Daughter to Demons

by Jeffrey M. Mahr and Levanah

Part Three:
Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend

Chapter Twelve:
Keep the Home Fires Burning

Home is the place where, when you have to go there,
They have to take you in.
― Robert Frost, Death of the Hired Man, North of Boston, 1915

“Hi honey, I’m home,” Frank called as he kicked the apartment door shut with his foot. Dropping his grocery bags on the kitchen counter, he continued on into her bedroom. Not finding Jackie anywhere, he strolled back to the kitchen and checked for a note stuck on the refrigerator. He found one.

I’m at Hank and Sarah’s house. Back about 7 PM. Love, Jackie

“Damn. Dinner alone again,” Frank muttered. He was disappointed that Jackie wasn’t home waiting for him. Even though it had been only nine hours since he had last seen her, he missed her. “Grabbing a spoon, he pulled a quart of Wonton Soup out of one of his bags and slouched over to the couch. Television controller in hand, he started flicking through channels.

Jackie came wafting in at a quarter to eleven. Seeing her boyfriend asleep on the couch, she slipped her shoes off and tiptoed to her bedroom. Slipping into her sexiest peignoir, Jackie came up behind Frank and began tickling his nose with one of the fine silk cords that tied it at the waist. When he woke enough to groggily brush at the irritant, she couldn’t help herself. She began to giggle.

Realizing what was happening, he croaked out, “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. I’m sorry, Honey, but Aunt Sarah had some friends over and we were talking. Oh, and Hank offered me a job. It’s just a consulting job, but it’s a start.”

“That’s wonderful. With both of us working, we’ll be able to afford that house down payment even sooner. Uh, it’s not another one of those serial killer investigations is it?” Frank asked, suddenly worried.

“Nope. Uncle Hank wrangled this one, but it’s with Robbery, not Homicide. Apparently, there’s been a rash of diamond thefts.”

“And they need a Humanities major? No slight intended, but I don’t understand the connection.”

“Good, because if you did, I’d have to punish you horribly.” Suddenly Jackie looked like a walking corpse with skin sloughing off in spots and one eyeball hanging loosely on her cheek from a slimy strand of optic nerve.

“That’s not going to work,” Frank replied laughing as he grabbed Jackie by the waist and hugged her close to him, despite her hideous appearance. “I know it’s still you under that gruesome glamour.” He sniffed suspiciously. “You could use a bath, though. The formaldehyde smell is a bit over the top.”

“Drat. Now I’ll have to think of something really bad.” But Jackie was smiling as she said it and was instantly her usual beautiful self. “Anyway, to answer your question, there are what they describe as ‘runes’ engraved on each safe and the owners swear that the safes, or vaults, some of them very modern, were locked, and were still locked after the thefts. Additionally, no alarms went off, either during the robberies or thereafter, and one of the safes had a continuous video and electronic status monitor installed which showed the jewels being locked into the safe, nothing happening all night long, and then the drawers the jewels had been locked in all night long were opened to reveal, dah-dum! Nothing. No jewels, no nothing, not even a ‘Thank you’ note. Finally, there was a faint aroma of some sort of unusual perfume.”

“So you’re going to consult on brands of perfume?” Frank asked and immediately raised his hands to protect himself from the battering he knew was to come from the throw pillow beside them. When it failed to materialize, he peeked through his fingers to see Jackie waiting for him to do exactly that. The first blow arrived before he could close his eyes again. By the third blow, they were laughing so hard they fell off the couch. Somehow, on the way down they ended up in each other’s arms, kissing and hugging for a few minutes before Jackie pulled away….”

“Sorry, Frank,” she sighed. “I’m starting to feel hungry, and that ain’t good. I’m getting better, though. That was two minutes and thirty-seven seconds, our longest make-out session yet. By my calculations, it will only be another hundred and fifty-five years before we can spend the night together.” She looked as if she might start to cry.

Frank shrugged and patted her hand lightly. “It’s okay, Jackie. I knew that our relationship would be difficult when I took it on. I love you, and I know that you love me, and that’s what counts for me, at least. Seriously now,” he said, changing the subject back to work, “what will you be doing? And I promise not to interrupt again.”

