The Book of Lost Souls

by Michelle Muto

  They sped down the highway heading farther away from town toward the deserted industrial park as the afternoon sun journeyed across the sky, the bright light of the afternoon giving way to the more muted glow of early evening.

  Ivy looked about the truck’s interior. “What do you keep in the glove compartment?” she asked Bane.

  “The usual. A flashlight and the owner’s manual. Why?” He looked up briefly into the rearview mirror at her.

  “We’ll need the flashlight. Anything else you carry in here?”

  “A tire iron in the back and some jumper cables,” he said.

  Ivy resumed reading and didn’t stop until they’d reached the textile mill, folding over pages of interest here and there. The ride got a bit bumpy as they made their way over the broken asphalt and gravel that had once been the entrance road. The pavement had buckled in some areas and had sunk in others, making large potholes that tested the truck’s suspension. She heard the scrape of tires against the wheel wells more than once.

  When the factory shut down, a chain link fence had been erected around the property as a deterrent for trespassers. A chain and lock had once been installed across the gate leading into the main entrance. Now, the heavy chain had been broken, and the gates were wide open. A pickup truck Ivy had seen before, but couldn’t place, was parked at the front door.

  “We’ve got company,” Bane said, driving in and choosing to park a short distance from the other vehicle. “It looks familiar. I just can’t remember where I’ve seen it.”

  They all got out of the Suburban, everyone taking care to quietly close their doors—except Spike.

  “What?” he asked, taking in everyone’s stares.

  “Nothing,” Ivy replied.

  “I take it we’re bringing Mr. Evans?” Raven asked.

  “Well, it’s cruel to leave animals in the car,” Spike retorted.

  Bane popped the cargo door open.

  “Don’t worry Spike. He’s going with us,” Ivy replied.

  Bane hauled the semi-conscious Mr. Evans over his shoulder like a trussed pig, hands and feet still bound with the remnants from the sheets. Ivy rummaged through the cargo storage and stuffed the jumper cables into her book bag, leaving the top unzipped. Raven handed the tire iron to Spike and the flashlight to Ivy.

  “Thanks.” Ivy wedged the flashlight down next to The Rise of the Dark Curse.

  Ivy slid the book bag over her shoulder. “Well, this is it, guys. Shayde and Devlin are here somewhere.”

  “Let’s do it.” Bane set off ahead of them.

  Half of the thick boarding covering the mill’s front entrance had been ripped away. It reminded Ivy of the doorframe on Mr. Evans’s house. The metal doors leading to the lobby were rusted shut, but entering would be easy—the plywood that had been installed over the door and the glass behind the plywood had been shattered as though with great force. Or a spell.

  Ivy stepped through first, mindful of her surroundings. The roof had collapsed in several places and huge sections of roofing material hung down. The steel rails on the second floor walkway had disintegrated. Old, rotting office furniture sat in heaps, smelling of mold and cat urine. A rat scurried behind a dilapidated copier. What walls remained upright were crumbling or bloated with black decay. Beyond that, only darkness.

  They were all inside now, listening and alert. The sounds of their shuffling feet echoed faintly. Mr. Evans groaned and Spike bonked him on the head with the tire iron, and he went limp once more.

  The murmur of water dripping from an unknown source resonated in the blackness. Something metallic clunked audibly. Everyone stiffened and listened.

  “Rats?” Spike inquired in a whisper. No one answered him. It was a rat, all right. Two legged or four was the real question.

  Ivy moved onward, prepared to strike if necessary. She heard more scuffling and as she approached an open doorway. Inside were gloomy shadows—one in distinct human form.

  Ivy drew a steady breath, ready to blast whoever stood there into oblivion with a spell she’d read from The Rise of the Dark Curse. But, it was better to be sure who it was first. It could be Shayde.

  “Retrieve flashlight—on,” she whispered. The flashlight flew from her book bag, hovering a few feet over her head and switched on, illuminating the person lurking in the shadows.

  “Nick!” Ivy shouted in surprise.

  Nick exhaled sharply.

  “What are you doing here?” Ivy asked.

  “Good to see you too, Ivy,” Nick said.

  “How did you know we were here?” Raven asked.

