Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Kate couldn’t help it. After the stress of the day, she burst into laughter. “You’re telling me that’s a contract with the devil?”
“It’s one symbol from a contract,” Nan Temper spat out, dropping the thing on the coffee table.
Prue stared at it, curious. “Which is the only reason I’m not beating you for letting my little Prudence touch it.
If you’d given her a full contract…” She let the words trail off menacingly, and gripped her cane hard enough for her knuckles to crack. Seriously—crack.
Kate looked at the paper, then at Prue. “Are you kidding me?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding, child?”
Nan’s face looked like the grim reaper… if the grim reaper was female, short, and pissed as hell. Kate took a deep breath, sending another quick look at Prue, who shrugged.
“You know I love Prue,” she started. “I would never give her anything that I thought would hurt her, and I swear I didn’t think it was dangerous. How was I supposed to know that one weird symbol thing could hurt somebody?”
Nan’s narrowed eyes didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Besides, I know this company isn’t the nicest, and they have some really sinister business practices, but Satanism? I just don’t see it.”
Insanity. Possession. Kate remembered Al saying something like that. But it just seemed like bullshit, just a big, hyperbolic metaphor or something.
Wasn’t it?
“Do you believe in the Downbelow?” Nan got into Kate’s face, her bony finger poking Kate’s chest. “When was the last time you thought your soul was truly in danger?”
“First time I had sex,” Kate said honestly, without thinking, then blushed when Prue let out a surprised snort of laughter. Even Nan seemed to soften a little, backing up a step. “Hey, you can take the girl out of the Irish Catholic church, but you can’t take the church outta the girl.”
“This is serious. You don’t know how serious,” Nan said, sinking down into a chair. “Tell me a little about this company you’re working for. How did you come to find this paper?”
Slowly, Kate explained about Fiendish, and the Basement Boys. Prue looked even more worried.
“I need to look into this,” Nan muttered. Then her gaze bore into Kate. “You need to quit. Now.”
“I can’t. I need this job.”
“Even if you don’t value your soul, you should value your life,” Nan pointed out, nudging the paper with her cane. “You already know too much. As soon as you cease being useful, you’re going to be signed on, or in the ground.”
“Nan,” Prue interjected, handing her a cup of tea, “Why would he have a bunch of contracts? Is he signing people up?”
“Probably,” Nan said. “It’s a way to gain power.
I never really worked with their kind, but I’ve seen the aftereffects of their plots.
They offer favors in exchange for a draw of the power of their souls, and outright ownership on the signatory’s death.
Then, those who sign have the option of signing on their own people, and the master draws power from both his signatory, and any that signatory adds on. ”
“So what you’re saying,” Kate said slowly, “is that Hell… is like Lularoe.”
Prue smirked. “I have always suspected.”
Nan stared at them, then looked at the ceiling as if praying for patience. They started to snicker.
That stopped immediately when she slammed the cane down on the coffee table.
“You two want to laugh, that’s fine.” Her Louisiana accent became more pronounced—like sweet tea laced in arsenic, smooth yet deadly.
“You want to think I’m some dotty old woman, you do what y’all want.
But Prue, I’m not answering to your mama if you end up dead.
Your friend is bein’ the fool, that’s her choice. But you, Prue? You know better.”
Prue immediately went contrite. “I’m sorry, Granmere.”
Nan grabbed a small incense-burner from one of the store shelves and lit the paper holding the symbol over it. It didn’t burn immediately, until Nan muttered something. Then it almost exploded, disappearing in a cloud of oily black smoke. “Who else saw that abomination? Handled it?”
“Nobody,” Kate replied, then frowned. “Wait. Tadpole saw it.”
“Does he interact with a lot of people? Do you care about him much?”
Kate thought about his behavior on their supposed “date” and grimaced. “He mostly stays in his basement, and right now, I don’t care at all.”
“Good. ‘Cause he’s probably in a bad way by now.”
Kate winced. “Wait, what?”
“He’s been exposed to the symbol. Once you’ve seen it, depending on your personality and your soul strength, you open the doorway to all sorts of nastiness. You go insane if you’re lucky.”
Nan’s eyes suddenly went wide. She stood in front of Kate, who leaned back against the sofa cushions.
“Now that I think about it, you seem awfully chipper for someone who’s been around the full contracts,” Nan said. “Only two ways someone could be around those contracts and not be affected. That’s somebody possessed—or somebody who’s already signed her soul.”
“Oh, come on,” Kate moaned. “Are you kidding?”
Nan closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Then she opened them, quick, and gave Kate the sort of glare that was almost a physical poke.
Kate huffed. “Did I forget to put on deodorant? Because you are the second person to pull a super-glare on me today, and frankly, it’s getting a little old.”
Nan blinked. “Well, if you’re possessed, you’ve got the best shield I ever saw,” she muttered. “That just leaves signed.”
“I swear, I did not sign my soul,” Kate growled.
“She didn’t, Nan Temper,” Prue vouched. “I’d know.”
“Oh, really?” Nan turned back to her granddaughter, looked like she was going to say something acidic… then her expression softened. “Oh. I s’pose you would. It’s long past when you and I had a little chat, there, Prudence.”
Prue nodded, looking more like her father for a second. Prue’s dad was one of the most chill individuals Kate had ever met, as well as one of the most fantastic chefs. Kate adored the man.
Still, Kate shot her friend a surprised look. “You’re not bullshitting?” she asked. “Seriously. You can tell if I’ve signed my soul or not?”
“I’m pretty sure.” But Prue was hedging. She was probably one hundred percent positive.
“Wow. Because I was afraid this conversation couldn’t get any more surreal.” She chuckled, unable to move past the disbelief. “Know any other cool party tricks?”
Prue shrugged. “You’ve seen my cherry stem knot.”
Nan stood up, headed for the door. “I’ve got to go, contact some people,” she said slowly. “Prue, don’t do anything stupid. You, girl,” she pointed her cane at Kate. “Don’t do anything else stupid.”
“Wait, Nan Temper,” Prue interrupted. “What about Tadpole?”
“What about him?” Nan grumped. “He ain’t one of mine.”
“We really need to make sure he’s okay.” Prue looked at Kate. “You don’t want him hurt, do you?”
“No,” Kate admitted. “He might be a butthead, but this is my fault, anyway.”
Nan huffed out an impatient breath. “Well then, fine. I’ll drive.”
Prue immediately started shaking her head, looking panicked. “No, Grandmere! We could… um, Kate, did you bring a car?”
“Nope, took the BART,” Kate said. “But I can bring one tomorrow. Can’t it wait till then?”
“Sure, why not?” Nan Temper said.
Kate felt a little wave of relief.
“After all, if we’re lucky,” Nan said, with a careless shrug, “he’ll just be dead.”