Page 2 of The Devil You Know
“I guess sooner or later, the remaining witches would have heard about the ones we dispatched,” Evan replied.
“We wondered whether they kept track of each other. I guess now we know,” Seth muttered.
Seth cleaned up and put away the medic bag. When he returned, he had a glass of water and held out two ibuprofen and an antibiotic capsule, which Evan accepted gratefully.
“Rest,” Seth told him, slipping his fingers through Evan’s dark chestnut hair and down his cheek. Evan leaned into the touch and kissed Seth’s palm.
“You got us away from them,” Evan said quietly. “I thought we were gonna die.”
“Not tonight. And not any time soon,” Seth replied, hoping it was a promise he could keep. Evan got up to head for the bedroom, and Seth turned to the door.
“Where are you going?” Evan asked.
“I’m going to see if there’s a way to ward the damn bike.” Seth paused. “Don’t worry. I’ll be in soon.”
“I’ll keep the bed warm for you,” Evan promised.
Seth felt too jittery to sleep, and he figured that he’d just keep Evan awake. He shouldered into his jacket, slipped his gun into the waistband of his jeans, and took a small burlap bag tied shut with red string from a drawer near the door.
It’s my fault they found us tonight. I didn’t ward the bike. I nearly got Evan killed because I was sloppy.
He paused on the top step to look out over the quiet campground. They had laid down protections around the truck and RV, good enough to keep out most creatures and low-level witches. It probably wouldn’t protect them if Osborn decided to show up in person, but Seth doubted the witch would consider them worth his attention.
Not when he could delegate their murder to his minions.
Seth opened the leather saddlebag on the left side of the bike and stuffed the small burlap packet inside. Then he pulled a paint pen from his pocket and marked warding symbols on the inside of the bag’s flap. He repeated the glyphs on the inside of the engine cover and beneath both fenders.
A root woman in Charleston had shown Seth and Evan how to make hex bags for protection and defense. She’d also made more powerful bags for them herself, and explained how to use a few basic Hoodoo rituals to deflect attention and ward off evil.
Evan and I aren’t in this alone anymore. We’ve got friends. Allies. We’ve learned so much. Maybe we’ll get lucky and live through this.
Milo and Toby were hunters who had taken Seth in when he was raw and angry, nearly suicidal in his grief and rage. He’d spent almost two years with them, learning everything they could teach him about the supernatural, magic, monsters, and lore. The army trained Seth in modern weapons, but Milo and Toby taught him to use machetes and blessed swords, rituals, and rote spells. Even so, Seth had been at a serious disadvantage against the first of the coven he’d fought, and while he had saved Evan, escaping with their lives and destroying the first warlock had been a near thing.
Seth let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he finished warding the bike. He brushed his hand over the specially made guardian bell that hung from the lowest part of the frame, a gift from Milo and Toby, and wondered if it had helped to keep them safe tonight.
Tempting as it was to slip into bed beside Evan’s warm body, he was too antsy. Seth sat down on the steps to the fifth-wheeler and pulled out his phone.
“Hey, Seth,” Milo greeted him. “Everything okay?” His mentors seemed to sense when Seth needed them.
“We’re outside Cleveland. A truck chased us on the bike and the passenger shot at us. One of the bullets grazed Evan.”
“Fuck,” Milo growled, and Seth heard Toby in the background, insisting that the call be put on speakerphone.
“You two all right?” Toby asked, his gruff tone covering concern.
“Evan will be okay. I got him patched up, and he didn’t need stitches,” Seth replied. “It could have been a lot worse. I think Osborn knows we’re coming for him.”
“They were going to figure it out sooner or later,” Milo replied. “Even if the coven members don’t like each other, they’d be stupid not to keep tabs just for self-defense. Hard to miss when four of them die off in the same year.”
“I put new wards on the bike to help it deflect attention,” Seth replied. “And I’m giving credit to the demon bell for getting us home safe tonight.”
Legend held that small bells with protective images and sigils kept “road demons” from harming the motorcycle’s rider. The one Seth’s mentors had gifted him was likely far more authentic than those offered in the average biker shop.
“Watch your step,” Milo warned. “If Osborn considers you a threat—even a minor one—he’ll try to get rid of the ‘distraction.’ He likely knows what happened to the other witches who didn’t take you seriously.”
“We’re ahead of the game this time,” Seth assured him. “We have better intel, thanks to Simon and Travis, so we know the current identity of the disciple, and we’re pretty sure we know where his anchor is hidden. When we were in Charleston, Rowan taught us more rote spells, and Mrs. Teller showed us some Hoodoo we can use. We’ve got new sigils and relics and weapons, thanks to Cassidy’s friends. That’s a big advantage.”
Their allies were psychics, mediums, former supernatural special ops agents, witches, and conjure women, bound together by friendship and a mutual commitment to protect the world from paranormal threats.
