Page 2 of Strike It Witch

Soon, I set out one of Mom’s Limoges teacups for him to sip water from and ordered a bag of cat food. I took him to the vet for a checkup. Bought him a snuggly bed I tucked beneath a planter of his namesake in the garden room so he could take long, herb-scented naps.

When Fennel trusted me enough, he showed me his magic. Nearly three years later, I was still in awe of his power.Moreover, I was grateful and humbled he’d chosen to share it with me.

Ida and Fennel were the people I loved most in the world, and the only ones I trusted implicitly. If anything went wrong tonight, I’d walk through Hell itself to save them.

Nothing would go wrong, of course. As long aseveryone followed the plan.

Ida dropped me off a half mile north of the rendezvous point, and I hoofed it through an alfalfa field while she and Fennel circled back and took their place on the road.

The wind buffeted my body, sending cold darts of air into the skin I’d left exposed. I popped my collar, shoved my hands into the pockets of my black, faux-leather jacket, and willed my misty breath not to give away my position as I trudged through the pungent plants to a stand of eight-foot mesquite trees, where the wind would be blocked enough for me to get the salt circles drawn.

Made it with five minutes to spare.

Setting up didn’t take long. Yes, it had been a while, but I’d been drawing demon-containment circles since I was a kid. Despite Ida’s worries, it wasn’t something I was ever likely to forget.

Fennel sent me a message through our mental link. Ida had picked up the hitchhiker demon after crossing a farm road beside an irrigation canal, and the three of them were headed toward me.

An ancient chant rolled off my tongue the second the blue Ford barreled into view. The demon was in the passenger seat, Ida was behind the wheel, and Fennel hunkered on the floorboard in the back.

So far, so good.

I touched up my two salt circles—I’d added the second one as a failsafe—chanted the last lines of the spell that would hidethem, and slipped into the shadows of the thick, bent branches, brushing the narrow leaves out of my hair. A sudden strong gust rustled the winter-soft pods on the mesquite branches.

The boat-sized LTD coasted through the opening between the trees and docked five feet from the edge of the outer circle. I released my mental link with Fennel. Maintaining it took energy I’d need later.

A wavering black membrane appeared in the air.

The demon’s gateway.

I’d known it was coming, but my guts turned inside out anyway. Doubt clouded my focus, panic gripped me. It’d been four years since I’d banished even a low caste demon, and I couldn’t be certain what level of dark entity the highway demon was until he was in my circle.

This is why I prefer to work alone.

But I wasn’t alone. Ida and Fennel were depending on me. Fennel doubly so.

Stop it. You’re in control, spell to seal. Contingencies are in place. Ida knows what she’s doing and so does Fennel. It’s going as planned.

Ida opened the driver’s side door, and Fennel streaked out of the car. The demon didn’t notice the Bombay as he was too busy trying to extricate himself from the seatbelt he’d put on for some reason. Probably after watching Ida take her hands off the wheel while driving.

Demons didn’t die like humans, but they could feel the pain of being flung through a car windshield the same as anyone.

Once the demon was out of the car, he stepped into a beam of moonlight, revealing himself. Short, humanoid, and balding, the creature had soulless black eyes and skin the color of mold on white bread.

A gust of air blew his noxious scent into my face, where it assaulted my nasal passages and oozed into my mouth. I wouldrather have thrust my head into a dumpster full of rotting food on a hundred-fifteen-degree day than be one inch closer. How Ida wasn’t gagging from the stench, I hadn’t a clue.

Fennel scaled the nearest mesquite. He leapt stealthily from branch to branch, tree to tree, finally settling on a crooked limb that hung to the left of the portal.

If either Ida or the demon noticed, they didn’t show it.

Ida clambered out of the car and slammed the door shut. “What’re you planning to do to me, punk? I should warn you, I’m no pushover. First chance I get, I’m out of here.”

Damn it, Ida.

“Silence,” the demon said.

Ida shot him a dirty look.

“Follow,” the demon commanded, and the robotic way she obeyed told me he had her under his control.

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