Fire Within - Page 44/48

When she was dressed, she nibbled on the reheated dinner, sipped a cup of microwaved coffee, and gave Ryan a ring. Time to catch up on his side of things.

“Did you have a nice rest?” he asked by way of greeting.

Puzzled by the amusement in his voice, she said, “Uh, fine, thank you.”

He snorted, barely containing his laughter this time. “I’ll just bet you did. Andreas left me a phone message saying you’d fallen asleep and he was quote ‘putting you to bed.’ He suggested not calling until you called me. A little possessive, I thought, but it must be nice to have somebody come tuck you in.”

“Very funny. Can we stick to business?” She’d be discussing this with Andreas. You don’t share embarrassing moments with a cop. Ever. They never let you forget it.

“If you insist. Actually, I let the computers run the searches last night and managed to get a few hours sleep myself. But I don’t think I had half as much fun as you did.”

“Enough, Ryan. Your imagination is leading you astray. What about our suspects?”

“I think we really are down to the last three, the three in Shale’s office: Stanley, Binderman, and Shale himself. Unverified alibis and holes in those three backgrounds. Sarah Young is clean. The shrink we use as a profiler agrees on Stanley and Shale. She thinks Binderman is too transparent.”

Profiler? What would a human shrink know about demons? But anything that made Ryan happy was fine with her. Ari let it go unchallenged. “Fitzhugh and Batty are definitely cleared?”

“Yep. Fitzhugh was squeaky clean. Richard Batty is an oddball and probably a pervert. Two convictions for intox, dismissed from the last job for indecent exposure, but charges were never filed. His alibis and background are genuine.”

“That’s good work. You still think Stanley’s the most likely of our remaining suspects?”

“No searchable history. Anywhere. If she’s not the demon, she’s hiding something else behind an alias. We’re concentrating efforts on her at the moment, looking for a criminal past that might explain the discrepancies.” He paused, and she heard him slurping coffee. “That doesn’t mean we’re ignoring the other two. Haven’t located Binderman’s last employer in Chicago, but we’re looking. As for Shale, his counseling agency in L.A. closed about eighteen months ago. We still don’t know why, and we’re trying to account for the missing time before he showed up in Riverdale.”

“I’m impressed. You’re close to nailing this down. I’m working hard to find a magical solution by the time we need it. I know where to start now. Great-Gran’s been helping me.”

“Huh?”

“No, no ghosts. Old notes. Never mind.” Ari chuckled at his confusion. “Just trust that I’ll get it done.” The real question was whether she’d figure it out in time.

As they talked about the suspects, Ari finally acknowledged her growing sense of unease, the weight on her shoulders. The dark cloud of dread had been there when she woke and continued to trickle through her system like the buzz of too much caffeine. A sudden cold spot on her neck made her rub it with one hand.

“We have to work faster,” Ari said. “I can sense the creature is growing impatient, and it knows we’re looking for it. It’s next strike will be a big one, and I think it’s coming soon. Maybe, within hours. Dark magic is stronger at night, so dusk could be our deadline.”

“Let’s hope you’re wrong for once,” Ryan said. “We need all the time we can get.”

* * *

In spite of the ticking clock, she had a couple more calls to make before getting back to work. The first went to Martin, the other Guardian in the district, who was covering for her on anything that couldn’t wait. Fortunately, he reported everything else had been quiet, and nothing required her immediate attention.

Her next call went to Claris. Ari hadn’t talked with her since Sunday, even though her friend had left two messages. If Ari didn't call soon, Claris would be pounding on the door. Besides, Ari would need additional magical ingredients as soon as she figured out a formula. She wanted to make sure Claris would be expecting her.

“Oh, dang,” Claris said when she picked up. “Finally you call, and I’ve got a store full of customers. I can’t chat long.”

“No big deal. I’m swamped myself but wanted to let you know I may be over to get some stuff. But you called me.”

“Oh yes. She’s back. The cat, Hernando’s lady friend? You’d asked about her, so I thought you’d want to know. Appeared yesterday morning. Skinny, so I fed her.”

“Sucker. You’ll never get rid of her now.”

“I know, but she’s so cute with those big ears. I wonder…oops, got to go. Call you later.”

Ari grinned at the empty phone. What a totally different life Claris lived, where cats and customers were the important things in her daily world and not demons, werewolves and vampires. Sometimes Ari envied her—but not for long.

