Ritual of the Broken (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 25

Chapter

Twenty-Five

O llie turned his pants the correct way out in the bathroom, then walked back and set the plain wooden box at the center of the dinette table.

He glanced up at Adrian and Mary Ann, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “All right, you two need to stand back. Maybe even leave the room. Or the apartment.”

Adrian’s brow furrowed. “Why? What’s in that thing?”

Ollie took a deep breath, steeling himself for Adrian’s reaction. “A demon.”

“A what ?” Adrian’s eyes widened, his body tensing as if ready for combat. “Absolutely not, Ollie. We’re not messing around with demons.”

“Demon. Singular,” Ollie said.

“Wait a minute.” Mary Ann held up her hands and walked in between Ollie and Adrian. She turned on Ollie with her hands on her hips. “You mean to tell me you had me casually walk into the store, go into your office, and carry that thing out like it was a simple piece of merchandise, and now you’re saying it’s a demon?”

“It’s just a lesser demon,” Ollie tried to explain, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Relatively harmless, but it serves our purpose.” That wasn’t exactly true. No demon was harmless.

“It’s a demon, Ollie!” Mary Ann threw up her hands. “I just found out magic really exists. Today! And even I know demons are bad.”

Adrian shook his head vehemently. “She’s right. There’s no way. Demons are dangerous, period. I’m not taking that risk.”

Ollie put his hands on both their shoulders in as friendly a gesture as possible. He needed to make them understand this was going to work. “Listen to me, both of you. A lesser demon can only corrupt lesser-willed mortals. I’m not a lesser-willed mortal, and neither are you. I can control it.”

Adrian’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and Mary Ann looked honestly angry. Ollie pressed on, his voice calm and reassuring.

“This is how we give Isabell the power to manifest more strongly in the mortal realm. She can draw strength from our emotions—from my emotions—and demons are masters at influencing the emotions of those around them. If I release the demon and force it to turn its attention toward me, it will stir up emotions within me to give Isabell the energy she needs to materialize.”

“You want to unleash a demon in my apartment,” Mary Ann said.

“I’m going to put it back.”

Adrian crossed his arms, unconvinced. “That’s reassuring. You just tried to put our clothes back on and summoned an entire thrift store rack into Mary Ann’s apartment.”

“And don’t think that conversation is over with yet either,” Mary Ann added.

“Now you want to use magic to control a demon,” Adrian continued. “How do we know you’re not going to end up summoning a bunch of demons, plural, in the process?”

Ollie turned on Adrian then. Anger flared in his chest. “I know what I’m doing! Just because my magic gets a little overwhelming sometimes doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cast a spell. As I recall, I’ve gotten us out of some freaky situations, and we only met on Tuesday. I’m a mage. I’ve been trained to use magic since I was able to speak. There’s even an entire semester on infernal entities and methods of control. I got an A in that class. So don’t question my ability to control a fucking demon!”

Mary Ann’s face was honest surprise. Ollie had never raised his voice at her before. But Adrian stared at him with an expression that Ollie wasn’t sure was anger or shock. He was honestly a little shocked at himself. Not even twenty minutes ago, he was doing things to Adrian with his tongue, and now all he wanted to do was turn around and leave the apartment.

His magic was odd. He’d learned to deal with it. And most of the time, his magic worked just fine. But other times, it flared up inside him, almost as if coming from someplace deeper, a place he’d never been trained to reach, much less control. And that’s when he found himself teleported or had random clothes materialize out of thin air. There was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t easy being reminded of his odd inability to control his magic sometimes. In fact, it pissed him off to hear others talk about it. But maybe that was because Emmerich reveled in bringing it up toward the end of their relationship.

Adrian surprised him by putting his hands on Ollie’s shoulders and meeting his gaze. Even though Ollie wanted to be mad at him, he found it hard when he looked into Adrian’s eyes.

“I think it’s insane, Ollie,” Adrian said. “That’s all. Werewolves don’t deal with demons too much, but there are histories and legends shared among the packs. From everything I’ve heard and know, you’re playing with forces you can’t control.”

“I can control it, Adrian. You have to trust me,” Ollie said, his own eyes steely.

A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of their breathing. Finally, Adrian exhaled a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly .

