She was setting Sergei up for failure - which, in their world, would ultimately be his death. By not protecting his new business ventures and this take-over, she was opening him for financial ruin and demise, making him weak in the eyes of the Bratva. And while that shouldn’t equate to his death, he would most certainly die because this world seemed to have a low tolerance for such weakness. The way Lauren had left him open for this type of attack meant that, while he wouldn’t die by Dimitri’s hands - or even his instruction - he would die by an alpha that was more powerful than him.
My hands were clammy at the prospect of what I was about to do. Charl was of no use - he merely told me to consult my guides - conduct my own reading to ascertain the best way forward, but then he also sounded high - as if he were buried so deeply within the madness, his threads in this world seemed to be disintegrating entirely.
Zoey was deep in her own client, promising to ‘call me later.’ And after those two dud phone calls, I decided that I would crack this entire thing on my own. Perhaps not the smartest decision, but we couldn’t sit here simply waiting for divine intervention, no matter who my Deity was.
I had contacted Solomon. Just the thought of his presence had me wishing there was time for a hot shower - just to warm up. I didn’t have to wait long, I simply lit a candle of intention, closed my eyes, and mentally glided across the beautiful high that was connection itself, and waited. He found me quicker than I anticipated - almost as if he knew that I would come calling and had simply been waiting in the wings, biding his time.
That was how I found myself entering into a bargain with the Demon Summoner of biblical times - I made a bargain with the King who had found himself trapped in their same world - prone to the same forced answering to each summoning. Imagine the irony - a bit of salt, a bit of blood, and the right incantation, and suddenly you were able to summon Solomon himself, forcing him to do your bidding in the same way that he had forced so many Demons in his lifetime.
That was some poetic justice if you asked me, but I didn’t share those sentiments with Solomon. He wanted me to share his story with the world, and I had agreed in exchange for his servitude. He needed to seek out answers for me - slip into places that I couldn’t - report back on all the hidden intricacies that my Magick was not able to pick up on. The bargain made me uneasy. I should have consulted with Marie - or at the very least, chatted to Max about it, hell - even Brenna would have been better than nothing. But instead, I went in brash and blind, committing to uphold my end of the bargain to the world. All Solomon asked was that I shared his tale for the world to know. It seemed like an easy ask with technology - I mean, I could simply set up a blog and share his story and voilá, the world would know. I supposed when you had been trapped in the cycle of being summoned - do someone’s bidding - and repeat, having people know the truth to your death may have been the reprieve he needed. Dread settled in as I wondered if he wasn’t hoping that some other powerful Magick user would find a way to release him from that sort of existence.
What I was doing was an affront to every source of Light Magick available. It required you to travel deep into the depths of your own darkness, bringing forth every conceivable terrible thought available in the crevices of your own mind. It was the kind of madness Charl dabbled in daily, which made it dangerous, because it wasn’t so much as dipping into those murky waters of self, it was then taking those horrific thoughts - memories - dreams - and nightmares - and molding them into intention of horrific proportions, instilling that into the spell itself. A sour jar - where everything that person touched turned to shit.
I glanced up at Dimitri, who was watching me warily as I flung an array of items onto my bed from my travelling Magick kit.
“Pee in this,” I instructed, pushing the cup into his hand.
I was met with Dimitri’s trademark scowl as he refused to move an inch.
“It’s not for that,” I added quickly, trying to allay his fears.
Urine - specifically human urine, was an ideal base for a sour jar - it was the equivalent to pissing on someone’s life, and who better to lay that foundation than Dimitri himself? He couldn’t shoot Sergei - he couldn’t even retaliate in any form that was his speciality, but I could offer him this small act of revenge.
“I don’t dabble in my own product,” he drawled, and while I absolutely should not care whether Dimitri tested his own drugs or not - or even if he was a full blown addict - I did.
The knot in my chest released slightly and I gave him a tight smile, “It’s for a spell - I need urine for a spell.”
Understanding crinkled the corner of his eyes, “What kind of spell?”
This time, I did not hold back my smile and I beamed up at him as I said, “The kind that allows you to piss all over Sergei and everything that’s dear to him.”
As usual, he grunted some sort of response that was unintelligible and made his way to the bathroom, but I didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth turned up just a little.
On second thought, I wasn’t sure how I felt about being handed a cup of steaming piss from the guy I liked, but I didn’t have time to explore those feelings.
I didn’t have time to decide how I was going to take Dimitri up on his offer - on how I was going to tell him that I wanted him to show me what my romance novels only spoke about - yes, in graphic detail - but I wanted to experience it, not simply read about it. Because I was done lying to myself about whether or not I wanted to take him up on his offer - the more I spent time with him - even when he fucking infutriated me - the more I wanted him to lead me down the path of pleasure.
Shaking myself back into the present, I stood over the bathroom sink and tipped the urine into a large glass mason jar, the underlying smell of coffee was overwhelming. How much coffee did he drink? I thought he was a tea man? Will the coffee in his pee serve as a catalyst in activating the spell faster? What an insane thought - and something to ponder later - when death, destruction, and war didn’t loom upon our doorstep.
“No candles this time?” His voice was warm and low as he took his usual position in the doorway, only this time it didn’t feel as if he were lingering or looming.
It sort of felt like he should be here for this.
Surprisingly, he didn’t shy away from the undeniable grossness of the Sour Jar, and I guess he dealt with far worse in his line of business.
“Not yet,” I flashed him a small smile over my shoulder as I continued to work.
I wasn’t an idiot, I knew that he had been paying keen attention to everything I was doing - everything I had done since arriving here. We stood in silence as I worked, and I focused my mind on the task at hand, tipping some white vinegar into the jar, the mixed liquid now sitting just below the brim. The vinegar worked as if it were a brine of sorts, preserving and lengthening the lifespan of the spell.
“How many ‘business ventures’ do you have?” I asked Dimitri without looking up as I laid out the different items I could pick and choose from for this process.
When he didn’t respond, I glanced back at him and found him clenching his jaw with such force that the strong muscled lines were even more prominent than usual.
“Look,” I huffed in frustration, “I just need to know what businesses of yours that Sergei has or will try and take over.”
Everything with Dimitri seemed like one-step-forward followed up by three-steps-back - I mean every time I thought he had lowered his defenses around me, he somehow snapped back into asshole mode soon after. It was exhausting.
Anger radiated off of him, dark and prominent, and if I hadn’t spent the last few days in his company, I may have been perplexed - frightened even - but I knew that this anger stemmed from Sergei, specifically from his inability to control Sergei. I had to fight my urge to roll my eyes at him.