How To Recognize A Demon Has Become Your Friend (Necon Modern Horror Book 9) (12 page)
Read How To Recognize A Demon Has Become Your Friend (Necon Modern Horror Book 9) Online
Authors: Linda Addison
“You know that for a fact?”
Brenda nodded and looked across
the bar at the wide mirror. A shudder went through her . . .
. . . she was back in the club,
sitting in a chair. She tried to move, but ropes held her tight. A silence
spell kept Brenda/Angelique from talking. Through Angelique’s eyes the images
were warped and stretched.
“Brenda, I know you can hear me,”
Mac said. “It’s fortunate that you and your cousin are so close. It saved her
life.”
Mac passed the laser knife in
front of their face. “I can start carving your cousin up, or you can give me
what I want. And just so you know I’m serious.”
He walked behind
Brenda/Angelique, she heard the high-pitched sound of the laser coming on. They
struggled in the chair and screamed at the jolt of pain in her right hand. The
pain dulled to a throb. Mac showed her a fingertip.
“I sealed the wound so she won’t
bleed to death. Just the little finger, above the knuckle. Something that can
be rebuilt, but I can do more, much more.” He waved his hand in front of her
face and the silence spell lifted briefly.
“No, please, don’t hurt her
anymore,” Brenda said, using Angelique’s voice. “I’ll meet you at the corner of
Canal and Basin. Bring Angelique.”
“I sincerely hope you’re not
going to try anything. I’d hate for you to experience the death of your
cousin,” Mac said. He shoved Brenda out of her cousin’s mind.
“What’s wrong?” Sara asked. “Are
you all right?”
“Come on,” Brenda said, pulling
Sara out of the bar.
As they walked to the meeting
place, Brenda explained everything to Sara.
“I don’t need magic to know that
he’s dangerous,” Sara said. “Do you really think he’ll just let us walk away
after he gets the information from you?”
Brenda shook her head. “At the
best he’ll use his power to scramble our minds, which could probably turn a
normal person into a vegetable. You know what the worst case is. Angelique and
I could probably fight off some of his power together, but I don’t think we
could protect you too. In fact, you should go somewhere safe until this is
over.”
“No can do, not while Angelique’s
in danger. I’ve lived in New Orleans long enough to suspect there was something
to magic, but I’m not sure I can believe all of this,” Sara said as they walked
down the street.
“I understand your skepticism,”
Brenda said. “If you won’t leave then you have to do whatever I say, whether
you believe or not.”
Sara nodded.
Brenda looked up at the entrance
to the St. Louis Cemetery #1.
“We’ll meet them inside.”
Sara hesitated. “Not that I’m
afraid, but I don’t think cemeteries and magic are a good mix.”
“I’m hoping not.” Brenda said a
quick chant asking for the blessings of the dead before they entered.
They walked through the rows of
stone houses. The full moon made the white stone crypts and concrete ground
glow. Brenda went to a brick wall of arches, burial holes for the poorer
community. A couple of the arches fronts had crumbled, leaving gaping openings.
She laid her hand on the front of each small arch until she felt the vibration
she needed.
“Someone in here died angry and
betrayed.”
“What are you doing?” Sara asked.
“Trying to get us out of the mess
I got us into.” She put her finger to her lips to quiet Sara.
She pulled a piece of red yarn
out of a small bag in her pocket. Holding the yarn against the sealed burial
hole, she said:
“With this knot I seal this spell
You will not rest, you will not
tell
Knots of red, knots times three
Bringing chaos and forgetfulness
From the rage within to thee
So mote it be.”
Each time Brenda tied a knot she
said the spell until she had tied three knots in the yarn. She bowed to the
crypt, said a chant of thanks to the bones within and put the yarn in her
pocket.
“Let’s go,” Brenda said running
back to the cemetery entrance. They stopped within the borders of the grounds.
“When they get here, I’ll take care of Mac. You keep your eye on the woman.”
