The Blessed Undead (Return to Sleepy Hollow Book 2)

by Candace Wondrak

  And what’s worse? The townsfolk of Tarry, of the little nook that was Sleepy Hollow, would pay the ultimate price. This town would be hers, and she would rule it with an iron fist. No outside interference, the veil between earth and the otherworld torn permanently over the field.

  But, of course that wasn’t all.

  Of course it wasn’t, because all of that wasn’t bad enough.

  The entire field would shake once she had my body. The ground would split, skeletons from the past rising for the first time since they were felled in the Revolutionary War. But mere skeletons they were not.

  Bones, but around them, semi-translucent spirits. Katrina called the spirits over, gave them bodies that would terrify the rest of the populace—but a body without a soul would not last, and eventually the bones would fade to dust as time went on. No, these spirits would be her watch guards, the ones terrorizing the town and its people. These spirits would do her bidding so that they could claim a human body as their own, as long as she allowed.

  The army of skeletons were Katrina’s blessed undead, the minions to her evil plotting. No queen bitch was complete without her minions.

  Sheer terror crept through me, even after Katrina pulled the vision from my mind. I was on the ground, my hands digging into the grass. My tablet of shadows had vanished sometime during the vision, and my head pounded something fierce. The pain in my arm was nothing compared to how my brain felt in this moment.

  “You,” Katrina spoke, stepping towards me with a slow, steady pace. The fifty feet between us was closing at a rapid pace, and I felt too tired to even lift my head. “You have been such a bother, useful only in that you finally brought that pretty body back to me.” She was now ten feet in front of me. “I thought you’d keep coming back, but you stopped. The only way to get you to come back was, of course, to end dear old daddy.”

  My fingers curled in the grass, the blood from my arm coating the nearby blades. Each and every word she spoke was laced with venom, and I bit back a wince, hating that she thought she had the upper hand.

  “Once I have my body back, once I am whole, I will be at my peak power again. With your father’s journal, I’ll be able to unleash the spirits from the otherworld and rule this place like I always should have.”

  Bad guy monologues were universal, apparently, even if the bad guy was a bad woman.

  Still, something didn’t make sense to me. Something I couldn’t help but wonder about. I was bent over, staring at the grass below, my fingers curled. Sweat lined my brow. “Whole?” My voice shook as I spoke, and yet I had to ask, because…well, if it meant what I thought it did, my plan might change.

  “Yes,” Katrina spoke. With a flick of her wrist, I was sent flying, landing on my back a few feet away. “Whole. You didn’t think you’d still be alive once we were one, did you? Your mind might’ve been locked away these past few days, but that’s because the transition couldn’t be completed. No matter. I’ll have Henry watch over you until the full moon.”

  As she clicked her fingers together and gestured for him to go to me, to restrain me or whatever other nonsense she had in store for me, I blinked at the sky above me. Henry? Fucking Henry? What kind of name was Henry? He wasn’t some old man, and he wasn’t some royal king from England’s past. He was the Headless Horseman, not fucking Henry.

  Between the grass and my palm, I felt my tablet of shadows reappear, and I heard Wash’s heavy footsteps. “His name,” I whispered, sitting up as I brought my tablet to my chest, “is Washington, not fucking Henry.”

  Katrina swatted a hand aside in the air, seeking to tear the tablet from my hand with her magic, but the tablet remained firmly in place. “Take that thing away from her and lock her in the otherworld until we’re ready for her here.”

  The pages were already flipping as she spoke, and I glanced down, figuring out just what I had to do. My arm stung, and I was exhausted, but I would not let her have Wash. She didn’t deserve him. Not even a little.

  Wash’s large frame moved toward me, and the moment he grabbed my arm—right on the injury too, his fingers digging into the cut and making me bleed more—I set my other palm against his forehead, right in the center.

  “No!” Katrina cried out, but it was too late, because all I had to say was a single word.

  “Break.” The word was already out of my mouth before Katrina shouted no. With my palm connected to his forehead, I could feel him. His brain, the connection between him and Katrina, her magic clouding his judgment and forcing him to do her bidding. I felt it as I spoke the word, and after the word was spoken, the connection was gone. Snapped, as if the Fates themselves had cut the line.

