Kindling the Moon (25 page)

“Bob?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

I sighed. “He's this guy at the bar. A regular. He's a pretty good healer—Earthbound, of course—so I asked him to come over and help her out.” I tilted my head toward the basement. “Told Bob that she was my cousin, and that she's the one who stole the car. Him and his buddy drove it back to La Sirena. Bob's got a crush on me, so he was happy to do it.”

He made a low, disapproving noise. “Are you and this Bob …?”

“What? God no! Bob is a supernice guy, but he's kinda like a stinky stray dog with one leg—you feel sorry for him, but not enough to bring him home.”

“Hmph.”

“If you met him, you'd understand.”

“I don't handle jealousy well,” Lon said. “I'm warning you.”

“Well, I'm a bartender, so I get hit on a
lot
. I'm just warning
you
.”

“I don't like to share.” I could tell by the way he said it that he meant it.

“Me neither,” I agreed.

I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and I guess that was that. In what I was just beginning to realize was typical for him, he didn't dwell on matters once they were settled in his mind. When he was finished with something, he was truly finished. It was a tidy way of living, and I envied him for being able to do it so effortlessly.

So I guessed we were back on again, though exactly what that entailed, I had no idea, and I doubted Lon did either.

“We didn't read the last page of the spell,” he said out of the blue.

“Huh?”

“The memory spell. The Wheel. We missed a short paragraph on another page. I guess we were too distracted at the time.” He gave me a soft smile, then continued. “You don't get the memories straight back. The person who casts the spell does.”

“Explain, please.”

“I had a dream last night that made me go back and check the spell.” He reached behind him and picked up the book he'd brought—the tandem memory spells. He sat down next to me on the couch.

“The Wheel spell moved the memory fragments to me,” he said. “The reasoning is that a fresh pair of eyes looking at old memories will give a different perspective and see things you might have missed or buried.”

His fingers flipped open the book to a blue marker; he showed me the page we'd missed. The memories could surface in the spell caster as visions or dreams. I closed the book and looked up at him, suddenly self-conscious. It was one
thing to share my emotions with him, but my memories were another thing entirely. “What was your dream?”

“I was seeing things from your point of view. You were young, a child, sitting at a small table playing with wooden puzzle pieces. They had astrological symbols and names on them.”

“Yes!” I said in astonishment. “My dad gave that to me. A round puzzle of the zodiac.”

Lon nodded. “Your mother was standing in front of the table. Dark hair, very pretty. Tall. You were right about favoring her. Spitting image. Not her eyes, though.”

“No, I have my dad's.”

He smiled softly, then continued relating the dream. “Your mother was speaking with a transparent being with feathers and tufted ears. She called the being Scivina.”

“Yes, that's right.” My pulse quickened as excitement rose inside me. “Scivina is my mom's guardian. Like mine, Priya— the one Riley Cooper had killed.”

Lon brightened with curiosity. “Both are Hermeneus spirits, right? I've seen them mentioned occasionally in grimoires.”

“Yep. Messenger entities. They're finicky, and their knowledge and skills vary, but they can be an invaluable resource in the Æthyr. I'm surprised you haven't tried to call one yourself.”

He smiled. “I wonder if they'd agree to link with an Earthbound?”

“I don't see why not. Earthbounds are descended from Kerub demons. Priya always told me that the Hermeneus spirits in its tribe were generally on friendly terms with the local Kerubs.”

Lon acted surprised. “You would get that kind of information?”

“Sometimes. You have to dig for it. Priya would never just offer up information unless it directly related to me.”

“Do you think a Hermeneus could locate my ancestors?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. That would be kinda cool though, huh? You should try to call one and see if you can link up. I'd help you with the ritual if you needed it.”

He thought about this for a moment, eyes gleaming with possibility.

“Anyway, the dream?”

“Oh, sorry.” He shook away his thoughts and continued. “Your mother was saying that magicians normally can't see each other's guardians, but you could see hers.”

