“Westlyn’s biological mother,” Jude says. “Died in childbirth.”
“Yes, that’s in the records.” I scroll to another page. “Madison had no living family. Brian’s parents both died in a boating accident about a year after he and Madison got married. He had one brother, but he died in the South Tower on 9/11—that was about two years after Westlyn was born.”
“When does the wicked stepmother come into the mix?” Jude asks.
“Eloise Avery,” I reply, “formerly DeFoe. Born in Virginia. Family moved around a lot but eventually settled in New York, where she later attended nursing school. Both parents died of natural causes several years ago. No siblings. Nothing particularly noteworthy about her in my search so far. I’m not sure how she and Brian met, but they were only married about three years ago.”
“So aside from the personal tragedies and the gambling debt,” Jude says, “Brian doesn’t seem all that remarkable.”
“Not that I’ve found so far, no.”
Jude takes a deep drag, filling the air with the sharp tang of witchweed. “So the dark fae blood is further back in the family tree.”
“It would seem so.”
“Did you find anything about the Forsythes?” Drae asks.
“Information on them has been a bit harder to come by. I’ll need to do some more digging.”
“Hunter was supposedly adopted,” Auggie says. “I’m not sure if it’s relevant, but according to a close family friend I met at the wedding, he’s not a Forsythe by blood. Apparently, Lennon didn’t want anyone to know about it.”
“Think it’s related to the demon possession?” Jude asks.
“It’s very possible,” I say, “which then begs the question, how long ago did the demon Zorakkov take ownership of Hunter’s body?”
“And was Hunter a willing party?” Drae hands me back the tablet. “We’ve been studying demon lore for centuries. Why haven’t we come across Zorakkov before?”
“He’sold, Drae. Much older than most demons. According to the seminary texts I found, he’s one of the four original ruling princes of Hell. They say he hasn’t left the realm for several millennia, content to rule his little corner of darkness and despair for all eternity. Keep in mind the source, though—these are mortal musings about a creature most mortal theologians believe is a myth.Weknow the demon exists, but I’ll need to find primary occult sources to get any decent intel on him.”
“What do you suppose he wants with our little witchling?” Auggie asks. “From what she told Jude, it sounds like the most she could offer is a power boost for a few quick spells before she flames out.”
“Watch it,” Jude warns.
Auggie rolls his eyes. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
“Most demons want power that gives them access to the earthly realm,” I say, “either for a set period to accomplish a task, or for a longer stint, which usually requires hopping bodies, because mortals have limited lifespans. But if he’s already got a body—a relatively young one—”
“Hunter Forsythe is forty-two,” Jude says.
“Exactly. He’s got half his life ahead of him still, maybe more.”
Jude flicks his butt into the fire, sending up a line of sparks. “He’s too bloody old for Westlyn.”
“But not for Zorakkov.” I set the tablet on the bar and pour myself a finger of brandy. “Like I said, early days, boys. I need more time. Right now, we’re dealing with a magicless witch with dark fae blood somewhere in her line, an ancient demon prince of Hell, a society of shadow mages who’ve managed to amass a great deal of power in this city while staying mostly off the radar—mages who might’ve sacrificed an adopted child to demonic possession…” I down the drink, letting the alcohol calm my runaway thoughts. “Right now, I can’t give you any solid answers on what it all means.”
“What it means,” Drae says, “is we’ve got two powerful entities on the hunt for our runaway bride—the demon prince and the shadow magic society. And we’re also dealing with a social-climbing stepmother and a degenerate father who are doubtlessly pissing themselves over what their daughter’s flight likely means for them.”
“Fuck them,” Jude says.
“If I thought it would help keep her safe,” Drae says, “I would do just that. Unfortunately, I think we need a better plan.”
“I realize the girl is our main priority,” I say tentatively, keeping the couch between me and Jude in case my next comment sets him off. “But what are the chances the Cerridwen Codex is still in play?”
Jude tenses, but doesn’t make a move to bite off my head.
I try not to sigh in relief.
“All part of that better plan I’m thinking about.” Drae glances at me, and I can almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “Just as the witches and demons of old, perhaps we and the girl might come to a mutually agreeable arrangement.”
