Читать книгу The Summoner - Alisha Steele - Страница 7

Chapter 4

“You look like shit.”

“Gee, Rosie, you always know just what to say to make a girl feel special.” Alex looked up from the computer screen as Rose strode into the tiny room Alex considered her home away from home. Alex’s glance took in Rose’s floor-length floral skirt—in the most putrid shade of chartreuse—and the threadbare purple sweater—which clashed outrageously with her friend’s curly red hair—and she shook her head in fond amusement. Rose’s comment was a little like the pot and the kettle, but it wouldn’t do her any good to say so.

She’d tried to get Rose to take some care with her appearance. After all, Rose was really quite attractive and only a few years older than Alex. She’d tried to set her up on dates—to no avail. Rose mothered everyone but was, sadly, a mother to no one. She seemed perfectly happy directing all her maternal instincts into her friends. “Plenty of time for that later,” she’d say whenever Alex tried to introduce her to a new beau. “I’m busy enough as it is without having to worry about keeping a man happy too.” But Alex saw the wistful shine in Rose’s eyes when the children ran through the house and the small, sad smile she’d tried to hide when a toddler had grinned at her from his perch atop Daddy’s shoulder while they’d waited in line at the bank, so Alex kept trying to set her friend up, no matter how many times she was rebuffed.

Rose snorted and threaded her way through the disaster Alex called an office to deposit her burden of papers onto an already precariously balanced stack. She turned back to her boss—a title that Rose said held little meaning for her considering the pittance she was paid. But Alex knew that Rose was really here because she believed in the work, and because she had become almost like a big sister to Alex. Rose had been wooed by bigger charities for more money and more prestige. Her organizational skills were renowned in certain circles. But she seemed quite happy at Dovescot.

Right now, however, Rose was wearing an expression of such obvious concern that Alex made an effort to wipe the exhaustion off her face and straightened the sleep-deprived slump of her shoulders. She didn’t want to worry her friend, and she knew she was doing just that; Rose’s “You look like shit,” was just her way of saying so. Alex’s effort proved too much. With a tired sigh, she leaned back in her cracked vinyl chair. Her palms came over her closed eyes to massage her aching eyeballs. She’d been staring at the grant request forms for about three hours, occasionally typing in one or two desultory words only to delete them a few seconds later. She was furious with herself that she couldn’t seem to pull it together. Her work was important. They needed the grant to keep the doors open for another year.

“Well, you know what, babe?” Alex said. “I feel like shit.”

“Spill.” Rose skirted her bum up on the edge of Alex’s desk, accidentally knocking a ream of paper to the floor. Both women made a grab for the paper, but neither was fast enough.

“Just leave it!” Alex snapped. Instantly, a flush of shame heated her cheeks. “God, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been Bitch Queen of the Universe lately.”

“Yeah, you have.” Rose crossed her arms over her ample chest. “So what’s bunched your panties?”

Alex eyed her speculatively. How could she tell her stalwart, down-to-earth friend that she was being haunted by a demon? A gorgeous demon that mocked her from every reflective surface she came across, at that. His growling voice spoke to her from the silver sides of her toaster. His beautiful face mirrored hers in the glass of darkened windows. Hell, this morning he’d grinned at her from the newly spotless paint on her car. That’d teach her to clean anything.

It had been going on for a little less than two weeks now. She’d covered every shiny surface in her house that she could. Too bad she couldn’t make the rest of the world as safe.

Just then, her laptop went into hibernate mode. Because Alex had never bothered to choose a screen saver, Kasdeya’s handsome features immediately formed in the hazy, anti-glared blackness. He pursed a kiss at her. With an impatient curse, Alex slammed the laptop’s lid down. If his constant attention during the day wasn’t bad enough, he visited her dreams every night. She had no idea if it was really him infiltrating her mind or only her own fevered, erotic imaginings, but she wasn’t getting much rest either way.

“Well? C’mon, tell old Rose,” her friend prodded.