“Well, I kind of liked the interruption,” Jackie pouted, but propped herself up on an elbow and continued her explanation. A dark pink aureole kept peeking out from above the loose bodice of her peignoir with each breath.

“At least I won’t interrupt if you promise to stop that,” Frank reached out and tickled the offending piece of anatomy. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

With a half-smile, half-pout, Jackie covered herself and then continued. “Actually, they’ve already brought in a perfume expert to no avail. He claimed that it wasn’t a perfume at all, but only an odor — body odor maybe, or the remnants of whatever was used to etch the runes onto the steel sides of the safes.”

“I’m not interrupting here, but I can pretty well assure you that nothing that smells anything like the kinds of acids that would be needed to etch something on hardened steel would smell anything like a perfume.”

“It’s nice having an engineer for a boyfriend,” Jackie noted as she ruffled his hair. “I had come to that conclusion too. Apparently so have the police. They’ve assumed that these were a series of inside jobs since the only damage has been the markings.”

“I’ll bet Uncle Hank doesn’t share that view, does he?”

“Nope, and neither do I. Luckily, Saul Pearlmutter is Chairman of the City Council and owns the jewelry shop that experienced the largest losses from the robberies. He put pressure on the Chief of Police to come up with something creative to solve the robbery. The Chief, of course, turned to his best officer in the field….”

“Uncle Hank.”

“Exactly, despite the fact that his two top detectives, Mutt and Jeff, I think their names were, are now officially miffed. They’d lost a lot of credibility during the DeBauck investigation, or so it seems.”

“And Uncle Hank brought you in,” Frank added helpfully.

“Hey, you said no interruptions. Now I get to attack you again, but if I do I’ll never get to the best part of my news. What to do? What to do?” Jackie moaned playfully.

“One second, hon,” Frank said, interrupting her soliloquy before it really got started. Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he wrote on Jackie’s hand, “IOU 1 attack.” Then he signed it.

“Much better. I’m holding you to that,” Jackie said with a sultry look, then laughed and continued. “Anyway, Frank convinced them that I, with my arcane knowledge of mythology and the mystic arts, could decipher the ‘runes.’ or markings, whatever they are, in the ostensible hope of discovering some political group behind the ‘heist’ who felt compelled to brag about their feat in ancient Norse or whatever, and covertly to ascertain if there was magic involved. The best part that is the Chief is under so much pressure that you get a job too. He wants a professional engineer to examine the safes for any possible way of opening them.

“He is grasping at straws, isn’t he?”

“Yup. But he feels a tad guilty about your arrest, and his discomfort is our chance to work together. That’s the real good news,” Jackie bubbled with excitement.

“Whoa. Slow down, hon. I love the thought of working side by side with you, but I’d like a few details.”

“Last time I checked, your favorite was blonde, 36-22-35, five foot ten, and a hundred and twenty-two delectably perfect pounds.” Jackie posed saucily. “How’m I doin’?”

Frank laughed. “I’m not going to get too much more information out of you for a while, am I?”

“Nope.” Frank acceded to the inevitable, although when he could think again, he had to admit it was enjoyable, in a roughhouse sort of way.

“Thank God for Sunday church services or I’d never get any time to rest,” Frank chuckled to himself as he waited in the car for Jackie. It had been a hectic weekend, most of it spent by Jackie, comparing the crime scene pictures of the scratches to her reference texts, doing general research, more time than she would have liked spent on such necessities as preparing Frank’s meals, cleaning, and shopping, with very little allocated to interpersonal exploration, which was still difficult. Even after her encounter with the Salamander, she still found it difficult to control the lust and hunger that rose in her if she became too terribly excited, and didn’t want to take any chance of having Frank wind up as Françoise, her new girlfriend.

Jackie was usually ready before him, but not on Sunday mornings. This morning she was getting dressed in real clothes, as opposed to the illusions she often used when in a hurry. There was a solidity and comfort to real cloth, real textures, and real colors that she liked, because she could feel them on many levels, as if they had a sort of life of their own, made up of their combined physical reality and the creativity and emotions of the people who’d designed and made them.

