Deadwood Mystery 11 - Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  Another gust slammed into us, whooshing up from the Open Cut next door. My face stung from the freezing blast.

  “Damn, it’s cold tonight.” Doc grabbed my elbow, leading me toward the chained front doors. “Let’s go see if this Hungarian bastard feels like having a play date.”

  While Doc unlocked the padlock and pulled the chain free from the doors, I frowned across at the buildings that remained from Homestake Gold Mine’s days of shining glory. What was going on with the caper-sus problems Mr. Black had told me about last week? How much did Dominick know about this cult?

  I hadn’t heard from the slick charmer since Sunday night on Aunt Zoe’s porch. If I succeeded tonight, I had a feeling he’d be paying me a visit soon. If I didn’t succeed … well, none of this would matter anymore for me.

  But it would for Addy.

  I shook off that gloomy thought and turned back as Doc shouldered open one of the paint-peeling doors and flicked on his flashlight. “I’ll go first,” he said.

  “No, Doc.” I caught his arm and held him back. “I’ll go first tonight.” I could tell by his tight lips that he didn’t like letting me lead, but I slid by him anyway and stepped into the cold, musty darkness, my mace firmly in hand.

  I shined my light around the big, open front room, taking in the pieces of plaster and critter droppings littering the floor. The footprints from our last visit had a small layer of dust coating them. The murky plastic still covered the windows, same as before. The faint orange glow from the street lights down the road seemed dimmer this evening, or maybe the previous visit was just brighter in my memory. Wind whistled through the old wooden panes, sending swirls of dust through my light’s beam. The cold had long ago settled into this place, making the air seem heavy and feel damp.

  I sighed. I’d much rather be at Aunt Zoe’s house in front of the fire with the kids and Mona, who’d agreed to babysit for me this evening on one condition: When we returned home, I’d explain why she’d found the words “Not Alone” written in Jane’s handwriting on the whiteboard this last Monday morning. She also was curious why my stapler had been on the floor next to her desk.

  Doc joined me. “Well? Are we all clear in here?”

  I nodded. “I’m not picking up any signs. How about you?”

  “I’d thought I might find Ottó waiting for us, but there’s nothing here besides someone else’s old memories. Is anything going on upstairs?”

  I listened for the sound of the lidérc clomping around on its weird horse-like hooves. “It’s quiet up there right now, but I haven’t really focused enough to truly listen for it.”

  He shined his light toward the hallway leading back to several small rooms, including what was left of a bathroom and kitchen. “Do you want to check out the other rooms in the back?”

  “I suppose we better.”

  He turned back to Cornelius, who was frowning at the floor while stroking his goatee. “We’re going to do a quick check to make sure we don’t have any company. You okay out here?”

  “Sure. Oh, Violet, take this.” He held out a white candle that was about an inch and a half in diameter. “No, wait.” He pocketed the candle and pulled out a matching black one. “Use this one instead.”

  “What’s this for?” I asked, taking the black candle and giving it to Doc to hold. “I have a flashlight.”

  He pulled out his lucky lighter and handed it to me. “A black candle is used for protection, but only light it if you need it.”

  “What’s the white one for?” I asked.

  “Cleansing. It will purify the area.”

  “Shouldn’t I use the white one then?”

  “Are you going to be reaching out into the dark from the back rooms?”

  “No.”

  “Then you don’t need to purify anything. I’ll use it out here while I wait for you to return.” He held out the candle for me to light it. After I pocketed his lighter, he held the white candle in front of his face and gave me a spooky grin. “Try to make it back alive.”

  “Not funny, Cornelius,” I said and pinched his arm through his coat harder than I meant to. “Oops,” I said in lieu of an apology. “I’m a little stressed tonight.”

  He rubbed his arm. “You are unnaturally strong for a woman, Violet, especially when in killing mode. I fear for the Tall Medium.”

  “Fear?” I glanced at Doc. I did, too, but I doubted it was for the same reason as Cornelius. “Why?”

