Page 24 of Infernal Bindings

“Do you or Daemon have access to the other incubi? While I’m searching the witches, you both could be searching among them. If we find one, we find them both.”

That’s brilliant. Splitting the investigation would give us a fighting chance of finding the culprit in time. “But how would we test the incubi? Daemon doesn’t have any tattoos to mark our bond. I don’t think any of them do.”

“That’s easy.” Christopher reaches into his white button-down and withdraws a golden chain from around his neck. At the end dangles some kind of lumpy gray stone—smoky quartz, I think. “This is my grounding stone,” he says. “I use it to capture negative energy. That’s why I’m so calm all the time.”

He places it on Martha’s open eye, and I cringe when the stone digs into her sclera. “I think we can redirect the spell I have on it,” he says. “Murdering someone takes a lot of negative energy. It’s bound to leave a magical signature that I can capture in the stone. When you find the incubus who killed her, it should resonate.”

“And it’s in her eye because…”

“Magical signatures can look the same if they’re channeled from a similar source. By linking the spell to someone Martha saw that night, it’ll reduce false positives.”

“There were thousands of witches in the rotunda—”

“But there weren’t thousands of demons. We also channel from completely different sources. Light witches take from the earth, and from our angels when they allow it. Angels and demons channel directly from the afterlife. This stone will only resonate when the magical signature and the eye contact from her memory match up. It’s a very narrow bandwidth.”

I’m still not entirely sure how it works, or how effective it’ll be, but Christopher seems confident enough. Cracking his knuckles, he leans over the body and begins whispering incantations—not in Latin but in the angels’ tongue.

Nothing happens. There’s no light. No thrum of energy. No magical pulse or gust of wind. It’s like the angels don’t want him to cast it.

“Alright, Gabriel. Thanks for the help,” Christopher mutters.

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know.” Christopher paces around the body, his brows drawn in concentration. “My magic has never not worked before. Gabriel has never refused to let me channel him.”

“So, no spell?”

He shakes his head. “No. It just means I have to get creative. Give me your hand—the one with the tattoo.”

I do, though I’m not sure why.

Christopher rolls up my shirt sleeve and gently clenches his hand over my wrist. “I’m going to tell you something the elders don’t want you to know. This bond makes you one of the strongest witches in our coven. You can channel directly from the demon who gave it to you, and now—with that mark from Salios—we can take the magic we need directly from him.”

That’s… horrifying.

Stealing magic from Daemon, let alone an archdemon, is a massive violation—the kind I imagine neither would take kindly to. It’s no surprise Daemon didn’t tell me about it. This could probably hurt him—at the very least drain him—leaving him all but defenseless.

“We shouldn’t.”

As if sensing my thoughts, Christopher says, “We won’t take from Daemon, only Salios. I promise.”

I hesitate before agreeing, and then Christopher teaches me the Angelic words to his spell. We recite them several times until I’m practically an expert, though I have no idea what they mean. Holding hands, we step up to Martha together.

“Now, channeling is about intent,” he says. “Picture Salios, and only Salios, when we start the incantation.”

I frown. “But he and Daemon look the same.”

“Oh.” Something unreadable flickers in Christopher’s expression, and his face twists with it. Half a blink later, it’s gone, smoothed over into something neutral. “Try envisioning him on his throne then, in a location Daemon can’t be.”

“I can do that.” With my free hand, I give Christopher a thumbs-up. “I’m ready when you are.”

He opens his mouth to begin the spell when footsteps squeak down the hallway, rushing toward us—the mortician, Sam. His face is a red and sweaty mess by the time he peeks into the room.

“We’ve got company. You two need to go. Now.”

12

BODY TRAYS