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Jada sat alone at a table in the university’s dining commons, trying to decide if she was nervous or angry. Sam was still hanging fliers for a fake school project, while Willow fetched hot water for tea.
Magic tea.
The phrase sounded ridiculous, yet Jada knew it was real. She’d spent a lot of time practicing how words like vampire and demon hunter sounded in her voice. They never sounded right.
But here she was, waiting for a magical tea party to begin.
“It’s not dangerous,” Sam had reassured her as they lounged in her bed on Sunday morning. “I just thought maybe you’d want to see what I saw.”
He had drunk some magic tea the day they went to the bookstore. The day he had started telling her about magic and vampires. She had known before then. She’d known since she was attacked by one of those monsters, but she’d known it the way a person remembered a place from childhood – dreamlike and peripheral.
“People with their heads in the clouds?” she’d asked, suspicious this was less about showing her anything and more about inching her toward comfort with the craziness he surrounded himself with.
“Aren’t you curious about who or what put you under the forgetting spell?”
A chill had run from her scalp to her toes. Of course, she was curious. She didn’t want to be controlled, but the idea of getting further into the supernatural world made her queasy. Throwing back the covers, she had quickly snatched Sam’s hoodie from the floor. “You want any coffee? I was thinking about making cinnamon rolls today.”
Looking at the smattering of students in the commons, she hoped they knew nothing. She wished them a monster-free life and blissful ignorance.
Willow, cheerfully dressed to fight winter in a red coat and purple hat, returned with three steaming mugs on a tray. She smiled warmly at Jada, as if they were old friends. “Oh good! You’re still here!”
Jada was surprised herself. “How do people normally commemorate doing their first spell? This feels like a moment.”
“No pomp; little circumstance. But you do get the personal satisfaction of your own secret coolness,” the witch said confidently as she removed her winter things and pulled a small box from her bag. “It’s not much of a spell. I did an abracadabra on these herbs a while ago. You just have to drink them.”
“So what made you decide to become a, uh, a witch?”
A grin broke over Willow’s face as she set out paper and pens. “I like a challenge, and I sort of have a talent for it. Once I started, I felt like I was unlocked, connected to something deeper, you know?”
Jada did know, and she wanted to lock herself up again.
Soon Sam arrived, the sight of him reminded her why she bothered with this chaos. The chilly air outside had turned his cheeks pink, and his nose was still cold when he kissed Jada’s cheek. “Ready?”
She wasn’t. “Tell me the plan again?”
“We want to get a better sense of what this spell is, so we need to test the waters. I put fliers up a few days ago requesting people meet us here to help with our grad school research project.”
“Spooky local folklore?” Jada recalled.
“And we want to see what happens to people’s clouds as we ask questions.”
Willow handed Jada and Sam clipboards. “One is questions for people with clouds, the other is for clear skies people. The lunch rush should hit in about fifteen minutes, so I’ll mill about while you two unmill here at the table.”
She crushed herbs over the mugs, making a colorful, if flaky, drink. “Ready, set, spell,” Willow said, taking a sip of her brew.
A little scared but not wanting to show it, Jada took a small sip. The flowery drink burned her mouth, but she felt nothing else. A dozen unclouded students and a handful of cafeteria staff, all unclouded, peppered the commons. Her fear melting away, she took a large gulp. Clouds ranging from an impenetrable darkness to a thin mist formed around the heads of all but four people in the commons.
She must have looked panicked, because Sam gently squeezed her hand. “I see it, too. Four of them?”
Jada nodded.
Willow cheerfully picked up a pen and clipboard. “Okay, let’s get interviewing.”
The following day, Sam came over for breakfast before work. After Jada got her aunt settled in watching morning talk shows, her conversation with Sam took a shocking turn.
“You want to what?!” Jada set down her coffee mug to avoid dropping it.
Sam hadn’t expected her to take the news well. But it was one thing to coddle his girlfriend when it came to vampires; it was another with Lucifer on the loose. He needed to know more about what had been preventing her from remembering the vampires. What was over the town?
Their interviews at UC Sunnydale hadn’t told them much. People with dense clouds weren’t aware of the supernatural. People with thinner clouds had heard rumors of weird events. People without clouds: They knew.
But what was causing it?
The fear that it could come back, reclaim Jada’s mind and blind her, kept Sam up at night. Would she go out at after sunset? Remove the protective symbols from the apartment?
For the first time since he and Dean and landed in Sunnydale, Sam felt the familiar squeeze of being up against a wall. And that made him desperate.