  “According to what I’ve read, submission during coitus is not easy for a strong woman who is used to being in control. True intimacy comes from learning how to surrender that control. You might want to experiment with allowing your mate to implement a rougher form of intercourse, which allows you to release your pent-up emotions and aggression in ways that don’t hurt the others around you.”

  My cheeks caught on fire, or at least they felt like it right then. A gurgling sound came from my throat as I choked on a bundle of embarrassment and mortification.

  Chuckling, Doc took my hand. “You’re a fountain of curiosities, Ghost Whisperer. I’ll tell you what. I’ll invest in some leather cuffs and a dominatrix getup for Violet so that she quits hurting you.”

  “Excellent.” Cornelius set his white candle on the floor. “The world will be a safer place due to your efforts.”

  I was still sputtering as Doc led me and my mace toward the hallway.

  “Do you want a whip or a riding crop with your S&M getup?” he asked, grinning down at me. “I can’t wait to see you and those purple boots in a fake leather jumpsuit.”

  I pinched the skin over his ribs almost as hard as I had Cornelius.

  “I think Curion is onto something with this rough intercourse idea,” he joked, rubbing his side.

  My face was no longer burning by the time we returned, but Doc was still grinning in spite of numerous pinching threats I’d given him during our search for potential trouble.

  “You were right to worry,” Doc said to Cornelius, who was standing beside a circle of silver-colored rope on the floor next to the flickering white candle. A bouquet of dried weeds had been placed in the center of the circle. “Violet is full of pent-up emotions. I’ll be sure to take her in hand later.”

  I elbowed him, making him grunt and laugh. I pointed at Cornelius’s white candle. “Did you purify the area?”

  “Of course.” He grabbed my arm and led me into the center of the circle next to the bouquet. “This is your spot.”

  I picked up the dried bouquet. It smelled almost moldy, but earthy. “What’s this?”

  “Amaranth.” He left the circle. “It’s an extremely powerful protection herb.”

  “Protects me from what in particular?” I held the smelly weed further away from me.

  “Physical attacks.”

  “Really?” Probably due to the smell.

  “Yes. I’ve tested it myself in the past.” He switched out his furry Cossack hat for the Viking helmet. “Amaranth is a tricky herb to acquire, though. You have to extract the whole plant when the moon is full. Many who use it keep it under their clothes against their skin for protection.”

  “So what do you want me to do with it?”

  “Put it under your shirt, of course.”

  I grimaced. “That’s going to be itchy.” And stinky.

  He sat down at the edge of the circle, indicating for me to do the same. “Would you rather be itchy or dead?”

  “Neither.” I sat down on the floor. The cold seeped through my jeans. I crossed my legs, tucking my purple boots under me. “But is this stuff going to work if the moon isn’t full tonight?”

  “We’ll see.”

  I would have liked more of a guarantee, dang it. “Can’t I just hold it in my lap?”

  “Only if you want to die.”

  Growling, I set my mace down next to me on the floor and unzipped my coat. “Are you going to weigh in on this at all?” I asked Doc, who stood on the other side of the circle from Cornelius.

  “Su
re.” He smiled down at me. “I’d be happy to stick it inside your shirt for you.”

  I gave him a mock glare. “You need to focus on something other than what’s under my shirt.”

  “I am. I’m thinking a riding crop would work best.”

  The pinging of his cell phone interrupted my cursing.

  Doc pulled the phone from his coat pocket. “Coop says that Natalie has Hawke racking pool balls at the Purple Door Saloon, and your aunt and Dominick were just served their appetizers, so we’re cleared for takeoff.” His phone pinged again. “He’s already waiting outside on the second-floor landing and wants you to hurry up because he’s freezing.”

  “Fine. Sheesh.” I looked over at Cornelius, who was sitting cross-legged with his one-horned Viking helmet slightly askew. “You ready?”

  He gave me a thumbs-up.

  Doc squatted in front of me, cupping my face. He stared into my eyes. “You be careful in there, Tish. I need you back in one piece when this is all done.”

  I nodded, my heart thumping hard now that it was time to finish the job. “No matter what, Doc, don’t cross the wards,” I reminded him. “We don’t know what might happen if the lidérc got its hands on an Oracle.”

