The rugaru's ring still in his hand, Crowley appeared near the back of the Order's chapel. He strode forward, expecting to see the O.B.T. members already gathered and waiting to conduct their locating spell.
The chapel was empty.
Crowley frowned and pulled out his iPhone to check the time. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Terrence Marsh had suggested the spell, so at least a few of the witches should have arrived. He put his phone and the ring in his pocket and glanced around. The chapel looked exactly as it had the last time he was there, and he could not hear anything unusual, either. Still, he knew instinctively that something was amiss. Instead of waiting to see who or what would show up, Crowley decided to drop by Irene Spare's house, since he did not know where any of the other O.B.T. members lived.
Crowley reappeared just inside Irene's front door, but slightly away from the doormat in case she had a devil's trap there. The house was quiet and there were no signs of anything being wrong. He noticed some light and a bit of noise from what he assumed was the living room, so Crowley headed down a hallway in that direction. "Irene," he called, approaching the room carefully, still on high alert. He rounded the corner to see an ordinary living room and Irene standing in front of a brick fireplace.
"Hello, Crowley," she said as she turned around. Her long blond hair was pulled back, eyes entirely hidden by the fire reflecting off her glasses. "I thought I sensed you here."
"How very creepy of you." Crowley noticed she was holding a small black box. It seemed of no significance, but for some reason it unnerved him. "Tell me, why aren't you at the chapel? I believe we had an appointment."
"Oh, we do." Smiling, Irene threw the black box into the fireplace. Instantly the flames themselves turned black. Crowley felt a sudden wave of searing pain and before he could move columns of dark fire shot up around him like bars. He blinked, expecting to teleport, but found to his surprise that he was trapped.
"You really need to work on your manners," Crowley smiled, but his mind was working rapidly. He was not sure what exactly had happened.
"And you need to brush up on your goetic magic," Irene snapped. "Have you forgotten the black box curse from such works as the Lemegeton? Well, it isn't recorded in its entirety in any common grimoire, but my knowledge doesn't come only from books. Your seal is inside the box, along with various herbs and such like asafoetida and aglaophotis. While it remains in the fire, you are under my authority."
Crowley cleared his throat as the initial pain faded. He did vaguely remember the ritual, but it was so rarely used in comparison to traps, exorcisms, and holy water it had never been a major concern. He himself had not faced it before. "Your authority, hmm?"
"Yes," Irene smiled. "And don't bother trying to escape or summon any help. None of your powers will work outside of that little bubble you're trapped in. You're not going anywhere until I release you."
"Lovely." He paused for a moment, trying to call his hound, or move something in the room, or anything, but nothing worked. "Now, would you mind explaining what exactly it is you want, so we can get this over with?"
"You're a usurper, Crowley. An upstart who betrayed your lord to seize power for yourself. I'm turning you over to people who serve the true king of Hell."
Crowley felt as if a cold hand was tightening around his throat. "Is that so?"
"The demons I've worked with throughout my career as an occultist are loyal to Lucifer, just as I am. That's why I'd heard of you, although I had no idea I'd run into you someday." Her eyes narrowed. "They're going to kill you, and then they're going to set our lord free."
"Just like that, eh? It's really not so simple, you know. Your lord is locked up pretty tight. It will take more than a ragtag bunch of loyalists to get him out."
"It doesn't matter. Lucifer will get out one way or another, and soon. He is prince of the powers of the air and the true god of this world. He's meant to fight Heaven and take dominion over the earth, and it will happen."
"Lot of good that'll do you," said Crowley. "Lucifer isn't god of anything. He's a petulant child throwing a tantrum because daddy didn't let him have his way. But unlike a child, his tantrums have body counts in the millions. That includes you, love. He'll destroy every human being and demon in existence if he can. Do you really think he'll care if you have some tiny part in breaking him out a second time?"
"I don't care what happens to me," Irene shrugged, walking over to a side table. "I'm prepared to sacrifice whatever I need to for him. Besides, you're wrong about Lucifer. He is the Morning Star, the wisest and most glorious of all beings. It will take fire and destruction, yes, but he will remake the world."
