move on to the next one. Easy.” It seemed so weird to be chatting about killing monsters while sitting in her bright, cheery living room with Igor the Cat glaring at me. Seriously, he was creeping me out.
“She.”
I blinked again. “Excuse me?” I was starting to think she really was a mind reader.
Cordelia smiled gently at me. “The cat is a she. And her name is Bastet.”
Of course. Who else to name a cat after but the Egyptian goddess of war? Granted, Cordelia had struck me as more the pacifist type, but then I supposed it had more to do with Bast being a goddess in cat form than anything else. And, heck, it was no weirder than Cordelia reading my mind. “OK. Bastet. She is creeping me out.”
“She likes you.” Cordelia’s smile was warm. “I knew she would. She’s very particular, but she always knows a good person when she meets one. She especially likes your kind.”
I could only assume that by ‘my kind’ she meant hunters. I couldn’t imagine she met many of us, but you never knew. “Uh, yeah, right.” I could so totally tell. You know, what with the evil cat eye and the glaring and all. She’d pretty much done everything but hiss at me. “So about the Sunwalker?”
“Relax.” Cordelia waved her left hand around, coming dangerously close to dislodging a stack of tarot cards from their precarious perch on the desk behind her chair. “Everything is in motion. You’ll meet soon enough, when the time is right. Now enjoy your tea and tell me all about vampire hunting. It’s so fascinating.”
***
I met Kabita in front of Central Library as planned.
“You bring extra salt?”
I nodded. I was armed to the teeth with holy water, salt and a machete. Contrary to popular myth, holy water didn’t do a thing to vampires. It did, however, cause Zagan demons some serious grief. It was more or less the equivalent of pouring sulfuric acid on human skin. It was nasty, but effective.
Kabita had her thick black hair pulled back in a ponytail tight enough that not a single curl dared escape. She was in her demon hunting uniform of black cargo pants, a black long sleeve tee, and black steel toe boots. She was nothing if not eminently practical.
“The nest is down there,” Kabita whispered, nodding toward the alleyway that ran behind the library. “You stand guard while I cast the circle.”
“Got it.”
The alley was weakly lit by a streetlight half a block away and littered with empty boxes and sacks of garbage. The tang of old urine stung my nose and sent my gag reflexes into overdrive. I struggled to ignore the stench as I scanned the shadows for anything that moved. Nothing did, not even a rat. Smart rats.
The nest was tucked away at the back of the alley. The old cardboard box looked like any other makeshift shelter the homeless erected around the city. Only this box housed something a little less harmless than an old man needing a bath and a run of good luck.
While I stood by with machete and holy water at the ready, Kabita cast a circle with the salt. She was better at spell casting than me. My vampiric abilities wreaked havoc with the magic, but she was a natural born witch.
“Salam kepada penjaga,” she whispered as she walked the circle around the nest mumbling a few words under her breath. It sounded like Hindi or something, but then I wasn’t very good with Asian languages and she was multilingual, so it could have been just about anything.
The minute Kabita finished casting the circle, the young Zagans felt the spell hit and spilled out of the nest, snarling for all they were worth. They were so young they weren’t even secreting slime yet, though they were fortunately old enough that the adult demon that spawned them had already left them to their own devices. If mama had still been around, we’d have been in serious trouble.
A single swipe and Kabita took the heads off two, while I went after a third. Machetes worked wonders on young Zagan demons, their slimy
“She.”
I blinked again. “Excuse me?” I was starting to think she really was a mind reader.
Cordelia smiled gently at me. “The cat is a she. And her name is Bastet.”
Of course. Who else to name a cat after but the Egyptian goddess of war? Granted, Cordelia had struck me as more the pacifist type, but then I supposed it had more to do with Bast being a goddess in cat form than anything else. And, heck, it was no weirder than Cordelia reading my mind. “OK. Bastet. She is creeping me out.”
“She likes you.” Cordelia’s smile was warm. “I knew she would. She’s very particular, but she always knows a good person when she meets one. She especially likes your kind.”
I could only assume that by ‘my kind’ she meant hunters. I couldn’t imagine she met many of us, but you never knew. “Uh, yeah, right.” I could so totally tell. You know, what with the evil cat eye and the glaring and all. She’d pretty much done everything but hiss at me. “So about the Sunwalker?”
“Relax.” Cordelia waved her left hand around, coming dangerously close to dislodging a stack of tarot cards from their precarious perch on the desk behind her chair. “Everything is in motion. You’ll meet soon enough, when the time is right. Now enjoy your tea and tell me all about vampire hunting. It’s so fascinating.”
***
I met Kabita in front of Central Library as planned.
“You bring extra salt?”
I nodded. I was armed to the teeth with holy water, salt and a machete. Contrary to popular myth, holy water didn’t do a thing to vampires. It did, however, cause Zagan demons some serious grief. It was more or less the equivalent of pouring sulfuric acid on human skin. It was nasty, but effective.
Kabita had her thick black hair pulled back in a ponytail tight enough that not a single curl dared escape. She was in her demon hunting uniform of black cargo pants, a black long sleeve tee, and black steel toe boots. She was nothing if not eminently practical.
“The nest is down there,” Kabita whispered, nodding toward the alleyway that ran behind the library. “You stand guard while I cast the circle.”
“Got it.”
The alley was weakly lit by a streetlight half a block away and littered with empty boxes and sacks of garbage. The tang of old urine stung my nose and sent my gag reflexes into overdrive. I struggled to ignore the stench as I scanned the shadows for anything that moved. Nothing did, not even a rat. Smart rats.
The nest was tucked away at the back of the alley. The old cardboard box looked like any other makeshift shelter the homeless erected around the city. Only this box housed something a little less harmless than an old man needing a bath and a run of good luck.
While I stood by with machete and holy water at the ready, Kabita cast a circle with the salt. She was better at spell casting than me. My vampiric abilities wreaked havoc with the magic, but she was a natural born witch.
“Salam kepada penjaga,” she whispered as she walked the circle around the nest mumbling a few words under her breath. It sounded like Hindi or something, but then I wasn’t very good with Asian languages and she was multilingual, so it could have been just about anything.
The minute Kabita finished casting the circle, the young Zagans felt the spell hit and spilled out of the nest, snarling for all they were worth. They were so young they weren’t even secreting slime yet, though they were fortunately old enough that the adult demon that spawned them had already left them to their own devices. If mama had still been around, we’d have been in serious trouble.
A single swipe and Kabita took the heads off two, while I went after a third. Machetes worked wonders on young Zagan demons, their slimy
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