BITTER MAGIC Demon Trappers Series Book 9 THREE After a few hours’ nap, Katia made her way to the trapping office, and then promptly volunteered to help Riley with her apprentices during their trip into Demon Central. For Katia, it was always fun to watch her boss in training mode. From what she’d heard, both of Riley’s parents had been teachers so she was hardwired for this. “Grade Three Hellspawn, especially Gastro-Fiends, are totally disgusting,” her master said. “They will rip you up in a heartbeat if you’re not paying attention. If you doubt me, both Katia and I have some scars to show you.” The apprentices, Tim and Mickey, were riveted on what their master was saying, not blowing her off like some might. Always a good thing when the Hellspawn you were trapping could make a meal of you in minutes. Katia really liked these guys, though they were nothing alike. Tim wore black, round-rimmed glasses and was anything but athletic. Mickey could have been playing pro football for a living. And yet the two of them riffed off each other like they’d been friends for years. Sort of like her and Simon. Thinking of him always made her smile, which meant she wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings. “Any special tips, Journeyman?” Riley asked. Of course, her boss had noticed that Katia had spaced off. “The things have one track minds—food is what they live for. Doesn’t matter what it is, if they think they can eat it they’ll give it a chomp. The trick is not to be their next meal. They don’t seem to be that bright, but they’re devious and that gives them an edge.” The two apprentices nodded, then each looked around as if a Three was about to pounce on them. “Let’s see if we can scare up one of these monsters. You two will watch as Katia and I trap it. Next time around we’ll have one of you give it a go,” Riley explained. “It’ll be fun,” Katia added, just for devilment. “Yeah, fun,” Tim said, eyeing the scars on her arms. In the past she’d hidden them, but not now. As Riley had said, the marks were something to be proud of. It’d just taken her a while to realize that. They went at least three blocks into the center of Atlanta and didn’t see one Gastro-Fiend. A rat scurried by, then another, each intent on its own ratty business. “If the rodents are doing their thing, there isn’t a Three nearby,” Riley said, shaking her head. “Master Jackson said there’s been fewer demons in the last couple of days,” Tim said. “Looks like he’s right.” A strange pop came from the alley they’d just passed, followed by an unearthly chuckle. “What was that?” Mickey asked, looking around. Katia had heard that sound before. It’d been in an apartment building where she and Simon had exorcised a fiend out of a bestselling author. She gave Riley a look. “That sounded a lot like a Big Mouth.” Her master’s eyes widened. “You sure?” The eerie chuckle came again, this time louder. “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” Riley immediately sobered. “Okay, change of plans. If Katia is right, this is a new Grade Four demon, so not at all something you want to tackle. The National Guild is still working on the official name for the monster because it’s just so freakin’ strange.” “I’ll check it out. Maybe I’m wrong,” Katia offered, making her way into the alley. Behind her Riley began moving her apprentices out of harm’s way. The scar on her arm twitched. Then a Hellspawn slowly trundled her way. “Oh, shit,” she said under her breath. “It’s a Big Mouth,” she called out. “And it’s about to start cloning itself.” “You think it’s a trap?” Riley asked, at her side now. That was a good question. “Maybe.” No matter how you looked at it, Lucifer’s latest creation was just bizarre even by his Hellish standards. Taller than Katia, well over six feet, it really did resemble a big lime green beach ball with spindly flamingo-style legs. Then there were the tentacles, three on each side, which had flesh-ripping teeth along their entire length. At least its eyes were amber, not the fiery red like most demons. It was as if the Prince had been really bored one day and decided to create a new Hellspawn based on whatever spare parts he had left over. The bizzarro result was the abomination waddling down the alley toward them. “What the . . . ?” Mickey exclaimed. The demon kept moving closer, its mouth widening as its body started to glow an unearthly red. The thing was about to reproduce. Katia extracted a Holy Water sphere, then gave Riley a quick look. “Toss and run?” “No,” her master said, shaking her head. “I’ve got an idea.” She grabbed onto the sphere and trotted back to where Mickey stood, and then whispered something to him. The apprentice grinned. “You got it!” he said, adjusting the sphere in his hands. He took a few steps forward, almost even with Katia now, then tossed that sphere at the fiend in an impressive overhead arc. “No way,” she murmured. As he had no doubt planned, the sphere dipped down just at the right moment, then ploughed directly into the fiend’s huge mouth. A crunch, a choking sound, and then before Katia could yell a warning there was a muted explosion. The last time this happened the sphere triggered the same response and had fountained bits of demon all over a building’s lobby. And Katia. This time something contained all that, a clear bubble that seemed to glow from within. It took a moment to realize that her very talented boss had created the magical equivalent of a snow globe. Except now the interior of that globe quickly became obscured with severed tentacles, stringy pieces of