Chapter Thirteen

M y aunt had said the spell would work best at night, so I finally surrendered to my fatigue, taking a nap in my aunt’s bed while Des played his game on the sofa. It felt like I’d only slept a few hours, but Ethyl informed me that I’d been sleeping all day when she finally shook me awake. Though I was too nervous to eat, I forced down a few slices of bread and some olives and cheese. Ethyl was nervous, too. Frederica still hadn’t returned from the Tribunal.

“She’s probably still spying for the Insurgi,” I tried to reassure her.

Ethyl shook her head. “Serena has been avoiding my questions.” She bit down on her knuckles, her eyes misting. “I think she’s in trouble.”

I gave her a hug while rubbing her back, for I knew the worried feeling all too well.

We pulled apart when Serena came into the room, dressed in leather pants with all kinds of blades and wands strapped to her vest. Holy hex! She was dressed for war. The realization of what we were about to undertake churned my gut.

She summoned two Insurgi to create a pentagram circle made of salt on the slate floor beside her bed. Once the pentagram was complete, we sat inside the circle, a large cauldron beside us while Des and Ethyl remained at the table.

“Do you have another bra like the one you lost?” my aunt asked.

I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest. “I only have one other bra.”

Serena held out a hand, an expectant look in her eyes as she waggled her fingers. “Let me have it.”

“You want me to go braless?” I cupped my poor boobs.

She looked at me as if she was scolding a child. “You want the spell to work, don’t you? We have to offer the dryads something similar to appease them.”

Holy hex! I was about to go braless, something I hadn’t done since before nursing, possibly before puberty. My girls and I had long ago come to an understanding: I provide them shelter and support, and they don’t bounce off my chest. I reached under my shirt and unclasped my bra, reluctantly handing it to her, then said a silent farewell to my bra when she tossed it into the cauldron.

“Now, I want you to imagine the bra you left behind,” she said. “What color was it?”

I looked longingly at the cauldron, still wishing I could have my other bra back. “Black.”

She stirred the cauldron as if it was soup, and I was shocked to see steam rising from it when it had been empty just moments ago. “Give me more details.”

“36D with lace trim and no underwire.”

“Comfort and style.” She flashed a wide smile. “Nice.”

And probably infested with succubi cooties by now. And now that Gus had shut down my bakery, I couldn’t afford to replace it. My girls would be forced to go through life with no warmth and shelter while stretching toward my knees in protest.

Serena held a dropper over the cauldron, and when the liquid hit the bottom, I gave a start at a moan that came from inside. Then she whistled to Puffy. He hovered over the cauldron, puffing with all his might until a spark flew from his mouth and hit the steam.

“Good boy,” Serena said, patting the top of his head.

She tossed in a shimmery, blue-green scale, and what looked to be a petrified flower. “Now I want you to have a clear visual of your bra in your head and repeat this spell...” she said to me.

‘A pixie’s tear

A dragon’s fire

Give to me what I desire

A siren’s scale

A flower’s frost

Lead me to which I have lost’

I repeated her spell while also praying it wouldn’t get too cold today, lest my traitorous nipples alert everyone that they were free and unhinged.

“Now whisper ‘ regresio’ three times and imagine your bra and where you left it,” Serena added.

I whispered, “ Regresio , regresio , regresio ,” surprised when my wand extended to its full length, the tip lighting up like a beacon before casting a glow onto the nearby wall like a flashlight. Much to my shock and horror, a translucent woman who was at least eight feet tall materialized in the light. Though she appeared to have been a spirit of some sort, she had skin that looked like tree bark, flowers growing out of her arms, and long vines for hair.

“What in hex is that?” I blurted.

My aunt stood, holding a hand down to me. “It’s the dryad who lives in your wand.”

“There’s a dryad in my wand?” Why had I never heard that before? I looked down at what was once a shiny lipstick container, but somehow the spell had activated its true form, an eighteen-inch elderberry and bristlecone wand that had a crimson sheen.

“Of course.” She motioned to the apparition. “She will lead you to your bra.”

I jutted my wand toward the dryad, watching as her spirit wavered like smoke. “I’m just supposed to follow her to a demon’s nest?”

