Why isn’t she getting up? Danny wondered, as Angelica continued to recline in the slush. She regained her senses by then, he was sure of it.
“Haven’t you had enough of being a little lackey?” Angelica countered. “Agreeing to spy on my operation? And for what? To be a goddess’ baby daddy before she encases you in ice, too?”
Roman glared at her. “Cailleach wouldn’t do that. Maybe you would, but not her.”
“Blind faith. One thing I never ask of my followers, yet here you are, giving it to some crazy old bitch who pops up after being in hiding for centuries. She doesn’t want you, she needs your power. And you’re egotistical enough to fall for every saccharine word out of her chicken lips.”
Sean cleared his throat, hiding a chuckle. Roman didn’t notice, but Angelica did; Danny could tell by the way she inclined her head. He wanted desperately to shoot the bastard, but how could he? What if Angelica moved without warning? It was too risky.
“A vampire could never dream to understand a witch,” Roman countered. “I’m going to be a god, and you’re going to be rotting in Hell where you belong. You and all your kind. Fucking parasites.”
Angelica pursed her lips, but a giggle escaped. “You think you’re going to be a god? You failed your mission, Airmid. How forgiving do you think your goddess is going to be when she finds out?”
Roman stepped closer, eyes darkening so much, he looked practically demonic himself. One didn’t need to be psychic to feel the rage that crackled in the air. He raised a hand with magic gathered in his palm.
Angelica moved her hand a bit, and Danny spotted a thick, sharp shard of ice in her grasp, out of Roman’s view, and relaxed. As usual, his wife could take care of herself.
Before Roman could do anything, a cold North wind began to blow, so hard Sean’s long coat made harsh whipping sounds as it fluttered.
Everyone, even Roman, looked around in fear. Except for Angelica. She used the distraction to leap to her feet, arm outstretched, and slice into Roman’s exposed neck. Arterial spray hit her, mingling with the dried blood already soaking her face and coat, and she licked her lips as Roman choked, holding one hand to the wound. It barely stanched the flow of blood as he stumbled backwards and fell.
Surprisingly, he didn’t hit the ground. Instead, the now deserted street was filled with the wet, squelching, and bone-crunching sound of the witch’s impalement. Ice stuck out of the ground, unformed but sharp as a blade. The other end pierced clean through him, leaving him suspended aloft like a grotesque lawn ornament.
“Huh. Merry Christmas to me. Guess I’ve been a good girl,” Angelica commented. “Santa Claus decided to give me my present early in the form of ‘asshole on a stick’.”
Chapter 9
“Okay … what the Hell happened back there?” Danny asked Angelica as they got home that night. Or early morning. Whichever. “And if you tell me it was Santa, I’m going to stab myself.”
She chuckled, taking his hands in hers as she led him to the bathroom. She was covered in blood and needed to get it off. “That wind … did you hear it?”
“Kinda hard not to,” he replied.
“No, I mean the voice.”
At that, he stopped cold and stared at her while she proceeded to start removing the blood-soaked clothes.
“Do we need to have the ‘mushrooms are bad for you’ talk? And can a vampire even eat them?”
She began to laugh harder. “Do you know how many deities are celebrated around this time? Deities whom I have helped preserve the religions of? It’s been a hundred and thirty years; I’m owed a few favors. So someone told me to ‘be still and wait’. So I did, until the wind came, and then I knew it was my time to act. The ice stake in the ground? That could have been them, too, or it could have been serendipity. I, for one, won’t question it.”
Danny recalled something he read as a child. “‘Do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes’.”
She nodded. While she doubted it was God Himself — she knew there was a high possibility her soul was intended for Hell — it was Someone Who believed in that bit of Scripture. After all, she was well due for a Christmas miracle, and what better one to come than a North wind, revealing the North Star?
“Now, enough about some magical prick who got his just desserts. It’s almost sunrise, and I need to shower and feed. If you join me, I can do both at once.”
As his eyes lit up, she knew she successfully changed his train of thought.
