I frowned at Parrish's inert shadow. Another suspicious thought occurred to me. "You're running from someone, too, aren't you?" "Let's just say an unfortunate incident caused me to consider a permanent relocation."

"You p.i.s.sed someone off," I translated.

"Not precisely. Unless you consider that someone myself."

"I'm confused," I admitted.

"I'll tell you all about it come nightfall. I promise. That is, if I can stay here?"

I let out a sigh that let him know he'd won.

"Thank you," he said. Then his head flopped down against the beanbag, and Parrish went back to the sleep of the dead.

With Parrish pa.s.sed out on my favorite napping spot, I had no excuse not to do the dishes. I don't really enjoy washing up, but the apartment didn't come with a dishwasher, and I've discovered that there's a certain rhythm to the work that gets me kind of Zen: scrub, rinse, stack, repeat.

Besides, the kitchen was sunny and cozy. An archway led to the tower, a small, circular room with windows on all sides. Sunlight streamed in everywhere. I'd opened them to let in the smell of the neighbor mowing his lawn. The door was closed to protect the sleeping Parrish from the harmful UV light.

I loved my kitchen. As a Witch, I'd very consciously worked at making the hearth the heart of my home.

Maple cabinets stretched from floor to ceiling, and like most kitchens built in the Victorian era, mine was narrow and cramped. Instead of trying to work against that, I brought the walls in closer with a peachy-yellow paint and filled the shelves with books and various knickknacks. I displayed my grandmother's needlework in frames on the walls. The kitchen was my nest.

As I worked at a particularly tenacious glob of melted cheese stuck to the side of my favorite copper-bottomed pot, I thought about the last few days. They'd been doozies, starting with Lilith's destruction of my driver's license.

Lilith certainly had been omnipresent in the past forty-eight hours. Never since the first night we merged had She been so... there. We used to share this body without a lot of ha.s.sle. Honestly, most days I barely remembered She possessed me. On average, She let me live a fairly routine life. Sometimes I'd have to control her rising when I felt a particularly strong emotion, like anger or, well, even s.e.xual desire, but I'd always won before. I'd always been able to contain Her.

I shivered, remembering the helplessness of being discorporate. How had She done that? And not one, but two dreams in which She spoke to me?

Something was seriously wrong.

I had to put a lot of elbow grease into dislodging the goop, and the bite mark on my shoulder throbbed in protest. Then there was Sebastian. Lilith didn't like him; that much was obvious. I liked him quite a bit, but he definitely came with complications: an irritating son, the corpse of a lover who was dead/not dead whom he clearly still pined after, and... well, and now there was the matter of the stolen book, whichwas not entirely my fault, but a difficulty nonetheless.

Now to top off an insanely bizarre couple of days, the only other vampire lover of my life shows up, unannounced, looking for a place to stay. d.a.m.ned if Parrish's appearance didn't seem a bit too coincidental for my taste. I couldn't see how all the pieces fit together yet, but I felt a strong sense that everything was connected somehow.

Barney jumped onto the countertop and made a slow, deliberate procession across the back of the sink, delicately stepping around the faucets. Pausing at the pile of dishes blocking her way, she glared meaningfully at me, as if to say, "This obstructs me. Remove it."

"I'll put the dishes away in a minute," I lied. I had no intention of touching the pile of drip-drying dishes and utensils I'd precariously stacked in the drainer on the counter. I disliked washing, but I absolutely loathed putting things away. Why put everything back in the cabinets, if you're only going to pull them out again? Much easier to just retrieve them from the counter, I figured.

Instead, I pulled the plug. Barney and I watched the sc.u.mmy soapsuds disappear down the drain.

"What's your theory?" I asked her. "Why is Parrish really here?"

Her drawn-out meow sounded a bit like "I dunno."

"What about Lilith?" I asked my cat. "Why is She so powerful right now?"

Barney apparently had an answer to that, because she leapt over to the bookcase that held all my recipes and the ephemeris, which I used to cast my daily progress chart.

I spent the next several hours poring over my astrological textbooks.

First of all, I read up on Jupiter. Jupiter is called the "great benefic." It's the astrological symbol of fortune, luck, optimism, and generosity. When any planet goes retrograde, its energy is considered blocked. So the short of it was that with Jupiter retrograde, I couldn't count on getting a lucky break.

Anything that could go wrong, would.

Which fit directly with my next discovery.

