Tarnished and Torn (25 page)

Everything was much as before when we arrived at the park: the informal gathering of mostly young people, painting one another’s skin, banging on drums, chatting and laughing. One woman had made fairy chains of tiny daisies and was distributing her garlands to the crowd. She placed one on my head and I was about to take it off when I noticed Sailor looking at me, a half smile on his face.

“Looks good. You would have been an adorable hippie, back in the day.”

I left it on.

And just as last time, a ululating woman welcomed the setting of the sun. The lampposts remained dark. Sometime later, as true dark overcame us, Gene appeared to greet the crowd and lit the pots and torches of the dancers.

They whirled and danced, hopped and rolled, their fire making crazy designs in the air.

“This doesn’t feel good,” said Sailor quietly as we watched the action.

“They’re just getting started,” I replied. Sure enough, just as they had last time, the crowd seemed to slip into a sort of trance, mesmerized by the fire.

“Can you get a handle on what he’s after?” I asked Sailor.

He shook his head, frowning. “Not really. He’s . . . There’s something going on. The dancing energy is building, and I think your pal Gene over there is trying to piggyback on it.”

“Like the power of a circle?” Covens relied on the power of forming a circle and focusing their intent to create enough energy to manifest magic.

“Something like that. But with one serious difference: this is not chosen by the participants. They’re being manipulated, not exactly against their will, but without full knowledge of what they’re agreeing to.”

I nodded. That made sense.

As the frenetic movement ratcheted up, I looked over to see Gene staring at me and smiling.

“There,” I said to Sailor, nodding in Gene’s direction. “That’s what he does. I think he’s using the energy to channel something . . . maybe the demon?”

“I think you’re right.”

“Since he hasn’t found the ring yet, maybe he’s just entertaining his master or adding to his energy somehow?”

Silence. I turned around to see Sailor had already taken off and was striding over to where Gene was standing. I hurried to catch up. Gene just smiled serenely as we approached.

“I see you’ve become quite the devotee,” Gene said. Gone was the Jersey accent. Instead his voice had a different inflection; something foreign I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “I saw you here last time. You fought my spell.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
”

“Are you responsible for what happened to Renna Sandino?” Sailor asked, his voice low and threatening. I looked at him askance, wondering whether he really thought he could just haul off and punch a demon’s human minion.

Gene barely even noticed Sailor was speaking. His eyes were for me alone. As was his message.

“You think to go after
me
? What about your friend over there?” He gestured over near the edge of the eucalyptus grove.

And there stood Maya, smiling and staring at the fire dancers. What in the world was she
doing
here? When I turned back to Sailor, he appeared to be just as enthralled with the dancers as everyone else.

“Your young friend is just about mine now,” Gene continued with a shrug. “These kids, they’re seeking direction in life, and I give it to them. They become mine to use. Your sweet little Maya there, she’ll do as
I
say now. I got her to come here tonight against your wishes. Did I not?”

“You leave her be. I command you.”

“You and what supernatural army? I command legions.” His voice changed, grew deeper.
“‘I flamed amazement; sometimes I’d divide. And burn in many places
.
’
”

I recognized that quote from somewhere. Then it dawned on me . . . Shakespeare’s
The Tempest.
It was spoken by Ariel, the fire elemental. One of the disconcerting things about demons is that they are often well read, and have a wicked sense of humor.

“Listen. Leave her alone, and I’ll work with you on finding the ring. That’s what you’re really after, right? How about I find the ring, and you release her and my father? And Clem.”

His smile grew. He threw his head back and started to laugh, a kind of deep, frightening sound that dipped below the range of normal hearing, stinging my ears, making my head ache and my heart pound. I slapped my hands over my ears, but not before I heard the clopping of horse hooves on pavement and looked around to see two uniformed officers on horseback come down the pathway into the clearing.

They looked at the half-clad young people dancing and spinning and drumming, and shook their heads in a “young people today” sort of attitude.

Until clothes started to catch fire. A few screams rang out, but the dancers mostly laughed, seemingly unconcerned by the flames. The police officers jumped off their mounts and ran to assist them.

Sailor, having suddenly snapped out of his stupor, ran to help as well.