gnarled fiend, and whatever gawd awful stuff lived inside that beast. Katia swallowed, twice, to keep from hurling. The magical bubble slowly shrank as the interior’s contents flamed and turned to ash. Then it vanished and the ashes landed on the alley’s grimy pavement in a neat little mound. “That was damned impressive,” Katia said as she shot a thumbs-up at Mickey. “Dude! Wow!” “I agree,” Riley said, grinning. Then she turned back to her apprentices. “This is the second one of these things we’ve seen so far. We haven’t figured out a way to trap them yet. That may not be possible, like with the Geo-Fiends.” “So that’s all it does?” Mickey asked. As Riley explained the birthing process, how it cloned small ravenous versions of itself in a matter of minutes, Katia wandered down the alley. The ashes were all they had to prove there’d been a demon, so collecting a trapping fee wasn’t going to happen. Still, it’d been a great learning experience for the newbies and no one had gotten hurt. “Ah, that was cool and all that, but what if you’re not with us when one of those obscenities shows up?” Tim quizzed. As the master explained the “slam dunk” method, Katia noticed movement further down the alley. A familiar figure stepped out of the dingy brick wall; a figure that could only be described as otherworldly. The first time she’d seen her was at the TrapperCon convention. The Lady, as Katia called her, had brilliant red hair adorned with green ferns and alabaster skin. She was Katia’s height and of slight build. Now she looked weathered, the ferns dying, her face no longer pure white but a sickly gray. As if she’d been ill. “Are you okay?” Katia asked, stepping forward. The Lady hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth as if to say something, then shook her head. A few seconds later she vanished into the wall beyond. Since the others were engaged in a lively discussion of alternative tactics to take down a Big Mouth, Katia made her way along the narrow passage to examine where The Lady had entered and exited. Both were solid brick walls. And yet on the ground between them was a single fern. As she watched, it rapidly wilted, then turned to dust. She is real. ※※※ The Vatican didn’t consider skills with a bladed weapon important for an exorcist, but Simon had quickly learned otherwise. Often he found himself up against some incredibly lethal Hellspawn, so anything that evened his chances of survival were vital. He figured if Rome’s Demon Hunters used melee weapons, so would he. He’d fought with a sword before, had even killed an Archfiend, but he knew he needed to up his game. The last few days’ private training sessions had shown him just how much more he needed to learn. Now, despite a long hot shower and the over-the-counter pain meds, he still ached. Given the intense workout he’d received, this was expected. The other thing he’d learned was the dojo had an instructor who was proficient with a bō, a staff used in Japanese martial arts training. And that the instructor had a class tonight. For the second time today Simon entered the training center. To him, it smelled of hope and sweat. As he walked through the building he passed a Tai Chi class in one of the rooms, slowly shifting positions in concert with their instructor. More hunting brought him to the room where the bōjitsu class was just beginning. With a nod toward the instructor, he took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall. Then shifted around until he found a way for his sword arm not to cramp. The class lasted for an hour and at no time was Simon bored. This martial art fascinated him because it was something that Katia loved. He only knew about that because Riley had told him that the trapper’s birthday was coming up, and then she’d sent him a video of Katia working out with her staff. It’d been filmed while she was still in Kansas, well before events had taken so much of a toll. Back then she’d looked healthy, not skinny like now, her hair shoulder length. Katia had mentioned that she’d had to pawn some of her belongings so she’d have money for food and a place to stay. Since it hadn’t come on the bus with her from Lawrence, he bet the bō was history. But maybe he could change that. As Simon observed the class he’d learned a few things: Not only could the weapon be lethal, but Katia was more advanced than these intermediate level students. Yet another surprise. After the class ended and all the students had cleared out, he made his way to the instructor. She was putting away the practice staves. She was an Asian lady, probably in her forties, and had an intensity about her that reminded him of Katia. “Excuse me. I have a few questions about using a bō. Do you have some time right now?” The instructor smiled. “I do have time. I’m Himari. And you are Simon from Atlanta. I heard you did well in sword practice today.” He groaned, gingerly moving his right arm, and trying not to wince when it complained. “I think I overdid it.” “We all do that from time to time. It’s how we learn. What do you want to know about the bō?” He pulled out his phone and showed her the picture of Katia with her staff. “My friend had to sell hers because of, well, some financial problems. I want to buy her one just like it. Is that possible?” Himari studied the image. “Yes, it is possible. Is she a new student or does she have some experience?” “I’ll show you.” Simon cued up the video while sincerely hoping Katia wouldn’t mind him sharing it. Then tried not to fidget as he waited for the instructor’s verdict. Himari watched