“I’m off work at two. Can we talk then?”
“Yeah,” I say, though if I were here, I’d get up and run out of here. If she’s that worried about money, she’s making deals with demons she might not want to cut her hours. Taking a few hours to regroup wouldn’t hurt either, and if I can use this symbol to figure out who the demon is, we’ll have that much more of an advantage. “We’ll meet you back here.”
“Thank you,” she says sincerely and closes her eyes.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her and step to the side, folding the paper in half. The woman behind us checks in for her appointment, and Ethan and I leave.
“Did you buy that?” He takes my hand as we go down the salon’s steps.
“I did. Did you?”
“Yeah. The demon has its claws in her. Literally. She has scratches on her arms.”
“I noticed,” I tell him. “What do you think she meant, let him out of the box?”
“I have no fucking clue. Let me see that symbol.” I hand Ethan the paper and we slow to a stop. He takes a photo and sends it to his dad, asking if he’s familiar with it.
“It doesn’t look familiar at all.” I take the paper back and fold it up.
“I’ll put money on it being a demonic sigil and the demon needs your blood because you’re a witch in order to escape wherever he’s trapped.”
“Which means he was probably put there by Aunt Estelle.”
“Yep.”
Letting out a sigh, I turn my head up. “It would be really nice for you to come talk to me now.” I look back at Ethan. “She’s not going to talk to me.”
“I agree with you.”
We get back into the car and fill Nikolai and Harrison in on what we found out. Nikolai doesn’t recognize the symbol either but agrees with Ethan that it’s some sort of demonic sigil.
“What’s the plan now?” Harrison asks.
“Go back home and look through all the books we can,” Ethan answers. “If we can figure out who the sigil belongs to, we can figure out how to kill it. She said it watches through mirrors, so we’re going to cover them all up too.”
“Fuck,” Harrison says under his breath.
“You could say that again,” Nikolai mumbles.
“What would my aunt do?” I twist in the seat to look at him. “If a demon were after her like this?”
“She would seek help from the coven.” Nikolai gives me a sympathetic look. “I wish I could guide you to them.”
“Me too.” I turn back around and rest my head against the window. I’m still tired but am starting to develop a phobia of falling asleep. I’ll either wake up stuck or as a murderer. My phone vibrates with a text from Rene.
Rene: Hey girl! How are things with the you-know-what?
Me: I think we’re onto something, actually. Time for research in hopes for answers.
Rene: Need any help?
Me: Yeah, actually, that would be great. Meet at my house?
Rene: On my way :-)
“Thanks for coming,” I tell Rene and close the door behind her. We talked on the phone on her way here so I could fill her in on everything.
“Of course. This is kind of exciting.” She takes off her shoes and coat. “I’m helping you find a demon so you can kill it.”
“When you put it that way, it does sound pretty bad ass.” I take her coat from her and hang it up in the closet. “We have coffee and snacks at the ready. This could take a while.” We go into the library, joining the others. “This is Harrison, my brother, and hit is Nikolai, an old family friend.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Rene says with a little wave.
“You as well,” Nikolai says. “And I am old. Nearly a hundred and thirty. I’m half fae and used to sleep with her aunt.”
“I was hoping to ease all that into the conversation over the next few hours,” I say, slowly shaking my head. “But now that it’s all out there, let’s get started.” Rene and I sit on the loveseat and I had her a book. “Basically, we’re looking for the sigil. It’s all we have to go on so far, though if you see anything about a demon who uses mirrors in any way, it’s worth noting.”
“Got it.”
I open my heavy Book of Shadows and start leafing through.
“Let me see that symbol again,” Harrison says and I hand him the paper. “I think I found him.” He pushes the demonic dictionary forward and we all crowd around. “Xozon, though this says he was already captured, and his ashes are locked in some sort of magical box.”
The color drains from my face, as Claire’s words suddenly make sense. The box of ashes I found in the attic weren’t Aunt Estelle’s beloved dog.