Chapter 23

Boogeyman.Baboulas.TheSack Man. El Coco. There were myths in every culture and language out there about some scary creature or other who was used to frighten unruly children into behaving. No one seemed to agree on what they looked like. Or how their magic worked.

Even what they ate was varied from account to account—but the most common suggestion was, of course, kids.

I took a deep breath, chugged the rest of my orange juice to help bolster my blood sugar, and hoped like hell this boogeyman didn"t have a hankering for a witch dinner. I mean, Zhong and Hasumi hadn"t tried to outright murder me the moment I freed them from the bestiary. But if past experience as any indicator, that still gave me a fifty-fifty chance of attempted murder, since Niamh had tried to shoot me and Aahil had set me on fire.

There wasn"t a lot of objective, factual knowledge about boogeymen. Or boogeywomen? Was that a thing? Boogey people? I steered myself back on track. Putting this off for as long as possible meant more time before I had to risk destroying Elijah. But it also mean that the remaining two creatures—the remaining two people—would remain stuck inside the nasty book for that much longer. I wasn"t going to let my wussy tendencies make someone suffer.

I took one last long look at my notes. I really had no clue what I was doing. Forget the danger from the angry people I freed—it was a miracle I hadn"t managed to kill myself by attempting to mess with the book"s binding spells to begin with. But, I was all we had. Elijah had been right to come to me, and to insist that I fix this by myself. Anyone else would be loathe to part with all the power the book held.

I made my way downstairs, stopping in the kitchen to rinse out my juice glass and leave it in the sink.

"Are you ready?" Elijah slowly misted into existence beside me.

I sighed. "Ready as I"ll ever be, I suppose." I squinted at him. "Are you sure you don"t know anything about this boogeyman thing?"

There was one thing all the notes and legends and stories agreed upon when it came to boogeymen. They were creatures of darkness and shadows. In some strange way, that made them similar to ghosts in my mind. Misty. Ethereal. Able to move around unseen….

Elijah hovered before me, leading the way as we headed out to the back courtyard to summon a boogeyman. "I"m sorry, Andy. I"ve never even met this one. The Lovells who owned the bestiary rarely pulled from Hasumi"s powers. But they used the boogeyman even less. As far as I know, only one Lovell attempted to use the boogeyman"s magic while I was enslaved. It scared them even more than the water weaver."

He glanced back at me, and I lifted an eyebrow. "Let me guess, that one Lovell who tried went splat in some awful and gory manner?"

He huffed a hollow chuckle. "Not quite. They went completely, stark raving mad."

I scoffed. "That doesn"t tell me much. All of my family members were psychotic crazies." Thank fuck I had sworn to never act in any manner my family would have considered "befitting a Lovell." I did everything in my power, every day, to avoid being anything like the people who birthed me.

I entered the courtyard to find the crew all there. Even pissy-ass Aahil. The jinn was awfully concerned about my welfare, for someone who tried so hard not to seem concerned about my welfare.

Elijah paused for a moment, swirling around to face me—as much as a barely visible dead guy could—the glowing blue orbs that made up his eyes pointed at me. "This was something else," he said softly, bringing me back to the conversation about my crazy relative. "Something much worse. It was like he was seeing things no one else could. He lit himself on fire and threw himself off a cliff."

I sighed. The only Lovell to try to use the boogeyman"s power had torched himself and went cliff diving just for good measure. "Of course he did," I muttered. "I wouldn"t want any of this to be easy."

I double checked my summoning circle, the book, and all my assorted herbs and crystals one last time, just to be sure. But everything was just as I"d set it a few minutes ago before I ran back upstairs to check one last textbook. At two of the cardinal points, I arranged the black tourmaline and obsidian we had obtained from the market. The stones would, hopefully, call to the darkness of the creature I was about to set free, and the herbs at the other cardinal point and scattered all around the courtyard would, hopefully, help with grounding and centering so the creature wouldn"t go berserk the moment they landed.

All the crystals and herbs did was amplify the magic I drew from the earth and channel to my will. But I was willing to take every little bit of help I could get. Especially against a being who apparently inspired flamboyant suicide.

"Okay," I said, standing back and wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. "Everyone ready, got your popcorn so you can really enjoy the show?"

