Chapter 4

 

Today, I meditated. It sounds funny, I know, but sometimes I think best when I'm still, when I close my eyes and listen. There is so much a person can hear when the eyes are gone; the wind, the trees, insects, life. I am anxious, I think, because the energy I am beginning to feel from Demons is beyond painful. I want to find a way to stop it. While meditating, I held a piece of quartz I'd used in a spell earlier in the week to help keep me focused. The corner was too sharp, and I pricked my finger while chanting a protection spell. It did something. I'm not sure what yet, but it definitely did something. I think I've found a way to help myself.

 

~Monroe's Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~

 

 

"What's going on?"

My aunt's voice was shrill as she and a big bosomed raven-haired beauty moved into the room. Belle, my aunt's protégé and a hopeful Pierre de Lune Coven initiate, had been with the Coven only a few months. Belle was a few years older than me, maybe 21 or 22, and she honestly reminded me of a stripper. She dressed as if she worked in Hooters for God’s sake. Though, I guess I would too if I could have been their poster child. I was an easy full size B, but Belle looked surgically enhanced. Her gaze moved easily between the two men before us, and I could swear I saw her lick her lips.

Luther didn't pull any punches, winking quickly at Belle before turning to my aunt. "I'm here for your niece and your daughter."

"The hell you are," Lucas intervened.

My aunt blinked once, her face taking on an expression I knew only too well. She wasn't the head of her Coven for nothing. And she was a witch. She knew a Demon and an Angel when she saw one. It was more than obvious Luther and Lucas were not human.

"Care to explain?" she asked as she motioned at NeeCee.

Bernice started to move around the counter, but I grabbed her hand before she had a chance to move past. Her astonished gaze met mine. Her mother shared the same expression.

"Monroe?" Aunt Clara asked.

I avoided her gaze. "There's danger coming—" I whispered.

"And it's coming for your niece and your daughter," Luther finished for me.

My aunt glanced between us. "What did you do?" my aunt asked, her eyes on Bernice.

I suddenly felt defensive, pulling my cousin behind me as I faced Clara. "We did a spell we thought would help me. Instead, it swapped our powers. Bernice is now connected to Demonic energy, and there are Hellhounds looking for me."

Aunt Clara's face went white. Completely colorless. Belle stepped forward, moving gracefully despite her perky bosomotic (is that even a word) mother load.

"A Coven stands behind its own. We can protect them," Belle said firmly.

She looked so much like Betty Boop it wasn't even funny. I might have taken Marilyn Monroe's name, I might even dress like her the majority of the time, but I definitely lacked the curves. Belle "Betty Boop" Mason did not lack the curves.

Luther looked her up and down, his gaze slow. "How fast can your Coven move?" he asked, his eyes finally meeting hers.

"Excuse me?" she replied.

"If you need an explanation, then you are already too slow. There are Hellhounds being sent to take Ellie Jacobs. To Hell. And if they are not already here, they are close."

"Monroe," I corrected sullenly.

I moved between Lucas and Luther. The two of them weren't fighting anymore. At this point, collaboration was probably best.

There was a low growl outside the store, and I flinched as a foul smell permeated the shop. My aunt came unfrozen.

"The back!" she cried.

Luther shook his head. "Too late for that."

He moved toward the door, his gait calm. At the entrance, he turned, his eyes glowing red. A quick look passed between him and Lucas.

The fallen Angel grabbed Bernice and I by the arm just as Luther flung open the door. The sulfuric smell was suddenly unbearable as the Hellhounds came into view, two large dog-like creatures dominating the scene outside. I wondered briefly if they were invisible to the people on the street. This was New Orleans. The streets were rarely empty.

"Ember," I heard Luther say.

Lucas backed Bernice and I toward Aunt Clara and Belle. The two women were quiet, their eyes on the Demon's back.

"We came for the girl," the Hound in question growled.

"Well, see, that's a hard one," Luther said as he scratched his head absently. "The thing is, I have marked the girl. For now, she belongs to me."

A searing sensation wove its way across my lower back.

"To us," Lucas cut in, his jaw clenched

I grabbed my back. The pain was sharp, intense, and I didn't have my powers or an amulet to keep Luther from messing with me.

"What is it?" I whisper-yelled to Bernice as I lifted my dress up past my hips and panties. Compared to the pain, modesty could shove it! It hurt!

Bernice's eyes widened. "Um, it's a tattoo of a black serpent curled around a thorny rose."

"A freaking tattoo?" I hissed. "Seriously?"

A tramp stamp. Luther had given me a tramp stamp! The Demon was nothing if not dramatic.

A stream of smoke weaved through the room, and everyone but Luther and Lucas coughed. The smell, the density … it was all too much.

"You play a dangerous game, Demon. You are already out of favor with our master," the Hound pointed out.

Luther grasped the door's frame, his stance comfortable. "Aw, you know me, dog. I've always had a thing for gambling."

More smoke filled the room. Luther's words were angering the creature. If someone didn't do something soon, he'd get us killed.

I started whispering under my breath, the spell's concept a simple one. Push the smoke out of the room while weaving a protection spell around the shop's exterior.

I wasn't expecting the explosion.