Hot Magic (24 page)

“Oh, he’ll let them go. But what condition will they be in? Make no mistake, Abigor has bargaining power in this game.”

“I don’t understand, Joe. What does he want to bargain for? Why is he risking war?”

“Abigor tires of the old rules. Now that he’s vanquished his archenemy, Ashakarin, he’s turned his focus toward earth. You’ve heard of the increase in crime and gangs? That’s our crew. People are afraid. That is the first step. Abigor wants dominion over the earth.”

“How evil!” But clever. Even she locked her doors now.

“He’s planted the seed, Julie. He’ll slowly turn fear to chaos. More and more, we will walk the earth until we control it.”

“What’s your role in all this? Are you on earth to create chaos in the research lab?”

He laughed. “You seem to be doing that job yourself.”

She gripped the phone tighter, but said nothing.

He sighed. “My sole purpose on earth is to seduce you.”

“Ha! Like I haven’t heard that line a few times.” He didn’t laugh. She swallowed hard. “Okay, say I take that statement at face value. Why would a demon be sent to earth to seduce a social worker?”

“Abigor wants you in Gehenna, willingly. I thought making you fall for me would be the easiest way to convince you to come to Gehenna.”

“Bad choice and big ego, Demon Boy. Kidnapping my daughter works better. Why does this Abigor fellow want me in Gehenna?”

“The prophecy, Julie.”

“What prophecy?”

“‘A daughter shall be born in light and shadow, a guardian who rises out of evil. Wild power circles her and chaos follows her footsteps.’” Joe recited the words. “That’s from the Triad book of prophecy,
Words of Wisdom
.”

“So what has it got to do with me?” Julie shifted, uneasy.

Joe didn’t answer her directly. “The demon prophecies are remarkably similar to yours, only they make a bigger deal about the mayhem and destruction part, as you might expect. They speak of the One who will usher in an age of chaos.”

“I repeat, what has this got to do with me?”

“Let’s just say that Abigor considers you a ‘person of interest’. He’s been waiting for you to come into your power. He believes you might be the Queen of Chaos, the One.”

She did not need this right now. “I may only clean my bedroom once a week, and, okay, my junk mail pile is out of control, but that hardly qualifies me to usher in an age of chaos.” A thousand questions floated in her brain. How to free Tasha kept rising to the top. “Here’s the deal. Free Tasha, and I’ll come with you to Gehenna.

“No.” Joe’s voice hardened. “This is the deal. Come with me to Gehenna and I’ll free your daughter.”

“Stop talking this way!” Her semi-calmness evaporated. Her brain couldn’t handle any more. “Just get Tasha and Luc, and come back to work and we’ll pretend like none of this ever happened.”

“Don’t start making up a fantasy world for yourself, Julie. If you want to see your daughter again, meet me at the Gates of Gehenna at 7:30 pm.”

“Joe, how can you threaten me and my daughter like this? You’re a statistician. A thoughtful, reasonable…demon.”
 

“One hour, Julie. Be there at 7:30 pm., or your daughter will be sorry.” The phone cut off.

Julie stared in disbelief at the phone in her hand. She pushed the redial button, but got a non-working number.
 

Okay. Think. She took a deep breath. She couldn’t think. Her mind just whirled like a mini-tornado inside her head. But what was there to think about anyway? She had no choice. When Jeffrey came to get her, she’d already be gone. Call her crazy, but she’d rather go to Gehenna with a demon she knew than one she’d just met in a coffee shop.

She was halfway out the door before it hit her. She didn’t know where the Gates of Gehenna were located.

“D
orie, I don’t have much time, so I need you to hurry. Get on the Internet and plug Chicago Gates of Gehenna, Chicago Gates of Hell, anything like that, into a search engine.” Her mother’s laptop was nowhere to be found, so Jean must have taken it with her.

“Jeez, Jules, it’s almost seven. I need to give the boys a bath and get them into bed.”