“Yes.” Serena smiled as two dozen of the freaking scariest striga I’d ever seen came into the room, all dressed in black leather mercenary gear like my aunt and standing at attention like well-trained soldiers. Some were witches, some shifters and vampires, and there were a handful of minotaurs. All of them called my aunt Generale Sagredo.

Bile rose into my throat. This was real. We were going to kill demons. Holy troll turds! “And my son?”

Ethyl stood, clenching her hands by her sides. “I’ll watch him.”

I looked at my best friend as she tried to control her trembling limbs, and though I knew she’d give her life for my son, I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t leave him. What if I died fighting the succubi? Ethyl couldn’t protect Des forever, and I certainly didn’t trust Colin to keep him safe. Besides, Des needed me to buy him socks without seams, to count the olives on his pizza, and to take him to a quiet place when his sensory disorder was overloaded. No one else loved him like I did.

“I’m sorry, no.” My shoulders fell as I gave Serena an apologetic look. “I can’t leave Des.”

“Luciella, this is our one chance at bringing down the succubi who killed your parents.” She motioned toward Des. “Who threaten your lives.”

I shook my head. “And if I die, Des will be without a mother, just like I was.”

She clasped my arm, her stare unwavering. “You can risk your life now, or you will surely die at the hands of the succubi later.” She motioned toward her army of mercenaries. “My striga have been training for a battle for years. I will assign two of our best mages to guard you, and I will protect you with my own life if I have to.” Urgency enhanced her words as she gave me a pleading look. “We just need you to lead us to the nest.”

Fudging, flipping, flaming siren syphilis!

Curse Serena for being right. A tremor rolled through me. This was our one chance to kill the succubi, to possibly save Ric and stop the demons from hurting us again, and to enact vengeance for my parents’ deaths.

I had to do this. I had to leave my son. My world felt like it had slipped out beneath me, my soul falling into the abyss. If I died...If I left him...

Tears clouded my vision, and I bit down on my knuckles, forcing myself to look away. Be brave, Luci. Be brave.

I had no idea what force of magic fueled my movements as I held my wand away from me like it was a lit sparkler and went to my son. The dryad followed alongside me as if she was my shadow.

My heart hit my gut when he took off his headphones and blinked up at me. “What is it, Mama?”

I knelt beside him, taking his hand in mine. “I have to go, baby.” I swallowed back my emotion while doing my best not to cry. “Auntie Ethyl is going to watch you until I come back.”

He shrugged. “Okay, Mama.”

I managed to kiss his cheek and give him a sideways hug before he had his headphones back on and was focused on his wizarding game. It was best this way, wasn’t it? Leaving him without an emotional goodbye. That would only upset him and make him worry. But there was no reason to worry. I was coming back to my son. I refused to leave him like my parents left me. I turned to Ethyl, and she threw herself against me with a sob, squeezing me tight.

I kissed her cheek. “Guard him with your life.”

She pulled away, wiping her eyes and drawing a pentagram across her heart. “I will.”

“Thank you,” I said to her, my eyes misting, “not just for watching Des, but for being my best friend.”

She wiped her pale blue eyes and silently nodded. “You were always there for me. I’m just returning the favor.”

After hugging my cousin once more, I looked at my aunt, who stood in front of her stony-eyed striga mercenaries.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I blurted, which probably wasn’t the right kind of pep talk for striga that were marching into a demon’s den.

My aunt motioned to the apparition that still reflected in my wand flashlight. “Lead the way, niece. Let’s go kill some succubi.”

WE EMERGED FROM MY aunt’s underground hideout into a beautiful temple with tall, rounded ceilings. I spun around in awe as moonlight cut through the stained-glass windows and illuminated the murals on the walls.

“Your hideout is under a church?” I asked my aunt.

“Not just any church,” she said with a wink. “The Vatican.”

Since we were in a different dimension than husks, they couldn’t see us, and we couldn’t see them beneath their sacred church. I still feared this was some sort of sacrilege, even if I didn’t practice human religions.

“And you’re okay with this?” I asked.

“It’s the perfect location.” She laughed. “The demons are afraid to come near here.”

She had a point. We followed her mercenaries toward the moonlight spilling in from an open set of two very tall doors and into the mild night air that smelled of ancient things and fresh brine. And then we jumped into the darkness like bats emerging from a cave, two dozen magical mercenaries, dressed in all black, and one braless witch in jeans and a sweatshirt.