  A weight fell upon my shoulders, and I instantly collapsed back, struggling to breathe. My tablet once again vanished into thin air. Blood oozed from my nostrils as Wash stumbled back, gripping the sides of his head as if it was going to explode.

  Katrina was by my side the next moment, kneeling beside me. She grabbed my neck and forced me to look at her. Even though she wore the body of an old woman, she was stronger than me. That spell…breaking her control over Wash, had taken everything I had—silly, because it seemed like the simplest spell of all.

  “You moron,” Katrina hissed, spitting on me as she glowered. With the moon silver above her, all I could see were the whites of her eyes. “If you destroy this body before I can reclaim it, I will make you a spirit and drag you back here, make you grovel for all eternity. I might not ever be as strong as I was, but if there’s one thing I am, it’s spiteful.”

  Wash was back to being himself, and through heavy eyelids, I saw that he now held onto his double-sided ax. The way he glared at Katrina, it was murderous. Katrina was the only person alive who I’d be okay with him killing. She’d been in that body for a while now; I highly doubted there was enough of that soul to save.

  Still holding onto my neck, something I couldn’t fight, Katrina turned her eyes up at Wash. “Kill me now,” her grip on my neck tightened, even as her fingers loosened their grip. Her magic was strangling me, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t breathe in. “And I take her with me.”

  And then something loud pierced the air, something I hadn’t heard in my life, but a noise I knew anyway: a gunshot.

  Katrina’s torso bent back, and she collapsed on the grass, crying out. Wash was at my side, still holding onto his ax and he helped me to sit up. Once I was up, I was able to see the bullet hole leaking red on her lower left shoulder.

  “If you move another fucking muscle, I’ll shoot again,” Bones called out as he and Crane made their appearance, running from the square, based on the direction they came from. The gun he carried was not his police-issued firearm; it was smaller, almost hilariously so.

  I wanted to ask about the gun, but instead I fought to get to my feet. Katrina was in pain; I doubted she’d ever been shot, so it was a new sensation all around for her. I hope it stung like a bitch.

  Wash’s firm grip was the only reason I was able to stand. I swayed on my feet, feeling lightheaded and exhausted, weary to my very core. And not my sexual core, the core of my being. The core of who I was. My soul was fucking done with this…but it wasn’t quite over yet.

  My gaze dropped to the ax Wash held. It was the Horseman’s ax, so I wasn’t sure if it would work, if I could even take it. I slowly untangled myself from Wash’s steadfast hold, meeting his warm brown gaze as I reached for it.

  “Kat,” he spoke my name for the first time ever, and I felt my heart swell. Wash said nothing else as he allowed me to take it from him. And, you know what was the most surprising thing about it all? The ax didn’t fade from existence once Wash released it. I was able to take it, to hold it, to curl my fingers around its steel grip.

  I was holding onto the Horseman’s otherworldly ax…and it felt strangely good.

  I nearly stumbled as I took a step to stand near Katrina’s bleeding form, but I caught myself. That, or the ax would’ve. Fortunately for me, it wasn’t that
heavy. And by that heavy, I meant it weighed near nothing. I felt metal in my hand, saw it as I held onto it, but it didn’t drag me down. The ax was weightless to me…or maybe I was just so tired, I couldn’t be bothered to add any more exhaustion onto the pile that was my life.

  Keyword there: my. My life. This was my life, and Katrina Van Tassel wasn’t going to take it from me. I might hold a part of her inside of me, but I was me, and I sure as shit wasn’t ever going to let her win. Her reign of terror would never see the light of day. My vision would never come to fruition.

  This was it. The end of the line, the final curtain call. The final episode in the Katrina Van Tassel show.

