Hexed (4 page)

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Buck took a tentative step forward to get a better look at the mirror. “Yeah, I'm sure. No symbols. Just pictures of friends, notes, that sort of thing. Nothing like that.”

Buck reached out to touch the glass. Lucifer grabbed him so fast that the slap of her palm on his wrist sounded like a gunshot. “Don't touch.” Quickly, she tossed the bedsheet back over the mirror.

“No symbols, that's good. And bad,” she said. Lucifer began thumbing through the pages of the book. “If her vanity had any of these symbols, I'd know exactly where your daughter is. But since it doesn't, she's not there. That's a good thing.”

“What's the bad?”

“All the other places she could be.”

Buck desperately grabbed Lucifer by the shoulders. “What places? Tell me so I can go find her! Where's my daughter?”

Lucifer looked up from the book and very calmly said, “Officer Pierce, don't make me put you in another headlock.”

He let go of her shoulders as if he had touched a hot stove. “Oh . . . I apologize. I just . . . I just need to find her.”

Lucifer held the open book out for Buck to look at. The pages were brittle and yellowed with age, but the words and illustrations were still plain to see. “The thing that took her. Was this it?”

Buck took the book and squinted. On the page was an old woodcut image of a two-headed creature with tentacles for arms and one very fat, very short leg. “No. It looked like a woman. Very tall. Old with frazzled hair. Brunette, or was when she was younger. Black dress, tattered from age and her smile . . . Good God, her smile . . .”

Under normal circumstances, Lucifer would have been impressed. Most people can only remember a vague detail here and there. But since he was a cop, he was used to committing details to memory. Unfortunately, what he was describing was worse than the creature in the book.

Lucifer walked over to a small shelf on the far wall and grabbed a leather-bound notebook. Behind her, she could hear Buck flipping pages. “Are these things real?” he asked.

“No,” she lied. “Here, take a look at this. Did the thing you saw look anything like this?” She pointed to a pencil sketch in the notebook. Though the sketch wouldn't win any art awards, it captured the image well enough.

“Yes! She looked like that!
Just
like that!”

Lucifer's heart sank. Even though she didn't know his daughter, she was suddenly very afraid for her. Lucifer knew that, wherever she was, she was in a great deal of danger.

“What is it?” Buck asked, his voice cracking with stress. Lucifer looked up at him and hoped he couldn't see how suddenly frightened she was.

“
That
is a witch.”

CHAPTER 4

Lucifer stood in the shadows and watched the bizarre sight. The bleachers of the Jefferson High School gymnasium were littered with dozens of students, scattered about like flies on a piece of rotten fruit. Among them was a small gaggle of girls dressed in their school colors of blue and orange sitting in a huddle toward the edge of the court. They hovered over loose papers and textbooks, pretending to study as they watched several boys playing basketball.

They were girls her age, talking, laughing, and occasionally scowling toward a fellow student or teacher that crossed their line of sight. From the outside, it was easy for Lucifer to tell which one was the leader, which one wanted to be, and which one was grateful just to be part of the group. Of course, seeing people for who they were had always been easy for her. It was one of the few benefits of always being on the outside looking in.

For just a brief moment, Lucifer wondered what it would be like to be among them. To be smiling and laughing, flirting with boys and worrying about homework instead of thieving her way through a litany of horrors the rest of the world knew nothing about. But she quickly dismissed the thought as she subconsciously scratched at the mark on her shoulder. She couldn't picture herself as an ordinary teenager any more than she could picture herself an astronaut. No matter how much she wanted to.

Lucifer made her way toward the top row where she could get a good view of everything without attracting too much attention to herself. She sat on the cold, polished wood and leaned back. The sounds of bouncing balls, squeaking shoes, and chattering giggles ricocheted around the cavernous gym, turning to soup in her ears. It must have been deafening when filled with people. How discouraging it must be for a visiting team to be bombarded by the cheering, the screaming, the chorus of hundreds all shouting at them, letting them know that they were outsiders, unwanted, villains. She may not have been able to imagine the crushing cacophony of a full gym, but the feeling was something Lucifer could imagine quite easily. For her, every day was an away game.

