Hot Magic Page 17

  “Bas comes and goes as he pleases. Sometimes years elapse between visits.” His grip had loosened, but he still held her securely. His gaze seemed riveted on her mouth.

  “Will you be able to find him before you need to get in the circle?” She found it difficult to focus with him watching her. She licked her dry lips.

  “Yes,” he answered absently, as if his mind were already flitting toward Bas. Not a shred of doubt marked his face.

  “Will Abigor release Tasha and Luc today?”

  “Probably. He’s played his game. He’ll let them go before there are lasting repercussions.” Harry’s gaze shifted to her eyes. “I have to leave.” He didn’t move.

  “I know.”

  “If Tasha and Luc aren’t returned before I need to get in the circle, Bas will deal with Abigor.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “Yes.” Still he didn’t leave.

  “Well, bye. See you soon.” She didn’t move, either.

  “Did you mean what you said?” The question pushed out from him, like he hadn’t wanted to ask, but couldn’t hold back the words.

  She crinkled her brow, not sure what he meant.

  “About me being in your head. About not wanting me to leave.”

  She lowered her eyes to his chest level, embarrassed that she’d let him know how much she cared. He’d already told her that they didn’t have a future because he was the Balance, not to mention she was a Dancer. If she were of a romantic nature, she’d envision them like Tony and Maria from West Side Story, kept cruelly apart by a bigoted society. Except, of course, Harry was a leader in that bigoted society, so the comparison didn’t fit. And they were a lot older than Tony and Maria. In fact, she could be their mother, which was a sobering thought. And she didn’t want to think about the tragic end of the movie, even though she didn’t believe in happily ever after.

  “Where do you go when your eyes glaze over and you seem to sink inside yourself? I want to know what’s going on in your head.” Harry pulled her closer, bringing her back to reality.

  “No you don’t. I was thinking about West Side Story.”

  His lips touched her neck. “I’m talking about our relationship and you’re thinking about West Side Story.”

  Her pulse skipped. “Great movie. I have it on DVD—”

  His lips silenced her, making her forget all about Tony and Maria and causing beautiful music—of course by Leonard Bernstein—to fill her.

  He lifted his head. “Did you mean it?”

  “Yes.” She could barely speak.

  His muscles relaxed and he just held her, enveloping her in his arms. A bird tweeted six times in the kitchen.

  “That’s Mom’s bird clock.” Julie didn’t want to be reminded of reality, or of how fast time was zipping by. “You only have an hour and a half until sunset.”

  Harry took a step back, his arms dropping slowly. “I’ll find Bas,” he said. Then he smiled slowly. “I liked the music.”

  He popped out of the room, quicker than a heart beat.

  At least it hadn’t been fireworks. Mom would have been upset with scorch marks on the ceiling. Julie sighed and looked around. Even with all the warm, familiar clutter, the room felt empty with Harry gone. She picked up a green and yellow knit afghan from the back of the bright red couch and wrapped herself in it. What if something happened, and Harry couldn’t find Bas? What if he didn’t make it to the circle in time? What if the demon came and whisked her away?

  She headed for the purse she’d left on the small lacquered table just inside the door. She pulled her phone from the outside pocket and searched inside the purse for the note Joe had handed her. Surprisingly, given the internal state of her purse, she found it.

  Sitting back on the couch, she covered as much of her body as possible with the afghan and dialed Joe’s number.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Yes?” Joe answered, his voice distracted. The noise in the background made it very hard to hear him.

  “Joe? Where on earth are you?”

  There was a pause on the line, then “Julie?” The background noise—it almost sounded like a lot of people moaning—dimmed as if he’d walked into another room.

  “Are you at the scene of an accident, or did I interrupt something I shouldn’t be asking about?”

  “No, that’s just the, uh, wind. I stepped in from outside. We should be able to talk now.”

  Writers have described the wind as “moaning” since the first rock scratches on stone. Not until today had Julie understood why. “Sorry to bother you, Joe, but I don’t have Phoebe’s phone number with me and I want to let you both know that I may not be able to make it into work for a while.”

