Read The Death of All Things Page 4


  Death jumped back, eyes wide. The wind fell, leaving the world silent and still. Death studied the working. I turned my back on him again and slipped past Big Evan, almost into the house.

  Death of Magics shouted, “Sam! My name is Sam! And your children are in danger!”

  My belly twisted and the baby kicked. Right on my spine. I nearly fell to my knees, but there was no way I was going to appear weak in front of an enemy. I caught myself on the jamb and turned around slowly. “What threatens my family?” I growled—the tone of a mother when her child is endangered.

  Death said, “A demon newly freed from the inner circle of Hell has scented you and your bloodline. Your children have gifts too strong to be contained in mere mortal bodies. They will die at the hands of the demon and it will eat the children’s souls. I know this. I am Death of Magic. But I can save them from the demon’s attack. For a price. A small price.”

  Death of Magic was either a very bad negotiator or he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Or both. But stupid people could be dangerous. Deadly even.

  “Save us for a price? Did you think an earth witch might miss the brimstone on your boots? You set this deception in play to barter for your own needs.” He had said it was his time to rule. He wanted power. I stepped back to the lawn and began to pull the energies of the earth up through the ground. Taking just a fraction-of-a-fraction of life force from every living thing for a hundred miles.

  “Oh shit,” Sally said. “I told you this wasn’t going to work.”

  “Molly,” Evan said, a gentle warning in his tone. “Be careful. His name is Death. What if this is what he wants?” Meaning, what if they wanted me to get mad, lose my temper, and pull on death magics. Right.

  “I’ve got this,” I whispered, thinking, all life. Only life. But I broke out in a sweat, hot and stinking in the night air, straining to hold onto my earth magics and keep the death magics at bay. But … death magics would destroy this threat so easily.

  Sam vaulted into the saddle, watching me across the intervening space.

  “Sam?” Sally warned.

  “Molly?” Evan asked, in nearly the same tone.

  “They need to know we’re not without claws.” I shaped the magic of life into a spear point, a knapped and wicked-sharp weapon. I pulled Evan’s magic behind it, like a shaft, to give it distance and force. And I focused on the being that threatened my children. “Now,” I whispered.

  Big Evan dropped the outer ward. In the same instant I threw the gift of life. It shot through the air. Toward Death. The point pierced Death’s chest.

  Sam fell off his horse.

  Through the hole in the ward, something entered. Something dark and cold and seeking destruction. It saw me. It saw my death magics. It saw my blood. The blood demon spread its claws, a cobra hood expanding around its blacklight face. It snapped the hood closed, opened its mouth, rocketed at me. Aiming for my belly and the child within.

  “Sam!” Sally shouted. “Don’t!”

  “Stop,” Sam said from the ground, a hand out.

  The demon stopped, hanging in midair, a foot from me. I backed slowly up the stairs, and through the inner ward on the house itself. The magics composed of the life force of Evan and me, woven together, slid around me and snapped into place.

  Evan followed. The magics sealed behind him, too, leaving the demon just beyond our door. Evan turned out the inside lights and we fell together, holding each other. I was shaking, sweating a greasy film of fear, sick to my stomach, pressing gently on the baby with both hands. We stood in the dark, Evan’s arms around me, and watched through the windows. I lay my head against my husband. “I messed up,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath of fear. “I just wanted to make him go away. Mess with his pride a little.”

  “I agreed with showing a little power. Get him to back off,” he said. “I didn’t sense the blood demon either.”

  “Sam?” Sally asked, leaning around the yellow horse. “You okay, Sammy Boy?”

  “I’m hurt.”

  “What kind of hurt?” Sally asked.

  “I’m green.”

  “Gre—” Sally interrupted herself as Sam walked around his mount and up to the hedge of thorns. “Shit, Sam.” She pulled a cell phone from her big purse, aimed it, and took a couple of shots of her partner.