Clutching my wand, I flew across the starry night sky, moonlight bathing my broomstick in shafts of silver. My untethered boobs flapped in the wind like water balloons in a jet turbine. Two dozen other striga mercenaries and Serena followed behind while the dryad light led the way. My aunt used a concealment spell to hide all of us, something that required a great deal of magic.

The dryad guided us to a familiar courtyard. I recognized the balcony, the courtyard gate, and the steep drive that led to the road. I didn’t see the hooked-nose witch’s car in the drive, just Antonio’s taxi.

I landed behind the taxi, staring at the quaint brick house from behind the hood. Not that the car offered much security, but it was better than nothing. I retracted my broom while keeping my wand at the ready.

My aunt landed beside me, snapping her compact broom shut while giving me a stony look. “Is this their house?”

I nodded. “But I don’t see the car Signora Oscura drives.”

My aunt worked a tic in her jaw, her features hardening. “That’s okay. We’ll be ready when she returns. You did good, niece.” She affectionately cupped my cheek. For a moment, I thought I was staring into my mom’s eyes, and I foolishly waited for her to give me a big hug and tell me everything was going to be okay. Instead, Serena nodded to two very big and scary minotaur striga with sharp, non-floppy horns that could do some serious damage. “Guard her with your life.”

They both grunted their obedience, standing as still as statues by my sides, their wands at the ready, while my aunt and the rest of her mages crept toward the house.

“Mind if I use a concealment spell?” I whispered to the minotaurs. Not that I was afraid of retribution from the succubi should my aunt fail. Actually, never mind. I was totally afraid. So much, in fact, that I feared I’d need an adult diaper soon if my stomach didn’t stop revolting.

One of the minotaurs waved his wand with a grunt and created a translucent shield around us.

“Or you can do it,” I mumbled.

I clutched my wand when I heard a whistle, followed by several bangs, screams, and flashes of light as my aunt and her mercenaries charged into the house. I felt bad that I wasn’t helping, but these mercenaries had been training for this. I’d probably get in the way or get killed.

And just when I thought my knees would give way, I heard a goat bleat, and Serena escorted a limping satyr out of the house. It took me a moment to register the satyr’s missing leg. I thought of those sausages and wanted to hurl. Goddess, I hoped he’d lost his leg long ago in a freak elevator accident, though I wasn’t reassured by the fresh bandages wrapped around his stump.

She sat the satyr on the ground beside me while heaving a long breath. “You don’t want to go in there.” She motioned toward the goat man. “It’s ugly.”

“Don’t eat the sausages,” I warned her.

She clutched her gut, the color draining from her face. “I think I’m turning vegetarian after this.”

“Did you find the queen?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We didn’t find the queen, but we got one succubus and several Vindicti.” She grimaced, patting my knee. “But with her nest disrupted, she won’t be able to hide long. Besides,” she added, “the queen might return home tonight.”

Hopefully, I thought to myself, because Des and I wouldn’t be safe as long as she still lived.

I couldn’t grow back the satyr’s leg, but I did use a healing spell on the wound and take away the pain. The satyr thanked me and then passed out.

They carried out Antonio’s body on a stretcher, throwing him and several robed figures on a pile. Luckily, none of our striga appeared injured.

I wanted to feel bad for Antonio, though I felt only disgust. He got what he deserved. I still didn’t get the point of the Vindicti. Why would they turn on their own kind? The succubi must’ve promised them something, though they were fools to trust demons.

I caught Serena’s gaze as she escorted a hooded figure out of the house.

She quickly crossed over to me.

“One of them survived?” I asked.

“Oh, that was the plan.” She licked her lips, an excited gleam in her eyes. “We saved one for questioning.”

A minotaur pulled back the Vindicti’s hood, and I cringed at the sight of a pimply-faced young man. He didn’t look older than eighteen. “What will you do to him?” I asked.

I wasn’t reassured when she averted her gaze. “Test him for memory and mind-control spells and get him to talk through any means necessary.”

Bile burned my throat, though I wasn’t sure what I could do for him. He and his friends were responsible for helping the demons who’d killed my parents.

“What about my bra?” I asked Serena. “Can someone get it for me?”

