“I’m told it has something to do with my magnetic field,” Diesel said.
It wasn’t a large room in terms of a public space. It was about the size of the store part of the bakery. Clara flipped the light switch, and we looked around Gramps’s rumpus room. It was a classic man cave, and I suspect as a younger man Gramps had used it for poker games and heavy drinking. The bar was polished oak. The wood floor was scuffed. The green felt on the poker table was faded and stained. Two overstuffed chairs sat in the middle of the room where, I imagined, high-top tables once held illegal drinks.
Diesel looked around and smiled.
“What?” I asked him.
“I like it. I might rent it out next time I’m in town.”
“You could invite Nergal,” I said. “Have a mixer.”
Diesel wrapped an arm around me. “I have a job for you.”
“Oh boy.”
“I’d blindfold you, but I don’t have a blindfold on me, so we’ll save that for later, if you know what I mean.”
“Everyone knows what you mean.”
The smile widened. “I want you to move around the room with your eyes closed. Just feel around and see if anything speaks to you. Usually you have to hold something in your hand to feel the vibration, but you felt the coin fragment behind the brick at the lighthouse, so let’s see if you pick up any vibrations here.”
Diesel guided me around the room. I felt the soft felt of the poker table. I felt the brick in the walls. And I felt a very faint hum as I ran my hand along the oak bar.
“Here,” I said.
I opened my eyes and traced along with my fingertip until I isolated the spot.
“This wood has a lot of grain and it has a dark stain on it, but it looks to me like it’s been plugged where you’re feeling the vibration,” Diesel said.
He drilled into the bar with a corkscrew, popped the plug out, and then used the corkscrew to pry two pieces of coin out of the hole. He dropped the pieces into my hand, and I felt them hum.
“They’re empowered,” I said.
Diesel took the five coin pieces out of his pocket and placed them on the bar top. I added the two new pieces, and they were a perfect fit. All the markings lined up.
“If I had Wulf’s piece of the coin, Charles III would have a whole head,” Diesel said.
He pocketed the seven pieces of empowered coin. We retraced our steps back to the bakery, pushed the shelf across the tunnel entrance, and climbed the stairs.
Diesel used his thumb to swipe a flour smudge off my cheek. “I have some errands to run, and then I’ll meet you at the house.”
“I might be home late,” I said. “I need to put together a menu for Ammon’s party. And I should get a head start on the baking.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Glo locked the shop door at four o’clock, hung the CLOSED sign in the window, and joined Clara and me in the back.
“I’ve been doing research on demons,” Glo said, watching me roll out piecrust for the tarts. “I have a couple excellent anti-demon spells. We don’t want to be caught short without protection.”
“I pretty much don’t believe in demons,” I said.
“I believe in everything,” Glo said. “I’m a free-range believer. I even found some tests we can do on Ammon to prove his demonicness.”
“I can’t see Ammon submitting to demon testing.”
“Exactly, so I found a spell that will make him cooperative. It’s foolproof. I’m going to stop in at the Exotica Shoppe after work and get the ingredients.” Glo looked at the piecrust. “How many tarts do you have to make?”
“Four hundred.”
“Yowza. That’s a lot of tarts.”
“I’ll make four different fillings. Plus I’ll have four large cookie trays, four large trays of miniature cupcakes, and a bananas Foster station.”
“I can’t wait,” Glo said. “I love parties. I promised Broom he could come. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure. He can help sweep up afterward.”
Glo left, and Clara packed up and left a half hour later. I stayed until five. I stored my tart shells, shoved my party menu into my tote bag, cut the lights, and locked up. I had my hand on the door handle of my car when I heard rustling behind me. I turned and saw Hatchet rushing at me. His eyes were crazy wide, his hair stuck out every which way, and his damp tights looked mostly dry but droopy. He had his sword in his hand.
“Bitch wench!” he yelled at me. “How dare thee dunk Hatchet? Thee art a cowardly sow to attack Hatchet from behind. Prepare to have Hatchet smite thee!”