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the object across the room and yanked the bedsheet away. Underneath was a tall, full-length standing mirror set in a dark mahogany frame. Strange and exotic symbols were carved along its edge, and there were smooth areas of black beneath the dark red stain where countless hands had handled the mirror over the centuries. So many times Lucifer had wanted to throw it away, but for some reason, she could never bring herself to do it.
    â€œDid it have any of these symbols carved into it?”
    Buck took a step backward, his eyes wide. “What is that?”
    â€œWhat’s it look like? It’s a mirror, now focus. Did Gina’s vanity have any of these symbols or not?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    Buck took a tentative step forward to get a better look at the mirror. “Yeah, I’m sure. No symbols. Just pictures of friends, notes, that sort of thing. Nothing like that.”
    Buck reached out to touch the glass. Lucifer grabbed him so fast that the slap of her palm on his wrist sounded like a gunshot. “Don’t touch.” Quickly, she tossed the bedsheet back over the mirror.
    â€œNo symbols, that’s good. And bad,” she said. Lucifer began thumbing through the pages of the book. “If her vanity had any of these symbols, I’d know exactly where your daughter is. But since it doesn’t, she’s not there. That’s a good thing.”
    â€œWhat’s the bad?”
    â€œAll the other places she could be.”
    Buck desperately grabbed Lucifer by the shoulders. “What places? Tell me so I can go find her! Where’s my daughter?”
    Lucifer looked up from the book and very calmly said, “Officer Pierce, don’t make me put you in another headlock.”
    He let go of her shoulders as if he had touched a hot stove. “Oh . . . I apologize. I just . . . I just need to find her.”
    Lucifer held the open book out for Buck to look at. The pages were brittle and yellowed with age, but the words and illustrations were still plain to see. “The thing that took her. Was this it?”
    Buck took the book and squinted. On the page was an old woodcut image of a two-headed creature with tentacles for arms and one very fat, very short leg. “No. It looked like a woman. Very tall. Old with frazzled hair. Brunette, or was when she was younger. Black dress, tattered from age and her smile . . . Good God, her smile . . .”
    Under normal circumstances, Lucifer would have been impressed. Most people can only remember a vague detail here and there. But since he was a cop, he was used to committing details to memory. Unfortunately, what he was describing was worse than the creature in the book.
    Lucifer walked over to a small shelf on the far wall and grabbed a leather-bound notebook. Behind her, she could hear Buck flipping pages. “Are these things real?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” she lied. “Here, take a look at this. Did the thing you saw look anything like this?” She pointed to a pencil sketch in the notebook. Though the sketch wouldn’t win any art awards, it captured the image well enough.
    â€œYes! She looked like that! Just like that!”
    Lucifer’s heart sank. Even though she didn’t know his daughter, she was suddenly very afraid for her. Lucifer knew that, wherever she was, she was in a great deal of danger.
    â€œWhat is it?” Buck asked, his voice cracking with stress. Lucifer looked up at him and hoped he couldn’t see how suddenly frightened she was.
    â€œ That is a witch.”

CHAPTER 4
    Lucifer stood in the shadows and watched the bizarre sight. The bleachers of the Jefferson High School gymnasium were littered with dozens of students, scattered about like flies on a piece of rotten fruit. Among them was a small gaggle of girls dressed in their school colors of blue and orange sitting in a huddle toward the edge of the court. They hovered over