“Jada, I know it sounds insane, but Willow has summoned D’Hoffryn before. They’re on good terms. Besides, he’ll be bound in a demon trap.”
“But why here? Why not…far from here?”
“D’Hoffyrn already knows where we are,” Sam lied. He didn’t want to admit he was afraid of going too far from home at the moment. Lucifer was wounded with the loss of the Turok-Han and his sleeper agent, Spike, but that didn’t make it safe. “Might as well use the empty store downstairs. Besides, the apartments are protected, and he’s unlikely to be interested in you unless you’re feeling vengeful. Just stay inside.”
Jada cocked one eyebrow and examined him. Her lie detector was getting better. The day was coming that he would have to tell her everything.
“He’s dangerous?”
“Yes and no,” Sam said. “Not a claw-your-eyes-out-the-moment-he-sees-you sort of dangerous, but not exactly a creature you want to piss off either.”
She tapped her finger to her lips as she mulled it over. “Three o’clock. That’s when Auntie naps. If you’re going to invite a demon into our home, I plan to be there.”
“Really?” His stomach dropped. D'Hoffryn knew something about Sam, Dean, and whatever had brought them to Sunnydale. There was no telling what he’d reveal.
“I’m not about to go vampire hunting with you, but this is about something done to me. Besides, I am a consummate hostess.”
She handed him his satchel full of books and notes. “We can talk about it some more later. Don’t want to be late.”
The Winchesters, Buffy, and Willow gathered on the first floor of the brothers’ apartment building. It had previously served as a hair salon, and the tang of relaxers and dye still lingered in the air.
Sam and Dean were hanging blankets over the shop windows. It was the middle of the day. Not an ideal time to summon a demon.
“Do we really need this?” Willow asked, pointing to the demon trap Dean had painted on the floor.
“Demon. Yes,” Dean replied.
“I’ve talked to D’Hoffryn loads of times and never needed a trap.” Willow took a large jar of sand from her bag. “He’s no Clem, but he’s still pretty friendly as demons go. If anything, a trap’s going to make him pissed.”
“Kinda on the fence myself,” Buffy said.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Sam said as he and his brother walked back to the middle of the store. “Can’t be too careful with–”
The bell over the front door rang. Jada stood just inside the door, her fingers tightly grasping a red tin. Sam walked back to the front of the store and locked the door behind her.
“Oh, that’s a…date idea,” said Willow.
Jada eyes darted between Sam and the room. “I’m here for the summoning.” Her voice raised slightly at the end, as if she were asking herself if it were true.
“Wha’cha got?” Sam asked, leading her around the demon trap.
Jada held the tin tighter and grinned weakly. “Something to share later.”
“I still don’t like this,” Dean muttered, running his fingers through his hair.
Sam had only mentioned Jada joining them to Buffy and Dean. Even then, he knew he’d need Buffy to help him win Dean over to having the greenest newbie imaginable around while they summoned the most powerful demon they’d met in Sunnydale. And Sam was still in knots.
“Welcome,” said Buffy. “I found a good hiding spot for you.” She steered Jada to the back office where she’d be able to watch through a two-way mirror.
With Jada safely tucked out of sight (they hoped), Willow began to pour sand in a circle around the demon trap. She clutched an amulet in her hand as she chanted, “Beatum sit in nomine D'Hoffrynis. Fiat hoc spatium porta ad mundum Arashmaharris.”
In a flash of lightning, D’Hoffryn appeared. “Behold!– Oh, it’s just you. What do you want?”
“Answers,” said Buffy, sharply.
“I don’t want to play with you,” D’Hoffryn sighed. “Miss Rosenberg, I didn’t give you my talisman so you could call me for Lady Pain. I was hoping we could get a bubble tea. Talk about your gifts.”
Willow nodded pleasantly. “I’ll have to check my calendar. New semester has me busy. I signed up for an advanced course on dead languages.”
“Bubble tea, then tell me all about it.” D’Hoffryn snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. He snapped them again. The demon glowered at them before noticing the trap under his feet. “A demon trap? That’s so extra-dimensional… and tacky.”
“You ain’t going anywhere until we get some answers, chuckles,” Dean barked.
The demon curled his lip, baring his yellow fangs. “Chuckles? Do you know who you’re talking to, boy?”
“Excuse me? Mr. Demon?”
Everyone turned to Jada, standing outside of the safe office. She suddenly seemed smaller and more delicate than before.
The demon looked at her with confusion. “D’Hoffryn.”
