Chapter 36
thirty-six
. . .
Present Day
A few days after our failure at the Black Market, I invite Matthias back to my place after work. We still have not been able to procure the amber blood, and we still don’t fully understand the spell.
When we arrive, I go see Hazel, who is stationed in my bedroom.
She runs to me as soon as I poke through the bedroom door and rubs her body against my legs.
I scoop her up and give her a kiss on the head.
I look into her eyes, half-hoping Kit has found his way back in there.
Like I always do. But no, it’s only Hazel in there.
I kiss her on the head again, happy to have her here.
I set her back down, make sure she has food and water, then find Matthias. He sits on the ground on his laptop while I sit on the couch with mine. I flex my hand after I type in my password, knuckles lightly bruised from connecting with Balores’s face.
“Thanks for helping me with this,” I say for probably the thousandth time.
“No prob.”
“Most helpful coworker award goes to…”
He squints up at me. “Lace, I’m not helping you because we’re coworkers. I’m helping you because we’re friends.”
I smile sheepishly. “Right. I…I’m not good at friends. I have a tendency to fuck up my friendships.” I push people away and then blame them for leaving me. I’m coming to terms with this, and I’m trying to stop. Easier said than done, though.
His mouth forms a fine line. “I know, but it’s too late to fuck this up. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”
I smile to myself. “I like it.”
We go back to our research.
Matthias grumbles to himself before saying, “Bad news.”
“Oh, goodie.”
“I think this spell needs to be done close to where he died. ‘The departed will awaken where there is the largest trace of their soul.’ Where did he die? California, you said?”
I groan. “You think we have to go to California?”
“That’s a strong possibility. That’s where his body is buried, right?”
I start to say yes, but then I remember something I read in his obit. “No. There is no body. He was cremated.”
“Cremated? Well, Lace, if there’s no body to send his soul back to…”
“From what I read, it sounds like this spell is creating a new body around whatever is left of his soul, not transferring the soul back to his old body. It’s been ten years since he died, so even if there was a body for his soul to return to, it wouldn’t be a good body. This isn’t a necromancy situation.”
“Would his soul have been burned up with his body?”
“No. I literally watched a reaper pull Kit’s soul from his body in his memories. The reason we’re doing this is because he still has a soul to be restored. What he is now is his soul. It’s morphed and twisted and tarnished, but it’s his soul.”
“So, wouldn’t his new body form around what he is now?”
My teeth scrape my lip. “I don’t think so. ‘Largest trace’ makes me think it means whatever is left over from his completely human soul. And then he’ll be called to this new body, in a way.”
“So, that takes us back to California. Or Hell?”
I shake my head. “Possibly to California, but I don’t think Hell. I don’t know. He still has so much of his humanity intact.” My fingers drum on my keyboard. “Maybe the largest trace could be his demon-soul.”
“Or left behind by his demon-soul. There could be enough of a trace of him here in your apartment.”
“Possibly?”
He shakes his head. “We’re only making ourselves more confused with all this guesswork. We need reinforcements. I’m calling my cousin Cassia. She’s been practicing longer than me.”
Matthias dials and puts her on speaker.
“Hello?” she answers in a sing-songy voice.
“How much do you know about souls?” Matthias asks as a greeting.
“Broad topic, man.”
“Okay, souls after someone dies. Let’s say, someone died and went to Hell. They came back as a demon. What happened to their soul?”
Cassia snorts. “That’s one hell of a hypothetical. Well, if they’re a demon, that is their soul. But the thing about souls is that they’re not solid. They’re pliable. Or, you know, like mud, leaving a smear wherever it goes and on whatever it touches.”
“So, if a soul was removed from a body, there would still be traces of it there? In the body where they lived when they were alive?”
“Sure. If they’re a demon now, the last trace of the human soul would likely be in the body it lived in.”
I cut in, “Would there be traces of it in the ashes of someone who was cremated? Oh, also, hi. I’m Lacy.”
“Uh, hi? Yeah, there would be. You can’t burn up a soul, or fully destroy it. Souls are too strong for that. They can be damaged or changed, but not destroyed.”
Matthias looks at me. “What about on someone a demon possessed? Would there be a significant trace on them?”
“Potentially, as long as the human part of their soul is still strong.”
“It is,” I say quickly.
Cassia clicks her tongue. “What are you guys up to?”
Matthias cringes. “I’ll tell you some other time. Thank you.” He hangs up. “So, the largest trace of his soul could be in you. Meaning, this new body will form around you.”