“Fine. But at the first sign of trouble, we’re shutting this down.”

Relief washed over Ollie, and he offered Adrian a grateful nod. “Agreed.” He turned to Mary Ann. “I’ll need salt.”

Mary Ann stared at him a moment. “That’s it? Salt? You’re summoning a demon. I thought it would take candles, blood sacrifices, pentagrams, and other stuff like that.”

Ollie gave her a wry stare. “Are you offering yourself up as a blood sacrifice?”

“No!” Mary Ann looked surprised, maybe a little scared, and Ollie felt guilty.

“Then just get me the salt.”

She stalked into her galley kitchen and pulled a canister of table salt from a cabinet that she put on the table next to Ollie. “You fill my apartment with demons, you’re going to pay the rent on my new place for the next decade.”

Ollie smiled at her. “Agreed.”

That caught her off guard, and she stomped with her heavy shoes over to where Adrian stood, her black dress whispering her protest as she walked.

“And for those interested, we’re not summoning a demon. It’s already here.” He pointed to the box. “I’m just going to open the box and let it out. Salt will keep it contained.”

“That’s super reassuring,” Mary Ann muttered under her breath .

“Like I said, you both can leave. It might be better that way.”

Mary Ann crossed her arms. “You think I’m going to miss the chance to see a demon?”

Ollie shrugged. He glanced at Adrian, and it was clear Adrian wasn’t going anywhere either. “All right, then.”

First, he retrieved a box of wooden matches from his bag and put it on the table. Then he carefully poured a circle of salt on the floor. The granules fell in an even line, forming an unbroken loop that would serve as the first line of defense against the demon’s influence. And they would keep the demon itself contained.

Stones and other trinkets didn’t hold a lot of special power, but for some reason, salt was still potent against demons. There were studies done by Synod mages, but Ollie had never read any of them. He just knew salt was supposed to work. Then he took a piece of chalk and drew runes at the cardinal points of the circle. It was Gedonian, a small, obscure ancient culture known for working with demons. Which, it occurred to him as he drew the runes that perhaps that was the reason why they were a small, obscure culture. Still, he stepped back, checking his handiwork with a critical eye before giving a satisfied nod.

His eyes fell upon the plain wooden box on the table. It appeared utterly unremarkable—a simple cube of polished oak, devoid of any markings or embellishments. Yet Ollie knew better. The inscriptions inside were a prison to keep the malevolent force contained within.

The demon had been imprisoned by a Hartley over two-thousand years ago. The entries described how the demon had been trapped by Publius Aelius, back during the Roman Empire when the Hartley name was Cervidus. Cervidus translated to “stag” or “deer,” which, when the family moved to Brittania as mages of the Roman Legion, became Hartley after Emperor Honorius ended Roman rule in the British Isles. That was how long this demon had been trapped.

And that was how long the box had been handed down in Ollie’s family, protected by magic woven into the sigils to keep the wood strong, gleaming like it was newly hewn from the Elder tree it was carved from.

All of this was written in the Hartley grimoire. When he read those passages long ago, back when Ollie first started his journey into learning magic, he resolved never to touch the wooden box.

And now, here he was, ready to work the puzzle of inlaid wood that kept the box locked tight.

He picked up the box and kept it over the circle of salt. Ollie’s fingers traced the smooth surface until he felt the spot where the wood gave slightly beneath the pressure of his thumb. But he stopped himself and placed the box back in the center of the salt circle.

Turning back to face Adrian and Mary Ann, they both watched him with wide eyes. Adrian looked half a second away from letting his wolf take over. He couldn’t blame them. Adrian wasn’t wrong: Dealing with demons was potentially perilous, even for the most seasoned of mages. He’d kept that part quiet when trying to convince them that this was a good idea.

“You can both still leave. It might be best.”

In answer, Adrian crossed his arms and stared at Ollie with his mouth in a grim line. Mary Ann stared too, and she did a thing with her hand to say he should get on with it.

“Okay then. The demon’s name is Lamaxtu,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “If anything goes wrong, knowing its true name will give us a measure of control over it. It’s important you say the name exactly as I pronounced it to you.”

