“Yeah, well. I’m not a normal reaper.” I shook the envelope at her. “You’re overdue, Olivia. You owe my client, Grimoire Lending, a shitload of fines and their book back.”
Something seemed to change in her face. I couldn’t quite place it. “Yeah, well your client – who I’ve had a great relationship with for the last eight years – lent me a cursed book without the proper warnings. I can’t get the damned thing out of my house. So if you can get it to leave, feel free to do so. I’ve already made the minimum fine payment on a credit card.”
I pulled out my phone and checked my email. There was one from three days ago from Nadine that I hadn’t bothered to read, and it confirmed that the debtor was making payments. That made my job so much easier.
“Where is it?” I asked.
“Kitchen table.” Olivia stood to the side as I entered the kitchen. It wasn’t a big house, with the kitchen, hall, and living room all kind of running into each other, with the bedrooms on the far side of the living room. The kitchen was about the same size as my own, with just enough room for a sink, oven, microwave, table, and a workbench covered in various herbs. More cuttings hung from drying racks along the ceiling, just above Olivia’s head – which meant I had to duck to not get a face full of whatever she was preparing for her spells and potions.
The book was leather-bound, clearly old, but not particularly special-looking. It was about the size of a mass market paperback and was titled HOW TO SUMMON A DEMON AND MAKE FRIENDS WITH IT TOO!
“Demonology is some dangerous shit, you know,” I said over my shoulder.
“Oh, I’m aware. A girl’s got to have hobbies though, right?” She stood in the entrance to the kitchen, watching me.
I snorted. Is she strong enough to handle demons? I asked Maggie.
I would say no, except for how precise her wards are. I don’t know a lot about demonology, but I’ve heard that technical skill is more important than raw strength. Still nothing I’d recommend for dabbling.
“What’s the deal with the hat and cloak?” I asked Olivia, examining the book from all angles before taking a seat in front of it.
“The clientele for my sort of work has expectations.”
“Ah. They want you to look like a witch?”
“Exactly. I have the training and experience, but I don’t really fit the picture. Also, I’m technically not a witch. I am a nondenominational practitioner of witchcraft. At least until the lawsuit is over.”
That brought to mind a bit of local gossip I’d heard from Nadine. “You get caught up in that Cleveland Coven thing?”
Olivia came around and sat down kitty-corner from me at the table. She looked genuinely surprised. “You know about that?”
I shrugged. “Just office gossip. The Cleveland Coven is trying to sue everyone and their grandma over the use of the word witch.”
Olivia’s brow wrinkled. “It’s fucking protectionism, and I’m sick of it. Just because I don’t want to join their goddamn Wiccan union doesn’t mean they get to bully around …” The last few words turned into a snarl before she cut herself off. She inhaled sharply, muttering something under her breath and passing a hand across her face to regain her composure. “Sorry. It’s just tough to be a small business owner in this economy, you know?”
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me. I’ve dealt with members of the Cleveland Coven before. They’re” – I thought of the hives I had for seven months – “petty is the kindest word I can think of.”
Olivia leaned back in her chair as if reassessing me. We stared at each other for just a few seconds too long before she cleared her throat. “Have you ever collected an overdue book before?”
“Nope,” I responded, turning my attention back to the tome in front of me. “One of my colleagues usually handles the Grimoire accounts, but he saved up three years of vacation and is going to be gone the whole damned month, so here I am.”
“You do seem more the punchy type than bookish.”
“That’s the second time you’ve implied I’m stupid.”
Olivia had the courtesy to look embarrassed. “I didn’t …”
“It’s fine,” I waved her off. I wasn’t normally that sensitive, but having a pretty woman tell me I look like an idiot just kind of put a damper on my morning. “It comes with the territory. And you’re right, I’m more the punchy type, except for today.” I eyeballed the book for a few more moments.
The hesitation seemed to make Olivia nervous. “I do hope you know what you’re doing.”
I opened the embossed envelope and slid out a metal bookmark. It was gold, just thick enough so the soft metal could keep its shape, and stamped with arcane symbols. There was also a paper with a set of instructions on it. I read the instructions. Olivia stood up, backing up to the far side of the kitchen.
You probably should be careful, Maggie warned.
For what? It’s a book.
It’s a grimoire, and those can have minds of their own.
What’s the worst that can happen? I asked.
Famous last words.
“It’s a pop-up book,” Olivia told me.
“Like, a kid’s book?”
“Not exactly.”
I read the instructions again, shrugged, and slid the bookmark carefully between the cover and the first page. Nothing happened.
Huh, Maggie said. I think that worked. I felt something click inside the book. The curse should be lifted long enough to get it back to Grimoire Lending.
Fancy that. Something went right for once. I grinned at Olivia. “Worked like a charm.”
“Uh …”
Duck! Maggie shouted.
I knew better than to question when Maggie barked a warning, so I threw myself to the floor. I felt something swish right through the air where my head had been and heard a thump against the far wall. Olivia rattled off an angry litany of something that might have been magical spells or swearwords. I rolled over, got to my knees, and found myself face-to-face with one of the most horrific creatures I’d ever seen.
At first glance, it was a tarantula the size of a rottweiler. It had eight smooth, spindly legs, a fat, hairy midsection, and a mouth full of clicking mandibles. There was only one set of eyes, however, and they were almost human. They glared at me with a fury I’d seen in countless debtors whose days I’d interrupted. It hissed and spat at me, hesitating as it looked around as if to get the lay of the room.
I rolled backward and onto my feet in a move that would make an action star proud. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s a pop-up demon! I told you it was a pop-up book!” Olivia was stuck in the corner and, to her credit, seemed more irritated than she was scared. She made a move to try and get around the demon but backed up again when it turned its attention toward her.
Any suggestions? I asked Maggie. Now that I wasn’t staring down the demon’s mouth, I could see that those spiderlike qualities ended with the general shape. The legs and back were covered in armored carapace, the hair growing through cracks, and light hitting that armor seemed to bend strangely, as if the creature really was two-dimensional.
The house is warded against weapons, so don’t draw your Glock. Otherwise … good luck. Demons aren’t really in my wheelhouse.
The demon clattered one way, then another, then turned and lunged toward Olivia. I read the movement and leapt at the same time, grabbing it by its rear two legs and yanking it away from her. I swung it up and around and whipped it against Olivia’s oven, shattering the glass and bending the metal. The demon grabbed the oven as I tried to pull it back for another blow, set its other six legs, and jerked itself out of my grasp.