Fire Within (31 page)

She concentrated on how to force the demon to vanquish itself. If she could trap it in its human form, and destroy that body by witchcraft or any other means, the demon would try to save its essence. During the last moments, it could choose to become an earthbound shade or banish itself forever to the demon realm. Either way, its reign of terror would be over.

Freezing spells, binding potions. Ari found dozens, but all were temporary fixes and not one claimed to work on demons. Would they work on a demon in human form? Could she increase the strength? After hours of searching, she’d found nothing that gave her the answers.

Ari’s eyes grew blurry. How long had it been since she’d slept? Blowing an exhausted breath between her lips, she collapsed facedown over the keyboard.

“Forget it,” she mumbled into her arms, “the answer isn’t here.”

* * *

Ari was saved from drifting into a deep sleep by Ryan calling to complain. “How the hell am I supposed to find a demon?” he demanded. “No name, no description. It’s impossible.”

“On a hunch, I’d guess the search has bogged down.”

“The only good news I have is Olde Town is quiet. No fights or confrontations. At least Andreas is having more success on his end than we are.”

“Speak for yourself. I’ve learned all kinds of things. Need your love life improved? How about good fortune? Or maybe the ideal job? The internet is full of useless spells written by amateurs. There’s a spell for everything, except vanquishing demons.”

“Maybe you should talk with your witch mentor again.”

“Moriana told me all she knew. Even the scholars at the research lab can’t find an instance where an image changer was defeated. I really need Great-Gran. She’d know what to do. She had centuries of knowledge stored in her head.”

“Too bad she didn’t write it down.”

Ari gave a weary sigh. She had. In the missing Book of Shadows. Witches were prolific recorders. Something they were taught as soon as they could hold a quill or a pen. Even Ari had a diary of her own.

She sat up straight. The notes! Maybe the Book wasn’t her only source. She had the personal papers and letters written by Great-Gran and her mother. It was worth a try.

Ari had used the old trunk as a coffee table for years and didn’t give its contents a second thought most of that time. She hadn't looked beneath the top tray of scrying equipment in a long time. Great-Gran had produced the trunk from somewhere after Ari’s parents died. At six-years-old, the young witch had barely understood what had happened to her parents. Great-Gran had made a ritual of storing the small mementos away. Many years later, Ari had added a new layer of Great-Gran’s things. Among the contents, Ari was sure she remembered letters, a journal of Great-Gran’s, some old photos, and miscellaneous loose papers. Ari had skimmed the papers at one time, but that was years ago, before she had given up believing The Book of Shadows would return. She’d intended to sort the contents at a later date, but like so many good intentions, it hadn’t happened. Maybe she hadn’t been ready to face the pain. Now she wondered if one of the missing women in her life might be able to help defeat the demon.

Half-way through the trunk, she began to think this wasn’t such a hot idea. So far she’d cried over Great-Gran’s shawl and the six-inch seashell that had sat next to the old woman’s bed. From the time Ari was very little, she’d been told it was a secret portal to the ocean. She used to sneak into Great-Gran’s bedroom and hold the shell to her ear, fascinated by the sound of the waves trapped inside.

Damn, Ari thought, wiping her cheeks, she was too tired to do this. The memories were too distracting. She re-wrapped the shell in the soft towel and returned it to the trunk for another day. Ari pushed her hair behind her ears. She was tempted to close the trunk, but something urged her to keep digging.

Great-Gran’s journal was buried under layers of trinkets, family photos, and old books. Still sitting on the floor, Ari opened the thin brown journal, flipped through the pages, skimming handwritten notes on herbology, potion ingredients, and whatever else her great-grandparent had found noteworthy. She was amazed and chagrined at the contents. Why had she never looked here before? This was the next best thing to The Book. Field notes. Before the elder witch had transferred the information into the formal records. More cryptic, of course. Often just a word or two, but a wealth of information, if she could interpret it.

Excited by the find, she scanned through the recipes, tempted to stop and devour every word, but knowing her time was slipping away. She read every entry that contained the word
demon
. About two-thirds of the way through, a written question caught her eye.
Is the woman a human or demon
?