Niamh snorted. Elijah silently hovered so close I could feel his misty vapor on my skin. Hasumi was…. Okay, so Hasumi was standing in the decorative birdbath. I doubt anyone had ever even used the thing for its intended purpose until I came along and filled it. I didn"t question the water weaver, though. If they prepared for battle with dark forces by taking a bird bath, who was I to stop them? Zhong had his shoulders back and his jaw set in a hard expression, ready to defend. Aahil just studied his claws with a bored expression. "Any day now, pet. We didn"t all come out here just to watch you stand there looking stupid."

I sighed. "Thanks for insulting my intelligence. That really helps."

He arched one dark brow and looked up. The ruby at my throat flared with heat. "I said you looked stupid," he purred. "Not that you are stupid. I suppose looks can be deceiving." He didn"t sound too convinced that was the case here.

I rolled my eyes.

Turning my back on my companions, I pulled on my earth magic and got to work undoing Granny"s bindings and traps so I could release the boogeyman.

Sweat popped out on my forehead and trickled into my eyes as I struggled under the physical and mental stress of trying to feel my away around and stay one-step ahead of the magic safeties that were built into the bestiary. Of course there wasn"t just one set of spells for the whole book. The Lovell witch who had created this abomination of a prison had woven fail safes into every single creature"s individual binds.

And the ones on the boogeyman were especially strong. It made sense, I suppose. What creature would the bestiary"s owner fear more than the one who was literally made up of fear? I almost botched the whole thing at one point. The mental gymnastics of unweaving the bindings and dodging the traps set for anyone who might be stupid enough to try was a bit like running an obstacle course while someone launched missiles at you in a random pattern. The tail of a particularly nasty boobytrap spell managed to brush my aura and I fell to my knees in a wash of pain and dizziness as the spell ate away at my magic.

I felt a wash of magic—earth, water, fire—and I shook myself free of the spell. Holy shit that had been close. I think the thing was set to drain a person until they died, feeding power back into the bindings on the bestiary. My ancestors did not fuck around. And…I was pretty sure every one of the people behind me had just given a little piece of themselves to bolster me up long enough to pull free.

Even the snippy jinn.

I felt the last of the traps fall away and the bindings loosen as I finally overcame the last of my ancestor"s spells. I had a moment to let out a relieved breath. Then the sky darkened, just a little, like dusk starting to fall. I glanced around the courtyard, waiting for the boogeyman to appear.

Nothing happened.

I thought I sensed a bit of deep, smoky magic. But then it was gone.

We all just stood there, waiting for the shit to hit the fan. After a long pause, I shrugged at the others. "Looks like I got lucky for once in my life." Maybe the boogeyman had done what they all should have done upon being released—maybe he"d just fucked off right on out of here.

My shoulders sagged in relief, and I gathered up the crystals I"d used.

"It"s just…gone?" Niamh said, her sharp green fae hunter eyes darting around the courtyard, still waiting for the attack. "I sense nothing. But this seems too easy."

I shrugged. "Not looking a gift horse in the mouth," I informed her firmly. I was tired. Fighting free of that trap just a few minutes ago had drained me—literally. All I wanted was a nice, long nap.

"What now?" Zhong asked as he came to help me pick up my mess.

I handed him the crystals. He knew where to put them, and I was dead on my feet. I checked my blood sugar on my insulin pump"s display screen and saw that the magic had once again taken its price from my very cells, on top of the effects of the trap. No wonder I was starting to feel all floaty. I scrabbled in my pocket for my little baggie of honey candies and stuffed a few in my mouth. First, I had to sugar myself up. But then I was going to sleep for days.

"Someone check on me in about fifteen minutes or so and make sure I"m not dead," I called out as I headed for the stairs. Something felt off. But then, that was to be expected. Having low blood sugar affected your cognitive function, since your brain wasn"t able to get the energy it needed to function.

I plodded upstairs, checked my blood sugar one last time—still low, but it would take a little while for the sugar I had ingested to hit my bloodstream—then I collapsed face first into bed.

I woke up to more of that darkness outside my bedroom window. It wasn"t actually dark—I had probably only slept a couple of hours—it was just a very dreary day. The steely grey sky cast everything in shadows. It looked like rain was coming. Maybe a good thunderstorm would roll in. I did enjoy the lightning. And the rain might help replenish the water weaver so I could get some more energy off them.

I sat up and tossed off the covers, proudly noting my bright red nail polish and the rings I wore on my fingers. Still all there. Good. A witch was only as strong as the face she showed the world and the magic she controlled. And I was on course to become the most powerful magic worker in an age.

If I wasn"t already there.

I grinned at the five rings, three on my right hand, two on my left. They were all still nearly full of stored power. But I should top them off. I wouldn"t want the other covens or the Alliance to come upon me with less than full strength.

