Solving the Vampire Murders

twenty-two

A chalk circle was drawn. A mixture of salt and ash and what Torren hoped was baking powder but feared might be bone shavings had been sprinkled over the line.

The size of the circle necessary for daemon summoning required a hasty rearrangement of Jones' living room. Her coffee table and ottoman had been set atop the couch like precariously placed jenga blocks.

Then the dusty drapes were drawn. Long white tapers lit. 

Torren's bare feet sank into the soggy green carpeting. The excess water had been an unforeseen side effect of Zach's unruly spell casting.

Torren would never forget the way water shot from his hands and feet like a fire hose--windmilling his arms and flutter kicking his legs while spraying Austin and Torren and Jones in sharp bursts.

It would have been comical had the whole room not been on fire.

Compass points were marked on the circle with rough-hewn crystals that Jones had retrieved from a faded leather box atop her dining hutch. Stowed away with turn of the century china and other things she most certainly never used.

Jones cleared the space of negative energy by burning dried sage and sprigs of lavender. Although it was part of the ritual, Torren couldn't help but wonder how sage smoke would clear this particular room of bad vibes. Austin had been made to sit on the kitchen floor under threat of magical binding after the stunt he had pulled with the flaming knife. 

"Alright," Jones announced, slamming the massive leather book shut. "I think we're all set to take our places at the compass points."

Zach was studying the torn piece of notebook paper Jones had given him like it was written in Latin. Because, well—it was. "I'm not sure I can pronounce this stuff. I think you should just do the talking."

Jones was shaking her head. "I can't do everything. You and Austin have to do the casting so I can work the blood magic. Call me crazy, but I don't trust sparky over here with a knife."

Blood magic. Torren tried and failed to swallow the knot in his throat. His blood, Jones had explained. They would need the magic in his blood to call Mazia.

She is bound to me.

No. She's bound to the magic of the Seer.

It made the night they had spent wrapped in each other that much more confusing. Had Mazia really meant anything she said?

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts, Zach. All you need to do is say the summoning words."

Zach looked thoroughly unconvinced. He had removed his cracked glasses and was studying the paper, muttering under his breath and sweating through his clean t-shirt.

Austin let out a chuckle. "You are quite the daemon yourself, Jones. You know, next time you get your hair done, you should have them turn these red." Austin spun one of Jones' long plaits around his finger. "Then everyone would know just how fierce you are, honey."

Jones snatched his wrist, then extricated her braid from around his finger. "Never—and I mean never—touch a black woman's hair."

"My bad." Austin raised his hands in the air. "I had no idea it was so faux pas."

"Let's just say—if you do it again, I'll charm one of my braids into a viper. Then watch it snatch that grin off your face, honey."

Austin cocked his head to the side. Smiling like a jackal. "Wouldn't be the first time a snake got away from me."