A Twist of Demon: Cocktails in Hell by S.E. Babin

Author:S.E. Babin [Babin, S.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

The Fallen never made it back that night. Sue was still out terrorizing him which made it a personal best for that potion. I always felt the moment when she fizzled out and popped back into the ether, but it still hand’t come. I couldn’t help it. I cackled the rest of the way.

The morning dawned bright and cheery, perfect for defensive potion making. Balancing my coffee in one hand, I tugged the rope to lower the attic stairs. Climbing into my potion room always freaked me out. The stairs squeaked and swayed, and the only safety net was the carpeted floor below. Grimacing, I carefully tested the first step before slowly making my way inside. When I bought the house, there was no way to pull the stairs back up–something I remedied right away. Setting my mug on the stainless table, I bent down and tugged the metal arms on either side, forcing the staircase to fold in on itself, allowing me to pull it back up and seal me inside. Interrupting an Apothecarist in the middle of work was akin to jarring an EOD guy while they were disarming a bomb. Dangerous at best, catastrophic at worst.

On this morning’s agenda I had a few things. A new Sue potion came first. She’d lasted years for me. I only broke her out when I faced an enemy I didn’t think I could beat, and the old girl had yet to disappoint. The wonderful thing about her was she targeted my enemy, whoever I focused on when I touched her bottle. No collateral damage, plus no one else could see her. Magic was cool that way.

I also needed to call my dad. He’d know what to do. Max’s sudden presence at the bar and his insistence I speak to him both rankled and terrified me. There were other magicians out there, and at least a few other Brewers I knew of. Why had he fixated on me?

After that, I needed to replenish some of my other potions and work on renaming some of the bar drinks, maybe even add a few more to the mix.

Once I made sure the attic door was locked behind me, I dusted off the scrying mirror Az gave me years ago. It was an oval shaped plate made of pure obsidian and gleamed in the low light. Carefully setting it on the table, I snapped my fingers and the rest of the lamps turned to full brightness. After I set the mirror on its stand, I sank into the old green armchair I loved so much and curled my bare feet under me. Two candles on either side of the chair came to life with a whoosh and a phantom wind stirred my hair. Steadying my breathing, my eyes fluttered shut, and I waited until my mind cleared.

“Azrael,” I said quietly, waiting for a few breaths before I formed a picture of him inside of my mind. Ebony colored hair, vivid blue eyes, tall and lean.

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