  “Stop that!” he yelled at her, just as a toddler might to his nanny. To the house, he shouted, “What have you done to me, witch?” He was still pretty, but now he had green scales, like a snake, and brown hair like dried vines. There were leaves unfurling from his hairline, darker than his scales, and daffodils bloomed from one arm and the right side of his head. Earth magics at work, though the working wasn’t designed to last long. “Make it stop!” he shouted to me, panic in his voice. Yeah. A child. Death of Magic was a grown up child, pampered, spoiled, and not overly bright.

  Sally put away her cell, giving me a glimpse of a silver zippered kit of some kind and what I could have sworn was a hair dryer in the red bag. “Sorry Sam. But it’s part of my job. Your daddy will be pissed.”

  “You tell Death of Flood about this and I’ll rip out your eyeballs.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. We talked about the demon getting free but you said you could hold it. I told you this was a stupid plan to get close to the witch. Can you get the demon back?”

  “No. My gift is…wrong, now.”

  “How wrong?” Her tone went jagged again.

  “When I call the demon nothing happens.”

  “And if you just let it go?” she asked.

  “It’ll kill all the Everhart-Truebloods and steal their magic. And then it’ll come after me.”

  My shaking worsened.

  “Well shit. You really screwed up. Again.”

  Death of Magic stared at the snakelike blood demon hanging in the air. “I… I…”

  Sally shook her head and to the house shouted, “Little problem out here.”

  Little problem. The idiot went to the circles of hell, let lose a blood demon, attacked my house, and set the blood demon on my family. If the demon got free, the result would be even worse than if I had used my death magics—everyone I loved would be dead, their souls sucked into the demon, giving him power. And I still didn’t know what Death wanted. I’d have cried except that the demon whipped his head to me and writhed in the air. Sam, if he ever had control of the demon he had summoned, was about to lose it.

  “Sam…” Sally warned.

  “I—I—I—” He stopped, swallowed.

  My Hubby whistled, the note low and vibrating, like air blowing over a jug. The demon’s motion stuttered to a stop.

  I risked a look around and spotted the children on the sofa, sound asleep. In a seeing working, I followed Evan’s blue magics tying our babies into slumber with a rope of our own gifts. It was hasty but powerful work, their own bourgeoning magics reinforcing the working. Death wanted to use them for some purpose of his own, but if we died, our magics would augment the bindings and the tiny ward around them. The demon could get to them through their blood, but Death could never get to the children now. Half the threat beaten. “Good work. What should we do about flower boy, his nanny, and his demon?”

  “Fear,” Evan said, his lips scarcely moving, his long red beard shaking slightly. “That’s Sally’s job, Sally’s title. For which info you may thank your sisters.”

  I spotted my cell phone in his shirt pocket. “Is it on speaker?”

  Evan whistled a soft note. “Two way speaker now.”

  Cia said from Evan’s pocket, “We’re both here. And we’re on the way, ETA seven minutes. Faster if Liz wasn’t a wuss driver.”

  “Not a wuss. Just want to arrive in one piece on mountain roads,” Liz said.

  Boadicea and Elizabeth Everhart—Cia and Liz—were twins, and excellent researchers of witch oral tradition. The twins were the babies of the family, fearless, gorgeous, and always trying spells they shouldn’t.

  Cia was a moon witch, ne
arly powerless at the young sickle moon; Liz was a stone witch, weak from nearly dying, crushed beneath a boulder in a fight with a demon. “Okay. What can you tell us?” I asked.

  “The Deaths are an obscure legend tied into oral witch history,” Liz said, her voice tinny over the cell. “There was the first death, Death of Eden and his only son, the second Death—Death of Floods. The legends say Death of Floods has seven children: Death of Starvation, Death of Plague, Death of Childbirth, Death of Age, Death of Misfortune, Death of War, and Death of Magic, who hasn’t used his power since the end of the Burning Times.”

  The Burning Times was also called the Roman Catholic Inquisition. So many witches had been killed that our race nearly died out. I stared into the dark and the two standing before the outer ward.

  “The Deaths each rule over a form of human death,” Cia said, “except the Death of Eden and the Death of Floods, both of whom retired after they harvested millions all at once. In Flood’s case, according to oral tradition, only eight people escaped.”

  “Noah, his family, and his animals,” Liz said.

