Demon Magic Read online

  Demon Magic

  Brimstone Magic - Book 4

  Tori Centanni

  Copyright © 2019 by Tori Centanni

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Art by Lou Harper

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Thank you for reading!

  Also by Tori Centanni

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I stood in my bedroom, staring at myself in the full-length mirror as Penelope hung back, studying me as if she were a fashion designer evaluating her work. I swished the giant blue skirt back and forth. The gossamer fabric shimmered as it moved from side to side.

  “I look like I’m being swallowed by a cupcake,” I said.

  The skirt fanned out at my hips, the ruffles making it flare out much wider than the tight blue bodice that clung to my midsection. The delicate fabric was pale robin’s egg blue and overlaid on top of a white under skirt to give it more volume. Penelope had forced me to wear a small petticoat too, to help the skirt poof outwards. It wasn’t as bad as those metal cage things people had worn in the Civil War era, but still, I wasn’t used to being surrounded by so much fabric. My standard attire was jeans and t-shirts, maybe a little black cocktail dress if I needed to get fancy. Ball gowns were out of my wheelhouse.

  “You look appropriate now,” Penelope declared, tilting her head from side to side. “Or you will, with this.” Penelope handed me a silver mask, the kind worn at masquerade balls in Cinderella movies.

  I took it and put it on, studying the effect. It did enough to blunt my identity that it might make the party easier to handle, even if every vampire in the room would be able to smell my mortal blood and peg me as potential prey.

  I lifted the skirt and stepped from side to side, unsure how to move in such a dress. I wore my sneakers with purple laces under the dress, relieved at least part of me got to remain comfortable.

  “You’re going to wear those shoes?” Penelope asked in a very disapproving tone.

  “Yes,” I said anyhow.

  Penelope frowned but didn’t argue. She and I didn’t share a shoe-size, so while her ball gown fit me pretty well, her shoes wouldn’t. Even if I wanted something fancier, I didn’t have time to go shoe shopping, and besides, I wasn’t going to walk into a vampire’s party wearing shoes I couldn’t run away in.

  I let the skirt fall and smoothed the bodice. I turned sideways, still unsure. The cap sleeves had the same poof as the skirt and I kept seeing them in my periphery and thinking something was on my shoulder. “Can’t I just wear my costume?”

  “It’s not that kind of ball,” Penelope said.

  I glared at her. “It’s a Halloween Ball. How is my costume not appropriate attire?”

  I’d purchased what I thought was the perfect outfit at the seasonal Halloween store: a Crime Scene Investigator outfit, complete with a shiny black jacket that said “CSI” on the back. It was perfect. I thought it was funny, given my job as a private eye, and—bonus—it would allow me to wear pants. Definitely better than any of the “sexy” costume offerings the store had been stocked with, at least for my personal style. But when Penelope asked what I was wearing to Lady Vera’s Halloween Ball and I’d shown her, she’d looked at me like I’d sprouted horns.

  Apparently, the vampire’s ball was not a normal Halloween party like I’d assumed when I’d agreed to go back in August. And by agreed, I meant I’d promised to go, which in the rules of supernatural etiquette meant I was now obligated to show up. I wasn’t a huge fan of most vampires and or, frankly, large parties, but a promise was a promise. Lady Vera had told me costumes were mandatory, but apparently she’d meant fancy, stuffy costumes, not fun, cheap, easy-to-wear ones.

  I’d at least thought I could get away with having pockets.

  “Where will I put my sword?” I asked. I’d just gotten a new sword to replace my old one and finished putting the enchantment on its blade to make it extra sharp last week. Having been without it for a while made me remember just how often I needed it.

  “You might as well not bring it,” Penelope said. “You’ll have to surrender it at the door.”

  “I’m not leaving home without it,” I said, a little petulantly.

  Even if I had to check the sword at the door, I’d feel a lot better spending my night in a mansion full of vampires knowing I had a weapon nearby.

  As a witch, I had the ability to cast spells and carry charms and potions, but those would also need to be surrendered at the door. But I had my demon magic—demon fire and shadow sight. Those were my secret powers, left behind in my body by a demon who’d possessed me for three horrible days. But demon magic of any kind was also super illegal, so I wouldn’t be breaking mine out at a party full of witnesses, most of whom would love to get a better leg-up with the Council, unless it was absolutely necessary.

  I swallowed, my stomach roiling.

  Penelope frowned. “You look a bit green.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, but I did feel a little nauseated every time I thought of the Council.

  Conor Ramsey, a Watcher—the Magical Council’s police—had learned my secret almost six weeks ago when I’d used demon magic to save his life. I had been sure he’d turn me in when he found out, but the Watchers hadn’t come to arrest me yet.

  I had to assume Conor hadn’t told anyone, because I couldn’t imagine the Council being okay with a witch who had demon magic running free. Most witches could only summon demons or use brimstone to enhance their magic, and the Council would happily jail anyone who did that. A witch who could throw around demonic fireballs? Surely I’d be on the gallows within minutes, or at least locked up in the dungeon with dampener cuffs to curtail my magic.

