“It’s not-!” He cut himself off, scanning their surroundings in the small bookstore. There weren’t exactly a whole lot of other customers, or really any at all. “It’s not a witches’ club,” he hissed, “and you should be discreet about such things.”
Molly glanced over her shoulder at the bald fellow with the naturally sinister-well, creepy and nerdy-face. He stood a few inches shorter than her, clad in a black trench coat over an olive drab dress shirt. The guy openly wore a chain with a pentagram and another with an all-seeing eye symbol, and he had an evil eye tattooed on his neck just over his collar, yet he wanted Molly to be quiet about his club in the middle of an occult bookstore. “This is the third time you’ve bugged me about this,” she said.
“You will not get another offer,” he pressed.
“Yeah, bullshit. We won’t get another offer ‘til the next one. Again: fuck off.”
“You’re only short-changing yourself. A new order is coming to this city,” the little man pressed. “You can be on the inside or you can be an outsider when it happens. We are trying to be polite.”
“Not listening.”
“Then at least look at this.” He shoved a color print-out in front of her.
She glanced down at the picture, blinked, and promptly bit her tongue. Molly forced a scowl as she took it. “What is this? A picture from hotchickswithdouchebags.com?”
“Bring us anything on this guy or the woman in the sketch and you’ll be rewarded.”
“Would that get you to go away?”
“His name is Alex. He may be mundane, but it’s possible that he’s a Practitioner. The woman is Lorelei. She’s…not of this world,” he said in a lower voice. “Spewed forth from the Pit.”
“Something’s gonna be spewed forth from my pit all over your snazzy outfit if you don’t back up. You’re making me nauseous.”
“I’m done being patient! You can rule with the rest of us or you can be food. Your choice.”
“Food-? Oh, fuck, are you people involved with them? Jesus. You’re bigger pansies than I thought. Go away, I don’t want anyone to see me talking to you.” She turned away from him to look at the bookshelves again.
“Fucking cunt,” he said, reaching out to grab her. He suddenly stopped at the loud, low smack of a hand on fabric. He jerked bolt upright with a high-pitched grunt.
“Leave us alone,” Onyx said, clutching his groin from behind, “or you and all your future offspring get to enjoy a soul-burning case of hereditary herpes.”
He grunted again, then nodded. Onyx released him, standing up her full height as he strode away. She walked after him to ensure he left without further trouble. The clerk at the counter hardly looked up from painting his nails.
“Sorry I picked such a bad time to go to the bathroom,” Onyx grumbled as she returned to Molly. Then she frowned with concern at the look on Molly’s face. “What is it?” When Molly showed her the picture of Alex at the house party and the sketch of the woman Onyx had seen at his home, Onyx gasped.
“Their little magic club is looking for them. He said her name’s Lorelei and she’s from Hell, and that Alex might be a Practitioner.”
Onyx shook her head. “No way. Not him. I’m telling you.”
“I believe you,” Molly shrugged, “but I imagine this is the woman you saw at his place, right? Wouldn’t that confirm what we thought?”
“Yeah. Wow. What the hell is going on with him?”
“I didn’t want to ask Poindexter out there, but clearly something serious. Though why it would involve those buttmunches out there is beyond me. Maybe she’s an escapee from one of their pervy summoning orgies?”
Onyx made a face. “Ugh, you think they really do that?”
“Probably. You think a guy like that gets laid without using magic? It’s either summonings or probably date rape sorcery. I’d prefer not to think about the latter.”
It didn’t make Onyx feel any better. “This is such a mess. I’m so sorry.”
Molly just grinned. “I can think of ways for you to apologize.”
“I’m serious!” Onyx said, swatting her arm while trying to fight off a smile of her own.
“I am, too. If I can get lingerie shows and breakfast in bed every time you get some from a guy, I might have to arrange some regular Friday afternoon action for you. You’re a lot of fun when you feel guilty.”
“You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Onyx, I’m trying. I want you to stop feeling guilty about this. Look, if he’s bad news, we’ll have to end it, but if there’s a chance that things are okay or if we can make ‘em okay, I’m not going to go back on what I said last week. Remember the ‘what would we do with a penis’ conversation?” Molly waited for her to blush. “Hey, I like him, too. He seems like a nice guy. I don’t want to see him eaten by demons. So let’s get our shit together, okay?”
After a deep breath, Onyx tilted her head to the bookshelf in front of Molly. “Find what we’re looking for?”
“Yeah,” Molly said as her grin turned to a frown. “I didn’t want to pull it down until that tool was gone. Anyway, it’s seventy bucks. Think he’s worth it?”
Onyx’s mouth twisted to match Molly’s expression. She sighed. “I guess that’s my budget for going out for the next couple weeks.” She pulled a large, hard-bound book on demonology from the shelf.
“I kinda like staying in with you lately,” Molly said, slipping an arm around Onyx’s waist and kissing her lightly on the neck. “Hell, I didn’t even want to leave the apartment today.” She pulled the book from Onyx’s hands. “Early birthday present. I’m buying.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. But take a look outside while I’m paying up. You’ve got better eyes.”
Onyx strolled over to the front of the store, looking out at Broadway Avenue. The rain had lessened to a steady Seattle drizzle. Traffic was light; there was rarely much activity on Capitol Hill on a wet Sunday morning. Onyx and Molly both took for granted that most of the hill’s denizens were still sleeping off their hangovers. With the relative lack of human activity, Onyx found it easier to spot the telltale gloom of malevolent intent.
“Oh wow,” Onyx said as Molly got the book rung up by the clerk. “He’s out there with friends. I don’t think this is just another try at following us home.” She cast a concerned look at Molly. “This is serious.”
Molly took a deep breath and let it out. No getting away from this now. She looked at the clerk. “Hey, have you got a back door here? Out to the alley outside?”
The clerk looked up from under his dreadlocks evenly, glancing over at Onyx and back again. He shook his head. “Not that I can let anyone use. Sorry. Owner’s instructions. Door’s covered in runes. It’s my ass if it gets opened and something comes out.”
“You got roof access at least?”
“Sure. But I wouldn’t try climbing down.”
“No, I’ve just gotta call some friends,” Molly nodded.
“And could we use the back room for like ten minutes?” Onyx said, coming over to them.
“That depends on what you use it for,” the clerk said. “I heard about the last time you two used it.”
Both young women blushed guiltily. “Um,” Onyx said, trying not to laugh in embarrassment, “very serious occult business here today, sir. We swear.”
“Mm-hmm,” Molly nodded, choking down her commentary.
The clerk glanced outside again. He understood the score. “I don’t need to know what you’re up to,” he shrugged with a practiced noncommittal tone. “Just remember, this is neutral ground. Whatever you’ve got going on, save it for the street.”
* * *
Cruel and bloody vengeance dominated Kenneth’s thoughts. His mind only darkened over the twenty minutes he stood behind the van across the street. He smoked a clove cigarette, thinking about all the brutal things he would do to those two bitches once they fell under his thumb.
His Lord would let Kenneth have them for a few nights before he handed hand them over. Then again, Lord Stefan might want the Goth princess in the lacy black dress. She had something of a classic, delicate beauty. But the redhead was a punk and a dyke to boot; pretty, but marred enough by tomboyish sensibilities that Stefan wouldn’t likely soil himself with her. He’d surely leave her to Kenneth, at least.