No way was I going back into that house.

My aunt sent a mercenary, a young, willowy witch, to fetch my bra. She returned with it in a few minutes, holding it in front of her like it was on fire.

I took the bra from her and shoved it in my purse. “Thanks.”

I’d put it on as soon as I cleaned it. In the meantime, I’m sure I looked like a walk-of-shame witch with smeared makeup, messed-up hair, and free-range tits. Oh well. It beat not being able to walk home at all.

A loud rattle came from the shed, followed by a muffled cry for help.

I pointed to the shed with my wand. “I think our fairy godfather is in there.”

Serena arched a brow. “Let’s go see.”

I followed her on numb legs, forcing myself to look away when an Insurgi emerged from the house with a bucket of sausage links.

After tonight, I didn’t think I could ever put another sausage in my mouth again. Well, not the dead kind, anyway.

SHU WAS A MIDDLE-AGED Asian man whose high, curly mullet looked as hard as concrete thanks to about an entire can of very potent aerosol hairspray. He wore bright purple parachute pants that swished when he walked, and I really, really, wished I could say that was the weirdest thing about him. He seemed oblivious to the chaos descending around us. Hooded Insurgi carried away the satyr on a stretcher, along with wheelbarrows of sausages. As for Antonio and the Vindicti, they burned them right in the middle of the courtyard, a big bonfire that the rest of the neighborhood couldn’t see or smell thanks to the demon’s wards.

“Well, it’s about time someone let me out of that stuffy bedroom.” Shu swished, swished, and swished while pacing back and forth, his hands waving wildly. “I’ve been banging on the door for days.”

“Days?” I shot Serena a look while stepping out of the fire’s smoke. Nothing quite like the fermented eggs and burned rubber smell of smoldering demon corpses. I’d probably have to burn my clothes and bathe in bleach when we returned to the hideout. “How long has he been missing?”

“Since 1986,” she mouthed, her brow creased with worry while Shu fumbled with a clunky cassette player strapped to his hot pink fanny pack and big headphones hanging around his neck. “Shu, are you okay?” she asked.

“Shu?” He gave her a quizzical look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know a Shu.”

“You’re Shu, our fairy godfather,” she slowly explained to him as if she was speaking to a child. “You’ve been missing for four decades. We thought the demons killed you.”

“Oh, honey.” He tossed back his head with a laugh, his hair rattling with the movement. “I think someone spiked your sweet tea. I’m Sparkles.” He splayed a hand across his chest. “I don’t know this Shu person.”

My aunt and I shared a look. “Sparkles?” I asked.

He spun a quick circle like a dog chasing its tail. “Where are my girls?”

Serena jutted a foot toward him. “Your girls?”

He rolled his eyes and head with an exaggerated movement before counting down on his fingers. “Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia.”

“ The Golden Girls ?” I blurted. Thanks to my mom’s love of old human sitcoms, we had watched every season of that show when I was growing up.

Serena gave me a strange look. “Wasn’t that a TV show?”

I grimaced. “Yeah.”

Serena visibly swallowed. “Are you a Golden Girl, Sparkles?”

“Don’t be silly.” He swatted the air with a giggle. “I’m their fairy godfather, though I didn’t get any airtime,” he said matter- of-factly. “I lived in the lamp next to the flour jar where Blanche kept her jewelry.”

“I think Sparkles has lost his mind,” Serena whispered.

I cringed at that, my gaze darting to Sparkles as he continued pacing and swishing. “You would, too, if someone locked you in a lamp for forty years.”

Serena grabbed a strapping young vampire who added a table leg to the bonfire. “Adam, don’t you have djinn blood?”

He shot Shu a worried look. “I do.”

“Can you go inside the lamp and look around?” she asked.

He grimaced, looking at Shu as if he’d catch his crazy. “Sure.”

“Keep your wand at the ready,” Serena warned him.

One moment Adam was standing there, and the next, he’d vaporized and disappeared inside an old rusty lamp sitting in the gravel.

I sat on an iron bench across from a small fountain while hoping this purge didn’t take much longer. “Sparkles.” I patted the seat beside me. “Come sit with me a spell.”

