Death by Séance

by Jo-Ann Carson

  “But, you wanted her.”

  He held me tighter. “We both wanted her.” Gently he pulled his hand through my hair. “Äskling, I am so sorry this happened to you.”

  “To us.”

  We stood there holding one another. I felt more than comfort in his arms. I felt loved, truly loved. But at what cost? What had he done?

  “Eric?”

  “Not now.” He lowered his head and kissed me. His lips soft; his tongue intimate. It felt so damn right. What we had was beyond question, beyond time, beyond dimensions. Love transcends all.

  He pulled me to the bed and folded me into his arms. We lay entwined for hours. Physically exhausted from everything, I wanted to lie there forever. And ever and ever. Nothing much else made sense.

  The light of the moon leaked through the curtains, calling me. I couldn’t put off reality forever. “Eric, tell me about the deal.”

  Lightly he kissed my forehead. “It’s done.”

  “You are immortal?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are the slave-assassin of an evil warlock.”

  He exhaled noisily.

  “Eric.”

  “Not completely.”

  I pushed back from his massive chest, so I could watch his eyes. Moonlight flickered across his sky-blue eyes. “What the hell does that mean?

  “It means I can refuse some assignments.”

  “But not all.”

  “The important thing is, I can say no.”

  “Negotiate murder? Play with death? Listen to yourself, Eric.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “You did. I told you, if you chose to become Guiden’s assassin we would be over. You chose him over me.”

  “What else could I do?”

  “You sold out.”

  “I got the best terms I could. I did this for us.”

  “No way. You did this for you.” I pushed him away and sat up, my cheeks wet with tears. “I needed your support and you did this.”

  “Abby, settle down. You’re not thinking straight.”

  I stood up.

  “You’re feeling emotional because of the baby. It’s a woman thing. Give us time. You’ll get used to me being alive. We will make love again.”

  “Yeah, you’ll be alive, alive as an inter-dimensional assassin. I don’t sleep with murderers.” I got up and pulled on my jacket. “And don’t talk to me about hormones.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Joy is still missing. Kumar’s murderer is still loose. I have work to do.”

  “Tell me exactly where you’re going.” He raised his body up on his elbow.

  “I have a gut feeling I know who’s behind it all.” And it’s not pretty.

  He rose to join me.

  “No, I’ll handle this alone.” Because I am alone.

  Chapter 21

  My Hunch

  “And now … let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.”

  Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

  As I drove away from the hotel I berated myself. Why would I set out to chase a murderer on my own when I could have a Viking warrior at my side? It made no practical sense, but my gut said it was the right thing to do. Call it a witchy sense of things, or pure stubborn pride … Hell, I could call it many things. It didn’t matter. That voice deep inside me said no to Eric. I love him, but no. No way. At least not for now.

  I slipped into Graystone manor, snuck up to my bedroom and got the locket out of the safe. I needed to get to the bottom of things and this one clue lay at the center of the mystery.

  There had to be a reason Kumar died with it in his hand and that reason could expose the murderer. I stared at it. The size of a silver dollar, it could hide easily beneath a man’s shirt or a woman’s dress. The compelling compass design on the front shimmered with old magic. Who at the table would have a magical locket? What was its purpose?

  That’s a dumb question in Sunset Cove.

  Using an old spell from my grimoire I managed to open the locket. Inside I found a lock of blond hair. Nothing else. Whose hair was it? I had no idea. Maximo claimed the locket belonged to Elif’s sire. Perhaps the hair was his. I took out my mighty detective magnifying glass, a gift from Joy last Christmas, and looked closely at the engraving on the front. Nothing came to mind, except my hunch was that Elif was the murderer.

  Did Kumar have the locket because Elif gave it to him. Was it a lover’s gift? A good luck charm? Did it have power? I didn’t know.

  Did Kumar grab it as Elif plunged the knife into his neck? Possibly. Could anyone act as fast as a vamp?