When she cloaked herself in illusion, it didn’t feel all that different to her from nudity, since the manifested garments were inherently insubstantial, and all she had to do was wish and the clothes would melt into air, into thin air, but her budget couldn’t handle too many new outfits, especially the couture outfits she secretly coveted, because the vital energy that custom garments contained was almost intoxicating. She subscribed to Women’s Wear Daily now, as well as Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and Vanity Fair, because the outfits they featured were delightful just to see, and she could hardly imagine what it must be like to actually wear such lovely things.

Just as he prepared to honk the car’s horn, Jackie scurried out and jumped into the passenger’s seat. He was already backing out of their assigned parking space before she had her seatbelt on.

“So explain to me again,” Frank asked as soon as they were on the main road. “What am I expected to do?”

“As I understand it, the Chief expects you to discover how the safes were opened using conventional — and by that I mean non-magical — means.”

“But you said that you and Hank are certain that it was a magic user,” Frank replied. “I’m confused.”

“Well, how do you think Hank feels?” she asked him. “Having a wife of thirty years who’s a Phœnix now — even though no one knows exactly what that might mean — and who now looks to be about seventeen years old, and having a sort-of niece-in-law who’s somewhere between a cupid and a succubus, as well as having to arrest an insane satyr with magical powers, who has to be kept locked up with magical ‘wards’ surreptitiously set and maintained by a college professor who looks a lot like Merlin the Magician wearing an expensive suit from Mayfair, may have forced your uncle to accept the existence of magic, but he’s an army of one on the police force, since everyone else seems grounded in a different reality.”

“Well, there is that,” he admitted.

“There were enough people on the force who were convinced that he’d murdered his wife and replaced her with his girlfriend,” she said, “that it had taken considerable … influence … to convince them that Sarah’s changes were due to ‘experimental genetic therapy,’ which also accounted for her changed fingerprints.” She didn’t add that she’d supplied the influence, because he was uncomfortable with the fact that her powers — whether used for good or ill — were primarily based upon love, sexuality, and desire. While she was technically chaste — at least in a physical sense — there were quite a few people who were subconsciously convinced of a contrary belief, which made life a little difficult when she happened to run into them. She’d have to ask her mother how to do that Vulcan mind trick that made men forget.

“I know, I know,” Frank said, “but it just seems weird.”

“Well,” she said, “it is weird, if by ‘weird’ you mean experiences outside of normal human perceptions and awareness. But just think of the problems it would cause if a lot of people started to really believe that this sort of stuff existed. Some people would use it as an excuse to burn anyone they didn’t like at the stake, while others would be sacrificing babies and virgins in their efforts to talk to Satan or something equally icky.”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “It seems to me that it’s no different, really, than knowing that your accountant knows a lot more about balancing your books than you do, or a doctor knows more about how to set a broken leg than the average mechanic.”

“It’s not the same thing at all, Frank. Imagine what would happen if people started Summoning really powerful demons to do their dirty work. Not only would no one be safe, but there’d be an enormous pressure on governments to ‘handle’ the problem, which they’d be ill-equipped to do, so they’d almost certainly do something stupid. You think stories about the excesses of the House Un-American Activities Committee are bad, just wait for the Federal Office of the Holy Inquisition. What’s the proper response to Demonic Possession, torture? hanging? burning at the stake? Ask yourself if you want Hell to incorporate itself, thereby acquiring legal personhood, free-speech rights, free-trade concessions, and every politician in the world, since they’ve got all the money. Lilith alone could probably outspend the entire Western Hemisphere without blinking an eye, and as you know wouldn’t have to spend a dime to gain control of every world government, since almost all of our politicians are male. — Remind me to be irritated about that. — Heck, my own powers aren’t entirely limited to men, because any woman who’s ever been attracted to women, however slightly, falls with the scope of my supernatural warrant card as well, so I might be a ‘voting’ block on my own, challenged only by other creatures of magic, and I have, to my best knowledge and belief, somewhere around two to three million sisters.”

