Within These Wicked Walls(12)

The evil didn’t respond to the metal itself, but as I welded away at it, shaping it into the very thing that particular Manifestation despised, the cracks began to voice their protest as rumbles in the forming amulet.

I paused every so often, just to relax my eyes from the magnification and flex my fingers.

Almost there. Just a few more adjustments—

“Andromeda!”

Magnus knew I was working. He had hired me to do just that. Whatever he needed would have to wait.

The amulet was so close to completion it pulsed in my hand, and I had to grip harder to keep it still.

“ANDROMEDA!”

My hand slipped, singeing a black line I hadn’t meant to be there. I rubbed the line with my thumb, but it was deep enough to stay put.

I’d have to start over now. A brand-new disk. Another hour of work.

I dropped my spoiled work and climbed the stairs.

I found Magnus in his room glaring at a sport coat laid out on his bed. He turned to me, the bells on his wrists tinkling as he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling for an hour.”

I paused, weighing the pros and cons of correcting him on the time difference of an hour versus minutes, but it didn’t seem worth it. “Exorcising your house, sir.”

“Magnus,” he corrected. “I need your help.”

“What can I do for you?”

He picked up the jacket, a black wool with silver-threaded paisley on the sleeves. “What do you think of this?”

I pursed my lips. “You called me away from my work for a jacket?”

Magnus looked at me as if I’d spoken nonsense. “This is just as important.”

“You ruined an hour’s worth of work—”

“How did I ruin anything when I’ve been in my room the whole time, minding my own business? Just answer the question and I’ll let you get back to your beloved amulets.”

I took a deep breath, though it didn’t stop a vein in my temple from twitching. “It’s nice.”

“Yes, but for me?”

“I … don’t know much about men’s fashion. What is it for?”

“It was a gift from Kelela.”

“Kelela?”

“Esjay’s sister.”

“Oh.”

“They’re coming over for dinner tonight, and she’ll probably expect me to wear it.” He paused to study the jacket, holding it at arm’s length. “I don’t know. Do you like it? I don’t know if I like the color. It’s so … black.”

“Everyone in the house wears dark colors.”

“Do they? And it’s supposed to be slimming, but for some reason it makes me look sickly.” He held it against himself and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

“I think you should wear it, even if it’s only tonight. She cared enough to have it made for you. Let her see you in it.”

He looked at it mournfully, as if he’d rather do anything else than wear it. “Of course. You’re right.”

“I’m going to get back to work now,” I said, leaning toward the freedom of the hallway.

“You will be there tonight,” he said, hanging the jacket up. The lack of a question in his voice made me tighten my lips. “What are you going to wear?”

“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. I have hours before dinner to decide.”

“I can help you choose. It’s only fair, since you helped me.”

Yes, I helped. Unwillingly. “No. I’d prefer to get back to work.”

“Peggy said you didn’t come with much— Wait.” He threw open both doors of his closet, grinning wildly. “Pick something from here. And then Saba can alter it for you. She’s really amazingly fast with a sewing machine.”

I gritted my teeth at the mention of that spiteful woman. She had no right to discuss what I did or did not have. “Did you hear what I said, sir? I said no. Don’t you know what ‘no’ means?”

He blinked at me. “Magnus,” he corrected quietly.

I wanted to strangle him with the very jacket he hated. “I have to get back to work.”

He rushed after me, stopping short in the doorway, as if there were an invisible line keeping him in. Good. I might’ve hit him, otherwise. “I’m very bad at this.”

“This?”

“Talking to people. Having … friends.”

“You hired me to exorcise your house. Save yourself the effort,” I said, and stormed down the hall.

I returned to the stairs, and with the added agitation, finished the amulet in forty-five minutes. It might’ve been a new record, though my eyes and hands didn’t thank me for it.

The cracks on the stairs had left without much of a fight. I hammered two nails into the wooden railing, hung the amulet, and stepped back to look at my work. One amulet down … God only knew how many left to go.

I could’ve cleansed another Manifestation but instead I spent a little time constructing an amulet to counteract the cold in my bedroom. By the time I was done it was a comfortable enough temperature to bathe and change for dinner.

There was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” I asked.

No answer.