the video, twice, then nodded. “This young woman is skilled. She has spent many hours in training.” Did Katia know how good she was? Maybe not. “Are there ones that are shorter? Katia’s a demon trapper, so carrying around a long staff isn’t always an option.” The instructor handed back his phone. “Let’s go to the weapons room and I’ll show you what your choices might be.” “That would be great. Thank you.” A short time later, Simon had been shown all the various options, along with a spirited demonstration of each by the instructor. The lady was very good, and he resisted asking just how many years she’d been perfecting her skills. “Trappers sometimes use a steel pipe to stop a demon.” He pointed at an expandable metal staff. “Do you think that would be strong enough?” “It can be, depending on which type of Hellspawn,” the instructor replied, giving the bō a test spin. “Some do not like these because they feel the balance is off. Yet I know a trapper in Chicago who uses one. He says he likes it better than a steel pipe. More versatile in terms of attack points.” Which made sense. If you could drop a demon to its knees or on the ground, you gained the upper hand. “But it is also more flexible and that can be an issue. It all depends on who is wielding it.” He had no doubt Katia would work around any limitations. “Okay, then I’d like one of those.” “Which color?” “Ah, blue.” Katia loved that color and the accents on the pipe would make it stand out. “And I’d like to have one of the traditional wooden ones, too.” The instructor raised an eyebrow. “This must be a very good friend of yours.” The trapper from Kansas was more than a friend, Simon knew that now. It was one of the revelations he’d had during his retreat. “Katia has saved my life more than once. I’ll never be able to repay her, no matter the cost.” “Then you are a trapper, too?” “Yes.” Among other things. “Ah, but perhaps it is your friendship that is the repayment, not the material items?” the woman asked. It was an incredibly insightful comment, and Simon took it to heart. “Perhaps you are right.” “How tall is she? That matters in terms of the length of the staff.” “Almost as tall as I am. The top of her head reaches my nose.” With a knowing nod Himari took him to the dojo’s office. To his relief they had both staves in stock, so he paid for them, repeatedly thanked her, and then headed back to his hotel room with his purchases in hand. Later that evening, sitting up in bed with a cold pack on his sword arm, he couldn’t stop smiling. He might still be tired and sore, but he had just found two great birthday presents, ones Katia would never expect. Now he couldn’t wait to get home. ※※※ Once again, Katia found herself at the cemetery to watch over the still-deceased Albert Means. No one had called in sick this time, but there wasn’t a line of folks eager to tangle with a necro after last night’s adventure. So here she was because she needed the money. If the necro showed up he was in for one helluva tough time because Riley was sitting vigil with her. Her master had also insisted that Katia would get the entire vigil fee. “We might get lucky and nail this sucker,” her boss said, grinning. Or not. The cemetery looked no different than the night before, though fresh flowers had appeared on a nearby grave. When Katia paused in front of it, she realized one of her feet was resting on the grave itself. She stepped back immediately. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” As if the dead could hear her. It was a Breman family thing—you didn’t walk on a grave. This one had a vase buried partway in the recently disturbed soil. There was a bouquet of yellow roses inside, though the petals were already beginning to droop. “Anna Lee Lanier,” she murmured, reading the temporary placard that announced the deceased’s particulars. A check of dates of birth and death said she’d barely made her twenty-eighth birthday and had died three weeks earlier. “You can’t see them, but the roses are beautiful. Someone misses you very much.” A faint breeze blew across her face now, as if in acknowledgement. Katia headed off toward Means’ grave, eager to catch up with Riley. The current grave sitter was a young man, probably in his late twenties. He had a pale complexion, wavy dark hair, and glasses. Then he sneezed, twice. “You have a cold?” Riley asked. He nodded. “I should have been here yesterday afternoon, but I was too sick.” He gave Katia a long look. “You were on the news today.” “Yeah, I bet I was.” The guy quickly stashed his empty juice bottle into a ratty khaki backpack, then rose. Reciting the phrase that allowed them to cross the protective border, he gave the grave one last look and then headed across the cemetery grounds without another word. “What a cheery dude,” Katia mumbled. It took them a few minutes to get their gear set up, then they reset the circle because Riley wanted to enlarge it. Katia let her go for it because it certainly wasn’t her that wielded magic in this duo. Once the Holy Water and candles were placed and the new circle glowing away, Katia relaxed. The night was nice, she was earning money, and Riley was always full of interesting stories. They laid the tarp on the ground, then rolled out the sleeping bags. Once she was parked on hers, an unsolicited package came her way, one that contained strawberry Pop-Tarts, of all things. “It’s tradition, sort of,” Riley explained. “Simon loves them, so we shared his supply when we sat vigil for my dad.” She knew that Simon had a fondness for those things, but there was