“Yep, I can see everyone's guardians. Just like I can see Earthbound halos or imps or anything supernatural in origin.”

“That's what your mother was saying. She was asking Scivina to confirm if she saw anything unusual about you, and the spirit told your mother that you were beginning to show traces of a silver halo. Your mother was very pleased. Then the dream ended and I woke up. That was it.”

Huh. That wasn't as exciting as I hoped. “Why would that memory surface?”

“I don't know. Is your silver halo the reason Riley called you Moonchild?”

The details surrounding my conception and title never came out in all the media coverage of the killings. Though several of the higher-ups in the other magical orders knew about me, they remained quiet about it during the scandal. Some honor still remained among thieves, I guess you could say.

“Magicians have always tried to conceive children during rituals,” I explained. “It's mostly a ceremonial act, just symbolic. The Moonchild ritual is the granddaddy of all fertility rites. Magicians in the past mentioned it in their journals,
like an urban legend. Many people have tried it and failed. Symbolically, it's supposed to draw down lunar power inside me—imbue me with stronger Heka—which I guess it did.”

“But it also gave you the halo. And your preternatural sight.”

I grinned. “The sight thing has been mighty handy.”

“I can't imagine how other humans live without it,” he admitted. “But regarding the ritual, I've never run across any mention of it in my books. Do you know what they did exactly?”

I stared at him. “Umm … they had sex? My mom got pregnant?”

“The spell,” he clarified.

I shrugged. “While some old mage from our order officiated, they had ritual sex inside a silver circle outside in the woods during some special lunar phase.”

Lon looked at me like I was crazy.

“Dude, you're preaching to the choir. I know it sounds nutball. My parents aren't exactly apple pie and
Leave It to Beaver
. To hear them talk about the conception ritual, you'd think it was the greatest achievement in the history of the universe. My mom claimed my conception was a holy experience, and that she wore white the entire time she was pregnant with me to ensure that I was ‘blessed by the moon.' ”

“So everyone in your order thought it was an urban myth until your parents proved them wrong?”

I shrugged. “I guess? I kinda tuned it all out. Who wants to think about their parents having sex? Not me. The only thing I know is that every year I used to get a shitload of expensive birthday presents from all the bigwigs in my order. Not anymore. Now I'm just a bartender who can see halos and kindle Heka.”

Lon was reserved and thoughtful. I hoped I hadn't weirded him out; this wasn't something I shared with people, ever. But I guess I didn't need to worry, because a few seconds later, he stood up and stretched, as if we'd just been discussing the weather. “Now then, why don't you take me down and show me your prisoner.” He scooped up the grimoire and thumped it with a knuckle. “I'm thinking since The Wheel spell works, then the other spells in here might too.”

“Who the hell are you?” Riley Cooper asked again, glaring at Lon as he pulled down the last of the antimagick bedsheets. I slid out a copy of the Memory Erase by Time Period spell from his book.

Brushing off his hands, he continued to ignore her and spoke to me as if she weren't there. “I'm thinking we should wipe out all her memories since the day your parents were spotted in Texas two weeks ago.”

I nodded. “That should cover things. She won't remember what we look like or where she's been.” Most importantly, she wouldn't remember Jupe; he'd be safe.

Riley scooted backward on the couch into the corner farthest from us. “What do you mean, ‘wipe out' my memories? What kind of spell book is that?”

“Then we can try the Memory Twist spell to convince her that you're someone else … so you won't have to keep her chained up.”

“That will be a relief. You'll need blood,” I noted, reading the text for the second time, just to make sure we didn't skip anything. “Sure glad it doesn't require what The Wheel spell did.”

He cocked one eyebrow at me, then removed something small and metallic from his jeans pocket. I realized what it was and laughed. “A pocketknife?”

“You said men my age should carry one. This was my father's. I got it sharpened. Do I need my blood, or will hers do?”

I skimmed the text again, a little happier than I probably should have been in a dank basement with my kidnapped enemy. “Any blood will do. The spell just needs a bit of Heka to set it in motion, and she should have plenty—she's got Magus Zorn's Heka-rich genes.”