  Katrina glared at me, struggling to sit up. I, having a bit of Katrina herself in me, was a bitch and dug the tip of the ax against the bullet hole, forcing her back down. “You can’t kill me,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said, an incredulous smile forming on my face. It wasn’t a gleeful smile; I wasn’t proud of what I was going to do, but as I flicked my gaze up and met the eyes of my men—Crane, Bones, and Wash—I knew I had to be the one to do it. They’d be more than willing to end this for me, but after everything she did, after going after Bones, brainwashing Wash, sleeping with Crane during one of my blackouts, and killing my dad…

  Well, let’s just say my conscience wouldn’t let me lose a night’s sleep over what I was about to do.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I told her. Once she was on the ground, I lifted the ax only to place a foot against her injury, digging my sole into the bullet hole. “You might need me, but I don’t need you. I’ve been just fine this long without you, and I’ll be fine after you’re gone, too.”

  “You will never know your true potential if you kill me,” Katrina wheezed, her old, haggard face twisted in pain.

  At that, I glanced again to my men. Crane stood closest, still without his glasses, but he was doing his best to look at me, a supportive expression on his elegant face. He needed a bit of a shave, but that went hand in hand with being tied up and tossed aside like trash. Bones, meanwhile, stared right at me, the small gun still in his hands. If I asked him to, I knew he’d shoot to kill. I didn’t doubt Katrina wanted to keep them only to have them possessed later. Two weakened subjects, perfect for her favorite pet spirits.

  Too bad I already took care of the white-haired one, huh?

  And then, lastly, I looked to Wash. He stood a few feet away, his lips quirked downward. He didn’t look happy, but then again, he hardly ever looked happy. I didn’t think I’d once seen him smile, but by God, sooner or later I would. I would make that man smile, and I would snap a mental picture of it to always remember it. I wouldn’t let him spend the rest of his days regretting falling under Katrina’s spell; she had centuries to multiply her power. It wasn’t his fault he helped her with her plan, that he’d hurt Bones while under her command.

  “I don’t care about my potential,” I said, slowly bringing my stare back to the old woman on the ground. “Honestly, I just want to pay off my student loans, find a decent job, and live happily with these guys—whether that’s in Sleepy Hollow or not.” I let out a chuckle. “I don’t even care where I am, as long as I’m with them. That’s the difference between you and I, Katrina. You’re never satisfied, and me? I have everything I need.”

  Yes, I had everything I needed, and I definitely didn’t need more magic.

  I hoisted the double-sided ax in the air, spinning it so the blue-edged blade would come down first. I tore my gaze off of Katrina, slowly moving my foot off her bullet wound. For some reason, I didn’t want to watch. Watching just felt so…wrong.

  As the ax came down and met with her head, I didn’t even peek. Hearing the metal split her skull was more than enough to make me want to vomit, though—I instantly released the ax, turned away and bent over, dry heaving.

  Wash was by my side, holding onto me, careful not to touch the cut along my arm. Heck, I might’ve been so lightheaded because of the steady blood loss, too. That, the spell use. I mean, who could say? Tonight was just full of fun.

  “She’s…” Crane’s voice quieted. “Now, I don’t have my glasses, but I’m fairly certain she just vanished.”

  “She did,” Bones agreed.

  I whirled around, making myself dizzy for a few moments, needing to see it for myself. It was just as they said: she was gone. Katrina was gone, as was the old woman’s body she wore. It was as if nothing was there, like nothing had happened, although I did see her blood staining the grass below. The ax must’ve vanished the same moment she did, because I left that sucker right inside her split skull. Beside me, Wash’s hand moved to mine, his thick fingers intertwining with mine. Right now that hulking man was the only thing keeping me up.

  “Do you think she…” Even Bones couldn’t say it.

  “No,” Crane spoke, shaking his head. “No one can live through that, and we are reasonably certain that the blue side of Wash’s ax affects both spirits and humans simultaneously. There should be nothing left of her anywhere, except you.” Me, my looks.

  With my free hand, I swiped at my nose, smearing the blood that had seeped from it after breaking the bond between Wash and Katrina. “What if—”

  Bones didn’t let me finish the question, shoving the small gun in the waistband of his jeans before moving to me, wrapping an arm around me. Wash didn’t let go of me, but he did give Bones the room to hug me. “You’re nothing like her, you’ll never be like her.” He put me at arm’s length, gripping my shoulders tightly. “I grew up with you, Kat. If anyone around here knows you, it’s me.”

