Short Fiction- Blood and Shadow

Blood and Shadows

-Morgana Lugus Investigations-

A series of three slow, timid knocks rang through my office to signal the start of my next case.

With a sigh, I slipped the book I’d been immersed in into my desk and straightened out.

An unusual tension ran through me as I sat fully in my chair, though I quickly forced it away.

“Come in,” I called.

As the door opened, a pale ghost of a woman was slowly revealed.

Her entire body was a bundle of tension and fear while she slipped inside, and her eyes were constantly on the move.

Her standing stock-still just inside my office gave me time to really inspect her.

Without the pallor, she probably had lightly tanned skin.

Her eyes, when they were still enough for me to see, were a nearly luminescent ice-blue.

Dark waves of auburn hair rode from the crown of her head to just below her shoulders, streaks of scarlet dyed in occasionally.

I got the impression as she started squirming and looking at the door that she would turn and run screaming if she saw so much as a shadow.

“Can I… help you?”

She literally jumped at my voice, her gaze jerking to focus on me in a wide-eyed, shocked stare.

“A-a-are y-yo-you Morg-Morgan-Morgana-”

“My name’s Morgana Lugus,” I quickly interrupted, taking pity on the stuttering bundle of nerves standing in my office.

I let myself slouch slightly, hoping to placate some of the frightened deer look she was giving me.

“Can I ask who you are?”

She returned to nervously looking around, and it was then that I became fully aware of the energy running off her in waves.

It was a miasma of fear and negativity, so strong it made me twitchy, too.

I found myself resisting the urge to grab a weapon and look around for whatever she thought might be with us in the room.

Sighing, I snapped my fingers.

She jumped again, bringing her focus back to me.

Her surprise broke the concentrated psychic poison, the air briefly clearing and giving me a fresh breath.

“There’s a ward around this building, miss. Whatever’s after you, it can’t get in here,” I swore.

At that, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, which made me all the more curious on what my day was about to become.

“Why don’t we start with yer name, and go from there?” I asked.

With a gentle wave, I gestured to one of the chairs opposite my desk.

“Please, have a seat.”

Still staring at me, as though worried I’d leap over the mahogany and bite off her head, she moved into the seat.

Even when she was settled, she was shaking like a leaf and looking like she was about to explode at any second.

“M-my n-n-name is… My name’s Angel… Angelica O’Brian,” she managed.

“Alright, Angel. What’s happening?” I asked, letting myself relax more into my chair.

“This man… he called himself Tenshi… He told me to come talk to you,” she said, her nerves seeming to finally quiet, now that we were talking.

“Ten sent you?”

The intrigue grew.

I had no idea who “Tenshi” actually was, but he’d proven to be a useful associate from somewhere in the Lower Realms.

He’d been useful in a decent chunk of my cases dealing with the monsters that crept through shadows.

If he’d sent that woman to me, something was definitely worth paying attention to.

“Alright. Talk to me.”

“A-are you r-really a… I’ve heard stories that you’re a woman with… that you’re a-”

“If the word you’re looking for is witch, I’m that, yes, among other things,” I cut in. “Also a certified private investigator.”

“It’s just, you know… I don’t even know why I came here. But he said you handle things like this all the time, but… Well, I guess if that is real, witches aren’t really that crazy, but still-”

“I promise that whatever your problem is, chances are good it won’t be something new to me. So I want you to take a deep, calming breath, first, Angel.”

She did, her tremors becoming slightly less violent.

“Alright. Now tell me what’s happened.”

Her eyes slipped closed, and a heavy sigh escaped her.

As her breath slipped out, the air became even less toxic, and she slumped into her seat.

“My daughter was kidnapped. By a man who I think is a demon,” she started tentatively.

“Okay. Is there any reason you think he’s a demon?”

Thankfully, she didn’t become defensive.

Apparently, my tone had conveyed clearly that it wasn’t disbelief in demons that made me ask.

Living part-time in Arkham, Massachusetts for most of my life, as well as what I did as a profession, made outright disbelief impossible.

Especially given how many of the literal damned I’d personally pissed off.

That didn’t, however, mean what she was dealing with was automatically a demon.

Only the rest of her story would let me know if it was really a monster at all, to begin with, and if so, what kind.

Going in prepared to face a demon and finding myself against an Unseelie faery or a vampire would be a good way to get killed, fast.

“I… I promised...”

She cut herself off to take another breath, but it did nothing to take the anguish off her face.

“I promised her to that… that monster!” she sobbed. “I didn’t think… I mean, who would actually believe… but… but now-”

“Calm down,” I soothed.

Helping her along, I released a small burst of relaxing energy, the air becoming lightly scented like wildflowers as she took a shuddering breath.

Somehow, her broken fragment of a thought had already put my nerves on edge.

“Slow down, breathe, and start from the beginning.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “Fifteen years ago, my life was going to hell. After years at a security firm, my boss’s kid made a pass at me, and I rejected him on the spot. He fudged numbers, made up rumours, and did all kinds of other sleazy things in retaliation, and I got fired. Without a job, the mooching asshole of a husband ran off. I was at rock bottom, as far as I was concerned.”

I nodded, already pretty sure where this was going.

I was entirely unsurprised to find myself quickly proven right.

