Chapter 4

Since comingto Earth five years ago during my failed mission, losing my wings and my sword, and getting stuck here, things hadn't gone my way.

But lately, it was getting worse.

I had gone to the fight club that night, secured a fight for three in the morning, won, and got more money. The next day, Mr. Green called me to say he was glad I would be fighting more.

I wasn't.

Then on Wednesday, I visited Sylvie to get my potion. After she handed it to me and I paid, she looked at me with huge eyes full of pity.

"I'm afraid my supplier couldn't find more Mage Bloom," she said. It was like a punch to the gut. "He said he'll keep trying, but it might be another two weeks, maybe three." She paused. "Or more. He really can't be sure."

This wouldn't work. The potion I had bought would last five days comfortably, maybe eight days if I took smaller doses. But when I did that, the Seraphim came to Houston, right at my tail.

How long would it take them to find me this way?

No, I had to do something else.

An idea sparked in my mind, but it was crazy. I went back to my apartment and slept on it. Next morning, I woke up, went for a run, showered, had my breakfast, and that crazy idea was still the only one I had.

Without a choice, I packed my duffel bag with a couple of changes of clothes, toiletries and whatnot, and hopped in my car. If this worked, I wouldn't need Mr. Green anymore. If it didn't, I would be back before Friday night and ready for another fight.

It took me five and a half hours to drive to New Orleans. I arrived in the city in the middle of the afternoon and went directly to the Midnight Cauldron in the French Quarter.

The place was still the same: a square room that I bet would look big without all the knickknacks crowding, but with the many tables and shelves displaying all the fake products—and some not so fake—the place felt tight and almost suffocating. As I walked to the back, I noticed a basketful of voodoo dolls to my right, and wishing bones in a jar to my left … was that real frog legs? I shuddered. Yeah, definitely this kind of magic wasn't for me.

The owner stood behind a counter in the back, ringing up a couple who had a bagful of her goods.

I waited at a good distance until she was done with them. As soon as they walked away, she turned to me. "Good afternoon, child. How have you been?"

A wide smile stretched over her face, the pearl white of her teeth in contrast with the darkness of her skin. Khalisa played the part of the witchdoctor well, with locks on her long black hair, and dresses that reminded me of old barmaids in pirate movies. She wore a lot of jewelry around her wrists, neck, and ears, which clanked with each of her movements.

Once upon a time, Khalisa had been a Wildthorn witch. For some reason, she had left her coven and learned voodoo magic. She still had contact with her old coven, and several other covens in North America.

The last time I had seen Khalisa had been several months back, when I was searching for Molraz and following the trail of a demon group who had dealt with him before. I had brought another angel here, Zadkiel, who I had believed had been dead long ago. He had escaped from the underworld and was looking for a demon.

As usual, Khalisa knew it all. If she didn't, then she found someone who did.

And that was why I was here.

"Not so well," I confessed. There was no reason to lie to the witchdoctor. She always remained as neutral as she could in the supernatural world, and she helped anyone who came to her.

Her smile faltered. "What happened, child?"

A lot. In the last year alone, I had been captured and tortured by warlocks who wanted to steal my power. When I was rescued, I helped my newfound friends fight them. Then I had helped a wolf shifter pack search for a damn dragon and defeat a former prince of the underworld—and lost my magic in the process.

And now I couldn't help anyone anymore.

"Too much," was all I said. I didn't want to go down memory lane and bring back so many bad feelings and thoughts. "But I had an idea to reverse my situation and I was hoping you could help me."

She narrowed her eyes. "Tell me."

"I've met this wish demon, Leviathan. I need him to grant me a wish, but his prices are too high. I know there are powerful summoning and trapping spells … I was wondering if you knew one so I could summon the demon and trap him in a witch's circle, or something."

A knot formed between Khalisa's brows. "And then?"

"Then I'll make my wish, and he'll need to grant it, because the price will be his freedom. Can you do that?"

"No." She shook her head vehemently, and my shoulders deflated. "That's dark magic. I don't deal in that. We would need a dark witch for that or a light witch who can perform dark magic."

I perked up a little. "Are you saying this is doable? That you know someone who can do this?"

"We'll see." She picked up her cell phone from under the counter and pressed a couple of buttons. "Hello, child," she said to the phone after someone picked up. "I was wondering if we could meet this evening. Either here or at the Light Castle." She paused as the person on the other side spoke. "No, nothing urgent, but my guest might not want to wait too long." Another pause. "All right, my child. We'll be here." She put down the phone.

"What just happened?" I asked.

Khalisa smiled at me. "The dark witch is coming."

* * *

The dark witchwasn't coming for a while. I went for a walk around the French Quarter and bought some beignets. It was impossible to come here and not eat some.

I hadn't been to New Orleans a lot, but each time I came, I had been shocked by how many supernaturals roamed around the French Quarter as if they were humans—and I couldn't even sense them all.

Supposedly, the supernatural community in the entire world was negligible compared to humans, but in places like this, I wondered if that was really true.

When I went back to the Midnight Cauldron, I helped Khalisa sort some inventory. Boxes of fake voodoo dolls, bead bracelets, and skeleton keychains had arrived and they needed to be entered in the ledger. I told the witchdoctor about using a computer and software and internet for this, and she dismissed me.

"I'm old, child, older than you think," she said. "I'll die doing things the old way."

Thankfully, it worked. As I busied myself, the time passed.

And then at closing time, a young woman and a man entered the shop.