  A cold shiver shimmied up my spine the kind that told me I was on the right track. Damn. I really didn’t want it to be Elif.

  Staring at the locket, I summoned up my witch powers. “I call on the energy of the earth, from the north, the south, the east and the west. I call on creation to spell this locket with a truth-telling charm.” The air chilled. Energy swirled around me. “When a person holds this locket,” I continued, “he must tell the truth. If he does not, it will burn his hand.” It wasn’t a fancy spell, but it would do.? I had relied on my human and witch senses when I interviewed the suspects, but they could falter. This spell would not.

  I checked on the kids before I left. Jonathon was asleep with his tablet in his hands. Not a good sign. What is it with kids and electronic games? It’s like a drug addiction. What a crummy mother am I, to let him have one in his bedroom.

  I stopped my self-ridicule. Joy, I reminded myself. I needed to stay focused. In the next room, Jane had her thumb in her mouth, so I pulled it out and tucked her in. Jinx had snuck into her bed and snored by her side.

  I tip-toed past Jill, sleeping with her bottle of wine on the sofa. Break-ups suck. Would I be drinking with her soon? Probably. Eric was now lost to me. I couldn’t reverse Guiden’s black magic, and I doubted we’d find anyone who could.

  I headed out to find the murderer. And hopefully Joy. In all the mysteries I’d read the detective figured everything out. Like in a game of pick-up-sticks, the sleuth would pull at the details of the case one at a time until he exposed the villain. Clues were neat and easily found. Suspects could be sorted with little difficulty. But that only happens in books and movies. In my world none of the pieces had been easy to figure out. In my world I had worked my ass off studying the details, and in the end relied on my gut.

  Didn’t the noir detectives trust their guts? I thought so.

  Beating myself up wasn’t doing any good. I grabbed my leather jacket and car keys and headed out the front door. The worst-case scenario: I would be wrong and make a fool of myself.

  “No,” said Spark, who had been unusually quiet. “The worst-case scenario is you would get us both killed.”

  That was when I decided to drug her.

  Haunted houses no longer scared me. Over the last two years I’ve grown used to groaning walls, slamming doors and eccentric ghosts. They all came with a heavy side of cobwebs. But vampire houses were another matter. Just the thought of venturing into one made the hair on the nape of my neck stand at attention. Ghosts rattle chains and move stuff around. I could tolerate their quirky talents. But blood-sucking night creatures were another matter. They don’t scare people for fun. They suck them dry for sustenance. While their deadpan sense of humor, fashion sense and heightened sexuality beguiled Joy, they left me cold. I didn’t, really didn’t, want to intrude into the home ground of another vampire, but I had no choice.

  None.

  Elif lived in a grand stone house, complete with a tower and high fences, a mansion with castle features, built in the 1920s by a robber baron flexing his ego. It sat on high ground on a five-acre rural property. Heavy on the rural. As I followed my GPS I drove through the town, through the outskirts, through an old-growth forest of cedar and fir trees and then found his driveway. While Elif seemed more sociable than any other vampire I had met, he still chose to coffin in a r
emote location.

  Remote. I swirled the word around in my head. I could turn back. No one would fault me. It would be the sane thing to do, but I’m not big on sanity and Kumar didn’t deserve to die.

  The front door was made of steel, but I found it unlocked. Of course. That made sense. No sane person would break into the lair of the famous vampire in town. I swallowed hard as I pushed it open. Inside the air was stale, tinged with the smell of blood and death. No surprise there. It felt denser than normal air, filled with fear and the darkest of despair. How many victims had died here? I stepped onto the polished floor.

  They say vampires can hear the sound of a speck of dust falling through the air, so I took off my shoes and tiptoed further into his home with my path illuminated by my trusty detective flashlight. I headed for the living area, a large room to the right of the entrance, the place his coven gathered, the center of his power.