  “So what do we do?” I asked.

  Outside, the demon quivered. What might have been a tail whipped hard, hitting the outer ward. The ward emitted a deep and panicked dong, before Death of Magic got the demon in hand again. At the moment we were fine. But if that thing got lose, this could go bad, fast.

  “I think we have to invite Death of Magic inside the outer ward,” Evan said, “and use his power to help bind the demon. Then we have to kick Death’s ass.”

  I shook my head, not liking that idea at all. But not seeing any alternatives.

  “Do we have time to draw up a contract?” Cia asked.

  “Would a Death honor a contract?” Liz asked.

  “Death can be cheated,” I whispered. “That’s what Angie said.”

  “If a witch cheats on a contract the three-fold repercussions are bad. So instead of a contract, we plan on cheating Death and just fly it,” Evan whispered back, miming throwing a paper airplane.

  “Good by me,” I muttered. Raising my voice, I called out, “Death of Magic, and Fear. If you come in peace, you are welcome inside the outer ward.”

  “We come in peace,” Sally said. “Can I come in and use your powder room? That wind played havoc with my hairdo.”

  “Hairdo?” Cia said. “What century is she from?”

  “The eighties, from the looks of her,” Liz said. “Evan sent us pics.”

  “She has a Hermès bag,” I said.

  “Oh. My new best bud, then.”

  I called back to Fear. “Pee in the woods. We’ll drop the outer ward and you’ll walk in. Leave the horses on the other side. ”

  Fear blew out a breath and pulled hobbles from her bag. She strapped each of the horses’ front legs together, leaving the mounts unable to travel far.

  I contemplated the demon again. It had big teeth, gleaming talons, a long tail and scales, but without the dragon charm. And mad, mad eyes in a shade of burning purple tinged with emerald. There was no bargaining with demons. No negotiation. There was also no way to kill them. They were immortal. We’d bind it back to hell or die trying. Even a Death couldn’t kill a demon.

  Sally and daffodil-blooming-Death stood at the edge of the outer ward, Sam staring at the demon, his brow covered with sweat, his hands trembling. The demon shifted, and a stench of burning sulfur trailed into the air.

  Evan said, “I’ll handle the inner ward. Liz, Cia, when you get here, take over the temporary bindings on the demon. Molly, you figure out how to bind that thing.”

  I nodded, the gesture shaky. My sisters agreed. I heard the hum of a Subaru climbing the hill and caught a flash of car lights through the trees.

  “Offer them tea. Put the kettle on,” Evan said, giving me something to do to keep me from worrying as I tried to figure out how to save us. Busy hands and all that.

  I went to the kitchen and started the electric kettle because it was faster than regular heat on the AGA stove. I heard them still talking as I worked, getting out a teapot filter and a good strong black tea. There would be no nodding off tonight.

  “A tea party,” Liz said, “with Death and Fear and a demon, oh my…”

  “Alice in Wonderland meets the Wizard of Oz,” Cia said.

  Liz said, “Evan, your house wards are sparking.”

  “I see your car,” Evan said.

  As I put tea together, I also gathered necessities from my kitchen: the silver spoon working I kept in the kitchen for emergencies, quickly powering it with the rosemary plant I’d killed and then brought back to life. Long story. But the important thing was that now the plant seemed to be able to store a lot more earth power than it should. And … the solution came to me. I broke off one needle-shaped leaf and tucked it into a pocket. “Thank you,” I murmured to the plant.

  “Getting ready to drop the outer ward, ladies,” Evan said. “You drive straight in. On three. One. Two. Three.”

  I felt the ward fall, the magics lashing back through the ground and through my bones. It stole my breath and froze my chest. The magics twisted and curled into the inner ward, reinforcing it. It was so heavy now, that air and weather wouldn’t pass through. Once I got out of the house, there might be no getting back inside until Evan dropped the ward.