He flicked open his knife and eyed Riley. “All right, let's do this.”

“You sure you don't want me to do the spell? It's my problem, you know. I'm willing to be responsible for it.”

He shook his head without looking at me. “Nope. It's my problem too. I won't sleep if I think she might come back after Jupe. Key to the handcuffs?” he requested.

I slipped it off her key ring and handed it to him.

Riley Cooper pulled her hands out of Lon's reach. “Who the hell is Jupe? That mixed boy?”

“That mixed boy is my kid,” Lon clarified as he hovered over her. “Does the Luxe Order condone hurting children, or is that your own personal thing?”

Her eyes were dark and defensive. “He ran from me. If he'd just followed inst—”

“You broke his arm in two places.”

“He kicked me in the stomach!”

“He's thirteen and built like a green bean.” Lon grabbed her by the ankles. In one quick tug, he yanked her down on the couch until she lay flat on her back.

“Fuck you!” she shouted, trying to kick Lon while he
straddled her legs and did his best to hold her still. She was a fighter, I had to give her that. I helped him secure her as he removed the cuffs.

“Sigil, please,” Lon said, gritting his teeth.

I set the paper down. “Just use my blood.” I ran my finger along his pocketknife. The pain was sharp but brief, and a line of blood welled immediately. “Ready?”

“My father is going to kill you,” she threatened. Her eyes were wild and menacing.

“Ready,” Lon confirmed in an angry voice. He switched his grip to put a hand over her forehead, his palm covering her eyes. I held my finger over the sigil and squeezed while he spoke the incantation.

Mouth open, she belted out a scream that lost its luster after a few seconds and morphed into panting. All the hairs on my arms stiffened. Energy surged around her as Lon's words ended. Her body went still beneath me, so I released her.

Lon stood and wiped both sides of his pocketknife several times on his jeans. We watched her, waiting. For a long moment she continued to lie there, but eventually she shook her head and sat up. Her gaze skittered around the room and fell on us. “Where am I?”

“You don't know who I am?” I asked.

She squinted. “You look familiar … did we go to high school together?”

Lon glanced at me and shrugged. “That'll work. Let's go ahead with the second spell and get it over with.”

This time, when she freaked and struggled, she didn't fight us as hard. Lon spoke to her calmly, repeating that she knew me from high school and could trust me. Meanwhile, I charged up the second sigil and recited the spell. When it was done, her eyes fluttered shut. Just when I thought we
might've screwed up or taken it too far, she inhaled deeply and sobered up.

“Jane?” she asked.

“From high school,” I confirmed.
Please let this work …

“God, I remember now,” she said, pushing herself up to sit on the couch. “You went to school in Rancho Bernardo! I haven't seen you in, what? Three years? Where are we?” She rubbed her temples and cracked her neck. “I feel fuzzy.”

Lon nodded at me in confirmation; she wasn't lying. Excellent. Finally, a good use for his stupid empathic ability.

“Don't you remember? We, uh …” I tried to think up something.

“You came to visit Jane for the week,” Lon said quickly. “The two of you had a car accident. You have a minor concussion and the doctor said your memory might take a few days to adjust.”

Her face tightened. “Damn. That must be why my head's killing me.”

“I'll take care of you,” I said. “You're going to stay here with me—”

“Your old buddy, Jane,” Lon repeated.

All right, already. Sheesh. I shot him a cross look. “And take it easy until you feel better. I've got some medicine to help with the headaches.”

Some really strong medicine. Successful memory spell or not, I was going to dose her ass to hell and back, just to make sure.

By all appearances, the Memory Twist spell had worked brilliantly. Even without my narcotic medicinal, Riley seemed pretty damn convinced that we were old friends. She asked a few questions about the fake wreck, then nodded off in front
of the TV on the bed in my guest room upstairs. I had to admit, without her ruthless edge, she wasn't so bad. Pleasant, even.