The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch)

by Jack, Genevieve

  I whirled around to face Marcus, who had succeeded in exposing Amanda’s neck. With a warriors howl, I leaped toward him, my sword above my head.

  “Sorry, witch,” Marcus hissed. “Not this time.”

  Claws ripped me from the air and tossed me backward to the stones. What the fuck? I landed on my back. Four more vamps appeared out of nowhere and wrestled me to the ground. This was an ambush. This was meant for me!

  I watched Marcus sink teeth into the girl. Her scream sounded wet, like a gurgle. Blood was flowing down her trachea. She’d be dead in seconds. I tried with everything I had to help, but there was something on the vamps hands restraining me. My magic wouldn’t work.

  Marcus drained the girl, wiping the last of her blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t bother, Hecate. Helleborine root.” He licked his lips. “A little birdie told me it would temporarily render you powerless. Enjoy the show.”

  He easily overcame alien boy who wailed pitifully until he died. His squeals brought droves of the undead. There would be nothing left of either body by morning. The vamps would drink the blood, the zombies were partial to the internal organs, and the ghouls would eat the rest.

  Pain coursed through my body as the vamps tightened their hold on my struggling limbs. “Rick!” I screamed with everything I had, but it was too late. They’d staged the gathering at the chapel to distract him, and the teens were an all-too-convenient and unexpected way to lure me out. Their real goal was to kill me, and now they would.

  With human blood in his veins, Marcus was three hundred times stronger than normal, stronger than me and maybe even stronger than Rick. He strode toward me. In one graceful move, he straddled my chest and lowered himself to his knees. His razor-sharp fangs elongated near my chin.

  “Stop, Marcus. If you kill me, Rick will have your head.”

  “I think not, Hecate. With your blood strengthening me, I’ll have his. And you know the beauty of caretaker flesh is that it goes on forever.”

  With that, he bit the place where my neck met my right shoulder, and I heard the rush of my blood flowing down his throat before my flesh tore from my neck. As I died, I had one piece of magic left the Helleborine couldn’t restrain; it wasn’t tied to this body. I released my soul, allowing my light to escape through my open mouth. It blew west on the fall wind. The spell took me into town, inside the open window of the nearest woman of appropriate age. I fluttered to her abdomen, and then sank beneath her skin before the blackness swallowed me.

  My last thoughts were of Rick. I prayed for his safety.

  As I died in my memory, the book spat me out and I was back in the attic, gasping for breath and holding my neck. I collapsed to the floor.

  “Oh my,” Prudence said. “I suppose reliving one’s death would be a disturbing experience.” She took my pulse and propped my head in her lap.

  I met her eyes. “It was my mother. I saw the light enter my mother.”

  “I told you, you were very powerful.”

  “Marcus called me Hecate. A man attacked me tonight. He called me Hecate too,” I sputtered.

  “Sounds like a demon. I’m not sure a vampire could tell who you are. Not yet. But a demon might be able to smell it on you.”

  “But what does Hecate mean?

  “Hecate is an ancient name for the goddess of the dead. It’s fitting. You are a half-sister to the goddess herself.”

  I huffed. “Goddess? I just got comfortable with the title witch!”

  “A sorceress by any other name would be as powerful.” She laughed. “You called yourself the Monk’s Hill witch in your last life because you thought it had a ring to it, but truly Hecate would be more accurate.

  I sat up to see Prudence more clearly and crisscrossed my legs in front of me. I had so many questions, I didn’t know where to start. “What happened to Marcus after I died?”

  “Rick tried to kill him. They fought until dawn when Marcus was forced to retreat into the underworld. With your blood and that of the two humans giving him power, he’s become the leader of the vampire coven. The vampires haven’t found a way out of the cemetery yet, but Rick’s been working overtime to keep it that way.”

  “And without me, Rick is weaker?”

  “Yes. Not only has the world missed your talents for the last twenty-two years, every day that Rick goes without you as his partner becomes more difficult for him. If you did run into a demon tonight, that’s very bad news for the balance of things.”

