Raw Power: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Demon-Hearted Book 1) (24 page)

Kubo groaned, punching the steering wheel. “It's real simple. We beat the witches to it, captured Gadreel and cut out his heart. That heart is in you, but the witches can still gain control of the demon if they succeed. And they're damn close to doing it. We did it because we wanted to use the demon's power for good in the world, rather than let Agatha harness it for herself. Unless you'd rather be working under Agatha from here on out, I suggest you put on your big boy pants and put all of this behind you. I can't make it any clearer. What could you possibly have questions about beyond what I've just explained? What do you still have doubts about?”

I sniffed the air, sitting silently for some time with a grimace. “Well,” I began, “were you lying when you said JFK was a werewolf?”

Joe started laughing his ass off from the back seat.

“No,” replied an exasperated Kubo. “That was true. You won't find it in any history book, but he was a bloodthirsty werewolf. He went through an unprecedented amount of young White House aides. Idiots at the White House kept hiring new ones, thinking that they were just quitting without giving notice, but Kennedy was taking them home every night and literally devouring them. There were several bags of bloody clothing stuffed into the cabinets in the Oval Office that were found after the fact. Anything else you want to know about? Because if that's all, I'd really love to get a start on this fucking mission, Lucian.”

“Lucian?” I tried to hide it, but a flicker of a smile danced across my lips. “Much better, chief.”

THIRTY-THREE

The Veiled Order and the coven of Mater Agatha were playing a high-stakes game of chess, and I was the pawn they were both struggling to control.

And I wasn't really cool with that.

 
Still, I followed Kubo and the others out of the SUV and got my game face on. It wasn't because I
wanted
to help the guy. Kubo, and the other two, for that matter, had kept important information from me despite all we'd been through. It pissed me off, to say the least, and a part of me would have preferred to send them into the lion's den without their trusty Demon-Heart.

But I had reasons of my own for tagging along, despite my anger.

For starters, I wasn't trying to work for Agatha and her sisters. It just wasn't going to happen. I'd strike 'em all dead before they managed to pull off their spell if only to spare myself a lifetime of servitude.

And then there was the kidnapped infant to think about. It would have been far too easy to just turn my back on the tyke, to walk away or, worse, try to bring down a hundred lightning bolts on the building and burn it to the ground. But I wasn't willing to gamble with anyone else's life. I'm not like that. Not anymore, anyhow. Despite his keeping the truth from me, Joe had helped me realize something important.

Lucian Colt's never been a good person.

I've been a lot of things over the years; passive, indifferent, violent, greedy, selfish.

Maybe a little sexy.

 
But I'd never been a
good
person, not by a long shot. That was going to change today. I was gonna save that kid and punish the witches that'd taken him from his folks. Today, despite my reservations, I was going to follow through and do the right thing by participating.

Now, as for what might happen after the job was done, that was anyone's guess.

Maybe, when the job was through and the checks had been cashed, I'd walk away. Disappear.

The four of us walked on the sidewalk, with Kubo leading the way. Isabella bumbled behind him and Joe hung back casually, slumping, with his hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. As for me, I brought up the rear, staying several feet behind Joe and keeping to myself. I didn't much want to talk to any of them and had far too much to think about.

Much as I hated to admit it, Kubo had had a point. My knowing the truth, that the witches were after me, wasn't exactly helping me keep my head clear. The gravity of the mission was eroded a little bit by the haze of hurt and confusion that washed over me. When the time actually came to act, I had no doubt I'd be able to spring into action and kick some witchy ass. But until then, I had a fair bit of moody brooding to do.

We were getting close, apparently, because Kubo slowed his pace and started keeping his eyes peeled for anything untoward. “It's daylight out, so we shouldn't have to worry about any familiars outside,” said Kubo, turning to the rest of us. “But it's possible they've laid other traps near the building, something to tip them off in the event that craft users should drift near.”

He paced on carefully, studying his surroundings with no little closeness. When we'd pushed on a little further, he signaled to Isabella.

