Shadows in the Mist

by Jeri Westerson

  “Why?”

  “Because when you are having a fancy party, you want fancy serving utensils. You can grab small cakes and pastries that would fall off of a spatula.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I walked over and took it out of his hands. “Well, you wouldn’t because you don’t eat.”

  “Eating looks…disgusting.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “You like eating?”

  “I guess.”

  “And preparing food?”

  “I do enjoy that.”

  “If I could eat, I’d eat whatever you made.”

  I stopped and looked at him. He was perfectly serious and perfectly lovely. “That was a very nice thing to say.”

  He fluffed a little. “I can be nice when called upon.”

  We were leaning in toward each other when that damned bell…

  “Hope I’m not interrupting,” said Jolene with a twinkle in her eye.

  “No,” I said, spinning away from Erasmus to put the tongs back on the shelf.

  Jolene stuffed her bag behind the counter and donned the green apron I’d given her. I’d ordered them a week ago when I felt like we needed some kind of uniform. I even got an extra one Jeff could use. I didn’t dare make Erasmus wear one. “Any customers?”

  “Yeah, loads. We’re doing okay, but I’m trying to come up with ways to really get out into the community. What do you think about a Tea of the Month Club?”

  “That’s a good idea!”

  “And I’m going to suggest around town that I can cater dessert teas for birthdays and special occasions.”

  “That also sounds good. You’ve come up with some great ideas.”

  “I hope so. I’ve got to spend more time here. I’m working on the website re-design. Do you think I should expand to Machias?”

  “You mean open another shop?”

  “No, just advertise there.”

  “Yeah. I’d be more available to help with that in the summer. Of course, you have Mr. Chase now. Speaking of, is he here?” She looked around as if he’d pop up from behind a samovar.

  “I think he’s prowling the cemetery. Our old friend the ghoul is back, remember?”

  “I hate to think about what those poor families are facing.” She drooped a little, then perked up just as quickly. “Nick went back to work today. I’m really proud of him.”

  “Wow. Me too. We’ll have to toast him with…something tonight.”

  “I’m glad we’re getting together. I’ve got some news.” She disappeared behind the counter before popping up again with her tablet. “I’ve been studying our de-summoning ritual. And despite it being…interrupted…” She flicked a disapproving glance at Erasmus. “I think we can modify it slightly and use it on…” She trailed off, then whispered, “Baphomet.”

  Erasmus turned a mild expression toward her. “What conceivable reason can make you think that this is possible?”

  “I’ve studied all the sources. Well, as many sources as I could translate. It really can work. And no stabbing him with crossbow quarrels, Mr. Dark—iron has no effect on a god.”

  He snorted. “I am suitably chastened…by a little girl.”

  “That’s exciting, Jolene! If we could send him back… But I do have to consider all the options. Can you kill a god?”

  “You have an extraordinary penchant for killing,” said Erasmus.

  “I just want to be covered, okay? Is that so bad?”

  “Kylie’s right. You have to cover your bases. And in my research, the only thing I found that could kill a god is a sword made of fulgurite.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her face lit up, as it always did, when she was excited about some bit of research. “It’s a cool crystalline structure created when lightning hits sand or rock.”

  “Wow.” A hopeful feeling bloomed in my chest. “Well, where do we get some of that?”

  “The internet, of course. But it has to be just right. Strong enough to make a sword. A lot of them flake and crumble. Rock would be best but it’s the rarest. And the most expensive.”

  “Don’t worry about the expense.” I was already figuring in my head the kind of money I could easily get ahold of.

  “I can steal it, you know,” said Erasmus, matter-of-factly.

  I snatched a glance at our impressionable young teen. “We aren’t going to do that.”

  “Why? I stole the necklace.”

  “And that wasn’t very nice.”

  “But you needed to see what it was.”

  “The ends do not justify the means.”

  “Do you even know what you are talking about?”

