heavy-duty protection as I approached.
She chanted four lines in Polish, and since I was finally in range to hear, I recorded it eidetically for reference. As she reached the end of each line, a booming clap thundered from her palm along with the colors violet, blue, red, and white, swirling around her in sequence like exuberant streamers in a gymnast’s floor exercise: “Jej misoc mnie ochrania, Jej odwaga czyni mnie nieustraszona, Jej potega dodaje mi sil, Dzieki jej mieosierdziu zyje!”
Malina translated them for me later and explained that each line was a spell in itself, affording her “certain strengths and protections” through the benediction of the Zoryas. Her words meant: By her love I am protected, By her courage I am made fearless, By her might I am made strong, By her mercy I am spared.
When Malina finished, there was an impenetrable yet translucent shield around her, and she looked like she was just getting warmed up. It was far beyond the conic wards I’d seen from Bogumila and Klaudia.
Rabbi Yosef’s crazy squid beard had seen enough; the tentacles quailed and would go no further. They started to retreat, rolling up quickly into the rabbi’s face as he considered how to deal with a far more accomplished witch, then he startled and took a step back as he saw me coming, covered in the gore of witches and demons and my own blood, with Fragarach held ready in my hand. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t say hello, just raised my sword to his throat and said, “Freagroidh tu.” He froze up in the blue glow of the spell and started spluttering something at me in Russian. “You will not speak except to answer my questions,” I said, and he promptly shut up.
“Thank you, Atticus, that will make this so much simpler,” Malina said.
“No, stop,” I told her, as she was gearing up to lay him out. “I need to talk to him first.”
“He must pay for Bogumila’s death!” Malina blazed from behind her shield.
“Yes, he must. But first he will speak plainly to me for the first time. What is the name of your organization, sir?”
He fought it, of course, but eventually he said, “The Hammers of God.” Understanding clicked in my head. That stylized P on the hilt of his knife had been a hammer.
“Where is Father Gregory tonight?”
“He is on a plane back to Moscow.”
“How many are in your organization?”
“I do not know the exact number.”
“Give me your best guess. How many might show up to avenge you should you disappear tonight?”
“At least twenty Kabbalist fighters like me. That is standard when one of us disappears. But they may send more if they think the threat warrants it.”
I turned to Malina with a wry grin. “It is prudent that we stopped to chat, is it not?”
“He still must pay,” she insisted, as Klaudia, Kazimiera, Berta, and Roksana raced to join us and surround him.
“You want to face twenty or more of him?” I asked.
“He is lying about that.”
I shook my head. “You’ve experienced this spell yourself, Malina. He cannot lie. Perhaps there is another way we can make him pay yet avoid a confrontation that may lead to more bloodshed on our side.”
Malina clearly found this suggestion distasteful. She wanted to kill his ass right then and there. “What do you propose?”
“Take a few nice locks of his hair while I’ve got him here. He’ll know he’s in your power then. You can send him some explosive diarrhea or something like that, something painful and humiliating yet short of death, and you can also set up a dead man’s enchantment so that if you die, he dies too. And then we’ll explain to him, in small words, how he killed a very nice witch who was trying to help us kill all the evil witches upstairs, and he and his Hammers of God should just leave us the hell alone from now on, because we have the East Valley well under control.”
Malina weighed my words. She knew that she was more than a match for the rabbi, but he’d been stronger than Bogumila. Twenty more of him against the five remaining members of her coven weren’t good odds, and she understood this. She agreed, albeit with great reluctance, and dispelled the light show swirling around her. Her sisters accepted the decision without comment, but I could tell they didn’t like it either.
“There, Rabbi, you see?” I said. “Heinous witches don’t let asspuppets like you live. Only merciful ones who understand, like me, that you’re trying to do the right thing but you’re just too dim to understand what it is. So we’re going to show you. Right after Malina takes some of your hair.”
Malina flipped off his hat and tore a giant handful from his scalp, stuffing it into the pocket of her leather jacket. We all enjoyed his pain. Then I released the rabbi from Fragarach, bound his sleeves firmly behind him in a similar fashion to what I’d done in my shop, and we led him through the building and explained how we’d completely eliminated die Tochter des dritten Hauses, a coven that had hunted Kabbalists like him for centuries. While he was busy fighting Bogumila, Malina had personally taken care of a large demon ram and another in utero. Klaudia had eliminated two more. Leif and I had accounted for the rest between us (I confirmed that we had slain twenty-two), and the vampire disdained demonkind so much that he’d refused to sink his fangs into any of the witches.
To the rabbi’s frothing accusations, I replied that, yes, I tended to enjoy the company of vampires and werewolves and witches, because all the ones I knew were extraordinarily well scrubbed and had fantastic taste in automobiles; but none of us suffered a scrap of hell to dwell in our territory unmolested, and we had, in fact, been far more effective against them than the Hammers of God had been so far. So please you, good rabbi, get the fuck out of our town and stay out.
He agreed to leave, albeit with much grumbling and resentment. I figured it was even money he’d come back with friends. We did not wish him farewell.
I found my missing teeth and felt certain I could heal them back into place with a good night’s sleep on the earth. I recovered Moralltach and its scabbard near the hole in the floor. Of Leif, however, there was no sign.
Malina joined me at the spot where I’d seen him leap from the building. We looked down at the the rocky landscaping below and saw no sign of disturbance there.
“I’m so sorry about Bogumila,” I said to her in low tones. “And Waclawa.” I said nothing about Radomila or Emily or any of the others who’d died in the Superstitions.
“Thank you,” she said, almost too quiet to hear.
“Did you chance to see what happened to Leif?” I asked.
“I saw him fall,” Malina said, sniffling a bit. She wiped at the corner of her eyes and nodded. “He was right between me and Bogumila. I don’t think the rabbi even noticed, though how he could miss a flaming vampire is beyond me. He ran east down Pecos; that was the last I saw of him. I remained at my station in case any more hexen fell down.”
I looked off toward the east. Lights on the north side of the road indicated buildings, but, after a few lots down on our side of the street, there was nothing but darkness.
“East, you say? Is that undeveloped land over there?” I pointed.
“I don’t know,” Malina said. “We should probably check it out.”
Antoine’s refrigerated truck rolled into the parking lot as our small convoy of sports cars pulled out onto Pecos, steering carefully around the golem’s head that Leif had thrown through the roof. Bogumila’s body was bundled gently into Roksana’s Mercedes. We waved and wished Antoine and his ghouls bon appetit. His gang would have the place cleaned up before sunrise, leaving nothing but property damage and a large pile of rocks behind for the police to wonder over.
I was riding with Malina and Klaudia in the Audi. Klaudia sat on my lap, her torso twisted around to face me and a leather-clad arm draped around my shoulder. With her other hand, she was caressing my injured jaw with a delicate tip of a fingernail. She made cooing sounds of sympathy, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her lips.
“Klaudia, stop that,” Malina said. “Now is not the time to tease Mr. O’Sullivan.”
My head cleared immediately, and I shuddered at Klaudia’s knowing smile. She had enchanted her lips like Malina did her hair.
I was glad the ride would be brief; Klaudia had discovered a loophole in our nonaggression treaty already. It was the second time an attraction charm of the Polish witches had worked on me. My amulet had eventually shut down Malina’s, and I had no doubt it would have done the same to Klaudia’s, but in each case it had worked long enough for them to do me harm if they had wished it.
“It’s all right,” Klaudia said brightly. “I think he and I understand each other.” She patted my chest with the
