Which Witchery Is That? Read online

  The reminder stickie had been on my mirror for a few days. Begging for money and talking to my dad were both uncomfortable tasks, that I’d been putting off.

  “We should go,” Trish said, pushing to her feet. “I’ll be back at eight in the morning to start that trim work.”

  I hugged her. “You’re the best. Thanks so much.”

  She bent down and kissed Monty on the head and motioned for Luke to follow.

  He hung back.

  I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he had something to say. “What is it?” I asked, my spidey senses flaring.

  “You know that Ferral and I have been taking turns patrolling the church grounds?”

  “Yes.” Ferral was my advocate, which really meant he was my advisor regarding the machinations of the magical world. Like Luke, he shifted into a canine-type creature. But Ferral’s form was a moon hound, where Luke’s was a big black wolf.

  “I wanted to let you know that I’ve been picking up a new scent lately.”

  “Oh? What type of scent?”

  “It’s crazy, but it smells like a horse, and there’s a tang of magic there too.” He shook his head. “I know there’s not much chance you have a horse trotting around your yard.”

  I fought to keep my expression neutral.

  “But maybe a unicorn or a centaur?” At my look of surprise, he shrugged. “Occasionally, they cross the veil and end up in the Mystical Wood. They generally don’t cause any problems. But I wanted you to know, so you wouldn’t be caught off guard.”

  My eyes went wide at the idea that unicorns and centaurs even existed. I didn’t say anything, though, because I didn’t want Luke to dwell on the subject. “I appreciate that,” I told him. “Thanks.”

  I walked Luke to the front door and waved him and Trish off, excited about Luke’s confirmation of the white horse’s existence. The beautiful animal had been used as a pawn against us during the attempted Hellmouth invasion a few weeks earlier. When the Hellmouth had shut down, it had supposedly sucked everything demonic back through the vortex as it shrank away.

  I’d been afraid the horse had been dragged back with the others, despite the fact that it didn’t appear to be demonic.

  Monty was already snuggled under the covers when I got to my bedroom, his little head resting on the pillow like a tiny human. As always, the sight made me grin.

  After brushing my teeth, I settled into bed beside him and turned off the light, intending to read for a while.

  I fell asleep soon after settling in.

  And had some really weird dreams.

  2

  Another's Plight Will Keep Her Bound

  Monty whimpered softly beside me, his stubby legs flailing beneath the covers. Without opening my eyes, I reached out and placed a hand on his heaving chest. The touch, which usually soothed him, had no effect. He whimpered again, thrashing beneath the covers.

  Behind my eyelids a pale gray mist roiled, nebulous shapes shifting behind its obscuring veil.

  I tried to open my eyes, but they felt as if they were glued shut. Though I was half asleep, I had an awareness that I was becoming agitated.

  A distant scream jerked me fully awake, my eyes finally flying open.

  The mist filled my room. It was so thick I couldn’t even see my dog, but I could still feel his movements in the gentle quivering of the bed.

  I rose to my feet, eyes trained on the shadowy fog surrounding me. I was walking before I realized I’d moved. With a jolt, I glanced around, looking for the bed. For Monty.

  They were gone.

  Ahead of me stretched a long hallway roiling with the same shadow-filled fog. I sensed the walls on either side rather than seeing them. The floor beneath me was only real because I felt its rough surface against the soles of my bare feet.

  The shadows pressed closer, nearly close enough for me to form them into recognizable shapes. But they never lingered long enough for that.

  A rhythmic chanting chorus eased through the mist, its individual sounds lost in the drone of voices. I moved forward, searching for the source of the chanting. Then I was standing in an archway, the haze cold and moist against my skin. Shadowy figures stood in a large circle, arms outstretched and faces obscured by dark robes.

  The robed figures were in a low-ceilinged room. Cold air wafted from the room, permeating the air and painting the walls and floor with ice. My feet ached from the cold. Gooseflesh rose along my arms.

  The figures stood around a small fire, its flames burning through the fog but not heating it. Their hands reached toward the flickering blaze, which was contained within a large black cauldron. As the robed figures stretched toward the fire, fingers dancing in the creation of a spell, the thick, crimson contents of the cauldron bubbled up, spilling over the sides and hitting the floor with a sizzling sound.

  The resulting steam carried a sulfurous stench through the room, finding me where I stood. I wrinkled my nose, coughing as the brimstone stench bit at the back of my throat.

  I stilled, afraid my coughing would pull every gaze my way.

  But none of the figures’ heads turned.

  A different robed figure emerged from the fog. Though it wasn’t much bigger than a human, the figure seemed to rise up from the flames, the narrow strip of its face I could see beneath the hood was a chalky white, with crimson eyes that glowed red through the mist.

  The mouth was a wide, black slash filled with jagged teeth, a pointed tongue snapping out to taste the air as it approached the cauldron.

  I made a small sound of disgust, covering my mouth when I realized I’d given myself away.

  The ethereally glowing gaze lifted in my direction and widened with an emotion I couldn’t identify. Surprise? Pleasure?

  I reached for my magic, bracing for the bite of its power against my fingertips.

