9

Walter

A week had gone by, and I'd barely gained any understanding of the navigation systems here at the helm of the villa. I'd tried spending time researching in the library or exploring the doorways, which might very well lead to an instructional manual, but someone insisted I stay here in this room unless otherwise escorted. The same someone only ever brought me to the kitchen or the bedroom he'd claimed and horribly trashed the artwork he deemed ‘crass' or ‘tasteless' among other less polite phrases.

"Any progress?" Speaking of the annoying someone… Bez came strutting into the helm, wet hair sticking to his small horns still exposed, and one of his tails patted down his muscular abs as he fiddled with something on his dress shirt.

Since arriving here, he'd begun absorbing the trace amounts of Mythic residue wafting around the residence, which helped stitch up his host body. We'd planned on getting him a new one, but I didn't like the idea of killing some poor person and taking their body, and Bez's Diabolic features weren't a problem so long as the Collective didn't catch wind. With so much extra magic, it seemed he could repair the tears in his human suit and tuck away those features.

"I don't like the cleaning supplies here," he said, picking at lint. "I prefer the ones at our former residence."

"It's lint, Bez. It'll follow you to any plane."

"Only in the cheap machines. Clearly, that Fae had no respect for his wardrobe. Even I acquired acceptable utilities for us."

I smiled. I'd refused to pay an extra grand for the washer and dryer unit Bez wanted, and I told him no stealing, so for a solid six weeks, he stalked every Black Friday event across the tri-state area—yes, every store. Every tip. Every possible savings on ‘fallible currency.' Then he dragged me to some sale two days early, six-hundred miles away, all so we could have a proper unit. Admittedly, they were a great washer and dryer, wonderful on water use, nice on the utilities, and it always made me happy to reminisce about the domestic bliss we shared.

Even if it was short-lived or an illusion. I enjoyed following Bez anywhere and everywhere.

"What?" he asked with a sour expression because gods forbid he endure the travesty of lint, which he wouldn't have to deal with if he changed the filter. "Have you made any progress on pinpointing the Diabolics?"

"Nope. I'd make more progress if you'd let me explore some."

"Absolutely not. Especially since I have to step out." Bez grabbed a stack of books I'd pulled from a short visit to the library.

"Hey. What're you doing with those?"

"Selling them," he said casually. "What? You said they held no intel on the villa, so they're useless to your studies."

"They hold ancient rites on countless Mythic practices, secrets seeped in spellcraft that could take decades to decipher, knowledge that's priceless."

"Not that priceless. I'm certain Mora will find a buyer real quick."

"W-what?" I jumped out of my chair. "No. You can't just sell them to anybody."

"We have bills to pay, and this junk isn't doing anyone any good sitting in storage."

"I'm the one who manages our day-to-day expenses, and we're fine."

"That Fae performance you insisted on attending was rather pricey," Bez muttered.

"I didn't even know about it until you took me."

"Well, it cost a small fortune, and I refuse to be indebted to Mora even if it was a ploy on her end." Bez swaggered across the room, eyeing up anything and everything he could pawn off. "I can't have her pleading I owe her favors if I ever decide to rip out her manipulative heart one day. It's undignified."

"So, you're just leaving?" And taking priceless items beyond either of their comprehension. I swear, Bez and Mora tossed artifacts about with no regard. I wondered if Kell dealt with this from Mora, too.

"Only long enough to send these off and return. I'll be back soon."

By "send them," he meant using the stealth incantation for the Hawk's Eye Traveling spell. Cloak their presence and ship them discreetly to Seattle, where Mora would, in turn, find a buyer and then wire us the payment—minus her exorbitant commission.

"And by soon, I mean very soon. Don't get any ideas about snooping around." Bez glared. "Now that the wards are down, I can feel your link with ease."

I folded my arms, not in a pouting way. A furious way. He'd stumbled onto that discovery when he went home to retrieve our clothes and knew I'd wandered around. Or so he said. Honestly, I think he just rolled the dice on that one and got lucky. Bez knew there was a ninety-percent likelihood I'd explore, so he happened to guess right.