Lilith, the asteroid, had moved into a powerful new position in my natal chart. That is to say, the asteroid had returned to the precise location in the sky it had been on the day of my birth. Not surprisingly, Lilith was, as we say in the astrological business, well aspected in my birth chart- almost all of my major planets interacted with the asteroid in one way or the other. Thus, Lilith influenced every part of my life.

With Lilith's return to the same placement, all those bonds were reenergized.

"Wow," I said when I looked up at Barney, who lay sprawled across the pile of books and papers I'd spread all over the kitchen table. "Lilith must be drawing on all this activity to boost Her power over me."

Barney cracked open one yellow eye. She extended her front paws until the flash of claw showed. Then settling back down, she rested her chin on her outstretched limbs with a huff of a sigh.

"Well, excuse me for being so slow," I muttered, rubbing her exposed belly fur. Barney shifted onto her back so I could reach more of her tummy and began purring contentedly.

According to my computations, the asteroid would be in this position on and off for the next several days. Lilith the G.o.ddess would be able to tap into this power during that entire time. Picking up my pencil, I chewed on the eraser.

Barney looked briefly put out that I'd stopped single-mindedly rubbing her belly, but after a little shift of her shoulder blades so she could cover more of my pile of papers with her body, she shut her eyes.

Closing the book I'd been consulting, I sat back in my chair. I tapped the pencil against my chin. So now that I knew where Lilith got the strength to take over my body, how could I stop her from doing it again whenever she liked-especially since the transit was supposed to last until next Wednesday? And then, in the way of the "wanderers," would be back again for another few hits over the next few days.

I got up ostensibly to get myself a soda from the fridge but, really, I think best on my feet. Barney, who had started to snore, didn't even twitch a whisker as I made my way across the creaky linoleum, which was good, because I knew she wouldn't approve of the answer already forming in my head.

Magic.

What else was there, really? The true question was, what kind of spell should I use? Would a general protection spell counter the celestial vibrations from the asteroid? I could certainly perform a quickie protection spell this afternoon that would cover me for a month and a day. Considering the company I was keeping and the threat of the Vatican agents, it was probably a good idea, anyway. I made plans to do one as soon as I could work my way to my bedroom and the attic door.

Barney's nose twitched in her sleep. She huffed, cracked open her eyes to give me a dirty look, stretched a paw to cover more of my books and papers, then settled back into her nap.

Grabbing a soda from the bottom shelf of the fridge, I contemplated something more serious. Maybe it was time to excise Lilith completely. I'd considered evicting Lilith before. I even made a couple attempts right after we bonded, but found that I just didn't command enough power alone. She always knew what I was up to and fought against me. I figured if I was going to succeed, I needed the full strength of a coven behind me, or at the very least another Witch who was in on the plan. Yeah, it would be handy if I hadn't p.i.s.sed off Sebastian, because a Witch his caliber was probably just what the doctor ordered.

Although... in the last couple of hours, Lilith had taken over twice now without any fatal consequences: first when she defended against the ghost and again when she stole the book. She apparently had some kind of chat with Sebastian the first time I unleashed Her, and the second time She just used my body to steal his book.

c.r.a.p. The book. It was still in the grocery bag by the door in the living room.

My first impulse was to scurry in there while Parrish still slept and retrieve it quickly so I could hide it somewhere. Then again, it was probably smarter to leave it where it was so as not to draw attention to it.

Leaning against the windowsill, I cracked open the top of my pop and took a long swig. The sun warmed my back, and the smell of freshly cut gra.s.s drifted in through the window. I set the can down with a sigh.

I laid a hand on my stomach. Lilith thought Sebastian's grimoire held the key to life. Something shewanted only women to have.

Okay, Iwas curious.

I tiptoed over to the kitchen door and slowly swung it open. I made sure to keep the light out of the path of Parrish's inert body. He hadn't moved-not one muscle. His body draped casually, conversationally in the beanbag. Other than the fact that his head now flopped back, he looked startlingly like he'd just sat down for a friendly little chat.

I had to laugh. I mean, the guy must have known he'd be stuck in whatever position he lay down in, and so gone to the effort to artfully arrange himself for maximum s.e.x appeal. There was something both pathetic and endearing about that.

Parrish seemed intensely pa.s.sed out, but I crept across the hardwood, conscious of every creak and squeak. When I bent to pull the book out of the bag, I heard him mumble, "Nice view."

"I thought you were asleep," I said, turning around, clutching the book to my chest.

He'd lifted his head, and blinked slowly. "I am."

