“Minegold. Good evening, Mr. Leon. Felicitations of the season to you.”
Brax couldn’t help but smile. Jakob Minegold had one of those faint European accents and all the old-world courtliness of a lord or duke. In person, he gave off an air of regal distinction, a cross between one of those intellectual orchestra conductors and a sort of paler, deadlier Peter Capaldi. “Good evening. Merry Christmas—if you celebrate?” The conversation felt a tad surreal. Vampires, celebrating the birth of Christ, the literal killer of their demonic lineage.
But in Pine Ridge, it didn’t seem like having an “evil” heritage meant you stuck to the dark side. Most people around here seemed to revel in breaking all associations, all chains.
Hm. The goody-goodies were actually the “bad boys” of the supernatural world, Brax supposed.
Mr. Minegold’s voice lost some of its joy as he answered. “I do, in addition to many other festivities. But tonight the festivities have hit a snag, and so I must—”
“I think I know who snagged them, Jakob.”
“What? You do?”
Brax told the tale of the bumbling wannabe witch, and heard the other vampire humming to himself, a thoughtful, processing sort of noise.
“That sounds like quite a problematic little spell. But one side of the town isn’t turning into the tropics, I’m afraid.”
“No. I see that on the news,” Brax muttered, looking at the local alerts his phone was popping up—and trying not to look at Penny, sitting in the shadow of the freezer, now rummaging for frozen peas that defrosted as soon as they hit her skin.
“I’m afraid that there is more than meets the eye to this little spell. In fact... Well, I am slightly worried about the idea of Hell freezing over.”
Brax let out a startled gulp. “I thought about that. But we don’t—”
“No. We don’t. We do not have a direct entrance to the nether realms, but we are a site where all kinds of energy pools and things cross in and over—especially on the other side of the river, past White Pines, past Blue Moon Lake. Sometimes I think of it as the ‘Wildwoods’ from that dear old book,The Wind and the Willows. Alas, if only it were belligerent weasels and stoats.”
What in the world is he on about? What’s in the woods? I need to read more.“Uh. Yes?” Brax ran freezing fingers through his hair and started sidling up to his living heater.
“It seems to me that this innocent spell gone wrong may not have been so innocent. That’s very advanced magic for a beginner to try, and if she were more than a beginner, someone would have mentioned her name to me by now. I wonder where she learned such a spell.”
“People learn everything on the internet,” Penny called.
“Is that the voice of your burning companion?”
“My burning companion? Yes, and I’m freezing to a second death. We had to call a truce to keep each other from kicking our respective buckets,” Brax said through chattering teeth.
“The internetisa possible source, I suppose. I do wonder, though, if someone sent her the spell. Someone knowing that it might affect you, or her.”
“She’s innocent. Never hurt anyone. If someone wanted to punish one of us, it’d be me. She’d just be caught in the crossfire.”
“Don’t say fire. I’m dying,” Penny groaned.
“You don’t have some powerful sorceress with a grudge in your past, do you?”
Brax’s eyes widened, and he winced. “Would a voodoo queen who sold her soul a long, long time ago and hates my guts ‘cause I ate one of her favorite toyboys do it?”
Mr. Minegold sighed. “Sold her soul?”
“Mhm.”
“To a demon, one presumes?”
“Straight outta Hell, via New Orleans, I expect.”
“I told you monsters were bad,” Penny hissed.
“Quiet, honey, the good guys are trying to stop ‘em.” Brax rubbed his temples. This couldn’t be his fault. It couldn’t be. Marietta had cursed him enough! She didn’t need to curse his bloody town! And had he just grouped himself in with the good guys?
Yep. The world was probably ending.
