Demon Accords 05.5: Executable Page 12

  A pair of eleventh grade girls came out of the swirling chaotic lunch crowd and rushed up to Caeco. One held up her cell phone and snapped a picture of Caeco’s legs and boots.

  “I looove your boots!” she said, smiling, while her friend nodded. “Where did you get them?”

  “I, ah, made them myself,” Caeco said, following the Oracle script for just this kind of occasion. The makeover specialist had pulled them from a custom-ordered box.

  I ignored the conversation and focused my attention on the phone. Mentally, I pictured four runes while speaking their names under my breath. Feoh-Is-Ràd-Eoh.

  Nothing happened for a second, then the girl with the phone yelped and dropped her smartphone on the floor.

  “So weird? It got really, really hot. Oh no!” she started to wail as she picked up the now-apparently-dead phone.

  “Let me see it,” I said, taking it from her before she could protest. I made a show of looking it over and pressing buttons while silently reversing much of the damage I’d caused. The phone lit up and the screen looked normal.

  “Here ya go, Kim is it? Seems to be back up now. Maybe just overheated or something.”

  She took her phone back, looking from it to me, and then rushed off with her friend in tow.

  “Erased?” Jonah asked casually.

  “Yup, one phone down, about eight hundred and seventeen to go.”

  “Yeah, and tomorrow is the Homecoming game. Nothing to worry about there,” Rory said.

  I didn’t answer, just glanced at Caeco, who had been watching me throughout the whole phone bit. She smiled and once again, I found myself automatically smiling back.

  “So Tree, which girl did you ask to the dance?” Candace asked Jonah. “Ellie or Jess?”

  “Neither,” Jonah answered. “Alice Perkins asked me before I got to the other two.”

  “Really? Shy Alice? Didn’t see that one coming,” Rory said around a mouthful of sandwich. “What about you, Sarah? Going to the big shindig?”

  “No, although that boy Micah asked me to go,” Caeco said.

  I almost choked again. Which turned out to be a good thing, because by the time I managed to swallow, Rory had already responded. “What? No way!”

  “Hey, Micah’s kinda hot,” Candace threw in, then looked at our faces and added, “Just saying.”

  “You turned him down?” Rory asked, amazed.

  “Yes, I already have plans. Mother and I are attending the O’Carrolls’ Mabon ceremony.”

  “Oh really?” Jonah said, looking at me, a smirk on his face.

  “What? Not my fault the girl thinks an Autumn Equinox ceremony with real witches might just be a tad more interesting than a stupid school dance,” I said.

  “Why? All you do is say a bunch of stuff and move around a big circle in the dark. It’s probably gonna rain Saturday night and you’ll end up all wet. The dance might be better,” Rory commented. He noticed my glare after a moment. “What? I’ve been to a couple ceremonies, and it’s not all that exciting.”

  “We have more than one kind, moron. Some are more interesting than others. We’re doing a protection ritual around the Rowan tree. And it ought to be cool as hell—especially if we get a storm,” I shot back at him.

  “Wait, is that the one with the iron spikes?” he asked. I nodded yes and he went on, “Okay, that one is pretty cool, but around the tree? I thought you just did it around the restaurant?”

  “Every three years or so, we do one around the tree. Rowan is naturally protective and when we give it a boost it extends its protection. Plus, it makes any wood from the tree that much better.”

  “How can a tree be protective? Wood better for what?” Caeco asked, rushing her questions.

  “Now you’ve done it. He’ll go on for like an hour,” Rory said.

  I ignored him and turned to Caeco. “If you will accept the idea that witches, as living creatures, can sense and manipulate energies, then it stands to reason that other living things might be able to as well. Certain plants absorb the same energy that we do, and it permeates them. Rowan is perhaps the most saturated, if you will. Yew trees are as well. The energy that you might call magic is neither good nor bad, dark or light, until it is used for such. Rowan trees exude a kind of protective field and so does the wood, even when it’s dead. That’s why we sell so many Rowan wood products through the Internet. Rings, boxes, amulets, rune sets, all made from Rowan wood, are all better for practitioners than regular oak or maple or what have you. And when we perform a protection ritual, it boosts the tree’s natural level even higher.”

  “So this amulet you gave me is from your tree?” Caeco asked, pulling the wood disk and cord from under her shirt into the open.

  “You gave her an amulet?” Rory asked, astounded.

  “Of course. We gave one to her mother, as well. It’s much stronger than the Sharpie-to-the-back-of-the-hand bit. That’s the field expedient method,” I explained, feeling defensive.

  “Did you make the amulets, or did your aunt?” Rory asked sharply.

  I didn’t answer right away, but Caeco did. “Declan made them. Ashling said he doesn’t do that very often, but his are more powerful than the ones she makes for the shop.”

  Both Candace and Rory were openly smirking at me and Johan was smiling slightly, nodding slowly. I could feel my face burning.

  “Sarah, Declan has only made a handful in his life. His aunt, Darci, and Levi have them. The only others up till now are ours,” Candace said, pulling her own from under her shirt. Rory and Jonah followed suit.

