoiling for a fight.

  “Marisol was a delightful little witch.” She gave a light flip of her fingers. “But she was a bit frivolous at times. She would often go off for days at a time. I figured she had a lover.”

  I sat silent, trying to show no emotion. Marisol had a sunny disposition, but was as far from frivolous as the Arctic Circle was from the equator. I had no clue about lovers. I’d been gone too long for that.

  Laudine continued. “This last time, a month ago, when she didn’t come back—”

  “A month!”

  Laudine jerked. I realized I had shouted.

  Laudine raised her nose in a completely arrogant gesture. “Yes. She’s not helpless. I understand you are something of a nomad. I’ve heard you called a vagrant.”

  “Vagrant? I move around, but I can assure you that wherever I am, I have a serious reason to be there. And this isn’t about me.” I fought the anger curling inside.

  Laudine’s jaw clenched so tight I doubted she could swallow tea then if she wanted to. She relaxed, as if sensing she had pushed me too far. “You don’t understand. I need to tell you from the beginning, about this place. About the Barrows.”

  The front door slammed. The sound of heavy footsteps marched through the store. Fear flashed across Laudine’s face.

  Herschel raised his head and growled. Something dangerous approached.

  I’d brought my backpack in with me, but extracting my gun or the knife I always carried there would be difficult. That left only magic to deal with a threat.

  A man stepped through the doorway. He stood over six feet and had a rugged body, slim and lean but at the same time well muscled. Jet-black hair curled slightly against his neck and around his ears, and his eyes . . . oh, those eyes . . . cold, dark, and dangerous as black ice on a frozen highway. He had copper-colored skin with sharply defined black tattoos down his taut forearms. Not pretty colored tattoos or pictures, but inked midnight curved like pieces of a puzzle. His jeans fit that impressive body well, as did the gun he wore openly in a shoulder holster over his T-shirt. There are places in the world where that might be done, but this was Middle America. Most everyone owned a gun of some sort—they usually kept it out of sight. He obviously didn’t give a shit.

  I’d met men like him before—powerful, dangerous. They were usually lovers or enemies. The look on this one’s face said he didn’t have love on his mind.

  “Didn’t I warn you about using magic, Laudine?” His voice was as deep and dark as the rest of him. This was a man who got what he wanted, when he wanted it. A man used to being obeyed.

  Laudine sat hunched in her chair; her posture said she was ready to jump and run. Witches are not supposed to run—ever. At least that’s what Gran taught me. Well, if she wouldn’t take charge . . . I stood, drawing his attention. I spoke firmly. “If you’re referring to those two dogs who tried to bully me when I arrived, I will defend myself as necessary.”

  He looked me up and down for a long time, then obviously dismissed me as a lightweight. I’d basically told him I was a witch and he dismissed me like a servant. I’d teach him to pay attention.

  Laudine stirred. She’d apparently gained some strength from my defiance. She still would not meet his eyes. “You think I should not have visitors?”

  Why was a witch cringing before this man? Explaining herself?

  He crossed his arms over an impressive chest. “I’ve told you before. You need to leave the Barrows. Go find another place to sell your petty magic. And you.” He nodded at me. “You need to leave right now.”

  I stared into those dark eyes . . . and laughed.

  He drew an almost inaudible breath, nothing more.

  Jumping into battle without knowledge of your opponent’s true strength usually did not end well, even for a witch. Not that such a consideration ever stopped me.

  “Nyx, don’t . . . ,” Laudine pleaded. “You don’t understand. Let it go.” She turned to the man. “Etienne, why can’t you leave me alone? You’ve driven off all my customers. This is my friend’s daughter.”

  She pleaded with him. He had challenged both of us. I was ready to fight and she begged. I clamped my teeth, holding my rage. It was her house. Etienne, she’d called him. Where had I heard that name?

  He stood for a moment; then some fleeting emotion passed over his face. “Laudine, this isn’t personal and you know it. Your time is running out here.”

  Laudine stared at the wall.

  Etienne turned abruptly and walked to the front door. Oh, no. It wasn’t going to end like this. I followed him.

  When we got outside on the sidewalk, he abruptly turned to face me.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, but once away from Laudine some of his edge had dissipated, replaced by curiosity.

  I watched him for a few seconds. His face was a bit worn, but not hard to look at. It would be quite handsome if he smiled. I doubted he was older than his late thirties. Deep underneath I could sense an earthy wildness, something tightly controlled but ready to strike like a stalking leopard.

  “My name is Nyx.”

  He raised an eyebrow, obviously speculating. “And you’re a witch?”

  “If you say so.”

  “The man you burned said so.”

  “He shouldn’t have grabbed me.”

  He frowned slightly. “Why are you here?”

  “My business.”

  “Not entirely.” He left me and climbed in a black SUV and drove away. I stared after him. He had disturbed me on a level I didn’t understand. There had been men in my life, but this one . . . I shrugged the thought away. I’d deal with it later.

