Chapter Fourteen
“Are you sure you’re up for this meeting?” Fel asks.
A few days after the attack, I’m still babying my shoulder and taking antibiotics for an acute case of bacterial infection that set in my lungs. Forty-eight hours in the hospital being pumped with powerful meds, and a shoulder popped into socket later, I’m dragging myself to a council meeting. I could use a week of recovery at the least, but the Djinn aren’t going to wait, so we can’t afford to either.
“I’m a fast healer, and we don’t have the luxury of time on our side.”
“Where’s your jailer? This is the farthest away I’ve seen him since you were in the hospital,” Sacha says.
“I think it’s sweet,” Fel states.
“More like terrifying if you try to get between the two of you,” Sacha argues.
My face heats. Things between Cristobal and I had been shaky at best since I woke up in the hospital.
“Trust me, he’s around, and there’s a reason the meeting is being held here at the mansion.”
“I can’t blame the guy. Things could’ve been so much worse,” Fel says.
“Are you fully riding the Team Cristobal train, or what?” I give a weak laugh.
“I’m all for anyone who puts your first. Because you never will. Haven’t you ever wondered why I was never upset you left?” Fel replies.
“Yes,” I admit.
“It was the one completely selfish act you’d ever allowed yourself. Even back then, you felt the weight of the future. We all knew you’d be named a successor. Mémé pushed you harder, forced you to take on more responsibilities sooner, and judged you on a completely different scale than everyone else in the family. I watched you lose a lot of who you were after we graduated high school. Then you met Cristobal, and I saw the old Lou.”
I look to Sacha. “Is this true?”
Sacha clears her throat. “I’m the last person to talk about letting family expectations color who you are. I was in the same boat. I always thought we remained so close because of that factor. When you left, it felt like I’d been betrayed and left to atrophy alone. It also sparked a fire inside of me that grew. So … Thank you for being brave enough to venture out into the world and see what else was there.”
“Do you mean that?” Hurting her has always been one of my biggest regrets.
“Positive.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“Now that we have the after-school special moment out of the way … Fel’s right. You always put yourself last when you’re placed in charge of people. Without Cristobal, you’d run yourself into the ground, and continue to be self-sacrificing.”
“That’s not what I’m being at all.”
“Yes you are,” they say in unison.
Caw. I glare at the trees where a Raven I know to be Cristobal is perched, keeping an eye on our visiting guests incognito. The sound draws me back to my time in the Fae lands when I’d almost chosen the wrong door. Was he there even then? “You’ve got some explaining to do, Cortez. As soon as we get out the boiling water threatening to cook us.”
“Even the animals here agree with us, Lou. Stop being so stubborn and realize we only want to help,” Sacha says.
“I refuse to change who I am. I tried that once, and it didn’t mesh well. I ended up running for the hills, remember? This time they get me warts and all.”
“No one expects that. But you can change the way you approach things,” Fel responds quickly.
“How so?”
“Look before you leap, and let someone else take the lead when there’s danger. You’re not indestructible or so easily replaced,” she says gently.
Her worry echoes Cristobal’s.
“I was never meant to be a princess in a tower.”
“No, but there’s got to be a medium between first on the frontline and hidden away in the castle.”
Her words strike a chord. “I’ll try my best to find that place.” It’s the best I can give her. She smiles, and I know, for now, it’s enough. I feel Cristobal’s contentment through our link. It hits a nerve. He has an annoying habit of constantly getting what he wants. I sniff indignantly and put a wall up between us in the bond. I’m not above being petty or keeping him off kilter. The lord is too used to getting his way. I’m his partner, not another member of the court who must obey his every command. The conversation from the hospital remains in the front of my mind as we move into the house to prepare for the meeting.
Two Days Prior
“I’m going to get a complex if you keep getting injured while I’m away.”
I swim up through the layers, toward the voice. My fingers twitch, and I fight against the urge to return to slumber. My lids seem to have weights on them as I struggle to peel them up. Cristobal’s face comes into view, and my soul rejoices.
“Hi,” I croak.