  “Gareth,” Nick explained. “My uncle had a large catering order down the street from Ivy’s house. And, well, after today, I wanted to stop and have a face-to-face talk with Ivy. Hey, I’m sorry to hear about Shayde and Devlin. I thought I could help.”

  The flashlight switched off and returned to Ivy’s book bag. Her happiness to see Nick was overwhelming. She hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, although somewhat tentatively.

  Ivy would have given almost anything not to detect the change in Nick’s attitude toward her. He might be here to help, but his awkwardness in returning her enthusiasm clearly meant anything between them was over. The blame was all hers. It was too easy to remember the hurt in his eyes when she had basically accused him of playing her in the woods and stealing The Rise of the Dark Curse.

  She straightened, feeling the uncomfortable moment shift to Raven, Bane, and Spike as well. She cleared her throat softly. “Well, thanks. We could use the help. I won’t be the only spell caster.”

  Nick nodded. “That’s what I thought.” His attention focused on Bane. “Who’s that?”

  “Mr. Evans,” Raven said, matter-of-factly. “We kidnapped him.”

  “Mr. Evans?” Nick repeated incredulously. He scrubbed his face with both hands. “You thought bringing the one person who started this to begin with was a bright idea? He’s just one more for their side!”

  And, some things with Nick never changed. Once again, they were at odds about how to deal with all of this. “That’s why he’s tied up,” Ivy said. “And we couldn’t leave him, he said he’d call the police as soon as we left.”

  Nick stepped out of the shadows and into the other room where there was more light. “I’m afraid to ask why he was going to call the police.”

  “Then don’t!” Ivy hissed. She was becoming impatient, agitated. It was The Rise of the Dark Curse—probably. Thinking of it sitting in her book bag, saying or thinking or whatever the book was doing should have made skin crawl. Instead, it was almost...comforting.

  “Okay, lovebirds,” Raven said. “This isn’t helping us find Shayde or Devlin.”

  “Who’s truck is that outside?” Bane asked.

  “My uncle’s,” Nick said. “Good thing I had it for the delivery, too. Ground outside was too rough for the Mustang. Well, let’s get rolling. We’ve got enough people to split up and search for them.”

  “Split up? Are you nuts? We’re stronger as a team,” Ivy said.

  Nick closed his eyes and took a breath. “Listen, okay? We’ll all stay real close, but not too close. Demons are good at hiding in the shadows. Raven can stay with Spike. Bane should change into wolf. He’s far more agile and stealthy that way. Not to mention his teeth might come in handy. Leave Mr. Evans tied up and gagged under a table in the lunch room down the hall.”

  “And what about me?” Ivy asked.

  “You enter the factory floor first,” Nick said. “You and The Rise of the Dark Curse are the distraction, the bait.”

  Ivy shook her head. “No way! We need to blindside them.”

  Bane stepped forward. “Nick’s got a good plan. They won’t know how many of us there are. And you’ve got the greatest attention getter of all—the book.”

  “Speaking of,” Nick said. “You’ll only pretend to have to book. “I’ll take it.”

  Ivy took a step backward. “I need it.”

  “Precisely why I don’t want
you with it,” Nick countered. “It’s done enough to you, don’t you think?”

  She blinked. “Are you saying that after all this you still want the book, or are you saying that you don’t trust me because of what I’ve done with it?”

  Nick didn’t answer. Great. It still came down to the book, one way or the other.

  Raven touched Ivy’s arm. “He wants to be sure you’ll remain on our side.”

  “They’ve got my friend and my dog in there! How can anyone think I’d do anything to jeopardize them?” Ivy didn’t dare look at anyone. It was true—she had done some not-so-nice things in the past and now the stakes and her emotions were higher. Who knew what The Rise of the Dark Curse might coax her into doing next.

  “It stays with me,” Ivy said. “I’m already under the book’s influence. No one else needs to be. Don’t look at me like that. I’m getting them back. I don’t care what it takes. I promise. If anyone starts to thinks I’ve gone too far, I’ll hand it over then. Okay?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Then I’m good with Nick’s plan. But, no one moves until we see they’re safe.” Ivy readjusted the book bag. “Come on. We’ve been standing here for so long they probably already know we’re here.”

