A Stitch on Time 5

by Yolanda Sfetsos

  “And what’s her message this time?”

  I looked past Roe and spotted Conrad stepping out of the shadowed corridor. He’d asked the question.

  “The message is always the same,” I said.

  “You should’ve killed her already,” he spat.

  “I’ve tried so many times, but these crazy bastards refuse to accept defeat.” I’d killed several Obscurus freaks, ruined Maya’s attempt at stealing my power so she could welcome the demonic entity Legion, and they still refused to give up. If anything, the remaining members seemed to be more persistent. Mace had morphed into a phantom, Maya continued to collect innocent souls, and the elusive Duff had helped turn Papan’s brother into a crazed werewolf.

  But I wasn’t about to abandon the it’s me or them frame of mind. If I did, I was sure no one I cared about would survive. The blood on my hands didn’t bother me as much as it used to. Not when it was the blood of monsters, and necessary to protect the lives of those I loved.

  Besides, after obliterating an entire demonic patch full of shadows, dishing out justice against evil becomes a little easier to deal with.

  “I’m going to hunt her down.” Conrad’s eyes were red and puffy.

  I looked at Roe. “Do you mind giving us a minute?”

  “Of course,” he said, glancing at my tattoo before heading back into the corridor leading back to the foyer.

  “If you’re going to try and talk me out of it, forget it!”

  “Conrad, that’s not why I wanted to speak to you,” I said. “I would actually appreciate any help you can offer in hunting that bitch down. And if you want to be the one who delivers the death strike, I’d love to help you with that too.”

  He nodded, red-rimmed gaze stuck on mine.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I spoke to Ebony before Maya took her—”

  “She took her soul, didn’t she?”

  It was my turn to nod. “But listen, before she was taken she told me that she remembered you. She remembered everything.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re not making this up to make me feel better, are you?”

  “I don’t play callous games. I rarely relay information back to anyone if I can help it. What I’m telling you now is true.” I sucked in a quick breath. I could feel his pain from here and my next admission might make his heartbreak worse, but he needed to know. “She said she loved you.”

  “I hope you’re not toying with me, Ghost Girl.”

  “I swear to you, that’s what she said.”

  Conrad was quiet for so long I decided to head back to the others, but as I was about to pass him, he stepped in front of me.

  “Thank you,” he said. When he took my left hand and squeezed it, I looked down in time to catch the Strophalos symbol flashing pink on the back of his. He didn’t seem to notice, but then, no one did. I was going around marking people with this symbol and even after reading Grandma’s journal, I still didn’t know why.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  He released my hand and I continued on my way.

  “I’m sorry, Rad, I couldn’t find her,” Narelle said behind me.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure Sierra will.”

  “You look a bit happier. What changed?”

  I continued down the dark corridor, but heard Conrad say, “She actually loved me.”

  When I stepped into the foyer and spotted the person standing near Roe, I hesitated. I was tempted to step back into the darkened corridor, but he’d already spotted me.

  Constable Gareth Crewe offered a weak smile. The last time we’d seen each other, my friend and demon hunter, Lavie Grye, and I exorcised a demon from him. I’d spoken to Gareth on the phone a few times since, but had been trying to avoid him. It looked like he was either the first cop on the scene or Roe called him. I was betting on the latter, since I’d handed out Gareth’s business card to my friends and colleagues. It was handy to know a cop who had experienced plenty of insane supernatural occurrences.

  I took a deep breath and ambled closer.

  “Hello Sierra,” Gareth said.

  “Hey.”

  “I called the constable so he could take our statements,” Roe said. “The girls told me how kind he was the last time.”

  “Good.” What else could I say? In spite of the crazy shit the demon had made Gareth do, I still trusted him to keep our business private.

  “Thanks for your statement, Mr. Spooker.” Gareth examined his small notebook. “I’ll have to speak to Claire and Jana too.”

  “Of course, take your time. We’re not going anywhere.” Roe stepped away and made his way towards the teenage spook catchers. He draped an arm around each of them and their sobs quieted. He’d practically adopted the girls, and was doing a great job teaching them the spook-catching ropes. If only my crap hadn’t caught up with them.

  “Hey, are you all right?” Gareth asked when we were alone.

  I shook my head and sucked down the sob sticking in my throat. My cheeks already felt stiff from the tears I’d shed.

  “I’m sorry about Ebony.” He glanced at her pale corpse. “I really don’t want to state the obvious or sound inconsiderate, but it looks like she was killed the same way as the girls in the alleys.”

  I nodded. “It was Maya.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” When I looked at him, his handsome face was blurred because the tears were getting harder to hold back. I wanted to stay strong and not lose it, but the longer I stood inside this house, the worse I felt.

  “Sierra, I’m…” He raised his free hand, reached for mine but dropped it before making contact.

  “I know.” The dam broke then, spilling so fast the weeping intensified until it wracked my whole body. I cried while Gareth stood in front of me, knowing he was hesitant to reach out after what the demon made him do. I hated the caution between us, the distance. We were friends and I wanted the damage the demon caused with his forced seduction to dissipate. So I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his middle. It took Gareth several seconds to react, but he eventually relaxed enough to wrap his arms around me.