One of the boys slapped the ball away from another player, sending it skittering across the floor toward the group of girls. Lucifer pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head to help funnel their conversation to her ears, but they were too far away for her to hear anything other than a word or two.

She reached into her trick bag and pulled out the yearbook that Buck had given her. He had insisted on coming with her when she talked with Gina's friends, and it had taken considerable effort on Lucifer's part to convince him to let her investigate alone. Lucifer didn't think that a stranger asking questions with a desperate cop the size of a bull huffing and puffing over her shoulder was likely to get many helpful answers. So he gave her the yearbook so she would have an easier time identifying Gina's friends.

She leafed through the pages, scanning the photos Buck had circled in red. Lucifer didn't recognize any of them from the girls in the gym. But as she flipped through the yearbook, Lucifer noticed that Gina was in almost every one of the circled pictures with her friends. She was beautiful despite having been cursed with Buck's broad brow. Or maybe because of it. What was obvious was that Gina had a smile that seemed to infect everyone around her. They all wanted to be near her. It was a concept Lucifer was having difficulty imagining. What would it be like to be surrounded by people who all wanted to be close to you?

Lucifer pushed the question from her mind. It wasn't going to do her any good to start the day being jealous of a girl who was just kidnapped by a witch.

Sadly, none of the people in the photos were at the gym. But just as Lucifer was about to put the yearbook away, she recognized one of the boys playing basketball. Lucifer found one of his circled pictures in the book. It was Gina's boyfriend, David.

David was tall with a swimmer's build and a shock of black hair that sprouted from the top of his head in short, wavy curls. It seemed that every time Lucifer turned a page, there was a photograph of him: giving a speech in front of an assembly, laughing with friends in the hallway, driving the basket in a championship game.
So
this
is
what
it
looks
like
to
be
popular
, she thought.

She looked up from the yearbook and watched him drive the basket for an easy layup. He was in blue shorts and a sweaty gray tank top that clung to his smooth chest. Though he was obviously very photogenic, it was the way he moved that impressed Lucifer. While the other boys muscled their way around each other, David glided across the court with the natural grace of a dancer. It was easy to tell why he would be featured so prominently on the pages of the yearbook.

But something about him was rubbing her the wrong way. It took a moment for her to realize what it was. It was his smile. It beamed. And when one of his friends cracked a joke, David's laughter rang through the gym like a chorus of bells. He seemed happy. And that bothered her. His girlfriend had been ripped into another dimension by a witch and was suffering who-knows-what while he was here playing with his friends as if it were just another typical Saturday morning. But she knew that wasn't fair to him. Buck had told David that Gina was home, sick in bed. He had no idea what had really happened.

Lucifer walked down the bleachers toward the court. As she came closer, the group of girls stopped giggling and turned to watch her. She could feel their stares on her, like mascara-caked heat lamps boring into her skin. But it wasn't the disapproving way they stared at her that made her feel uncomfortable; it was that they were staring at her at all. Lucifer wasn't used to being noticed. She was a thief. And for a thief, being noticed was never a good thing.

She walked onto the court and headed straight for David, completely ignoring their game. “What the hell!” one of the boys said.

Lucifer craned her neck to look up at David and said, “David, can I talk to you for a sec? It's about Gina.”

David's face went pale. “Is she okay? Her dad said she had the flu. Is it something else? What is it, what's wrong?”

As far as Lucifer could tell, he seemed genuinely worried. “She's fine. But can we talk over here? Privately.”

Before David could say anything, one of the other boys said, “Hey, get off the court!”

“It's all right, Ethan,” said David.

“No, it's not all right.” Ethan hovered over Lucifer, the basketball tucked high under his arm. He was an inch taller than David with perfect skin and a face that Lucifer expected most people would consider pretty rather than handsome. But those pretty features were twisted as he scowled down at her. “You don't just walk out onto the court in the middle of a game.” Then he leaned closer and said, “You could get hurt.”