Poking and prodding at her palms, Isabella's curious spell craft drew the curious glances of some passing motorists.

“They won't hear us coming,” said Kubo when she was through. “And they don't know we've found them out. We have the element of surprise in our favor. They're done for this time. Stay close to me and keep your eyes open for anything out of sorts.” Then, scowling at me, he added, “You care to join us up here, Lucy?”

“Not really,” I said, meeting his scowl with one of my own.

The team marched on.

It was a few minutes later when the destination came into view. Ernie had called it an abandoned church and had even given us the name, though it wasn't until I saw it in person that I actually recognized it. I'd driven by this church countless times, had gone to the elementary school around the corner, which was also some years closed. I took a hard look at the building, not sure what Kubo and the others were looking for. The grounds had become rather overgrown, which made it a little easier for us to snoop around without drawing much attention from drivers on the busy roads nearby.

Kubo was moving so slowly he might as well have been crawling through the overgrown grass. Every mass of leaves, every arbitrary pile of twigs, was cause for suspicion, and he investigated them gingerly with his outstretched foot before slowly moving on.

“You looking for land mines over there?” I asked, yawning.

“Something like that,” he replied, nearing the building and laying a hand upon the brick exterior. Closing his eyes, he loosed a long-held breath and pressed his palm into the building. “I can sense them inside. There are numerous presences within.” Kubo reached into his pocket and took out a stack of paper seals, bound together by a rubber band. Smacking the bundle against his palm, he flipped through them, made sure none were sticking together. “I prepared these last night. I need to post them all around the building to break down the barriers that are in place. Ernie was right; there's powerful magic guarding this building. This spot is heavily fortified. I'll post my seals all over the property after I've found the source of their warding spells. I'll tamper with their seals and make them amplify the power of mine, instead.” Looking up and down the length of the wall before him, he appraised the worn-out bricks with care. “If I were Agatha, where would I hide the grounding seals for a barrier like this? Where would I center these spells?”

Isabella had wandered from his side, pushing through the overgrown grass and exploring the grounds. She called his attention to a large, flat stone half-buried in the swaying grass. “Isabella would use cornerstones like this one,” she said, pointing down at the stone.

Kubo rushed over, tore away a few fist fulls of grass, and then grinned. “Nice find. You're right, Isabella. The cornerstones make the most sense. We need only disrupt one to break the barrier, but I'll be interested in finding the other three so that I can manipulate them and power up my seals.”

I ambled over to the stone. It was a polished thing with a flat, clear face, and it didn't look like anything that belonged on the property. On the smooth surface was an intricate magic circle, drawn in careful smears of black ash. “What, the witches are drawing their power from this rock?” I asked.

“Not quite.” Kubo rifled around in his jacket pocket, eventually producing a small vial of water and a tiny bag that looked like a coin purse. “These stones, cornerstones, contain large amounts of quartz. They're fashioned by skilled craftsman to conduct energy, and the surface is made smooth enough to inscribe potent seals on, like this one. Agatha hid them in the four corners of the property, I bet, hoping that no one would find them in this mess of a yard, but now that I've found one, I can wash away her seal and inscribe one of my own.” He poured a bit of his water onto the stone and the magic circle was quickly eaten away. A puff of steam rose from the design as it was dissolved. With his hand, Kubo wiped away the dregs, leaving the stone clean and ready for a new circle.

 
“So, you just wash it off and write your own spell on it?” I asked. “Seems too simple. You dump some water on it and that's it? I thought these witches were supposed to be
good
. What if it had rained? Would her spell have gone to crap then?”

Kubo took a stick of black chalk from the small bag and then began slowly drawing a double-walled circle upon the stone. Within it, he drew a five-pointed star, and across the center of the star, was placed a large, black smear. I'd seen this very design before, on Amundsen's pendant. The inner ring was filled with small symbols as he further explained. “Mere water isn't enough. The water I used to cleanse the stone is enchanted. It comes from a particular spring, and has been aged for decades in a sealed vessel packed in rare herbs. It isn't easy to come by; a gift from Mona. This chalk is made from talc and ash. Aside from blood, ash is the best medium one can use in creating magical seals. It's been used since ancient times, its magical properties revealed to man by denizens of the Beyond eons ago. Not just any ash will do, though. Different types of ash have different properties. This stick was made with the ash of wormwood.”

