“That was foolish,” Finn said from right behind me.
This time, it was my eye that twitched. Of course it did, he wasn’t my friend, my trainer, my anything. He didn’t get to comment on my actions.
I didn’t answer, but he didn’t need me to reply. He was fine with lecturing me without encouragement. There was a part of me who got that he was like…25 to my 18, but there was also a part of me who wanted to point out that he wasn’t that much older and that he might be all fancy when it came to necromancy, but I had never, ever pretended that necromancy was my interest.
Gods and monsters, why was I letting him distract me?
“You burned through your magic before…”
But I walked away.
Didn’t he feel that?
It wasn’t the coolness of a ghost, though now that I focused, I could feel that too.
It was more than that.
It was what…oh gods, it was the same feeling I had felt when Chrysie’s ghost had shown up right after she’d died. It was fear and the desire to run. Run, run, run. Flee. It was the need to gasp for breath—not because of the run—but because of horror. And then the chill hit me.
“You might have a natural talent,” Finn started, his voice irritated, “but even the best of us need to conserve our power to deal with ghosts.”
But I turned and said, “Someone’s dead, you idiot.”
The look he gave me told me that I was the idiot.
“Newly dead,” I clarified. “Newly dead and body still around, dead.”
He stopped and paid attention to the senses he’d been ignoring to lecture me, and I could see he felt nothing. Someone had died here. Recently. “Do you think the ghost pushed them to it?”
The look he gave me was another silent pronouncement that I was stupid.
We walked forward together, and I drew up a light in my palm. He tossed me an annoyed glance, but I was not going to trip over a dead body in the dark and put my DNA all over it. Oh sweet merciful Hecate, I had witnesses. So many witnesses to where I’d been.
Yes!
I was not going to be a suspect. Not one little bit. Yes! And yes again!
I had been down the murder suspect road, and it was one I didn’t want to travel again. Look at me stalling. I could see that red all-star shoe and knew I’d never be wearing mine again.
Finn was already leaning over the body. Probably checking for a pulse, but any witch with our extra senses could tell you that this girl was dead. And she was a girl. I had to see if I knew her. I didn’t want it on my conscious if I did and I didn’t give her respect of looking her in the face and regretting her death.
“She’s gone,” Finn said. “Look at her lips. See the blue along the line of her lips and under her fingernails.”
I did. But I didn’t want to.
“A ghost pushed her to this.”
“Pushed her off?”
“Oh no,” Finn said disgustedly, “She jumped. Rue, we have the highest college suicide rate. Did you know that? Ghosts get a better buzz off of emotions if the victim commits suicide. They eat up that emotional burst.”
“Why is it worse at St. Angelus?” I asked.
“We don’t have a real keeper.”
The words were so very weighted. So much manipulation and guilting and frustration behind them. Too bad for him I’d been raised by someone who was the be-all, end-all master of manipulation. He and his stupid council didn’t have a clue.
“I don’t know where the Talisman is,” I said still feeling guilty that I hadn’t looked for it after Martha had taken it back. That I had deliberately not looked. Hadn’t even wanted to look. I didn’t want to be the keeper. I could probably ask for it from Martha and get it. Just. That. Easily. But, I couldn’t choose someone and hand it over, could I? I would not feel guilty because it was missing. It was a rumor that it was in Hallow House.
No. Gods I wouldn't risk interfering with the Talisman. I wasn’t the queen of the thinning. I didn’t have any control over the Talisman. Whatever power had made that Talisman and linked it to the thinning here—it wasn’t me, and I wasn’t keeping the Talisman from anyone.
This wasn’t my fault, I told myself. But when I looked down at those dead, staring eyes—it was guilt that I felt.
CHAPTER 2
Here’s a little history lesson.