  Wouldn’t his coffin be his power point? I froze for a second to think about that, and the image of opening his death bed chilled me to the bone. I shook myself. Examining his corpse, was off my to-do list. Definitely off. I was determined but not stupid. I strode towards the massive stone fireplace that graced the room. It really didn’t matter where I started to search. I had to start. I needed more clues.

  I turned off my flashlight. In light of the full moon that filtered through the window blinds I could make out shadows of the furniture in front of me and managed not to smack into the chairs and couch. But a footstool escaped my attention and I tripped, let out a scream that would raise the dead, and belly-flopped onto the plush, two-inch-thick oriental rug on the other side. Grace was never my thing.

  How many vamps had heard me?

  “It only takes one.” In the darkness, Elif’s unmistakable deep baritone sounded even more sinister than usual.

  “One for what?” I’ve never been good at witty repartee, but I try.

  “One breather to ruin a good sleep.”

  “Sorry about that. I was trying not to bother you.”

  “Clearly.” He folded his long arms across his well-sculpted chest and smirked. “My security alarm sounded the moment your car crossed onto my property.”

  My heart raced, and I knew he knew it raced, and I knew he knew I knew it raced, which only made it race faster. Damn him and his lot. “I wanted to be here while you were still up.”

  “Interesting.” He offered me a hand. “Dear Abby, that makes no sense at all, and you are one of the most sensible people I know.”

  “Witch.” I shook my head to the hand.

  “There is that. Still, I find it hard to believe you think you can fool me. I’ve been around the block, to the rodeo, bought the tee-shirt and drank the prophet. You, my dear witch, are up to no good.”

  As he spoke I pulled myself up to a standing position. He might be a ghoulish foot taller than me and have powers beyond my control, but I didn’t have to die on my knees.

  “I may lack grace.” I said.

  He laughed.

  “But I am here to see you.”

  In a flash he went to the light switch and the wonder of electricity flooded the room. I glanced around to suss out the situation and found it even more terrifying than I had imagined. It looked staged, as if a Hollywood crew for a horror flick had come in and set up a sterile living room for a blood-sucking prince, on top of an arena of death and dying. Velvet, mahogany, crystal … all the trappings of wealth adorned the space, but the smell of blood lingered, flowing over all the artifacts like a fog of death. A chill ran up my spine.

  His eyes narrowed as he watched my response. “Would you like a tour of my home? I think you would find my bedroom most interesting. I have a good collection of toys.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  His right brow rose. “Has Joy not told you of our blood play? We have so much fun, she and I. But you.” He made a sound like a panther purring. “You are more mature, more …”

  Spark strode into the room, hissing. I had hexed her, drugged her and locked her in the manor, but that hadn’t stopped her from finding me. For a moment, my heart leaped with hope and fear.

  Elif picked her up by the scruff of her neck and stared at her, eyeballs to eyeballs. Spark hissed and spat. The vampire licked his lips. “I do not like the taste of lynx, but I could adjust to it.” He threw her into the air and her body crashed against the far wall ten yards away.

  I screamed. “Don’t.”

  “Your familiar will survive,” he said. His eyes narrowed. “But for now, she can’t magnify your power.”

  Spark made no sound. Not a muscle in her body moved. She was out cold. A concussion? I hoped it was a concussion.

  “So, tell me, Abby, if you’re not interested in sex or my blood, why are you here?”

  His eyes darkened, and, for a brief second, I could see my death in them. How stupid could I be to come here on my own. How stupid, There were deaths worse than death itself and that, I feared, waited for me. What would happen to my children? I exhaled noisily. “You lied to me.”

  His lips thinned and angled into a gruesome smile.

  “Maximo didn’t kill Kumar,” I said.

  He floated towards me and stopped a foot from my face. “Really? Do tell.”

  “And, you know it.”

  His smile tugged on one side as if it wanted to slide right off his white face. “There is only one way I could know that.” He reached towards me and pulled a tendril of my hair away from my eyes. As his cold fingers grazed my skin my chest constricted. His touch was more terrifying than his dark eyes, white skin and gravelly voice. He was death personified. Death and dying and evil.