  A high, piercing whistle stopped the two of us in our tracks. Jeff had arrived, and I hadn’t even heard the bell above the door. “Yo! Truce. Kylie doesn’t want you to steal it, so that should be good enough for you, Romeo.”

  “Who is Romeo?”

  “Hi, kid,” he said to Jolene, who blushed and stuttered. I’d forgotten how attractive he was to women of all ages. And being a werewolf made him buffer than he’d been before. He slipped his apron over his head. “What are we talking about stealing anyway?”

  “Fulgurite,” said Jolene. “A crystalline structure made with lightning.”

  “No kidding? Cool.”

  “It could be used to kill Baphomet,” I explained.

  “Gotcha. Sounds like a plan. Where do we get it?”

  “On the internet,” said Jolene.

  “Maybe there are closer places. Like universities, libraries, you know? They might have a display.”

  I looked at him askance. “Sounds like you’re talking about stealing.”

  “Maybe. If we’re talking about taking out the Goat Guy, maybe I’m up for a little larceny. That means you, big guy.” He slapped Erasmus on the back. The demon wasn’t up on human interaction. His eyes began to glow red and he looked ready to lunge.

  I swooped in between them. “Erasmus, he was only being good-natured.”

  “He struck me.”

  “No, that was just a friendly slap on the back. Between humans, that’s a…a…”

  “A conciliatory expression,” Jolene cut in.

  “I don’t like it,” he growled.

  Jeff gave him a cheerful smile over his shoulder. Now that Jeff was a werewolf, he didn’t seem to fear the demon. I wondered who’d win in a fight.

  I shook that thought loose. It was getting late, which meant the Draugr would be out again. I was afraid to hear what Ed might report. Where the hell was Shabiri?

  “Erasmus? Can you call Shabiri?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe I should phrase that differently. Would you call Shabiri…for me?”

  “No.”

  Jeff laughed. “Dude, I know you’re new to dating and all, but when your lady says, ‘do it for me,’ you don’t say no. That’s a surefire way to get locked out of the bedroom.”

  “Jeff!” I gestured toward Jolene.

  “I’m not blind,” she said from behind her tablet.

  Erasmus frowned. I could tell he didn’t like listening to what Jeff had to say, but he seemed to be considering it. “I…simply don’t like contacting her. Unless it is absolutely necessary.”

  I shrugged. “It is kind of important.”

  He huffed. “Very well. I will search for her.”

  “But not in the Netherworld! I don’t want you going there.”

  “I won’t go there. Don’t worry.” He offered a tick of a smile and vanished.

  “Neat trick,” said Jeff wistfully.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Night was falling, and it was getting misty. I hurried through the sale of some tea and mugs, hustling my poor customer out of the store and standing in the doorway to make sure she got into her car all right.

  When she drove away, I turned the sign from OPEN to CLOSED and peered into the mist. They were out there. I could sense them. Or at least I thought I could. Erasmus had not returned, and neither
had Shabiri. Was she just toying with us? How hard was it to bring back the gold you had stolen? And seriously, Erasmus needed a cell phone. Though perhaps the roaming charges would be steep.

  I heard Doc’s Rambler coming down the street before I saw it emerge from the mist. Seraphina was with him. Rumbling right alongside them was Nick’s junker.

  The coven had arrived.

  After greeting everyone, I explained that Erasmus had gone to fetch Shabiri, but neither of them had yet returned. Jolene announced her theory that Baphomet could be sent back with the de-summoning ritual. Thoughtful conversation followed. And all the while, my Spidey sense was tingling. Or more likely it was the Booke giving me signals, telling me something was up. I was jumpy and nervous as I paced in the back, looking out the windows.

  Through the mist and the dark, shadows moved.

  “Guys. Hey, guys!”

  One by one, they joined me at the windows. The Draugr, clad in their disheveled armor and chain mail, whooshed out of the mist. Some carried weapons on their boney shoulders. Others dragged their blades behind them in the grips of their nearly dismembered limbs,

  They were headed right for the shop.

  “Is it my imagination,” said Jeff, “or do they look pissed?”

