Michele Hauf - An American Witch In Paris

He shook the man’s hand, noting he always wore black leather half gloves that exposed his fingers. He needed only cover the thorns on his knuckles to prevent an accident.

“Good to see you, man.” Ed nodded over Ethan’s shoulder. “Who is this pretty?”

Tuesday, who had followed Ethan into the building at a distance, was acting petulant, yet she strolled forward and offered her hand to shake. “Tuesday Knightsbridge.”

Ed clasped her hand. “The witch. I’ve heard about you.”

“You have? From who?”

“My girlfriend, Tamatha Bellerose.”

“Bellerose? Oh, yes, her mother is Petrina. I know that witch.” And the quickness with which Tuesday pulled her hand from the demon’s clasp clued Ethan she probably didn’t have a good relationship with the family. “Just in Paris for a visit,” she added. “Forced, as it is.”

Ed looked to Ethan for explanation.

“Tuesday is helping me to locate a demon. That’s why I wanted to check in with you. See if you’ve any information that may lead us to him.”

Ed leaned against the desk behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which demon?”

“The Beautiful One,” Tuesday said before Ethan could say the name.

“Ah. Gazariel.” Ed winced and rubbed his jaw. “I do know he’s in town. But haven’t a clue where. He hasn’t been making much noise so he’s not on my give-a-fuck radar. Why is she helping? You only require a witch when you need to summon a demon from Beneath or Daemonia.”

“I’m bait,” Tuesday said, tossing out the words at the same time Ethan said, “She’s my lure for the demon.”

“You two don’t get along very well, do you?”

Ethan kept an eye on Tuesday as she walked about the demon’s office, looked over the marble conference table and then wandered to the wall where various artifacts were displayed on small individual shelves.

“We had to take her away from her home to get her to work with us,” Ethan offered.

“Kidnapped me,” Tuesday called over her shoulder as she peered into a glass container that likely held faery dust. The contents sparkled in all colors from the afternoon sun beaming in through the windows.

“Sounds on par for Acquisitions,” Ed said. “So, a lure, eh? Why would Gazariel be interested in that witch?”

“She wears his sigil. Or that is the information we have.”

Ed stood and now he gave Tuesday his full attention. She turned from her curious seeking and splayed her hands. “Yep, I’m the demon’s bitch. I carry his curse. And Einstein here thinks that’ll draw him to me. Idiot.”

“He’ll come to you. We just have to get you close enough he puts up his head and notices,” Ethan said. “Give him a sniff of the witch’s scent.”

“He’s not going to be attracted to the one who wears his curse,” Ed said. “Why would he? I know a bit about The Beautiful One. He put an unwanted curse in her many centuries ago when he had the opportunity. And now he’s done with it. I’m not sure of the nature of the curse, but if the demon wants it gone from him, there’s not a thing in this world that would incline him to set one foot near her now. She’s useless.”

“Hey! I can hear you,” Tuesday called. The blue glass sphere she had touched wobbled and rolled off the shelf. She caught it just before it hit the floor. “Oops. Good save, though, yeah?”

“Don’t touch the breakables,” Ethan said, chastising the overly curious witch. And to Ed he said, “Are you serious? But we need her to open that curse and hold Gazariel so he will submit.”

“Why do you need him to submit?”

“He’s got something that Acquisitions wants.”

Ed lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s a book of angel names and sigils. A muse wrote it. It holds the code for the Final Days.”

“Is that thing back in circulation? I thought the angel Raphael had taken it underwing, so to speak?”

“It made a series of exchanges before Raphael secured it from a vampire intent on populating the world with nephilim. Let’s just say it’s been in so many hands, even the Archives’ records are confused as to where it was last seen before landing in the demon’s hands. But I have good intel that The Beautiful One currently has it.”

“Doesn’t sound like a party.”

“It’s not. The list of angel names, when ordered correctly, holds an ancient coded word, or words, that when spoken, will send all angels plummeting to earth to smother mankind with their multitudes. Their wings will burn human flesh, young and old. Paranormals are not exempt, either. The earth will become an ashy cemetery of the mortal, the paranormal and the divine.”

“Whew!” Ed ran a gloved hand through his slick hair. “That’s something you want to stop. But your challenge will be getting the demon to come to you, without knowing you’ve got the witch, and then surprising him with her at just the right moment.”

Ethan’s temples had begun to pulse. He hadn’t expected this particular complication. If he would have known before the demon didn’t want anything to do with the witch, he wouldn’t have bound himself to her until after they’d secured Gazariel. Of course, he needed Tuesday to bring the demon to him. This was a mess. Had she known as much?

Her self-satisfied grin answered that one for him.

“Keep her out of sight until you need her,” Ed suggested.

“Too late. I bound myself to her to keep her close and protect myself from any retaliatory magic.”

“Then you’ve got a problem, Pierce.”

No need to state that one out loud. Tuesday’s soft tsking sounds riled him and Ethan fisted his hands. Yet when he saw her smile beam at sight of his anger, he relented the knuckle-whitening clutch. The witch would not get under his skin. He was smarter than this. And he didn’t need to snap a rubber band to remind him of that.

He turned to Ed. “Can you help by telling me where Gazariel might be?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“But you keep tabs on all the demons—how can you know he’s in the city and not have a location on him?”

“It’s a feeling, Pierce, not an exact science or even a map. Believe me, I would help you if I could. The Beautiful One is from Beneath, so you might start at l’Enfer.”

The Devil Himself’s nightclub. It was frequented by demons, vamps, werewolves and most any sort looking for dark and devious indulgences. Just the place Ethan wanted to visit. Not.

“Hey, how much you want for this?” Tuesday waggled a pearlescent alicorn she’d found on a shelf.

Ed shrugged. “You can take it.”

“What? Are you serious?” The witch actually tittered with glee. “You do know how valuable this is?”

“It’s...” Ed winced. “I should have never obtained that thing. It was taken from innocence. It’s not something I have a right to own. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it for a while now. You’d be doing me a favor by taking it.”

“Nice!” Tuesday stabbed the air with the thing. “I can so use this.”

Ethan could but shake his head and wish the day would get better.

“I guess you’ll be clubbing then?” Ed offered as he extended his hand to shake.

“Sounds like it.” Ethan thanked the man and started out of the room, knowing Tuesday would have to follow. Sooner or later.

As he got on the elevator, the witch entered, twirling the alicorn gaily. “I got a prize,” she teased.

“What the hell can you do with that thing?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. By the way, I’m going to need some magical supplies. You whisked me away from home and cauldron. I need certain items to work magic, put up wards and generally survive.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged and tapped the alicorn against her jaw. “This is a start. There’s got to be magic shops in the city. And you’ll have to pay, sweetie, since my kidnapper decided against bringing along my purse. And I’ll be needing some clothes as well. Can’t go clubbing looking like this, can I?”