  Even with his utility vest scratching at my cheek, his proximity made me feel enough at ease to let the tears fall as long as they had to. I didn’t want to accept that Ebony was gone, refused to glance at her dead shell.

  How many more people had to suffer at the hands of these despicable Obscurus freaks? They’d hurt too many already, and killing Ebony was the final straw. I was done trying to stay one step ahead with magical spells. The time of running was over—it was time to seek.

  As I cried the last of my tears and made this resolve, the back of my left hand burned. I slowly stepped out of Gareth’s embrace and peered at the tattoo, which was now outlined with pink neon, as if my new goal had set it off.

  “Do you feel better?” Gareth asked, touching the back of his hand to my cheek.

  I nodded. “Thanks for being there when I needed you.”

  “You know I’m here whenever you need me.” His hazel, thick-lashed eyes met mine and I knew that no matter what had happened last week, Gareth would always be a true friend.

  “Yes, I know.” I grabbed his hand and watched the pink outline appear on his skin.

  Now he’s really with you, a voice whispered inside my head.

  Gareth squeezed my hand before turning away to approach Roe and the two catchers.

  The compulsion to check my pocket itched at my skin and didn’t fade until I pulled a folded piece of paper out. It said one word in Saul’s usual scrawl: Sorry. The demon’s concern reminded me of what we were going to do as soon as I was done with this haunted house.

  While I was giving Gareth my statement, other police officers started showing up at the crime scene. Conrad and Narelle disappeared before they arrived, which was probab
ly a good thing since we were going to be on lockdown for several hours.

  I took the opportunity to mark Roe, Jana and Claire with my touch. It was starting to feel like I was building an army. Or some sort of resistance. For what, I wasn’t yet sure.

  Chapter Two

  I parked my whale of a car just outside the werewolf estate. Well away from the surrounding brick wall, and concealed with a shrouding incantation. I didn’t want anything to happen to my 1972 Ford ZF Fairlane.

  As I strolled along the grass, trying not to get my boot heels stuck, I checked both of my blades—silver dagger tucked into my right boot, moonstone boline strapped to my left thigh. I’d left the revolver and crossbow in the car because I wasn’t expecting any rabid wolves tonight.

  This reservation was well concealed in the town of Wilson, near the heart of the Blue Mountains. It had become peaceful since what happened on Monday night, when the crazed werewolf couple tried to destroy everything. Luckily, the pack had recently stopped using the grid as their main power source, and instead relied heavily on solar power. After noticing the blue and white sparks chasing me along the highway via the overhead cables, I really appreciated that fact. Hopefully, no access to the grid would keep the phantom and his phantasms out.

  Without the power lines, I was pretty sure Mace couldn’t reach me, but he’d find another way eventually. Phantoms and phantasms travelled across power lines and electrical charges, but the former weren’t limited to such transportation methods.

  A chill wove its way down my spine, causing me to stop for a second.

  I looked over my shoulder, both hands ready to grab my weapons if someone dared attack. But there was no one there. I was just jumpy.

  The stormy clouds and lightning didn’t help my nerves. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and knowing a thunderstorm might be headed our way made me anxious. The commute to Wilson took too long and the sun had disappeared completely behind the horizon. I was looking forward to daylight savings next week, when the days became longer.

  I quickened my steps and reached the clinic in minutes. I waved to the nurse at the reception desk and strolled past the other nine rooms, until I stood in front of the one I was becoming very familiar with.

  “Let’s do this,” I said as soon as I stepped inside.

  “Hey Sierra,” called a friendly voice.

  “Lavie, hey, what are you doing here?” Not that I was upset about her presence. I’d just assumed Saul would do this alone.

  She stepped around the bed and threw her arms around me, holding on so tightly that I felt the air rush out of my lungs. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Lavie murmured into my shoulder. “Eb was such a trooper.” She squeezed me before drawing out of the embrace. Her own eyes were red and puffy, like she’d shed plenty of tears already.

  It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “How did you find out?” I didn’t want to talk about what happened to Ebony. I’d cried on my way over, so the grief was too close to the surface. Just about anything would get the waterworks going.

  I swallowed it all down and sucked in a few shallow breaths, willing myself to be strong and stay focused. Or at least keep the tears at bay until I was back in my car.

  “Saul told me,” Lavie said. “He felt your pain.”

  I nodded and met the demon’s eyes from across the room. Of course he had.

  Saul felt my pain and sorrow because we were connected by the Hecate Ritual my grandmother performed when I was just a baby. I’d finally read all about it in her grimoire. The ritual wasn’t elaborate or even complicated and consisted of two overlapping circles—one salt for protection, the other grave dirt for summoning. Grandma used a blessed moonstone crystal to connect them, the correct colored candles, and the invocation to call on Hecate. Then the Goddess graced the offered infant. The hardest part had probably been sneaking me into North Serene Hills, the abandoned part of town, where a magical power grid was not only crisscrossed by countless ley lines, but also situated in the middle of a three-way crossroads.