When I turned back, Gene was gone.

Once I had taken Maya back home to Bronwyn and Lucille with strict instructions to keep her in their sight at all times, I strode off toward my car with great purpose.

White-hot anger flowed through my veins when I thought of Gene—or Xolotl, really—threatening Maya. My father and Clem and Zeke, for that matter, had made their own deals with the demon Xolotl, had entered into agreements based on their own greed or stupidity, but they were grown men. Maya was grown, too, but she seemed more vulnerable somehow. And besides all that, she was my friend and therefore under my protection.

And then there was Johannes . . . that poor young man’s fate was in my hands as well. And Renna and Eric deserved vengeance.

“Lily?” I heard Sailor’s voice behind me. “Where are you going?”

“To meet up with an old friend of mine.”

“You don’t have any old friends.”

“Maybe ‘friend’ isn’t the right word. I’m headed to the San Francisco School of Fine Arts. You coming?”

Sailor reared back slightly. “Woah, hold on there. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Will you help me?”

“If you’re signing up for a painting class, sure thing. But why do I have the sense you’re thinking about waking up a certain demon you once bound and banished?”

Arriving at my vintage Mustang, I put the keys in the door lock and looked at him over the roof of the car.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Will that spell you cast earlier keep me from being susceptible? Since I fell into the trance, I assumed it had worn off.”

“Fine. Don’t help. I’ll do it myself.”

“Stop it, Lily. You said yourself that if my thoughts meld with a demon’s . . . I have no way of protecting myself, of keeping him from riding on whatever abilities I have. I could end up hurting you.”

“You saw him, Sailor. You felt him. I can’t stop that thing by myself. Not without that ring, anyway.”

“I agree he’s bad news,” said Sailor. “Although any demon who quotes Shakespeare can’t be all bad.”

I didn’t laugh at his feeble joke.

“I could feel the surge of power through Gene,” I continued. “I can
not
go up against him by myself. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let him take Maya.”

“He’s trying to trap you. Can’t you see that?”

“Maybe so. But the demon at the School of Fine Arts, Sitri, he’s bound to me. If I call him correctly, he has to bend to my will and assist me. I’d be powerful enough with him in my corner. I’ve got plenty of supplies in the trunk, and if I keep focus . . .”

I climbed in behind the wheel.

“Lily,
stop
it. You can’t control Sitri alone.”

He came around to the driver’s side as though to stop me, but I gunned the engine and sped down the street.

I found a parking space on Chestnut Street and started climbing the hill toward the San Francisco School of Fine Arts. I was scared but determined, driven by anger.

Aidan Rhodes was standing in front of the main set of double doors.

Dammit
.

“Sailor called you?”

“Imagine my surprise,” Aidan said. His voice, though smooth as always, radiated annoyance. He was dressed in a tuxedo, as though Sailor had interrupted him during the opera or some fabulous dinner. Aidan liked to hobnob with the city’s upper crust. “I thought Sailor wasn’t speaking to you. I’m not sure how he knew what you were up to, since he claims to still be in New Mexico, as per our agreement. But I guess you called him . . .?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask why you didn’t call
me
?”

“Because I don’t trust you.”

For a brief moment I thought I saw hurt in his sparkling blue eyes. But then he gave me a sad smile and responded, “Well, relationships are tough. Sometimes you wind up trusting the wrong person. Anyway, you don’t have to trust me to ask me to help you.”

I didn’t answer.

“Here’s the thing,” Aidan continued. “I’m not going to let you contact Sitri.”

“I think I can handle it. I can’t find the ring and Maya’s in trouble. This is the only way. Unless
you
have the ring?”

“I’ve already told you I don’t. You don’t think if I did, I might have mentioned it?”

I shrugged.

“Think about what you’re doing. You share more with your father than you know. You are both arrogant enough to think you can control a demon.”

“Sitri isn’t elemental. I can do it.”

“It isn’t worth the risk.”

“We could do it together. You and me.”

“I tried something similar once with your father. Remember? It’s an unholy alliance. I repeat: It’s not worth the risk. I guarantee you.”

