The Problem With Black Magic (12 page)

She turned back to look at Sam in another row, who appeared to
be engrossed in a paperback history book, oblivious to anything else.

Cassie took a deep breath, then another;
whatever that nightmare had been, she was pretty sure Sam had nothing to do with it. In fact, she was pretty sure it didn’t have much to with demons at all, leaving her confused. She wanted to ask Serenus about it later, but she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that it was none of his business; that this had been a vision for her alone.

That is, assuming her overactive imagination hadn’t simply fabricated the whole thing.
When the familiar tingling in her back started up again, she shivered, remembering the Eyed Ones words.

Something was torn from you;
You should feel its absence….

Shifting in her seat, she made a decision not to worry about it for
at least the next 48 hours; whatever it was, she was pretty sure it wasn’t going to help her out in court. If she could emerge from court in one piece, then she’d decide whether or not to share the contents of her strange dream with anyone else. She had a vague idea what the Eyed One and the Mouthed One might have been, but she was content to push them both to the back of her mind for the time being.

Finally calm, she turned to Jay
in the window seat next to her.

“Did I miss anything?” she asked, surprised to notice that his game system sat in his lap, untouched.

He flicked his eyes to her momentarily, then back to the window. “You have to see this.”

She leaned over him towards the window, glad she was sitting next to him; this would be awkward with anyone else.

She must have been asleep longer than she thought, because they were coming into La Guardia airport. The lights from Manhattan shone like thousands of jewels, reflected over the water of the harbor. A city girl all her life, not easily dazzled by urban grandeur, even she felt a shudder of excitement go through her at the sight. For once, that icy-hot surge in her belly was from pleasure, not fear.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said quietly, to which Jay nodded. They had both lived in a decent sized city all their lives, yet as far as this sight was concerned, they may as well have been country bumpkins; nothing prepared you for flying into New York City over the ocean on a clear, moonlit night.

Over the intercom, the pilot told them that the local temperature was 57 degrees, making Cassie glad she’d had the foresight to bring her denim jacket, and wished them a pleasant evening in New York.
Yeah, we’ll see about that
, she thought crossly.

When they landed, the other first-class passengers went to get their luggage in the overhead compartments, which Cassie’s group had all skipped; only staying two nights, they had all
only brought carry-on luggage.

“So, where to for dinner?”
said Khalil, tossing his book bag over his shoulder as they made their way down the passenger boarding bridge ahead of the other passengers.

“Check-in is at the hotel; I’m sure they have food there,” said Sam.

Khalil turned to walk backwards, facing Sam. “Really? We’re in the culinary capital of the United States, and you want to eat hotel food tonight?”

Sam shrugged. “What does it matter? Food is food.”

Khalil made a horrified face like Sam had just admitted to eating babies. “As a dedicated Food Network viewer, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

“
Actually, we have time,” said Serenus, checking his watch. “It’s dinnertime now, and most of the other guests won’t show up for check in at the Regencia until at least nine or ten p.m. If everyone wants to take advantage of this opportunity for some fine dining, I have no objections.”

Khalil fist-pumped.
“I knew there was a reason the professor was my favorite customer!”

“You hate customers,” snapped Dwight.

“Well, yeah, except Professor Zeitbloom. That was the point I was making, see?”

When they reached the terminal, Khalil motioned for them all to surround him in a football-style huddle
by the waiting room. “Okay, so which Michelin-starred restaurant are we going to go for: Le Bernardin? Le Cirque? Per Se?”

“We could go to the Hard Rock Café,” Jay said excitedly. The group exchanged glances and made a mutual, unspoken agreement n
ot to respond to that particular suggestion.

“Whichever one of those has dessert,” said
Cassie. Nightmares tended to leave her craving sugar, and she was learning that was especially true for the supernatural kind.

Khalil clicked his tongue at her. “Silly Cassie, you don’t only have dessert at the restaurant. After the las
t course, you go to a specialty bakery--“

“No,” Sam snapped.
“One restaurant. We don’t have all night.”

“Oh, Sam,” Khalil chided.
“All work and no play makes you a dull Hellspawn.”

Khalil and Serenus batted the names of several restaurants back and forth, most with French names, and seemed to finally settle on something. Cassie didn’t recognize the name of their choice, nor did she particularly care; food was the last thing on her mind.

Serenus
led them all outside, where he expertly hailed two cabs. Cassie ended up in the car with Khalil, Dwight, and Mike, and it didn’t take long before the abundance of colorful marquees made it clear that they’d reached the theater district.

“Quick, everyone, look for the poster for
Cats
! I wanna see
Cats
!” said Khalil.

“
I don’t think that’s playing anymore,” said Dwight, trying to get a look at the scenery while Khalil hogged the window.

“
Whaaaaaaaat? I finally get to New York, and there’s no
Cats
? This blows.”

Mike looked up from playing a game on his
phone to scowl at Khalil. “Why would you want to see that? My parents said it wasn’t good, the story doesn’t even make sense.”