Alex realized she’d been just sitting there staring into space as she daydreamed about Kasdeya’s wings, hands and…other things. “I’m not getting much sleep.”

“How come?”

She looked past the redhead out the small dormer window and rubbed her neck in discomfort. She supposed she could tell her friend a bit of the truth, if it’d get her off her back. “I’ve been having these dreams…”

Rose motioned with her hand in the “let’s roll this along” gesture, but Alex didn’t elaborate. She could feel her face turning hot.

“Nightmares?” Rose finally asked.

“Um, not exactly.”

“Then wh—”

Alex shifted in discomfort. Could this be more embarrassing?

Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Ohhh!” She laughed. “That doesn’t seem so terrible.”

“I’m not getting any sleep.”

“Take a sleeping pill.”

And spend more time in the dark man’s arms? Alex shook her head, even though her nipples hardened instantly at the thought. He was a demon—ultimate evil and all that. In fact, she’d Googled him and, according to more than one website, not only was he a demon, he was an upper echelon demon—some kind of big mucky-muck in Hell’s army. In the few sources she’d found, every other demon had a clearly delineated rank and position, but the only definition she’d turned up on Kasdeya was that he’d been one of God’s best guys until he’d started messing around in human affairs and been cast down. Now his job title seemed to be “The Fifth Satan.” While the website hadn’t relayed any more info than that, “The Fifth Satan” just didn’t sound very good. No, lusting after him was not cool. An unpardonable sin, for sure.

Apparently thinking that Alex’s furious head shaking had been at her pill suggestion, Rose asked, “Why not?”

“I, uhh… I don’t really like to use drugs.”

Rose gave her another funny look—Alex sure was racking them up—probably because her friend was remembering the joint they’d shared at that artist’s loft a few months ago.

“I mean pharmaceuticals,” Alex backtracked. “I don’t like to take pills or anything like that.” She smiled weakly. Lame. Really lame.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense.” Rose slipped off the desk and retrieved the papers. “Well, listen. Don’t paint me with a hippie paintbrush, all right? But there’s this cool little shop I go to sometimes for Wiccans and the like.”

Alex’s brows shot up into her hairline and it was Rose’s turn to look embarrassed. “I’m dabbling, what can I say?” she mumbled. “Anyway, the owner, Melynda, carries a lot of homeopathic remedies. Maybe she can help you out.”

Alex felt hope rise for the first time in days. Yes! If a witch couldn’t help her, who could? Why hadn’t she thought of that? Hers was a supernatural problem. She should have been seeking a supernatural solution. “So you’re practicing witchcraft?” she asked Rose.

Rose stood and fussed with the papers, using the act of putting them back as an excuse to tidy Alex’s desk. She was always trying to do that, apparently not understanding that Alex actually worked better when surrounded by chaos. “Nah,” she said. “I’m more interested in the Goddess-Mother aspect. The energy in all living things and how we relate to it…you know.”

Actually, Alex didn’t know, but she was damned sure going to find out.

“But Mel’s the real deal,” Rose continued, oblivious to her friend’s coiled tension. “Spells, séances, tarot—she does ’em all.”

“Spells.” Alex uttered an artificial little laugh that earned her yet another puzzled glance. That had to be a record for strange looks in one day. “Hmph. Still, give me her address and I’ll pop over. I could really use some sleep.”

“Sure.” Rose peeled off a Post-it and scribbled down the address.

“Thanks.” Alex snatched at the little yellow piece of paper, standing up so fast that her chair flew backward and careened into the wall.

Rose’s mouth was a moue of surprise. “You’re going right now?” It was one thirty in the afternoon.

“Yeah, I thought I’d—” Alex’s head fell back into her shoulders and her eyes squeezed shut in annoyance. “Oh shit. The grant!”

Rose laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it. You really must be tired to have forgotten about our funding for the next twelve months. I don’t know why you didn’t just ask me in the first place. You hate the bureaucratic crap.”

“I do, but I was trying to be responsible.”

Rose smirked and shook her head as she slid into Alex’s chair, pulling it up to the computer. “Dumb ass,” she said affectionately.