Had I been able to cry, I believe I would have shed tears of pure frustration. I was at my wit’s end. I didn’t know what else to do, was afraid for Maya, and even of losing my father again.

Then Aidan did the most amazing thing. He hugged me. He didn’t try to kiss me or read my mind or do anything untoward. He simply held me for a moment and stroked my hair.

Then he held me at arm’s length and gazed at me. “Come on, Lily. Pull yourself together. We still have a real chance against this character. We simply need to locate that ring.”

Yes, that’s all,
I thought to myself.
How hard could that be?

“In the meantime, I suggest you save your energy for the inevitable showdown. Trust me,” Aidan said. “We’ll find the ring. Just trust me.”

•   •   •

The next morning Shawnelle, Marisela, and Metzli came back to Aunt Cora’s Closet to try on their dresses and make sure the alterations were done perfectly.

At the moment Metzli stood on a short platform by the dressing room while Lucille made some last-minute adjustments. The birthday girl kept twisting this way and that, trying to see herself in all angles in the three-way mirror. Marisela was helping by holding the pins for Lucille.

Last night I had placed a protective spell on Bronwyn’s apartment and asked her to keep Maya home with her for a day or two, until I could figure this thing out. Bronwyn agreed; she had gotten a stack of DVDs, and this morning they were all involved in a baking project with Imogen. I shared a little of what was happening with Bronwyn; enough, I hoped, to make her cautious without scaring her too badly. Above all, I tried to convey that it was crucial she keep Maya from fire dancing in the park.

Lucille would go join them once she was through with the alterations. I didn’t want Maya going to her mother’s house, just in case Gene knew Maya’s last name and looked her up.

While Marisela and Metzli were busy, Shawnelle was checking out my display of jewelry. She tried on a big amethyst ring and held her hand out in front of her. It reminded me of the first time we’d met, at the gem show, when she was trying on rings at Griselda’s stand.

“Cool ring,” she said.

“It looks good on you.”

She smiled. “Nice hands; ‘men like that.’ Isn’t that what the funny old woman at the fair said? What was her name?”

“Griselda.”

“Right. Griselda. What kind of name is that, d’you suppose?”

“I think she was from Germany. Like Johannes.” Just the thought of him made my stomach clench. I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to avoid the thought of him going over the railing.

“Oh, right.”

“Speaking of whom . . . what did you two do when you got together on Tuesday? Did you do anything at all unusual?”

“Not really.” She tried on another ring, this one a bright orange glass ring from the late 1960s. “I told you, we did a whole tourist thing.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said, but he really wanted to go.”

“Which sights did you see?”

Her eyes lit up and a faint smile played on her full lips. “We took a cable car, then walked around Fisherman’s Wharf and got some chocolate at Ghirardelli Square. We tried to get an Irish coffee at the Buena Vista, but we didn’t have ID.”

Nothing suspicious about that. Unless . . . “What did you do at Fisherman’s Wharf?”

“I already told you, we just walked around and then we had dinner—Johannes got a real kick out of the clam chowder in a bowl made of bread. Have you seen that? You eat the soup, then the bowl. He said they didn’t have anything like that where he was from. And then he was pretty excited about the oyster crackers, until I told him they weren’t actually made of oysters.”

“Is that all? Did you see any attractions, by any chance?”

“He wanted to go to Alcatraz, but we didn’t have time. So instead, before dinner we went to the Wax Museum.”

“Really . . . what did you do there?”

Shawnelle appeared to tire of trying on rings, as well as of answering my questions. Marisela and Metzli laughed about something, and Shawnelle looked over at the try-on session as though that was the fun table, but she was stuck with me.

“I dunno. Just looked at the lame statues.” She shrugged. “It’s cheesy, but it’s still sort of fun. Johannes called it the false museum, where the people are false.”

“Shawnelle, I have to ask you something very important. Did he leave you at any point? Did he do anything unusual while you were there?”

“Yeah, that was the only kind of weird thing. I mean, the coolest part of the whole museum is the Chamber of Horrors, right? But he told me he’d be right back at one point, and when I found him he was hanging out at the European Explorers exhibit. I mean,
snore
. Who cares about a bunch of old dead white guys you’ve never even heard of?”