  Nothing happened. The magic didn’t answer my summons. Terror slid through me, digging at my gut with knifelike claws.

  The robed figure’s gaze fixed on me and the distance between us halved.

  I blinked, stumbling backward.

  The creature extended an arm, the skin like the thinnest paper, lit from within by the dancing light of the fire. It moved as if it had no feet, fairly floating on the air. Its gaze burned with malevolence. “Agnes Bethany Lenore,” the monster said, its long tongue snapping out from between way too many teeth when it spoke. “It is good you have come.”

  I retreated again, the urge to flee so strong it coated the back of my tongue.

  The monster blipped again, reappearing mere inches away. Tilting its hooded head, the creature smiled, the sight of its curved, black lips terrifying. “You and I have much to discuss.”

  I didn’t wait around for the thing to tell me what it wanted. I turned tail and ran, a sound like my rapidly beating heart following me through the mist.

  I jerked upright, my heart pounding. Monty lifted his head off the pillow and looked at me, the covers shifting as he wagged his tail.

  The nightmare clung to me as I shoved the covers off and lowered my feet to the floor. I shuddered at the memory and lowered my head into my hands.

  Too soon.

  It was too soon after the Hellmouth battle for me to be seeing demons again. I gave a harsh laugh. Who was I kidding? Ten years in the future would be too soon.

  I thought about the creature I’d seen. Had it been a demon? Or was my mind just so scarred from my recent experience that I saw the things wherever I went?

  Scrubbing at my face, I pulled air into my lungs and slowly released it, slowing my racing heart.

  Beyond my bedroom window, the sky was pink, orange, and purple. A sunrise palette. There was a light wind that made the tree branches dance, throwing shadows over my room. I shuddered again, remembering the shifting shapes in the mist from my nightmare.

  What had it meant? Was my mind still rehashing the dark magic that had called the vortex into existence?

  If so, why now?

  Maybe seei
ng the white horse the night before had thrown me back into thoughts of demons. Or maybe I was just a spaz with an overactive imagination.

  I shoved to my feet and shuffled toward the bathroom. Behind me, there was a soft thump as Monty’s fat doxie feet hit the carpet. “I’ll let you outside in a minute,” I told him.

  He sat in the doorway, watching every move as I did my morning thing and washed my hands. I’d like to say he was just that devoted to me. That he couldn’t get enough of spending time with me. But I’d be lying to myself.

  He was just making sure he didn’t miss the moment I grabbed his bowl and filled it with food.

  “Potty first,” I told the little dog as he danced around my feet all the way to the kitchen. “You know the drill.”

  He hung back as I headed for the mudroom door off the kitchen, clinging to that one last hope that I’d give in and feed him first.

  “Come on,” I told him, smiling at his hopeful little face. “Two minutes, and then you can eat. I don’t want any accidents in the house.”

  He sighed and trotted toward me, his floppy ears bouncing as he did. Flipping on the patio light, I let him outside and then, on a whim, went out with him. The morning was cool. But I was hot after tossing and turning for a good part of the night, and it felt good. I stood on the smooth patio stones and watched Monty run into the darkness to do his business in his favorite spot.

  I stared at the beautiful sunrise, feeling its normalcy soothe the last of my discomfort from the dream.

  A low, dark form bounded toward me from the cemetery. Wraith leaped into the air, twisting in mid-leap to paw at a small, dark shape flying past overhead.

  Bathilda dipped and fluttered, seemingly unconcerned with the feline pretending to stalk her.

  In slow degrees, my body calmed, and my nerves soothed. This was my home. My safe place. My posse. I shoved the nightmare away and pulled a long breath into my lungs, savoring the sweet floral scent of an abundance of flowers, courtesy of my naked gnome gardener.

  My world righted.

  I turned to the door. “Come on, Monty. Time to eat.”

  When he didn’t come immediately, I turned back. “Come on, buddy.”

  Nothing. I peered into the darkness. “Monty!”

  The night shifted to my right. I saw the movement out of the corner of my eye, and it didn’t sink in for a beat that something had changed.

  By the time I reached for my magic, she was already standing at the edge of the light, my dog cradled in her arms.

  “Hello, Aggy.”

  I started forward, intending to wrest my dog from a stranger’s clutches. But something in the way she held herself made me stop. “Do I know you?” I asked, my gaze sliding from her pretty face to Monty, who seemed surprisingly calm considering he didn’t generally trust strangers.

  The woman’s only reaction to my question was a slight tightening of her lips. “You do know me. However, I understand why you don’t recognize me. I’ve…” She frowned. “…changed.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Okay.”

  We stared at each other a moment, and then she sighed, settling Monty back onto the ground. My little hero promptly licked her ankle, which seemed to please rather than annoy her.

  “My dog likes you.” I tried a smile, but it was early and I was not in the mood for surprises. Or visitors. Or, particularly, surprising visitors.

  “I’m sorry to drop in on you like this,” the woman said as if reading my mind. “But I wanted to get here before your guests.”

