Page 25 of A Date With Demons

As we watch from the window, several cars appear in the driveway, delivering a host of witches. A couple of them arrive more dramatically by teleportation, their urgent magic crackling around them in smoke and lightning.

“I think we’d better shift,” I say to Rewd, who grunts in agreement.

We shift into human form and quickly don the torn and discarded sweatpants and shorts, just as a herd of footsteps mount the creaking staircase to the attic. Mercifully, Rewd’s shift goes easier and quicker this time.

Moments later, the attic is filled with witches. We are introduced to Maple, Birdie, Zena, Adele, Sirena, Amaryllis, and Portia’s father, Hollis. He and Maple both waver between confusion and outrage about their daughter entertaining demons. I can’t say I blame them.

Esther nods, obviously surprised to see us looking like humans.

“Right,” Esther says, twirling a knife in the air with no hands, “Who are we fighting?”

“Put that away, dear,” Maple says, shaking her head.

Hollis clears his throat, eyeing Rewd and me suspiciously. “Maybe not yet,” he says.

Rewd and I exchange a look, neither of us sure who we’re about to fight.

“Everyone? This is Bragg and Rewd. I’m very sorry, but I was bored and lonely. I summoned a succubus for my date last night, and I ended up with two of them. They were supposed to drain my life force, but it didn’t happen! I don’t want to send them back to hell for all eternity, and I need your help.” She says itall in one breath, her shoulders releasing tension. “Mom, Dad, I’m really sorry I messed with black magic, but on the plus side? They took excellent care of me.”

Esther backs up this story. The witches all huddle, and we wait with Portia, still clutching the grimoire.

Maple and Hollis stand to the side, discussing things under their breath. I overhear comments about Portia being a grown witch who can make her own decisions. A discussion about the complexities of grown children living at home and house rules.

Finally, the huddle breaks up and Birdie clears her throat.

“The fact is, all of us witches have dabbled with succubi from time to time. It’s sort of an open secret,” she says.

Maple and Hollis look horrified, and Birdie raises her hand in a calming gesture. “I know it comes as a shock, but you two weren’t raised in the practice. You are young and relatively new to the family. It was only a matter of time. Honestly, it’s an unspoken rite of passage.”

Birdie turns to us and looks us up and down. “Now, what to do with you two, and what to do about the consequences of you staying in our dimension. That’s another matter.”

Portia, meanwhile, is perched at her spellwork table, thumbing through the grimoire.

“I think all we need to do is cast a protection spell to fill the void,” she says.

“Baby, do you realize how much magic that will take?” Maple asks.

Birdie clucks, as if offended. “That’s why we’re here. All we can do is try.”

Esther looks us over and pipes up. “That is, if you two actually intend to live here peacefully, and take care of our Portia.” Her knife spins in the air threateningly.

“Not only will we do all of that, but we’ll help you fight whatever evil hell tries to unleash because of our leaving.”

“If you do fight on our side,” Birdie says, “We’ll make sure the community doesn’t cast you out. But you have a long road ahead to prove yourselves.”

A standoff follows as we all study each other, and each side is unsure if the other one is telling the truth.

Portia shivers as the wind sweeps in through the open window. Rewd and I go to either side of her and share our warmth with her fragile human body.

“We don’t have much time,” Portia says.

The assembly of witches gather at the window and raise their magical weapons — wands, staffs, or simply their hands. Hollis and Maple join them, clearly still feeling conflicted. And what parents wouldn’t, having been awakened by this situation at 6 a.m., the morning after Halloween. Honestly, they both still reek of bonfire and mind-altering magic.

Portia reads a spell in Latin from Magda’s grimoire. The room crackles with magic as the witches repeat it. The air buzzes. The wind rushes.

“Do you think she can do it?” Rewd asks.

I nod.