  Putting a hand on my baby bump, I said a protective working over my unborn child. Though I didn’t pray often, I added a prayer to seal the working and then whispered, “Hayyel, I could use some backup on this one.” Angie’s angel didn’t respond. I heard the Subaru rolling into the drive, over the lawn, and up to the door. My sisters had gotten between the unwanted visitors and us. Smart. The car engine died and the doors opened. I forced myself to keep moving, keep thinking, and got out mugs.

  Cia’s voice called out, “I got it. Lasso working is in place on my end.”

  Liz said, “Lasso on my end. We need something stronger for its teeth and claws.” Louder she added, “Hey, Death. Get off your ass and lend a hand here.”

  Cia shouted, “Fear, pull something out of that fancy bag and tie off its tail. It’s getting free.”

  “I don’t do magic,” Sally said. “I do hair and fashion and terror. And Fear of Death.”

  “Well the fashion is seriously out of date,” Cia said. “Big hair hasn’t been around since the eighties and Peg Bundy. If you can’t help, then get the hell out of my way.”

  “Witches. So snarky,” Sally said. But her eyes hinted at her ire and fear. They coiled together on the night wind like asps, stinging. She was attacking us all. I fought the fear she caused and breathed my way through it.

  “Liz, can you pull from the earth?” Cia asked.

  “We can try. But it didn’t work so well last time.”

  I poured water over tea leaves. The aroma of tea rose, soothing. I stirred the leaves with the silver spoon, the stored working moving from spoon to the tea. Softly, Evan said, “Mol? You need to see this.”

  I set the oversized teapot on the tray with mugs, linens, silver, sugar and cream, and carried it to the front. I felt better having done something, even something so simple as tea. I placed the tray on the table near the door and took Evan’s hand. The ward on the house zinged through me, and I realized he had it looping through his own body. It was a dangerous tactic, but it also gave him total control over the energies and the maths of the ward, allowing me in and out more easily than I had feared. It wasn’t something I could do while pregnant without harming my child. I squeezed his hand.

  His voice rumbled in his barrel chest. “You know I’d never let you out of this house if I could do it myself,” he said. “I’m good but I can’t protect the kids, hold the wards, and dispose of a demon that wants your blood.”

  “I know. Of the two jobs, the one you left for me is safer for the kicker.” I patted my belly. “And Cia and Liz and I can work a triangle inside the existing outer circle. What did you want me to see?”

  “Their lasso working.”
r />   I did a small seeing working and focused on the magics they were using to bind the demon. “Ohhh,” I breathed. “It’s tinted with the same shade of energies as the stuff on Sam’s boots.”

  “Yeah. They’ve been messing with something dark. Not enough to coat their souls or tint their auras, but enough to bring them more power than they ever had before. You be careful.” He paused before adding, “I love you to the moon and back.”

  “I love you most of all,” I said. It was a way of saying goodbye. I lay my head on his arm for a moment, took a deep breath, and stood away. Giving him a mug, I picked up the tray, took a steadying breath, and pushed though the ward. The magics coated my body and hair and pulled through me like electric taffy. The energies were attuned to me, and usually walking though wasn’t a problem, but there was so much energy coiling through it now, far more than it was designed to hold. And it all looped through Big Evan, which was the only reason I could get through. Dangerous for my husband, but we’d deal with any repercussions later.

  I opened the back hatch of the Subaru and set the tray down inside. Poured tea into mugs. Carried mugs to each of my sisters, then to Death of Magic, who looked like he needed the entire pot. Sam was shaking with exertion, and drained the mug in a single gulp. I studied the shape and form of his snare working, the incantation holding the demon. It was vastly different from a witch lasso working, but there were enough similarities for me to harness my workings to it. “Stabilize your working and then get out of the way,” I said. “And I’ll need your Tony Lamas.”

  “I’m not giving you my boots.”

  “I’ll buy you another pair, Sammy-pie,” Sally said. She was standing at the back of the Subaru, drinking a cup of tea, one I hadn’t offered her. I gave her a sunny smile, which seemed to startle her. “Just give the little witch what she wants. I have to be back across the veil by dawn. I’m doing one of the Waters’ hair at ten, and I need at least some beauty sleep.”

  “Hope you don’t give her broccoli hair like yours,” Liz snarked.