“So, one day, I found myself in this little shithole bar downtown, wondering if it’d be quicker to jump off a bridge when we were going through a drought, or to eat a bullet. I decided a gun would be faster, but then, just as I’m leaving-”

“A mysterious, handsome stranger showed up that you couldn’t get your mind off, right?” I guessed, though I needn’t have bothered, really.

“Sort of. He wasn’t so much handsome as… it’s kind of hard to describe. He had the looks of someone who belonged in that kind of bar even less than me. This guy just walked right up to me as I’m getting up, and he tells me…”

She gave a low, bitter laugh, and her eyes fell down to the floor.

“He tells me that, if I’m going to drown in a fiery lake, I should at least party a little first. So, obviously, I thought he was a nut job. Then, he pulls a piece of old, crumbling paper out of thin air. Told me it was a superior contract, whatever the hell that meant. Said I’ll get fifteen years of solid good luck, and all I have to do is give him my firstborn in return.”

“I can guess the rest,” I groaned.

“I was drunk,” she continued, trying to justify selling a person’s soul.

Not that I could blame her, really.

“And I was never planning on having a kid,” she continued. “My doctor told me I was totally infertile. No chance of conceiving. I… I didn’t know-”

“Obviously, something changed. Those contracts can do a lot, to make sure they get paid.”

“I signed the stupid paper. It slipped my mind, and I forgot it soon enough. Things didn’t get better too fast, and I went right back to where I’d been that night. Except something changed. There was always something stopping me from getting out. The gun jammed, the pills fell into the sink… after a week, I got a call.”

Her hand jerked through her hair in some form of tic, her shaking making a quick return.

Tears were starting to build, but she didn’t look quite on the verge of crying, just yet, but she was getting there.

“My boss’s son was charged for sexual harassment and assault of some interns. All the people filing for my old job at the same time were totally incompetent. I got my job back in a hurry, and I threw myself into the work. It caught the company president’s attention, and I started moving up the corporate ladder.”

“Everything you could’ve bargained for,” I quipped, wincing at how harsh it sounded as soon as I’d said it.

She seemed oblivious, caught up in her story.

“I was at the headquarters for a meeting when I first met the president’s son. He was everything I’d ever dreamed of for boyfriend material. We got serious, quick-”

“Then you got pregnant.”

“We got married, and then I had Catherine. It all came rushing back. I was so scared, because she reminded me of that deal. And… and now…”

“Now it’s fifteen years later, and your daughter went missing.”

“R-right… H-h-her birthday was last week, almost to the day that I signed that fucking paper.”

“Tell me about her. Any little details. Is there any specific sign that makes you think it was this guy, this demon, that took her, and not someone or thing else?”

At this point, I’d accepted that I would likely be stinking like sulfur before the night was over.

Demons were the only creatures that worked in the soul-trade business, which was why many of them were so good at working small miracles to get them paid.

“She’s such a wonderful girl. Like I said, I never expected to have children, but I was so glad I had her. Am glad,” she quickly corrected in horror. “She’s got the usual teenage rebellion, but even then, she’s a really good kid. Nothing to suggest she ran away, or that it was just some normal person that took her.”

With a half-sob, she started rummaging through her purse.

“A-and I… I got this, three days ago. It didn’t make any sense, until I found out she didn’t make it to school the same day. I was on my way to the APD when I met that Tenshi guy.”

She finally found something, and she gave a wheeze of breath as she pulled the small note free.

The first thing I noticed was the seven-pointed, red star wrapped in a black circle on the top of the page.

As soon as I touched the paper, dark energy sparked to life, trying to slip its way into my consciousness.

Angel seemed oblivious to the slight green glow around my hand, which snuffed the flames out.

Suddenly, her nervousness didn’t seem quite so surprising.

The sender had slipped his own aura, and all the black magic it was made of, into the note.

Being in such close proximity to the thing without even knowing what kind of toxicity it had for the psyche, would turn even the calmest people insane after a while.

If that wasn’t enough, the contents of the message itself wasn’t much better.

Dear Angel,

The contract’s been paid in full. Have a good life with what you’ve reaped.

-Therion

“Shite,” I grumbled.

With that name attached, I was guaranteed to have a job that was going to be even less pleasant than the usual knock-down, drag-out fights against the things that go bump in the night…

The wind pulled at my nape like fingers of pure ice, completely destroying the sweltering heat everywhere else.

In my line of work, you don’t live long if you don’t keep tabs on the newest rumours.

Lately, Therion was the rumours.

None of what I’d heard was good news, especially since it would be my first time going against him.

He was from the Higher Order of Hell’s host, and fit the image of a stereotypical demon to a tee.

Whereas most demons in the 21^st century had come to prefer doing things the new and improved way of just driving people to drink themselves to death, he didn’t.

Therion clung to the older traditions of making deals, apparently feeling like working the horribly underpaid servers of the damned in return for a few high-quality souls was more fun.

In particular, he had a penchant for the souls of miracle children.

While I wasn’t exactly doing it pro bono, considering the funds that Angel had at her disposal, she was still paying me far less than my usual rates.

Decommissioning Therion would be my pleasure.

With a sigh, I stepped into the warehouse.