a lot more in that explanation than just a memory. Maybe now was the time to find out just what had happened between them. “He said you two dated for a while.” “Yeah, we were just starting out and it was going really good and then, well, Hell messed us up,” Riley admitted, her voice sad now. “Part of me is bummed it happened that way, but the other part knows that’s why Den and I are together now. Simon’s okay with how it all fell out. Well, at least once he stopped feeling so guilty about it.” “He still does a little, I think.” A nod returned. “Our exorcist carries a lot of guilt. He’s getting better. You know, I actually cheered the first time I heard him swear.” Katia laughed. “He mumbles ‘damn’ every now and then, and I've heard him use the ‘f’ word once. I’m a very bad influence.” “Good for you. Simon always needed to loosen up. He’s a much cooler person now.” Riley eyed her. “He seems more at ease. Well, except for all the silly tree and squirrel pictures.” Katia had a theory about that. “Any chance he’s just sending those to mess with our heads? Is that possible?” Riley opened her own Pop-Tart, then hesitated before she took a bite. “You know, that makes sense. The old Simon—no way. I think the new one has some mischief in him. You don’t see it very often, but it’s there.” “Hmm. Maybe one of these days he’ll start wearing something other than those boring white shirts. He looks like he time-traveled here from the 1950s.” Riley laughed. “He does!” “Simon works out and has some serious muscles. He doesn’t show them off, but they’re there.” “Noticed that, did you?” “I did,” Katia admitted. “He’s damned handsome. But you can’t tell him I said that. It’d embarrass him.” And me. “I won’t. Oh, Den mentioned something about going to a new BBQ place. Mama Z’s is still his fave, but he says it never hurts to try something new. You and Simon could come with us, give my husband all sorts of grief about how Southern barbeque just isn’t like the Midwestern kind.” Katia grinned, liking that idea. “That works for me.” She finished her Pop-Tart before rearranging herself on the sleeping bag. “I’m not used to this. The joking around, you know? My parents pretty much shut me out when my brother got hurt, and then my job sucked after my first master died. It was damned grim there for a while.” “And now you’re in with a bunch of oddball Southerners who shout a lot and make fun of each other.” Riley smiled back at her. “You’re doing just fine, Journeyman Breman. Don’t let anyone say you’re not.” She paused and then asked, “Did you get the notice about the Guild meeting?” Katia gave a nod. “Good. You’ll get to meet some of the others. Sadly, not all are house-trained.” She snorted. “That bad?” “A few are seriously not good with females in the Guild. They gave me a megaton of crap when I was an apprentice, even when my dad was alive. There’s more of us now so they’ve just had to suck it up. You’ll hear lots of bitching and some smart-assed remarks. Ignore it unless they cross a line or get too lewd. Then nail them.” She eyed her. “Unlike your last Guild, here you have backup.” “Still getting used to that,” she admitted. “I had backup, you get backup. That’s the way it goes here.” They fell quiet after that. Riley began texting with her spouse, so Katia did some research on the occupant of the new grave. Anna Lee Lanier. Born 1991 Died 2019. Then she found the newspaper article. “She was murdered!” Katia blurted. At Riley’s puzzled look, she pointed toward the grave in the distance. “The lady down there. I found a news article. Her husband was arrested. He says he’s innocent.” “Man, that sucks. I wonder if he really did it.” “Isn’t that what Alex wants to do—call up the dead to find out what really happened to them?” “It is. That might be even harder for him now after what happened last night. Mort managed to keep his name out of the news, but summoners gossip like anyone else.” “So, he’s toast just because of that lying necro?” “Who knows? If we can get Alex free of this other nonsense maybe we can track down her killer. At least if her husband didn’t do it.” He would not hurt me. The voice was so quiet Katia almost didn’t hear it. She glanced around but saw no one. Riley was texting again and didn’t act as if she’d heard anything odd, so Katia shrugged it off and closed the news article on her phone. She was just going to freak herself out if she kept this up. After her master finished her conversation, she laid down on top of her sleeping bag, wished Katia a good night, and curled up. She made it look so easy. Katia eventually stretched out on her own sleeping bag, staring up at the stars. They weren’t as bright here, too much light pollution even in a cemetery. As she drifted off, she swore she heard that voice again, though what it was saying was so quiet she couldn’t hear all the words. Not knowing what else to do, Katia whispered, “Rest in peace.” Not yet. Not yet. Chapter Four
Where to Purchase BITTER MAGIC Bitter Magic Demon Trappers® Series Book 9 Copyright ©2024 Jana Oliver Angel Wing Graphic used with permission of Macmillan Children’s Books Cover image courtesy of JoY Author Designs All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means now known or hereinafter invented, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. Demon Trappers is a Registered Trademark of Jana G. Oliver Comments are closed.
|
Jana Oliveris an international & multi award-winning author in various genres including young adult, urban fantasy and paranormal romance. Archives
September 2024
Categories
All
|