He jabbed me in the forehead with a sharpened black nail, not his claws, but the glamoured almond nail shape he liked so much. "I mean it, Walter."

"Yeah, yeah." I brushed his hand away. "I heard you."

"Yes, but you had the gears-turning expression, which means you probably weren't listening."

"Yes. I'm listening." Mildly. Bez tended to think I overthought things and thus acted rashly, which was the opposite of overthinking, but I didn't have the time to have that argument with him because I wanted him gone, so I could explore.

Bez reached into his blazer's inside pocket and pulled out a dagger.

I quivered. Not just any blade. The Demon's Demise. I hadn't looked at that weapon since stabbing Ian in the chest and watching the life drain from his face. My stomach twisted. I didn't like thinking back on Ian. How much I hated him. How good it felt ending his life. The way he convulsed beneath my hips as I straddled him, the stillness of him as everything about Ian faded to nothingness and he died.

I snatched the dagger from Bez. "How'd you even fit that in your pocket?"

"Magnetism incantation. Works better than the refrigerator."

"What're you doing with it?" My stomach churned; I'd put this in a tightly sealed and enchanted box for a reason.

I couldn't very well leave it behind, but I couldn't risk it being used on Bez or me or Mora or anyone with Diabolic essence since it could easily carve it out. That was the only reason.

"We did keep it on the off chance we stumbled onto a menacing demon, and we might get our chance," Bez said, smirking.

"Huh?"

"This boat of a home seems quite empty, rats included, but there's a lot of essence and Mythic residue circulating throughout. I haven't investigated nearly as much as I'd prefer…"

He hadn't snooped because he wanted to keep an eye on me.

"It's unlikely to happen since chances are the chunks of essence floating about are merely used as fuel to keep this thing moving, but on the off chance a demon appears—gut it."

"You think that's necessary?"

"Absolutely. Never mince words with demons. Kill them and save the conversation for their eulogy. That's my motto."

"I should've tried that when you kicked me down the stairs." I grimaced.

"You did. And failed spectacularly." He puckered his lips. "Then I ravished you, which I wish I had some time for now, but alas, work calls."

I rolled my eyes, mainly because of how he'd repainted our history to suit his banter and his boasting over work. Bez hated work, calling it a classist system to oppress joy, yet he wanted all the fun things which cost money.

"You think I can hold my own against a demon?"

"Not a chance. You'll be dead in a minute. Less than if they realize you're screwing a devil. But since you're insistent on exploring without me at your side, we need proper measures in place."

I clenched the blade's hilt.

Tony clacked his claws, startling me.

"Ah, yes, Antoninus," Bez said the name mockingly. "If you toss him at a Diabolic foe, you might buy yourself a few more seconds."

"Rude." I bopped Bez on the chest, to which he merely snapped his teeth like biting the air, then grinned.

Tony hissed. And for good reason. I hadn't even realized Tony had gotten here when Bez nearly dropped a book on him during our one library visit since moving into the villa. Bez claimed he must have snuck into his slacks when he went through the portal to rescue me, but I suspected there was more to the story. I just didn't know the full story…yet.

"Just stay in here, keep the door locked, and be sure to run if something jumps out of the shadows." With that, Bez walked toward the white glowing seven-sided star sigil and vanished in a cloud of golden, sparkling specks.

The helm had the only exit on or off the villa's dimensional voyage, back to our plane of reality. Well, the only one we'd found. Bez was right. I needed to remain here. Not that anything had appeared or attacked us since arriving and dealing with the former Baron Novus, but it was doubtful an enemy would strike with a devil nearby.

I gulped. "I'm going to double-check the door."

Tony skittered toward the operation's panel, obviously dismissing my fear as paranoia. But it was like double-checking the stove, deadbolt, or light switch in another room—it never hurt to air on the side of caution, whereas it could be deadly to throw caution to the wind.

I reexamined the incantations I'd added as an extra locking mechanism on the entrance. The glow of the symbols held strong, and even a regiment chancellor would have difficulty breaking through. These wards would keep anyone from just walking into the helm. Excluding a Fae, of course, since they could simply move between dimensions and skirt the laws put into place. Or a Diabolic, who could do the same, and also use their essence to devour and destroy the incantations altogether.