"Aren't you really vulnerable right now?" I asked him. "I mean, what if I decided I was still p.i.s.sed off about the way we broke up, and I pulled all the curtains off?"

"You broke up with me."

"That's not the point," I said, waving off my desire to remind him of some of his more hurtful parting words. "You took a big risk coming here."

"I did," he admitted.

"Why?"

Parrish pursed his lips, which in itself, I realized, took monumental effort. "It frustrates me no end that you refuse to entertain even the slightest possibility that my motivations might have been, for once, altruistic."

I shook my head. It's not that I didn'twant to believe Parrish might have acted selflessly; it scared me just a little. Parrish and I had once been very intense, and I didn't want that to ruin anything I might have with Sebastian- provided he ever spoke to me again. "Listen, Parrish, don't give me that. You yourself admitted that you needed a place to crash."

"Yes, but I'm still disappointed you won't even let me play the gallant."

I took in the long, lean form of his leather-clad body. Parrish represented the exact opposite of a gentleman; he was a con artist extraordinaire. He knew just how to worm his way back into my affections, and, perversely, that was part of his charm. Still, if we were going to be roommates, things had to remain platonic. "Go back to bed, Parrish."

"You wound me, lady."

"Good night, sweet prince." I caught the flash of a genuine smile before his head hit the beanbag with a m.u.f.fled thump.

Barney started sneezing the instant I shut the kitchen door and set Sebastian's book on the table. "Oh, come on," I said, "It's just a grimoire."

She let out a string of snorts and then shook her head violently. With a yellow-eyed glare, she hopped off the table and stalked out of the kitchen through the archway toward the adjacent tower room.

Bounding up onto the windowsill the farthest from the offending book, she turned her back on me.

If anything, Barney's display made me more curious about the contents of Sebastian's book of shadows.

With some antic.i.p.ation, I opened it up and then immediately felt like a complete idiot.

It wasn't in English.

I mean, of course not. I knew Sebastian was Austrian; he'd told me that. Even if I could read German or Latin or whatever, I doubted I could decipher any of this. Languages tended to change over the course of a thousand years. I might have a shot if it were Latin, because it was no longer a living language, but, honestly, my Latin was limited to the occasional botanical term and the phrasedeus ex machina , one of which I could use right now.

Since I had nothing better to do, I flipped randomly through the book. I a.s.sumed Sebastian must have recopied his notes, since the paper or vellum or whatever it was didn't completely crumble to the touch, though it felt pretty fragile. The pages smelled a little moldy, but I was impressed that the grimoire held together after all this time.

Returning to the start, I noticed Sebastian had written 1824 inside the cover followed by some words I couldn't read, then 1206. Feeling pretty brilliant, I surmised that the first was the date of the recopy, and the second the date for the original.

I was off to a good start.

There were other Arabic numerals scattered throughout the text, but none of them made any sense to me, not even the mathematical formula that took up several pages. I did, however, recognize some astrological symbols. I spent several minutes puzzling out something that looked vaguely like a natal chart, but gave up when I realized the houses were organized by some arcane method. Plus, it offended my modern sensibilities to be missing Ura.n.u.s, Neptune, and Pluto, none of which had been discovered at the time.

I shut the book, feeling overwhelmed. Rubbing my neck, I decided what I needed more than anything was a shower and a nap, not necessarily in that order.

I crept past Parrish to my bedroom. When I thought I saw him lift his head a bit, I hurried my step and slipped into the room before he could say anything.

My door didn't have a lock, at least not a physical one. Shutting my eyes, I allowed my magic to surface. Extending my senses outward, I found the elements I kept on the shelf altar in my room for justthis purpose: a polished river pebble for earth, a goose feather for air, a book of matches for fire, a silver goblet for water, and a black onyx Nile G.o.ddess statue for spirit. A tingle of power rose from my feet like water drawn up the roots of a tree. When I felt it cascade out from the crown of my head, I put my left palm on the door. My right hand I placed on my abdomen, over my womb. Normally, a Witch would hold her hand upward for the G.o.ddess, but mine resided within me.

"Unless I ask, none shall pa.s.s," I said. "So I will, so mote it be."

I traced a pentacle in the center of the door, then pushed a thread of power into it.

The thread appeared in my mind's eye like gold wire. I wove it in and out of the deep purple pentagram, like a st.i.tch. When I finished, the pentagram glittered with gold. I would be safe behind the door now. No one could enter.