He bends over me, kissing my forehead. “Let me get you some water.” He disappears momentarily and returns with a large pink cup with a straw. Using the button on the side of my bed, he helps me sit up and holds the cup to my lips.
I take a drink. The cool water coats my mouth and throat. I moan my approval.
“Thank you. What happened?”
“I should be asking you that. Why would you take on such a tremendous task by yourself?”
“I had help.” I regret the white lie immediately.
“The sorry state you arrived in says otherwise. What were you thinking using that much of your magic.”
“If I hadn’t neither of us would be here because we’d be fighting a war.”
“You can’t protect everyone—”
“I know you aren’t insinuating I should’ve left the girls out to dry.”
“No, I’m telling you I’m not fooled by your martyrdom. You used them as a vehicle to help you channel, but you left their power untapped.”
“Because they were the second line of defense had I failed.”
“You cannot continue to take risks like that.”
“Why am I more important than anyone else?”
“A queen is meant to be protected. Not because she is weak, but because she’s far too valuable to risk.”
“Pretty words that mean nothing. I was raised to fight for what I believe in, and my people.”
“And you have. Now let them return the favor.”
I grunt and wince, immediately regretting it.
His look screams, ‘See.’
“It’s poor manners, kicking a girl when she’s down,” I croak.
“I’m not kicking you. I’m trying to make you see reason.”
“I’m not conceding this time. You’ve gotten most of what you’ve wanted since I came back—”
“And you haven’t?”
“No,” I say firmly.
Shock reaches us.
“I’ve met you halfway and compromised left and right with the understanding that we are literally two different species who think in different ways. You’ve asked me countless times to keep this in mind. Can you honestly say you do the same? This is who I am. I won’t spend the rest of our time together biting my tongue and feeling encroached upon. I protect the people I love. That means putting myself in the line of danger. It can’t be helped. Stepping in as Lady and Matriarch are going to exacerbate that fact, not lessen it. I ask you to give me the same respect I give you. For a modern man, you have some archaic inclinations when it comes to love and relationships. “
He looks offended. “I’m a gentleman with decorum.”
“No one would deny that.” I can feel the wheels in his head turn. After a quick knock, the nurse enters.
“It’s good to see you awake, Ms. Esçhete.” Her presence ends the awkward conversation. Worn out from the emotions, I welcome the reprieve. This is far from over.
***
Present
I take my time finishing my tea, making the council wait for me to begin my speech. It’s a trick I’ve learned from the court. No one does polite insults the way they can. This might be their show, but we’re in my territory, and that gives me some home court advantage. I set the empty cup on its saucer and clear my throat.
“As Felicite shared with you briefly, we’re dealing with a Djinn. For eons, they’ve searched for a way to break through the veil between our worlds. It seems they’ve finally succeeded.”
“What do you they want?” Vale asks.
“To make us suffer and take over. I was able to hold off the inevitable by resealing the tears, but it’s a temporary solution. The recent rashes of disturbances are connected to the breach, but we’re not sure how or why. Information on the Djinn is few and far between. Thanks to Cristobal, we’ve found an expert on the subject, Baal Shem Issur Shafir.”
“A what, my dear?” Meadow asks.
“A Baal Shem, a Jewish holy man, similar to a rabbi who specializes in history. He’s agreed to educate and assist us.”
“Wait, are we talking about a Jewish exorcist?” Zephirin snorts.
“Issur is much more than that. An expert on the Djinn with access to rare and accurate documentation, he’s the best chance we have. He’s come up with an interesting theory I’d like you to allow him to share.” I grab a scone from the three-tier tray and wait as they talk among themselves. The high-tea setting is informal, but the decisions are life-altering. After a time, Mémé turns to me.
“We’ll hear him out,” Vale says, speaking for the rest of the group.
“Thank you.”
“Please send Baal Shem into the parlor.” A few moments later the pocket doors slide open. The expressions range from shocked to uncomfortable when they realize I’ve summoned him without saying a word. It’s almost comical. At five-foot-five-inches, the thin man with a shock of white hair under his wide-brim, black hat should seem frail. Two mid-length payots curl along either side of his long, thin face. His black suit is modest. If one passed him on the street, they wouldn’t look twice.