“Did Johannes seem to feel better after you left the museum, by any chance?”

“A little bit, yeah. How’d you know that?”

“Just a hunch.” So Johannes felt better after visiting the European Explorers exhibit. The exhibit I had walked through when in pursuit of Aidan how many times?

Johannes witnessed his boss being killed and wasn’t feeling well, but he made sure he got to the Wax Museum. Where the people are false.

•   •   •

Later that night, outside the Wax Museum, Sailor was grousing.

“This makes me nervous as hell.”

“Told you to stay in the car.”

He snorted, “Yeah, right.”

I cast my spell over the door and then brought out the Hand of Glory. I had picked up this gruesome little item, a candleholder made from the mummified hand of a hanged man, from a bizarre murder scene some time ago. As long as I didn’t think about what it actually was, it was one of my favorite magical tools. It opened any lock, and then lit up the room as though it were daytime.

“I thought you lost that thing last time we broke into a building after hours.”

“Max got it back for me.”

Sailor snorted again, more loudly this time. “Max.
Great
. I gotta say, Lily, you do seem to get men to do your bidding for you.”

I stopped in my preparations and glared at him. “What do you mean by
that
?”

“I’m just saying . . . Seems like maybe you’re casting your spell over the menfolk in your life, one way or another.”

“Oh, so you’re saying the only reason a man would want to do me a favor is if I
enchanted
him? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Simmer down, now. I said no such thing. The mention of Max just. . . .” He shrugged in a gesture that was more akin to shaking off an annoying gnat than an apology. “What can I say? He brings out the worst in me.”

“I thought Aidan brought out the worst in you.”

“Him too. You’ve got rotten taste in men.”

“No argument there.”

He gave me a long look.

“Let’s just get this over with and get out of here before Aidan gets wind of what’s going on.”

Breaking into the actual Wax Museum had been simple, but breaking into Aidan’s office was another thing altogether. I had to get past his protection spells and undo any number of magical warning devices. It was exhausting.

One thing worried me: Noctemus, Aidan’s familiar, was nowhere to be seen. That could be a problem. She might have run off to find Aidan and tattle on us.

But I wanted that ring. From what Shawnelle had told me, I was now certain Johannes had brought it to Aidan two days after Griselda had been killed. Why Aidan would have kept it a secret from me I wasn’t sure, but neither was I all that surprised. Aidan doled out information on a need-to-know basis, with him, of course, the sole arbiter of who needed to know.

What I
did
know was that he had not yet used the ring to banish the demon or his minions. I was sure Aidan thought he had reasons for hesitating . . . or perhaps he was just scared, knowing what the fire demon had done to him last time Aidan tried to go up against him. But I wasn’t willing to wait around. I wanted to make sure Maya didn’t fall any further under Gene’s influence, and I wanted to free my father. And I had made a promise to Zeke to help Clem.

Most of all, I just wanted to banish that overblown Aztec critter before he unleashed disease and bad luck upon this city of which I had grown so fond.

I looked through Aidan’s desk while Sailor concentrated on trying to intuit something or feel magical vibrations. Though the ring was said to be able to hide itself, Sailor was awfully good at this sort of thing.

I was hoping the ring might not be too hard to find. Aidan would want it to be easily accessible in case the demon showed, and, besides, he would think he was thoroughly protected from just about anybody . . . anybody but a witch like me.

I started rifling through Aidan’s collection of witchcraft-related tomes on the wall-to-wall bookshelves, trying not to grow frustrated. If only a ring weren’t so small; it could be anywhere. I looked in the little chamber, Aidan’s cloister, off the main office. It was a tiny, five-sided room studded with magnetic stones, mirrors, and charms set up to encourage fields sympathetic to scrying.

There were amulets and talismans and crystals aplenty, but nary a single ring.

I emerged from the cloister to find Sailor sitting in Aidan’s big leather chair, his feet up on the desk, Noctemus sitting on his shoulders the way she often did with her master.

“Hey, check me out,” said Sailor. “Now I know what it feels like to be Aidan. I guess I should start issuing proclamations or ruining someone’s life.”