Ari fired up the laptop and dug through the trunk again, setting aside keepsakes that she’d examine another day. That included a string-tied packet belonging to her father. His writings wouldn’t contain info on the magicks, as he hadn’t been a practicing warlock. In witch families, not everyone inherited the ability to use magic, but they carried the genes. The ability could skip several generations before another true witch or warlock emerged.

She grabbed a stack of letters in her mother’s handwriting. What she needed was witch wisdom. She found what she was looking for in the second letter she read, a letter from her mother to Great-Gran. It described the defeat of a halfling demon who had turned evil. Instead of a banishing spell, her mother had used a banishing potion. That was unusual in itself, but it was the explanation of how it worked that caught her eye. The potion had cast out the demon side, leaving an empty earthly shell. When her mother destroyed the shell, the halfling died.

What had Moriana said? An image changer was just another demon. The differences between a halfling and Riverdale’s demon were only a matter of degree. Could it really be that simple? Bind the demon to his form, douse him with the potion, and then destroy his body? Wouldn’t he be left in limbo, forcing him into the same choice as a vanquishing spell?

Ari’s face broke into a broad grin. She couldn’t perform dark magic, but she knew how to cook potions. For the first time in days, she knew the solution was within her grasp. Binding spell, banishing potion. What could be simpler?

She tackled the spell first. She’d used versions of it for years, had successfully adapted it to werewolves. Making it work for a demon should be possible with a little work. In any spell, it was the language that mattered, and luckily, the Goddess wasn’t particular about the artistry. In this instance, the chant needed to bind both body and spirit. It took more than an hour before she was sure she had it right.

Take the outer form, hold it firm and still; Bend the demon spirit to your stronger will;

Wrap with chains of strength and might; Bind him, Goddess, with your light.

As sand to sea, so mote it be.

The potion was a bigger challenge, but Ari knew the foundation. The tektite stone. It was used in all banishing magic and would be the main ingredient. The other parts of the recipe would take more research and a little experimentation.

Ari rolled her head to loosen the tension in her neck. Her witch senses were growing more insistent, raising the hairs at the nape of her neck. She checked the clock. 2:40 p.m. It would be dark by 8:00 or 8:30. Less than six hours before the demon’s powers would peak. She didn’t think it would wait any longer.

Ari reached for the phone, when it rang in her hand.

“You’re never going to believe this,” Ryan said.

“The demon’s kidnapped the mayor and taken over City Hall?” she quipped.

“Huh? He’s done what?”

“Sorry. Having a mental moment. What’s happened now?”

“Got a hit on Freida Stanley. Or should I say Louise Margaret Combes, who has outstanding warrants from Idaho for two counts of solicitation and running a house of prostitution. Having met her, I’m surprised she could make a living in the sex arena,” he said. “Maybe her clients turned her in for fraud.”

Ari snorted in response. Everyone was tired. “Petty humor aside, what you’re saying is she’s got a past we can verify.”

“Yep, there’s a real Louise Combes and the photo matches. So, unless the demon has cloned her identity, she’s not our suspect. This thing can’t do that, can it? Clone a real person?”

“Nope. At least not a living person. But damn, Ryan, I should have thought of deceased identities. Did you check death records? I don’t think there’d be anything to stop the demon from using the image of a dead person.”

“No, no, Ari,” Ryan said on an exasperated burst of breath. “I thought we were down to two, but now I’ll have to check all six again, make sure everybody’s still among the living. A death certificate should’ve popped up in our initial inquiries, but you never know. Records don’t always get updated like they should. This search is never-ending.”

“Tell me about it,” Ari agreed, eyeing the piles of loose notes and books stacked around her apartment.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after two consults with the OFR lab, Ari began mixing the potion. A half cup of water, six drops of lavender oil and the tektite stone went in the cauldron first. They would brew for an hour. In the meantime she headed to Claris’s to pick up ingredients she rarely used, in particular, wormwood and belladonna. In small doses each was useful in warding off evil or negating evil. The wrong doses could have the opposite effect, and Ari usually avoided both. In this case, they were required elements of the binding spell.

On the way to Claris’s, she rang Andreas and suggested he meet her. She told herself it would be easier to bring him up to date in person. In reality, she was bored with her own company. Since he and Claris had never formally met, what better time than the middle of a crisis?