Hexed (3 page)

KNOCK!
KNOCK!
KNOCK!

“C'mon, I know you're in there. Open the door.”

Lucifer stood stone-still. After a few moments, she saw the door handle start to move and jiggle as the person on the outside started to pick the lock. She could do it in a matter of seconds, so she knew it wouldn't take him very long to get the door open.

She had played with the idea of developing her own security system to keep local burglars and curious neighbors away. But anything above a dead bolt would tell them there was something in here worth protecting. The best deterrent she had was that, to average eyes, she had nothing of value. Yet, to those who walked in the same circles as Lucifer, she was sitting on a gold mine.

Lucifer ducked behind the front door, squeezing her wiry shoulders into the corner and hiding in the shadows. The doorknob continued to wiggle and click as the man struggled to unlock the door. It was painful to watch. Whoever it was obviously didn't have a lot of experience breaking into places. It was taking so long that Lucifer was almost tempted to reach over and unlock the door for him, but if he couldn't get it open, maybe he would just give up and go away.

The handle clicked, and a thin line of light sliced across the room as the door opened. Lucifer pulled herself into the corner as tightly as she could. The man stood in the open doorway, his massive shadow stretching across the floor. He stepped into the apartment and slowly closed the door behind him. Even in the darkness, Lucifer could tell that he was one of the largest men she had ever seen. He was close to seven feet tall, and his muscles were almost comically huge. And he was most definitely a cop. The thick navy fabric of his South Haven police uniform stretched to near bursting across the bulk of his chest. His hand rested on the handle of the pistol holstered at his side, and his baton looked like a toy pencil as it clacked against the back of his heavy thigh when he moved.

Lucifer ran through the mental list of reasons the police might be after her. By the time she got to reason number 15, she decided it didn't matter. She had to get out of there, even if that meant leaving everything behind. She'd stolen it all once before; she could steal it all again.

“Lucifer, I know you're here. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

She wanted to laugh. Lucifer knew that “I just want to talk” was code for “Stand still so I can kill you without having to work up a sweat.” It was such a dead giveaway that Lucifer wondered why anyone would ever bother saying it.
Abestado.

Fortunately, she knew how to take care of herself, even against bigger guys like him (though she had to admit she'd never seen anyone
that
big before). Most thugs would use their size to intimidate people, so they never really had to learn how to do anything other than growl and sneer. The threat of violence was enough. But this guy was a cop. Which meant that not only was he gargantuan, he was trained in hand-to-hand combat. That made Lucifer nervous.

Surprise was her only advantage. As quickly as she could, she shot forward and kicked him in the back of the knee, putting all of her weight into it. His knee buckled and he toppled backward, turning as he fell. Lucifer then made for the door but felt a hand as large as a dinner plate wrap around her arm. On instinct, she brought her free fist up under the arm that was holding her and hit the man in the armpit. Normally, his grip should have slackened, but he had so much muscle that her punch was ineffective. Without missing a beat, she took another swing at his head then buried her heel in his solar plexus. He let out a sudden, deep gasp that sent spittle flying in her face. But still he held on.

“Will . . . you . . . stop!” the cop wheezed. He twisted her arm, trying to force her to the ground, but Lucifer used the momentum to swing her body behind him and pull his own arm across his throat. She wrapped her legs around his massive torso and locked her arms under his elbow, pressing his forearm into his windpipe. He gasped, trying to say something but couldn't get enough air.

Lucifer knew that she couldn't hold on to him for much longer. He was too strong. Even with the right leverage, a girl as small as she was could only do so much to a guy as big as him. The cop suddenly jumped to his feet and grabbed Lucifer's wrist with his free hand and used her own arm as a fulcrum to pull her grip free. He turned faster than a man his size should have been able to and shoved her back, sending Lucifer tumbling across the floor. She came to a stop in a crouch. The cop was blocking her way to the door, but she could easily make the window before he could get to her. And he was too big to follow her.