  “But there could be another, right? If I say no, the part of me that is the witch will move to someone else.”

  She sighed. “Yes. When you die, the piece of you that is Hecate will be freed from your body and find another host. There has to be balance. But that would take a lifetime. And what about us? Do you know what will happen to Logan and me?”

  “Logan said that the next witch might be able to sort you, but the longer it took, the harder it would be.”

  “Death is the great forgetting. You as the Monk’s Hill witch sort the souls who are caught between life and death. You do so by remembering for us. You give us a name. You call us out and send us on. Every day that a soul isn’t sorted, that soul loses more memories of his or her life. Eventually, there aren’t enough clues left for you or any witch to name the dead. Logan has already forgotten. If you accepted your responsibility tomorrow, it might not be soon enough for him. And now that the magic you’ve given me is wearing off, I will forget too. I’ve been here two full years waiting for you. Logan’s only been here three weeks. Think how fast I will forget now that my purpose has been fulfilled.”

  Ever since I was a kid, I’d been a responsible person. I was the six-year-old who never forgot to feed the dog. I made my bed every morning. I always paid my bills, even if it meant giving up my home. I wanted to follow Michelle’s advice and not decide, but Prudence’s words made me realize that not choosing had severe consequences. This was my responsibility, my purpose. Whether or not I loved Rick, I owed it to Prudence to relieve her of her duty and I owed it to Logan to send him home. And I owed something to Marcus too—judgment.

  All anger had bled from Prudence’s expression and now she stroked my hair, the nurse in her coming out over all else. I thought I knew what the right thing to do was but I wasn’t ready to pull the Band-Aid off. It was all happening too fast. I needed more time.

  “Let me think about it,” I said.

  Chapter 19

  My Personal Crisis Intervention

  I had a roast in my kitchen, and it was well past dinnertime. No sense letting it go to waste. I’d think more clearly on a full stomach. After what I’d just experienced, I needed all of the clarity I could get.

  Logan moved the spread into the dining room and was waiting for me. I sat down at the head of the table, and he loaded a plate. Invisible as he was, the food floated onto the dish before the hovering plate lowered to the spot in front of me.

  “I’m sorry I was so hard on you earlier. This is great, Logan. Of all the ghosts I know, you are the best cook.”

  “I’m the only ghost you know.”

  “Not true. I know Prudence now. But regardless, of all the people I know, you are the best cook. Whoever you were in life, you could cook.”

  “I wish I knew if that were true,” Logan said.

  The comment made me wonder, if I decided against being the witch, would Logan eventually forget how to cook? Just thinking about it made me eat slower and savor every bite.

  “You’ve decided, haven’t you?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “But you’re considering it. You’re considering being with him.” A dark wave of smoke swirled through Logan, the jealousy rolling off him and filling the room with the scent of burnt toast.

  “Prudence made me see who I was before. I understand better now my responsibilities and my purpose here. I don’t like the idea of being with Rick right now. He lied to me and manipulated my memories to take advantage of me physically.”

&nb
sp; “Did he hurt you?” Logan fumed.

  “No. But he did enough, and although I consented, I did so without understanding how our connection was influencing me. I don’t know if I would have made the same choices without it.”

  “That bastard. I wouldn’t do that to you, Grateful.” Logan’s green eyes smoldered.

  “I know. You’ve always been completely honorable.”

  “So then, don’t do this.”

  “There’s no other way. I can’t let you stay in limbo forever. “

  “If you sort me, we’ll never see each other again. “

  Just thinking about Logan gone for good was a red-hot poker directly though the chest. My heart was skewered, roasting over the thought. I rubbed the ache and was happy for my nurse’s brain. It allowed me to see beyond the emotional pain to the logical argument. “If I remain human, I’ll eventually die, but you could be here for eternity.”

  “I don’t care. I’m willing.”

  “Until I die, another witch can’t replace me. Red Grove will become a very dangerous place.”