  “My guests?” Then I realized she had to be talking about Trish and Luke. I opened my mouth to tell her they were my contractors but then realized they were much more than that. They were helping me with my remodeling, but they were also important members of my council and my friends. I added the fact that she’d obviously been watching me to the list of things that were making me uncomfortable. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here.”

  She stood with her hands clasped. Her copper-colored gaze fixed unwaveringly on me. I got the distinct impression she was waiting for me to do something.

  I had no idea what. And, since she didn’t seem inclined to leave, I decided the most expedient thing was to hear her out. “Would you like to come inside?”

  She flinched. “No.”

  Her response both intrigued and relieved me. I didn’t really want her inside my home.

  I motioned toward the iron and glass table on my little patio. “Sit?”

  With only a slight hesitation, the woman inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  “Coffee?”

  She shook her head. I took a moment to look her over, trying to see someone I’d known in the past. Appearing to be in her mid to late twenties, she was tall for a woman. Really tall. I noted that she wasn’t wearing shoes, but she still appeared to be several inches taller than my own five feet six inches. If I had to guess, she was close to six feet. The woman wore a thin, cotton dress with cap sleeves and a rounded neckline. It fit tightly over large breasts and wide hips and cinched in at her narrow waist. Her bare feet were clean and slender, on the small side for a woman of her height, I thought, and the toenails were painted in pretty pink polish. Her hair was blonde and surrounded her delicate face in a soft cloud of curls. The woman’s copper-colored eyes were unique enough that I was sure I’d have remembered them if I’d met her before. But, I didn’t see anything familiar in her face or form, which made me wonder how she could have changed that much. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to grab a cup. I’m not much use to anyone before I’ve had my coffee in the morning.”

  The woman smiled. “I understand.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some?”

  She hesitated and then nodded. “If you’re making it anyway. That would be great.”

  She sat down at the table when I went inside. I glanced outside and saw that her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying through the closed window. Monty sat at her feet, his gaze intent on her as she appeared to speak to him. By the time the first cup was finished, Wraith had also joined the woman at the table, doing figure eights around her slender ankles.

  I watched her surreptitiously through the kitchen window while the coffee brewed, wondering what magic she had that allowed her to so easily enthrall my fur-babies.

  Or maybe it wasn’t magic at all. Maybe she had a good soul, and Monty and Wraith recognized it.

  Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I gathered up the two mugs of coffee and headed back outside. Setting a steaming mug on the table in front of the woman, I sat down across from her. “Okay, I’m sorry, you have me at a disadvantage,” I told her. “Please tell me who you are.”

  The young woman lifted her gaze from the black cat wrapping itself around her calves and fixed me with that startling copper gaze. “I’m your ally, Madam Lares.” She cocked her head. “I was your travel buddy through the demonic vortex.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. Travel buddy? That could only be…

  My pulse pounded, and I set my mug down before I spilled its contents. Leaning forward, I narrowed my gaze on her, trying again to see the features I’d once known. They just weren’t there. Except maybe something in the eyes… “Layla?”

  3

  An Ally Come in Search of Aid

  “In the flesh,” Layla said with a bitter smile. “Such as it is.”

  I stared at her with my mouth open. The woman in front of me was a lost one. A devil who’d been cast out of the demonic realm for her crimes, which were unknown to me. Punishment for those crimes, ironically, appeared to be banishment to the earthly plane, which is reputedly the worst punishment given her kind.

  I had no idea why. I kind of liked the earthly plane.

  Princess Layla, however, claimed she and her people were different from other demonic folks. They apparently liked earth and had no desire to go back to the demon realm. We had that in common, at least.

  Whether it was true or not, there was no
doubt that she’d used her unique situation to help my people and me not once but several times recently, despite great danger to herself. And she’d offered to be my ally during the Hellmouth experience. She definitely got props for that.

  “How?” I asked, casting my gaze over her delicate features, even as I remembered the long, triangular head the slits for nostrils and the horrific collection of jagged teeth. The charcoal gray horns sticking out from the sides. The bloom of soft blonde hair…

  Ah…that at least hadn’t changed.

  Layla shrugged in response to my question. “We aren’t sure. But our healers have speculated that the entrance to the vortex stripped me of my devil when we went through, leaving behind only my human side.”

  Wraith leaped into her lap and sprawled there, belly up.

  “You had a human side?” I asked, shocked.

  She laughed. “Of course. All of Hades’ inhabitants have human sides. We aren’t proud of them, of course, but we have them.”

  I bit back a bark of laughter at that. It was beyond amazing that the lost royal princess preferred her heavy goatlike legs, horns, and snake-like nostrils to the attractive form sitting across from me. I was living in opposite world. My life was an episode of the Twilight Zone. I was down the rabbit hole, and the Queen of Hearts had horns.

  “Why did this happen?” I asked, still struggling with the reality sitting before me. Part of me didn’t trust it.

  “The Commander struck me as we left. I tasted the sting of his foul magic as we went through the gate.” She frowned. “It was in retaliation for my helping you escape his grip.”

  “The Commander?” I asked.

  “You remember the army marching toward the gate?”

  How could I forget? I especially remembered her warning. The warriors are amassing inside the vortex. Once they come out, it will be over.