  “They are not coming for you,” Penelope said, as if reading my thoughts.

  She was one of the few people who knew my secret, and I’d told her how Conor had found out; how he’d seen me wield demon fire with his own eyes. I’d used my magic to stop a poisoned arrow from striking him, but still. Demon fire bad, at least to any Watcher.

  “Maybe they’re biding their time,” I said. “Waiting for the right moment.”

  Someone pounded on my front door. I jumped about six feet. Penelope shook her head, turned into a crow, and flew out the window. She was my friend, sort of, but she wasn’t sticking around in case that was the Watchers here to finally drag me to the dungeon.

  Heart hammering, I lifted my skirt and made my way through my small apartment’s living room to the front door. I put my eye to the peephole and saw Silas, my vampire landlord, in a tuxedo, holding a gold mask that was similar to mine in his free hand.

  I took my mask off and I opened the door.

  Silas stood a little shy of six feet but he was taller than I was, with dark hair and a thin face. He had elegant, if sharp features, and was pretty damn good looking for a dead guy. Shame dead guys weren’t my type. Plus, Silas was a little too nerdy for me. Most nights he could be found at the
AFK Tavern, playing D&D-style roleplaying games with a group of college kids he’d recently befriended. Vampires had a lot of time to kill.

  “You look good,” I said. “You clean up nice.”

  And he did. Silas looked damn good in a tailored tuxedo.

  He smiled. “So do you! I’m impressed, Dani. I figured I’d have to fight you out of wearing jeans.”

  I’d done my makeup and put my brown hair up into the fanciest bun I could muster—spoiler, it was not very fancy. One strand had already come loose at the front. But it was a far cry from the loose ponytail I usually wore.

  “I still don’t get why I can’t just wear a normal Halloween costume. What’s the point of having a huge Halloween party if you’re just going to make everyone dress like it’s Mardi Gras?”

  “To posture and show off,” Silas said. “It’s all politics gussied up in pretty clothes.”

  “So why are you going?” When I’d told Silas about how I was obligated to attend this soiree, I’d been relieved to hear that he, too, would be there. After all, parties like this were infinitely better when you knew at least one person and weren’t stuck lingering by the buffet table all night.

  Actually, come to think of it, I doubted a vampire party would have a buffet table. What a waste of a gorgeous dress.

  “Obligation,” he answered.

  “You promised Lady Vera you’d attend?” I asked dubiously. I’d done so in the course of an investigation. I’d needed to speak with a vampire she had imprisoned and that was the cost. But Silas wasn’t really the make supernatural promises type.

  “No, but I am a vampire, and I need to attend a function like this every so often to keep up with what’s going on in the vampire world,” he said. “Not doing so means being caught unawares when the newest bullshit inevitably starts to affect you. And trust me, it always does.”

  “The joys of being undead,” I said.

  Silas smiled faintly. “Are you ready? Your chariot awaits. Also, I believe we’re already fashionably late.”

  I glanced over at the clock on the microwave. It was coming up on eight-thirty, which seemed early for a creature of the night’s big yearly bash, but according to the invitation (which I had to carry for lack of pockets), the ball started “thirty minutes after sunset” which had happened two hours ago.

  Which meant any later, and we were just stalling.

  I grabbed the clutch purse that matched my dress. It was too small to hold my wallet and my phone, I pulled out my ID, a hundred dollar bill, and my debit card and jammed them in between my phone and keys. Then with my invitation, mask, and purse in hand, I was ready to go. I saw my sword leaning by the front door, and grabbed it, too.

  Silas frowned. “You know you can’t take that inside,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Might as well look as threatening as I can walking in the door. Maybe that’ll make anyone think twice before they mess with me.”

  Silas shook his head and headed down the hall toward the elevator. I locked up my apartment and followed him down to his car.

  Chapter 2

  Silas’ car pulled up to the roundabout in front of the mansion and a waiting valet took the keys.

  The front double doors of Lady Vera’s mansion were wide open and flanked by greeters in tuxedos, though they didn’t wear masks. When Silas and I approached, the man to the right took our invitations and then insisted we puts our masks on before proceeding further. Silas helped me tie the mask snuggly around my face. I didn’t like how it limited my periphery vision but at least it didn’t cover my nostrils and I could breathe.

  Inside, we were stopped again by the coat check lady, a human wearing a pantsuit and no mask.

  “Weapons and coats stop here,” she said.

  I’d known this would happen but I still felt a pang of unease as I handed over my sword. I watched the woman attach a numbered slip to the hilt and then hand me a piece of paper with the matching number, which I shoved into my tiny clutch purse. She then searched my purse and patted both me and Silas down to check for any additional weapons.

  Finally, we were directed down the hall to the ballroom.

  I took a deep breath. Silas grinned at me, his smile wide under his silver mask.