Once upon a time, before I was born and while my Mother was even younger than me, my grandmother was the Keeper of the St. Angelus Thinning. According to my sister, this meant Grandmother was the Princess Knight of the Dead and Undead. If you’re not crazy, it meant she dealt with bad necromancers who abused the ether and ghosts to fuel their spells. Grandmother also dealt with ghosts who fed off or terrorized the living.
This was, of course, forever ago. And I only know it by hearsay from everyone except my mother. My mother didn’t tell me a thing. She threw me to St. Angelus by sheer masterful manipulation and without an ounce of preparation. Anyway, back to the lesson, all by my grandmother’s lonesome—though to be perfectly honest—maybe she worked as keeper team with my grandfather. I didn't know. I guess they were both necromancers. Either way, a more ancient and powerful necromancer who’d become possessed by lots and lots and lots of ghosts murdered them.
My mother, an only child, was orphaned. Her aunt, Dominique Hallow, took up the Talisman and the role of Princess Knight of the Dead and Undead. My mother moved in with cousins. She was a kid. She doesn’t talk about it. Was it good? Bad? I have no idea.
Dominique didn’t really last that long as the keeper. She was gone before my mother had finished college. Like the pragmatic, cold-blooded person my mother is, she packed up her bags, transferred schools, locked away the Hallow House and with it—supposedly—the Talisman of the St. Angelus Thinning.
Crippling the area here.
At some point after, the Hallow Family Council finally set up a whole team of keepers. I have no idea how long that’s been going on. But Mr. Heroic Archetype, Finn I-don’t-know-his-last-name, led this crack team.
And if his recent comments were anything to go by, the super special team was failing.
But here’s another thing—I have been manipulated my entire life by the world’s most masterful manipulator, my mother. I was damn sure he was playing me. He was too pretty. He hadn’t been invited to the party. He was someone’s pawn. He might believe what he’d said. About it being necessary for someone to take up the Talisman.
I was pretty sure he was in earnest because he believed it. But I also didn’t believe that you can lock away a tool of power from the rightful wielder.
I had a niggling idea of what might have happened to the Talisman. But...I wasn't sure yet. Or maybe I didn't want to be. Either way, I felt sure they were going to try to throw the death of this girl at my feet, but I was looking at a town full of necromancers, other members of an ancient family, and their trained thugs—none of them had caught this bad ghost.
I wasn’t responsible because we’d all failed.
And yes, I realized I included me in that list. I knew the dead girl. Her name was Jen. And, I hadn’t liked her. She was snotty and rude in the way that said she was 'just' being ‘honest.’ I didn’t give passes for people being bluntly, graphically rude and calling it honesty or leadership. But given a chance, I’d have prevented her death.
“We need to call the cops,” I said.
“We need to find and get rid of the ghost,” Finn replied.
“Yeah, get right on that,” I told him. I pulled my phone from my pocket. No service. “Of course.”
But I was a witch. And my home, before Hallow House, was on an island with crap service. I dialed anyway and with my magic pushing the signal, I had a 911 operator in a moment. I had no idea how long it would take the cops to get here, but I wasn’t moving another step closer until cops were here and were well aware that I had an alibi.
“We should have called the emergency line,” Finn said.
“That’s 911,” I repli
ed, stepping a little further back. I could feel a chill that said a ghost hid out of sight. But I didn’t give a crap about that right now. As long as it kept its distance.
“The emergency line for the council,” Finn said it as if I were stupid.
“What, by Hecate, are you talking about?”
His gaze settled on me, I could feel it like a caress, and it made me want to punch him in the throat. He didn’t get to do that. Stare at me until I felt it like a physical caress. Make me feel things with a body nearby.
“They didn’t give you the number?” He didn’t sound as if he believed me.
“I haven’t heard from the council since I opened the Hallow House and they tried to sneak my inheritance away from me.”
I could feel, with my witchy senses, how he didn’t believe me.
“Look, Finny, they like you. You’re their little soldier. Captain of the Team. You probably have straight As and worked for their approval. I’m the kid of the woman who flipped them a massive bird and took off. I’m tainted goods, and they don’t like me.”