“That’s Mr. Dumb Ass to you.” Alex leaned over and pecked her friend’s cheek. “Thanks, babe. I owe ya.”

“You always do.”

* * * *

The shop was a tiny hole-in-the-wall sandwiched between a kosher deli and a secondhand clothing store. Alex had driven past it twice before she’d finally clued in that the psychedelic lettering reading “Magik” wasn’t graffiti after all, but the actual name of the place. Why on earth hadn’t Rose jotted down that vital piece of information when she’d given her the address?

Alex circled the block several times looking for a parking spot even remotely close when, like a gift from Heaven, a big blue Buick pulled away from the curb right in front of the deli. “Providence,” she muttered, slipping her black bug into the spot.

When she got out of the car, she smoothed her denim mini-skirt and, for reasons known only to her subconscious, fastened the top two buttons of her cream blouse. She inexplicably felt like a job applicant going to her first interview; the same trembling feeling was weakening her knees. But she bolstered her resolve, flicked her shiny hair over her shoulder and marched up to the door. She needed help and this might be where she could find it. ’Nuff said.

Sound was the first sense stroked as she stepped into the dim, cluttered store and the melodious tinkle of moon chimes greeted her entrance. Smell was next. Alex shut her eyes, inhaling the delicious aroma of rare herbs, old books and rich incense. It brought to mind Kasdeya’s musky cinnamon scent and her eyes snapped open at the reminder of her reason for being here.

Her pupils had expanded enough for her to see the shadowy interior passably well. Alex made some small sound of delight, moving away from the door to run exploratory fingers over the purple crushed velvet covering the display tables, where she spied a lovely mortar and pestle in black marble shot through with veins of red. She’d always wanted a mortar and pestle, though she had no idea of what she might actually grind up with it. They’d just always looked so exotic, so ceremonial to her.

She picked up a silver Celtic cross that easily filled the span of her palm. Alex traced the intricate curves, lost in the elaborate beauty of the ancient design. When her gaze strayed to a scrying mirror hanging on the wall to her right, Kasdeya was in immediate attendance, grinning at her. Alex started so violently at the unexpected vision that the cross slipped from her hand and landed with a heavy thud on the planked floor. She gasped and hurried to pick up the pendant, searching it anxiously for damage.

“No harm done, I’m sure,” said someone with a deep feminine voice from the rear of the shop. “That thing could take a bomb blast and not be hurt.” The crystal curtain separating the retail area from the storage was pushed aside by a long, red-taloned hand.

Mesmerized, Alex watched as the woman stepped through the glittering drape. She was so…unusual looking. Tight dark-auburn ringlets framed a heart-shaped face. Her lips were thin but painted such a striking, deep crimson that they almost seemed to precede her, drawing one’s eyes to the decadent contrast between them and her pale, white skin. Almond eyes sparkled with amusement at Alex’s slack-jawed expression.

But it wasn’t her face—as interesting as it was—that had caused Alex’s jaw to drop. It was her attire. A thick black choker sporting an enormous green, red-flecked stone was at her throat. A dark emerald-green corset cinched her waist to impossibly small measurements and thrust out her bosom. A matching skirt of plush velour fell in intricate pleats to the floor. It split up the length of her thigh as she moved further into the room. Alex was desperate to know where one could acquire such a gorgeous, erotic outfit.

The woman laughed and angled her head in acknowledgment of the admiration in Alex’s eyes. “The name’s Melynda, and the answer to your next question is eBay,” she said. “I shop at a store called Darker Pleasures on eBay. I’ll give you their card. Now what can I do for you today?”

Alex carefully laid the cross down in its nest of purple velvet as she considered her response. How exactly did you ask someone how to get rid of a demon? But first, just in case Rose checked up on her, Alex dutifully inquired about natural remedies for sleeplessness, mentioning her friend’s name in case Rose got a discount for referrals. In response, Alex was given a tea with valerian root and catnip, of all things. She stood at the counter as her purchase was rung up, still having come to no logical way to ease the question into normal conversation.