  “Why do you look so happy?” I asked, as I held up my skirts so I could walk without tripping.

  “Because of all the things I expected I might bear witness to, I never thought you attending Lady Vera’s annual Halloween party would be one of them.”

  I elbowed him and then stopped short at the ballroom’s double doors.

  The ballroom was massive, the kind of space that could easily host a small rock concert or a large wedding. Silver chandeliers hung at various intervals from the white coffered ceiling, all surrounded with faux cobwebs. Orange and black flower decorations made of paper were hung on the wall, elegant and yet still very Halloween themed. A bar, fully stocked from the looks of the shelves behind it, sat along the wall next to the entrance. The rest of the room was mostly empty floor, save for couches and chairs that sat on either end of the room and hugging the wall, allowing people to take a break from socializing or dancing or whatever people did at these types of parties. A string quartet—all vampires from what I could tell—were set up in the center, against the back wall. They were playing light classical music.

  “Pretty swanky, huh?” Silas asked as I took it all in.

  It looked like a very fancy party which made me itchy. I wasn’t accustomed to attending these types of galas when they were full of mortals. This one was full of vampires. Or, it would be shortly. At the moment, the crowd was thin, and Lady Vera herself was nowhere to be seen, no doubt waiting until there were more people in attendance to make her grand entrance.

  “It’s all right,” I admitted. “Although I don’t see any food.”

  Silas laughed and there was something a little dangerous in it. “Not for mortals, maybe…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get all weird and vampire-y on me. I’m not one of your high school fangirls.”

  He smirked. “First of all, they’re college students. Second, they’re all genders. And third, they’re not fans so much as… willing to play the part.”

  Silas’ tabletop group ate up his “I’m a vampire” act, though none of them really believed he was a vampire. It was just part of the fun.

  “I’m getting a drink. Want anything?” I asked.

  Silas shook his head.

  I headed for the bar. Along with the usual bottles of liquor and wine, a group of opaque bottles lined the back of the bar. They had hand-written labels with letters on them: A, B, O. I swallowed uneasily and shifted my attention to the selection of vodkas.

  “We have a lovely drink special tonight,” the bartender said. She wasn’t a vampire but she was pale and gaunt, with a black velvet choker that wasn’t quite covering up her bruises and bite marks as well as she probably hoped. “It’s a bloody Mary.”

  “I’ll take a vodka soda,” I said. Normally, I’d drink whiskey or beer, but I figured it’d be better to sip something fizzy and not overdo it. With this many vampires and their cohorts around, I wanted to keep a mostly clear head, even as I drank a little to take the edge off.

  The bartender made my drink and I shoved a few dollar bills in the elegant glass tip jar at the end of the bar. I took my drink, turned around, and bumped straight into a man in a mask. He smiled at me, baring his fangs.

  “My lady,” he said, with a slight bow.

  I squinted at his masked face. “Christopher?” I guessed.

  Christopher was the head of the Seattle vampires, while Lady Vera was in charge of the entire Pacific Northwest, making him something of an underling, though you’d never know it from how he carried himself. I’d done jobs for him in the past. I wouldn’t call us friends but we had an understanding of sorts: I’d do his dirty work for the right price and he’d keep his fangs far from my neck.

  “Indeed. Though I’m quite surprised to see you here,” he sai
d. Christopher was tall, with dark skin that death had paled and dark hair. He wore a black tux with a blue cummerbund that matched his piercing eyes. They were almost as deep as Conor’s.

  And I wasn’t going to think about Conor tonight. My stomach clenched as I shoved that thought far, far down.

  “Lady Vera insisted,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as annoyed as I felt.

  An eyebrow rose over his gold mask. “I see. Well, be careful. You don’t have many fans among our kind.”

  Ice ran down my spine and I scanned the growing mass of mostly vampires, all wearing masks and mostly anonymous.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I muttered.

  Christopher was already moving past me to the bar. I moved in the opposite direction and quickly realized I’d lost track of Silas.

  To calm my nerves, I decided to walk the perimeter. Getting the lay of the land and possible exit routes would help ease the tension headache growing behind my eyes.

  I made my way to the back wall and started walking. There were two sets of double-doors on either side of a curve in the room and each led out to a wide veranda. The first set was open so I walked out into the chilly October night. The second set was closed but I pulled them open and took a quick walk around. It was pretty much the mirror image of the first veranda and if you stood on the edge of it, you could even see the other veranda around the bend. I went back in.

  When I reached the end of the ballroom, I found another set of French doors that led into a parlor filled with Victorian-style sofas and chaise lounges. The doors weren’t locked but no one was in the parlor so I closed them again and moved on.

  A blond man backed into me. He was surrounded by a group of women in red, orange, and yellow dresses with matching masks. They were all human, heat radiating off them in a way you didn’t notice until you were in a room full of the undead. The man was a vampire and he turned to sneer at me, baring his fangs as he growled, “Excuse me!”