I walked farther down the path away from Jen. There was a coolness that was coming from her body that I sure didn’t like. In fact, I was freezing. And my gut was telling me I should run as far and as fast as I could. I was pretty sure this was a ghost forming even though I didn’t know jack about ghosts.
“Do you feel that,” I asked. The chill was creeping towards me. Ghostly fog fingers even though there was nothing to see. Creeping, closer and closer and closer.
“Please don’t play games with me,” he said. He sounded exhausted. “Don’t pretend to have abilities that you don’t have. I can’t deal with your juvenile crap right now.”
“Rude,” I snapped. “Rude and rude again. I’m not playing games with you. Jen is waking up.”
Also, my feelings were hurt. I didn’t want to think about why, but there was the reality that he was really very attractive. And even if he was a jerk and a patsy for the Hallow Council he was a fine specimen of human flesh.
Right? Right. Sweet Hecate, I was as crazy as my mother.
“I’m not trying to be mean,” Finn said as if I were childish, but he was trying to be kind. “You probably feel the ghost who drove her to this. It’s too soon to feel or see her. That takes days.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I wasn’t trying to argue. I was right. I’m not a know-it-all. Not by any extent. I knew very well that I didn’t know everything about witchcraft. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not humble. I know a lot about potions. I’m passionate about them. I can tell you all kinds of stuff about wolfsbane and how the general magical effects of wolfsbane interact with other magical herbs. Lavender and wolfsbane—an unexpected outcome. I’m arrogant as anything about potions. And yet, I’m also right about being good at them. I knew very well I wasn’t good at necromancy and I didn’t think I knew more than Finn.
But, I did know potions.
“I’m the one working on my master’s in necromancy here, Veruca.”
Ooooh, the jerk had pulled out my whole name. I hated that name.
“Rue,” I wasn’t nice in correcting him. “And I saw Chrysie the day she died. She was a ghost before she was changed into a vampire, and I saw her in the bathroom very soon after she died.”
“That isn’t possible…” I could almost hear the cogs in his brain working. And I would bet there was a big fat except to that statement.
“I’m not lying. I did see Chrysie and Jen is forming up over there. Sort of. I really don’t want to see her. But I can feel something witchy going on.”
“If that were true…” He started, and he stared at me. His eyes glowed, and I could freaking feel his gaze. It was pissing me off.
“You’re creepy as hell,” I told him. “Quit staring at me. You can…like…make me feel it when you’re staring at me, and that wigs me the hell out. Quit it! Or by Hecate, I will do something bad. I don’t know what. But I’ll give you something to stare at.”
“Dr. Hallow said you were very gifted.” Finn sounded thoughtful.
“Peachy,” I said snidely, shifting my shoulders uncomfortably.
And then I found my way farther away from the path and the body and the baby ghost. There was a tree to lean against, and I would guess that whatever cops were showing up weren’t going to be running with magical speed. The tree wasn’t a cypress or one of the ancient oaks and it didn’t have a personality to it, at least one that I could feel. I would give a lot to be snuggled up with one of the ancient cypress trees my ancestors planted at the ruins of the first St. Angelus house.
“Don’t you even care what’s happening?” He sat down next to me, and I could feel his warmth through my leggings. He was talking about being the keeper again. It made me tired.
I can admit that his warmth distracted me. Even as it irritated me. I paused and gathered my thoughts as I pressed my head harder against the tree. There was so much passion in that question that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he was talking about, but I finally asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Rue, people are dying. Spirits are being tortured. Dirty necromancers are using our thinning for all kinds of stuff. The Keeper Team…they’re totally ineffective. We’re failing. Someone needs to take up the Talisman and the role.”
There was so much passion in his reply. So much sorrow, I found myself astounded. I wouldn’t have thought someone so tall, dark, and soldiery would have sounded so distraught.