It’s in direct contrast with the aura of power that surrounds him. The intensity in his dark gaze labels him a man not to be trifled with.
I stand. “Baal Shem Issur thank you for joining us today.”
“We must all join together in the pursuit of vanquishing this evil. I’ve spent my entire life battling the devil and his offspring, but at no time have they been closer to prevailing. They have one goal, conquering the Earth, and always they are seeking a way to achieve this.”
“Please sit.” I steer him to an over-sized brown leather chair.
“How do you think this happened?” Vale asks.
“Sealed places by Yahweh keep most demons below. However, Djinn are different. They have their own universe. Yaweh knew they needed more to contain them. I make it my business to know the state of the seals at all times. They remain unbroken. Which is puzzling.”
“How is this happening, then?” Fel asks.
“They’ve found a shortcut if you will. There are demonic artifacts capable of attacking the veil. It would take time and immense negative energy, but for them, waiting is what they do best.”
“Negative energy?” Mémé tilts her head slightly.
“Human corruption is fuel for them. The three wishes are a way into a person’s life and ultimately their soul. They offer a chance for more in exchange for favors. They start small, allowing them to build trust. Then the depravity grows. The Djinn will claim he requires more personal sacrifice to generate the power needed to achieve their desires. What people are capable of doing to get what they want would shock you. It turns good people into vile, unrecognizable strangers. Ask yourself this question: what wouldn’t you do to get everything you ever wanted?”
“A hell of a lot,” someone mumbles.
“How can we figure out what this artifact is?” Mémé asks, getting straight to the point.
“I have access to texts, outlining them.” He pauses and twines his fingers. “I believe it’s best to go straight to the source in this matter. We must learn the name of the Djinn, and summon him to get more information and narrow our search. I fear what may happen if we leave it too long—”
“Wait. This thing put Lou in the hospital after a short encounter and yet you want to face it head on?” Zephirin says slowly.
“Yes. Yahweh has provided us with a clue. The woman who was possessed is currently in the hospital. A deliverance would allow us to free her from entrapment and discover the name.” Charlotte was rushed to the hospital with a case of exhaustion, dehydration, and shock after a freak low-level earthquake caused a house to shift, due to a fault that had lain dormant for years. People will go to great lengths to explain impossible things, in what they believe is a logical manner.
“Baal Shem. With all due respect, I highly doubt her high profile husband would—” Sacha begins.
He holds up a hand, silencing her in mid-sentence. “Yahweh will smooth the way. We must act quickly. Today. Father Axson will be assisting me locally.”
“What do you need from us?” Mémé asks.
“Your support when it comes time to repair what’s been damaged in the barrier between our worlds,” he says.
“I take it you have a plan, Mr. Issur?” Meadow says.
“Yes. One I’m ready to set into motion immediately.”
“I believe I speak for the majority of us when I say let us proceed. Those opposed?”
“Nay.” Zephirin’s objection is expected.
“Those in agreement?”
“Yay.”
“The yays have it. Tell us what we can do to help, Baal Shem,” I say.
***
Wooden bowls line the food tray which serves as a makeshift altar. Charlotte’s still form rests on the bed. The rise and fall of her chest and the steady beep of her monitors are the only indications she’s alive. It’s a crime to see a woman so full of a life cut low. With severely chapped lips, mottled skin, and sunken in cheeks, she’s ravaged. Even if she gained her new husband and wealth with wishes, she doesn’t deserve this. Baal Shem prays quietly in Hebrew as he anoints himself with oil. He picks up the white tallit with fringed edges, and a blue and gray striped design, kisses the prayer shawl, and bows. I wonder at the symbolism as he wraps it around his shoulders.
This is a glimpse into a world I’ve never been a part of. Father Axson steps inside and closes the door behind him.
