A Cast-Off Coven (33 page)

The demon had temporarily possessed two people, which meant he had some kind of connection to them. Walker Landau was in a locked facility, so he wouldn’t be drawn to the School of Fine Arts during tonight’s exorcism. He’d be safe.

But the same couldn’t be said for Luc.

I hurried back into the hospital lobby, found a pay phone, and dialed Max’s cell phone. He answered, sounding distracted, and in the background I heard raised voices and shouting, the sounds of a newsroom.

“Miss me already, huh?”

I smiled. “I do. Max, is Luc still staying with your dad?”

“For the moment.”

“I need you to do me a favor, and I need you to do it without asking questions.”

“Again?” There was a pause. “Is this one of those relationship exercises like in those women’s magazines, ‘Ten Ways to Know If Your Man Really Trusts You’?”

“I wish. Will you do it?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go over to your dad’s house tonight, and make sure Luc stays there. Physically restrain him if necessary. Under no circumstances is he to go to the school tonight.”

“What’s going on?”

“No questions, remember? Just do this for me, please.”

“All right.” I could practically hear Max, proud mythbuster and self-described man of reason, grinding his teeth as he imagined the magical hijinks I would be getting up to tonight. “But we need to talk about this, and soon.”

“I know. We will.”

After we hung up, I felt gnarled fingers of self-doubt wrap themselves around my heart. Last night had been magical—and not only in the witchy sense—but could I ever be completely myself around Max? Would I have to deal with his doubt at every turn?

I fished in my bag for more coins and called the store to see if Maya had gotten in touch with Ginny. She hadn’t, and Maya said Marlene wasn’t answering the phone, either, so I asked for their home address along with directions. I would bet my familiar Ginny was somehow involved. It was past time for us to have a heart-to-heart chat.

Ginny had seen something in the mirror in the closet, I was sure of it. She had also said something to Walker Landau about a long-ago murder. And she had experienced sudden—and improbable—career success.

Funny, elfin little Ginny, who hadn’t been smiling much of late despite her artistic dreams having come true.

Thirty minutes later, I nosed the van into the driveway of a well-tended stucco row house in Glen Park. Pretty flowering plants in terra-cotta Mexican pots adorned the short flight of terrazzo stairs up to the landing. On the front door was a modern version of the traditional welcoming wreath, made of scraps of colored paper that fluttered in the afternoon breeze.

“Lily. What a surprise,” Todd said as he answered my knock. His eyes flickered behind me, as if to check on whether I’d brought backup. He made no move to invite me in.

“Hi, Todd.” All the way over I had debated whether to confront Todd with what Walker had told me about the blackmail note. I decided, for now at least, to keep mum. Presuming Walker talked to the police, it would be a moot point, anyway. And if Walker didn’t speak with Carlos Romero soon, I would tell the inspector everything I knew. For the moment, I thought, discretion would be the better part of valor. “Is Ginny here?”

“As a matter of fact, she’s not.”

“How about Marlene?”

“Now’s probably not the best time—”

“You told the police I had to
close
my school!” Marlene shouted as she came to the door. She was dressed in an old pair of blue jeans, her hair was loose and unkempt, and I caught a strong whiff of alcohol. “How dare you!”

“It’s necessary, Marlene,” I said. “Just for a few days.”

“You—”

“Marley,” Todd said quietly. Marlene glared at me, spun on her heel in a huff, and retreated.

“Is she okay?” I asked.

“She’ll be fine. Sorry about this, but Marley’s not quite herself at the moment.”

“Do you know where Ginny is?”

He shook his head.

“I know this is going to sound weird, but could I take a quick look at her room?”

“Her room? I don’t think—”

“Todd, this is important.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. But I need to see if there’s anything . . . unusual. It’s related to the haunting of the school.”

“You think Ginny’s involved?”

“Unwittingly involved, yes.”

After another brief hesitation, and a glance behind him, Todd stepped back and let me in. “This way,” he said.

About halfway down a short hallway, I noticed the unmistakable aroma of rotten eggs—sulfur.