“D’Hoffryn,” her voice small, “would you like some cookies? It must have been a long trip for you.” With trembling hands, she held out the tin.
Sam whispered, “Now really isn’t–”
“Cookies?” D’Hoffryn snarled. “Do you think the Master of the Vengeance Demons can be swayed by baked goods?”
“I-I think it’s impolite to invite someone over without giving them food.”
“You are not one of them,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “You are afraid of me, yet here you are.”
“Being afraid doesn’t mean you should hide,” Jada replied.
The demon plucked a chocolate chip cookie from the tin, sniffed it, and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm! This is almost as good as a blood sacrifice. Did you use real butter?”
“Of course!”
“Would you like to sit down,” she asked, gesturing to one of the salon chairs.
“Jada, remember? We put him in a trap,” Sam whispered in her ear. “He can’t leave that circle.”
“Why would you invite him over only to put him in a trap?” she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down. “You told me it was a bad idea to make him angry.”
“Because they’re morons,” D’Hoffryn said, a smear of chocolate on his lip.
“Told you!” Willow said.
Buffy sighed and pulled a folding knife from her leather jacket.
“Are you people crazy?” Dean asked. “Last time we saw this guy, he set someone on fire and choked me.”
“They’re still right,” Buffy said as she scraped paint from the floor with her knife.
D’Hoffryn stepped out of the circle and loomed over Jada. Grabbing the cookie tin, he plopped into one of the salon chairs and slowly spun around. “What are your questions?”
Dottie Johnson fished a long can out of her underwear drawer and quietly opened her bedroom window. Her niece – sweet and innocent to a fault – thought this was Dottie’s daily nap time. The girl wouldn’t dream her aunt regularly sneaked onto the fire escape to enjoy a cigar.
After pulling her chunky cardigan tightly around her shoulders, the old woman cupped her hand around the match, and puffed.
“Sneaking out again?” asked a rich, familiar voice.
“Me? Sneaking? How’d you get out of Heaven, handsome?” Dottie grinned at her husband, still as young as the day he died, leaning against the fire escape railing.
“Didn’t need to sneak. Got booted.”
“That’s my Jim,” she said proudly. “Would give the devil himself a run for his money.”
Jim smiled, making her tingle all over.
Pushing her sweater to the side, Dottie unbuttoned her blouse, the lace of her bra peeking out. She held her breath in anticipation.
As he’d done often since first appearing to her, Jim spread his fingers over her breastbone, his ghostly fingers pressing through her as a hot spark. It hurt like a shock from an outlet, but Dottie missed his touch too much to whimper. His fingers dipped in and out of her chest.
And then nothing but the cold winter air.
“Why’d you stop?” Dottie asked.
“This won’t work,” he said, exasperated.
Dottie tugged her cardigan tightly around her again. “Sugar, we can make it work. Just tell me what I need to do.”
Jim glared at her with disgust. “For starters, don’t be old and shriveled and closed up.”
The old woman recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “Did you forget your manners since you died? I didn’t ask for your ass to come haunting me!”
“My manners? Woman, I could get inside that crack in you, fill you up, make you warm and tingling until you pop. Dottie Johnson all over the walls. You want that? What I need is a much younger woman.”
Dottie didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t her Jim, and if it was, it wasn’t how she wanted to remember him. She slid her window open and stepped back inside.
As Jada watched a purple, horned demon eat her cookies, she felt like her heart would break her ribs. No one spoke, yet they all seemed disturbingly calm, as if the presence of a demon – a loose demon – was as mundane as driving to work. Fearing he’d be less amiable once the treats were gone, she cleared her throat. “Do you know anything about a spell over Sunnydale?”
D’Hoffryn licked some chocolate from his claws and sighed. “You’ll have to be more specific. This is a Hellmouth, after all.”
“Something that keeps people from seeing the monsters, from holding them in their minds,” Sam added.
He flashed a fangy grin. “Oh, that spell. Big fan.”
“You causing it?” Dean asked. His voice was clipped and pushy, like a cop badgering a suspect.
“Miss Rosenberg and I combined couldn’t create a spell this all-encompassing.” The demon popped another cookie in his mouth, moaning slightly as he chewed. “You see, it’s not just Sunnydale, it’s the whole planet. It’s only occasionally broken when idiot vampires or one of the lower beings get villagers in a pitchfork-and-torch tizzy. Otherwise, it’s a perfect shroud for all sorts of unsavory supernatural activities.”
“So whoever is behind this isn’t team human,” Buffy hopped up on one of the salon counters and started twirling a comb in her fingers. “Doesn’t exactly narrow things down. Mr. Big Stuff got a name?”