Which reminded me…I needed to look into making more ghosts. I was fairly certain I had discovered a way to use Elijah"s power to control lesser spirits. There were always a few homeless people hanging around the edges of town. No one would miss them. And if I made their deaths suitably horrific it would shock the souls, and the spirits would linger and be more likely to form ghosts. No other Lovell had ever had a ghost army. I whistled a happy tune as I got dressed and pinned my green hair back into a vintage-looking twist. Had to look the part.

And the part I played was absolutely stunning, one of power and old coven prestige. The corset had belonged to my great grandmother. It was imbued with the tears of a dozen dying children and woven from feathers plucked from a mated pair of living ravens. Anyone who tried to lay hands on me would be crippled with grief and overwhelmed with such despair they"d be easy to dispatch.

Checking the rings one last time, I patted my hair and winked at the mirror. I paused. The gray eyes staring back at me through my reflection grew clouded and confused for just a moment. I"d had the strangest thought. For just a second there, I thought my appearance looked wrong somehow. I tilted my head to examine myself from all angles. No, everything was just as it should be. I looked exactly like a high-class, high-magic witch from an elder line.

I left the room and headed downstairs. Then downstairs again. To the laboratory. Removing the protective spells that hid it from prying eyes, I opened the bestiary. I pulled off the red ring on my right hand and placed it into the spell circle that was carved into the table. Then I tapped the book and said the incantation to summon the power of fire.

The jinn appeared in a weak flare of light, then collapsed to his knees. His slender frame shook, from rage or from magical exhaustion—hard to say which. But I was leaning toward it being exhaustion. Surely, he was too broken to experience anything as strong as rage.

"Top up the ring for me," I said evenly.

He looked up at me from under his once shiny mop of ragged black hair, the reddish streaks that had once adorned it faded now to dull brown. Oh. Well, apparently, he was still strong enough to be angry—if only just. It was almost admirable, the way he refused to give up his will, even when he"d been so thoroughly used. "Fuck you, bitch," he ground out, his pretty voice gone all harsh.

I grinned. "Not this time, thank you. Just the magic."

He spat on the ground. He was probably trying to spit at me. Cute. But the pathetic thing wobbled where he knelt on the floor, and his aim was a bit off. I rolled my eyes and touched my magic to the compulsion spell that was woven into his bindings. "Fill the ring."

The little demon"s spine straightened, back arching as his mouth fell open in a silent scream. There. That was better. Glowing red power flowed from him, channeled into the ring on the table for easier use later. You never knew when an enemy coven would come after you. Best to have your weapons easily at hand.

When the ring had absorbed and stored all that it could, I waved a hand at the compelled jinn. "That"s enough for now."

He collapsed as if his strings had been cut, sprawling boneless on the rough stone floor. Oh, darn. I hoped I hadn"t actually killed him. I had planned to use his lust magic to seduce the heir of the Firestone coven on Friday. I walked over and nudged the jinn with the pointy toe of my boot. "Get up."

He didn"t respond.

I crouched and ran a hand over his slender chest, which didn"t seem to be rising and falling anymore. My magic told me what I had feared. The little weakling was dead.

I sighed in exasperation. It would be costly to find another demon to bind to the book. And this one had been an excellent lay, too, when compelled to behave. But, that"s how these things went, I supposed.

I stood, then threw out a hand to steady myself as a sudden wave of dizziness swept through me. I pressed my palm to my chest.

Aahil. His name was Aahil, and I was supposed to save him. I was supposed to be better than this. Better than them.

I shook my head as the odd sensation passed. I was better than the other witches. I was the strongest witch my family had ever birthed. And that was quite an accomplishment, given our esteemed bloodline. I had my parents to avenge. I didn"t have time for silly sentiment over a broken tool.

But something inside me split. I felt it tear. Felt myself become a watcher—a helpless prisoner in my own mind, witness not only to the physical motions of my body, but to my thoughts and feelings as well.

I struggled ineffectively, unable to stop that other me as we calmly set Aahil"s body on fire, burning him to ash in an instant using magic. Witch fire probably wouldn"t have had much effect on him, if he was still alive. But now the jinn was just flesh and bone. And then he was ash. He burned just fine.

Pity, the other me thought as I suffocated with the urge to scream, that I had to use up part of the power I gained from him just to dispose of the corpse.

Then I flipped the page and summoned the gargoyle. Hopefully this one was a bit more durable.