Crowley shook his head, remembering the rugaru's words. "What is with people and this "remake the world" nonsense? I'd rather make do in the world we have than chance someone else's idea of paradise."
"That's because you're a parasite with no faith and no higher goals than self-advancement," Irene snapped. She drew a sigil in chalk on the side table, then took candles and a bowl from its drawer and arranged them on top. "I'd try to sway you back to Lucifer's side, but there's no point since he would destroy you either way for what you've done. It is a pity, since you're very talented, but you certainly deserve it."
"Oh, how kind of you." Crowley tried moving the box out of the fire through telekinesis, but it was no use. He decided his best option was escaping as soon as the demons Irene summoned showed up, when she would have to let him out so they could take him. Of course, he would snap Irene's neck first. "So, I take it you did something to your coven mates?"
"Not really," she replied, emptying a jar of blood into the bowl in front of her. "I put a warding spell on the chapel to keep them away. I knew when you showed up and no one was there you'd eventually come here." She shook her head. "They're decent witches, but it's too bad none of them follow Lucifer the way I do. I've always been the deepest and strongest among them. But I wouldn't worry about them. Your ride will be here any—"
Suddenly Irene turned, as if she had heard a noise. Crowley looked where she had to see Irene's sister Kate, the woman responsible for summoning him in the first place, walk through the door.
"A family reunion," Crowley grumbled. "How charming."
"What the hell are you doing to him?" Kate demanded, gesturing to Crowley.
"Kate." Irene smiled, but there was no kindness in her eyes. "How nice of you to drop in unannounced. You have always been a nuisance like that—although I guess I should thank you, since if you hadn't stolen my book Crowley wouldn't be here."
"He came willingly," said Kate.
"I know, and what a surprise that was! I didn't bother evoking him because I knew he'd have wards against it. I never guessed he'd actually come of his own volition. I thought he was smarter than that."
Crowley cleared his throat. "I wouldn't start making judgments about intelligence if I were you, Irene."
"Well, you're the one in a cage," she snapped. "Anyway, sis, this really isn't a good time. I'm expecting guests in a few minutes."
"Guests? What, your demon buddies?" Kate shook her head. "You know they're not your friends, right? They're using you because you serve the same master, but that's it. You're not their equal. Even I know how to deal with demons better than you do."
"Oh really? How's that?"
"By dealing with them. Mutually beneficial business transactions. Not acting like they're working with you because of what a great and special witch you are."
Crowley frowned, studying Kate. The woman was more clever than he had thought upon meeting her initially. Her talk about deals suggested that she had looked into them—perhaps she had deliberately chosen him out of the various demons in the Lemegeton, since Irene's copy still listed him as a crossroads demon.
Irene smiled. "As I told Crowley here, I am quite content being Lucifer's tool. I'm happy with any role I can play in giving him back his throne."
"I'm not going to let you do that." Kate raised a gloved hand to reveal she was holding a gun, which startled both her sister and Crowley.
Irene masked her surprise with a laugh. "I know we have a rough relationship, sis, but you cannot be serious."
"I am serious," said Kate, her blue eyes cold. "Maybe you missed it, but things were pretty bad the last time the apocalypse happened, and Lucifer didn't even win. I get that you're not the white-light-and-unicorns type. Neither am I. But unleashing the Devil on earth—especially after seeing what that resulted in the last time—is just too much."
"You're pathetic." Irene frowned and waved her hand. The gun jerked toward the right, but stayed firmly in Kate's hand. Irene's eyes widened.
Kate trained the gun back on her sister. "I've been practicing my magic a lot. I'm still not as strong as I could be, but I will be soon."
Irene snarled and swung her arm at her sister, sending out a shockwave that flung Kate back against the wall. Irene started forward but Kate fired her gun, hitting Irene in the stomach. Irene fell back, knocking over her side table, the blood in the bowl atop it splashing violently onto the wall. She coughed, blood on her lips, blood from the large wound in her abdomen seeping outward into her pale shirt. Kate walked forward, tears streaming down her face. She pressed the gun barrel against Irene's forehead. "I'm sorry," she said, and pulled the trigger.