A blue car pulled up slowly to
the entrance. Mac got out with Angelique and the Asian woman. Mac walked with
his arm around Angelique’s waist and one hand holding the laser knife against
her side. Angelique held her wounded hand tucked under her arm. She stumbled at
the edge of the sidewalk. The woman held a gun down at her side. They stopped
outside the entrance.
“Are you all right?” Sara asked.
“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,”
Mac said. “A cemetery. Fitting if you try to trick me.”
“The information is in a memory
rod in here.” Brenda pointed into the cemetery.
“Then let’s get it and finish
this,” the Asian woman said.
“This way,” Brenda said, leading
them back to the brick wall.
Sara tried to talk to Angelique,
but the woman waved her ahead with the gun. They walked past the sealed burial
arches to one that was open. The concrete entrance had collapsed inside the
arch.
Brenda put her hand inside,
pushing aside chunks of concrete. “How do I know you’ll let us go?”
“I didn’t think you’d argue with
sharing a forgetfulness spell between the three of you.” Mac smiled.
“Okay.” Brenda glanced at Sara
and Angelique quickly. Sara stood next to the woman with the gun. Mac lowered
the knife toward the ground. Brenda grabbed a chunk of concrete from inside the
arch and threw it at the woman’s head, hitting her in the face. As she fell
backwards the gun went off, the bullet grazing Brenda’s arm. Sara jumped on the
woman and slammed her head into the ground, until she passed out.
Angelique grabbed Mac’s wrist
with her good hand and swung with all her weight, turning him off balance.
There was a crack as his wrist broke, making him scream and drop the knife.
Brenda rushed in and kicked him in the back of his knee. He crumbled to the
ground. Sara grabbed the knife, sat on his back and held it to his neck.
“Don’t move, Mac, or I’ll
activate the blade, and you won’t care if the wound is sealed,” she said.
Brenda pulled the knotted yarn
out of her pocket and dragged the Asian woman next to Mac. She sat between them
on the ground and placed her left hand on the woman’s forehead, grasped
Angelique’s hand with her right along with the yarn. Angelique knew immediately
what Brenda intended and let the fingers of her injured right hand touch the
back of Mac’s head. Brenda said:
“With this knot I seal this spell
You will not rest, you will not
tell
Knots of red, knots times three
Bringing chaos and forgetfulness
From the rage within to thee
So mote it be.”
Electricity shot through the
cousins into their captives. Mac’s body stiffened, as did the woman’s
unconscious body. Brenda said it again. Mac moaned, “No.” The third time Brenda
said it Mac’s body went limp. The cousins closed their eyes.
They were falling in a dark sky.
Thunder and lightning cut through the air. Four bodies tumbled in a circle,
hands tightly clasped as if fused together. The first word of Brenda’s spell
echoed in a strange voice around them like the sound of a car crash. The
screech of metal became winged creatures, their long beaks and tails ended in
razor sharp edges. On the second word, the creatures swooped at them, using
their beaks and tails to cut and whip at the woman and Mac.
Mac tried to pull away, but the
more power he gathered, the bigger the creatures grew. The woman screamed
uncontrollably.
The voice continued reciting each
word of the spell with building rage and poisonous anger. Thick blood splashed
on the cousins as the creatures tore and ripped away at Mac and the woman. On
the last word Brenda and Angelique released their hands and opened their eyes.
“You don’t have to hold the knife
on him anymore,” Brenda said, took the knife from Sara and helped Angelique
stand up. Brenda’s upper arm stung and bled where the bullet had brushed it.
She looked at her cousin’s missing fingertip. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”
Angelique laughed weakly. “You
need to have that arm looked at, too.”
“So, we just walk out of here and leave
them?” Sara asked.
“They won’t bother us again. Their memory
is in pieces, ripped to shreds,” Brenda said.
“Where did you keep the information they
were after?” Sara asked, putting her arm around Angelique’s waist.