The second I passed the threshold, the chill increased tenfold.

I moved quickly, bringing all the tools I’d grabbed from a nearby war chest onto a raised slab of concrete.

I hated Arkham’s docks.

Being so close to open water, the shore, and the raging power of the Miskatonic itself, always made me feel like I was a few seconds from some disaster dragging me into the depths and all the way back through into the Courts.

The fact that the whole of the docks was owned by one man, who I particularly wanted to avoid getting the attention of, sat even less well with me.

Shaking it off, I laid everything out on the slab, save for my gun.

That, I kept on me, feeling the silver rounds vibrating with their volatile, poisonous magic inherent in the metal.

I didn’t think I would need the weapon, if everything went according to plan, but hey, why take chances with a demon?

I could boast about being able to take Therion until I was blue in the face, but if it came down to an out-and-out fight, there was every chance my power couldn’t outlast his.

The noon’s approach hummed through me, a lazy warmth spreading through my brain and a slight tingling running up my spine.

Pulling open a few of the salt packets lying on the slab, I began my work.

Moving clockwise, I made a massive circle with the salt, leaving a hole just barely big enough for me to fit through.

Normally, I’d be a lot more ritualistic about that kind of thing.

I’d also usually have a team waiting around for containment if things got messy.

But Catherine O’Brian had already been gone for, at the very least, 60 hours.

I was starting out short on time, assuming she hadn’t already been sold to another demon.

If that was the case, I wouldn’t be able to do a whole helluva lot, anyway.

Pushing the thoughts down, I moved back to the slab and picked up a set of five knives, leaving the concrete completely bare.

The iron crackled with power as I moved through the hole, brushing the salt as I went so the circle was unbroken once I was outside of its edge.

The air warmed in an instant and became utterly still.

I took it in with closed eyes, letting the power around me hum through my every synapse until it felt like I was part of a live current.

Letting the deep breath flow out of me, I moved to one corner of the circle, closest to the closed doors.

“Standing above the North, I call upon the all-consuming wisdom of the Undine, spirit of water. Let this circle be connected to the world, taking a small dose of power from thine own life-giving breath!”

With that, I brought the first knife down.

It slid easily into the smooth, wooden floor all the way up to the light, blue gemstone in the blade’s base.

I moved quickly away, the sudden burst of arctic cold making standing there anymore uncomfortable.

Several steps away, I came to a swift stop and lifted another blade.

“In the domain of the West, I call upon the power of the Gnome, earth’s spirit and power given form. Grant me your strength, and hold this circle with the stability of the planet itself!”

The second one slid in with just as little resistance as the first, this one hosting a bright garnet.

The scent of sunflowers and lilacs rose and quickly became cloying.

As I stood there, a strange, sensation filled the whole of my consciousness, making my brain feel like it was made of everything at the same time as it was just a tiny speck in front of something too vast to comprehend.

The noon’s rapid approach wore against me, snapping me from the revelry and sending me to the next spot, directly opposite where I’d been standing.

“I call on the power of the South. Guardian spirit of fire itself, I ask the Djinn heed my call and temper this circle against all that would break it.”

I shoved a knife with a blood-red gem in next, the stone facing water’s own gem.

Sweat rose in a puff against my brow, the air becoming heavy and chokingly damp against me.

Even as the discomfort grew, my lips were in a small smile.

Moving across from the Earth’s pillar, I took a stance with the next-to-last knife poised.

The energy was quickly rising into the warehouse’s atmosphere, crackling powerfully against my awareness.

“Under the domain of the East, I call the vast, infinite energy of the Sylph, guardian of air itself! Come to me, and make this circle every bit as inescapable as your own touch!”
The knife bore down, the yellow circle in the hilt winking as power flared through it.

Noon was less than two minutes away, by that point, and I finally moved to stand right between the blue and red knives.

I brought the last knife up above my head, and felt electricity zinging down my entire body.

“Power of Akasha, that which binds all things in life and otherwise, I ask to borrow a sliver of your power. Bind this circle together! Close the gates, and seal this coming evil within, until I so will it to break. As above, so below, this circle I’ve cast, and now I call on you to make reality’s power itself, into this domain, flow!”

The wood groaned as I slammed the blade down, a large, circular amethyst twinkling in the wood.

Power snapped into place with an audible hum, and all five knives became surrounded in an intense, shimmering glow not unlike intense heat on metal.

From the knives, a band of multi-coloured light emitted.

After several seconds, the lights intensified into a solid-looking barrier of living, pulsing magic.

I was sure that if anyone happened by this place at that moment, they’d either be smart enough to turn the other way, or very curious why someone was throwing a rave in the middle of the day.

Taking several steps back from the circle, I brought my gun out and double-checked it with a quick glance.

The circle was definitely strong and sturdy, but so were demons.

Hopefully, if it didn’t hold him, it would slow him down and wear him down.

Knowing nothing but the rumours, though, made it impossible to really know.

If he was able to comfortably walk around in daylight, as people had said, then he wouldn’t be weak, and he definitely wouldn’t be predictable.

Without knowing how many souls he’d bought to use as familiars, I had absolutely no way of gauging what he could do until he was there.

Noon came, then, and the air became charged even more.

