Freaky Deaky Tiki

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Of course I asked her about it,” she said. “I mean ... who wouldn’t ask? It was a miracle. She told me about Taurus’s fertility ritual, and I had to check it out for myself. I mean ... I had to, right?” She looked to me for a nod of agreement. I wasn’t sure I could give it to her, so I merely spread out my hands and shrugged.

  “I went to him because I was desperate. I know that was a mistake,” Casey explained. “He welcomed me to the group, spent a full three hours giving me a tour of their facilities, and then he promised he could get me pregnant ... and not in a gross way, so don’t let your mind go to the gutter,” she warned Aisling.

  “I guess I’m curious about how you became pregnant,” Aisling said, choosing her words carefully. “I mean ... I get that your barren womb is now full, but is the baby even your husband’s kid?”

  “Of course the baby is Jacob’s.” Annoyance flashed in Casey’s eyes. “How can you even ask that?”

  “Because we’ve heard about the fertility ritual before and it sounds like a bunch of naked dancing that turns into an orgy.”

  “Well, that’s not what I went through,” Casey countered. “There was some chanting ... and dancing. Taurus warned that I would have to make a sacrifice and I agreed to his terms. If I could have a baby, what sacrifice wouldn’t I make to give Jacob and myself the one thing we’ve always wanted? I assumed it would be money. Now that we weren’t paying for fertility treatments we had some put away.”

  My stomach twisted at her earnest expression. “You think the sacrifice was Jacob, don’t you?”

  “Who else? You’ve seen the masks. I didn’t put those decorations in the office willingly. It was part of the process. They were provided by Taurus. He insisted they had to stay up until I gave birth.”

  “That’s weird.” Aisling rubbed the back of her neck as she considered Casey’s conundrum. “Have you seen Taurus since Jacob died?”

  “No. He’s called three times wanting to pay his respects, but I’ve ignored the calls because I’m afraid. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Why didn’t you call Galen?” I asked gently. “He would’ve helped.”

  “Yes, but then I would’ve had to admit that I was part of it, that it was my fault my husband died. I did this. I thought I was providing him with the answer to our prayers and instead he lost his life. How am I supposed to make amends for what I’ve done?” She buried her face in her arms and sobbed.

  Aisling’s expression was as grim as mine as our eyes snagged.

  “I think we’re dealing with some sort of black magic,” she said quietly. “I don’t think Jacob was the sacrifice for Casey’s baby. I think someone else was ... someone who was conveniently helped by Barry’s fertility ritual. So someone else died for Casey to get pregnant and Jacob died for someone else to get pregnant. That’s the only way the timeline fits. I obviously can’t be sure, though.”

  “So, what should we do?” I asked as I rubbed Casey’s back. She was a mess, her sobs coming in hiccups.

  “I don’t know.” Aisling was thoughtful. “We can’t let that crazy freak get away with this. We have to stop him ... and protect Casey. She didn’t realize what was going to happen. That means Taurus is being purposely vague. There has to be a reason for that.”

  22

  Twenty-Two

  Casey was such a mess we suggested she pack up and move out of the house. If Taurus came after her, if his patience at being ignored wore thin, she would be safer surrounded by family. She fought the effort, argued that this was Jacob’s house and she felt closer to him in it, but Aisling was adamant.

  “You need your family,” she stressed, refusing to back down. “Trust me. Family is important. Once this is all settled, you can come back and start over. Until then, you need backup.”

  Casey was weepy, but followed our instructions as she packed a suitcase. Then we loaded her into the golf cart — Aisling took the back seat with the luggage while Casey directed me toward her parents’ house — and once we were assured she was safely inside we started plotting.

  “I have to call Galen,” I insisted after parking in the shade outside the grocery store.

  Aisling, who was guzzling from a huge bottle of water, nodded. “You’d better. He will have a conniption fit if you don’t.”

  I was nervous as I selected Galen’s name from my contact list and pressed the phone to my ear. After four rings, it became apparent that he wasn’t going to pick up, so I left him a voicemail insisting that he call me as soon as possible, stressing that we weren’t in trouble and simply had information.

  When I was done, Aisling decided to call Griffin. He could relay the information to Galen, who was potentially busy with interviews or other issues. Griffin’s phone went to voicemail, too, leaving us perplexed.

  “What should we do?” Aisling asked after she left a much terser message. “Should we try to find them? They didn’t say what they were doing after lunch, so I don’t know where to start looking. Maybe we should go to the station.”

  I pointed across the road to the police station. “They’re not there. Galen’s truck is gone. They could be anywhere ... including out in the boonies with Taurus and his merry band of misfits. Galen said he was getting a warrant. I just didn’t think he would be using it today.”