  When I returned to the kitchen, Laudine stood in the middle of the floor, shivering.

  “What in the Earth Mother’s name is wrong with you?” I threw up my hands in disgust. “You’re a witch and you can defend yourself. Why are you afraid of him?”

  Laudine staggered to her chair and plopped down. I sat and waited for her to calm. When finally relaxed, she picked up her teacup with both hands and drank. She set it down on the saucer and laid her hands flat on the table. “It’s a long story. It involves the Earth Mother, magic, and a demon hiding in the ruins.” She let out a long sigh. “And that Etienne is more dangerous than any of those.” She closed her eyes. “He’s immune to magic.”

  Chapter 7

  “Immune to magic? How?” I’d never met a person who was immune to magic, though I’d heard it was possible under rare and specific instances. A string of spelled beads from the Sisters had certainly kept me from using magic to escape.

  Laudine leane
d back in her chair, her eyes filled with tears. “He’s more than immune. If you hit him with a spell, it bounces back tenfold. I know. The spell I used almost killed me when I tried.” She lowered her head. “To protect myself, of course. He terrifies me.”

  “That’s not immune. If it bounces back, it’s a shield of some sort.” She should have known that.

  She shook her head. “Did you see a spell around him?”

  “No.” She was right. I’d have felt it if he’d been spelled. If he was immune, it was for some other reason.

  Laudine wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Come with me. I need to show you something.”

  I followed her out the front door. Herschel groaned, but he came at my heels. He hadn’t slimed her house, but slobber began to drip as soon as he hit the sidewalk. Laudine didn’t bother to lock up behind her. I suspect any trespasser would get a surprise, though.

  The pink morning through which I’d driven had morphed into a sunny day, and a clear sky promised it would remain that way. For a brief second, I wondered about the weather in SF, but the thought drifted away in the warm air.

  Laudine set a ground-eating pace as we walked across the cul-de-sac to a big boxy building that might have been a warehouse at one time. The doors were boarded with plywood and it had no signs, except an orange one taped by the door that said DEMOLITION PERMIT followed by a lot of fine print.

  Laudine didn’t hesitate as she went around to the back of the building. Like good puppies, Herschel and I followed. When I rounded the corner of the building, I stopped. Before me stood a long, narrow street in ruins. So many buildings had crumbled into that simple roadway it was impassable by car.

  I walked closer, threading my way around piles of glass and debris. It was as if time had suddenly turned malevolent, overcome its human keepers, and crushed their dwellings.

  Laudine flung out a hand. “This is the Barrows. From here north are square miles of ruins, some like this, some better, some completely collapsed. Near the center is the heart of evil—the Zombie Zone, they call it. That’s where the demon hides.”

  The demon. My lessons in earth magic involved the Earth Mother, her power, and living in the natural world around me. There were no angels, no demons to cloud things. Had I missed something?

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d seen ruins before. I’d walked through many from the Middle East to Southeast Asia, some ancient, some blasted to rubble by modern warfare.

  “What caused this?” I demanded.

  “Earthquake. Mass exodus sixty or seventy years ago. Followed by a slow decline. Some witches say the Earth Mother drove people out. I know the Mother deliberately hides the ruins from people living uptown with a spell. Beyond that . . .” She shrugged.

  Laudine’s face became a mask of pure hatred. “And the demon!” She spit out the word. “He’s not really a demon. He’s just a creature, a monster from another world. Brought here and held prisoner by the Earth Mother. The Earth Mother who betrayed us, her witches, her daughters . . .” Her face crumpled and she gave one sob. “And I believe that demon has killed Marisol. I am little threat to him, but she . . .” She drew herself up and headed back to her shop.

  I stared down the wrecked street a minute longer. Mostly I wanted to know what Laudine based her claim on. She seemed like a pretty unreliable witness. Her words and actions so far were so unwitchlike they raised suspicions. I really needed to investigate the claim that the Earth Mother hid the ruins stretching before me with a spell, too. That was beyond anything I’d ever heard. Herschel came to stand beside me.

  “What do you think, buddy? Is there a killer demon down there?”

  Herschel growled low in his throat.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” I’d reserve judgment about other things. The Barrows, a demon, Marisol—there was more to this story than the few words she’d given me.

  For the first time in my life, I regretted the excuses, bogus illnesses, and outright blatant lies I used to skip every class on witchcraft I could. The geography and history of the nonmagical world brought me straight-A grades. Math? Piece of cake. I’d been told by Gran my desire not to be a witch, not to play by the rules, would hurt me someday.

  I followed Laudine back to her place.

  When we returned to her kitchen, she seemed calmer and made more tea. I wondered if she’d let me buy her a coffeepot. When she sat again, she began her tale.