Next up, they needed to find the corn dolly, and she needed him one hundred percent focused. They couldn’t concern themselves with their supernatural assistant.
Before she got sinful, however, she offered up a silent prayer of thanks, hoping Whoever was up there heard or felt her gratitude.
The next sunset, Angelica went through the PID files to find Roman’s address.
“You think he’s got the corn?” Danny asked as he sat down next to her in the living room.
“If Cailleach didn’t retrieve it yet, yes. Unless it was inside the house where she killed that family. But if that was the case, an agent cleaning up the crime scene would have reported it.”
“Unless it was Roman who found it,” Danny pointed out. “Which I guess brings us back to him being the likely suspect to have it.”
“Bingo.” Angelica snapped her fingers and then sent his address to her phone. She stood up and tossed Danny’s coat at him. “Let’s go. I’ve got matches and holy oil in the car to burn it.”
“Did Mary Poppins make your trunk?” Danny asked as he zipped his coat and tossed on his hat and gloves.
“No, but I bet the witch who made the charm she put on her bag is proud of how much use its getting,” Angelica replied with a wink. There was nothing more satisfying than making Danny have that particular expression on his face with every new piece of information he received about the paranormal world.
“One day, I’m going to need a padded room, and it’s going to be your fault.”
She turned and placed a kiss on his nose, leaving a trace of black lipstick. “You know you love me.”
“That’s why I’m gonna need the padded room!”
Roman’s house was not a house at all; he rented the basement below a fairly innocuous family’s home. It was a good cover: these people were hardcore Catholics, and all the religious statues, prayers, and art made Angelica uneasy. Who would expect a Dark witch to live there of all places?
An elderly woman answered the door at their knock. She gave Angelica a judgemental once-over. “Yes?” Her body was frail, but her face was plump with rosy cheeks. She could have been on a Christmas card.
Angie flashed her badge, as did Danny. “FBI, ma’am. Did or does a Roman Airmid rent the in-law apartment from you?” Standing nearly a foot taller than the woman, she put on her intimidating expression, one she usually reserved for the mortal FBI when they questioned her practices.
“Yes. I don’t understand … is he in trouble? He told us he worked for you,” she said, hand to her chest.
“He’s dead, ma’am,” Danny said, more sympathetic than Angelica would have been. “And we need to secure whatever classified information he might have had in his apartment.”
“Let us in, please,” Angelica said, though it was a command, not a request.
The woman blanched and stepped aside. “Poor, dear Roman. Yes, of course, come in. I’ll unlock his door for you.”
‘Poor dear’ my tattooed ass, Angelica thought as she and Danny followed the woman down the hall to a thin doorway leading to the basement.
They walked down the rickety staircase into a bare but comfortable room. There was a kitchenette, bathroom, and the living room and sleeping quarters were separated by Japanese shoji doors. The only signs of life were the extremely disorganized desk and a collection of herbs and potion ingredients kept haphazardly on a shelf near the kitchen.
“Okay,” Angelica said. “Let’s start looking.”
Danny tackled the desk, while Angelica looked in the sleeping area.
“His shit is about as organized as yours,” Danny called.
“Shut up.”
In her haste, she made more noise that she would have liked tossing things around, but who knew where that doll was? They needed it yesterday. Being careful didn’t matter, no one was coming back to claim any of this stuff.
Danny, too, she could hear upending drawers and checking the oven and fridge. “Eww. That thing is so moldy I think the plastic is going to decompose,” he commented.
As he slammed the door shut, Angelica’s vampiric senses picked up something else, a scraping noise, like slippers on concrete. Before she could turn and see, something heavy seemed to fall, and Danny yelled, “You crazy old bitch, what the Hell?”
She leapt around the shoji and saw the old woman wielding a large, cast-iron skillet in two hands like she was Javy Baez and the World Series depended on this next swing. And of course, kind, mortal, conscience-riddled Danny was hesitant to harm an old woman, even if she was trying to turn him into brain stew.