Todd opened a door and nodded. I noted a line of salt had been poured across the threshold as though to keep out evil spirits.

On Ginny’s desk and tacked to the walls were dozens of pieces of paper with Sitri’s sigil sketched upon them. Some of the drawings were elaborate, in full color with curlicue embellishments; others were crude and child-like, as if drawn by another hand entirely.

A black cloth was draped over what I guessed was a mirror atop a cherry dresser. Several books on witchcraft—all of which looked to be of the peace-loving Wiccan variety—were scattered near the bed. A Ouija board was set out on the floor, alongside a splayed tarot deck and a thick tome,
How to Interpret the Magical Tarot
. Protective sachets hung over the doors and window, and the room was filled with white candles—lots and lots of white candles.

The sensations in the room were chaotic. Portals were half opened, spirits half formed. Someone here had been playing with magic, and she’d had enough power to get into trouble but nowhere near enough to get herself out.

My concentration was broken by the sound of a tussle in another part of the house. Female voices—Marlene’s and Ginny’s—were raised in argument. The voices drew nearer.

“Don’t go in there!” Marlene said. “Don’t—”

“It was an accident,” Ginny cried. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes. “I never meant to do anything, Lily!”

Marlene started into the room, but Todd stopped her, his voice low and reassuring. “Let them talk, Marley. Maybe Lily can help.”

“Ginny, this is important,” I said. “Tell me everything that’s been going on, how it all started.”

“I can’t. You’ll think I’m crazy.” Ginny cried softly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

“I really won’t.”

“It was the closet. On the third floor. Before we even opened it, there was something about it—it felt like it was calling to me. As though the door . . . as though something wanted me to open the door. I couldn’t stand it. I had to know what was in there.”

I nodded. Ginny clearly had some psychic ability, however untrained. I wasn’t surprised she would have felt the energy emanating from such a place of bound power.

“What happened when you opened the door?”

“Nothing, at first. Mom had to break the handle to get it open, but then it was just a regular old closet, kind of. It was hard to see, and there was no light switch, so I lit the candelabra sitting on the dresser.”

“Do you remember the order you lit the candles in? Think carefully.”

“Order?” She had pushed up one sleeve and was picking at her forearm; I noticed a series of scratches, red and angry looking.

“All in a row, one after the other, or randomly?”

“Randomly, I think.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t really paying attention. But after I lit them, I felt something. I’ve always been a little . . . you know—I could feel things, see things sometimes. And then I found this.”

From under the drawings on her desk she extracted a piece of paper, crumbly and yellowed with age. On it was sketched Sitri’s sigil.

“It was in the middle of the floor, with a knife stuck through it, pinned to the floorboards. Mom got weirded out and left. But I figured, if there really was some . . .
thing
in the closet, that was, like, his avatar.” She twined a finger in her hair, and I noticed several strands came loose. Ginny was falling apart.

“Did you pull the knife out?”

She nodded, then opened a desk drawer and handed me a beautiful, antique
athame
, a ceremonial knife used for spells.

“And then I saw something in the mirror . . .” Ginny continued. “And I started thinking about that damned Andi, with her big art show, and I remember thinking that if I had a rich father like she did, I’d be famous, too . . . and it was almost like the face in the mirror
wanted
me to ask for help. I must have fallen asleep or something. I must have been dreaming. But I asked for help.”

“You called on the demon?”

“No. No way. I wouldn’t do that.”

“What
did
you do?”

“This sounds crazy, I know, but it was like the voices in the mirror were telling me to ask
our lord
for help. I didn’t know what they meant. It kind of scared the crap out of me, but they said it would grant my wish. Sort of like a genie.”

Or a demon.

“Was this when the sounds of the bell tower started getting louder?”

“Yeah, how’d you know? I mean, a few of us had heard things for, like, years, but nothing like it’s been lately. But you’re right—it sorta started after we opened the closet. I tried to, like, sort of like stop it.”

“Stop it, how? Did you do anything to bind him?”

