Bone Magic

Backtrack and avoid the steely teeth at the end of the road. “No, no . . . just put him away for now. We’ll figure out what to do about him later.” I wondered if we could cast a mute spell on him. Washing his mouth out with soap wouldn’t help. He didn’t have a tongue or taste buds.

As Morio stashed the box in his bag, I stared up at the sky. The wind was rustling through the leaves, sending a handful whirling to the ground. They were changing color fast this year. Autumn was coming in with a heavy heart. I sucked in another deep breath and felt the rush of graveyard dust fill my soul. Oh yes, the Harvestmen were on the move.

Morio motioned for me to take my place at the altar. His dark eyes sparkled with flecks of topaz, even as my own violet eyes were flecked with silver. We’d been running magic thick and fast for days now, accelerating our practice, trying to hone our spells before we came face-to-face with the new demon general that Shadow Wing had loosed upon Seattle. Once we found the lamia, we’d have our work cut out for us. She was lying low, hiding out, and none of our contacts could place either her or the half-demon wizard we suspected had gated her in, but eventually she’d make her move and we had to be ready.

As I stared at my husband, I realized that he was looking older. Not old, but wiser, stronger, and more world-weary than when we’d first met. Hell, we’d all aged, if not in looks, in spirit.

Morio wore an indigo muslin shirt and a matching pair of loose pants. His outfit was belted with a silver sash, off of which hung a sheath protecting a serrated blade. His jet-black hair was smooth and shiny, loose from its usual ponytail. My ritual garments complemented his own: an indigo low-cut gown that swept the floor. It was loose enough to move in, form-fitting enough not to hinder me. Belted on my right side hung my silver dagger. On my left—the unicorn’s horn.

He paused, finger to the wind, then nodded.

“So we just repeat the Summoning spell, but in the opposite pattern, along with the Chant to Dispel?”

“Right. Go ahead. Since you did the actual summoning, you should be the one to banish the spirit.”

I leaned over the center of the bench, across which was spread a smooth layer of salt and rosemary needles. Picking up the obsidian blade, I pinpointed the energy and traced the salt-drawn pentagram in reverse, then circled it widdershins to open the pentacle.

“Suminae banis, suminae banis, mortis mordente, suminae banis.” I focused on banishing the spirit we’d summoned.

The energy swirled through my body, through the blade, into the salt and herbs. There was a sudden silence as the wind dropped and the air grew thick. Above the center of the altar, the ghostly form appeared and, with a slow shriek, vanished from sight, sucked into a spinning vortex. I sealed the spell with a violent slash, severing the energy that had opened the gate to the Netherworld. There was a swift pop and the portal disappeared.

“Nifty! It worked. Not quite as powerful as opening a Demon Gate, but hey, at least this time I didn’t set loose a dozen wayward ghosts,” I said as the clouds broke wide, loosing thunder and lightning and a flurry of hail. The candle flames sizzled and went out, and rain began to pour, soaking us to the skin.

“Think the universe is trying to tell us something?” I watched as the rain washed away all evidence of the salt and rosemary.

Morio let out a long sigh and picked up the candles, emptying the water that pooled in their centers. “Come on, we’ve got two zombies to clean up after. And after that I just want to go home, take a hot bath, and then . . .” He paused, giving me a long look.

“And then you’re going to jump my bones and make me a happy, happy woman,” I finished for him.

He cocked his head to one side and winked. “Oh yeah,” he said. “And make myself a happy, happy man.”

CHAPTER 2

By the time we cleaned up the zombies and reached the car, I was feeling grungy and in need of a shower. The thought of hot water was my holy grail. I wanted nothing more than to wash off both ectoplasm and the tidbits of rotting flesh that clung to my skin. Gingerly, I slipped behind the wheel as Morio slid into the passenger seat. A glance at the clock showed that it was eleven P.M. We hadn’t hit the witching hour yet, but the only magic I wanted for the rest of the night was sex magic. Better yet, skip the magic, just bring on the boys.

