Page 29 of Spit

“Magicktec?” I squinted at the building at the end of the block. The glass had a strange coating that made it appear green in the mid-morning light. “I’ve heard of them. They sell weapons that work against demons. Why would the demons let them have a building in the Red City?”

“Magicktec offered a vast amount of money and disclosure of their latest research. Currently, they are attempting to create a Viagra substitute using demon magic.” Mr. Legion’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the building with pinpoint focus.

“And you think your missing colleagues wound up there?” I asked.

“Various members of the coven in my employ have scryed. Each time, the result brings us to this street.” He said. “There are three buildings in the Human Sector that we have flagged, but the Magicktek building has such strong wards that I felt it needed investigation.”

“You can’t go in there and ask?” I surmised.

“No.” the word had weight, but it wasn’t derisive. He wasn’t mocking me for asking the question. “There are no such things as warrants in the Red City. The Steward should be able to walk into any building without censure. Still, the human sector is not in my jurisdiction, so my presence here is a grey area.”

“You said there was a ward?”

Mr. Legion glanced at the building, his glare enough that I was surprised it didn’t burn a hole in the doors. “Neither demon nor witch can get close; they end up turned around. Sickened. Such wards are frowned upon in the Red City. In theory, the Red City is the one place in the Human Realities where demons can roam free. Even if there are wards, they typically function to keep demons inside the Red City or humans out of private areas that are too dangerous for them.”

“You said there were a few places of interest?” I asked. “Is this the only one that has a ward?”

“Yes,” Legion said through gritted teeth. “I required a null to break it.”

My shadow pricked up like a dog hearing the word ‘treat.’

“Every person that has attempted to enter the building…” Mr. Legion shook his head to clear it, and something akin to worry clouded his dark eyes. For a moment, he almost seemed human instead of a creature of darkness. Detached and above us mortals.

“They’re alive, aren’t they?” I asked.

“Yes.” He blinked. “Though for the first twenty-four hours, until the magic wore off, they wished they weren’t.”

“Okay.” I shook my hands the same way I did before I prepared to spar. “Let’s put this nasty ward to bed then.”

Mr. Legion stepped back from the sidewalk's edge to give me space. My finger twitched as I gave my shadow the order to go ham on whatever ward surrounded the Magicktek building.

I didn’t need to tell Shadow twice. He raced forward as if he hadn’t eaten in days, though I still felt the witches magic churning inside me, waiting for my body to absorb it.

I looked both ways before jaywalking across the street. I focused on the building, my steps sure as my steel-toe-capped boots thumped against the concrete.

Though the sun beat down overhead, casting shadows from the cars parked sparsely on the street, my own shadow was long gone.

I felt a small amount of resistance as I reached the doors of Magicktek. They swished open, revealing concrete floors with strange runes carved into the floor like geometric patterns. Similar to the walls that surrounded the Red City.

Demons had an innate language called Cyclian. It was made up of circles and harsh lines—whatever had been carved into the floor of the Magicktek reception was not Cyclian. In fact, it didn’t even register as magic at all.

Pain built behind my eyes as I stepped through the threshold. Something tugged at my insides, responding to whatever lived inside of me that made me a witch. The little kernel of light at the core of my being.

Though I had walked through the door, my shadow stood at the glass. Casting darkness against the front of the building as it sought to enter. It couldn’t.

The runes on the floor tasted like salt in abundance. Too much. My nose wrinkled as my null abilities rose, and tried to absorb the magic.

I wasn’t sure how successful I was, but I didn’t feel like I had gone mad or was being eaten alive by ants—so it seemed like I had gotten through the ward unscathed.

I crossed the reception like a woman going to war, marching to the desk at the room's far end. Dozens of portrait televisions played the same video of smiling people gallivanting about.

The receptionist fixed me with a bright smile. Her blonde hair was pulled back into an artful chignon, and her makeup was perfectly rendered without flaws.

“Welcome to Magicktek. Where humanity and the unknown collide. Did you have an appointment?” her smile didn’t move, even as she spoke.

I glanced back to the street, trying to see Mr. Legion through the tinted windows. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Do you have a name or an extension number?” She asked.

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