Colors sparked to a rhythm I could only vaguely feel, and the air inside the warehouse turned dark, as though preparing for the corruption that was soon coming.

“In this place and at this hour, I call upon my ancient power. In this time and in this place, the barrier between worlds, I do now temporarily erase! Creature of darkness, bargainer of souls, Trader Therion, you without a choice will heed this call!”

The magic intensified, breaking into the physical plane.

With an echoing crack, the air displaced inside the circle.

And then, I was no longer alone in the warehouse, someone standing within the confines of the salt and magically charged knives.

Therion stood at nearly seven feet tall, all of his height made of lean muscle.

A healthy surfer’s tan that you wouldn’t expect someone from Hell to have showed wherever his grey suit didn’t cover, and a clean-cut mop of black hair covered part of his face.

Without the suit, and in a different setting, he might pass for a beach bum.

Nobody would be able to think that if they saw the pure scarlet irises set into the center of his eyes, though, the color putting my knife’s ruby to shame.

The smell of brimstone quickly thickened the air, seeming to make an effort to choke me as it spread.

“Well, well, what pleasure do I find myself facing here?” he asked with a deep timbre of a voice.

The sound of it hit me like a physical force, as though just him speaking was pressing a serrated knife to me.

“Let’s not waste time playin’ games today, yeah? The gate’s only open fer a short time, an’ I hate wastin’ time.”

He looked at his cage, turning in a slow circle as if I hadn’t spoken.

When he came to a stop, his mouth was in a cruel, feral-looking sneer.

“This is quite the barrier here. I was thinking some hapless moron found one of my cards and decided to have a party. To have summoned me by name, into something like this, though… You’re not some amateur, yes? What, then? A witch, maybe? I can smell the stink only someone with Faery in them has, even from here.”

I just shrugged, giving nothing away, if I could help it.

“I know a trick ‘er two.”

“So it seems.”

With a sniff, he nudged at the salt, only to have a small tongue of fire leap to life on his wingtip shoe.

A gesture snuffed it out, and he gave a small nod, as though the display had confirmed something.

“They clearly never warned you about summoning my kind, little Changeling witch. It’s just your misfortune that you fished for me, specifically. That was an astoundingly stupid decision.”

I shrugged again, my hand tightening just a bit around the gun’s grip.

“That remains ta’ be seen. If ya’ want out, trade me fer it,” I challenged.

I watched closely, looking for his reaction.

Demons weren’t good at what they did because they failed at having effective poker faces, and Therion was no exception.

A small twitch around his jaw was all I could pick up.

Apparently, I shifted from annoying to amusing, all with a single sentence.

Somehow, I doubted that was a good thing.

“A deal?” he asked as cunning flashed in his eyes.

No point in hiding the scheming, in a race known for scheming, I suppose.

“And what is it that you want? Money? Power? A bigger chest?”

The last one was meant to get a rise out of me, and it was shocking how weak the attempt was.

I gave him a flippant jerk of my hands, smirking right back at him.

“No thanks. I’ve got a pretty fantastic amounta’ funds, there’s not any kinder power ya’ can get with a wish that’d be werth it, and I’ve not gotten many complaints in that other area. No, what I want should be pretty simple.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Oh? And what is it that you want, my brogue-ful Changeling witch captor?”

“I’ll send ya’ back home when I’ve got Catherine O’Brian, intact in every single interpretationa’ the word,” I stated, locking stares with the hellspawn.

He was staring at me through slits by that point, and the glare was made all the creepier with his Cheshire cat smile.

“I see. A gun for hire, so to speak, then. Disappointing, if I’m honest. I regret to inform you that my contract is binding. Angel sold her daughter’s soul, and it’s mine to sell or do as I otherwise please, by right and by lawful transaction. Now, if you’re willing to buy her, that’d be a different story, of course, but-”

“She was an idiot,” I interrupted. “Doesn’t mean ‘er daughter should suffer. Especially since ya’ prey on people when they’re already on the way out and think they got nothin’ ta’ lose. We’ve got stuff dealin’ with contracts made while takin’ advantage a’ people, up on the topside.”

He smirked and gave me a shrug, seeming entirely amused.

“Stupidity isn’t grounds for termination of my contracts,” he retorted.

“True enough. Which is why I’m not askin’ ta’ break yer contract.”

“So you will buy her, then?”

The hopeful gleam to his eyes told me I wanted nothing to do with paying whatever fee that would cost.

“Not a chance.”

“Then… what? You want me to just give her to you because you asked so nicely?” he sneered.

“I’ll make a new contract. You get released back to the Lower Realms in return for Catherine O’Brian. You also nullify any future claims on ‘er.”

That’s where things got truly dangerous.

Until that point, Therion had been having what would almost be called fun.

Amusement at the expense of the stupid human, and the exchange of various threats through body language and potential slip-ups alone.

Telling him I’d put him in a cage that was so much stronger than him that he had to pay a soul to get his way free, though, was something different.

Demons are, without a doubt, the worst species to take being backed into a corner.

“You actually think you can bargain a miracle child for my freedom!?” he snarled, eyes flashing the color of old blood.

Yep, amusement gone.

“Look, my client wants her daughter. I’ll add a clause that says if I ever tell anyone but my client about this, you can take her back. Fair?”