Ari’s heart beat a little faster as she read on, putting together snatches of a visit to a remote village in the hills. Great-Gran had been asked to come because three local witches had vanished, leaving no trace. Suspicion had settled on a woman, newly arrived in the community. Then came the question Ari had read. Human or demon? A page later, Great-Gran had added a note in the margin.
Bind it before vanquishing
.

Ari dropped the journal into her lap. If this was an ordinary demon, why the binding? She began to smile. That would only be necessary if the demon could change in some way. Other demons didn’t look human, not to Ari’s knowledge. Was she groping at straws? What else could the human or demon phrase mean? Oh, Great-Gran, she lamented, why aren’t you here?

She thumbed through the rest of the journal without success.
Bind it
, she murmured. Was there some kind of binding spell for demons? If so, what were the elements, and where was the incantation? She knew where it was. The Book of Shadows.

She was staring at the journal, willing it to give her a clue, when the phone rang. What was Ryan’s problem this time?

“Good evening, little witch.”

Ari smiled, and her weariness fell away at the sound of Andreas’s voice. Ordinarily she might have worried about her reaction. Not tonight. “Hi. I’m glad you called. I need a break from the research. I think I’ve found something, but I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“You sound tired. Have you slept?”

Oddly enough, his concern gave her a spurt of energy. “Not a lot of time for sleep.”

“I take that to mean you have been up all night. Have you eaten?”

“Not lately, but did you hear me? I think I’ve found something.”

His voice was warm, soothing. “Of course I heard you. That is good news, and you can tell me all about it when I get there…with your dinner.”

She could hear music and the sound of voices in the background. “Is the club ready to open? The kitchen’s already working?”

“It is. The rest will be ready tomorrow night. Band is rehearsing now, and we will open on schedule. Marcus can supervise for tonight. Have you spoken with Lt. Foster?”

She leaned back and rested her head against the couch behind her. “Yeah. I assume you did, too. He’s pretty frustrated, weeding out suspects. Did he tell you about the interviews at the agency? That Sarah and Vanessa were lovers?”

“Yes. He mentioned it. I am eager to hear the details. I’ll see you soon.”

Ari knew she had a silly smile on her face when they hung up. She must be more tired than she realized. She could use a break. Maybe she’d rest here just another minute.

Chapter Seventeen

Her next conscious thought was that she’d forgotten to pull the drapes. Mid-morning sunlight streamed across her bed, making her too warm on a hot summer day. She blinked and sat up, still dressed in the t-shirt and red panties she’d had on yesterday. Ari frowned and rubbed her face. What time was it? How did she get to bed? No jeans. And, um, no bra. She didn’t remember going to bed. She padded to the fridge and reached for a diet coke. Her hand stopped as she spotted a plate with a fancy silver cover.

Memory came rushing back. Andreas. He’d said he was coming over. She popped the top on the soda can and took a long drink. She vaguely remembered Andreas’s arms carrying her. Almost like a dream. She finished the soda, setting the can on the counter.

Hmm. Andreas must have found her asleep and put her to bed. That would explain the missing clothes. The corners of her mouth twitched. Maybe she should be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. Just sorry she’d slept through the experience.

She found her clothes neatly folded on a kitchen chair. Attractive, sexy, and tidy too? Andreas wasn’t half-bad at this boyfriend business. Ari grinned, shrugging off the weight and gloom that seemed determined to settle between her shoulder blades this morning. She couldn’t let this case get her down. First a shower, then the food, and back to work. She remembered the clue she’d found last night. Thank you, Great-Gran. All she needed to do was follow it to its logical conclusion. Piece of cake.

When she was dressed, she nibbled on the reheated dinner, sipped a cup of microwaved coffee, and gave Ryan a ring. Time to catch up on his side of things.

“Did you have a nice rest?” he asked by way of greeting.

Puzzled by the amusement in his voice, she said, “Uh, fine, thank you.”

He snorted, barely containing his laughter this time. “I’ll just bet you did. Andreas left me a phone message saying you’d fallen asleep and he was quote ‘putting you to bed.’ He suggested not calling until you called me. A little possessive, I thought, but it must be nice to have somebody come tuck you in.”

