CHAPTER 13
Al stood in front of his counter, admiring a vaguely feminine figure made out of clay, with a strip of purple cloth tied around its waist and Rachel's stray hairs attached to its head. His red goat-slotted eyes gleamed.
"It worked perfectly."
Pierce peered over his shoulder. "What is it? Is my foolish master practicing voodoo now?"
Al grabbed the witch's hair and slammed his face into the counter, busting his lip and nearly breaking his nose. "I'll have that insolent tongue of yours one of these days." The demon put a hand on his creation. "This is an effigy. The curses I sculpted into it allow me to tap into the aura of the person it represents; namely Rachel Mariana Morgan. When I am channeling a line through it, I can experience everything my little itchy witch does…" He paused, thinking about what she and Ivy had been doing the night before. "…and with this fragment of Newt's old robe, I can be assured she remains oblivious to my activities."
"You are truly a foul, heartless creature."
Al chuckled. "Just wait. You haven't seen anything yet."