“Me? No. If he forms around me, that would kill us both. That can’t be right.”
“Well, not if we create a place for him to home in on. I think we’ll need your blood anyway—the article mentioned having something that connects the demon to the human world.
Considering he has no physical possessions, you’re the greatest connection.
We bleed you a little, and his soul may be called to that. ”
“Ew,” I emphasize. “I prefer the theory of this new body forming around his demon-soul.”
“That’s also a strong possibility. It has to be one or the other. Either way, as soon as we find the amber blood, we can start trying.”
After Matthias leaves, I go out to check my mail in the large metal box at the bottom of the steps.
I open my little box and sigh. The mailman has shoved a huge package inside the tiny box again.
I dig my hands inside the box and yank at the package.
It’s stuck in there real good. I yank so hard, that when it releases, I stumble back and almost fall on my ass, recovering at the last second.
It’s a padded yellow envelope with my name written on it in thick, black permanent marker. No address. No return address. Gee, who do I know who definitely knows how to break into a locked mailbox?
“Kit,” I murmur. I look around in case I see him watching, but I’m alone. I clutch the package tightly and go back to my apartment, carefully locking the door behind me.
I sit on my couch, holding the package in front of myself like it’s a bomb that could go off at any second.
Hazel comes out from under the couch and hops up beside me, stretching to sniff the package in my hands before deciding it’s of no interest to her and hopping down to go back under the couch.
I rip open the package before I can stop myself, and a mason jar falls out.
I catch it before it can hit the floor, then hold it up to my face.
The liquid is red and thick. The light from my lamp is causing flecks in it to glimmer.
I drop the jar when I realize what it is and let out a little yelp.
“He sent me a jar of blood?!” I shriek. I pick it back up, examining the jar again.
Blood with sparkles inside. Wait, wait, wait.
Taped to the jar is a note scribbled in his handwriting, quick and neat, that I recognize from the memory of his last day.
Amber Blood is demon blood with flecks of amber in it. Hot commodity in Hell right now. Use it wisely, sweetness.
“He’s helping?” I ask aloud. I look up, directing my question to August, even though I know she won’t answer. “That’s good, right? If he’s helping, that means he wants this?”
I can tell the amber blood is mystical based on how it looks. Blood separates when it sits out, but this looks fresh out of the vein. I flip the paper over to see writing on the other side.
P.S. You have a killer right hook.
He saw that? Under the note, he drew a quick little stick figure sketch of me (I’m assuming, based on the stick figure’s curly hair) punching a stick figure with devil horns.
He wrote the word POW and added little squiggles to emphasize the impact.
There’s a third stick figure off to the side wearing a witch’s hat—Matthias. He’s ridiculous.
If Kit wants this, I don’t understand why he didn’t deliver this to me himself.
I suppose because I told him to stay away.
I huff. That’s for the best. If this doesn’t work, I don’t think I’ll be able to look him in the eye.
If we stay away from one another, maybe we can both keep our hopes at a maintainable level.
I pick up the packaging to throw it away, and out flutters a piece of paper. There’s another note.
You make me feel guilty for killing bugs.
My brow furrows as my heart twitches unnecessarily. Is this his way of saying, You make me want to be a better person?
I’m not sure I want to know how Kit got this blood.
I don’t know if demon blood counts if it comes from a human who is being possessed, or if it has to come from a mid-level demon or higher-level demon with their own form…
and I’m not sure I want to know. All I need to know is that this is the final ingredient in this spell and he’s trying to help me bring him back. He wants this as much as I do.
When I see Matthias at work the next day, I pull him aside as soon as he cuts loose the customer he’s helping find a very specific book that has a red cover and was probably written by a man.
Naturally, the book was green and written by a woman.
In the back corner of the store with the giant art books that people only buy for accessories for their coffee tables, I pull out the mason jar from my bag.
“Is this what I think it is?” he asks, taking the mason jar from my hands and holding it so it glimmers in the light.
I say quietly, “Yeah. Kit sent it. I found it in my mailbox.”
Matthias nods in approval, handing the jar back to me to conceal in my bag. “Does this mean he’s still watching you?”
“Unsurprisingly, yes. I don’t know how actively, though. I have no way to contact him and…” An anxious thought occurs to me. “We don’t need him present for the spell, do we?”
“I don’t think so.”
Good. I wring my hands together, lowering my voice even more. “When can we do this?”
Matthias matches my volume. “I’m down for tonight, if you are.”
I agree. “Let’s bring him back.”