Chapter 26 #2
“Per the Accords, the Guardianship can not be transferred by coercion, trickery, or false pretense. Should you have attempted such a spell this evening on Brendan’s orders, it would’ve backfired or burned itself out, and once the Wielders realized that, they would’ve devised some other form of magical blackmail or torture that likely would’ve resulted in your deaths. ”
“So how were we supposed to transfer it to you, then?”
“I was tasked with convincing you to give it up willingly.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“We didn’t progress far enough in our lessons.”
Elizabeth lets out a pained laugh. “Good thing I was such a slacker, huh? If I’d been on my A-game, the deal would be done, and Matthias would’ve used that power to blow up the portal and unleash Hell on Earth.”
I bow my head in acknowledgment and contrition both. “I’m telling you this because I no longer trust in his authority. Clearly, he misled us.”
“Well, thank you, Merrick. That’s really magnanimous—”
“It’s fine, everything’s fine,” Kate says, emerging from the kitchen with Oliver, who’s carrying a tray laden with teacups and saucers. The whole arrangement feels far too formal for the occasion, but I’m not one to turn down a good cuppa.
As Oliver distributes the tea, and Kate wanders to the windows to peer out into the blackness beyond, Rachel says, “What about Nathan Killroy? I don’t understand how he could’ve… I mean, I vetted him. Several times. Everything seemed aboveboard.”
I try to catch Elizabeth’s eye, but she refuses to look my way. Not that I blame her.
“Killroy was a legitimate attorney,” I reply, “although not likely your mother’s.
At some point in his recent history, he was possessed by the chaos demon Ozikai, whom you had the distinct pleasure of meeting tonight.
That demon orchestrated the sham of your mother’s will and testament in an attempt to get closer to you and ultimately gain control of the portal. ”
“Possessed,” Kate says in a dreamy whisper. “How awful.”
“Yes, well. Before you go feeling sorry for the man, a demonic possession can not happen without informed consent.”
“Wait…” Rachel narrows her shrewd gaze, and I know what’s coming next. “Are you—”
“No,” I reply. “We three were humans, long ago. Now, we’re demons. And that’s all that needs to be said on the matter.”
I can tell she wants to push, but Elizabeth doesn’t give her a chance.
“Why would Ozikai need the rest of the hunters?” she asks. “Why all the blood contracts?”
“From what Ollie and I were able to glean before they shot us up with neurotoxins,” Warren says, “the Wielders of Flaming Bullshit were planning to kill the three of you immediately after the transference ritual as a sacrifice to the chaos demons, whom they hoped would be summoned en masse by the act.”
“They tried that with Calista,” Elizabeth says. “But that didn’t work out so hot for their great-great-granddads.”
Warren sips his tea. “They assumed they’d worked out the kinks.”
“How?”
Oliver sets down the tea tray and joins me on the sofa. “Fuckers were betting that the power of a triple sacrifice, combined with their newly acquired ability to open the portal to any damn demon who wanted to come through, would be enough to call forth an army from Hell.”
“The demon-pocalyse,” Elizabeth says.
Oliver nods. “However, not all demons can take immediate form in the earthly realm. If they want to physically manifest—enough to have any sort of power of their own—they need human vessels to serve as incubators. Willing human vessels. In exchange, the humans forfeit their lives, and commit their souls to an eternity in Hell.”
Elizabeth gasps. “So every lawyer that signed those contracts—the so-called Wielders—agreed to be possessed by spider demons? And spend eternity in Hell? That’s some fucked-up self-flagellation level of crazy.”
“The so-called spider demon was the form Ozikai’s chaos energy chose to incorporate,” I explain.
“Every demon is different. That’s part of what makes them so unpredictable and dangerous.
Ozikai was not even operating at his full strength tonight.
Likely, he’ll need another vessel to complete his full manifestation.
Similarly, if the summons had been successful, the other chaos demons would need vessels as well, in order to attain full strength. ”
“I’m guessing we took out a lot of their potential vessels,” Elizabeth says.
“Fuck yeah.” Oliver raises his cup toward her. “Nothing I love more than the sound of rotten bastards exploding in a fiery inferno. The way their eyes burst is just… mmm. Chef’s kiss.”
Kate, still staring out the window, begins to giggle maniacally. Oliver lowers his cup, the humor gone from his eyes. He goes to her, rubbing her back and murmuring something in her ear that makes her settle.
I really, really hope it’s just an effect of the shock.
Rachel’s on her feet again, the conversation agitating her anew. She paces the living room, very nearly wearing a groove in the rug. “Magic is real,” she says. “And the three of us are witches. Do I have that straight?”
She’s looking at me when she says it, so I nod.
“You guys are demons,” she continues, “but not the nasty ones, because apparently not all demons are bad, but not all of them are good, and there’s a lot of gray area in between. We had a grimoire that was passed down for generations, but Lizzy’s boyfriend—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Elizabeth says.
“—stole it, and now it’s nothing but ashes. And that same boyfriend—”
“Ex-boyfriend!”
“—is now the leader of a cult of psycho lawyers calling themselves the Wielders of the Righteous Flame, and they all want us dead, and we just burned down the mansion of one of their members who sacrificed himself to become a meat suit for spider demon nightmare fuel, and he’s just one of about a gazillion more exactly like him, but different, and they’re banging down the door to earth, ready to turn us into their personal buffet.
And the only thing standing between those hellbeasts and the complete extinction of the human race is a portal that’s falling apart and… me and my sisters.”
“Nailed it!” Elizabeth sing-songs, her smile undimmed. “See what happens when you listen, Rachel? You got almost everything right!”
“I’m thrilled for myself,” she deadpans. Then, “Remind me… what the fuck are we supposed to do now? Other than roll out the red carpet for our new demon overlords and pray for a quick death?”
“We are not going to let that happen.” Warren places a hand on Rachel’s shoulder, but she snarls at him like she might just bite it off. Wisely, he snatches it back, though I fear her feisty response will only encourage him. He’s already got that gleam in his eye.
“It’s natural to feel defenseless now,” I say, “especially after your ordeal tonight. But once you’ve harnessed your magic, it will feel different.”
“He’s right, Rach.” Elizabeth offers a kind smile. “I bet you’re an amazing witch. You’ll see.”
In a shocking turn of events, the eldest witch actually returns her sister’s smile.
Splendid! If we can accomplish peace among the sisters Bonnivarde, perhaps there’s hope for staving off the apocalypse yet.
Rachel takes a breath. Reclaims her chair. Sips her tea. Then, with a calmness I wasn’t sure she was capable of, “So… what happens next, really? I know a lot of those guys died tonight, but they’re still out there, right?”
“Next,” says Elizabeth, glaring at me, “someone in this room owes someone else a big, fat apology. But we’re not naming names, Dr. Merrick Sutherland.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I say. “Obviously I’m—”
“Our immediate concerns,” says Warren, even as Elizabeth continues to glare, “are threefold. Firstly, you’re correct in that while the Wielders suffered a major loss, a good deal escaped, and we have no idea how vast their overall network stretches.
That puts the three of you in extreme danger, long before talk of demon incursions. ”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Rachel replies.