Melynda saved her the trouble. “So,” she said, handing over Alex’s change before leaning her hip casually against the counter, “wanna cut the crap and tell me what you really came here for?”

Alex tucked her purchase into her purse and then slowly looked back up. Then she figured that if Melynda could be blunt, she could too. “I was wondering if you could give me any information on how to…umm…how to unsummon—”

“Banish,” the dark-haired woman interjected.

“Right. Uh, how to banish a demon.”

Melynda tapped thoughtfully at her lower lip with one two-inch red nail. “What spell did you use to conjure the demon?”

“No spell.” Alex hastened to assure. “At least I don’t think it was a spell. All I said was ‘I summon you.’”

Melynda’s dark brows rose in obvious astonishment. “I summon you,” she repeated. “That’s it? No conjuring circle? No blood? Nothing?”

Alex shrugged. “Nope, nothing else. And now he won’t…”

Her words faded as Melynda raised her finger for silence and slid back through the curtain. She returned a moment later bearing a tome as large as her torso. The smell of antique leather and rotting parchment drifted up from the crackling pages as she rifled through the grimoire. “Summon,” she muttered. “Summon, summon… ‘Summoner.’” She read the passage quickly and then lifted her head to regard Alex with unabashed delight. “Tell me, Miss…”

“Alexandra,” Alex said, not entirely sure why she gave the more formal version of her name.

Melynda grinned at her as she carefully closed the book. “Tell me, Alexandra, are you, by chance, a Summoner?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Did the demon call you by that name?”

“Yes, he—” This time she was interrupted by Melynda’s whoop of glee.

“Holy shit! A Summoner in my shop! There hasn’t been a known Summoner for more than two hundred years.” Melynda hurried around the counter to pump Alex’s hand. “It’s an honor,” she said, all trace of her previously aloof demeanor erased in her excitement. “Who have you nabbed?” Her gaze flicked around the shop as if expecting the demon to appear at any moment. “And where is he? I was under the impression that a demon summoned that way was connected to the Summoner at all times.”

Alex resisted the urge to smack her forehead. So that’s why Kasdeya wouldn’t leave her alone! “He’s not on this plane,” she said, cutting her gaze sideways to the other woman, expecting the explanation to shock her.

Melynda just nodded. “So now you can’t even put your makeup on without him staring back at you, huh?”

Actually, Alex had forgone makeup lately. It just hadn’t seemed worth it. But she nodded anyway at Melynda’s observation, astounded at the depth of knowledge the woman had about her situation. She obviously knew way more about this than Alex herself did.

“Well,” said Melynda, leaning back with her elbows on the counter. “If it were anyone else, I’d send them home with mullein, marjoram, witch grass—you know, the usual. And, of course, the appropriate sigils. But hell, Alexandra…” She tossed back her head and laughed. “You’re the god-damned Summoner. Just pop back into that plane and banish him.”

“But how do I do that? Banish him?”

“Same way you summoned him. Say, ‘I banish you, insert-name-here.’ Who did you say it was?”

Alex hadn’t said. But she saw no harm in assuaging Melynda’s obvious curiosity. “Kasdeya.”

All the blood drained from Melynda’s already white skin, lending her the hue of a corpse. “You’re joking.”

Alex shook her head, puzzled at the woman’s response. “No, his name’s Kasdeya, or so he told me.”

Melynda’s hand rose to her throat. “A lesser demon wouldn’t dare take his name. Punishment would be swift, to say the least, if Kasdeya found out. Jesus, Alexandra, do you know who he is?”

Alex shook her head again, and the dark-haired woman’s eyes took on a wistful, faraway glaze as she caressed the smooth column of her neck. “You’ve raised a high prince of Hell. Practically the Prince of Hell, second only to Satan.” She licked her lips and cocked her head slyly, leaning closer to Alex. “Is he beautiful?”

Alex’s cheeks blazed at the thought of how beautiful he was. “Yes.”