“Oh, no. No, that’s giving you what you want. I’m not going to be so foolishly lenient.”

Snarling, he moved to the very edge of the salt circle.

“I’m going to break out of this, and then I’m going to rend your flesh from bone, and utterly eviscerate you. Slowly, and with relish, making sure you’re aware through all of it. Are you prepared, Changeling!? Nobody dares such insolence with me and survives with their soul intact!”

His right fist lashed out in a blur of motion.

My barrier pulsed to life, becoming a solid dome of light as he connected.

Black, acrid smoke rose from his completely charred hand.

The growl that rumbled free from him shook the entire warehouse until dust rained down from the roof.

The air inside the circle began to turn opaquely black, the air pressure around us shifting.

Dark, cloying energy pulsated in and out of existence in a nebulous smoke around him.

Something big was coming.

The fact that I could feel it from the other side of two circles was something that was terrifying, in itself.

“If you insist on insulting me this way, then I will give you no hint of mercy, you arrogant whelp! I’ll punch a hole straight through your little circle, and then I’ll turn your skull into a chalice!”

Black magic coalesced around his clenched fist, and I once again checked my gun, just in case.

“Ready yourself to face your end, witch!”

With a snarl, he threw his arms out.

In a flash, his power left him and collided with the circle.

Evil, ink-black flames burst from the aether, licking at the outline of the barrier.

A solid tidal wave of obsidian coated the barrier, running along its entire form to show the magical bubble, no psychic vision required.

After half a minute, the circle began to wobble and bend under the demonic assault.

He pushed more power into the black flames, until his eyes took on the same obsidian color.

His mouth was curled in a hideous snarl as the hellfire built up more and more.

The daggers began vibrating in the floor, my barrier rapidly expanding under the weight of his power.

The salt that had made up the first line of defense was turned to a massive, white puddle of superheated sludge.

As soon as that first circle dropped, the fire shot forward and slammed into the other barrier.

The ground jerked and throbbed as though a giant’s fist had slammed down.

The force of it sent me flying backwards.

Pure reflex brought the gun up and I pulled the trigger just in time.

The quality of the air shifted, and an electric charge shot through my entire body as every one of the daggers snapped or broke free from the floor.

The ones that had slipped free smashed into the warehouse walls with a series of echoing snaps that screeched against my sensitive hearing.

My bullet collided with Therion’s attack, and the silver caused it to implode.

The good news was the hellfire had been shut off, and I didn’t have waves of frozen death coming at my heels.

The bad news was that he’d broken through both barriers.

Admittedly, I hadn’t been expecting that kind of assault, and it had obviously used a lot of his reserves of power.

But he was still a demon, now on the loose in broad daylight thanks to me.

“That took more than I expected,” he admitted in a growl.

I stood perfectly still, watching his every move and waiting.

“What can I say? I always go big,” I quipped. “Wish I’d gotten here sooner. Another two or three layers might’ve tapped ya’ completely. But I was pressed fer time da’ get this done today,” I explained.

“Humans and halflings can’t hold that much power,” he scoffed while taking an intimidating step forward.

“Maybe, maybe not. Won’t really know, now, will we? So does this mean no deal?”

“Your mockery will only assure I prolong your death, witch. Best you quiet yourself and don’t add to your torment.”

“I’d love to, really, I would, but I’ve always had a problem controllin’ my mouth,” I retorted with a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate for you. It will ensure your end,” he swore with a snarl.

“Possibly. Why’s this girl’s soul so important to ya’, anyway? I’m sure you’ve got plenty others,” I reasoned, even as I trained my gun on his slowly advanding form.

“Does it really matter?”

“If I’m gonna’ die, I want to know why. I don’t exactly have much of a life expectancy, in my line a work, but I’ve always had the condition since I threw in with ya’ lot that I’d go out knowin’ why I passed. Not like lettin’ a dead woman with borrowed time know will do ya’ any harm right?”

His head canted to the side, and I suddenly felt like an insect pinned under a microscope.

“You’re an interesting little mortal,” he admitted with a creepy smirk.

His eyes slid down from my face, and rested on the glowing gun trained on him.

“You do realize that gun will do less than no good, right?”

I shrugged, making sure my aim never left him as he kept walking closer.

Apparently, my bravado was amusing enough to disarm him, a little.

“Very well. As you say, it’s not like you’ll be telling anyone, when I have your soul chained tight to my wall. That girl’s a demigod, a nephilim, to be specific, and that kind of special soul causes big prices for me.”

My brow rose in surprise at the unexpected news.

“A nephilim? What? Is Angel an actual angel?”

While she hadn’t come across as someone particularly holy, that didn’t really mean much.

Most angels that wore human flesh those days did so more out of necessity than choice.

In general, they were a bitter bunch, and acted out the most negative parts of humanity worse than most humans could ever dream of.

Her aura, though, had a distinct lack of any kind of magic to it, which even the most fallen of them couldn’t achieve.

Though it made Therion’s interest suddenly make a whole lot of sense.

When angels, gods, or any other beings of the Higher Realms had a child with a human, that child was usually unbelievably powerful with magic and essence both.

