I quickly finished tracing the Goetia triangle, wrote Farissael in the center followed by his unique sigil, and stood, heart pounding with excitement and fear. I hoped I wasn’t too late. Maybe I should have summoned him last night.
“Where are your gloves?” questioned the raven. “You never go anywhere without them.”
I glanced at my hands and the scars that marred them. I flipped them over, palms facing up, and I could see a faint, darkened line of scar tissue along my left palm where I’d cut myself. I thought I would need stitches, but my grandfather had sealed up the would expertly with a healing spell last night.
“I forgot to put them on,” I said, surprised that it had totally slipped my mind. Now, that was a first.
Though I only had the one glove. Logan had kept the other one.
“And your rings?”
I clenched my jaw. “Vorkol destroyed them. There’s no time to make new ones.” But as my great aunt would say, “A wise dark witch must always have backups.” “I have an extra one somewhere around here. It’s not as powerful, but it will do just fine to fry an old vampire.”
I shook my body, trying to rid it of the sudden tension, and focused as I drew the energy from the circle and triangle.
Please be alive...
“I conjure you, Farissael, demon of the Netherworld to be subject to the will of my soul. I bind you with unbreakable adamantine fetters,” I continued, channeling the magic and letting the power spill into me, “and I deliver you into the black chaos in perdition. I invoke you, Farissael, in the space in front of me!”
I held my breath. Magic pulsed through me in waves, mixed with my adrenaline.
Please be alive...
There was a sudden burst of wind.
And then Faris materialized in the triangle.
My knees shook with relief. He was alive. But as my eyes rolled over him, I cringed at what I saw.
His lip was split and swollen, and bruises and dried blood stained his face. His open shirt revealed a nasty band of bruised skin that ran from his left shoulder to his chest. I’d never seen him look so disheveled. He looked like he’d been banged up by a demon heavyweight.
“Took you long enough,” said the mid-demon, as he tried to gather what little self-respect he had left. He brushed the hair from his eyes. “I was beginning to think you didn’t love me anymore, Sammy,” he added, his voice a little higher than usual.
I let out a breath. “I see they roughed you up a little.”
“Yes, well.” Faris gave me a tight smile. “Nothing I wouldn’t do to them.”
Demons were a strange bunch. “Okay, then.” I dragged my foot over the chalk-drawn triangle. “I release you,” I said, and let go of the energy from the circle and triangle.
There was a sudden influx of power, and then it was gone.
“You’ll be safe here until I can figure out a spell that’ll keep you on our side of the world for a little longer,” I said, stepping out of my circle. If there was one, I would find it. I owed him that much.
“I need a shower,” said the mid-demon. “Can you get decent water pressure in this primordial establishment? I can’t have soap residue in my hair. I’ll look like a peasant.” I felt a pang of guilt when he ran his shaking hand through his hair again in a recognizable sign of stress.
If I did hugs, I might have attempted one on him right now. “Down one floor to the left.” I dropped the chalk on the table next to Poe. “You’ll find towels and just poke around for anything else you might need.”
“Thank you.” Faris walked away. I couldn’t help but wonder at his past, his wife, and how hard that must have been for him. I’d never understand demons. But then again, they weren’t much different from us.
“Where did they find the last murdered witch?” I asked Poe, thinking that if we went looking at the area of his last victim, we might get lucky.
“In Queens,” answered the raven.
“Queens?” I shot the raven a look. “You sure?”
“Yup.”
What was the vampire doing in Queens? My frustration rose. I had to do something, his being out of range or not.
A hand clasped around my heart and squeezed it. “It has to stop. We have to find him. Tonight.” Now that the higher demons were off my back, I had more wiggle room, but I still didn’t know where he was or when he was going to strike next.
“What’s that demon doing in my bathroom!” My grandfather stormed in, his blue bathrobe swaying and a glass of what I guessed was gin in his hand. “I’m not sharing my water with a demon.”
I raised a brow. “I don’t think he’d like it if you went in there with him either,” I added with a smile.
My grandfather’s face darkened. “Are you out of your witching mind! Why on earth would I want to do that?”
I sighed through my nose. This was going to be a long night. “Grandpa. Faris is going to be staying with us for a while. And I need you to be nice to him.” He opened his mouth to protest and I added quickly, “He saved Logan’s life and mine in the fighting pit. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Demon or not, he’s my friend.” I was surprised at how natural the word friend came out, especially referring to a demon. But I knew it to be true.
My grandfather bit back a snort and mumbled something under his breath. He took a swig of his drink. “Friends with demons. That’s like asking a cat to be friends with a mouse.” He made a face. “What’s this world coming to?”
“A better one.” Tension had me wire tight. I had less than nine hours to find the vampire and figure out a spell that could keep Faris on this side of the world before the sun came up.
I looked at my grandfather. “Do you know of a spell that could keep a demon on this side of the planes?” I asked, seeing and ignoring the sudden alarm in his eyes. “For a little while.” When he said nothing I added, “Remember, he saved my life. If he goes back before sunrise, they’ll kill him.”
He took another gulp of his gin and smacked his lips.
I arched a brow. “Fine. I’ll just ask Aunt Evanora—”
“I might know of a spell,” he answered quickly, knowing how much it would kill him if I went to her instead of him. These two had been rivals ever since I could remember. Epic in scale, and worse than two kids refusing to share their toys on the playground.
Poe gave a snort, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Go on.”
The old witch looked up from his gin. “It’s a very complex spell. Only a handful of witches can pull it off. Me, being one. It’ll take days of preparation.”
“You’ve got nine hours.”
My grandfather scowled. “That should be fine.”
I felt a tinge of relief that he was going to help me with Faris, even if a bit grudgingly. I knew I could count on him. “How does the spell work exactly?” I found it curious that I had never heard of it before.
“It’s a binding spell, more or less,” he answered. “It works to tie the demon to this world. To secure the demon and to break the Netherworld’s hold on him. It’s how witches came to have familiars. It took some serious spell work, but over the years, the bond between the two was strong and fed off the witch’s own energy. That helped perpetuate the demon’s resistance to this world, enabling them to stay indefinitely. This spell will work the same way.”