Angelica couldn’t shoot her; if the bullets went through and through, she could accidentally injure Danny. So she did the next best thing.
Her vampire speed got her across the room quicker than the blink of an eye, right behind the old woman. Her first move was to snap one of the brittle wrists, which she did, and the skillet fell to the ground with a resounding clang. Without waiting for the woman to even scream, Angelica placed her hands on either side of the lady’s neck and twisted so that the gnarled old face was now staring at her, neck twisted like an owl.
She dropped the corpse to the ground and said, “Well, that was … unexpected.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t think the doll is here. Call the CSU ghouls and let’s get to HQ and figure this out.”
Danny kept staring at the old woman’s corpse. “I was about to be killed by freakin’ Mrs. Claus.”
“Merry Christmas. And little tip? Next time you’re faced with a crazed, pan-wielding old crone, shoot her.”
Back at PID headquarters, Angelica paced her office, mind whirling.
Cailleach wouldn’t keep the doll herself. She never does anything herself, she always has witches or humans do most menial tasks for her. So who would she trust besides Roman to hold that doll? It’s essential, she wouldn’t trust just anyone.
She pressed the Bluetooth earbud she recently took to wearing and called Sean. “Hey, can you pull up the inventory of anything found at the house where we found the dead people? Thanks.” She clicked it off without waiting for his response.
Danny was at the newly repaired window, staring outside.
“Hey, you okay?” Angelica asked, coming to stand at his side. She stared at his reflection in the cold glass, while the spot where hers should be was empty. It was still weird to her after two centuries of having one. “Killer Mrs. Claus freak you out?”
He gave her a half-smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I just … we have one day, Angie. And I have a funny feeling we won’t have to wait that long. What if … what if she attacks during the day?”
That made Angelica’s brain short-circuit for a moment. What if Cailleach attacked when she was out of commission?
“We need you, and I am not ashamed to admit that,” Danny continued, meeting her eyes via reflection. “I had the best track record at CPD, and I still couldn’t have managed this level of success without you.”
For the first time since it initially happened, Angelica despised being a full vampire. It took her away from everything and everyone who was important to her. She wrapped her arm around Danny’s and laid her head on his shoulder.
“You and Sean can manage if it happens.”
“Manage. Not win,” he pointed out.
“Come on, you don’t think you’re owed a Christmas miracle, too?” she asked. “I got one, why not you?”
Before Danny could reply, Angelica felt … tingly. It was as if her whole body started to fall asleep. She looked down to see that her hands were rippling. “Danny, what the Hell is happening?” She stepped away from him, in case whatever this was turned out to be contagious somehow.
However, Danny was nothing if not stubborn as he grabbed her forearms and held on tightly. The rest of her body began to ripple, and so did his.
“Magic,” he gasped. “Not Dark.”
There came a feeling like being in a vacuum, and Angelica became dizzy. Blackness like the night surrounded the two of them, and while she could still feel Danny’s grip, she had no feeling anywhere else. She was nothing but stardust and consciousness.
Though it seemed to take hours and milliseconds at the same time, her body gradually became corporeal again and both she and Danny were dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Her stomach was in her throat, but vampires can’t vomit. Her head spun, and she was unable to focus her eyes on anything.
Danny retched somewhere nearby, and she wasn’t surprised. He often did when she dragged him along at vampire speed, too.
She closed her eyes and felt around to ground herself.
Cold.
Snow.
Great.
They were outside and Danny had no protective clothing except a light jacket and his scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. Slowly, she opened her eyes, seeking Danny first.
He was not even two feet away, on his hands and knees, trying to stand. His face had a greenish cast to it, but he was okay. For now. Angelica tried to gauge the temperature, which wasn’t easy for a vampire to do. Was it that far below freezing? How long did he have before hypothermia set in?
Forty-five minutes, she thought, recalling her father’s survivalist training. I don’t think we’ll have enough time. He has to leave.