  He had no answer for that. His eyes closed against the words, squeezing them shut as if he could hide from the truth behind his nonexistent eyelids.

  “And finally, I don’t know how I feel about you, Logan. I haven’t known you long enough to know. And frankly, I think your feelings for me have more to do with who I was in my past life than either of us would like to admit. You can feel I’m the sorter. You’re drawn to my latent power. It may feel like more, but I’m not sure.”

  “But I am sure.”

  “How can you be when you don’t even know who you are?”

  He flashed against the wall, broke apart, and then came back together. “That was a low blow.”

  “I’m sorry. It needed to be said.”

  Time drifted by us as I finished my meal, gulping down the glass of cabernet he’d poured for me and thinking it was perfectly paired with the beef. I knew it was important that I eat every bite to show I appreciated the effort Logan put into it. The meal was perfect, but I’d hardly tasted it. I was too concerned about the feelings of the ghost who watched me eat it. Something in Logan was dying tonight, some hope of clinging to what remained of this life. I was sorry about what I would have to do to him. What I would have to do to save him.

  I crossed my fork and knife on my plate. “Everything was perfect. The food was the most delicious I’ve ever had.”

  Logan disappeared. A moment later, a romantic ballad crooned from the speakers in the family room. Unforgettable by Natalie Cole. The choice wasn’t lost on me. He reappeared next to my chair, so solid I would have guessed he was human if I hadn’t known better. I didn’t have to look at the clock to know it must be midnight.

  “Will you dance with me?” he asked, extending his arm. “For one dance, let’s pretend we both met when we had choices, when I was human, and you were carefree, and the world turned. Let’s dance like there was no magic, just two human beings and the music.”

  I remembered how I’d danced with Rick and the …results. The music was different and so was the man. I would give Logan this. We would dance, and we would always have this memory. I took his arm and stood, smiling as if I lived in the pretend world he wanted for us. I placed one arm on his hip, the warm tingle letting me know where his molecules began, and held his hand with my other. It was more difficult than I expected. I couldn’t lean into him like I might with a human dancer. But we swayed to the music, my arms growing sore from holding the position. I smiled, and he pretended, and then the song ended.

  I dropped my hands to my sides. Logan ran his fingers up my outer arms, the warm tingle making my hair stand on end. He leaned forward and the focused current of air that was his kiss brushed my lips. When I opened my eyes, the look he gave me said everything. He knew what my decision had to be as much as I did, but he hated it.

  “I should get some sleep,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Good night, Logan.”

  I was halfway up the stairs when I heard him say, “I love you,” toward my back. I pretended not to hear him.

  I never made it to the top. Just then the door burst open and Michelle entered the kitchen, her arms full of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

  “Grateful? Your garage door was open. I hope you don’t mind, I let myself—” Michelle stopped at the entrance to the dining room. She stared at Logan, and her jaw dropped.

  Logan was doing his best to appear normal. He focused his energy to look as solid as possible. I wasn’t sure how long the illusion would last.

  I jogged back down the stairs and placed myself between them. “Of course it’s okay,” I said, hugging her in such a way as to block her view of Logan. I spun her around toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get some bowls for the ice cream.”

  “Wait. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She pivoted toward Logan.

  Had she turned inward, toward me, I would have been able to stop her with my body. I would have made some excuse as to why the man I was with was suddenly gone. But Michelle rotated outward, away from me, making it almost impossible to maneuver in front of her. Logan dissolved at the precise moment she turned. If I had to guess, I’d say he took the opportunity of her facing the kitchen to make his escape and then couldn’t stop the process halfway. But it was also entirely possible that he ran out of energy. After all, he’d spent the entire evening making me dinner and holding his molecules together. This whole situation was more than stressful to the poor guy—I mean, ghost.

  Whatever happened, Logan went up in smoke right in front of Michelle.

  “Michelle, I—” My attempted explanation fell on deaf ears.