  “Got it.” He leaned down and kissed me. It was the slow and tender kind that made me daydream about rolling around in a field of flowers under a warm sun—preferably with Doc, but right now I’d even be happy to be there alone if it meant not sitting on a cold floor in a dilapidated building preparing to take on a Hungarian devil.

  “Go get ’em, Killer,” he whispered and stepped outside of the circle. He walked over next to one of the windows, sliding down the wall to the floor.

  Cornelius took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Violet, don’t forget what I told you about the lidérc.”

  “Right. It is at its most vulnerable when confined in a small vessel,” I said, repeating his so-called words of wisdom from Sunday night. I wasn’t sure how that was going to help me, but maybe I’d find a small jelly jar waiting for me upstairs to do the trick. I double-checked my coat pocket to make sure his lucky lighter was still there. I wanted a backup in case I was stuck in the dark again. “Cross your fingers I don’t burn this place down by accident.”

  “Let’s not go down in flames tonight, Killer.”

  I closed my eyes and focused on slowing my breathing. When my muscles relaxed, I turned my thoughts to my old friend, the candle flame. Cornelius began his rhythmic humming, which seemed to make the flame glow brighter this time, and grow bigger even. I tried to settle in and reach out into the darkness, but the dried amaranth was tickling my cleavage, making me twitch and wiggle while scratching here and there.

  After several minutes of itchy torture, I reached inside of my shirt and yanked out the dried-up weed, tossing it away with a muttered curse.

  Something heavy clomped across the floor behind me, sounding like a three-hundred-and-fifty pound gorilla wearing mule heels.

  Hold up … Behind me?!!

  Gripping my mace, I opened my eyes.

  The window in front of me had no plastic covering. Shafts of moonlight shone through the glass, lining the floor. The clouds from earlier must have dispersed. A ward I knew well from hands-on practice was drawn on the wall. I was upstairs, and judging from the rasping noises behind me, I wasn’t alone.

  I pushed to my feet, cringing as one of my knees popped. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A familiar fetid stench I’d grown to hate surrounded me.

  I turned around slowly.

  Hovering not three feet away in all of its smoky glory was my good pal, the lidérc. Sparks dripped from its billowing form.

  “Howdy, old terror,” I said. “Did you miss me?”

  “Scharfri—”

  I swung before it could finish my name. My mace tore through the smoke, the spikes on the end snagging on the bastard and leaving a trail of fire behind. It shrieked and shifted away from me, drifting over to the window.

  “Come back here, darling,” I said, chasing after it. “We’re not done reminiscing.”

  I swung again right as it tried to flee toward the corner of the room. My mace ripped through more smoke and shadow, a line of fire flaring again. An ear-piercing screech rang out, making me cringe.

  Before I could blink, it rushed straight at me. Sidestepping, I swung again. The mace’s spikes ripped deep, sending a shower of sparks along with the flames this time.

  Another shrill scream rang out as it fluttered away, trailing big drips of fire along the floor behind it. It moved into the hallway that led to the back of the building, dragging one of its hooves by the swishing sounds of it.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I ran after it, the thud of my boot heels echoing in the empty room.

  The lidérc raced toward the big black spot on the wall at the other end of the hall.

  Crap! It had escaped through that damned spot the last time we’d played this game. I threw my mace, the same as I had my war hammer months back. This time I was faster on the draw. The lidérc was almost to the spot on the wall when the mace slammed into its back, sending up a shower of sparks. It dropped to the floor, my mace falling close by.

  I raced after it, only to skid to a stop when a thin, slightly hunched man stepped out from the back room and picked up my mace.

  What the …

  I squinted in the faint light coming from the lidérc’s flames and sparks, catching a glimpse of dark hair and a handlebar mustache. Holy hell! “Ottó? Is that you?”

  What was he doing here? I hadn’t seen his ghost since the night I killed Caly in this very hallway.

  “Not quite, Boots,” he said in a thick accent and tossed the mace to me.

