Play with Fire

chapter Thirty-Seven

“SO THIS OCCULT burglar type–” Peters began.

“Sutorius,” Ashley said.

“Right, Sutorius. He admitted, under duress, that he’d stolen the Corpus Hermeticum for some book dealer in Boston.”

“Cambridge. Yes, and he spoke truthfully. I’d have known if he lied.”

“So, I guess we need to talk to Morris and Chastain.”

“Indeed. But knowledge is power – before I get in touch with the delectable Libby, let’s find out what we can about these church burnings. I saw a story about one on the news, but apart from giving a brief cheer for the arsonist, I didn’t pay it a lot of attention. We don’t even know how many have been burned so far.”

“That should be easy enough to find out,” Peters said. He turned toward the computer but then looked back. “Ashley.”

“Forget it. I’m horny, too – but we just haven’t got time right now.”

“That’s not what I was about to ask. When you mentioned cheering one of the church burnings, it kind of reminded me which side you’re really on. What does it matter to you whether somebody opens the Gates of Tartarus? I mean, if they succeed, I suppose you could look at what happened next as one big family reunion.”

She sat back and looked at him, her normally mobile face hard to read.

“Peters, you’ve been in Hell – not nearly as long as I have, but you’ve spent time there. Which do you prefer: there, or here?”

“Here, of course. But then, I’m human. This side of the Great Divide is where I belong. It’s home. And here, nobody tortures me – apart from those times when you get a little frisky with the riding crop.”

“You’re right about one thing: Hell is my home – or, at least it had been for so long that human time can’t even measure it. But that doesn’t mean I enjoyed being there. It’s supposed to be a place of punishment, remember? And it is, believe me.”

“All right, I didn’t mean–”

“I like it here, Peters. I like being able to see a sky that isn’t burning. I like the change of seasons. I like being the most powerful creature in my immediate environment. I like the sex. Sometimes, I even like you. I have no interest whatsoever in returning to Hell, nor do I wish Hell to join me here. Is that answer enough?”

Peters nodded slowly. “Absolutely. Now let’s see about those church burnings.”

Half an hour later, they had compiled a list containing the pertinent information.

Feb. 2 – Duluth, MN. Catholic Church burned, with a priest inside. The body not completely consumed. Rumors about occult elements surrounding the priest’s death, but authorities aren’t talking.

Feb. 12 – ten day interval. Synagogue, Albuquerque, NM. Rabbi’s body found inside, too badly burned to tell if he was ritually murdered.

Feb. 22 – ten day interval. Baptist Church in Decatur, AL. Pastor’s body found inside, again too badly burned to learn anything about mode of death.

Mar. 4 – ten day interval. Mormon Church in Sheridan, WY. Church’s Bishop found inside, burned beyond recognition.

In each instance, at least one report described the fire as “very hot” or “very fast,” suggesting the use of incendiaries.

“Sheridan was last night,” Peters said, “which gives us nine days before the next one. Or is he done already?

“I doubt it,” Ashley said. “Four isn’t a number of power in black magic. But five is – definitely. That’s why the pentagram, a five-pointed star, is used so often in spells and incantations.”

“So the next one is the charm, so to speak.”

“Probably – unless he’s going for a multiple of five, like ten, fifteen, twenty, or whatever. That would add more power to the spell, but the stuff he’s been doing provides immense power, already.”

“And besides,” Peters said, “his luck is bound to run out, sooner or later. A cruising police car is going to drive by the church just as he’s coming out, or something else is going to get f*cked up. It’s only a matter of time.”

“All of which strengthens the conclusion that the next burning will complete the ritual.”

“So, what are we gonna do to stop it?”

Ashley reached for her phone. “I think,” she said, “it’s time to call in a favor.”