“Tash’s life depends on it.”

“Jim, get the boys started in the tub!” Dorie yelled to her husband. “Okay,” she said in a more normal voice, “I’m heading toward the office. Logging on to my computer. Clicking on the Internet browser….”

The play-by-play comforted Julie. She closed her eyes and waited, seconds ticking off in her head.

“Hey, did you know that in 1880, Rodin created models for something he called the Gates of Hell?”

“Are they currently in Chicago?” She somehow managed not to yell.

“No, doesn’t look like it.”
 

“Dorie! Focus. Did I not make it clear that time is of the essence?”
 

“Sorr-eeee.” There was a pause. “I’m scrolling through the hits. While I do that, fill me in on what’s happening.”

Talking was better than biting her nails. Julie quickly brought Dorie up to date.

“Okay, so Tasha is in some holding cell in Hell. And in order to save her, you have to trade yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

“Why do they want you?”

Dorie always had very good questions. “I might be the prophesied Queen of Chaos.”

“Is there a King?”

“Joe didn’t mention that.” Julie could hear the rising note of hysteria in her own voice.

“Forget the prophecy, Julie. You know who you are.” Dorie sounded remarkably calm, an anchor in the midst of madness.

“I do?”

“You do,” she replied firmly. “I’m almost through the first ten screens. There’s nothing, Jules, nothing useful.”

Julie stomped down the panic that wanted to explode through her body. “Thanks anyway.”

“I may not have any super powers or anything, but if there is anything I can do—anything—just let me know. Humans can be pretty resourceful people.”

Julie swallowed the lump in her throat. She wished Dorie were with her right now. But she had a husband and two kids and needed to be kept safe. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

She clicked off her phone and looked at her watch. Thirty minutes to go. Unless Harry and Bas showed up, there was nothing to do but hop into a cab and drive around the city. If her mother had amassed the local Triad members, surely a crowd at this time of the evening would be noticeable. Her mother never did anything quietly.
 

She picked up the pad beside the phone, intending to leave a message for Harry. Something along the lines of:
Off to save daughter through trade-off with demon. Hope your curse is broken and you have a happy life. Affectionately, Julie.

She paused, pen to paper, trying to think of something more personal to write. Nope, she couldn’t come up with anything. She tapped the pad in frustration and noticed the small indentations on the pink paper. Suddenly, a scene from
North by Northwest
clicked into her head—the one where Cary Grant is in Eva Marie Saint’s hotel room, trying to figure out where she’s gone. Eva receives a message on the telephone, writes it down on a pad of paper and then tears off the top sheet and puts it in her purse. After she leaves, Cary runs a pencil over the sheet that had been beneath it, and is able to read the message.
 

Mom had gotten a phone call from Phyllis about the location of the Gates of Gehenna. Had she jotted it down on her note pad? Holding her breath, Julie traded the pen for a pencil and rubbed it sideways, firmly, across the paper. A phrase appeared in white:
 
Devil’s Brew Coffee Shoppe.

The portal to Gehenna went through a coffee shop. How diabolically clever.
 

Grabbing her purse, she headed out the door. She had twenty minutes to find the place.

“H
ere you go, lady. Devil’s Brew. Best damn coffee in Chicago.” The taxi driver, who drove like he was permanently wired on caffeine and therefore should know, pulled up to a trendy brick coffee shop just off of Michigan Avenue in an upscale shopping area. An extra twenty had gotten Julie there in fifteen minutes. She threw more money at the driver and got out, barely noticing when he drove away.
 

Everything else on the block, mostly boutique clothing stores, had already closed. A red, neon “Open 24 Hours” sign blinked in the coffee shop window. Next to it, painted directly on the glass, was a figure of a red devil with horns and a pointed tail, drinking a cup of coffee that had a little flame on it. The word “Heavenly!” floated in a thought bubble over his head. Too cute.