If Catherine was the child of an angel of any real power, Therion wouldn’t be any more likely to give up that power to any other demon, any more than he would me.

Who better, after all, to use as a slave for holding power for a demon to pull on than a being born with blood that literally sang with high levels of magic?

“Of course not,” he scoffed, breaking into my thoughts. “No, her husband. I didn’t count on that fortunate turn. Though I suppose angel would be a bit of a stretch. More like an improved human. Strong Enochian magic, that one. The point still stands that little Catherine’s more than human, and has a lot of potential. Now, if that will be all, have you made your peace with your end?”

“I’m always ready. I won’ go quietly, though.”

In a second, the trigger suppressed, and a bang echoed painfully back and forth against the warehouse walls.

A massive, jagged black hole opened in his right shoulder, and it took him a second to realize his arm was now lying at his feet, in a puddle of sickly honey-colored liquid.

The same rotten, rancid-smelling ichor, corrupted with the Fall, dripped from the destroyed stump.

Around the edges of his burn, dark black smoke rose.

The more it billowed up, the louder his snarl grew.

Therion’s eyes were hellish slits of fire in his skull, and his lips were pulled back to reveal sharp, ivory fangs.

“That hurt,” he hissed.

The air grew utterly still as he took a step towards me.

As he came, a large wave of obsidian flames wrapped around his remaining fist.

“Silver bullets etched with salt. Consider yerself lucky my aim was off.”

“This was no error, you little whelp!”

Evidently, he knew he wasn’t good to me dead.

Hopefully, the loss of his arm would take a lot of his energy with it.

I’d been hoping he would use even more to repair the damage, but he’d decided to go with Hellfire, instead.

That was as impressive as it was terrifying.

While all demons could use the black fire, it took a massive concentration of magic to wield.

Lesser demons were known to spontaneously disintegrate, trying it.

With how much of his power he should’ve already used, Therion being able to still use Hellfire made him way scarier than the rumors had depicted.

“I’ll blow yer head off if ya’ don’t stop, right there, Therion,” I ordered. “There are plenty more rounds in this thing.”

He swung his arm in response, launching black napalm for my skull.

Cursing, I dove wide of the attack, coming up with my sights trained on him.

Before I could fire on his back, he spun on his heel and threw more of the fire at me as he went.

Knowing I wouldn’t be getting out of the way that time, I banked on my often vindictive luck and fired.

Hellfire and silver collided, and the magic expanded with a violent explosion as they offset each other.

When I regained the sense that I was, in fact, still alive, I noticed a few things immediately.

For one thing, my ears were ringing from the explosion’s sound, sending rippling waves of pain through my skull.

The pain vibrated along my every synapse, making my vision greyed and blurry around the edges.

The second thing I realized was that I was flat on my ass on the warehouse’s wood floor, with an ash outline surrounding me on all sides.

Most importantly, though, my gun was gone, and Therion was getting up from where he’d been thrown, barely twenty steps away.

“Fek,” I gasped as I forced myself into motion.

By the time I’d gotten into a full stand, I was made aware of one last fact.

My everything hurt, and whatever drunk golfer that had gone to town on me had been thorough enough to break some bones.

With a groan, I looked around desperately for a weapon.

Any weapon.

What I found was the broken hilt of the dagger with fiery magic still swirling in its red gemstone.

It wouldn’t do me any good against a pissed off, wounded, top-tier demon, though.

Which put my options squarely down to two.

I could use the rest of the salt I had on me and put up another circle, hoping it would finish the rest of his power off.

Or I could use the last tool I had with me.

Between putting a molecule-thin sheet of magic between me and certain death, or that option, the circle was the less dangerous choice.

It was also more likely to fail and bite me in the ass.

With a flourish, I reached into my jacket and pulled a long, beaded necklace out.

Sparks tore through the air from the contact with my bare skin, sending up small puffs of grey smoke where I was burned.

“Stop where you are, demon,” I demanded.

As I spoke, I let the necklace arc up and wrap fully around my right fist, causing more pain to flare up.

“Prayer beads? Now you’re just being petulant,” he hissed while gripping at his bleeding stump. “My kind of demons are more resilient than you think, worm.”

He started charging at me, albeit with a slight limp, and I moved.

Arms sweeping out, I carved a massive, burning silver pentacle into the air.

“I call on all that from which shadows originate. Hecate, Hades, Morrigan, Cerridwen, and Nyx, mothers of darkness and magic, give me your aid from the five points of existence’s star!”

The pentacle pulsed with energy, and my pain tripled in an instant.

I fought through it, refusing to go to my knees.

“Under the midday sun, I summon all shadows within this domain, and call on thee to bind this creature of the Lower Realms. Gate through which all souls pass, act as a cage under my will!”

Therion’s eyes widened in shock, but his sudden attempt to stop his momentum was already too late.

He hit the wall of living, writhing magic between us, and it was over.

Faster than a human brain could process, the trap rose and surrounded him in an orb of opaque black.

As it took hold, I felt an alien awareness settle on me, though I wasn’t sure if it was the cause of the sudden tremors rocking through me, or the agony I was dealing with.

“And that’s the end of this game,” I huffed. You’re going to give me Catherine O’Brian back, now, and then I’ll send you back to the Lower Realms, arm and all.”