“Would you calm down! I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Oh, you've got that right.”

Lucifer pretended to make for the door, forcing the cop to move to block her. He was quick, but with all his weight it would take him longer to change his direction. She pushed off the ball of her foot, ricocheting back toward the window. The cop almost lost his balance trying to follow her movement.

“No! Wait, please!”

The curtain slapped her in the face when she dove through the open window, stinging her cheeks. Lucifer grabbed the edge of the windowsill to keep herself from falling to the alley below. She was about to climb down when she heard the cop say, “Lucifer, I need your help!”

She hung for a moment, motionless. She watched a balding cat jump out a nearby Dumpster with some sort of prize hanging from its mouth and wondered if it was an omen. If it was, did it mean that she was the cat or the dead thing hanging from its mouth?

Lucifer put that thought from her mind and looked down to the concrete below. All she had to do was climb down and she'd be gone. Disappeared. So then why wasn't she moving? There had been something in the cop's voice that she recognized: desperation. Unfortunately, it was a tone that she was all too familiar with. So she took a deep breath, gave the alley cat a withering scowl, then pulled herself up to peek through the window.

The cop was sitting on the floor with his legs splayed to his sides. He was hunched forward with his head in his hands, his police cap on the floor next to him. He was so lost in his despair that he didn't notice Lucifer staring at him. He looked completely and utterly defeated.

Lucifer had a horrible feeling that she was going to regret what she was about to do. It was a feeling she'd had numerous times in the past, and every single time she
had
regretted it. Yet, for some reason, she always ignored the feeling, regardless of how much trouble she knew she was going to get into. Why should this time be any different?

She rested her chin on the edge of the windowsill and watched him for a moment.
Last
chance.
All
you
have
to
do
is
drop
down
and
run.
But then she chided herself for even thinking it.

“What kind of help do you need?”

CHAPTER 3

The cop's name was Buck Pierce. He sat on Lucifer's beanbag as if he had just laid a sad, deflated egg. He held his police hat in his hands, fiddling the brim with a thumb nearly as thick as Lucifer's wrist. He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped as if he was unsure of what he wanted to say.

Lucifer sat on the floor across from him, waiting. She watched him glance around at the various trinkets and books littering her tiny apartment, his thick brows scrunched in thought. “Where are your parents?” he asked.

“Mom's in Heaven, dad's in Hell. I'm assuming, anyway.”

He brought his gaze back to her. “I'm sorry to hear that. So, you live here alone?” he asked, giving her an accusatory look.

Lucifer leaned back and folded her arms. “I do.”

“You know you have to live with a legal guardian until you're eighteen. What about grandparents? Older brother or sister?”

“Look, Buck—”

“Officer Pierce.”

Lucifer curled the corner of her mouth in a twisted smile. “I have a rule. If I can put you in a headlock, I get to call you by your first name.” She paused to let the concept sink in, then said, “I've been on my own since I was little girl. I don't have any family or friends. All I have is . . .”
Her
, she almost said. Lucifer unconsciously looked to the object under the bedsheet then back to Buck. “Me.”

Buck pinched the bridge of his nose and gave her a small nod. “I know how tough life can be for a kid on the streets. I see it every day. It's not safe out there for a girl your age. For a girl . . .”

Buck grimaced and turned away. He covered his face with one massive hand and held up the other, silently asking for a moment to compose himself. It was a strange sight, seeing a man cry, though Lucifer knew he wasn't crying for her.

He turned back, snorting like a bull and said, “Sorry, it's just that I have a daughter your age and she's . . .” Buck took a deep breath. “She's missing. And I need your help finding her.”

Lucifer sat still for a moment before saying, “Uh, why come to me? Shouldn't you, you know . . .” Lucifer gestured toward his uniform.

“Go to the police? I've been a cop for twenty-five years and I've seen plenty of crazy things, but this . . . I can't. They wouldn't believe me. Not even my partner. That's why I came to you. A friend said you'd be able to help me.”

