I understood the battle: Doubting the wards meant doubting Hell’s power.
And though I trusted my demons implicitly, Silas knew angels better than they did. I wasn’t ready to bet my friends’ lives on enemy intel.
My lips parted in regret, but I paused amid my head shake. I’d cycled through a Rolodex of ineffective practitioners until I’d met someone with no bells and whistles, only raw, salient advice. A memory of green hair and a chaotic toddler itched behind my ear. I wasn’t sure if she’d be okay with demons, but she certainly seemed like the real deal.
“If you think reinforcements can help protect Nia and Kirbs, then…maybe. I need to borrow a phone,” I said. “Kirbs, can I use yours?”
Kirby turned the key in the ignition, bringing the Jeep to life. They procured the shiny brick of light, information, and infinite entertainment from their pocket. They frowned. “Where’s yours?”
“Hell? Álfheimr? Athens? I’m unsure at this point.”
Silas smirked. “Greece? Why doesn’t it surprise me that the Hellenic pantheon set up shop in the human realm. Is thathow you met…Remind me what those gods are going by?”
I appreciated that we were all on board with the game plan. We were going to move forward.
I answered both Silas and clued in my friend in one fell swoop. Angling toward Nia, I said, “Did I leave out that Hades and Persephone are going by Poppy and Dorian, running a gorgeous private museum on the Mediterranean coast, living in a cliffside mansion, and are probably connected to the mafia?”
Nia looked at me with the sort of exhausted long-suffering one could only get from their dearest friends. “All of your words are beautiful nonsense. I wish I had the capacity for shock.”
“Everyone, shut up,” Kirby said. “Someone put an address in my GPS. Mar can call her witch friends while we drive.”
Nia announced, “Twenty-six minutes in traffic. Should have been a twelve-minute drive, but—”
“That’s fine,” Silas said. “I’ve got my shield over the car. Let’s go.”
With the address secured, the Jeep rolled forward, and I pulled up the social media app to find the only witch I knew.
Xuân’s profile was the second to pop up, based on sheer proximity. Their bio included an emoji of the evil eye ward, a link to their shop, an email for bookings, and a phone number. If I remembered anything from our last encounter, all of Xuân’s phone calls were visual. I clicked the number and held the camera out in front of me.
“Listen,” came Xuân’s voicemail on the third ring, “if this is about the ad, I just don’t know how to take it down. I’m just old. Please, stop calling. The motorcycle has been gone for months.”
I held the phone steady as we merged onto the highway. “I have to say, we are two for two on the most chaotic greetings I’ve ever received over the phone.”
A beat. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
“Oh, shit. This isn’t a voicemail. Your camera wasn’t on, so I—”
The blur of colors became a face. An impatient, green-haired Asian-American mother of two stared impatiently back at me.
I grimaced. “Sorry, yes, I should have introduced myself. We’ve spoken once before. I called a few months ago over a meditation problem. And now I’m in need of a witch.”
I glanced at Nia’s phone mounted near the windshield. Twenty-two minutes. We could do this.
“Oh, this is work! Sure, sure. Hang on.” The muffled static of palms covering mouthpieces did little to drown out her shouts as she hollered for someone to come get the baby. A male voice said something unintelligible in the background before Xuân’s voice returned. She set down a bright orange bag of snacks and looked at me. “Okay, the kids are now with my fiancé. You have at least a few minutes of my undivided attention. What’s this about? Ghost problem? Tarot reading? Deity confirmation service?”
“Umm.” I fidgeted nervously. “I really need help with an…exorcism.”
Azrames cocked a disapproving brow at my side. Silas, on the other hand, seemed to be pressing his lips together to suppress a smile.
“Great!” came Xuân’s enthusiastic response. “Hollywood has everyone calling priests over that shit, but really you need someone who can talk to entities. Treat it like a hostage negotiation with a psychiatrist instead of a police shakedown with some dude in a robe who’s just going to piss it off. But before I get going, do you have cash? Exorcism’s not a cheap service.”
The Jeep lurched as Kirby changed lanes ungracefully. I struggled to sit still as I maintained composure. Adjusting the grip on the phone, I said, “Money’s no object. But this is urgent. From your bio, I know you and I are in the same city, but we may need…backup. Do you have anyone else you trust when it comes to working with demons? Anyone legitimate?”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to take a stab at it first?” she asked, sucking the last of the orange powder off her thumb.
“Trust me on this one. I’m going to need as many real witches as I can get. Preferably ones who don’t have negative feelings about demons.”
The highway continued to vibrate beneath us, colors blurring, time passing, as I waited to see if this green-haired wild card would save the day.
