Blood of the Demon

Laurent had mentioned campaign contributions, with a strong implication that there was something significant to be seen there.

Campaign contributions were public record and, thanks to the marvels of modern technology, were also available online. It took me a few tries to find the right website, but once I did I was rewarded with more information than I knew what to do with on every election and every candidate.

Narrowing my search to only the contributions made by Davis Sharp was far more enlightening. Stunning, in fact. Davis Sharp had contributed significantly to Judge Roth’s campaign fund—giving the maximum allowed by law, going at least ten years back. I quickly scanned through the rest of Sharp’s contributions. He’d supported various other candidates in other elections but none as much as Harris Roth.

I shifted my search parameters to look at all of Roth’s contributors. That list was impressively long, but Sharp’s name clearly stood out as Roth’s biggest contributor.

I bookmarked the page and shut my computer down. I had an extensive financial connection between Davis Sharp and Judge Roth now. But what did it mean? Judge Laurent had implied that Sharp wanted favors in return for contributions, so I could only assume that he’d expected—and received—the same from Roth. Especially considering how much money he’d given to his campaign fund.

I was out of ideas, and it was with a nearly visceral relief that I watched the sun slip below the trees. Now I could at least assuage the part of the guilt that nagged at me about Tessa, even if the rest of my psyche remained in hopeless shambles.

I showered and changed, then headed down to my basement. This was the last stage of the call to her essence—the “arcane transponder” that would hopefully draw her back to this plane and to her body. I knew that a great deal depended on to what extent her essence had been drained during the summoning, and I knew that at some point I would have to accept the possibility that I might never get her back.

But now isn’t the time to think like that, I told myself sternly. Now was the time for confidence in the ritual, total faith that it would be simply a matter of time before Tessa was back to normal. And then get her to explain about the damn portal. And get her to give me some damn guidance.

I sketched the final portion, cautiously crabbing around the complex diagram. I winced as I stood up, and it wasn’t all from the creak of my knees from crouching for so long. Was I depending too much on my aunt? But where else was I going to get the training I still needed?

Rhyzkahl, my thoughts whispered to me, sending an odd ripple of gooseflesh across my skin. I shuddered, rubbing my arms at the thought of being tied to him any more than I already was. I didn’t—couldn’t trust him. He was ancient and powerful and well skilled at lying without ever saying an untrue word.

Worry about that shit later, I railed at my psyche. Focus!

I took a deep breath and began to channel potency. After what was probably half an hour, I finally released the power, feeling it slide away into the diagram. I watched the diagram, nearly weeping in relief as it began to resonate. A heartbeat later, the resonance abruptly shifted into a hum—inaudible and powerful at the same time. I held my breath as the hum settled into a soft pulse, a sensation tickling over me that reminded me of everything that was Tessa.

It’s calling and reminding her who she is. Reminding her where she belongs.

I made my way over to the cold fireplace and collapsed into the chair. There was nothing more I could do now. Rhyzkahl had warned me that it could take a long time, but I had no idea how much time Tessa had. She was already declining. A knot of grief threatened to twist my insides. It was doubtful that her body would last more than a few weeks longer.

I tipped my head back, staring up at the rafters of the basement. It was only slightly more than a week ago that I’d summoned Rhyzkahl—but it felt like a year. I still had no idea whether I would summon him again. I turned my head with a sigh and looked over at the little circle with the remnants of my aunt’s items. I knew what she would say—that I’d be a complete fool to even consider it. But I had almost three weeks to make up my mind—and that was only if I decided to call him this next full moon.

The access to knowledge was unspeakably tempting, though I could well guess that there’d be limits on it. He would dole out his information as he saw fit in order to keep me wanting more.

I pushed up from the chair. At this point, anything was better than nothing. I had a feeling I’d be needing answers for a long time.

I looked over at the diagram containing the “beacon” for Tessa’s essence, feeling and seeing the thrum of power even without shifting fully into othersight. My eyes traveled over the twined wards. Now that they were active and complete, it wasn’t as confusing, and I could begin to see how they worked. I had basically channeled potency into the first diagram, and now the wards were slowly releasing it into the other circle to create this beacon.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked at the diagram, an odd new thought skimming through my head. If this diagram was actually storing potency, could that be done at other times as well? I could feel my breath quicken as I considered the implications of that possibility. Holy shit. This would mean that it’s possible to store potency without resorting to death magic. The Symbol Man had tortured and murdered his victims in order to amass enormous amounts of power—enough to summon and bind a demonic lord. The restrictions of the phase of the moon had always chafed at me but never enough to be willing to resort to such hideous methods. Summonings required a smooth and consistent flow of potency, and fluctuations or hiccups could prove disastrous when opening a portal. But if there was a way to gradually bleed power off into a diagram and then pull it back out for use … I reached for the back of the chair, the unspeakable elation nearly overwhelming.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. Could it really work without the blood of innocent victims? I wouldn’t have to worry about the phase of the moon at all. I could store potency in dribs and drabs throughout the month and then use that stored power at any time. Day, night, half-moon, no moon. Not only that, but it would be easier to summon the higher-level demons. Summonings were exhausting. The creation of the diagram was taxing enough, plus the effort of forming the wards, and then adding summoning on top required a huge amount of effort and concentration. The main reason higher-level demons were summoned only by very experienced summoners was that you had to be highly skilled in the forming of the portal to have strength left over to control the demon.

I scrubbed at my face, trying to keep everything in perspective. There would still be drawbacks. The convergence of the spheres was always a limiting factor, and I’d still have to negotiate terms in any summoning I performed, which in itself would limit how often I could summon.

