A Demon’s Book Of Shadows (Witches & Demons #1)

4. Amon

4

Amo n

Harassing a witch who wasn’t practicing magic to turn over a grimoire should not be this fucking difficult. I could feel the Bone Threader's bony fingers turning sharper against my ribs by the day. Soon, they would be claws, gripping and shredding my shadows until I had no other option than to decay.

Spooking Lucy into tipping me off where the grimoire was hiding wasn’t going to work. But I would wear her down. It might take a little more time than I wanted, but she would eventually cave in. Like Zed said, I had two other brothers who had my back and were willing to help me.

I walked a few paces down the sidewalk, pausing when the cracks in the pavement expanded and contracted in my periphery.

Once. Twice. Three times, the ground flexed beneath me.

The restless energies of the earth were breathing. With each undulating breath, my shadow wilted. I could feel magical suppression miles away. A thick, strangulating energy tugged at my navel, a drain witches often blamed on vampires was really their subconscious lack of magical creativity. Something was draining Lucy’s energy, therefore, drawing her focus away from me .

There was nothing more powerful—and dangerous—than a witch who was running from her own magic.

I hadn’t lied when I told her there were others that would threaten her regarding the grimoire. Green vampires were notoriously just as dangerous as their blood-sucking cousins. As soon as one got wind of the grimoire’s location, they’d be swarming her library. Green vampires drained their victim’s energy, not blood. They’d been known to dry up a witch or a demon’s magic completely.

If Lucy had intentionally suppressed her magic for this long, she would be an easy target for the green vampire who still haunted me. The archives where grimoires were located weren’t like any normal library. The books all had their place. Remove one of them for too long was like robbing a grave.

Why the Bone Threader wanted this grimoire in particular, was due to the fact that he had not created it. The text was a testament to my father’s passion for preserving demonkind, and my mother’s exceptionally brilliant magic. The grimoire threatened the Bone Threader. The fact that it was gone meant that another witch could come into its possession. There was always a chance that my mother’s magic would rub off on another witch. To ancient greedy demons like wendigos, that could spell disaster for their ravenous, cannibalistic appetites for magic and demon flesh.

The sun faded quickly on the horizon. I had some time to kill between Zed’s next graveyard shift, where he literally did dig graves. I took to the night like a bat, my shadow becoming swift and membranous. Branching over the rooftops, I was nothing but a willow-the-wisp as the wind caught me and sent me adrift .

The old Victorian house where Lucy lived was only a few blocks over. The energy drain from her section of the neighborhood tugged me closer.

I coalesced, my shadow dipping down to the first of at least a dozen hazy windows. Peering inside, I spotted a rather voluptuous woman laying half-naked atop her bed. Her face twisted in ecstasy as she glided a wand between her legs. Things had really changed in the past few years regarding a woman’s sexual gratification. More and more witches were using these vibrating wands on themselves instead of using them to cast spells. I'd been around for over three-hundred years, and the magic involved with sex had started to fade. I’d begun to wonder if men in general were starting to lack skills in the lovemaking ritual.

To the next window I went, drifting silently beside the house. A giant oak tree grew outside this window, forcing me to squeeze against knotted bark and gnarled branches. Lucy was inside the window, but she was not sleeping. Nor was she using the wand her sister was busy with. She sat up on her bed with the covers pulled up to her chest. She was doing what most librarians should be doing—reading.

But she wasn’t holding the the grimoire. As much as I wanted to accuse her of withholding the magical manuscript written by my parents from me, I was starting to wonder if I was making everything up. Maybe I’d become so desperate in my search to find my parent’s book of shadows, that I’d lost my mind. It wouldn’t be the first time my shadows deceived my sense of logic .

Green bursts of magic combusted into the air. A curtain shifted down over the window, blocking me from seeing what Lucy was reading.

The tree I perched on gave a nasty shake. Branches and leaves turned to vines as a tiny green bug began inching toward me.

“ Nice try, shadow boy . Go spy on some other familiar’s witch before I bite off your nose !”

The tree morphed and twisted as his earth magic shuddered through the bark. Luckily, all I had to do was drift away from the tree, detaching myself from the earth. The less connected to the earth I was, the better defense I had against Lucy’s familiar. Her bookworm was connected to the earth, and the earth had always been the force that separated demons from witches. Even though he was no bigger than my pinky, the feisty little fucker was setting some earthly boundaries with me.

“ Go suck some other witches' energy and get lost ,” he griped.

“Did you just call me an energy vampire?”

“ I can think of some worse things to call you if you’d like .”

The tree branches whipped back and forth, one slicing through me.

I formed again—tendrils of thickening smog—only to be blown open by another assault of the violent movements from the tree. If someone walked down the sidewalk and witnessed the forces of nature and the underworld battling one another, they would see nothing but a spooky tree blowing in the breeze.

Finally, the wind settled, and I was solid enough to find my footing. I landed on the ground, which was exactly where the grubby little bookworm wanted me. With my feet planted in the soil, he could solidly hold his power over a demon.

A grunt escaped me. It sucked being at the bottom of the totem pole of the three magics.

Tree roots groaned as Grubs descended the tree. How ridiculously comical this was, watching him establish his earthly boundaries with me.

“This is going to take all night,” I teased, watching the familiar’s body tremble in season-splitting anger as he inched one centimeter at a time. Leaves clinging to the branches folded in on themselves as he finished his descent.

His kind had moods that could summon storms and earthquakes and anything that could otherwise set boundaries between the dead and the living. The earth was a powerful grounding force that separated shadow magic from the goddess.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the furious wriggling movements settled. Lucy’s beyond feisty familiar reared onto his multi-legged haunches, scrunching himself into an angry accordion of fury. “ Be gone, demon !” he bellowed, puffs of green issuing from his tiny mouth.

“You’re a lot fatter than what I remember at the library. Maybe you need to go on a diet.”

“ And you’re a lot more of a shit-head than most demons I’ve chased away .”

“Grouchy little maggot.”

Perpetual silence filled with lots of quivering. For such a tiny creature, he sure seemed to have a lot of pent up rage. “ You are hereby banished from the Crow residence. Now, away with you !” he barked, and the roots from the tree threatened to trip me.

This angry little maggot wasn’t stepping down without a heavy dose of negotiating.

“Wait a fat second,” I barked, holding my ground, which was starting to put off an awful scent of rot.

The roots flattened as Grubs trembled ever so slightly. Mushrooms sprouted from the earth, releasing spores as soon as their fruiting bodies bloom into the night.

“ State your name, or leave,” Grubs growled, sending more mushrooms sprouting at my feet. The energy shifted, and I swore, the little worm was trying to cast a spell on me. “ You know earth magic will always be more powerful than shadow magic. It is the earth that provides women with the energy that makes her a witch .”

“Only in the old teachings,” I countered.

“ Like demons follow the old teachings .”

I bit my tongue. I also happened to know that this annoying little bookworm was preparing to metamorphose. Familiars followed nature’s cycles just as much as the earthly magic they wielded did. When he was locked up in his cocoon, he wouldn't be there to slide in and block my shadows from coalescing around Lucy.

I’d find the grimoire before the wendigo devoured my shadows come midnight of Halloween.