  Her mouth opened and a head-splitting scream sliced through the room. The ice cream toppled from her fingers. She scrambled for the door.

  “Michelle, stop!” I called, but she’d completely freaked. She spilled into the street before I could stop her. There was only one place to go from my house if you were following the road—across the bridge and straight to Rick’s.

  Unfortunately, it was after midnight, and Rick was working. At the top of the bridge, I could see what Michelle had already seen. Rick was standing in front of his house, completely naked. She stopped in the middle of the road like a deer in headlights.

  “Stop. Please,” he said. He held out a hand toward her.

  She shook her head and backed away from him. Unfortunately, that meant she was backing toward the graveyard.

  “Michelle, stop. I can explain,” I called. I jogged toward her with my hands out.

  It was no use. She was in full-blown panic mode. I wasn’t even sure she could hear me.

  “What’s going on?” she said in a shaky voice.

  I started to answer her, but was distracted by the fog rolling in behind the gate. Fingers of thick, black mist filtered through the hedges, licking at the bars of the fence. If Michelle got any closer, it would reach her.

  “Michelle, move away from the gate,” I said, voice trembling. I gestured with my hand for her to come to me.

  Rick took a step forward.

  She didn’t move. “No. Tell me what’s going on.” She stepped backward.

  The fog stretched for her.

  “Please, trust me. Take a step toward me,” I said. I wasn’t sure what the fog was exactly, only that it was making Rick’s skin bubble under the surface. His beast knew it was evil. Plus, nothing good came out of the hellmouth at night.

  She did not move.

  Rick glanced at me, and his thoughts were as clear as if he’d whispered in my ear. He wanted permission to take her by force.

  I nodded. It had to be done, and I knew how fast he could move when he wanted.

  Michelle’s screams broke our connection. She’d gotten too close. Tendrils of fog had wrapped themselves around her waist and were sliding her up the wrought iron spindles to the top of the gate. Rick was there in an instant. He wasn’t fast enough. Michelle’s legs followed her body ov
er the top. She disappeared behind the hedges.

  I started forward, but Rick’s hand shot out. “No, Grateful. You’re not equipped for this. It will be of no use if they have you too. I will get her.”

  I couldn’t argue with the logic.

  His skin bubbled, violently. The smell that always clung to Rick—pine, holy water, and earth—grew stronger, surrounding me, filling me. I realized now what the scent was. It was the smell of a fresh grave. I watched his bones grow, bend, and reshape his body. His chin extended as he folded to the earth, his ears growing to a point on each side of his head. Claws sprouted from his knuckles. Scales and fur budded from his skin and over his backbone, which extended into a tail. Rick transformed into a monster, both reptilian and wolf-like. Two iridescent stretches of flesh unfolded from his back. Wings.

  The beast ran a few steps and took to the air.

  Through the bars of the gate, I watched the fog channel itself into three forms. The redheaded vamp I’d seen my first night in the cemetery fleshed out and grinned at me, licking his lips. A vamp I’d never seen before, huge and bald like the strong man at the circus, formed next. But when the fog that held Michelle formed into muscled flesh with a black ponytail, my stomach twisted. It was Marcus.

  In my head I heard his voice. Come, girl. Come over the fence and we’ll play a game. It’ll be fun. He didn’t recognize me. I guess that was the benefit of having a brand-new body.

  I backed away from the gate.

  Marcus frowned and narrowed his eyes. Rick swooped into the cemetery. The vamps scattered. Red-hair wasn’t fast enough and Rick’s beast flipped him into his mouth, sinking teeth through his abdomen. The sound of bones crunching made me gag, and blood sprayed across the pebble pathway. I swallowed rapidly, trying to keep my dinner down.

  Marcus ducked behind a monolith, dragging Michelle with him. I was somewhat relieved to see that she’d passed out; at least she wasn’t panicking anymore. Now, the only one panicking was me. I looked back toward the strongman and watched him break off a piece of a marble headstone. He hurled the sharp shard of stone at Rick.