His eyes widened as he started considering the implications. “Oh….”

“Exactly. You might also think about the fact that the great majority of ambassadors, judges, and politicians are men, especially in the higher reaches, so I myself might be Empress of the World with a little effort, although I suppose other supernatural beings might quibble over the title. Luckily, none of us seem to be all that interested in world conquest and global domination these days.”

“So my job is to both ‘solve’ the crime and simultaneously cover it up.” He didn’t sound happy at all.

“Don’t be glum, love.” Jackie offered him a gentle pat on the leg, taking care not to arouse her boyfriend before church. “Your real job will be to save humanity from uncontrolled magic let loose in the world. Figuring out how the crime could have been committed conventionally, however improbably — and then ‘proving’ that it was — will save countless lives and preserve Western Democracy. Superman couldn’t lift a heavier burden, and if you want, I’ll let you wear spandex tights and a cape, as long as you don’t do it in the streets and scare the horses.” She gave him a little wink that promised more than she could yet deliver, but he was keeping track, she knew. “Just about all of the paranormal creatures in the world are in complete agreement here. Nothing must be done to break the Compact and let humanity know of our existence.” The Compact was new to her as well, since Lilith, her spiritual mother in this form, had only deigned to tell her of it only a few weeks ago, but she didn’t mention it. It would only add to Frank’s resentment of Lilith, but they were stuck with her, despite her quirky moods.

“To give you an idea of how important this is, right after church, I have to go see Lilith.”

“Lilith? What does the queen bitch want? Don’t tell me she’s going to help?”

“Yes, dear, she is going to help. In her own way, she loves her children and doesn’t want them exposed.”

“Why would someone who’s spent the last million years thumbing her nose at God care about the Compact? In today’s world I’d bet more people would side with her and her succubi than with the forces of light.”

“Oh, that’s cold, dear, so terribly cynical — but probably true, because so many of the so-called virtuous are only in it for the money, and many people know it, but please remember that God likes her, even if you don’t. When we get married, she’ll be your mother-in-law, so please try to cultivate a little more respect, and I’ll try very hard to do the same, and you know how easily she manages to push my buttons, no matter how often I swear to myself that things will be different next time, that we’ll get along and everything will be fine. While I too doubt that Lilith cares much about the Compact, she doesn’t want her children publicly identified because of the three ‘S’s; remember Sanvi, Sansanvi and our friend Semangelaf?”

“Good point. If that happened, she’d quickly lose at least some of her more rambunctious children, wouldn’t she?” Pulling into a parking space and stopping the car, Frank added, redundantly, “We’re here.”

Jackie got out of the car, smoothed her dress, straightened her shoulders, hooked an arm around Frank’s and marched into the church with her man.

“I’m flattered,” Lilith said and smiled as she sat beside Jackie at Calaca E. Jackie had duplicated Lilith’s form and was even flirting with a couple of the barflies.

“Thank you, Mom.”

“Not that flattered,” Lilith laughed as she indolently waved a hand and wiped the memories of the two who’d heard that she was Jackie’s mother. A moment later, they wandered away, apparently forgetting that two beautiful twins were standing beside them. Moving to a table, they sat facing each other across it. “Get on with it. I’m feeling a bit peckish, and wish to dine in peace.”

“Hey, you asked me to come here. Otherwise I wouldn’t have disturbed you.”

“At least tone it down.”

“I thought I was ‘toning it down’ as you call it. You can barely see my aura.”

“I don’t need to see how ‘light’ you’ve become to feel it. Can’t you even put up a shield?”

“Sorry, Momma Lilith, I never learned about shields. I guess my upbringing has been woefully lacking in depth as well as substance.”

“Stop calling me Momma and I’ll show you, you little brat. It’s like this, watch what I do.” She seemed to implode in on herself although the outline of her body never changed. However, when Jackie examined Lilith’s aura, it appeared dim and ghostly, almost as if the real Lilith had disappeared and a normal human being was sitting across from her.

“Nice trick. Can you show me how to do it?”