“If I don’t?” he snarled.

Therion lashed out at the circle, and immediately jerked back when he was electrocuted and burned simultaneously.

“Your little bubble will burst, once you pass out, and you look like you’re only seconds from that.”

“Ya’… apparently need to catch up… on some history… I could die right now, an’ you still wouldn’ get free. Ye’ll die if… ya’ don’t give me Catherine… Plain an’ simple. The onmyouji in Japan came up with some nice tricks, in their day, an’ I added in some Celtic magic a my own. If I die, the dimensional bubble goes with me, whether yer in it or not.”

Not that I was entirely sure that was true, really.

I’d never really wanted to test it, for some reason.

But he seemed to buy it, if his wide-eyed stare at the bubble was any indication.

“No escaping this one,” I huffed.

I hoped it wasn’t obvious how hard I was fighting not to drop to my knees and pass out, the bubble’s very existence draining me by the second.

“Onmyou? People still use those archaic tricks?” he asked, his surprise and fear overpowering the anger.

“I do. I’m commanding ya’ now, demon, heed this covenant. Time’s runnin’ shorter ‘n my patience. Give me Catherine O’Brian, completely healthy an’ unharmed in any way.”

His eyes narrowed, my will and power pressing down on his damaged body to push the fact that yes, I had, in fact, hurt this badass demon with only a mortal body and a shite ton of magic.

“You heed my words, Changeling witch. Nobody traps me. I promise you this, I will have your head on a pike before the realms reach their end,” he snarled.

He brought his hand forward, and a pulse of energy went through the air at my side.

Darkness coalesced in the air, becoming humanoid in shape as it grew.

With a snap of displaced magic, a thud sounded, and I suddenly had a woman at my side.

She popped up from the floor and looked around in complete terror.

“What!? W-where am I-I now?”

Catherine O’Brian, true to the deal, came across as completely unharmed, physically and otherwise.

The air smelled like lilies with her entrance, and the psychic miasma around us seemed to clear.

Some of my pain even vanished.

Evidently, she was the real thing.

“The deal is done, so release me from your presence, witch, now!” Therion commanded with a growl.

His voice sent Catherine jumping, and on noticing him, she fell backward and desperately crawled away.

With a Herculean effort burning through me, I lifted an arm to point at the dimensional rift.

“I release thee, demon, and cast you back to whence you came whole. Creature of shadows and corruption, I command thee to stay any future claims on Catherine O’Brian’s soul, your contract and claim to her nullified as your freedom’s price,” I intoned.

In a burst of light, the orb vanished, as did Therion.

With a gasp of relief, I collapsed, amazed that the Gate hadn’t outright killed me once its work was done.

“Umm… excuse me?”

I looked up, the motion sending fresh, hellish waves of burning agony down my spine.

Without a demon nipping at my heels, I had the time to really take Catherine O’Brian in while I fought for the strength to talk.

She looked almost nothing like her mother.

Instead of long, reddish-brown hair like her mother, she had a platinum blonde curtain to her shoulders, which seemed entirely natural even as it was nearly white in how bright it was.

Instead of cold, ice-blue eyes, hers were a warm shade of emerald, and bright enough to have some kind of magic behind them.

She also stood at nearly half a foot taller than her mother and had an athletic build, though my perspective from her feet might’ve influenced that.

The only real similarities I could see were some parts of her face’s shape, and her tanned skin.

“You’re Catherine O’Brian, yeah?” I wheezed.

She nodded, casting a wide-eyed stare around us.

“Where am I?”

“A warehouse at the docks… Did he do anythin’ ta’ ya’?”

She nodded, gripping at her right shoulder.

“When he first grabbed me on the way to school, he… he cut me… He put some kind of symbol in my shoulder. It hurt real bad whenever I didn’t do what he said…”

“That’ll go away in ‘bout a week, long as ya’ don’ run inta’ anyone topside who knows ‘bout it,” I assured.

“Who are you?” she asked, very eager to change subjects.

“Morgana Lugus. Private investigator. Yer mom hired me ta’ get ya’ back.”

Her expression closed, and she glared a hole into the floor.

“Of course she did. That guy explained the whole thing. She sold me to Hell so she could get a job and a boyfriend.”

She wasn’t growling, but only just.

With her anger, the air buzzed against me, waking the pain that’d only just started to numb.

“Not exactly how it went. Don’ judge ‘er too harshly. Demons tend ta’ exaggerate things.”

With a huff, I forced myself to sit up, and very nearly passed out on the spot for my trouble.

“Yer mom was a short-sighted idiot, but she didn’ really have anythin’ ta’ care ‘bout when she made that deal. Which is now voided, by the way, so ya’ don’t have ta’ worry about ‘im poppin’ up an’ draggin’ ya’ back.”

“You broke his deal?” she asked with a blink.

The surprise lasted only seconds, though.

“So what!? That thing’s a freaking demon, if you missed that part? He-”

“Demons lie, exaggerate, steal, and do all sorts of horrible business, but not a one a them’s an oath-breaker. Literally in their genetics. Long as ya’ know how ta’ talk the lingo well enough, they can’t loophole their way out. Yer free ta’ go.”