  I caught it and stepped closer, my mouth wide. “Doc? What are you doing here? How did you …”

  The lidérc billowed up and swirled toward Ottó.

  “No!” I yelled, raising my mace.

  But I wasn’t quick enough.

  The devil flew into Ottó, shrouding him in a cloud of shadow and smoke.

  “Doc!” I stepped closer, not sure what to do to help.

  The smoke cleared. Ottó stood staring back at me. I rushed to him, pulling the lighter from my pocket. I flicked it to life and held it up in front of his eyes. Flat black pupils stared back at me.

  “Fuck!” I stepped back, pocketing the lighter. How was I going to …

  “You know what you have to do, Killer,” Ottó said. Or rather Doc. “I have it contained for now, but this vessel cannot hold it for long.”

  Realization made my knees weak. I shook my head. “I can’t do it, Doc.”

  “You have to.”

  “No.”

  “You heard Cornelius. It’s vulnerable in a vessel. This is its weakness.”

  “I was killing it before you let it inside Ottó.”

  “You were doing damage, but it heals too quickly.”

  “No. I can do it. Just let it back out and I’ll—”

  “That won’t work, Violet. You’ll tire and lose your advantage.”

  “Jesus, Doc,” I said, my voice hitching. “I can’t.”

  “Hurry! It’s strong and it knows our game now.”

  I lifted my mace, choking up on it. Tears filled my eyes. “What if this kills you, too, Doc? I can’t take that chance. You have to let it back out now.”

  “Swing, damn it!”

  “I don’t want—”

  Ottó’s jaw dropped and an earsplitting screech rang out. I leaned back in surprise, my breath catching. Fingers of smoke reached out of his mouth.

  I swung hard!

  My mace slammed into the side of Ottó’s head. An explosion of sparks blasted out from everywhere, like a huge flare going off. I shielded my eyes, stumbling backward as his body instantly disintegrated into a pile of flames on the floor.

  “Oh, no, no, no, no!” I rushed over and stomped on the flames until the last one died out. And then there was only silence and darkness and me.


  A breeze hit the building, making a loose piece of the corrugated tin roof on the outside stairwell rattle and creak.

  “Doc?” I whispered in the quiet. Tears rolled down my cheek. “Please don’t be dead for real.”

  I pulled out Cornelius’s lucky lighter and clicked it to life. In the flickering flame, the floor looked empty—no ashes, no soot, no black spot at all. All traces of the lidérc were gone.

  “Where did it go?” I asked aloud. And did it take Doc with it?

  I let the flame go dark and closed my eyes, listening, smelling, feeling, reaching out.

  “It’s gone,” Cornelius said.

  I gasped and opened my eyes. I was still in the hallway on the second floor of the building. Cornelius stood at the other end of the hall, wearing that crazy Viking helmet.

  “The Tall Medium sent me here to tell you to stop messing around and come back. He says he’s cold and wants to go home so he can get busy helping you vent all of that suppressed aggression.”

  A croaky laugh escaped from my throat. My hands trembled as I wiped away my tears. Oh, thank God! “He’s still alive?”

  “Very much so.” Cornelius cocked his head to the side, as if listening for something. “Oh dear, we need to hurry. Detective Cooper just joined him. Apparently, there’s a problem with a friend of yours.”

  Natalie! I hurried toward Cornelius, stopping in front of him. “How do I wake up quick?”

  “That’s easy.” He leaned forward and shoved me, sending me flying backward.

  I screamed as I tumbled into the darkness.

  “Jesus, Parker!” Cooper’s voice was loud in my ears.

  I opened my eyes and found myself on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Doc and Cooper leaned over me, one with a grin and the other with a scowl. I preferred the former, who was holding out his hand to help me up.

  “You okay, Tish?” Doc asked as I made it topside.

  I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to me, kissing him with all of my heart until Cooper cursed at us extra loud. When I stepped back, it took me a few gulps of air to catch my breath. Then I hauled off and punched Doc in the shoulder, but not too hard. “Don’t you ever do that again. I thought I’d killed you, dammit.”