“Thanks,” he said while gently lowering himself onto the edge of the bench. “I don’t have long, though.” He made a big show of checking his watch. It had a neon pink, plastic wristband, a teal dial, and a checkered face. “My jazzercise class starts in a half hour.”

I forced a smile. “Of course.”

“Sparkles,” Serena said on a sigh while kneeling in front of him, “I’m not sure if you remember me. You’ve been part of our family for centuries. I’m Serena.” She nodded toward me. “This is Luciella. Her mother was my twin, Samanta.”

“Samanta.” He tapped his chin, looking lost in thought. “That name rings a bell.”

Serena’s smile didn’t mask the worry in her eyes. “Do you remember anything about our family?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”

“Do you remember anything about the people who locked you away?” I asked him.

He vehemently nodded. “Rose broke the doorknob, and Dorothy wanted to fix it herself instead of hiring a repairman.”

“Okay.” Serena made a face before standing. “Sure.”

Holy troll turds! Shu really had lost his mind. Curing insanity took powerful, specialized magic. The spells and incantations took years of training at a striga medical school. Because they were so rare, I didn’t know any striga healers myself, but I knew they were expensive. Colin had wanted to hire one to cure Des of his autism. An idea which I’d promptly shut down.

A sudden burst of steam poured from the lamp, and the vampire returned. He stumbled forward then hunched over while coughing into his fist.

Serena jumped to her feet and led him to the bench across from us. “Adam, are you okay?”

“Sorry.” He fanned his face, looking ready to pass out. “It reeks of Drakkar Noir in there.”

“What did you find, Adam?” Serena pressed.

“Nothing much,” he said. “Just a bedroom with purple shag carpet and an old TV.” He pulled two small boxes out of his cloak, handing them to my aunt. “I found these videos.”

She scowled at the boxes, which I realized were faded VHS cases. “ Jazzercise It Up and The Golden Girls .”

“Those are mine!” Shu squealed like a stuck pig and jumped from the bench. “Give me those!” He snatched them out of Serena’s hands, hugging them to his chest.

“I think I remember Samanta recording these for you.” Serena eyed him while rubbing her chin. “There was only one season at the time, but you loved that show.”

“I still do.” He rocked the tapes in his arms like he was cradling a baby. “They’ve been my only friends for so long.” He sniffled, and a lone tear slid down his cheek. “Everyone else forgot about me, just like the butler, Coco.”

Coco? I vaguely remembered The Golden Girls had a butler named Coco in the first episode, but I thought they wrote him out of the show. My heart broke for Shu.

“I’m sorry, Shu.” Serena led him back to the bench and sat beside him, taking his hands in hers. “I looked everywhere for you. I thought the succubi had killed you.” She nodded in my direction. “And Luciella was too young to understand what was happening.”

I swallowed back my sorrow, feeling bad that I didn’t remember him, but I’d been just a toddler when he’d disappeared.

My aunt continued while rubbing his arms. “You’re not a television character. You’re Shu, our fairy godfather. You’re not a forgotten butler. You’re family, and we’re going to get you some help, okay?”

“I don’t need help.” He motioned toward the lamp. “I should return home. Rose needs a bowling partner for the big tournament, and I have to starch and iron my uniform.”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Not yet, Shu. Stay with us a while.” She jumped up and pocketed the lamp. “You’ve been in the lamp too long.”

His shoulders fell. “Okay. For a little while.”

I stood and crossed over to my aunt. “What will you do with him?” I whispered.

“He requires a powerful healing spell.” She rubbed her chin while eyeing him as he hung his head in his hands. “I’m not sure I can do it.”

A look of understanding passed between us, and I swore beneath my breath.

I pinned her with a glare. She wanted to use Des to heal Shu. “He’s just a boy.”

She frowned, clasping her hands together. “He’s Shu’s best chance.”

“Don’t give up hope,” Shu said. “One time we thought we were going to lose Sophia to a heart attack. We were so terrified, and the ambulance couldn’t get to her through the storm, but then it turned out to be her gallbladder.”

I inwardly cringed while whispering to my aunt. “We’ll let Des try, but I can’t guarantee it will work.”

She nodded. “I’d go crazy, too, if I’d been trapped in a lamp for forty years.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Four decades of hairspray, jazzercise, and neon parachute pants is enough to turn anyone insane.”