Free Mark of the Witch by MAGGIE SHAYNE

Guardian begins to age, he chooses and trains
his replacement. That tradition has continued since the time of ancient
Babylon.”
    “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I said, holding up a hand to
stop him. “Even I know ancient Babylon is BC, as in Before Christ.”
    “Fifteen hundred and one BC, to be precise.”
    “Pre-Christian, either way. Can’t have a Gnostic sect, no
matter how rare, prior to Christianity, can you?”
    He smiled widely, nodding his head not in agreement but in
approval. “You’re smart. I like that.”
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m freakin’ Einstein. But you didn’t answer my
question. Nice dodge, though.”
    “It was a compliment, not a dodge. And it was sincere.”
    I gave him a thank-you nod and tried not to warm at the praise.
He hadn’t said I was a knockout, driving him mad with carnal lust. He’d said I
was smart. That’s all. Down, girl. I tried to focus on the city as he maneuvered
the relic through it, instead of on the intense awareness that there was only a
foot of space between us. That space, though, wasn’t empty. It was crackling and
snapping.
    “Priests of numerous religions have been entrusted with the
mission. From the Cult of Marduk to the Egyptian followers of Ra to the earliest
Jews. The calling doesn’t end, it just converts. It’s only recently that Dom
realized the way the stars are lining up on Samhain this year makes it a
propitious time for the demon to come through. He probably should have seen it
sooner, but he’s getting a little…unfocused.”
    He means senile, I thought. I nodded as if that made perfect
sense when it actually made none. “You talk about him a lot. Dom.”
    I spotted the crease between his brows when I said that. Worry?
Something. I wanted to smooth it away with my finger, whatever it was.
    “Dom took me in when I was a kid.”
    “Took you in—”
    “I was an orphan.”
    “You were an orphan?” Wait a minute, did my voice just sound
like a cheerleader spotting a puppy?
    “That’s really not on topic at all, though. You were asking why
we need to go to Ithaca.”
    He was changing the subject. And just when I’d decided I was
far more interested in his sad childhood than I was in some moldy old Babylonian
legend. Even if I was somehow intrinsically involved
in its fulfillment.
    “The Portal is somewhere in Ithaca, at least according to Dom’s
calculations. By going there, we can not only prevent the demon from coming
through this time but destroy him utterly.”
    “Huh,” I said.
    “What?” He looked at me, brows raised.
    “Well, it’s just that—” I shrugged. “I mean, just playing
demon’s advocate here, but…the dude’s been in this underworld slammer for three
thousand five hundred years now. It seems a little harsh. A lot harsh when you
add ‘destroy him utterly’ to the equation. What did he do, anyway?”
    Tomas tipped his head to one side. “I don’t know.”
    “You never asked?”
    He shrugged. “It seemed enough that he’s a demon.”
    “Isn’t that what they said about witches during the hysteria? I
mean, can he even help being a demon?”
    “You’re confusing the issue.”
    “I don’t know that I am. Couldn’t he be a good demon? Couldn’t he have been rehabilitated by now? Open your
mind, Padre. Think outside the box.”
    He looked at me as if I’d just sprouted horns and a forked
tail.
    “There’s no such thing as a good demon.”
    “That’s what the witch-hunters said about us. ”
    “What he did isn’t as important as what he will do, given the
chance.”
    “And what’s that? What’s this big bad demon’s dastardly goal?
No, wait, wait, I remember.” I leaned forward, hands on my hips in a superhero
pose. “He wants to take over the world.”
    “I can’t believe you’re making jokes about this, Indira.
Especially given what’s been happening to you.”
    I only shrugged and looked away.
    He pulled into the long line of traffic heading onto the
bridge, and took the opportunity