I leaned back against the plush leather seat of my Lexus, closing my eyes for just a moment before starting the ignition and glancing over my shoulder to make sure I was clear to back out of the parking lot.

Morio seemed as tired as I was. He yawned. “Death magic really takes a toll on the body, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Summoning that spirit left me wiped. I’m more exhausted from that than from calling down the lightning.” I was about to pull out when my cell phone jangled. I stopped, put the car in park, and motioned to my purse, which was on the floor next to Morio.

“Hand me my phone, would you? That better not be Delilah asking me to pick up some milk for her. I’m not playing delivery woman tonight.”

He fished it out for me.

I glanced at the caller ID. Menolly. My other sister, who just happened to be a vampire. She should be at work, but the number read as her cell phone rather than the bar. Flipping it open, I pressed the receiver to my ear. “What’s up?”

“If you’re done playing George A. Romero, do you mind helping out in a real emergency?” Her voice was terse. She wasn’t teasing.

“What happened? Is Delilah okay? Iris? Maggie?”

“Yeah, yeah—no problem on the home front,” she said. “Chase called us in. I’m headed over to help him right now and Delilah’s on her way from home. Apparently there’s a run on the undead tonight. You know Harold Young’s house, or at least, what’s left of it?”

I didn’t want to think about Harold Young or the scorched remains that had been his mansion. In fact, if I never heard his name again, it would be too soon. He’d been one of the nerds from hell we’d had to take out. Bent on sacrificing female Fae to Shadow Wing, he and his buddies belonged to a secret order called Dante’s Hellions. They’d royally fucked up and actually invoked a Karsetii demon—one of the Demons from the Depths. That’s depths as in astral depths, not ocean depths.

Their mistake had been the only thing that saved themselves—and us—from total catastrophe. But they’d caused way too much death and mayhem, so we’d taken their entire organization down and trundled those who survived over to Otherworld for incarceration. They knew far too much about Shadow Wing to leave them Earthside.

“I’m putting you on speaker so Morio can hear,” I said slowly, punching the button so her voice echoed with an eerie static through the car. “Go ahead.”

“According to Chase, something’s haunting the tangle that’s grown wild around the ruins of Harold’s house. A passerby spotted what he thought was a dead body in the bushes before seeing something that scared him spitless. He raced out of there like a bat out of hell and called the cops.”

“He know what it was?”

“Nope. And when Chase and Shamas went to check it out, they encountered the same thing—some sort of spirit that scared the shit out of both of them. Shamas said the energy signature places it as being from the Netherworld, but he’s not sure exactly what it is. Chase needs to check out the body, but doesn’t want to send his men in until he knows what they’re facing.”

“And that’s where we come in.” I let out a long sigh. “Oh all right, we’ll meet you there.” I handed the phone to Morio.

“What is it?” He took the phone, softly stroking my hand in the process.

“There have been far too many reports of ghosts and zombies and ghouls lately. Something’s up and I’d like to know what’s going on.” I frowned as I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. The Lexus could go from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye, and as we sped down the street, I kept my internal radar on for cops. I wasn’t a speed demon like Morio or my sister Menolly, but right now the thought that we were on the verge of something big and ugly niggled at the back of my brain.

“Yeah, I know. Last week we took four calls about spirits, and three about zombies. Somebody around here is raising the dead and we need to find out who.”

“You mean besides us?” I flashed him a grin as he tapped my knee with one finger, sending a shiver of desire up my thigh. His mere touch was enough to set me off when we’d been running magic. “What?”

“Slow down. We’re in town. There are women and children about.”

Snorting, I eased back on the gas. “You’re one to talk. And at this time of night on a wet September evening, the only ones still out are the junkies and the homeless—and the homeless don’t usually hang out in the middle of the street.” I sighed. “I think we should just dig up every corpse around here and cremate them, seal the portals once and for all, and then take off for a nice, long vacation.”

He laughed, the smooth cadence of his voice soothing me like warm honey. “If we went on vacation, you’d be bored and complaining in no time. You want me to drive the rest of the way?”

I shook my head. “Nope . . . just stick by my side, love. Stick by my side.”