  “Does this have to do with your daughter?” Joe’s voice sharpened.

  “I’ve found out where Tash is. I think she’ll be okay, but I may have to leave the country,” not to mention the known world, “and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t go anywhere with anyone but me!”

  “Why not?” That was a weird thing to say. Was he going all alpha male possessive on her after one kiss? When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I’ll be okay. It’s not a sure thing that I have to go, but if I do, would you please explain to everyone at work that I need to take some time off?”

  “Julie, I think I can smooth things out.”

  What was he talking about? “What are you talking about? And answer my question this time.”

  Silence on the line. She could almost feel the air shimmer with his emotion. “I know who took Tasha. I’m trying to help free her.”

  Whoa. “Joe, have you been drinking?” She’d never once seen him with alcohol, even at the winter holiday party at work (formerly known as the Christmas/Hanukah party, until Kwanzaa came along and the combined name became much too unwieldy. Some enterprising soul had tried to get everyone to call it the Kwistmaskah party, but that had just offended everybody). In fact, the only drink she every saw him with was his ever-present cup of latte.

  Latte. Oh. My. God.

  “Joe.” A horrified whisper dribbled from her mouth. “You’re a demon.”

  She hoped he’d laugh and accuse her of drinking. Instead, he said nothing, though she could still hear the faint howls of the wind, so she knew he was on the line.

  Moans and howls. Oh. My. God.

  “That isn’t the wind, is it? Joe, you’re in Hell!” Goosebumps formed on the back of her neck and she almost dropped the phone. Then she remembered. This was a good thing. Tasha was in Hell, too. “That’s not Tash making that noise, is it?”

  “No. Tasha is in a holding area. She’s fine.”

  She closed her eyes, thankful for that brief bit of news. A totally tangential question occurred to her. “They have cell phone towers in Hell?”

  “We don’t need towers to make the phones work. And we call our home Gehenna.” Did his voice sound more menacing now that she knew he was a demon, or was that her imagination?

  A shiver worked its way down her back. Joe was a demon. She’d kissed a demon. That couldn’t be good. She cleared her throat. “I have several questions I’d like to ask you.”

  Her voice sounded calm and in control, which worried her. Any normal person would be either catatonic or screaming like a banshee. She felt icy, and angry. “But first I’d like to warn you, if you don’t get your butt over to that holding area and get my daughter out of that place, you are dead meat.”

  “I’m immortal, Julie. You can’t kill me.”

  “Okay. I’ll do something even worse.” Like what? Think, Julie, think. “If you don’t bring Tasha to me, I’ll make you regret every day of eternity. I’ll make you suffer in ways you’ve never imagined.”

  “I’m in Gehenna, Julie.” He said the words almost gently. “How are you going to top that?”

  Okay, gloves off. What’s the worse that could happen to an evil demon? “I’ll petition God to have you sent to Heaven.”

  “Like that will
ever happen.” He didn’t sound worried.

  “I’ll tell everyone at work who you really are.”

  “Will that be before or after I tell them who you really are?” Now he sounded amused.

  “How about bamboo under the fingernails or rolling you down a hill in a nail-studded barrel?” She knew the threats were weak, even as she said them.

  “Baby leagues, Julie. You’ve been watching old movies haven’t you? Modern human torture techniques are much more sophisticated.”

  “Okay, look. So I’m lousy at torture. Joe, please. For the sake of our friendship. Get Tasha out of there. And that Luc person, too,” she tacked on, not wanting to leave anyone in Hell who didn’t belong there.

  “It’s not that simple, Jules. There will be a cost to you if I do.”

  Julie went on high alert. Harry’s warning about deals with demons made her wary. “Abigor doesn’t have a choice. The angels will attack if he doesn’t let Tash and Luc go. He’s not allowed to take Triad members.”

  “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.

  “Dorie, 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 indentati
ons 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.

  “Here 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.