Page 35 of Cold Curses
“Legions,” Theo repeated, and pushed away the rest of his sandwich, appetite apparently gone.
“What are his strengths?” I asked.
“He can control horses,” Petra said. “Use turtle shells topredict the future. Strong as two oxen. And has command of a legion of ten thousand.”
Roger nearly choked on his sandwich. “Excuse me?”
“According to Solomon, who wanted to seem like a badass, and the demon, who also wanted to seem like a badass. But I think that’s mostly a demon-dimension thing. You don’t really get the same fan base when you pop into the human world.”
“Minions of some number,” I said. “Check.”
“This is his sigil,” Petra said, and showed us her screen. A sigil was a demon’s personal mark, usually made up of lines within a larger circle. It could be used to seal or control the demon, so they didn’t share them willingly. We almost hadn’t found Rosantine’s in time. But Solomon had found Dante’s.
“Dante has to know theKey of Solomonis out there,” Petra said. “So he doesn’t care that we know who he is.”
“He’s not afraid of us,” Theo said, sliding a pencil into the end of his cast to scratch his arm. “Doesn’t care if we know his sigil, which is basically the key to his destruction.”
Problem was, controlling a demon wasn’t easy even if you had a sigil. It had taken me, Petra, Lulu, our necromancer friend Ariel, and a cadre of shifters to kick Rosantine out of this world, and we’d only barely managed it. The stronger the demon, the harder to control.
You didn’t have to fight demons with magic, of course. You could fight them physically, but with rank-and-file soldiers that wasn’t going to be easy.
Me,monster insisted, putting up enough of a metaphysical fight that my vision momentarily doubled.
Stop,I told it, and put magic behind the order—a moment too late to remember that I was just magicking myself.
“You okay?” Theo asked, and offered his pencil.
Petra watched me with narrow-eyed curiosity, but didn’t say anything.
“Fine,” I said, and rubbed my temples. “Demon-induced migraine.” I drank some water and waited for things to stabilize.
“So, what are we going to do about him?” Theo asked.
“I’ll check in with the mayor,” Roger said. “If she wants to kick them out, we need the legal backing. If she wants to incarcerate them, we’re going to need the right gear.”
“I want to look at this New York angle,” Petra said. “If you have a demon—and a duke at that—living it up in New York with his demonness, someone had to have noticed.”
“Not if they were assimilated,” Roger pointed out. “Demons don’t exactly have a good relationship with humans—especially theologically. Good reason not to advertise where the power is coming from.”
Theo nodded. “Maybe makes you feel bigger if you don’t tell them about the magic. All those humans just think you’re a very capable man.”
“Or a very capable mafioso,” I said. “And he isn’t hiding it here. Does he think he has a free pass because of Rosantine?”
“I’m going to find out,” Petra said. “And maybe that will give us some ammunition to get him out.”
Maybe it would.
But who was in line behind him?
* * *
That question was excellent motivation for me to check with the sorcerers on the wards.
“We have a problem,” Aunt Mallory said when she answered my call.
“No problems today. Only opportunities. What’s wrong?”
“The machine is repaired. The spell has been kindled here and at South Gate. But they aren’t powering up.”