  My grandmother had taken me to Hecate’s domain to protect and empower our familial legacy. According to Grandma, she never caught a glimpse of the Goddess herself but felt the world hum beneath her feet and sensed Hecate’s presence inside the circle. I was offered as one of Hecate’s children and the Deity provided her most loyal demonic servant—Seere, also known as Seir and Sear. I knew him as Saul Sear.

  This was why I was connected to a white demon I’d met less than a week ago. Having someone practically read my every feeling made me uncomfortable, but for the most part, Saul didn’t interfere.

  “Sierra, are you going to be all right to do this?” Lavie rubbed my arms.

  I nodded, though the tears I wiped away with the back of my hand contradicted my words. Where had they come from? I thought I’d swallowed them down. The kindness of others and their condolences would no doubt make everything worse. Losing a friend to death wasn’t something I could erase, no matter what I’d promised Ebony. Coping with her loss would hopefully get easier with time, but the pain would never fade. I still mourned Benita more than I should, but Ebony was too fresh.

  Don’t lose it now, I told myself over and over again. She’s not truly dead yet.

  If I focused on that one point, I might be able to concentrate enough to save Papan.

  I stopped my rampant thoughts, patted Lavie’s hand, and slowly made my way around to the other side of the bed, never taking my eyes off Papan’s gaunt features. He looked even paler than when I left less then twenty-four hours ago. The beeping of the machines keeping him alive had become the soundtrack to my visits. I hadn’t left his side for days, refusing to budge. It wasn’t until Saul pointed out I was starting to smell that I finally headed home.

  Instead of sleeping, I’d showered and then dragged Willow with me to tackle the long list of outstanding cases on my desk. Rest was something I could do another time—once Papan was conscious and walking around.

  “Hey Papan,” I said, running my hand over his longish blond hair and pushing the strands away from his cool forehead. He didn’t register my touch or presence. If I was completely honest with myself, I knew he was slipping away. According to the doctors, all of the silver and the hellhound gunk had completely left his system so I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t regained consciousness.

  I kissed his bristly cheek and whispered, “I hope you’re not angry about what we’re about to do.” I’d been determined to give him several days to recuperate on his own before doing the inevitable—a demonic blood transfusion. Saul was going to inject him with his own blood, and hopefully do what modern science hadn’t been able to. Though I was scared about what this could do to Papan’s wolf.

  “Sierra,” Saul said. “It’s time.”

  “Are you sure his body won’t reject it?” I asked, glaring at the demon.

  He shook his head, those shiny blue eyes glowing in the muted light. “It’s just blood.” He hadn’t gotten much rest either. He’d been wearing the same shirt and faded jeans for several days. Circles shadowed his eyes, his dark hair was a mess, and a beard covered his face, but I was grateful for his loyalty and care.

  “Demonic blood,” I corrected. “That’s not exactly a perfect match to his O negative, is it?” Being snarky wouldn’t help the situation, but I was feeling edgy and worried sick.

  “Demonic blood matches all blood types.”

  “So you’ve told me a thousand times.” I probably sounded like an ungrateful bitch, but Papan’s life was in the balance. Between my making this decision on his behalf and Saul’s willingness to pump his blood into him, we were playing God.

  “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  “Of course not!” This was our last option—our only option. “I just want to make sure it works.”

  “There’s no doubt it’ll work.” Saul motioned Lavie to his
side. “Let’s show her.”

  Lavie wandered over to the bedside table, where her backpack sat, and pulled out a machete. Saul extended his left forearm, holding out the underside and she slashed the blade across his skin, cutting a vertical line from elbow to wrist. Blood gushed out of the wound instantly.

  Thunder rumbled, too close for comfort.

  I swallowed down my nerves. “You’re not going to bleed out, are you?”

  “I’m touched by your concern.” Saul smiled, while Lavie shoved the machete back into her bag and pulled out what looked like a homemade clay bowl with inscriptions on the outside. She placed it on the edge of the bed, under Saul’s arm to collect the blood. It seemed to pour out faster than it should and reminded me of what Maya had done to feed her ritual circle.

  No, don’t go there.

  I sucked in a deep breath, tasting the metallic tang of Saul’s blood in the air. It made me feel a little heady.

  Lavie dipped an index finger into the clay bowl, stirring the contents before using the liquid to draw a circle on the white sheet draped over Papan’s chest and stomach. She did the same several times, bloody fingers going from the bowl to the sheet as she added more detail, including a pentacle inside the circle. She finished up by drawing a symbol I didn’t recognize in the middle of the star.

  “The protection is sealed,” she said.

  Saul nodded and extended his arm towards Lavie, raising it slightly. Without saying a word, she leaned forward and pressed the tip of her tongue against the wound she’d made on his arm. By the time she was done lapping the blood, the cut was gone.

  “I don’t even want to know what the hell just happened.” I was continually learning new things about how powerful my friend Lavie was. Our recent trip into a storm drain had opened my eyes to the fact, but this was just weird.

  “It’s nothing,” she said with a half shrug. “Demon hunters can heal demons with their saliva, and vice versa. No big deal.”

  Saul winked at me. “It’s not the only thing their saliva is good for.”

  “I didn’t need to hear that.”