“No. You should already know, since you were able to convince that fool satyr that you were mortal, or maybe he was already insane; it’s so hard to tell with satyrs. If you are too slow to learn from what I showed you, you’re just hopeless and helpless….”

“Gee thanks. I love you too, Mom.”

“…However,” she continued, as if Jackie hadn’t spoken,“ with your permission, I will do it to you, so you can observe from an easier perspective.”

“Why do I feel like I’m making a mistake here?”

“We won’t talk about anything you’re worried about until I am perfectly comfortable,” she said.

Jackie hemmed and hawed a bit, but finally made up her mind. “Do I have your promise that you will do nothing to hurt me or mine?”

She laughed, not entirely unpleasantly. “Oh, of course, Ms. Legal Eagle. Yes, if you trust any promise from the Queen Mother of All Demons. Shall we have a contract signed in blood? Oh! Wait! We don’t have a drop of blood between us, would lipstick do? You insult me, Daughter, with your constant doubts and puerile slurs. You ‘handled’ the satyr for me, and I promised that whoever did that would be rewarded, and I always keep my promises. Why do you think I left Eden? Not that it was nearly as wonderful as they make out — too hot and dry in the summer and too cold and dry in the winter, which was very dreary before the invention of lip balms and skin moisturizers, let me tell you — but it was home for a while, and there was always fresh water for bathing, which was a real luxury in those days, even when you had to break through the ice to get at it. That scrawny little male twit wanted to extort promises from me, that I, Lilith, Firstborn Woman of Mother Earth, would be a ‘good girl’ and behave ‘respectably,’ around that pathetic little volcano godling with his phallic fixations and his temper…. Feh! What an asshole! Samael, the Archangel of Death, was a much more attentive lover, and could care two figs for respectability. We had some good times, Sammy and I.” Her gaze went unfocused a little as she thought back. “We were together for almost seven thousand years, we two, and had millions of children, most of whom are still around, somewhere. Show me a longer, or happier, marriage, and you can argue with me about my choices in life.”

“Never mind, I’ll take the risk, Mommy dearest. You want something that only I can do, so I trust you, at least until I’ve accomplished what you wish done.”

“But of course. I respect your logic,” Lilith said with a smile on her lips, but with eyes colder than ice. Jackie knew it was a risk, but hoped a visit to Father Sam could help her undo any damage, just in case.

Lilith extended a finger and lightly touched Jackie’s forehead. Instantly, Jackie felt like she had shrunk to the size of a pea and was floating inside a huge shell.

“Now move your essence back to your head so you can hear and see better.”

Jackie was about to ask how when she felt herself floating upward. Thinking ‘Whoa!’ she stopped. Then she began moving again with another thought.

“Come, come. I don’t have all day.”

“Sorry.” Jackie settled in just behind her eyes and waited as Lilith glared. She had it figured out; she could run her ætheric body by remote control, as it were, exerting her will on it as if it were a puppet. It felt almost instinctive, as if she’d known all along, and had just now remembered it. “Uh, I thought you wanted to help.”

“Are you ready?”

“Sure. Can’t you tell?”

“Never mind. Go to the Convention.”

“Convention?”

“Yes, the Convention. And don’t repeat my words like a silly parrot,” Lilith growled. “Go to the Fay Convention. It starts in two days at Lamia Center.”

“Okay. Ignoring the fact that I want desperately to ask why ghosts, ghouls and other paranormal creatures need to wear funny hats and swing from chandeliers — or do they attend seminars on ‘How to be a Better Beast’ — how is that information going to help maintain the Compact?”

“Can you never learn to turn off the smart-alecky kibitzing and cynical quasi-jokes that were already tedious in ancient Mesopotamia? Figure it out! Learn to think for yourself! Go, before I’m bored enough to whip you into a better mood. I’ve told you what you need to know.” With that, she was gone, only to reappear by the bar, right between the two men she’d previously chased away. They both smiled like sidewalk drunks who'd just found a full pint of whiskey in the pocket of their overcoat.

Copyright © 1998, 2002, 2005, 2007, 2009 by Jeffrey M. Mahr

Copyright © 2011 by Levanah