  “Oh!” Caeco said, looking down at the disk carved with the runes of protection and strength.

  “It’s not a big deal. So I give them to my friends. Sue me,” I said.

  “Well, it took us a couple of years before we got them. You scored yours in like a week,” Jonah said. “Hmm, wonder what that means?”

  “Means you never had black ops types trying to chase you down and she does, plus you’re so damn tall, I thought you’d get hit by lightning long before we became good enough friends for me to make you one,” I growled.

  “What do these do?” Caeco asked, still looking down at her amulet.

  Everyone turned my way. “Well, they give you a boost of… I don’t know… luck, maybe? Also, the strength rune will help your abilities be just a little bit more. Jump a little higher, move just a little quicker. Also, they repel other kinds of entities and provide some protection from other witches,” I said.

  “Entities? What entities?” she asked immediately.

  “Wraiths, ghosts, some demonic types, and Aunt Ash says they will cause things like vampires to shy away from you.”

  She didn’t say anything, and the others at the table all waited for a response. She finally looked up and smiled at me again. “Cool,” she said.

  “That’s it? You’re not gonna question the existence of all those things?” Candace asked, incredulous.

  “Why would I? He’s a witch, I’ve seen proof of that multiple times, and I’ve met a vampire. Simple logic would imply that the existence of the rest is at least possible, if not plausible.”

  “But you’re the product of a science environment! You were raised by a geneticist in a lab!” Candace replied. Of all my friends, Candace accepts who I am not because she believes everything I tell her, but because I obviously believe it. Which is kind of cool on one hand, but at other times leaves her questioning my world. She knows I can manipulate technology, but she has argued that it may have a scientific-based answer. I argue that it likely does, but that science just isn’t advanced enough yet to find that answer.

  She also has been exposed the least. Rory has been with me for years and been a guest at family ceremonies where, despite what he said to Caeco, he’s seen some pretty interesting stuff. Jonah has seen more than Candace, who really has only witnessed my computer and cell phone skills.

  “Yes, Candace, but it was a very unusual lab. As I said, there was an actual hemivore—a vampir
e—kept prisoner. And there were a lot of other experiments as well. Some failed, but others were successful enough to make even my mother question what she knew. And both my mother and I have seen firsthand some of what Declan and Ashling O’Carroll can do.”

  “Oh, just what can Declan and his lesbian aunt do?” a new voice said. We turned to find Trey Johnson and two of his Neanderthals looming behind us.

  Chapter 20 – Miseri

  The sign on the front of the house said Richard G. Kearing Associates, Insurance Adjusters. Miseri wondered just who the Associates were. Maybe either the curly-headed housewife who had just left the driveway in her newer Ford Focus, wearing yoga pants and carrying a rolled-up mat or the little yippy dog that was trotting around the yard but staying well back from the Invisible Fence flags that ringed the well-kept lawn.

  The house was older but in immaculate condition, the white aluminum siding gleaming in the morning sun, set off by the black shutters. It was a small Cape style, probably two bedrooms, one bath.

  The business sign hung from a lamppost, unobtrusive and, like the house, crisply clean. Apparently Richard G. Kearing kept a ship-shape operation. Miseri liked that. She appreciated order and cleanliness.

  Pulling her Honda into the same spot Mrs. Kearing had recently vacated, Miseri climbed out and headed for the front door while automatically scanning the neighborhood.

  A quiet suburb just outside of Rochester, New York, the rest of the houses were just as neatly maintained, and the lack of cars and general activity led to the impression that most of the residents were at their various forms of employment. Perfect, although the quiet was broken by the shrill yips of the little canine that had immediately left off its marking of the bushy blue spruce in the middle of the front yard to begin protesting her arrival.

  The dog met her at the porch steps at about the same time the front door opened and a graying, middle-aged man in a light blue button-down shirt and khaki pants stepped out.

  Black-rimmed glasses framed serious dark eyes that took in her navy pantsuit, professional hair style, and bright smile.

  “Mr. Kearing? My name is Missy Cord from Key Style rentals. You did the insurance claim for one of our vehicles recently, and we had just one tiny little question that we hoped you could help with.”

  “You could’ve just called,” Richard G. Kearing replied, a frown forming on his serious face.

  “Of course, but I was in the area to review one of our outlets and my boss asked me to just run a few questions by you. It was just as easy to stop as it was to call.”

  “I remember your company’s name and the claim. Nasty accident. What was your question?”

  “Well, you indicated that the car had four Goodyear tires and a brand new battery. Our maintenance records show that car wearing Dunlops and not having any battery changes since we took possession of the car.”

  “I already went over this with your office. I even sent pictures,” Richard G. said, frowning.

  “Yes, you did, and we thank you for them. It’s just that we don’t like mysteries with our vehicles and I was nearby, so we thought we would see if there was anything else you could remember?”

  His frown went even deeper and Miseri sighed internally, thinking that she was going to have to insist on a private conversation inside his home, where she could utilize some memory motivation techniques that he probably wouldn’t survive.

  But then the furrow between his eyes smoothed out and a eureka look spread out across his features.