“Very funny. Can we stick to business?” She’d be discussing this with Andreas. You don’t share embarrassing moments with a cop. Ever. They never let you forget it.

“If you insist. Actually, I let the computers run the searches last night and managed to get a few hours sleep myself. But I don’t think I had half as much fun as you did.”

“Enough, Ryan. Your imagination is leading you astray. What about our suspects?”

“I think we really are down to the last three, the three in Shale’s office: Stanley, Binderman, and Shale himself. Unverified alibis and holes in those three backgrounds. Sarah Young is clean. The shrink we use as a profiler agrees on Stanley and Shale. She thinks Binderman is too transparent.”

Profiler? What would a human shrink know about demons? But anything that made Ryan happy was fine with her. Ari let it go unchallenged. “Fitzhugh and Batty are definitely cleared?”

“Yep. Fitzhugh was squeaky clean. Richard Batty is an oddball and probably a pervert. Two convictions for intox, dismissed from the last job for indecent exposure, but charges were never filed. His alibis and background are genuine.”

“That’s good work. You still think Stanley’s the most likely of our remaining suspects?”

“No searchable history. Anywhere. If she’s not the demon, she’s hiding something else behind an alias. We’re concentrating efforts on her at the moment, looking for a criminal past that might explain the discrepancies.” He paused, and she heard him slurping coffee. “That doesn’t mean we’re ignoring the other two. Haven’t located Binderman’s last employer in Chicago, but we’re looking. As for Shale, his counseling agency in L.A. closed about eighteen months ago. We still don’t know why, and we’re trying to account for the missing time before he showed up in Riverdale.”

“I’m impressed. You’re close to nailing this down. I’m working hard to find a magical solution by the time we need it. I know where to start now. Great-Gran’s been helping me.”

“Huh?”

“No, no ghosts. Old notes. Never mind.” Ari chuckled at his confusion. “Just trust that I’ll get it done.” The real question was whether she’d figure it out in time.

As they talked about the suspects, Ari finally acknowledged her growing sense of unease, the weight on her shoulders. The dark cloud of dread had been there when she woke and continued to trickle through her system like the buzz of too much caffeine. A sudden cold spot on her neck made her rub it with one hand.

“We have to work faster,” Ari said. “I can sense the creature is growing impatient, and it knows we’re looking for it. It’s next strike will be a big one, and I think it’s coming soon. Maybe, within hours. Dark magic is stronger at night, so dusk could be our deadline.”

“Let’s hope you’re wrong for once,” Ryan said. “We need all the time we can get.”

* * *

In spite of the ticking clock, she had a couple more calls to make before getting back to work. The first went to Martin, the other Guardian in the district, who was covering for her on anything that couldn’t wait. Fortunately, he reported everything else had been quiet, and nothing required her immediate attention.

Her next call went to Claris. Ari hadn’t talked with her since Sunday, even though her friend had left two messages. If Ari didn't call soon, Claris would be pounding on the door. Besides, Ari would need additional magical ingredients as soon as she figured out a formula. She wanted to make sure Claris would be expecting her.

“Oh, dang,” Claris said when she picked up. “Finally you call, and I’ve got a store full of customers. I can’t chat long.”

“No big deal. I’m swamped myself but wanted to let you know I may be over to get some stuff. But you called me.”

“Oh yes. She’s back. The cat, Hernando’s lady friend? You’d asked about her, so I thought you’d want to know. Appeared yesterday morning. Skinny, so I fed her.”

“Sucker. You’ll never get rid of her now.”

“I know, but she’s so cute with those big ears. I wonder…oops, got to go. Call you later.”

Ari grinned at the empty phone. What a totally different life Claris lived, where cats and customers were the important things in her daily world and not demons, werewolves and vampires. Sometimes Ari envied her—but not for long.

Ari fired up the laptop and dug through the trunk again, setting aside keepsakes that she’d examine another day. That included a string-tied packet belonging to her father. His writings wouldn’t contain info on the magicks, as he hadn’t been a practicing warlock. In witch families, not everyone inherited the ability to use magic, but they carried the genes. The ability could skip several generations before another true witch or warlock emerged.