“And the third victim?” Laney asks apprehensively.
“There are a few heart attack victims that could possibly fit the description. But this is where the killings get more frequent. Something happened in late November that awoke this demon or caused a crack in whatever door is on this…this dimension. And the demon has been getting stronger.”
“So, feeding every three days isn’t some sort of ritual,” Sam says slowly. “It can start feeding more frequently.”
“Yeah,” Ethan says shortly. “And the more it kills, the stronger it gets.”
“Until it will eventually break free,” Harrison finishes.
“Exactly.” Ethan turns his computer back around. “Instead of looking for a sleep-demon, we need to look for something that can create chaos and despair.”
“Wait,” Laney says with a gasp. “I saw something. It was X’d out but the picture was really freaky, so I read the caption. It’s a…a…wraith.” She madly flips through a few more pages. “Here.” She taps the page. A hand-drawn photo takes up half the space on this page, showing what looks like a tall figure with dark eyes, shaggy hair, wearing a long, black cloak. “Kornath, Prince amongst the Wraiths,” she starts reading. “After pledging loyalty to the Demon King Bael, Kornath was granted the power to manifest one’s worst fears right before their eyes.” She points to something handwritten in the margin. “It says V:1939.”
“Vanquished in 1939,” I explain. “But not killed.”
“So, this demon is in a pocket dimension?” Nik asks.
“I would think so.” I flip to the end of my Book of Shadows, pulling out the letter Aunt Estelle wrote to someone, listing all the demons she targeted. The thirties are before her time as a demon hunter but I need to be sure.
“Bael,” Sam says. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“He’s a powerful demon,” Nik explains. “One the fae have feared for centuries. He calls himself a king though he has no royal bloodline in Hell. He’s not a demon you ever want to come across for only a seraph has the power to stop a demon like that.”
“What’s a seraph?” Laney asks and Harrison shakes his head, shrugging to let us know he has no idea either.
“It’s another word for angel,” Ethan says. “And they don’t exist.”
“If demons do, why can’t angels?” Laney tips her head. “Isn’t there a balance between good and evil in the universe? Or have I watched too many superhero movies?”
“Too many movies,” Ethan and I say at the same time.
“We can save the angel discussion for another day.” Ethan goes over to the papers he has taped to the wall, studying them for a moment. “Sam, call Jules and see if she can get into the auction house catalogue.”
“Don’t need to,” Sam replies. “She already sent me a username and password to log in.” She scoots Ethan’s computer in front of her. “What do you want me to look up?”
“An appraisal log from November.”
“All right. Logging in now.” Sam types away and we wait, all eyes on her. “There was an estate sale in the beginning of the month with a lot of crap going for under twenty bucks.”
“Can you narrow the search by who appraised it?” Ethan goes around the table, putting a hand on the back of Sam’s chair.
“No, but it does tell you who assigned the monetary value. Want me to look for anything Miles appraised?”
“Yep.”
I look at the drawing of Kornath while I wait, remembering having read about wraiths in my Book of Shadows. There are different kinds, but they all feed off some sort of emotion, be it fear or grief.
“Oh, look at th–, never mind.” Sam keeps scrolling and another minute ticks by. “Bingo.”
She’s at the table across from me, so I can’t see the computer screen. Judging by Ethan’s expression, whatever she found is important.
“On November sixteenth our dead historian appraised a crown of unknown origins for a lot of money. The exact age of said crown couldn’t be pin-pointed due to abnormalities in the sample of the metal, but it’s believed to be from the fourteenth century.” Sam looks up at us. “Anyone want to guess who bought this crown?”
“The medieval nerd,” Harrison answers. “Joe-something?”
“Peterson,” Nik says. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
“Yep. And a week later he was dead.”
Ethan inhales, straightening up. “You’ve heard of Bael before?” he asks Nik. “Any chance the demon who calls himself a king would wear a crown?”
“Oh, of course. Though if a demon of his caliber was opening a rift just big enough to pull a human though, I’d hope we’d know.”
“Right, and I would think if Bael lost a material item here, one that has no power, he wouldn’t be all that concerned.”
“But a demon who pledged loyalty would,” I continue. “Not necessarily about the crown, but about kissing his boss’s butt…and in his attempt to do so, he realized he was still able to use his powers.”