Page 37 of Demon's Bluff
Ivy turned, coffee in hand. “Thanks for the heads-up,” she said, clearly unconvinced.
A frustrated red and gold dust spilled from Jenks, and Al glowered.
“Yep.” I turned to the curse in question. It didn’t seem too complex, even if it was one of Newt’s. It was likely already in the collective. All I hadto do was say the words and accept the smut. “On second thought, perhaps I should become the coven’s puppet. I’m sure I’ll have time to keep Cincinnati together between fending off the coven’s attempts at forcing me to give them every last demon secret I know.”
Al cleared his throat, and Ivy numbly sipped her coffee, trying to wake up.
“Or I could go down rabbit hole number three,” I finished.
Jenks flashed an alarmed red and Al’s chin lifted. “Which is more likely than the other two to kill you,” the demon intoned. “If you remember, I was hell-bent on owning you in the past.”
“The past?” Ivy went to top off her mug.
“So I go far enough that you don’t know me. Five years ought to do it.” I took the demon book in hand and dropped it on the counter beside Ivy. She jumped at the loud pop and edged away. I knew she didn’t like that I could do magic, but I wanted her to see this. “I can use Newt’s curse to go back to when the original ever-after still existed and get an Atlantean mirror. Bring it forward, uncurse Brad, expunge my record, stick it to the coven.” I took a breath, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake.
Ivy’s eyes flicked to mine, her hope and pain obvious. “The past? Kisten…”
“Five years,” I said, feeling like a shit-heel. “I’d still be interning at the I.S. Ivy, I can’t—”
“This is academic,” Al said, pulling my attention from Ivy. “The energy needed to return forbids it. Newt developed that curse to test the balance of time and space within the ever-after. She used surface demons as visual markers because they are nothing but the souls of the undead in purgatory. Yes, they moved back and forth through time, but they have no caloric needs.”
“You would be right there, and I won’t be able to help you,” Ivy whispered, and I pulled her into a quick hug. She stumbled, her grace gone.
“Look.” I let her go and turned to the book. “It’s a dark curse, yeah, but only because you are taking energy from someone. If I take my own, spindle it with this curse here…” I flipped through the book, my finger holdingthe place of the original curse. “Store it in the collective. Maybe the vault. No one goes in there. I can use it on the trip home.”
“It’s too dangerous when you can simply move yourself and all that you care about to the ever-after,” Al insisted. “Give everything a chance to pass. There’s no need to risk yourself.”
“There is every need!” I shouted, and anger flashed across him. “I cannotdo that. I will not ask Ivy, and Jenks, and everyone I care about to move to the ever-after, exiled into taking little sips of life when they think they can avoid detection. This is my home. And I’m not leaving it if there is one shred of a chance that doing something bold, and inventive, and yeah, a little dangerous, will allow me to not only stay but make my place more certain.”
Ivy slumped where she stood, Jenks’s wings making an obvious hum until he landed on her shoulder. They both looked miserable, but I was more concerned about Al, his head down and avoiding me.
“Al, you hid for thousands of years, and nothing good came of it,” I pleaded, thinking he looked depressed. “It’s my risk. My decision. But I need help. Please.”
For a moment, I thought he was going to walk out, but then he came closer, jaw set as he nudged me out of the way and he took control of the book. Head down, he silently studied it, his brow furrowing. “Your body will grow younger, but your mind will not,” he said, voice distant as he talked about the curse I’d used to move the lily through time. “You will be limited to taking things with you that existed at your target date, or they will vanish en route.”
“Yes!” I exclaimed, hearing his agreement to help me.
“I would also suggest not twisting the curse in the church. You need someplace hidden that hasn’t changed in five years. The tunnels perhaps? Or Eden Park. There’s a ley line there.”
“Five years!” Jenks exclaimed. “Rachel doesn’t have anything from five years ago. She lost everything when she quit the I.S.”
“My shoulder bag is that old,” I said, my enthusiasm faltering as I saw Ivy’s fear. Jenks, too, was not happy, bobbing up and down in frustration.Finding a place to twist it wasn’t a problem. I could probably find money that was that old. I’d have to make the doppelganger charm when I got there, as I doubted the spell itself or the materials to craft one would survive the trip. My new transposition charm, however, should be okay, seeing as it worked through my mind and my mind would be unchanged. The stone itself was probably older than the sun.
“But the ley lines,” Jenks protested. “You’re using them to run the spell, right? What about when the Goddess destroyed them?”
Panic froze me, but as I looked at Al, I knew there was an answer. He looked reluctant to speak…and my jaw clenched.
“The day the lines went down will not be an issue,” he admitted. “The curse will use the line it originates with until it’s completed, blipping over the span of no-magic.” His gaze turned to me. “You would use the new lines on the way out, and the old ones on the way back. I’m more concerned with finding something to indicate when you need to end the curse to arrive when you want.” Al frowned, his mood bad. “A marker of sorts. Do you have anything that was broken five years ago? If you carry it with you, you can end the traveling curse when it becomes whole and be exactly when you want to be.”
Adrenaline was a heavy wash, but there was nothing to fight, nothing to flee, and I jiggled on my toes. “I can go back in little hops until I get to the time period where I want to be.”
Al’s expression soured. “That is an extremely bad idea. Excuse me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the only one I got,” I snapped.
Al dropped the book and stomped away. “I can do this,” I said, then jumped at the glass-shaking thump when he slammed the door to the porch. “Where are you going?” I shouted, but he never slowed, slogging out into the cold November morning as if on his way to war. “It’s all here. All I need to do is dovetail it together,” I said softly, frustrated and worried.
Until I realized Ivy was scared to death. Then I was just worried.