  “The battery had a Napa sticker on it for a store in Wilmington, Vermont. You could always backtrack to that store and see who bought it,” he suggested, his tone indicating that he was self-satisfied for remembering that detail and close to being done with the conversation.

  Miseri felt her right eyebrow rise as she considered that piece of information, and she gave Richard G. a bright smile.

  “Thank you, Mr. Kearing. That’s exactly the kind of detail we were looking for. We appreciate your time; always nice to interact with a professional.”

  “Ah, that’s fine then, Miss Cord,” he said, puffing up a bit. He bent down and picked up the little yappy dog and with a final nod in her direction, headed inside, closing the door behind him.

  Miseri climbed back into her car, pausing to pet the kitten as she considered her next step.

  “Machete’s first assignment was in Vermont, Talon. How about we go take in the Green Mountains ourselves?” she asked the ginger kitten that immediately crawled onto her lap.

  Chapter 21 – Declan

  “Well, even my aunt could throw better than you, Johnson. How you gonna win us the big homecoming game when your fingers are all taped up? You should have just let the weights crush Otts,” I said. Otts growled at me. The big bastard still had a goose egg on his forehead from its meeting with the lockers.

  Trey stared at me then lifted his right hand, bringing the strapped fingers into view. Pausing for dramatic effect, he tore the white tape off, freeing his index and middle fingers, which he then clenched. It hurt him, I know, because I was close enough to see the little tremors in the corners of his eyes, but otherwise, he didn’t show it. He unclenched his hand and extended just the middle finger, which he turned to face me, then waved it at the rest of the table before ending with it in Caeco’s face.

  “What? You want me to remove it completely?” she asked, her voice flat and cold. Despite his tough guy act, Trey flinched ever so slightly at her words. He was afraid of her. Which made him mean.

  “No, bitch, it’s the number of chances you had at moving up from this freak show, but you blew it. I heard the Feds wanted you for questioning. I know your past is as dirty as that makeup crap on your face, and I’m gonna dig it up. ”

  Caeco’s eyes went hard, the dark brown almost black. The muscles on her left forearm were knotted and her knuckles white where her hand clenched the industrial polymer seat she was sitting on. I touched her hand lightly and caught Trey’s eyes.

  “Wow Trey pretty original stuff. You really need college if only to up your game,” I said, and a few laughs came out of the attentive audience. The whole cafeteria was watching the drama at our table. “So why don’t you and your dumbass linebackers go concentrate on not losing tomorrow’s game by too many touchdowns. I imagine it’ll be hard enough for your dad to bribe and blackmail your way into college, even with a football ride. If your stats go bad, you might have no chance at all.”

  Under my hand, the steel cables that Caeco called tendons relaxed a bit, but the little buzz that ran up my hand told me a lot about the level of deadly rage she was feeling toward Castlebury High’s favorite quarterback.

  Trey was studying my face, my implied threat to his school record received and understood. He knew what I really meant by stats, even if his goons didn’t. He made a pistol shape with his fingers, dropping his thumb hammer first on me and then on Caeco, then he left, shoving an unlucky tenth grader out of his path, his gorillas clumping behind him.

  “That was awesome,” Rory said.

  Candace looked sick and Jonah’s mouth was alternating lopsided grins with worried frowns.

  “He’s gonna do something, isn’t he?” Caeco asked, ignoring Rory.

  “Yep. He’s terrified, so he’ll attack. Nothing overt. Maybe leave drugs in your locker or SWAT call your house or something,” I answered, trying to think of how to protect her from my poisonous ex-friend.

  Turned out, I was wrong. His plan of attack consisted of telling his mother, the President of the PTA, that there was a new girl in school with a troubled past that the Feds were investigating. Tracey Johnson was arguably the town’s biggest bitch, the perfect stereotype of a small town queen bee who wielded gossip, innuendo, and status like a master swordsman. She went to the head of the school board and the school superintendent, demanding an answer to what he was going to do about this federal suspect that was a danger to the children, the town’s reputation, and the American way of life.

  Super
intendent Gowin had already been briefed by Agent West, as had the high school principal. They were under the impression that Sarah and Rachel Williams were part of a witness relocation situation. Unfortunately, he let that slip and Tracy Johnson became even more incensed, downright righteous with the threat of criminal retaliation occurring in the school. Agent West paid her and her husband a visit, explaining the ramifications of revealing a federally protected witness’s location and identity. While her husband might be suitably impressed by the legal threat, I didn’t think hell on heels Tracy would be so easily cowed, although the word cow fit her well.

  Agent West felt the situation was handled and we should just go about our lives. Myself, I had a flashback to fifth grade. Trey was a spoiled brat even then, although we were still friends. He got rowdy on the school bus and Mr. Wilkins, the bus driver, had stopped the bus and come down the row. Grabbing Trey’s arm, he’d hauled him to the back of the bus and made him sit among the big kids. Trey’s parents had called the bus garage to complain but were told that Wilkins was within his authority to change the seating on the bus to maintain order. Mr. Johnson had settled for legal threats if anyone touched his son again. But Mrs. Johnson cranked up the gossipmonger hotline and began a campaign against Mr. Wilkins.