With how pissed off Therion had been, he’d probably be looking for ways to do it, anyway.

Hopefully, making myself a target had solved the problem for Catherine, at least.

“How-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout the logistics, kid. It’s best ya’ forget about all a this, chalk it up to a really bad nightmare, an’ go ‘bout yer life normally, or sleep’ll come hard.”

“Like I’m ever gonna’ sleep again,” she grumbled.

With a very ladylike grunt, I finally managed to push myself to my feet.

“Let’s get ya’ back. Give me a second, then we’ll go.”

With a sigh, I pulled out another salt packet.

I barely managed to toss the packet, spreading the salt into the air.

“Let the darkness that taints this domain be swept away upon the four winds!”

The salt vanished, and hundreds of small silver fires flickered in and out of existence until there wasn’t any more corruption in the warehouse.

That done, I trudged to the door, feeling the demigod follow after me.

The entire drive back to my office, I kept thinking of my nice, soft bed, and the small coma I’d be in as soon as I touched it.

Angel was waiting for us by the time we reached the office, and she lunged for Catherine the second she appeared.

Catherine visibly tensed as her mother engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug, tears rapidly falling on her shoulder.

“Catherine, oh, I’m so, so sorry! I had no idea… I didn’t know! Will you ever forgive me?” she sobbed.

Her daughter didn’t respond, though she pulled her more tightly into a hug.

The impact of the emotions swirling through the air nearly drove me to the floor, the world becoming greyscale for a few seconds.

“The contract’s been voided. You don’ have ta’ worry ‘bout him from showing up again.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Angel sobbed, not releasing her daughter for a second.

“Don’t thank me. Both a ya’ should just forget about it all,” I sighed as I plummeted into my chair.

With a nod, they turned to leave.

Before they made it to the door, my exhausted and pain-hazed brain kicked up a buzzing sensation that wouldn’t go away.

“Catherine?”

“Yeah?” she asked.

Turning, she extracted herself from her mother’s grip with surprising enthusiasm.

“Mom, can you go start the car? I want to go home and sleep. I’ll be down in a sec.”

“Of course, honey,” Angel said before reluctantly making her way outside.

I quickly rummaged through my desk until I found a metal card.

“Take this,” I told her, slipping the black and purple card over my desk as she approached.

“That looks kind of cool. What is it?”

As she touched it, her aura ignited with white fire, before it quickly simmered down.

“My business card.”

“Nothing’s written on it,” she mused, flipping it over and finding it to be just as blank.

“And hopefully it never will. But, if you start noticin’ anythin’, make sure you have that on ya’. You’ll see a number, then. If ya’ ever see anythin’ on it, I want you to call me, immediately.”

She stared down at the card, looking a lot more nervous now.

“Noticing things? Like what?”

“Anythin’ out of the ordinary. Did Therion explain anythin’ about why he wanted you, Catherine?”

“Not in so many words. Wasn’t really chatty, thank god. No, he just said I was special,” she retorted with a shudder. “If special means getting to play around in Hell, I’ll give it a pass.”

“Well, technically, he was right. You are special, Catherine. Miracle children are often sought out by plenty a the things that hide in the dark. Not just demons. That’s why Therion wanted ya’.”

Sitting back, I winced as a jolt shot through my spine.

“So just keep an eye out, kid. If ya’ see anythin’ on that card, or see anythin’ that doesn’t seem right with the world around ya’, call me. I’ll be there.”

“Okay… I will,” she said, seeming as excited as she was nervous when she slid it into her pocket.

She was halfway through the door when she jerked to a stop and turned back one more time.

“And thank you, for saving me. I don’t know how you did it, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t safe to do it.”

“Ta’ put it lightly,” I quipped, though I softened it with a smirk.

“Are you a witch?”

I blinked in surprise, surprised that I wasn’t being allowed to pass out yet.

“I am.”

“That thing with the salt… I’ve seen my dad do stuff like that, before. I don’t think mom knows, and I thought I was just imagining things, but I wasn’t, was I?”

“That’s a conversation ya’d be better off havin’ with yer da’.”

She cast a quick look over her shoulder, before giving a nod, as though confirming her mother wasn’t listening.

“What am I?”

“A teenaged girl.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped further back into the room.

“A demon dragged me to his freakshow below the Earth. I’m not just some teenaged girl who was lucky to be born,” she scoffed.

A shrug worked some of the tension out of me, and I sat up straighter.

“Talk ta’ yer dad.”

“Can I do stuff like he can? Like you can?”

“Anyone can do what I do, with enough blood and time poured inta’ it. Well, probably not as well… I’m a bit… different, too. Similar ta’ ya’. Fer anythin’ else, talk ta’ yer dad. Ya’ know where to find me. If he doesn’t answer ya’, we’ll pick up this conversation.”

With that, I shut my eyes, signaling just how done I was with that discussion, and the day as a whole.

“I get the feeling that I’ll be back,” she finally said, her voice by the door.

“Have a good life, kid. I hope ya’ don’ ever have a reason ta’ see me again. You should, too.”

She said nothing, and the door finally slipped closed with a resigned click.

As I took in the silent, lily-scented air, my instincts told me this was definitely not the last time I’d be seeing Catherine O’Brian...