“The staff is used to me being here to visit with the patients. The nurses usually make their rounds on this floor about every hour. Between the distraction spell and our lookouts, we’re fine to begin.” Father Axson turns his attention to Sacha, Fel, and I. “Are you ready to hold her in place?” He insists using our powers to keep her immobile is more humane than the usual method of tying her to the bed. It still feels wrong to restrict someone this way. I double check the silencing spell before nodding.
“We are.”
Father places his brown leather case on a chair and removes his purple stole. He kisses the strip of fabric before placing it around his neck, removes his cross, and a bottle of holy water. I watch as his face becomes serious. The sparkle in his eyes is replaced with determination as he prepares himself for the battle to come. He pulls out his Bible, as Baal Shem begins to sing, rocking back in forth in a continuous bow.
Charlotte sits up so fast I’m surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. Her eyes pop open.
“What are you doing in here?” She clutches the sheet up to her chest, sounding like a lost child.
“Do you remember me, Charlotte?” Father Axon steps forward. “We’ve talked before.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “None of you should be in here. This is my room. I want you all gone.” Her voice turns shrill.
“Your tricks won’t work on us. No one is coming in here,” Father Axson says calmly.
“You’re crazy,” she whispers, shaking her head. Her lower lip trembles. Her knuckles turn white where she clutches the thin sheet. She plays the victim well. If I hadn’t seen her reenact a scene from a few days ago, I’d be inclined to help her.
“We are speaking with the entity inside of Charlotte now,” Father Axson says. His deep baritone is clear and commanding.
Baal Shem lights a stick of incense. The sharp scent of sulfur fills the room. Charlotte’s lip twitches as he waves the smoke around her bed, fumigating. The process is meant to coax the spirit out of hiding. We received a crash course on Jewish Exorcism on the way over. It differs from the traditional Christian practice in a number of ways.
Her eyes bleed black, and she growls, gnashing her teeth. “You can’t stop what’s put into motion, holy men,” she says in a deep, gravelly voice.
“Speak your name, and leave this child of God,” Father commands. Charlotte jerks. We focus on keeping her arms and legs pressed into the mattress. The bed rattles. A crack forms the length of the ceiling to the floor.
“She’s mine. She made the deal and asked for this. They all do.”
“We will break your hold.” Father ignores his comments and begins to read the Bible.
Charlotte begins to speak in a harsh language. She jerks her head to the left and right, fighting our grip.
“I command you to tell us your name.” A lump forms in Charlotte’s throat. An unholy snarl vibrates in her chest. She snaps her teeth. The bed comes off the floor and slams down in a rhythmic pattern. The overhead lights flicker and the blinds open and close.
“Ah. Aaaah.” The sound is violently ripped from Charlotte’s throat.
Baal Shem flicks holy water onto her. Steam rises off her body like dry ice has been dropped into water. Her skin sizzles and blisters.
“Ag. Ag.” She chokes on the sounds. “Agares.”
Baal Shem begins a haunting wailing of the Djinn’s name. He bows repeatedly. Her body convulses. Windows shatter inward, coating us with glass. We scream as the glass knicks us. The Djinn sends out a jolt of power that slams the three of us to the wall, breaking our hold. Charlotte dashes to the large window, pausing briefly. She peers over her shoulder at us with sorrow-filled eyes.
“It wasn’t worth it. You have to destroy the box.” She turns mechanically and steps out the window as if she expected to walk on air.
The loud thud as her body hits the ground is quickly followed by screams that set us into motion. I push myself off the floor and stumble across the room on Bambi’s legs. No one can know we were here for this. I’m numb as I repair the damage and help the men collect their equipment. Tears blind me as we leave the room under a veil of spells. Self-preservation wars with self-loathing as I force one foot in front of the other. We’d killed her as surely as if we’d thrown her out the window.
Silence remains as we wait for the elevator. I fight the urge to give in to tears. I didn’t like her, but life is precious, and hers ended badly. An alarm sounds as nurses rush into the room and panic begins. The elevator door opens with a ding. We step inside. I’m a Cyberman from a Doctor Who episode. Emotionally bankrupt, running on instincts, and focused on the mission. Whatever my personal feelings, this is about preventing the end of the world. It trumps everything else, right? It’s hard to tell when my brain is on overload. The gentle caress of Renee’s consciousness against my own makes me smile. He’s letting me know he’s here. Able to blend in and charm, he was the perfect choice for our lookout.