David came forward. “Calm down. I'll only be a minute.”

“Don't tell me to calm down. We're in the middle of a game. This bitch can wait until we're done.”

David and the other boys blanched. “Damn,” one of the boys said. “Someone just grew a pair.”

“Hey, easy, Ethan!” David said. “What's gotten into you?”

Lucifer had been called much worse and didn't particularly care, but she was more concerned about why he was so angry with her for interrupting the game. She didn't have much experience dealing with people in social situations, especially people her own age. She must have missed some kind of social cue, but she had no idea what it could have been.

Unfortunately, there were more important things to worry about. Lucifer wasn't sure what kind of witch had taken Gina, but she knew she had only a tiny window in which to get her back safely. Like everyone else in the world, time wasn't a friend to her.

“Your name's Ethan, right?” Lucifer asked. “I'll tell you what. Since you want to play so badly, how about you play me.” Lucifer reached into her trick bag and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “I'll bet you five dollars I can score on you in less than five seconds.”

Ethan pulled his head back in disbelief, then he and the others burst out laughing. David stood quietly, his brow tilted in mild confusion over his pale-blue eyes.

Ethan smirked at her. “You're kidding, right?”

“Five seconds.” Lucifer took the ball from under his arm and said, “Somebody count it down.”

A boy with shoulder-length blond hair said, “I'll do it. Ethan, if you get owned by a girl half your size, I'll tell Coach to move you down to JV.”

“Shut up, Greg.” Ethan frowned. “You an all-star or something?” he asked Lucifer.

Lucifer shrugged her shoulders. “Never played a day in my life. Now c'mon. Let's see who's the bitch.”

Greg laughed and said, “Okay, here we go! Ready? Five—”

As soon as Greg started counting down, Lucifer raised the ball straight over her head. Ethan reached out to snatch the ball from Lucifer's hands, his arms uncoiling as quick as vipers. When he grabbed the ball, Lucifer let go and twisted her hips as hard as she could, bringing her shin up between his legs.

There was the dull, wet sound of bone on flesh. The impact lifted Ethan clear off the ground, and he cried out with a sharp, brittle yelp. He seemed to hang in the air for a moment, confused and disoriented before falling to the ground in a fetal heap. The basketball fell and hit him in the head before rolling off the court, its bouncing pitter-patter the only sound in the suddenly silent gym.

The other boys erupted in laughter. Lucifer grabbed the five-dollar bill and tossed it down at Ethan who lay on the ground clutching his privates and struggling to breathe. “You win.” She turned to David and grabbed his arm. “You, over here.”

When they were on the far side of the court, David pulled his arm out of Lucifer's grip. “Was that really necessary?” he asked with a small twinge of anger in his voice.

“Necessary? No. Fun? Absolutely. Your friend is a jerk.”

“He's actually a pretty sweet guy.” David's expression twisted sideways again, his confused frown becoming even more striking than his eyes. “I've never seen him act like that before. I'm not sure what his problem is.”

Lucifer looked back over her shoulder to see the other boys helping Ethan slowly back to his feet. “What can I say? I bring out the best in people.”

“Yeah, who are you? What's this about Gina?”

“My name's Lucifer and I need to know what you and Gina talked about the night she . . . got sick.”

“Your name's Lucifer?”

Every. Single. Time.

“Yes, David. Now focus. What did you talk about?”

David took a step back. “What business is that of yours?”

Lucifer pinched the bridge of her nose.
It's
my
business
because
your
girlfriend
was
kidnapped
by
a
witch.
She looked up and gave David an empty smile. “It's not, David. But do you mind telling me anyway?”

“Gina has the flu. What could our phone call have to do with that?”

Buck had told Lucifer that he actually liked David. Well, liked him as much as a father could like a boy who was dating his only daughter, anyway. He liked him because David was not only a star athlete; he was also one of the brightest kids in the school. So Lucifer wanted to see just how bright he really was.