I dug a piece of chalk out of the box where I kept my implements, then I moved to an open space on the basement floor, well away from Tessa’s diagram. I didn’t want to do anything that could interfere with that one. I crouched and began slowly sketching, thinking carefully about how to adjust the ward structure of Tessa’s diagram for what I wanted.

It took well over an hour, and my back and knees were aching when I finally closed the diagram. I set the chalk down and brushed my hands off, then stood stiffly. I’d had to redo parts of it several times, going by pure I-think-this-makes-sense instinct. I could only hope that my instinct was on track. I scrutinized the diagram meticulously, looking for any remaining flaws.

Now to test it. A small test—just to see if I had any clue at all or if I was trying to do something that couldn’t be done.

I took a deep breath and pulled potency to me. The power dribbled into my control in small erratic bursts, exactly as it had with Tessa’s beacon. For a summoning, it would have been disastrous, but I didn’t need it to be steady and strong since I wasn’t relying on it to hold protections or bindings or anything else. I only needed it to go into the warded diagram. Focusing, I slowly released the potency down into the diagram, watching as it filled the structure, settling into the wards like a blend of light and water, visible as a shimmering brilliance to othersight.

I finally released the diagram from my control. I hadn’t pulled much power—there wasn’t much to be pulled—but as far as I could tell it was staying in the diagram, exactly where I’d channeled it.

“Holy shit,” I said, giddy. I made an arcane battery! And without all that messy murder and torture business!

I watched the diagram obsessively for nearly half an hour, then decided that it seemed to be holding the power. The next question was, how much would it hold? Enough for a summoning? And could I then draw that potency out steadily enough to use it effectively?

I focused and channeled another small surge of potency into the diagram, deeply pleased when it settled in, like honey poured into a half-full bowl.

This was too fucking cool. I scrutinized my “arcane battery” again, finally feeling a measure of confidence that the diagram was holding steady. It was tempting to see just how much this diagram could hold, but I forced myself to hold back, at least for now. I could sense that there was more potency after the second time I’d channeled the power and that there was room for some more, but there was no point in testing the storage capacity at this time. The big test would be whether I could use that potency.

I glanced over at Tessa’s beacon, satisfied that it was still sending out its arcane call, then climbed the stairs and locked the basement door behind me. The worst that could happen if the diagram could not hold the power overnight would be that it would trickle away, back into the normal power structure of this sphere.

And if it was still there, and usable, by morning, then this whole summoning gig would suddenly be about a thousand times easier.

Chapter 22

As soon as I woke up the next morning, I ran downstairs to check my storage diagram. Even before coffee—which for me was a major deal. The basement was stuffy and hot, but I barely noticed. The potency still lay pooled in the diagram, thrumming softly to senses beyond hearing. “Hot damn, I am good,” I murmured, grinning like an idiot.

Now, could I use it? I rubbed my hands together gleefully in my best mad scientist impression and ignored my body’s demand for coffee and food. I took a deep breath to focus and pulled the potency from the diagram—slowly at first, then with more certainty, until I could feel the power coiling and crackling around me. I laughed as I felt the potency respond in shimmering undulations. It was only a couple of hours after dawn, at a time of the month when potency was erratic and hard to pull, and here I was with smooth and solid power at my disposal.

I toyed with the power for a while, practiced sending it back into the diagram and pulling it out again, my understanding of the wards deepening as I watched how the power flowed. I could see ways that the structure could be adjusted to hold power more efficiently or altered to allow for different uses.

I could also see why it was very likely that no one had figured this trick out before. Without that crucial component of the ward that was used in the beacon, this wouldn’t work. And how often does a summoner get the chance to glean knowledge from a demonic lord? My skill at warding was novice at best, but I could still see that this ward was the sort of thing that only someone who was a “twelfth dan grandmaster” would be able to figure out. And Rhyzkahl had given it to me. Did he know the other ways it could be used?

I reluctantly released the power back into the diagram one more time, then broke contact with it, exhaling as the power settled into the shining wards. The next true test would be to attempt a summoning using stored power. And a dangerous test as well, I reminded myself. If I screwed up with a summoning, I wouldn’t lose only the stored power, I’d lose body parts. I’ll be sticking to a lower-level demon, that’s for sure. Just like when I was beginning to learn how to summon.

But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for coffee. I hauled myself upstairs, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit me. Sure, the power was there at my disposal and it was far easier to draw it out of the diagram than out of this sphere, but I’d still been exerting effort to hold the potency, and I felt as if I’d summoned three reyza at once. Note to self: Don’t forget that this takes it out of you.

I finished getting ready for work, then poured a cup of coffee and brought it out to the back porch. It wasn’t even seven a.m. yet, but I could already feel the promise of the crushing humidity in the air. Ah, summer in south Louisiana. A season to be endured. But even the prospect of unbearably frizzy hair couldn’t dim my mood. I knew that I was on to something huge with this power-storage diagram.

I heard my cell phone ring from inside the house but felt no great compulsion to leap up and answer it. I wasn’t on call, and I wanted to enjoy my peace. I knew it wasn’t from the neuro center—I’d set that number to a distinct ring as soon as I’d had Tessa admitted there. Eventually the ringing stopped, and about half a minute later I heard the chime that told me I had voice mail.

It will wait, I thought stubbornly. I felt as if I hadn’t had a peaceful moment to myself in months. There was always something that had to be done, somewhere I needed to go. I needed to get into Tessa’s library, I needed to learn more about wards and arcane and essence, I needed