  Behind him, Crane scoffed. “Perhaps we should go home. That arms needs stitched up. I might have to put in my contacts to do it, but…”

  I drew my gaze from Bones to Crane. “You have contacts?” I sounded about as shocked as I would’ve if Santa Claus would’ve come down from the sky in his sleigh and told me the tooth fairy was real. For some reason, since he always wore his glasses, I never thought he had contacts. Because, you know, most people with contacts wore them every day, and wore their glasses sparingly, not vice versa.

  “Of course I do,” Crane remarked, sounding insulted. “I’m not a barbarian.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. I laughed even though I really just wanted to crawl into bed—any bed, I didn’t even care—and fall asleep. I was so tired, but at least it was over. Katrina was gone, and my guys, along with the town of Sleepy Hollow, was safe.

  We headed to the car, and Wash helped me walk. I glanced at the gun tucked in the crack of Bones’s ass. “Where’d you get that from, anyway?” Bones hurried to open the car door for me; truly, we were lucky it was so late, the square was empty, otherwise we would have a lot of explaining regarding the gunshot and the demonic horse.

  “It’s actually Crane’s,” Bones remarked, glancing at Crane with dimples on his cheeks. Crane headed around to the driver’s seat, and after Bones closed the door for me, he got in the front passenger’s seat. Wash crawled into the other side near me, pulling me onto his lap.

  “Crane has a gun, too?” I repeated, again, totally shocked. First contacts, now a gun. Did I know the man at all?

  “In Sleepy Hollow, you can never be too careful,” Crane said. He squinted his eyes. “Hold on.” He then looked to Bones beside him. “Why am I driving? I can hardly see.”

  Bones shrugged. “I don’t know. You just went that way, so…” He shrugged again, and I bit back more laughter. “We’re all just used to you driving, I guess. Switch.” And then, my ridiculous, ridiculous guys, switched seats by crawling over each other instead of getting out and walking around the car, like any normal adults would. “Hold on, my foot is stuck on the shifter…”

  As they fumbled with each other, trading places in the most inept, silliest way possible, I tilted my head up to Wash, grinning. It was dark out, so it was hard to tell, but I could’ve sworn for a split second there, Wash was smiling at their ridiculousness, too.

  Hell, even if he was
n’t, I still took a mental snapshot anyways. Crane was right. You could never be too careful these days. People be crazy.

  To beat them, sometimes you had to be crazy, too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I hummed as I looked through the shop’s counter. The blinds were drawn, so no one could see in. As far as anyone knew, Bernice just wasn’t opening her flower shop. Soon enough people would get worried and the cops would be notified, and by that time, the mail at her house would be so overflowing it would be obvious something either happened to her or she skipped town.

  Thanks to my tablet of shadows and a spell mimicking Katrina’s handwriting, it’ll look like the latter. Her business was losing money, and instead of trying to salvage it, she just ran away. It was closer to the truth than it was to lies, other than the whole running away part. Bernice’s shop was failing, though I bet if she’d been herself and not possessed with Katrina, she would’ve put more effort into the place.

  Wash had helped me, Bones, and Crane get into Bernice’s house without anyone seeing. Walking through the otherworld and appearing somewhere else in the real world was a handy skill. Wearing gloves, we snooped all we could. A part of me thought we’d find her hiding out somewhere, but by all accounts, she was really gone.

  Katrina Van Tassel was dead. This time, for real.

  We searched her house both to tie up her loose ends and to try and find my dad’s journal. The bitch had mentioned that she had it, so it was only a matter of time until we found it. I suggested doing a locator spell for it, but Crane told me no. He didn’t want me practicing magic more than I had to.

  I think, deep down, he feared that I would turn into Katrina, since we were cut from the same cloth. She was me and I was her. I could understand his reasoning, which was why I never pushed the subject. If I didn’t need to use magic, I didn’t use it. I wouldn’t become addicted to it or crave its power like Katrina did. No, a magic-free life was just fine.