Page 105 of Cold Curses

“How’s it going with the wards?” I asked.

“They’re crap,” Uncle Catcher said.

Well, maybe not singularly safe. But pretty safe, at least.

“Paige got the crack in the broken cornerstone mostly healed, so we spent most of the night trying to reestablish the cornerstone–ley line link. Nothing worked. It might be easier if we had a manual, but even then…” He shrugged, ate a forkful of kale. For some reason.

“They were built on the fly,” I said. “No sorcerers in Chicago, so the Guardians used whatever magic or spells they could cobble together. Kind of a miracle they lasted this long.”

“Very much so,” Uncle Catcher said. “And I know what it’s like to magic under pressure. So I don’t fault them for the effort. But the magic is the Victorian equivalent of duct tape and crossed fingers.”

“The machine is well-built,” I said, feeling defensive on Hugo’s behalf.

“Not magic,” Uncle Catcher pointed out. “Amazing craftsmanship but built by human hands. Or at least with human tech.”

“So, what do you do, then?”

Mom and Uncle Catcher shared a glance that said they’d discussed the answer to that question.

“We have to talk to Roger and the mayor,” Mom said.

“But if they’re good with it, we scrap the entire system,” Uncle Catcher said.

I stopped midbite, put the triangle of sandwich on my plate. A piece of bacon bounced out, as if relieved by last-second reprieve.

“Scrap it?” I asked. “Like, no more demon wards?”

“Demon wards,” Uncle Catcher continued. “But not like this. A single integrated system rather than a piecemeal mess.”

“How?” my dad asked, cutting a slice of pizza with a knife and fork. Because Dad.

“Bubble,” Uncle Catcher said. “Or at least that’s how we’re conceptualizing it.” He glanced at me. “You heard about the Feds’ technology—with a shifting matrix that absorbs magic?”

I nodded. “And that it’s dangerous and not fully tested.”

“Yeah, we aren’t going to use it per se,” he said. “But I was intrigued by the idea. Part of the problem with the old system is that it’s not limited to bad acts—namely, doing demon magic. It’s triggered by demons who could, at least theoretically, not be assholes.”

“Spike and Angel,” Mom offered, and Uncle Catcher nodded.

“Do I know them?” I asked, and the look the three of them—family all—gave me could have frozen water.

“I have failed you as a parent,” Mom said, shaking her head.

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer,”Dad said with a smile. “I don’t think you liked that show.”

“Oh, you’re talking about the not-quite-bad guys in the screen show,” I said. “Right.”

“The point is,” Uncle Catcher continued, “we judge the sin and not the sinner. A bubble protects the city against demon magic, with several fail-safes.”

“And a manual,” I said. “Please, don’t forget the manual.”

He smiled. “Naturally. The bubble will be magical, so, yeah, it could potentially be vulnerable to attack. But with a good manual, future sorcerers can easily recreate it, strengthen it. The system would be stable. Without ghosts, animal statuary, or river monsters required.”

“How long?” I asked. “If the mayor says yes.”

“That’s the best part,” he said, leaning forward. “Between me,Mallory, Paige, and the strength of the ley lines, I’m pretty sure we could have it in place tomorrow.”

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