  Nick’s plan didn’t sound half bad, but Ivy wasn’t convinced he knew what he was doing. It was her dog, her friend. They weren’t his.

  When Bane reemerged as a wolf, Ivy had to admit he was definitely harder to spot in the dark. Other than when light hit his tawny eyes, he blended perfectly with the shadows.

  “Who’s dragging Mr. Evans?” Ivy asked.

  “Got him!” Raven grabbed Mr. Evans by his trussed ankles. His head smacked against the ground as she headed down the darkened hallway. Spike followed her.

  Ivy and Nick set off next. They walked down the hall, careful to be as quiet as possible. As it was, every noise seemed to amplify the farther they went into the dark heart of the building. Ivy glanced over her shoulder into the deserted corridor.

  Ivy could hear her own heartbeat as she walked out of the hallway and onto the factory floor. Light trickled in from the many holes in the roof high above them like dull spotlights. Sunset wasn’t too far off. She straightened and held her chin up. “I’m here,” she called out.

  Silence. It was as though the building itself had quieted, taking notice of the young girl who dared breach its core. A rat squeaked from somewhere on the metal grating above Ivy’s head.

  “I have the book,” Ivy called out.

  Vlad’s voice boomed from somewhere—everywhere. “Then come closer, my child.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Ivy stepped forward, her heart pounding. At first, she didn’t see Vlad—the dust filtering through the sunlit holes in the ceiling obscured her view. As her eyes adjusted, however, and as she walked further into massive room, she caught sight of him. Vlad sat at a long table that must have been moved from the cafeteria. On the table were skewers upon skewers of rats, some of them still wriggling. The Countess sat next to him. As Ivy approached, the Countess dabbed at the sides of her mouth with a napkin.

  “So delightful of you to bring the book,” the Countess said. “Now, HAND IT OVER!”

  Vlad rose to his feet and placed a hand on her arm. “Manners, my sweet. Our guest has just arrived.” He picked up a skewered rat. “Have you eaten?”

  “Where are they?” Ivy demanded. It took everything she had not to step backward from Vlad’s outstretched hand and the impaled rat-kabob.

  Vlad waggled the rat and its lifeless tail swung limply. “Well, perhaps your friends are hungry.” He grinned. “Come now. You don’t think we know you brought friends? We heard you arrive.”

  Vlad took a seat. “Tell them to show themselves or we’ll commence with the pleasantries.”

  He tugged at a rope. There was a sliding, grating sound—metal against concrete as a large, wire crate came into view. Inside, was Devlin. He was wedged up against the far side of it, as far from Vlad as possible, trembling.

  “Devlin!” Ivy cried out.

  Devlin whined as Vlad reached under the table and retrieved a long, wooden stick. The end was sharply chiseled.

  “No!” Ivy cried out.

  “No!” echoed another voice. Spike stepped from his place in the shadows. Raven, Bane, and Nick emerged from their own darkened places.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Ivy pleaded. Never had she felt so scared, so helpless. “I’ve got the book. Release him and my friend and...and I’ll give it to you. Then we’ll all leave.”

  She didn’t want to think of what Vlad and the Countess might do when they discovered Mr. Evans didn’t have The Book of Lost Souls anymore.

  Vlad placed the spear on the table, although his hand never left it.

  The Countess let out a bark of laughter. “Leave? Whatever gave you the idea you could do such a thing? Why, your male friends look rather tasty, my sweet. Much better than rat. And you! You are like your wolf-girl friend—so young and vibrant! I’ll need your blood. And then I’ll need her blood.” She pointed to Raven. “I’ll save hers for last. A young vampire’s blood should surely bring me eternal beauty!”

  Raven came to stand near Ivy. “If you want me, then come get me.”

  “Yeah. You’re aging by the minute,” Spike said nervously.

  “SILENCE!” The Countess rose to her feet huffing so hard Ivy thought she might pass out. “I’ll not tolerate insults! Kill him, Vlad. I demand it! Impale him where he stands!”

  “In due time,” Vlad said, assuredly. “All in due time.”

  The Countess grew quiet, but her jaw remained set and her breathing was still shallow.