Mary Ann’s eyes widened, her lips parting as if to protest, but Ollie raised a hand to forestall her objection. “You said nothing is going to go wrong, right?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty lacing her words.

Ollie offered her a reassuring smile, though his heart thrummed with a mix of exhilaration and unease. “Right.”

He met Adrian’s gaze, and the glint he saw in his eyes said he could smell Ollie’s nerves. Ollie thought maybe he could smell his own nerves in that moment. Still, he forced another smile onto his face and gave Adrian a wink before turning back to the box.

With a deep, steadying breath, he lifted the box again. The puzzle of the box was meant to confound the demon. Demons were unable to resist puzzles, and it made Lamaxtu’s potential exit more difficult because the puzzle was unsolvable from the inside. Ollie pushed on the first mechanism in the box and worked the puzzle. It wasn’t an easy one. The gears and tumblers inside it were made of material not of this plane, and it took many steps just to get past the first layer of the box’s locks. But it moved fluidly, as if it had just been assembled and locked into place far less than nearly two thousand years prior.

He knew the puzzle, of course. It was explained in every detail in the family’s grimoire, meant only for Hartley eyes. And he’d studied the passages. Only twice did he have to turn back and fix his mistakes in opening the box. As he turned and pressed parts of the box, changing its shape into something that seemed like it shouldn’t fit the size of the box, the box seemed to come alive under his ministrations, its components shifting and realigning with a soft scrape of wood and metallic clicks.

As the final piece slid into place, Ollie felt a tremor of power ripple outward, a subtle thrum of energy that raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He dropped the box back into the center of the salt circle just as a black tendril oozed from a visible crease in the box and came to stop against the edge of the salt circle.

The demon Lamaxtu was loose, and now the true test began.

Ollie grabbed the box of matches and held one at the ready to strike.

It was quiet at first, the barest of whispers tickling the edges of Ollie’s consciousness. He shook his head to dislodge it. This was something he expected. Demons worked to enter the minds of those they contacted, especially lesser demons with no real form. But the voice grew louder, echoing as if from an unseen cavern.

“Oliver.”

That the demon knew his name was disconcerting.

Ollie met Adrian’s eyes, and he watched Adrian move toward him, stepping closer as if to offer protection. But even as he did that, Adrian growled, a low, guttural sound, and he looked around as though he’d lost track of where he was. His skin began to crawl as if something moved underneath.

Ollie’s eyes flicked toward Mary Ann, and he caught her staring forward as if seeing miles away. A trance state. She seemed to shake herself just as Adrian started to shift his form.

They were both falling under Lamaxtu’s influence.

Ollie hurriedly struck the match and dropped it on the line of salt before reaching for another. The match flared to life as he lit it, and the circle became a thin, wavering line of flame. Another, then another, the matches struck and dropped as Ollie desperately tried to reinforce the circle.

“Oliver,” Lamaxtu whispered again, and this time it was inside his head. “You know who I am.”

A chill ran down Ollie’s spine, and this time, he answered the voice. “Lamaxtu.” He hoped saying the demon’s name would give him some modicum of control.

The flame that traced the salt circle sputtered and died with a rushing sigh of air, and only the thin line of salt was left to hold the demon inside its circle. The voice came again, this time with a smile that Ollie didn’t hear but rather felt, like fingers gently caressing his brain.

“We are connected, you and I.”

No, it wasn’t true. Demons lie. Ollie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the voice. But it was everywhere, and it revealed things to him. They poured into his consciousness like an open faucet—memories from his past, incidents with his magic that left him humiliated, faces of Synod elders who told him power was wasted on one such as him, and his family’s infamous legacy that carried the weight of dark magic. The incidents in school, the classroom full of shattered glass, the minor temporal anomaly that trapped him for what felt like an eternity in a time loop.

“You can’t control it, Oliver. And it’s only going to get worse. But I can help you with that. I can give you control.”

The voice was soft and gentle, a soothing whisper against the rising tide of anxiety the memories stirred up. And why shouldn’t he give in to what the demon offered? Maybe it could give him control. Maybe he could finally master his magic.

He saw his mother, gone—her death never adequately explained. To him, it was clear who was behind it.

The Synod.