I didn’t want to be that person he was pinning his hopes on. I did not want to be the keeper. But the passion in his voice—it made me wonder what he was after? Did he want to be the keeper? Or did he only care that people were dying? Was it really as bad as he said? And if it was…Hecate, if it was…what did that say about me and my unwillingness to help them find the Talisman
“Finn,” I started, needing to explain. But I was hit in the eye with a brilliant flashlight. “Ouch!”
“Sorry. You the kids who found a body?” The voice didn’t sound surprised so much as weary. Hecate, how many bodies did this guy deal with? Why was it so bad here? Was it really what Finn had said?
Finn took the cops up the trail, but one stayed behind with me. I could hear the others question Finn, and I could feel the cool, horror of a ghost rising. And…and I was cold, hungry, freaked out, and sad. Talking about all of this had distracted me from my electric bill but brought up all the Mother baggage. I’d have preferred the electric bill and grocery worries.
“What you kids doing out here?” The cop was wearing the traditional black and white uniform. He was pudgy with kind, but sharp eyes, and an expression that said he’d seen it all before.
“You know that we’re both adults, right?” I wasn’t trying to be a snarky brat. I was a bit tired of being controlled by my age.
The cop was old—maybe 50—and he gave me a smile that told me I didn’t know jack about being an adult. He wasn’t wrong. I was haunted by my electric bill. That felt adultish, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Which felt very much like I needed to call my Mother or Daddy. Calling my Mother meant strings. Calling Daddy meant snide comments from my Mother. I preferred to struggle a bit longer before begging for a rescue.
In fact, I preferred to rescue myself.
“So, why are you here?” The cop didn’t bother to mock at my claim of adulthood.
I didn’t want to say after my adult comment. My voice was pretty soft as I finally answered, “We were playing truth or dare at a party.”
His snort told me that he caught the irony too.
Oh shut up, I thought at him.
“What’s your name kid?”
I didn’t give him crap this time. “Rue Hallow.”
“You the one who opened up the Hallow House?”
I nodded, realized he couldn’t see me that well, and quietly said, “Yes.”
I hadn’t expected anyone to know about that. Certainly not cops who worked in a small town. I had been going to class long enough to k
now that it was getting around. There had been enough people to point and stare at Chrysie and me to let me know that St. Angelus College cared very much that the Hallow House was no longer magically shut down.
“It’s not too smart to go rock climbing in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah,” I sighed it this time. It hadn’t been smart. I had known it at the time. But that hadn’t kept the dare and my little potion from helping me decide to make the climb. He didn’t need to know that I had been planning to confront a ghost I didn’t have the skills to remove. Or that my entire childhood had been my sister and me pulling crap like this.
I told him what he needed to know and how we came to find Jen. I gave him her name and said how I’d known her.
Finn came back with one of the other cops as the one who was sitting with me said, “I knew your mom. And I wasn’t surprised when I heard that she didn’t train you in necromancy. But Rue, you are here now. Being an adult—that means recognizing your limitations and deciding what you’ll agree to without letting older adults push you around. Even if they’re handsome young bucks like this fellow.”
Finn didn’t defend himself. But I could sense his attention on our conversation, and I wanted to lash out at him. What? What? What! I could feel the consideration behind what he’d heard and what he thought he knew.
“Autumn was a powerful witch and a powerful necromancer,” the cop said. “But she was always kind of a cold fish.”
“Yup,” I said as I rose. “Do we have to stay here?”
“Nah,” the cop said. “We’ll take care of things and question you tomorrow. You’ll need to come by the station and read and sign a statement. Will you be able to do that?”
I nodded and thanked him for his advice. Before I was quite out of earshot, I stopped and turned back. “How did you know my mother?”
“Dated her a bit,” he said, grinning at my wide-eyed shock. “She was as pretty as you, but I wasn’t a strong enough witch for her.”
Hungry Graves: A Rue Hallow Mystery Page 2