  I nodded. “They do, kind of.”

  Their skeletal faces were all turned toward us. Though many of them had only empty eye sockets, they still looked as if they were frowning. Their jaws hung open, and they were audibly moaning. Some, who still had lips and tongues, were speaking. Danish, Norwegian? I really couldn’t say.

  “They’re heading for us,” I said. “Nick, have you got your bag of tricks?”

  “Right here.” He grabbed the bag of magic dust and headed toward the door. What exactly he tripped over I’ll never know. But I saw it all as if in slow motion; his body falling forward, the bag leaving his hands and flying through the air, then hitting the floor in a big puff of dust…and then it all filtered through the three-hundred-year-old floorboards and disappeared.

  Nick swore, and I think every one of us repeated the same word in our heads.

  “Please don’t tell me that was all the magic dust you had,” I said.

  He looked up sorrowfully. “Then I won’t say it?”

  I screamed as something hit the door hard. We all backed away. Shadows of milling figures passed over the curtains. A harsh clatter sounded a second time. An axe.

  “We’re going to need weapons,” I said. But my crossbow would be useless. “There’s an axe outside in the back. And a meat cleaver in the kitchen.”

  “I’m on it,” said Jeff, rushing toward the back door.

  Nick began to growl. He turned to me, eyes green and glowing.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Wolfing out is a good idea.”

  He began to unselfconsciously undress. Seraphina had the presence of mind to take his clothes and shield Jolene as he slipped out of his trousers. He was going commando these days. Probably easier for the transformation.

  Somehow in the midst of everything, I had reached for my phone. “Ed. We have undead company.”

  “I’ll be right there.” I might have even heard the siren in the distance.

  Jeff returned with the axe and shoved it into my hands. “I can do more as a wolf.”

  “Go. Do it!”

  He slipped off his clothes, trousers barely off before he fully morphed. Seraphina scooped them off the floor and put them with the other pile. “What can we do, Kylie?”

  “I don’t know.” The door shook again. “Get something heavy you can use as a weapon. And aim for the head. It’s the only thing that works. I wish I had a sword.” Should I get the Spear of Mortal Pain? If it was anything like the crossbow it would do no good. “Jolene, you hide.”

  “I can fight!”

  “No, you can hide. That’s an order.”

  The door slammed again. This time the axe head made it through the door. I expected “Here’s Johnny!” any second, only in medieval Danish. What I didn’t expect was the roar of Harleys outside.

  I rushed to the window and threw open the curtains. A green, gooey Viking face peered in at me. It opened its slackened mouth and shrieked. I threw the curtains back and stepped away just as its club smashed through the window.

  Glass sprinkling around me, Doc pulled me back. There was a roar and a bright light outside followed by unholy screams. I couldn’t help but rush to the window again to see Doug, laughing and aiming a flamethrower strapped to his back. Another jet of fire streaked forward, and the monster with the axe at my front door went up like kindling. It stumbled, dropping his axe, and staggered toward Lyndon Road.

  The other Vikings were torn between running from the fire and heading further toward us. That was when WereJeff opened the door and tore out of there. “Jeff!”

  I got to the doorway in time to see him clamp his jaws around the leg of a Viking and drag it away.

  Its medieval axe lay on my porch. I tossed the axe in my hand to Seraphina and grabbed the Viking one. I stood holding it in front of my door. It seemed heavier.

  “Kylie!” warned Doc.

  I turned. A Draugr was lunging toward me. One hand grabbed for me with dirty fingernails, while the other slapped against its leg, hanging by a sinew.

  I didn’t even stop to think. I wound up and swung.

  The axe went through its neck like slightly cold, chunky butter. Not as smoothly as I would have wanted, but still his head went one way and his body the other, so the result was still effective.

  I looked down at the axe, then at the headless, twitching body as the undead became deader by the moment. Was I going to be sick? I thought about it for half a second before another Viking came for me. I leapt off the porch, wanting to lure them away from the shop and the coven. Though when I looked back, Seraphina was brandishing the wood axe like some warrior princess. Okay then.