D’Hoffryn shrugged. “There are rumors of God and gods, but I’ve never concerned myself with who.”
“You said the spell was over the whole earth,” Willow said. “But you’ve traveled to all sorts of dimensions. Have you seen this spell anywhere else?”
“Proving yourself the smart one once again.” The demon looked at Willow with some degree of affection, an idea that made Jada’s stomach lurch. “No, I’ve only seen it here.”
“But you’ve traveled other places?” Dean asked. “Like where we’re from?”
“No, I’ve not been to the Angelverse. Those three-faced bastards keep their dimension on lockdown. Would love a key.” D’Hoffryn poked around in the tin before eating a broken cookie.
Where we’re from? Angelverse? Dimensions? Jada wanted to throw up.
“But angels can come here?” Sam asked.
The demon looked up as if he was looking through the ceiling and into the apartments above. “I think you know it’s not impossible. But there are, of course, consequences.”
“Consequences? What kind? For who?” Sam asked eagerly.
D’Hoffryn dropped the tin with a clang. “Hmm, no cookies, no questions.”
“Please, Mr. Demon, just one more question,” Jada pleaded. “You said you’ve never worried about who is behind all of this, but do you have an idea? A top three? Having a name to attach to this craziness would make me feel safer.”
To her surprise, the demon doubled over laughing. Every time he looked at her, his giggles started anew until black tears streamed from his eyes. Eventually, he composed himself, and snickering through his hand said, “I like you. Deep rage under that skin. Startling control. But how much is that question worth to you?”
“Jada, don’t!” Dean barked as Sam moved between her and D’Hoffryn.
Master of the Vengeance Demons. That’s what he’d called himself. Jada swallowed her fear as she moved around Sam. Her safety wasn’t a laughing matter, but maybe it was negotiable. “I’ll make you more cookies, if that’s what you’d like.”
He pointed a clawed finger at her. “Every week.”
“Jada, no! You’re safe, okay?” Buffy shouted.
She’s so tiny. Jada marveled that Buffy was involved in this monster mess, that she’d survived so long on patrols with Dean. She smiled at Buffy and shook her head.
Sam grabbed Jada’s wrist and whispered in her ear. “Hey, you don’t need to make a deal. I’ll protect you.”
Jada shook her head and turned to face Sam. “You summoned a demon. You started by making him angry. And what information have you gotten? I’m scared Sam. I’m scared of what I know and what I don’t know, but I think it’s time I learn more.”
She faced the demon who was lounging cross-legged in the salon chair.
“This pact is binding,” he explained. “Which means if you miss a week – you’re in the hospital, you go on vacation, you simply forget – I own you.”
Jada swallowed. “Will you answer a new question for me every week?”
He stroked his long beard before asking, “Do you do frosting?”
“In my sleep.”
“Why not? I’ll be a chatty Kathy for sweets.”
“Then it’s a deal. Mr. Demon, I, or someone under my roof, will make you cookies every week. Where should I deliver them?”
D’Hoffryn grinned. “Smart girl. I will find you every Thursday. Be ready when I call.
“As to your question, the name is not important if safety is your goal. The Devil is practically on your doorstep, and you’ve left the door unlocked. As long as you associate yourself with The Slayer and the chosen vessels of the archangels Michael and Lucifer, you will never be safe.
“I don’t really have a top three, but if you want a name, my best guess is…” He paused. “Willow.” D’Hoffryn snapped his fingers and disappeared in a flash of light.
Willow looked at the group wide-eyed. “I-I couldn’t even get all the classes I wanted. I’m not–”
Buffy grabbed her friend’s hand. “We know, Will. He’s just messing with us.”
“Can’t trust demons.” Dean looked at Jada pityingly. “Shouldn’t have let her come, Sam.”
Jada scooped her empty cookie tin off the floor. “I’ve found food is the best social lubricant if you want information. So you’re welcome.”
“Look, I’ve been doing this –”
Jada raised her hand, cutting him off. She didn’t want to hear about their life on the road. Their hunts. Their kills. And she didn’t want to be reassured that she was safe. This room full of experts had sought help from a demon only with a plan of rudeness and intimidation – so no plan at all.
“I have cookies to plan for, and you have information to sort through,” she said firmly before dashing back up to her apartment.
Sam followed her, of course. Knocked a few times. Tried calling her cell. But Jada had dived into research the moment she she got upstairs. With the cat pawing at her legs, Jada sat at her computer and typed in the search: vessel of Lucifer.