  “I don’t know all the details of the Barrows ruins and the collapse. That’s history. More current is that the Earth Mother herself brought the demon here several years ago for unknown reasons. Aiakós is his name. He is hers. Her toy. She plays games we cannot comprehend. She protects him.

  “There were two other witches like myself living in the Barrows and now they are gone. Last year when the pressure to leave began, I appealed to the High Witch Abigail. She, too, very politely told me I should go away. I will not.”

  “Why?” I asked. I’d grown uncomfortable with this. One of the reasons I’d left Georgia was coven politics. If Laudine’s statements were true and involved the High Witch, it went far beyond political scheming.

  “This is my home. I’ve been here for over forty years.”

  That seemed a simple enough reason. In her place, I’d fight, too. Experience made me cautious. I’m not a truthsayer, a witch who can discern lies, but Laudine wasn’t telling me everything.

  She continued. “You saw that warehouse across the cul-de-sac? That was once a bar called the Goblin Den. Then it was a fancy restaurant.”

  “People would come all the way down here for a restaurant?”

  “The demon Aiakós has a son who was born in this world. They call him Michael. People, his followers, his worshippers, would come down here for the demon’s son. You will understand when you see him.”

  “What does it all have to do with Marisol? Why do you believe the demon has killed her?”

  “He feared her. Marisol was the only one here in the Barrows with the power to defy him. Other than the High Witch—and she will not.”

  A tiny breeze brought the odor of rotting vegetation through the open back door. It didn’t smell clean and natural like in the swamp.

  “Marisol had your reaction to my harassment,” Laudine continued. “She chased off any who came and bothered me. She stood up to Etienne, even though I warned her about him. They had words. She even went to Michael, the demon’s son, and asked for help. He seemed appalled that it was happening, but she went missing shortly after that.”

  I smiled inside. I could picture beautiful, powerful Marisol on a righteous crusade. “I’ll ask again, Laudine, why not go to Abigail, the High Witch?”

  “Because”—she lowered her voice to a bare whisper—“I believe Abigail is protecting the demon. I believe—I fear—she has betrayed her witches.”

  I remained quiet, absorbing the information. I had difficulty believing the High Witch, who I was told had direct access to the Earth Mother, would overlook the murder of one of her own. Other than that, Laudine’s story seemed plausible enough. Still, I’d heard the hesitation in her voice at times. She’d paused too often, as if trying to decide what to tell me.

  Laudine had an apartment upstairs on the second floor, where she lived, but she led me to what had been Marisol’s room beside the kitchen. She told me I could stay there. It was cozy, had a small bathroom attached, and reeked of my sister. Her personal scent clung to everything. Her penchant for light colors, blues, and whites were evident in the curtains, bedspread, and rugs on the floor. Clearly, she found something of value in Laudine’s lessons—or something else she found here—and planned to stay a while. Her clothing hanging in the closet was comfortable but very fashionable—as I remembered her. I searched her things, trying to find her Grimoire, her witch’s diary. It would contain an account of what she’d been doing in Duivel. It would be locked and spelled, but knowing Marisol, she might have left me a key. She loved and trusted me. But it wasn’t there. Either she’d hidden it well or
someone had taken it.

  I had stopped at a discount store on the way to Duivel, but my bag of things, jeans, T-shirts, and personal items, took very little space. I had a whole closet of clothes in San Francisco anyway.

  On the table by the bed was a photo of me and Gran, taken before I began my walk on the wilder side of life. I looked so young, barely a teen, even though I had thought myself grown. I don’t usually dwell on things I can’t change or life as it might have been. I’d watched friends die and I’d killed to protect them and myself. I had had lovers, though none could be called the love of my life. Given my nature, I didn’t have much hope for finding a Prince Charming who would tolerate my eccentric habits. I had part ownership in a profitable California business that would remain profitable if I could get back to it. I was satisfied with my life as it unfolded—if I could only find Marisol unharmed.

  Laudine had come to stand in the doorway. “What’s that?”

  She nodded at the soft cloth that wrapped my gun to keep it clean. I’d laid it on the bed as I emptied my bag.

  “That’s a Smith & Wesson nine-millimeter.” I liked my gun a lot, even if I hadn’t used it in a while. I practiced regularly so I wouldn’t lose my touch.

  “A gun?” Laudine sounded shocked. “You’re a witch.”

  “I’ve been too many places where magic alone wouldn’t be enough to protect me. Look at the bright side. I can always shoot Etienne if magic doesn’t work.” I unwrapped the gun.

  “You think Etienne can be shot?” I heard hope in her voice.

  I had to stifle that quickly. “I’m not here to kill anyone. I’m here to find Marisol. But he probably shouldn’t get in my way.”

  She stared for a moment, then turned away. “I’ve made some lunch,” she called behind her. “Come and eat.”

  I’d hoped she’d give me some clues over lunch, but she remained quiet. Herschel wanted out and I let him go. He could take care of himself.

  “Who was the last person to see Marisol?” I asked, breaking the silence.