  Doug’s boys were swinging baseball bats at zombie heads. Probably the most fun they’d had in a long time. Sanctioned mayhem at last.

  Doug glanced toward me and winked. “That a Chosen Host thing?” he asked, nodding toward the bloodied axe.

  I shrugged. “I guess. Maybe a pissed-off shopkeeper thing, too. Where’d you get the—”

  “Oh, this?” He raised up the hose and ignited it again with a whoosh, sweeping over some Vikings who got too close. “Amazing what you can get at an Army surplus store.” He ignited it once more and strode forward, napalming the crap out of the line.

  A hand closed over my shoulder from behind and squeezed. When I glanced down, the hand was gray and green and lacking a finger. Ew, it was touching me!

  It yanked me back so hard I lost my footing. Its hands closed over my throat, pulling me up by my neck. It smelled really bad, but since my breath was being choked away, soon I hardly noticed.

  I stared at its grisly face, the contortions of rotting skin and shedding hair. Its eyes drifted around their sockets, but nevertheless seemed to be staring at me…or into me. It lowered its face and opened its mouth. I was struck frozen with terror. It was going to eat me!

  I turned my head just as soggy lips and sharp-edged teeth closed around my ear. I had no breath with which to scream. Only in my head did the screams roll and roll out.

  I was suddenly spattered with black gore.

  The hand fell away from my neck. I scooted back as fast as I could and looked up to see Seraphina chopping its head into literal pulp. This experience was going to star in my nightmares for several nights running, I was sure of it.

  She looked back at me mildly when the zombie was still. Remarkably, I still had the axe in my hand. Instead of running away—an instinct that was strong and hammering at me—the Chosen Host in me made me get up and look for new prey.

  All around me, zombies were advancing but getting beaten back by the Ordo. Doug looked in his element, like a black-bearded devil, as he sprayed fire toward Draugr and laughed all the while.

  My two werewolves were tearing other zombies apart,
their muzzles covered in black goo. Every time one was dispatched, their wolfy eyes would seek out another and pounce.

  I didn’t think it was my imagination that there seemed to be many more than before. Could they be multiplying? Was it to be an endless battle? Every time we cut one down, would two more rise in their place? We needed to end this. And to end this, we needed that gold!

  “Shabiri! Erasmus! Where the hell are you?”

  Nothing except more zombies.

  They were definitely after Jeff’s necklace. Ruth was lucky she wasn’t still wearing it. They were reaching for the locket with their boney hands, their horrific faces nearly drooling at it.

  Among the carnage, something scurried around, grabbing up smashed heads and dismembered legs. “That little son of a bitch!”

  I marched forward, my axe aloft.

  The ghoul only had time to look back at me with those ridiculous ping-pong ball eyes before I swung down, cleaving its head in two. Light spewed out of the crack in its skull, then everywhere as its body disintegrated into beams of light.

  The Booke arrived with its quill. Not the most convenient moment, when the Draugr were bearing down on me, trying to decide if I would be a tasty addition to their traveling feast. Still, it had to be done. I looked around warily to see just how vulnerable I was, then dragged the floating Booke away from the center of the melee. I used blood from a cut on my arm as my ink. This is the second time I captured this same ghoul. I struck its head with an axe in the middle of a zombie fight… I figured I might as well make this an interesting read for whatever god created the damned Booke.

  The ghoul burst more quickly into shards of light than it had before. With only a few terse words written in my own blood, the creature disappeared with a pop. I slammed the Booke closed and shoved it aside. Doug was looking at me with the bright eyes of admiration…and something more. Good grief, not another one. My date book was filled.

  I ducked just in time to escape the clutches of another damned zombie. I snapped back up and swung, hacking its arm off at the shoulder.

  I didn’t have time to feel nauseated. I was chopping and spinning and lopping off heads as fast as they were showing up. I tried not to think about how much zombie goo covered me.