“Not going anywhere, Angie,” he grunted, and she realized she said that out loud.
“Oh, no, please don’t leave,” said a Scottish brogue.
Angelica leapt to her feet and glared at Cailleach. Her full youth was restored, but she still thought the witch resembled a chicken with those unblinking round eyes that lacked emotion and her thin, pursed lips. She wore long, silky, bluish white robes over a gauzy white dress that appeared to be made of woven ice. Her hair was white with blonde lowlights, and her skin was paler than Angelica’s. Her eyes were pale blue, as were her lips, but they weren’t blue with death. Rather, she had more life about her than Angie currently did.
“Look, as much as I hate the ‘evildoer gives a long winded speech’ thing, I gotta know: what did you do to get us here?” she asked. It was new to her, and if she survived, she needed to write up a new law forbidding the use.
Cailleach laughed, high-pitched and tinkly, making Angelica set her teeth. “Teleportation mixed with a summoning spell. Rather clever, wouldn’t you say, Empress?”
Angelica shrugged. “Sure. If you like magical parlor tricks. Now,” she reached for her gun, “why don’t you do this the easy way and surrender? Let’s not mar the beauty of winter with your blood.”
Cailleach spat on the snow, and the spittle froze it. “Breith i bpoll cúng ort.”
Angelica’s heart pounded faster at the insult. She knew little Gaelic, but that was a common insult from other creatures to vampires, loosely meaning, “May you be caught in the grave.” It was wishing worse than death on the Undead: it was wishing for them to be stuck in their graves, staked, for all eternity, as a vampire cannot decay when merely staked.
“If I wasn’t already going to kill you, I am now.” Angelica fired a shot, and to her surprise, Cailleach didn’t flinch when the bullet embedded itself in her gut. Bright red blood blossomed across the white dress.
“You can’t kill me with those five bullets,” the witch reminded her. “I am rooted here, and you and your human popsicle over there can deal with it or die.”
I don’t know what to do, Angelica realized with growing horror. No way she’ll let us go, and Danny will die before long. Will shooting her five times at least inhi
bit her magic a little? Can I dare to hope?
She gave a quick glance up at the night sky between the growing clouds. It was half an hour to midnight. The Solstice. She had thirty minutes to stop the witch and save Danny from freezing to death.
A resounding crack rang out and more blood blossomed on Cailleach’s dress. This time, the witch showed her pain as she doubled over and screamed.
“I’m … cold. Not dead,” Danny said. He was still on one knee, but his aim was amazing. He looked up at Angelica and winked. “I don’t know how, Angie, but I know you can do this.”
Good thing he believes that, because I fucking don't.
She glanced around, trying to figure out where they were. It appeared they were on Ohio Street Beach, with the way the city was set up, brightly lit, behind them. In back of Cailleach, the lake seemed calmed by the thin layer of ice atop the water. Another reason to finish this quickly: she didn’t want any bystanders injured.
Cailleach straightened up, face pinched in anger. “You will regret that, mortal.”
“Not as much as you’ll regret all the people you’ve killed,” Angelica said. She fired another bullet, but the witch held up a shield, and the bullet fell into the snow, useless.
She sent a wind spell at Angelica, but Angie ducked and rolled. She was coated in snow, but at least she wasn’t blown away. Another round; this one went wild but it was supposed to, distracting Cailleach for a second.
“How did you come here?” Angelica had to know; she hated leaving mysteries unsolved. “Why choose Airmid of all the witches in Chicago?”
Cailleach tittered, and Angelica wanted to rip her tongue out. “Silly girl, I didn’t choose this place, nor did I choose Roman. He chose me. He summoned me when he sacrificed that little girl. Made the dolly, enchanted it, and brought me to him. He wanted to rule with me. Stupid little man. Thank you for killing him for me.”
I didn’t, Someone else did, Angelica thought but didn’t say. It made sense now: Cailleach was happily hibernating and a power-hungry man set her on the warpath.
Holidays Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Holiday Vampire Tales Page 69