  “Where is she? Where’s Shayde?” Nick demanded.

  Vlad glanced around in exaggerated fashion. “Here. Somewhere.”

  Ivy straightened. “You’re not getting the book until we see her.”

  Vlad took hold of the skewer. He rolled it from one hand to the next. “You care to choose between your dog and your friend? Care to watch me run your precious pet through? Give me the book and I’ll open the cage door and free your pet. Refuse, and not only will I kill him and feed him to the rats, but Elizabeth shall still bathe in the blood of your friend, Shayde.”

  Ivy, Nick, and Raven exchanged glances.

  The Countess retrieved her mirror and looked into it, gasping. “A wrinkle! Enough of this! I need one of these girls’ blood.”

  “Blood?” Spike said, rather hoarsely. “How about something less severe? Have you tried hemorrhoid cream? Tara’s grandmother swears it reduces puffiness and fine—”

  “GAHHHHH!”

  The Countess grabbed a skewer from the table, and ran at Spike. Spike was just standing there, frozen. He must have thought his suggestion was helpful. The Countess clearly didn’t agree.

  Bane leaped, grabbing her dress in his teeth. The fabric ripped, but the Countess didn’t seem to care. Her face contorted, she tugged at the hem of her gown, the skewer still raised in the other.

  “Fragment!” Ivy commanded, aiming for the skewer in the Countess’s hand.

  The skewer splintered in half. The only problem was that it was still a weapon. Only shorter. Raven’s speed was amazing—in a mere blur, she had tackled Spike, getting him out of harm’s way. Spike had barely righted himself by the time Raven was back on her feet. In a series of flips and kicks, she managed to get several good shots to the Countess’s face.

  The Countess wiped a finger under her nose and came away with a small trickle of blood. Had she been anyone else—Regular or Kindred, she wouldn’t be standing.

  “You little bitch!” the Countess said.

  Vlad grabbed the spear from the table and turned toward the cage, spear held high. Devlin howled.

  “Devlin!” Ivy screamed.

  Nick aimed at Devlin’s cage. “Repel!” The cage shot back five feet, nearly toppling Devlin over.

  “Aduro inimicus!” Ivy shouted at Vlad. A feeling, something akin to a jolt of electricity ran through
Ivy. She’d used one of the spells in The Rise of the Dark Curse, one meant to incinerate someone to ash. She didn’t care. Vlad was nothing more than a conjured soul. He had tried to kill Devlin. For that alone, he had to die. She could hear the book agreeing with her, praising her for the spell she’d used.

  For a brief moment, flames engulfed Vlad. The fire rushed over him in one direction, incinerating his skin down to a bare skull. The flames retreated in the other direction before going out all at once. Bone regrew muscle and flesh in such a rapid rate that at first Ivy wasn’t sure she’d seen a skull there at all. Although the spear he’d held was gone, there was nothing more than soot on Vlad’s cloak. Ivy raised her hand again, trying to muster all the energy in her body for one more spell.

  Do it! Do it, little one! Show us that you love us! the book encouraged.

  “ADURO INIMICUS!”

  Again, the flames washed over Vlad, imploding and going out as soon as they changed direction. His flesh regenerated just as quickly as it had before.

  Vlad laughed heartily. “You can’t kill me. And without The Book of Lost Souls, you can’t banish me.”

  He moved toward her. “But I can kill you!” He grabbed another skewer, ripping the wriggling rat from it and hurling the animal into the wall.

  Ivy raised her hand as a shield, but Vlad threw the skewer past her.

  “Or, maybe one of your friends,” he said.

  Ivy and Nick turned as Raven dropped to the floor. She hadn’t seen it coming—she was far too intent on the Countess and her back had been turned. Bane raced over to her, whining and licking her face. Ivy ran to Raven’s side.

  Raven managed to raise her head. “Pull it out! Pull it out!”

  Ivy took hold of the wooden spear and tried not to think about what she was doing. She gave it a hard tug, pulling the stick from Raven’s back.

  Raven turned her head to Bane. “I’ll be fine. It didn’t go all the way through. Give me a minute.” She leaned back into Ivy. “Or maybe three.”