Kitty Raises Hell
Page 66

“Deal.”
Ben, still skeptical, said, “You think this is what the Justice League does after saving the city? They go out for coffee?”
“I don’t care what the Justice League does,” I said, hooking my arm around his. “This is what werewolves and paranormal investigators and police detectives do.”
“Whatever you say, dear.”
“I need to call Shaun and everyone,” I said. “Tell them they can stop using that gunk.”
“How well does that stuff clean up, anyway?”
I was afraid the answer to that wouldn’t be good.
Then my phone rang. A call at this hour of night couldn’t be good. I pulled it out of my pocket, answered it, and started pacing. “Yeah?”
“Kitty, it’s Peter,” he said breathlessly, like he’d been running. I heard the electronic jangle and mayhem of a Las Vegas casino in the background. “We found it, we figured it out.”
I clutched the phone tighter. “Peter! Oh my God, are you okay? What’s going on? What’s happening? Where’s Grant?”
“Grant’s with me, I found him, he’s got the solution!”
“The solution—” But we’d already caught the djinn. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him. “Peter, a lot’s happened here since you left. Can I talk to Grant?”
“Sure, here he is.” I heard shifting noises as he passed the phone over.
“Kitty,” said a cool, unflappable voice. “I’ve discovered how they did it. How the Band of Tiamat summoned what’s been attacking you.”
“Grant, where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you, the box office said you canceled your show—”
“I ran into a bit of trouble.”
And I wouldn’t get anything more out of him than that.
“That vampire priestess, I put her at about twelve hundred, tops.” Which still made her damn scary—but not as scary as Roman. “She really did start as the priestess of a remnant of a Babylonian cult dedicated to Tiamat, but her real knowledge is in another area of magic entirely, drawn from Arabic lore. The demon she sent after you is a djinn. ”
He sounded so enthusiastic and pleased with himself—rather, as enthusiastic as he ever got, which meant his voice had a little more of a lilt to it. “Grant, I know—”
“She used several strands of your hair to work the spell and bind the demon to you. Like setting a dog on a scent. I imagine she acquired stray strands of your hair from when you were tied to her altar.”
Or when I was sprawled out in the decadent, pillow-strewn lair of the Band of Tiamat’s hotel suite, practically in their leader Balthasar’s arms. All they’d have had to do was pick my blond hairs off the upholstery. But nobody had to know about that part, did they?
“It wasn’t easy, but I destroyed the amulet of your hair.”
This might explain the little adventure he’d been having the last couple of days. The priestess probably kept that amulet very well protected, deep in her lair. Grant would have needed all his talents to accomplish the task and get out of any resulting trouble. He may even have needed Peter’s help. “The djinn is no longer bound to you. It should return to its own realm now,” he finished.
Oops. I winced. Was he saying we hadn’t needed to go through all that ritual? Surely his solution couldn’t be that simple. I’d have to work out the timing—surely he didn’t just destroy the amulet, at the same time we were working our spell. Surely he’d done it a while—an hour or more—before. Which meant the djinn was still coming after me. Which meant we really had needed to trap it.
“Grant?” I began apologetically. “We know. We bottled the thing, actually. We went ahead and worked out this plan to trap it. And, well, it worked.”
He hesitated, then said, “Did you say you bottled the djinn ?”
“Yeah. That protection spell you gave me worked really well, and we were able to use it to trap the djinn. And Tina—did Peter tell you about Paradox PI ? Anyway, Tina and Jules figured out this spell. They did it by burning my hair—I guess it’s the same principle, they just used some that was a little fresher. We’ve got it sitting here in a bottle right now. I think. It’s hard to tell. If we shake it or something, will it rattle?”
“We’re so not shaking this thing,” Tina said. She was still on the porch, cradling the bottle, like she was afraid to move.
I waited through another long pause. He said, “Hmm. I see. Interesting.”
“Are you angry?” I said.
“Of course not. I think I’m impressed. I’ll want to talk to your Paradox PI friends, find out exactly what they did.”
“I think they’ll be fine with that,” I said.
“And Kitty? Take very, very good care of that bottle. It’s secured? Sealed tightly?”
“I think so.”
“This isn’t over yet—the vampire priestess is still at large, and as long as the cult remains intact, they’re a danger, but I have an idea. Can you bring the djinn here to Vegas? We can dispose of it and its mistress at the same time.”
I’d fly to Vegas on a red-eye for a chance to see that.
“I’ll get there as soon as I can. And Grant—thank you. Thanks for sticking your neck out.”
He said, “I’m duty bound to help. And we’re not finished yet.”
“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m in Vegas. Don’t get in any trouble until I get there!”
We clicked off.
Ben gave me a dark, suspicious look. “For a minute there, it sounded like you’re going back to Vegas to face down the cult.”
I winced. “Yeah. I’m going to take that thing to Grant. He has a plan to get rid of it for good.” Ben wasn’t going to like the idea. I knew he wasn’t going to like it. We were going to have another fight, weren’t we?
He took his phone from his pocket and made a call. I stared, confused, wondering who he was calling—divorce lawyer? I couldn’t get the question out.
He twitched a smile at my expression, which must have been dumbstruck. “I’m seeing how early we can get a flight.”
“We?”
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
So, we were headed back to Vegas.