I feigned excitement. “Oh, boy! And what the hell's that supposed to mean?”

Kubo finished his work, returned the chalk to his bag, and then cleaned off his hands, chuckling. “It means it's a bitch and a half to wash off. Wormwood ash is the permanent marker of the spirit world. Agatha won't ever be able to recover this cornerstone.”

I hate to admit that I was impressed. Kubo was a lying prick, a cold motherfucker who didn't care about me or the others except as a means to an end. But when he was in his element, demonstrating his skill, it was arresting to watch. The guy was a master.

“Where'd you learn all of this, Kubo? How long have you been practicing spell craft?” I asked as he started looking for the next cornerstone.

He replied disinterestedly, his tone relaying that he was far too preoccupied with the thrill of spell craft to talk about it right now. “My grandfather taught me. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime,” he said absently.

One by one the other cornerstones were found, and like the first, Kubo took his time erasing Agatha's work and replacing it with his own. When the four stones had been changed and the building was primed to amplify only his own spells, he started tacking the paper sigils to the outside of the building. He didn't need tape this time, however. They stuck to the bricks like dryer sheets drawn to staticky laundry. “What I've done,” he said, his deep voice marked in pride, “is effectively shut off their power. Disconnected their alarm system. Now, by posting these sigils on the outside, I'm casting a spell of my own. I'm changing the locks and moving in, see? Any spell I cast inside the church now will be boosted by this barrier the sigils create, and the whole thing is made possible because I've commandeered the cornerstones. Make sense?” Kubo was speaking like a lecturer now. I think he secretly wanted to gush about spell craft, to geek out about it with an interested party. I'd never taken him to be that kind of guy; he was far too serious most of the time. Then again, I'd never seen him work this hard, either.

“Not really,”I admitted. “This is all a bit over my head. But... it sounds to me like Agatha and her crew have just been evicted.”

Kubo placed the last of the sigils. “Absolutely goddamn right.”

THIRTY-FOUR

We approached the nearest door and began planning our entrance. Kubo could sense its inhabitants but we couldn't be sure just where inside the church they were. The main entrance, marked by large, wooden double doors, was out of the question. It was thoroughly chained and would have made too obvious an entry point for any watchful witches. We set our sights instead on a side door, presumably the one Ernie had seen the witches entering through the other night.

Before we went in, Kubo studied the door carefully. He touched it, pulled it open very slightly and studied the frame. Spotting something inscribed upon the inside of the frame, in the lower left, he looked to Joe. “Torch the door and the frame. It's been marked and we're going to tip them off if we cross the threshold without first destroying this seal.”

With more finesse than I'll ever be able to understand, Joe walked up, lighter in hand, and made light work of the door. First he melted the hinges by superheating them, allowing the door to fall outward onto the grass. When Kubo had dragged it out onto the lawn, Joe showered it with small tongues of flame until the thing was left a pile of cinders. The frame was next, and was a little trickier. He zeroed in on the small seal that'd been etched into it and burned that portion first. Then, melting the nails that held it in place, he pulled the door frame loose and burned it just like he'd done the door. “Voila,” he said, closing the Zippo with a click.

In the process of getting rid of the door and the enchanted frame, we'd created quite a bit of smoke. It wasn't a subtle affair, and I had trouble believing that onlookers from the street wouldn't take notice. We were setting fire to things, breaking into an abandoned church. Even if the view was decently blocked by overgrown foliage, the possibility of being found out by passing motorists or pedestrians seemed high.

And don't even get me started on the witches.

What if they smelled the smoke? Heard us fucking with their door and came rushing at us from the next room?