The coffee shop was lit, but looked deserted from her position on the street. Where were Mom and her entourage? Was she at the right place? Was Devil’s Brew a franchise and she’d picked the wrong one? Had her mother just written that word on her phone pad because she liked the coffee?

A thousand questions and doubts bombarded her as she pushed her way through the door. A little bell jingled, announcing her entrance. Round, wooden tables were scattered around the room, interspersed with overstuffed chairs pushed together in cozy seating arrangements. Plants and oak abounded, as well as the scent of strong, rich coffee. A polished oak counter ran along the wall to the left. A young woman emerged from a door behind it, a welcoming smile on her face.

“Hello. Can I help you?” The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She wore jeans and a white T-shirt, covered with a bright, orange bib apron. The same coffee-guzzling devil from the window decorated her oversized pocket. Her brown hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her blue eyes sparkled with more energy. Julie glanced at the big clock on the wall behind the woman—7:25 p.m.

Five minutes until her deadline. She marched up to the counter. “Excuse me, are you a demon?”

The woman’s smile took on a wicked edge. “Some of my boyfriends have called me that. Who wants to know?”

“Julie Dancer.”

“Ah, Ms. Dancer. We’ve been expecting you. Have a seat, and I’ll be right back.”

The woman went back through the door behind the counter. At least Julie had the right place. She gripped the counter, trying to still the tension thrumming through her. She couldn’t run. She had to do this. She had no choice.

At first she thought the loud noise pounding in her ears was her heart. Then she realized it came from the street. She ran back to the door and looked out. Mom marched down the sidewalk, followed by a group of elderly women in pink T-shirts. Behind them followed a crowd of people that extended halfway down the block. But what caused Julie to almost sink to the floor with relief was the sight of Harry. He strode on one side of Mom, Bas on the other. The cavalry had arrived. Too late, but she would have a chance to see Harry and her mom one more time.

She ran out the door onto the sidewalk. Harry did not look as happy to see her, as she was to see him.

“What in bloody hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be safe at your mother’s.” He stopped in front of her and barked out the question.

“She made a deal with me.” Joe’s voice came from behind her shoulder.

A collective gasp arose from the group now forming a large semi-circle around the coffee shop. The round, accusing eyes of the Triad members focused on her. She looked over her shoulder at Joe. His expression held a possessive quality as he smiled at her. Yikes.
 

“No.” Harry’s clipped voice brought her attention back to him. He stared calmly at her, waiting for her to deny it. “I told you it’s forbidden for Triad members to enter into deals or contracts with demons.”

“Harry, normally I wouldn’t. But this is about Tash’s life.” Julie didn’t want Harry to think less of her for breaking one of his precious rules.

“No matter what the cause, you do not make deals with demons. You’re Triad.”

“Is she?” Joe put his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think so.” Harry’s gaze sliced to the hand on her shoulder. He looked back at her, as if waiting for her to shrug it off. She stood quietly.

“Get your paws off my daughter.” Jean rushed forward and pushed Joe backward, severing his connection with Julie.

“Mom!” Julie quickly glanced at Joe, but he seemed more amused than angry.

“Julie.” Harry’s hand reached out to her. “Come here.”

She stared at his hand, imagining how it would feel in hers. Hard, warm, safe. With a sigh, she asked him the one question that mattered, studying his face as she did so. “Can you get Tasha out?”

“Yes.” He responded with no hesitation. Honesty and determination were stamped on his features. “We’ve been in contact with Abigor.”

“Can you guarantee that Abigor won’t hurt her?”

“Can he?” He nodded toward Joe. She noticed he hadn’t answered the question.

“Yes.”

“Did you specifically ask him if Tasha would be returned to you unharmed?”

She racked her brain, trying to remember the conversation. “I guess I didn’t, but he implied he could get her out safely if I made his deadline.”

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, an unusual show of emotion for him. “Ask him, Julie,” he growled the words.