We walk out to the insanity of police sirens, crowds, and security rushing in to provide order. We were the stone in the pond that caused these ripples.
“If that was the right thing, why do I feel like a murderer?”
“Do not let the enemy weaken you. He wants to distract you from your purpose. Always remember, he’s the one who caused this. We will end this. Do not let Charlotte’s last gift be in vain.”
“What gift was that, Father? All I saw as pain and despair.”
“Hope. With the name and the clue, she gave us the most powerful gift of all next to love.”
“He is right. I believe I know the artifact of which she spoke,” Baal Shem says as we walk across the road to the parking lot. “It is a puzzle box. Fitting for a Djinn, isn’t it? It’s an intricate creation made up of tiny pieces that must’ve been gathered over the ages.”
“Demons have nothing but time. That’s what makes them so dangerous. They never forgive, and they’ll wait for the perfect moment to strike every time,” Father added. “What you’re all feeling right now is the aftereffect of being exposed to the demonic. This will pass in time. Keep your faith close.”
“How do we find the box, and what do after we get our hands on it?” I ask.
“We must consult the books,” Baal Shem replies.
Two steps forward and a million back. No one speaks as we make our way to the church van and climb inside. I’m grateful that Father is driving. I tune out as we pull onto the road and I watch the scenery go by. The sun sets in a beautiful display of peach, lavender, royal purple, and blush, yet all I feel is cold. Resting my head against the cool window, I welcome the night. A thump on the windshield draws my attention from the safe cloud of nothingness I’d allowed my brain to sink into.
“Suicidal bug,” Sacha mumbles.
I snicker.
Three more splats make me tense. Insects begin to pelt the car like hail. The wipers swish furiously, but they’re no match for the carnage of carcasses. Fog rushes toward us, effectively cutting us off from the rest of the world as visibility shrinks to less than a foot in front of us. A body appears in the middle of the road. Flying into the air, it slams down onto the hood. We veer off the road. The long-limbed creature’s claws clack over the windshield. It offers us a jagged, rotting-tooth grin. It disappears from view. Pop. The front tires blow. The van swerves as Father fights to gain control.
We rumbled to a stop in the grass on the side of the road.
“Is everyone okay?” Fel asks.
A chorus of ‘yes’ comes back to her.
“It’s trying to stop us. It’s frightened,” Father marvels.
“This means we’re on the right path,” Baal Shem replies.
“We have to get out of the car.” I fumble with my seatbelt and shove the door open as my instincts scream at me to move faster. The thick fog keeps us close together while we move away from the van. A semi slams into the side, dragging the vehicle away into the dense white. I scream, jerking back. If we’d been slower …
I can feel the court racing toward us.
“The others will be here soon,” I say. We just have to make it until then.
An eerie howl goes up in the distance. Others join. We shrink back. In the distance, I make out vague shapes moving toward us.
“Do you see them?” Sacha asks.
“Yes.”
“Hell Hounds,” Father whispers.
Close enough to view, the black dogs crouch, baring their fangs. Saliva drips from the pointed tips like venom, and their red eyes pierce the darkness. Without the holy men, we’re lost. Their safety comes before mine. The adrenaline coursing through my veins tricks me into believing I have energy. Prepared to take advantage of the pain blockers, I come up with a tentative plan. Planting my feet, I erect a barrier between us and the dogs from hell.
“On three, I want you to run. The others are close. We just have to make it until they arrive. Fel, stay with them. Sacha and I will lead them away.”
“What? I’m not leaving you.”
“Felicite. Please.”
She sneers. “Fine.”
“One. Two. Three.” I shove the barrier forward, sending them flying back like bowling pins. The sickening smack upon impact gives me a moment of happiness.
“Feu!” Sacha calls. A wall of wire leaps up, putting a physical barrier between them and us. We dart off in opposite directions. I can hear their massive paws pounding the ground as they resume the chase.