“Him who?”

“The demon.”

“The
what
?” Marlene hovered at the door, though Todd kept her from entering the room. I concentrated on Ginny.

“It wasn’t a Genie?”

“Not by a long shot, I’m afraid. Ginny, please. This is very important. The one the voices referred to as
our lord
. Did you try to bind him?”

“What does that even mean?” Ginny coughed into her hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t feel very good.”

She looked awful, too, and no wonder. Ginny had compromised her soul, however unwittingly.

“Tell me what you did to try to stop it. Did you perform an exorcism, cast a spell?”

“An
exorcism
?” Ginny looked at me as if I were nuts. “Like in the movie? Are you crazy?”

I reined in my impatience and fear. “Just tell me what you did.”

“I was afraid to go back to the closet, so I tried to communicate through my old Ouija board. We used to do it at slumber parties when we were kids, and even though my friends thought it was just a game, I always felt like I actually heard something. And then I tried to read the tarot, but I don’t know that much about it and didn’t make it through the book. There’s more to that stuff than you’d think.”

“Yes, there is,” I said.

“Ginny had nothing to do with Jerry’s death!” Marlene interrupted from the doorway.

“I know that, Marlene,” I said. “She was with me when it happened.”

“He left her money for a scholarship in his will.” Marlene started to cry. “So the police are saying she had a motive.”

“Not a very strong one,” I replied, my eyes still on Ginny, who was looking more and more distressed. “And it’s a moot point, anyway. Ginny didn’t hurt anyone.”

“It was the ghost,” Ginny said with another cough and a sniff. “I don’t know why nobody believes it, what with everything that’s been going on. I mean,
hello.
Even Mom believes it.”

I glanced at Todd, who was watching Ginny closely.

“Lily, can you help me? Make this stop?” Ginny sank onto her bed. “I don’t know what’s going on. . . . I’m so confused. And I feel like crap. I think I’ve got the flu.”

“I’ll help you, Ginny—of course I will. But you
have
to stay here tonight. Do
not
go near the school. Understood?” Ginny nodded, looking relieved. I turned to Todd and Marlene. “Whatever you may think of me, trust me on this: You must keep Ginny at home tonight. Tie her down and sit on her, if you have to. Under no circumstances allow her to leave the house. Clear on that?”

Todd and Marlene nodded.

“What else can we do?” Todd asked.

“Fetch me a large garbage bag. Let’s get this Ouija board out of here. Grab all the sigils, too.”

“The what?”

“These drawings.”

Marlene started collecting the sigils as Todd returned with the trash bag.

“No! I need those for a project I’m working on!” Ginny gasped, a feverish glint in her eyes.

“Trust me,” I said. “This is one project you do
not
want to finish.”

Ginny was in bad shape, but modern medicine could do nothing for her, and neither could my botanicals and brews. The only thing that would help Ginny was for me to confront and disable Sitri. If only I knew exactly how.

 

On my way back to Aunt Cora’s Closet, I decided it was worth one more stop by Aidan’s place, just to clarify a few issues, and to be sure I wasn’t still lacking anything obvious.

After another brief verbal skirmish with the young woman in the booth, I made my way up the stairs and through the wax figures to Aidan’s office. This time, before I had even knocked, I heard a voice beckoning me to enter.

“Lily! What a lovely surprise. Stop by for tea?”

“Not exactly. I’m going up against the demon tonight, and I think I figured out why you can’t help me. You know him, don’t you?”

Aidan looked at me so long, I thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“I do. Many years ago, Jerry Becker came to me. He told me about releasing the demon and making a deal with him. But he wanted out of their agreement. He needed my help to exorcise the demon.”

“I thought it wasn’t possible to renege on that kind of agreement.”

“It’s not easy. The cost is prohibitive for most. Becker forfeited part of his soul. He was never a whole man afterward.”

“When was this?”

“Some time ago.”

“When Jerry was a young man? But you couldn’t be more than, what, thirty-five or forty?” I may not know algebra, but I did know how to add and subtract.