Monday, July 5, 2010

Lance DeMoi and the Coven Covenant

Lance leaned over Allison's shoulder.
"According to the Wicce Compendium, it's a witch symbol.  It looks like an upside down triangle with an X across it?  I think it is a symbol for war."  Napoleon said over the headset.  Lance swiped a bit of the nearest edges, he tasted it.  He spat.
"Tastes like lead, newt's eye, and nightshade."
"That's definitely a witch formula.  And, Lance, there are other ways to test the components of strange liquids." said Alison.
A Los Angeles detective, Clark, edged over.
"And what, uh, what department are you guys from again?"  he looked first at Lance then at the symbol on the brick wall.
"Night Shift."  Lance flashed the officer his badge, "Paranormal Investigator Lance DeMoi at your service.  And this is my partner, Alison King."  they shook hands.  The detective stared uneasily at Lance's right eye, which was green and glowed gently.
"May we see the victim, Detective?"  Allison asked.  He nodded and lead them to the ambulance.  Lance and Allison folded back the white covering; the dead actress was beautiful during her life.
"It appears she drowned in her pool.  Going for a nightly swim I suppose.  Also, she wasn't on any drugs or stimulants, nothing major anyway, I don'-"  The detective was saying, Lance cut him off.
"It was either a spell or a rare black magic poison.  We're dealing with a witch orchastrated murder here, Officer.  The question, Detective, is why?"
Clark pushed his glasses up his nose.
"A spell?  Really?  Chief wasn't lying: you guys are wierd."
"Was the victim, the actress, involved in anything unusual; I mean was she part of any odd or shady or mysterious clubs?"  asked Allison, ignoring Clark's previous statement, as they walked into the house.  The inspector thought for a moment.
"Not necessarily.  Kimberly was involved in a large variety of clubs and organizations.  Nothing unusual though... I think."
Lance and Allison surveyed the pool where the body was found.
"Mind if we look about?"  Lance asked.  The detective glanced over to his superior, who nodded his consent.
"Yes, you may."  the three of them walked through the actress's mansion: past large, richly decorated lounges; an enormous kitchen, in which Kimberly's caretakers were being questioned by police; and other such gilded rooms.  Lance scanned the walls, floor and ceiling with his magic eye for any hidden doors or rooms.  He stopped outside her bedroom.
"In there.  There's a hidden trap door, it leads down into a basement."  they entered, passed the investigators searching the room and tried open the little door.  It was tightly sealed.  Lance brought his heel smashing down on the wood planks; the splinters of the door fell down the shaft, he leapt down onto the ladder.  Alison and Clark followed.  The ladder led them down into a crawl space, separated from the rest of the mansion by thick, concrete walls.  Lance and Alison looked around the room: it was filled with, large, leather bound books, cauldrons, voodoo dolls and bone implements.
"Looks like little Miss Pretty was a bride of Satan."  Lance said, his right eye scanning the chests and drawers.
Alison threw an arm in front of Clark and Lance.  "Wait.  I sense a being of dark magic hiding nearby."
Clark whispered, "How?"
Alison shrugged.
Alison then motioned Lance toward a small door in the wall, they both drew guns loaded with silver bullets.  Lance kicked open the little door, gun at the ready.  A black shape flew out of the compartment beyond, but both Alison and Lance fired.  The cat familiar flew against the wall as the force of the bullets hit it; Lance stooped over and picked the wounded animal off the ground.
"Name."  Lance demanded of the familiar.  The large black cat quivered, Lance shook it violently.
"Tarthenus!"  the daemon whined.
"That's better.  So the famed actress Kimberly was witch.  Why?"
Tarthenus whimpered.
"She, my mistress, joined a club, the Green Star Nightclub.  After proving her devotion, my mistress was allowed into the inner circles of the Green Stars. There, in a ritual, she was vested with eldritch powers from the Mistress.  But my lady grew afraid of the Club, so she was going to talk to the authorities.  Now the Mistress couldn't allow that, so she had my mistress killed."
Lance nodded, "Good.  Now where is the location of the Green Star Club?"
The daemon whimpered again.
"They're gone now; it's almost the Winter Solstice, they're going to the Witchmeet."
"Where is the Witchmeet?"  Alison asked.  The Night Shift had been searching for the site of the Witchmeet for years.
"Where the Wizendmeet is."  the daemon managed a small sneer.  Lance smashed it upside the head with his gun.
"And where's the Wizendmeet?"
"Ireland!  It's at Ireland!  But first they'll be going to Salem"  Tarthenus gasped.
"Thank you."  Lance said politely.  He threw the daemon against the opposite wall and shot it.
"All right then.  Alison, call Ransom, we're going to Salem."  Lance told Alison as he holstered his gun and walked toward the ladder.                

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