Brenda turned and smiled in the
moonlight. She jangled the charm bracelet in the air. “Mac was right. I always
carried the data with me, but tonight I downloaded it somewhere even safer.”
“Tonight?” Angelique asked, leaning
against Sara. “You put it in Milez.”
Brenda smiled.
They won’t cross the threshold to
your home
without a spoken invitation,
snarling when you
ask if they will go to church with you.
You find strange patterns draw in
chalk under
your bed after they have visited,
your pets
suddenly begin to disappear.
They ask for your first born as a
birthday
gift, avoiding the mirrors in your
house
saying they’re having a bad hair day.
You dream you ran away with them
to the Circus of Lost Souls, upon
waking
you see red circus tents on the horizon.
They begin to smell like sulfur,
giggling when you tell them
someone has died in your family.
They take you to the crossroads
at midnight for a party, you offer
your soul as a door prize.
Linda Addison grew up in
Philadelphia, the oldest of nine children and began weaving stories at an early
age. She moved to New York after college and has published over 200 poems,
stories and articles. Addison is the award-winning author of
Being Full of Light, Insubstantial
(Space & Time Books) and the first African-American to receive the HWA Bram
Stoker Award. Catch her work in
Genesis:
An Anthology of Black Science Fiction, Dark Faith
and
New Blood
anthologies.
She is founding member of a
writers group, CITH (Circles in the Hair), since 1990 and a member of the
Horror Writers Association (HWA), Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of
America (SFWA), Science-Fiction Poetry Association (SFPA).
See her site,
http://www.lindaaddisonpoet.com, for the latest information.
Jill Bauman has been a freelance
illustrator/designer for 32 years. In that time she has produced hundreds of
covers for horror, mystery, fantasy, science fiction, best-selling books and
other products.
She has illustrated works by
Stephen King, Harlan Ellison, Peter Straub, Lilian Jackson Braun, Charles L.
Grant, Robert McCammon, Richard Laymon, Jack Williamson, Hugh B. Cave, Fritz
Leiber, Michael Resnick, J. G. Ballard, Stuart O’Nan and Justin Cronin.
Jill has been nominated for the
World Fantasy Award five times and nominated for the Chesley Award several
times. Her art has been exhibited at the Delaware Art Museum, the Moore College
of Art, Science Fiction Museum of Seattle, NY Art Students League and the NY
Illustrators Society.
Jill lives in
Queens, New York.
Animated Objects
A first collection of poetry and
prose, some original, some reprinted from such sources as Asimov’s Science
Fiction Magazine and Pirate Writings Magazine. Includes an introduction by
Barry N. Malzberg and “Little Red in the Hood,” on the Honorable Mention list
in the Tenth Annual Year’s Best Fantasy & Horror (1997).
“Addison has enough invention for
two writers. And enough heart for three.”
— Terry Bisson
Space & Time Books:
ISBN 0-917053-09-5 (paper) $7.95
ISBN 0-917053-10-9 (hardcover)
$14.95
Being Full of Light, Insubstantial
An exciting collection of 100
poems, most never seen before, from the first African-American to receive the
Horror Writers Association’s coveted Bram Stoker Award!
Original photography and
variations by Brian J. Addison.
“… is poetic achievement as solid
and well-founded as a palace cornerstone. And that palace rings with the thrum
and cadence of voice, weaving tales and songs full of fantasy and myth that
will sweep you down from the eaves and up to the towers.”
— Tom Piccirilli, author of THE
MIDNIGHT ROAD
Space & Time Books:
ISBN 978-0-917053-16-0 $10.00
Received Bram Stoker award
Consumed, Reduced to Beautiful Grey Ashes
A collection of poetry to capture
the path between things gone bad and transformation.
“...reveals the little horrors of
the days, the curiously individual science fictions of the nights, the
fantasies where ‘tomorrow will be reborn’.”
— Charlee Jacob
Space & Time Books:
ISBN 0-917053-13-3 $7.00
Received Bram Stoker award