They took everything from him. His mother, his family, his name, his respect. And still, they haunted him with their control, their procedures, and their rules that kept him subservient and lesser than everyone else. But it didn’t have to be that way. He didn’t have to be at their mercy.

“Tell me what you want, and it’s yours,” the demon’s voice entered in his mind. “Name your desire.”

And then it hit him—a vision of Emmerich as he was during their breakup, packing his things and walking toward the door of their bedroom. “You’ll never make it as a mage,” Emmerich had said. “You have no future here.”

The anger surged through him, the impotent rage he felt every time he thought about it. Every time he was reminded of his inability to control magic. What were the rules put in place by mages compared to the power that could be his? Real power, the power to change everything, to make everyone bow before him. That was control.

And then the vision changed, and he saw Adrian’s face as he used his magic to make himself transparent, the face of wonder and confusion, and, more importantly, respect that Ollie saw there. Then it was covered with disappointment and a hint of fear once Adrian was able to see him again.

No, he didn’t need magic. He needed control. The demon would give that to him.

Elsewhere, Mary Ann screamed. Ollie only had time to note her pressed up against a wall in her living room, arms hugging herself as she thrashed back and forth, eyes closed, screaming the demon’s name: “Lamaxtu! Lamaxtu! Lamaxtu!”

“What do you want, Oliver?” the demon asked again.

Ollie opened his eyes and studied the dark column of black smoke that swirled within the circle of the salt, not unlike the dark entity they faced in the cemetery and he’d seen in his visions. This one, Lamaxtu, had eyes too. They met his gaze and lured Ollie in. A small part of him pushed back, fought against the demon’s urgings. But a larger part of him wanted to give in, to find the control he desperately sought.

The circle was weakening. It was a matter of time before the demon’s power washed over the salt entirely.

Lamaxtu chuckled, and the voice inside Ollie’s head tickled his brain like a serpent’s tongue. “It’s a simple request. Break the circle and let me in and you’ll have the control you so desire.”

Ollie watched Adrian. He was in full werewolf form now, preparing to face whatever was causing his distress. His eyes, burning with a feral light, locked with Ollie’s. The demon was controlling Adrian. Torturing him. Anger surged through Ollie, and he imagined all the things he could do to the demon with his magic fully under his control. This was his chance, and it started with a simple request.

He took a breath, and to his surprise, he found his voice choked with tears. He pushed them back. “Lamaxtu.”

Ollie’s words brought a smile to the demon’s face, a hideous twist of lips that revealed two rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Adrian roared, an unholy sound that shook the entire room, rattling the walls and windows. The salt circle flared with a flash of light as power arced through it, but Lamaxtu was undeterred. It lifted its arms, and the black tendrils of its aura began to coil around Ollie, inviting him into its embrace.

Everything about the demon screamed domination, but even as its tendrils drew him closer, another presence stirred within the room. A cold shiver ran down Ollie’s spine, and with it came a familiar sensation, a ghostly touch he’d come to recognize. And now, with what he knew, to welcome.

Isabell.

He recognized her strange aura immediately. The demon seemed to sense it too. Its tendrils retracted slightly as its gaze shifted, searching for the new threat.

Ollie ignored it, focusing instead on the spectral woman who appeared behind Adrian, her eyes fixed on Ollie. She placed a hand over her heart, and another extended toward him, a sad smile on her face.

And then, like turning a dial inside his mind, peace washed over him. It spread through his body, calming the tornado of emotions the demon had stirred up. It was the calm center of a storm, and through it, Ollie found the strength to resist.

The demon noticed, its eyes narrowing as it realized its prey was slipping away. Its aura wrapped around Ollie tighter, digging its claws into his consciousness, but Isabell merely raised her hand higher, unleashing a surge of power that filled the room with the scent of lavender and hyacinth and that slammed into the demon, shoving it against the barrier of salt.

Lamaxtu roared, a sound that reverberated through the walls, shaking the windows and causing the building to tremble. And then, with a final whisper that chilled Ollie to the core, the demon retreated from where it came. The box shifted and vibrated on the table as the locking mechanisms fell back into place and the octagonal shape became a simple wooden box once more.

But Lamaxtu didn’t go quietly. With a final gesture, it blew out the line of salt as the protective circle dissolved.

And there, in the middle of the room, stood Isabell.