  I swallowed. “You killed Kumar.”

  He chuckled. “Killing is second nature for me. I have killed many and I will kill many more. What you say makes no sense. Why would I kill Kumar? He was my friend. My lover. And why would I knife him publicly? I wouldn’t get to taste his blood. Your theory doesn’t work. You haven’t thought this through.”

  “Oh yes, I have.”

  “Tell me then.” His pupils dilated until his whole eyes were black and I could feel his vamp charm pulling on me. For a full millisecond I was happy to be a witch and immune to his powers. Then I remembered, witch or not, I was in deep trouble.

  “You can’t charm me, you blood-sucking monster.”

  He laughed. “I love your sense of humor. It makes you more …” He hesitated, loving the drama of his own words, “… more seductive.”

  “Cut the crap. I know you did it. I just don’t know why.”

  “Come upstairs with me and I will tell you anything you want to know.”

  “I am taken.”

  “By a ghost. A Viking ghost who couldn’t make it to Valhalla? Seriously woman, you need …”

  “A real man. I’ve been telling her that for months.” Dante’s voice with its slight Italian accent flowed through the room. He strode through the door as if he owned the place and came to my side.

  Elif looked at Dante and then at me. He laughed. “Do you really think two witches can take down a vampire?”

  The smile on his face vanished as he picked up Dante by the neck, with the same ease as he had lifted Spark.

  As Dante’s body rose in the air, his arm lashed out with a wooden knife, piercing the vampire in the chest.

  Elif stumbled, let go of Dante and pulled on the knife. It hadn’t reached his stilled heart. I looked at Dante.

  “Run,” he yelled.

  I turned and ran right straight into three vampires. The ones I called Larry, Joe and Moe, but who had long names from former centuries that I found difficult to pronounce and impossible to remember. Larry clamped his hands on my arms. Joe did the same to Dante. Moe asked Elif, “Did you order dinner in?”

  “Their blood smells off,” said Joe, wrinkling his nose.

  “They’re witches.”

  “Ew,” said Joe.

  “I’ve never drunk a witch,” said Larry, who leaned in to sniff my
neck. His fangs grazed my skin. “Mmm, exotic.”

  “She’s mine,” said Elif.

  Larry dropped me to my feet but kept his hand around my neck.

  Joe shook Dante. “He doesn’t seem scary. Can we play with him?”

  As he said the word scary, Dante chanted and the lighter objects in the room rose into the air and flew in a circle.

  Joe, fangs out, dropped him and punched him in the face. Dante crumpled to the floor. “They’re more annoying than mosquitoes,” said Joe.

  The objects fell to the ground.

  I tried to use my witchy powers, but nothing moved. My fear muted my power and, without Spark to magnify it, I was impotent. I raised my hand to shoot a bolt of energy, but Elif grabbed it.

  “I do not like being bothered in my home, but I am not your villain. You can’t have any proof to support your claim.”

  I pulled the locket from my jacket and held it out to him as if it were a crucifix.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “The teahouse. Is it yours?”

  In less than a heartbeat, he stood in front of me and grabbed the necklace from my hand. “Interesting,” he said.

  “Is it yours?”

  He traced the compass design with his finger. “It feels different.”

  “So, it is yours.”

  “Yes.” He opened it and touched the locket of hair hidden within it. “And this belongs to my sire. It is a keepsake.”

  The tone of his voice made me think the locket was more. “Did you kill Kumar.”

  “No.” As he spoke the locket went red with heat and Elif dropped it, cussing.

  “The locket says you’re lying. You killed him.”

  Angry vampire eyes locked with mine. “What have you done, witch?”

  “I now have all the proof I need. I spelled your locket with a truth curse. If you lie it burns. And you lied. You murdered Kumar.

  After a moment of staring, he shrugged. “You are overreacting. I am not the fiend you think I am.”