“Terre!” A wall of dirt rises. Loud yelps tell me I’ve hit my target. Still, more panting remains too close for comfort.
Archangel Michael, defend us. I pray like I never have before as my lungs burn, my legs shake, and fear rises up inside of me. A brilliant light flashes. I stumble and throw my arm up to shield my eyes from further damage. A large, flaming sword slices down, cutting a path through the fog. Stunned, I turn to Sacha. She grabs my hand, and we run full tilt down the cleared space. I glance back to see a form made of pure light wielding the weapon once more. The winged figure cuts the dogs down with a few quick blows.
“Dove.”
I’m swept into Cristobal’s arms. Eye ablaze and fangs distended, my court is a formidable wall between us and danger.
“We felt your distress, but I had to use magic to get here to you. There was a powerful barrier.” He cups the back of my head, and I bury my face in his neck, allowing myself a moment to enjoy being alive.
“The others?”
“Safe. I already had Larkin, Percival, and Miles carry them off.”
I relax. “Thank you. All of you.” My voice shakes.
“You’re dead on your feet,” Cristobal remarks.
“It’s been a rough week,” I say sarcastically.
He moves to bite his wrist, and I shake my head and wiggle. He lowers me to the ground.
“We should go. I’ll be fine. I just need rest.”
“Blood will help boost your energy.” Cristobal holds out his wrist.
I turn my head away. “It’s not a V-8, Cristobal. I don’t need it that bad.”
“Because you have to be at death’s door to drink from me?” Cristobal glowers down at me. He’s not used to being opposed.
“I didn’t say that. You’re overreacting.” I refuse to let drinking blood become a crutch I constantly lean on.
“No. You are clinging to outdated beliefs.”
“Let me. You’re carrying around some long gone practices yourself.” His anger is a hot wave. He’s shaken by the close call. So am I.
Marcellus clears his throat. “We should go.”
“We’ll send someone to retrieve the van and replace it for them,” Cristobal says banking the fire in his voice.
“I’ve got Sacha,” Renee offers, turning his bright grin her way. “It’s like a piggyback ride at warp speed.”
She laughs. “I guess there’s a first time for everything. We’ll see you back at the house.”
She’s gone with Ruby and Ada trailing them before I can comment. As the rest of the court disperses, Cristobal scoops me up under my knees. He’s far too dignified for a piggyback ride. I giggle. He smiles down at me. “Hold on.” He takes off like a bullet from the gun. I close my eyes as the world rushes by in a rush of air.
We end up in the gardens.
“Do we have to finish this now?”
“Yes, we’ve already left it too long.”
“We’re bonded. I’m becoming Lady of your Court. Do you really need more from me right now?”
“Don’t you see you’re only delaying the inevitable?”
“How do you figure that?”
“Living in our home, attending our celebrations and following our customs, you’ll be one of us. Blood exchanges will be commonplace.”
“To you and the others because you’re a vampire. I am a witch.”
“No. You were. What you are now is more. This bond changed us both in ways we’ve still yet to comprehend. I need to know you can handle what might come with that.”
“It’s a little late to question my ability to keep it together, don’t you think?”
The elephant in the room resurfaces. We may be adjusting now, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he bonded us without my permission. It’s not a choice so easily forgiven, forgotten, or moved on from.
“Are you going to bring that up every time we disagree?”
“When you forget I didn’t choose this situation for myself or come into it with all the facts and my eyes open, yes.”
“I expect you to see the big picture.”
“I do. Mine just happens to look otherwise.”
“It’s my job to keep you safe. How can I do that when you fight me constantly?”
“I can take care of myself. We face things together. You linked yourself to a modern woman who rules in her own right. You have to make adjustments for me, too.”
I will not lose myself for anyone. I worked too damn hard to figure myself out.
“We should go back inside. They’ll be waiting.” His voice is soft. He’s dropping it for now. I’m smart enough to know it’s been shelved temporarily. I can’t help but wonder if the price of ruling will be our love.