“Hot Broadway actresses.
Cat suits. Do I need to do the math for you, Boy Genius?”

Cassie tuned out their banter, enjoying the sights out the cab window. The streets were packed with people in all manner of dress. Some were decked out in fashionable outfits that made her feel self-conscious in h
er sweat-soaked T-shirt and denim jacket, while others were dressed in grungy jeans and little else. The lights from the theater marquees, electronic advertisements, and video screens all blended together, making the whole area look like an immense party room lit by a giant disco ball.

Even from the cab, she could sense the air crackling with energy, and for once, there was nothing magical about it
-- it was pure, human excitement. It was the feeling of the most exciting city in the world on a Friday night when anything was possible.

She could have happily ridden in the cab for hours, taking in the sights of Manhattan from her safe little cocoon, but they seemed to reach the restaurant in a manner of minutes. When she swung her door open, a man in an expensive
- looking suit took her hand and guided her onto a red carpet.

Cassie gulped.
Red carpet? How expensive is this place exactly?

The restaurant had minimalist décor, with
soft red lighting that barely illuminated the white tablecloths. Tiny black candles at each table provided just enough light for the patrons to read their menus. A few well-dressed people stood before the wooden hostess podium, which was manned by an absolutely gorgeous blond woman in a dark red evening gown. Cassie had heard that a lot of the hostesses and waitresses in New York were aspiring models and actresses, and it certainly looked like this woman aspired to fame.

While Jay and Mike stared at the hostess with appreciative
eyes, Khalil pushed through the small crowd and made his way to the podium. “Hi, Latif, party of seven. How long is the wait?”

The hostess looked at him for a moment a
s though baffled by the question. “Err, do you have a reservation?”

“No, that’s why I’m asking how long the wait is.”

The hostess haughtily drew herself up to her full height. “Sir, our waiting list is currently over six months long. I’m afraid we will be unable to serve you this evening.” She gave him a smile that was oozing with self-satisfaction, perhaps thinking how quaint it was that this poor little man in a Metallica t-shirt thought he could dine at her restaurant.

Khalil just looked
at her for a moment. “Six months?”

At that,
Serenus gently brushed Khalil aside. “Good evening, I apologize for not calling ahead. However, is Donatello Arrigio’s table occupied this evening? If not, we’ll take it.”

There was a pause while the hostess processed his words. Then, her
perfectly made-up blue eyes widened practically to the size of teacups. “I-I don’t believe that table is taken, sir. Please give me a moment to confirm.” She turned to the phone behind her and picked up the handle, sneaking a worried glance behind her like she was afraid to take her eyes off of Serenus.

In a manner of seconds, she had hung up the phone and turned around, fixing them with a dazzling, though thoroughly forced, smile. “
It seems Mr. Arrigio’s table is available. Please follow me.” She moved away from the podium slightly too quickly, shaky in her high heels, as though she were trying to get the frightening task of seating them over with as soon as possible.

She led them to separate area behind the kitchen with a single
long table, situated under an old-fashioned golden chandelier. Clearly, it was some kind of VIP room.

“
What up with this?” asked Mike when the hostess had brought them water, assured them they would be dining shortly and bolted. “Is there a private table for demons in all fancy restaurants or something?”

“Not all of them,” said
Serenus, tucking his napkin into his collar. “But a lot of the high-end restaurants have demonic backing. How else do you think they get away with charging $150 for a piece of raw fish, some sliced vegetables and truffle foam?”

Khalil drummed his cutlery on the table slowly
, looking dejected. “So the demons have got their claws all over the fine dining world. I’ll never be able to watch Top Chef again; it’s powered by evil.”

“Do you think there’s a reality show anywhere that isn’t?” said Sam, leaning back in his chair.

Khalil snorted. “You don’t know that, you’re just being an elitist snob as usual.”

“Can’t it be both?

At that, several waiters entered with their first course; apparently, VIPs didn’t wait more than a minute for their food. A small plate with a small brownish lump Cassie didn’t recognize, surrounded by pea-sized black pearls, was placed in front of her.

A
vested waiter with a monocle stood at the head of the table, wringing his hands together in obvious discomfort. Cassie doubted that the wait staff knew that this table was specifically reserved for demons and their entourages, but they clearly had some inkling that the guests who sat here were dangerous. They probably assumed they were affiliated with the mob.

“Ah, what you have before you
is a lightly seared goose foie gras, served with black pepper and sea salt, accompanied by some Beluga caviar from the Caspian Sea. Please enjoy,” he said, his lightly French-accented English adding to the ambiance.

When the waiter had left, Cassie crossed her arms in protest. “I’m not eating it. I read how they make
foie gras, and it’s disgusting.”

Next to her,
Mike cut into his foie gras with gusto; it was obvious he’d had it before. “Since when are you a vegetarian? You eat hamburgers all the time.”

“I’m not a vegetarian, but I draw the line at where they torture the animals. It’s inhumane.”

“Says the girl who probably isn’t human,” said Mike around a mouthful of goose liver.