"There you are," Khalisa said to them. "It's good to see you."

"You too," the young woman said.

Khalisa locked the front door and flipped the open sign to closed, then gestured to me. "This is Ariella, a fallen angel." I winced at the introduction. "Ariella, this is Hazel, Queen of the Lightgrove Coven, and Sean, the Head of the Light Order."

My eyes widened. Oh, I had heard of them. Apparently, Hazel had become queen in December, and some of my friends had attended the coronation.

Hazel was pretty with blond hair and pink streaks, a few piercings, and blue eyes. She wore a gown that somehow mixed the old and new styles and looked amazing on her. Beside her, Sean was handsome with chestnut brown hair and blue eyes. He looked regal in a white leather uniform and a sword at his waist.

"Nice to meet you, Queen Hazel. Sean." I didn't know if I should bow or what.

Hazel offered me a smile. "Hazel is fine. Now, tell me, you needed my help. With what?"

I told her what I had told Khalisa, but I went further this time. "Five years ago, I came to Earth for a mission with my colleagues. A higher demon called Molraz ambushed us. He killed everyone, and he would have killed me, but I was able to escape, though not before he destroyed my sword and ripped my wings off." I could still feel that horrible pain and agony. I thought I would die right then. "I want to find the demon and my wings."

Sean frowned. "To get revenge?"

"I want my wings back. Without them, I can't go back to Elysium."

"Can't you contact them at least?" Hazel asked.

I shook my head. "I've lost my magic."

Hazel's eyes widened. "What?"

"When I was helping the Nightshade pack defeat Paimon, he stole my magic."

"You're going to ask Leviathan to grant your magic back?" Sean asked.

I shook my head. "He said he can't grant that, but he can find my wings. And that's better than nothing."

"Right." Hazel nodded. "Once you have your wings, you can go back to Elysium. There, you can explain what happened and they will know how to restore your magic?"

I didn't think restoring magic was in their know-how.

I couldn't simply go back there. Not if I wanted to keep my head and neck attached to my shoulders.

I had a lot to do first.

"Right," I lied. "Can you help me?"

Hazel looked at Sean. Something passed between them, a nonverbal communication and understanding, and they both nodded at the same time.

"It's a difficult spell, but I can try," Hazel said. I let out a long, relieved breath. She glanced at Khalisa. "Can we use the basement?"

"Of course, child." She walked past a curtain of beads over a doorway and led us to the back room, where I had worked on the inventory.

One of the doors to the side opened to narrow stairs leading down. Khalisa turned on the lights and was the first down. We followed her into the basement: a large open area, with lots of stuff along the walls—old books and furniture, folded boxes, boxes full of what looked like clothes, and more.

Khalisa went to a broken desk in the corner, opened the drawer, and grabbed black chalk. She handed it to Hazel.

"Thank you," Hazel said.

She knelt on the floor and drew a large, black witch circle. It had three interconnected rings, and several runes and symbols between the rings. Lastly, she drew a large five-pointed star that reached the outer ring, and Khalisa placed lit black candles where the star and the circle converged.

She handed a small pouch to Hazel, and she spread a silvery powder around the circle.

Meanwhile, I had to refrain from pacing or biting my nails.

This was a lot of preparation to summon a damn demon.

Hazel turned to me. "Now, the last part." She gestured for my hand. I laid my hand on top of hers. "I need a few drops of your blood." She produced a small dagger out of nowhere. "May I?"

I nodded.

She pricked my finger with the blade's tip. I clenched my jaw, waiting for the pain, but it was fast and faint. She turned my hand down and let the drops fall in the circle.

"Say his name," she told me.

"Leviathan," I said, firm. Strong.

Then, Hazel closed her eyes, lifted her arms in front of her, and chanted in Latin.

A sudden rush of air whipped around us and the candles flickered. The silvery powder on the floor glittered, and the black circle lines shone dark.

The wind blew stronger and Hazel's voice grew louder.

"He's fighting me," she said through gritted teeth.

Sean put a hand on her shoulder. "Borrow my energy."

"No." She shrugged him away. "I need hers." She closed her hand around my wrist and squeezed hard.

I opened my mouth to tell her she just needed to ask, but her grip tightened more and I felt it, my energy transferring from me to her and into the circle.

The wind whipped around us, almost toppling us over.

Thunder echoed through the ceiling and I looked up, eyes wide.

"It's her power," Sean told me.

The flash of lightning cut across the air above our heads and then a dozen bolts struck the circle, shaking the floor. Dark smoke rose from the ground, covering most of the circle and the basement.

With a deep gasp, Hazel let go of my wrist and fell to her knees.

"Hazel!" Sean knelt beside her.

"I'm fine," she rasped.

Good, then the next important question: "Did it work?"

"I think so … but something felt wrong."

A shudder rolled through my body.

The smoke dissipated, revealing a figure in the center.

At least seven feet tall and wide as a bear, the figure stood in the circle, his skin pale and his muscles pulsating with his hard, enraged breathing. His arms turned black from the elbow down and his hands were long, sharp claws. He wore black slacks, which were ripped from his thick thighs to his ankle and didn't really go with the rest of the picture.

Large bat-like wings spread behind his back, as much as they could inside the circle. Sharp hooks like claws curled at the top of the wings.

Leathery horns curled around his head. His black hair was longer, down to the middle of his back, and his eyes had turned completely black—and stared straight at me.

The demon was here.