Oh, gods. I was screwed.

Why'd Bez have to put that in my head? I hoped he'd return soon. Mainly because he'd planted horrible doubts about my death without him here, and also, I had nothing to research. I'd scoured the books I'd brought that didn't remotely assist in comprehending how the navigation system for the villa's helm worked, which didn't matter since he'd stolen them to pawn off to Mora.

Tony clicked his claws, directing them to the navigation panel. He was right. Sometimes the best way to learn a system was to explore it with a little hands-on instruction. Plus, it'd distract me at the very least.

I set the dagger down and joined in to investigate the control panel, doing my best to recall Sylvan symbols without a handy guidebook for linguistic references. Each letter of the alphabet acted as a button to push. Tony trailed alongside a set of seven repeatedly, careful not to tap them but pointing his stinger every time he crossed those particular letters.

"You're clearly better at memorizing the Fae language than I am," I said. "Alrighty, buddy. I'm gonna trust your judgment."

I pressed the first, second, and third symbols he'd shuffled past. When I reached for the fourth, Tony hissed.

"Oops." I followed his very clear order of directions.

Gears whirled. Followed by clanks and thunks and lots of twisting knots sounding below and above this room.

"Shit. Pretty sure we hit a few incorrect buttons."

A learning curve that hopefully didn't break anything.

I looked at the door, triple checking the ward held strong, which of course, it did.

"Maybe we shouldn't play with this," I said.

Tony ignored me, his thirst for answers bolder than mine, and continued trailing by different buttons.

"I just think…"

He clicked his claws as impatiently as Bez when enduring my overthinking anxiety.

"Let's just wait."

Tony hopped onto a button, then a second.

I reached out to scoop him up before he caused irreparable damage, but he reached a third, and the navigation course screen blipped away.

"Look what you did!" I backed away, tugging my curls.

What if this changed our course? What if it altered the dimensional frequency? What if Bez couldn't find us now? What if we were stuck on this villa floating between planes of existence forever?

The screen lit up, no longer a black hue with a green dot for a destination but a hundred gray screens indicating various cameras spread throughout the villa.

"Look what you did." I stepped closer, watching the mini screens flicker and switch views to other rooms. "Whoa."

Some were to rooms I didn't think Bez or I had stumbled onto, which meant the live feed worked through trans-dimensional recording. A totally intricate system beyond even what the Collective had access to. They'd often tried setting up security systems inside the Dimensional Atrium, but the technology receivers never responded outside the pocket realm.

"Tony, you're a brilliant mastermind." I extended a hand so he could climb up my shoulder. My palm brushed over a single letter, barely grazing it, yet the faint button glowed white and then blinked over and over.

The seven-sided star portal exit nearby joined in the flickering until the glowing doorway vanished altogether.

"No. What'd I do?" I took a deep breath. Several deep breaths. Several speedy, panicky deep breaths. "Shit."

BANG.

My heart hammered almost as loudly as the something that pounded against the door.

BANG.

It hit the door a second time.

"Shit."

BANG. BANG. BANG.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." I grabbed the Demon's Demise, holding it firmly, and desperate the door held strong. "Please don't be a demon."

Then again, would this Diabolic killing blade work on anything other than a Diabolic?

Tony hissed, stabbing his stinger at the air.

"Right," I said with a shiver. It was sharp. Stabby. Stabbing worked on just about any threat.

A harsh scraping replaced the pounding against the door.

I squeezed the hilt until my trembling body settled—mostly. I swallowed the terror bubbling inside me and cast saturation throughout the helm. As suspected, the incantations on this side began to falter. Whatever slashed at them from the other side had tremendous power, hacking away magic put in place without setting off any of the defensive recoil enchantments. Those wards were supposed to create a barrier to prevent interference and explosives to strike out when tampered with.

The handle fell to the floor.

The door creaked open.

A lump grew in my throat.

Six glowing purple eyes stared from the darkness of the corridor. Literal flames danced in the irises, eyes bigger than my fists.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said with a squeak, one that gave away the obvious lie.

The monstrous silhouette burned bright blue and lunged from the shadows.