Page 37 of Brimstone and Broomsticks
“We can’t cast spells, but we can lend our power to witches as they cast spells. Like what you did with your sister in the hotel room when she did her divination? It’s the same, only more. With my help, your spells will be more powerful.” I eyed the books on the shelf. Most of them were mysteries and romance novels with a few biographies. “What sort of research are you going to do? Demons are also very helpful in information gathering and research. That’s one of the main reasons witches summon us.”
She tilted her head, relaxing noticeably. “I’ve never known witches to summon demons. How does that work, exactly? Does it piss you guys off when that happens? I’d be furious if I was in the middle of a hot shower and bam, I’m all naked and sudsy in front of twelve witches.”
I laughed. “I’d pay good money to see that. Yes, sometimes the summoning is inconvenient, but it’s usually welcome. We make a big fuss about it all, threatening stuff and telling the coven we’re not going to help them, but in reality, partnering with a coven on a spell or sharing information with them is a rush. Partnering with a single witch long term? That’s something every demon dreams of. Especially if that partnership carries an emotional and physical bond. But the burning times came close to killing all the witches off. Few remain, and those that do don’t summon demons.”
“I didn’t summon you.” Her voice was soft, her gaze tentative as she lifted those dark brown eyes to meet mine.
“No, but I would welcome a partnership with you, Cassandra Nicole Perkins.” It felt like equivalent of a marriage proposal. In a way, I guess it was.
“Because I’m a witch and there aren’t many of us left?”
“Because you’re smart, funny, powerful, and beautiful. Because as ancient as I am, I know that the pair of us together would be an amazing thing. Because I can’t think of a better way to spend eternity than by your side.”
She bit her lip. “I just met you.”
I held very still, afraid that if I moved toward her, I’d ruin whatever tentative thing there was between us. “For a demon, I’m amazingly patient. Take your time, Cassie. I’ll wait for you to decide.”
“And if I’m eighty when I finally decide?” That teasing smile curled up the corner of her lips.
“Then I’ll be partnering with an eighty-year-old witch, and loving every minute of it.”
She laughed, then pointed up the stairs. “I was going to do research on demons and witches, but I also wanted to find out some history on the werewolves in Accident. Bronwyn mentioned that there’s some unrest—well, more unrest than usual. If there’s going to be another alpha war, then I’d like to see how Grandma handled the last one in the sixties. From her journals.”
“Well, I can’t help with that, but I can see what you’ve got in your kitchen and make us a late-night snack while you read.”
Any remaining nervousness vanished at my words. “Good luck with that. I’ll be up in the attic—there’s a ladder through the back bedroom upstairs. Come on up with whatever moldy crackers and expired milk you manage to find.”
I quickly discovered that she wasn’t kidding about the food. There was a nearly empty container of ice cream that looked as if it had thawed and been refrozen. Canned goods. Some pasta and rice in a cupboard. I wasn’t all that skilled at cooking, but I managed to whip together a decent pasta primavera with canned veggies and the last of the milk. What I did find was a wine rack filled with bottles. Grabbing a red blend and a couple of glasses, I balanced it all in my arms and headed upstairs, managing to not drop anything as I climbed the ladder to the attic.
Cassie was cross-legged on the floor of the attic, her auburn hair twisted up into a messy bun on top of her head. There was a journal open on her lap, full of cursive writing.
She glanced up at me with a smile. “Smells good, whatever it is.”
“Pasta.” I sat the bowl down and handed her a fork before dropping to sit next to her. “Hope you drink your coffee black because I used the last of the milk.”
“There’s some non-dairy stuff somewhere.” She dug into the pasta while I opened the wine. “Yum. This is pretty good for cobbled-together late-night dinner. These canned peas?”
“No, I quickly grew some in a garden out back,” I teased. “Of course they’re canned. Don’t you have any fresh fruit or vegetables in this house at all?”
“I buy them, and by the time I go to eat them they’re rotted. So why bother?” She took the glass of wine I handed her and sipped it. Looking back down at the journal. “This is…well, kind of hard to read. You get a certain idea in your head about your parents and grandparents, then find out they weren’t quite who you thought they were. It’s strange.”
“So Grandma was a swinger? Snorted coke and had orgies with vampires in the back bedroom while you all were asleep? That sort of thing?”
She shot me an odd look. “Uh, no. I always thought she was this powerful witch, and here she’s worrying about the werewolves and the violence up on the mountain, worried that she can’t control them or contain it if they start bringing that violence into the town itself. She was struggling just to hold everything together. All by herself. Mom wasn’t at all a powerful witch. I’d always thought she was just a loser who bailed on us when Grandma died because she didn’t want the responsibility, but reading this…I think she was afraid. I think without Grandma here, she was worried she couldn’t manage things on her own.”
“That’s a lousy excuse for abandoning seven kids,” I told her.
Cassie shrugged. “You’re right. But it’s still a side of her I never considered.”
“You’ve got power.” I tapped her wine glass with mine. “I can see it, feel it. You’ve got the strength to safeguard the town, to keep the werewolves in line. Especially with me by your side.”
She snorted. “And if you decide not to stick around?”
“First, I’ve already made the offer and I’m not backing out on that. You say the word, and I’m here, with you, for as long as you want. Second, you can absolutely hold your own against those werewolves without my help. It won’t be easy or painless, but you can do it. Don’t doubt yourself. I didn’t know your grandmother, but if she had anywhere near your power, she wouldn’t have been having issues with the wolves on the mountain.”
“Not sure I believe you on that one, but we’ll have to agree to disagree.” She flipped a page and pointed down at the swirled writing. “This is what really bothers me. Grandma didn’t like that the werewolves were able to live under pack law and not the laws of our town, but she didn’t feel strong enough to push the issue. The alpha battles…she said in here that some of them weren’t legitimate.”
“That they were using the excuse of alpha challenges to cover up illegal murders?”
