The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) 📕

I was very limited with what I could demonstrate, not only for time’s sake but that my powers remained in a slow state of recharge. I reached into a pocket and pulled out a bag of clematis buds.

“The creatures we’ve been talking about were summoned from a place humans should never attempt to access.” I crushed the bag and emptied its contents into the casting circle. “An evil place.” I spread the fragrant buds around with the tip of my cane. “Rest assured, I won’t be summoning from there, but this will at least give you an idea of how it’s done.”

Detective Vega crossed her arms and cocked a hip.

I returned the crumpled bag to my pocket and stood back. I appraised the circle, which would need to do two jobs tonight. Deciding it looked up to the task, I pushed enough energy into the circle to close it. I trained the cane on the crushed buds next, focusing until they rustled, as though a light breeze had passed over them. With the strong scent of vanilla drifting up, I began to chant the name of something that inhabited a plane very close to our own.

“Susurle,” I repeated.

“Can’t believe I’m standing here watching this,” Vega muttered after a minute.

In the next moment, her breath caught. A twist of light, and there it was: a small creature with a magnificent butterfly’s body but intelligent blinking eyes. It fluttered around the casting column with thin orchid-colored wings before descending to the buds and picking over them.

“How in the hell did you do that?” Vega whispered, arms fallen to her sides.

“That’s what a summoning looks like,” I said, unable to suppress the triumph I felt.

“And it’s not an illusion? That thing is real?”

“For our purposes, yes.” I waited another minute. “Seen enough?” I didn’t want to rush her, but I couldn’t afford to expend any more of my power than necessary—especially since I still had her to protect.

Vega stared for another moment, then straightened and nodded.

I called back the energy from the buds and spoke another incantation, this time banishing the creature. With no particular designs on our world, it dissipated without a fuss. Its orchid wings glimmered out last.

“And the demonic entity talked to the victims through their mirrors?” Vega asked, still studying the spot where the delicate creature had been. She affected a hardened, professional tone, even as I sensed her mind trying to shift blocks around to accommodate this new reality. I had to hand it to her, though. She had taken it better than most people would have.

“Yes,” I replied. “He would have used what’s called a scrying mirror.”

She repeated the word quietly. “And he had the evil creatures summoned to escape the church?”

“No, he killed the rector for that. He plans to do the same to the vicar and bishop when the moon reaches its zenith in…” My heart sped up when I checked my watch. “In less than an hour. The shriekers are to help him once he’s free. The phalanx of his demon legion. He’ll summon more beings, I’m sure, once he’s no longer confined by the power of the church.”

“Assuming this is all true, how do you deal with a spirit like that?” She gave a small snort. “Ghostbusters?”

“The only person you’re gonna call is whoever’s in charge of the search at the cathedral. I need you to suspend it, terminate it—whatever. Just get everyone the hell out of there.”

“Call it off? You’re asking a lot, Croft.”

“They’re not going to find anything,” I said. “And if they do, they’ll be massacred.”

“So who’s—?”

“Me,” I said, anticipating the rest of her question. “Alone.”

She shook her head, loose hair flipping over her shoulders. “Forget it, Croft. I’ve already given you the benefit of the doubt tonight. No way am I letting you go to a major crime scene unescorted. And with the perp and hostages on the premises? Unh-uh. I’m going with you.”

No, you’re not, I thought, but I do need your authority.

“Fine, first call off the search.”

She frowned at my order even as she fished a smartphone from a back pocket. “If I find out you’re playing me for a fool,” she said, her collapsing brows promising more violence than her voice, which was promising plenty, “I’m taking you down, Croft. Hard.”

“They’ll be no need,” I assured her.

She relented, scrolled for the number, and tapped it. I backed away so her phone wouldn’t go funny, and listened to her tell whomever was in charge at St. Martin’s to order everyone out of the cathedral. She was bringing in a “specialist,” she explained. A definite upgrade from “probationer,” I thought—as short lived as that upgrade was going to be.

She hung up and disappeared into her bedroom. “What’s your plan?” she asked from beyond the closed door. I heard metal hangers screech and clothes landing on a bedspread.

“It depends on what kind of entity I’m dealing with,” I called back. That was the one thing I hadn’t been able to determine, and yeah, it mattered. Certain demons were susceptible to religious artifacts and scripture, which I was sort of counting on. There would be plenty of both at the church.

“So that message on the rector’s back,” Vega said. “ ‘Black Earth.’ You weren’t lying about not being able to connect it to anything?”

I thought about the fanatical cult in Central Park and started to open my mouth to reiterate what I’d said earlier—no connection—then stopped. An ice floe slid into my stomach. What if the message hadn’t been meant as a threat or a red herring, but as a warning?

“Christ,” I whispered.

“Croft?” she called when I didn’t answer.

“You interviewed everyone at St. Martin’s, right?”

“Yeah.” I could hear her questioning frown.

“All of them over at Police Plaza?”

“Yeah—” She stopped. “Well, all except one. Gave some weak excuse, but then got frantic when we pressed the issue. We ended up doing his interview at the cathedral,