So, I guess introductions are in order. I’m Camille, the oldest of the D’Artigo sisters. And because of our heritage, we’re all a bunch of misfits, in one way or another. Our father is full-blooded Fae, our mother human. With our mixed heritage, the three of us walk between the worlds, belonging neither fully to Otherworld nor to Earthside.

I’m a witch pledged to the Coterie of the Moon Mother, and I’m the oldest of three sisters. Four, technically, if you count Arial, Delilah’s twin, who died at birth and who recently showed up to surprise us all. She’s a ghost leopard and none of us knew about her until just a few months ago.

I’ve been called everything from seductress to slut, and when people do the tsk-tsk thing about my wardrobe (elegant fetish-noir) or my lovers (multiple and none of them human), I just chalk it up to envy. They don’t have to walk in my shoes, so they can take their opinions and shove it. My magic backfires all too often. I’m addicted to makeup and coffee. And I’m certainly not the most diplomatic person in the world. But as Popeye said, I am who I am, and if people don’t like it, fuck ’em.

Delilah, the second born, is the most naïve of the three of us though she’s learning too fast what the world is really like. A werecat, she transforms into a long-haired golden tabby cat at all the wrong times. Now she also has to cope with being a Death Maiden, thanks to the Autumn Lord, and the second Were form that’s emerged for her—a black panther. She can’t control it, either. As I said, Delilah had a twin, but something happened. We don’t know what, thanks to our not-so-talkative father, but Arial died at birth. Delilah thinks Jerry Springer is god, and she has two boyfriends—one human, one not so much, though Zachary, the werepuma, was seriously hurt not long ago saving the ass of her FBH boyfriend Chase.

And our youngest sister is Menolly. Menolly used to be a jian-tu, a spy who was an incredible acrobat. But once in a while that old half-breed curse hits her and her powers falter. That’s how she ended up a vampire. She was spying on a rogue clan of vamps back in Otherworld when she literally fell into their midst. Dredge, the most horrific vampire alive, raped her, tortured her, bled her dry, and turned her. Menolly spent a year in a black fit of insanity but the OIA helped her learn to control herself and she came home to the family. Not long ago she staked her sire—a revenge long overdue.

We work for the OIA—the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. Of course, back home it’s known by another name.

What the OIA didn’t realize when they parked us Earthside is that Shadow Wing, demon lord in control of the Subterranean Realms, was bent on a plan to break through the portals that divide the realms so he can turn both Earth and Otherworld into his private little mosh pit. To do so, he needs to gather as many of the spirit seals as he can—ancient artifacts that keep the realms separate. We stumbled onto his plan and we’re now the frontline defense, trying to collect the spirit seals before he has a chance to. We’ve got four; the demons have one and that’s one too many. Four are still up for grabs. We’ve been gathering our allies, but they’re few and far between given the number of the enemy that we’re facing. So far, we’ve defeated two of his scouting squads and one of his generals—the R?ksasa who managed to get hold of the third spirit seal. But there are thousands of demons just waiting to cross through the portals. And they plan to make life a living hell for anybody who stands in their way.

As we sped through the September night, the rain splashed in fat globules against the windshield. I flipped on the wipers and thanked the gods that I hadn’t let the car dealer talk me into a convertible. Morio was busy searching in his bag. He finally pulled out a couple of Snickers bars, opened one and handed it to me.

“Here, you need the energy. So do I.”

I bit into the candy. “Thanks—needed that,” I said, my words muffled by caramel and nougat. He was so right. I was exhausted, and I knew he wasn’t far behind. Being a youkaikitsune, he was stronger than me and had more endurance.

“Smoky going to get his ass out of bed and show up?” he asked.

“Probably,” I mumbled through another mouthful of chocolate. Smoky, also my husband, was—like all dragons—concerned most with his own affairs. But he loved me. Ergo, he helped us. And his help was incredibly welcome. That tall drink of water was a force unto himself. As I finished the candy, the sugar rush hit. “I could use about ten of those, but that definitely hit the spot.”