A cold wave passed over Lucifer. She stood slowly and let a hint of anger seep into her voice. “
What
friend?”

“She asked me not to tell you.”

“Did she. Let me guess. Eight feet tall, sallow skin, having a bad hair century?”

“What?” Buck scowled in confusion. “No, 5'4'', pale Caucasian, white hair cut to her jawline. Who are you talking about?”

Lucifer let out a sigh of relief. “No one.” She glanced back at the object beneath the bedsheet. “No one at all.” Lucifer was glad it wasn't who she thought it was but uneasy with the idea that someone else was keeping an eye on her. Lucifer did not like being on people's radar. Especially people she didn't know. “So, how does this friend of yours know about me and what exactly did she say?”

“That you were familiar with situations like this. That you were a . . .” He cleared his throat. “That you're a witch.”

Lucifer couldn't stop laughing. “A witch? Seriously? Wow, is your friend off the mark. I'm not a witch. Not even close.”

“Then what are you?” he asked.

Lucifer gave him a broad smile. “I'm a
thief
.”

“A thief.”

“Don't worry. I don't rob banks or pick pockets. I specialize in stealing . . .
other
things.”

Buck tilted his head like a dog trying to understand its master. “What kind of things?”

Lucifer wasn't sure how much detail she wanted to go into. He was a cop, after all, and stealing was stealing. She was taking a big chance just by talking with him. “Let's just say that there are bad things in the world. And there are bad people who want to use those bad things for bad purposes. So I steal those things before they can.”

She could see Buck trying to work it out in his head, but it would be impossible for someone unfamiliar with her world to truly understand. “I don't know how your friend knows about me, but you can tell her that she has no idea what she's taking about. And why would she even think a witch could help you find a runaway—”

“She didn't run away. She was
taken
. Right in front of me.” Buck's eyes went out of focus as he spoke, as if he were trying to remember a nightmare against his will. “I just got home from my shift, and Gina was upstairs in her room. She was supposed to be staying with friends, but something scared her and she came home. She said it was a movie, but that was a lie. I knew it when she said it, but she wasn't lying about being scared. I'd never seen her that frightened. At first, I thought she had a boy hiding in her closet. That she was scared I had caught her. But it wasn't.”

His eyes came back in focus, and he looked at Lucifer. There was a wildness to his expression, a desperation. His voice fell almost to a whisper. “It happened so fast. Gina was there, standing in front of her mirror, and then . . . then she wasn't. Something reached out from the mirror and snatched her like she was nothing but a rag doll.” He shook as his hands clenched into fists. “Lucifer, something took her and I don't know how to get her back.”

Lucifer walked over and put her hands around one of his fists. “It's okay, calm down.”

“How can I be calm? Do you understand what I'm telling you? Someone or . . .
something
pulled my little girl
into
a mirror! How is something like that even possible?”

He was standing now, hovering over Lucifer with his chest heaving. He was clearly not a man used to being helpless, especially when it came to his daughter. Lucifer walked over to a pile of books and began scanning the titles. “What did the mirror look like?”

“The vanity? You mean the thing that grabbed her?”

“That too, but first things first. The vanity.”

Buck held his hands palms up, shrugging his shoulders. “I don't know, it looked like a teenaged girl's vanity. What does that have to do with anything?”

Lucifer found the book she wanted then walked over to the object across the room and yanked the bedsheet away. Underneath was a tall, full-length standing mirror set in a dark mahogany frame. Strange and exotic symbols were carved along its edge, and there were smooth areas of black beneath the dark red stain where countless hands had handled the mirror over the centuries. So many times Lucifer had wanted to throw it away, but for some reason, she could never bring herself to do it.

“Did it have any of these symbols carved into it?”

Buck took a step backward, his eyes wide. “What is that?”

“What's it look like? It's a mirror, now focus. Did Gina's vanity have any of these symbols or not?”