Cassie nearly jumped out of
her seat. “Hey!”

Mike swallowed and met her eyes. “No offense, but all these demons
are on you like white on rice for a reason.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean-
-Sam! Tell this moron that I am so human!”

“Honestly, I have no idea what the hell you are, Cassie,” Sam said quietly from the head of the table.

She sat back in her chair and glared at him. “Thanks so much for your support,
Master
,” she said acidly.

A waiter ducked in and laid the glass of white wine
Serenus had requested in front of him, only to disappear just as quickly. Serenus picked up his wine like a socialite, extending his pinky finger.

“Actually, based on my knowledge not as a demon, but as a biologist, I believe the
most likely explanation for our current situation is that Cassie is completely human.”

Cassie raised her hand. “Professor
Zeitbloom is also my favorite customer.”

“How do you figure that?” said Sam with interest. Cassie noted that he was also
completely ignoring his foie gras.

The professor took a sip of his wine before answering. “I remember once reading about a case-
-“

“Oh, God.”
Sam groaned.

“Shush, it’s not a long story. Anyway, a few years ago two Caucasian parents produced a child with Asian features. Understandably, the father wanted a paternity test. The test confirmed that the child was his, meaning they had no explanation for the Asian features.

“Some genealogy experts took an interest in the case, and went through the genetic history of both parents. They found evidence that on one side of the family, there was a Chinese ancestor dozens of generations previous. So the child was manifesting features from someone who had been dead for over a thousand years.”

There was silence at the table for a moment while everyone processed this information. Khalil spoke first.

“I don’t understand how this relates to Cassie. Are you saying there’s something inhuman in her background, but it’s so far back-“

“No, quite the opposite.
Not often, but occasionally, you get a genetic echo. Someone who manifests traits from someone very far back in their lineage. Supposedly, thousands of years ago, humans had much stronger latent magic than they do now. Cassie is merely a throwback to that time.”

“You can’t prove this,” said Sam, looking dubious.

Serenus shrugged. “No, but Occam’s Razor tells me it’s most likely the truth.”

Cassie pushed her plate away, her head spinning.
Serenus’ explanation made sense, but Khalil’s assumption wasn’t wrong either; the professor’s theory also allowed for the possibility that there was something non-human in her background. Yesterday, she would have been more convinced of Serenus’ explanation, but after encountering The Eyed One and The Mouthed One….

At that moment, the waiters entered with the second course. The
French head waiter, sweat beading on his bald head, described the dish for them.

“Before you
is a leg of game rabbit wrapped in Hobbs Shore Bacon, seated on a bed of golden polenta and chestnuts. There is also a salad of arugula, selected fall greens, and a brown butter gastrique. Bon Appetite.”

There was silence as they all began eating their second course, which was perhaps the most divine tasting thing Cassie had ever eaten. She gave a moment of thought to how the game rabbits were treated, then decided she was too hungry to consider the life story of all her food at the moment. At least she’d taken a stand on the
foie gras.

“
Mmmmmmmmmm,” said Khalil, throwing his head back while he chewed. “This is freakin’ fantastic. This is why I didn’t want to go to the hotel yet.”

“So I take it you’re warming up to the benefits of being part of a demon’s entourage?” said
Serenus in a gently mocking tone.

Khalil seemed to consider that while he chewed another massive bite of his rabbit. After swallowing, he said.
“Yeah. I mean, no joke, this is pretty sweet. I guess I was just a little spooked at first because I didn’t know what the deal with demons was.”

“Perfectly understandable,” said Sam, taking a sip of his water.

“I mean, at first I was afraid we were all going to have to be Sam’s hypnotized love slaves or whatever.”

There was a choking
sound as Sam spit his water out all over the table.

“Excuse me?!” he said when he’d recovered his voice.

“Oh come on man, you know we were all thinking it. I’m just the first one who went there.”

“I’d just like to state for the record tha
t we were NOT all thinking that,” said Dwight.

“
Tsk,” said Serenus. “You think just because he’s a demon, he suddenly has no taste, no standards? That’s offensive.”

Khalil put down his silverware with a clunk. “You know what’s offensive? When the guy working next to you can like, bl
ow your face off with his mind--“

Sam began rubbing his eyes
.

“-
-or turn you into a frog, and he never bothers to mention it. Like a ‘hey, just so you know, next time you leave all the dirty, disgusting dishes in the sanitizer for me to clean, I can rip out your soul and put it in a jar’, that would have been nice. That warning would not have gone unappreciated.”

“Who would even want your soul?” Sam exclaimed, red in the face.

Jay, as incapable of reading a room as ever, jumped at the mention of souls. “Hey Sam, do souls really exist? Can you see them? What does mine look like?”

“Your soul looks like it should shut up and eat its damned rabbit.”

“Can you really hypnotize people? Because I think that would be a useful power,” said Mike, to Cassie’s surprise. She expected Jay to pepper Sam with questions, but she realized that the entire group, save Serenus, was dying with curiosity over what Sam could do; they’d just been afraid to broach the subject.