Since I was in magical mode, I grabbed my athame off the shelf and headed for the attic to perform my quickie protection spell. I always kept the door to the attic locked, though I left the key hanging on the k.n.o.b. It was another reminder to me that I had left magic behind. I reasoned that if I had to go to the effort of opening the door each time, I'd be more conscious of why I was there.

I had a twinge of guilt when I turned the skeleton key. I'd feel pretty darn violated if I discovered someone had rifled throughmy personal s.p.a.ce. I had a book of shadows, a grimoire. I wrote down my rituals, spell work, and kept a kind of journal of my Witchy experiences in it. It was not unlike a diary, actually, full of secrets and personal observations about my Craft. Of course, mine was in English, and Sebastian could read it, if he'd taken it.

I walked up the steep, dusty wooden stairs. Though I'd painted the walls to correspond with the directions, they were unfinished, exposed rafters. My landlord, who always started more than he could handle, had put a skylight into the south-facing ceiling, and a shaft of sunlight fell directly on my altar.

Otherwise the dormers disappeared into darkness.

My altar was a round, knee-high table, which was still draped in the green cloth I'd used for Oestre, Spring Equinox. A bra.s.s chalice I'd picked up at a church bas.e.m.e.nt rummage sale sat in the center. The altar looked woefully empty to me. Often a Witch's altar was a kind of collage of personal meaning. The altar I'd left behind in Minneapolis had overflowed with things I'd collected over a lifetime: images from books, statuary, tarot cards, curios, crystals, rocks pocketed in the midst of meaningful adventures, and even a favorite Valentine's card from a friend.

Though it looked sort of sad, I'd purposely left this altar bare. I could, of course, have purchased any number of adornments from the store. That would have been a cheat. Anything I bought would have been devoid of real meaning. I didn't want to simply crowd up my altar for the sake of filling it. In a way, I used its emptiness to remind me of why I kept practicing when it might be easier to give up my Witchcraft all together. The bareness was a memorial to those I'd left behind, slain by the Order.

I stood for a moment at the threshold. My altar sat in the center of a white pentacle I'd painted on the floor. I took a deep, calming breath before setting foot inside the circle. I loved having a permanent sacred s.p.a.ce. At my apartment in Minneapolis, I hadn't had access to the whole attic, not to mention the fact that my previous landlady was the only holdout Republican in the Seward neighborhood.

I remembered leaving that morning after. Parrish dropped me off at my apartment, and I made a mad dash through my Minneapolis apartment, trying to decide what to take with me. Barney got stuffed in her carrier with only Grandma's quilt for comfort. Into my duffel, I'd shoved my toothbrush, a bottle ofvitamins, a comb, makeup bag, a pair of jeans, and as many shirts and tops as I could jam in. I had a shoe box full of photos I'd meant to organize one day, but even though I tore apart all of the closet s.p.a.ce in the apartment, I never found it. In the end I decided losing it was for the best. If I remembered who I used to be, it would break my resolve, my heart.

As I went through the traditions of casting the circle and calling quarters, I felt the outside world slip away. I was between the worlds now, in a s.p.a.ce that belonged to the G.o.ddess and me. Time stopped.

From a banker's box I kept under the table, I pulled out a large white candle and some matches. I lit the candle. It was unscented and had the image of two gold rings joined together. It was obviously meant for a wedding; I'd bought it from a factory outlet. I liked the idea of using it for a ritual, though, since in many ways ritual s.p.a.ce was in that same place-the meeting of two circles, one anch.o.r.ed in earth, the other not.

I rifled through my box for the other items I'd need: a flask of rainwater and a silver coin: a Mercury dime someone pa.s.sed me at the store without realizing what it was. I took it thinking I'd use it for a spell someday, since it's otherwise hard to find coins made from silver.

I poured the water into the chalice. Previously, under the light of a full moon, I'd charged the water. That is, I'd poured my energy into it, consecrating it, making it magical by investing it with purpose. Pagan holy water. The Order wouldlove that.

Of course, I shouldn't have been charging water at all. That was spell work. I was supposed to have given up all that. I'd just woken up one night with a craving. It was embarra.s.sing; I was a serious magic junkie. No wonder Lilith continued to get stronger. I fed her constantly.

I shook my head to banish the thought. I concentrated on the task at hand. Into the goblet filled with water, I dropped the silver coin.

I held the cup up to the sunlight, which I imaged as the strong, loving arms of a protective, peaceful G.o.ddess.

"O G.o.ddess Bright, hold me tight. Watch over me now, day and night."