Crowley waited for a few moments as Kate tossed the gun beside her sister's body and stood there in silence. He had been somewhat suspicious of Irene, but had never expected anything quite like that to happen.
Finally, Kate turned to him and said, "So…I want to make a deal."
"I suspected as much. I assume that's why you called me in the first place. What was the plan before? Seal your contract with me in front of all your fellow spell-of-the-month club members?"
"Well, no. I wanted to see what you were like first, before I decided to deal with you specifically. I realize now that's not the way I should have done things."
"Hmph." Crowley glanced at the box in the fireplace. "Fine. But first, would you mind letting me out of here?"
"That's the thing." She hesitated nervously. "I was planning to give you my soul, but right now you're at a disadvantage. How about instead I let you out in exchange for you giving me what I want?"
Crowley's eyes narrowed. "Katie darling, first of all, I haven't been stuck here nearly long enough to be that desperate. Second, part of the power to fulfill a contract comes from the soul. If I did whatever it is you want without getting a soul in exchange, I'd actually be losing something even if you let me out, and that is not going to happen. Understood?"
"Okay," Kate shrugged. "It was a long shot. I don't think it's unreasonable to ask for an extra long contract, though, considering you'll be getting my soul plus freedom from this trap…thing."
"How long are we talking here?"
"Maybe twenty years?"
Crowley stifled a laugh. "Let me see, ah…no."
"But what difference does it make? You'll still have my soul."
"Look," said Crowley, rolling his eyes, "I admire your opportunism. Truly. I'll give you as many years as is reasonable. But I'm not talking specific terms with you until I know what you want and you get me out of this sodding trap."
"All right, fine. But don't you disappear yet." Kate picked up a poker and dragged the box out of the fire. Immediately the dark flames surrounding Crowley vanished, and he felt the choking pressure around his throat disappear. He breathed out and moved a few steps, just to be certain he could.
"I'll take that," he said as he snatched the box from the hearth. The magic that had emanated from it before had faded, presumably due to Irene's death. He yanked it open, dumped the contents into the fire, then tossed the box onto a sofa.
"But wait, won't that hurt you?" Kate frowned suddenly. "Your seal was in there."
"If burning a demon's sigil could kill them we'd all be dead, what with all the book-burnings you people seem to love so much." Crowley brushed off his coat. "Now, business."
"Right." She pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear, slightly more anxious now that Crowley was standing right in front of her. "I would like to be a powerful witch. Stronger than…she ever was. I've worked hard at it but I just don't have the knack. Plus the world needs protecting and I think with power like that I could do a better job of it."
"A powerful witch, hmm? Not very original, but doable. Is that all?"
"Well…I don't want to get in trouble for this." Kate gestured to her sister's body.
"Fine, witch powers with a side helping of law evasion. Those aren't small thing to ask for, you know."
Kate sighed. "Maybe fifteen years, then? I mean, I fully expect to go to Hell when I die, even without this deal, but I'd rather have it be later than sooner."
Crowley smiled faintly. "With the way things are going I'm afraid none of us will have that luxury. But fine, whatever, fifteen years it is. It's generous, but I'm in a good mood. Besides, if you die before then you're still mine anyway."
"Okay." She hesitated. "So…I have to seal it with a kiss, right?"
"Naturally. Is that going to be a problem or—" Before Crowley could finish, Kate leaned in and kissed him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck. It was more forceful than he had expected, and even after he felt the distinct surge of power that meant her contract was fulfilled she still lingered for a moment.
Kate took a step back, blushing. "Sorry, that…I'm a little awkward."
Crowley laughed. "Trust me, it wasn't the worst I've had—and you're not even my type." He straightened his tie. "Well, I imagine several rather confused O.B.T. members are hanging about the chapel by now, and I've got a ritual that needs doing. How would you like to take your new powers for a spin?"