“Mmm-hmm. I thought he would be.” Melynda sighed, staring into space a moment longer, and then straightened. “Hold on one more sec.” She again disappeared into the back, but this time she was gone nearly ten minutes. Alex thought about just leaving; she had the info she needed. But it wasn’t in her nature to be so blatantly rude. And, anyway, she kind of liked Melynda, as odd as she seemed.

“Here,” Melynda huffed, finally coming out with an armload of books. “Do some reading on…well, yourself.” She grinned again. “It might surprise you to know exactly what you’re capable of. Oh, and here’s the card for Darker Pleasures. On the back, I wrote down my cell, work and home numbers.” She was tossing the books into a plain purple bag.

“How much do I owe—”

Melynda shook her head. “Nothing. Just keep in touch, okay? I’d hate to have to explain to my coven how I let a Summoner slip through my fingers.”

Alex said she would stay in contact, although she wasn’t sure that she intended to keep her promise. A coven? What exactly was she getting into?

“Listen,” Melynda said as Alex turned to leave. “Don’t be too hasty about tossing Kasdeya back. Lord knows if you’ll ever be able to reach him again. A prince in the palm, you know?” She sniggered at her unintentional innuendo. “I know I’d like one in my palm,” she said with wicked smirk.

Alex’s cheeks once again flared red, and she silently cursed her fair skin.

Melynda laughed at her obvious discomfort. “Just think about it, Alexandra. That’s my advice.”

“I will,” she said with an embarrassed smile. Not!

* * * *

Alex went to sleep with visions of the gray plane focused firmly in her mind’s eye. She figured it shouldn’t be too hard to reach. She appeared there briefly every night before summoning herself away. Kasdeya’s influence, to be sure.

It seemed that as soon as her lids fell closed, she was there. Alex had worn a demure, white flannel nightgown in preparation for her encounter. Although it was May—much too warm to be wearing flannel—she knew the garment would afford her protection from the cold of the plane, as well as from Kasdeya’s knowing gaze.

The fogged air was oddly silent, the whisperers nowhere to be found. Alex shivered from more than just the chill. Somehow, the murky darkness seemed extra creepy without the familiar voices calling to her, as impossible as that might seem.

“Kas—” She cleared her throat and tried again, going for something more audible than a mumble this time. “Kasdeya?” Her voice was still a whisper, despite this being her second attempt at it.

“Alexandra,” he whispered back, right beside her ear.

“Christ!” There, that was pretty loud. Good for her. Alex whirled around to find him a hairbreadth away. When she tried to retreat, his arms sneaked around her, holding her in place.

“You know,” he growled, lowering his head to nuzzle her neck, “hearing you call another man’s name every time we meet is starting to annoy me.” To punctuate his words, he took her earlobe into his mouth, tightening his teeth around it.

Alex fought the impulse to bare her neck to him, trying to overcome the ripples of delight spreading out from where his tongue was licking away the sting of the bite. Best to just get it over with. “Kasdeya, I bani—”

* * * *

His pulse jumped in alarm. The chit dared try and banish him? He slid his mouth up over her jaw, crushing his lips to hers and effectively stopping the offensive word. It took only a moment for her rigid spine to yield, arching in his arms as he ate at her mouth. His kiss gentled at her surrender and he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the seduction. Alexandra succumbed so sweetly, so completely, murmuring wanton little moans against his lips as his tongue played over hers. And she tasted so damned good. His cock was rock hard, harder than he’d have ever believed possible from one simple kiss.

“Pet,” he sighed, running his hands down her back to cup her tight little ass through the ridiculous night attire. “Don’t banish me. Not yet. You have no idea of the pleasure I plan to give you.” To punctuate his point, he pulled her tighter against him, his rigid length pressing into the flat expanse of her stomach.

Alex opened dazed eyes. “No,” she said. “Stop—”

Kasdeya shook his head and let go of her bottom to swing her up in his arms. He willed them away to the niche he had carved for himself in this prison and laid her down on his bed of black silk. “I am not overly fond of those words either.”