  “We could look for them out there.”

  “Don’t even think about it.” On this I refused to back down. “We’re not going out there. I promised Galen we wouldn’t, and I meant it.”

  She pursed her lips. “Who else might be able to offer us some help? Someone who has a vehicle would be nice.”

  My mind immediately went to Booker. “I know someone, but he probably won’t be happy.”

  “Well, he’ll have to get over it.”

  AS PREDICTED, BOOKER WAS LESS than thrilled when he caught sight of us approaching him at the same tiki bar he’d been working at earlier in the week. He scowled when he saw us moving in tandem, and merely shook his head as he placed a piece of wood against the outside of a window – perhaps repairing a rotted frame – and glared.

  “Whatever you two are up to, I’m not interested,” he growled.

  “Oh, don’t be like that,” I whined, adopting my best “you like me and know you want to help me” look. “We’re here with our hats in hand.”

  Booker flicked his eyes to Aisling. “Do you have your hat in hand?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t look good in hats. Sometimes I wear them, but only if I wake up late and don’t have time to wash my hair.” She moved closer to him and grabbed the piece of wood to hold it in place. “Start hammering.”

  He smirked, her attitude causing him to grin. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been told that a time or two,” Aisling agreed. “You smell different today.” She leaned and sniffed. “Grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Interesting.”

  “I think your hormones are playing havoc with your olfactory senses,” Booker countered. “I smell of sweat and sun.”

  “I’m interested in this cupid thing,” Aisling admitted. “We have other things to worry about right now, so it’ll have to wait. We need your help ... and you’re going to give it without argument.”

  “Oh, really? What makes you think that?”

  “Because you’re genuinely fond of Hadley,” Aisling replied without hesitation. “She intrigues you. If I had to guess, it’s because she doesn’t react to that musk you exude. It must be exhausting to be in your position, to have women throwing themselves at you wherever you go.”

  “Actually, I happen to like it.”

  “You make a big show of liking it,” she corrected. “You probably did like it when you were a teenager. That’s every teenager's wet dream, after all, but you’re not overly fond of it now because you’re getting to an age where notions of settling down are taking over. How can you settle down when you’re never sure if these women like you because of you or the fact that you smell like grilled cheese sandwiches?�
�

  “You’re the only person who has ever said I smell like a sandwich.”

  “I’m not a normal girl.”

  “Definitely not,” Booker agreed, his eyes flashing with something I couldn’t identify. “You’re more intuitive than people give you credit for, aren’t you?”

  “I never get the credit I deserve.”

  “Yeah, well ... what do you want?” Booker was resigned as he looked to me. “I can already tell I’m going to hate this.”

  I related our day, leaving nothing out but sprinting through the high points. When I was done, the look on Booker’s face was straight out of a horror movie.

  “Wait ... Casey thinks that Jacob was a sacrifice for whatever fertility ritual Taurus used on her?”

  “Pretty much.” I bobbed my head. “Aisling has an interesting hunch that maybe there’s some overlap — we have no idea how Adam Grimport plays into this. We need to find Galen but he’s not answering his cell phone.”

  Booker scrubbed at the back of his head as he raised his eyes to the sky. “Why me?” He was seemingly asking it of a deity, but I had no idea about the belief system of a cupid and was instantly suspicious.

  “What do you know?”

  “I might — I stress might — have run into Galen and Griffin about two hours ago when they were leaving town,” he hedged. “They were on their way out to visit the cult after securing a warrant. They mentioned something about wanting to check on the people staying out there. I’m pretty sure it was a fishing expedition, but they seemed determined.”

  My heart dropped. “But ... if Taurus thinks they’re spying on him, trying to shut him down, he might hurt them. Griffin and Galen will be woefully outnumbered.”

  “I would like to point out that Galen can take care of himself ... and he’s armed.”

  “That won’t stop fifty crazy people from jumping him,” Aisling hissed, her expression darkening. “Griffin is on vacation. He’s not armed, and he’s not a shifter like Galen. He can only do so much.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Aisling sneered, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. I could practically feel the tension rolling off her. “We have to get out there.”

  Even though I wasn’t as opposed to the idea as I had been the first time she suggested it, I balked. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Yes, well, I’m not sure I care. I’m not leaving Griffin exposed to a group of fertility-challenged cult members.”

  “Slow your roll,” Booker ordered. “Your husband is a trained detective. He can handle himself.”

  “And I’m going after him.” Aisling was firm as she turned on her heel. “I don’t care if you go with me. I won’t leave him out there.”

  “Wait a second.” Booker dropped his hammer and strode after her, fury evident on his face. He grabbed her arm before she got too far and spun her so she faced him. “You can’t go out there. You’re pregnant. You could get hurt.”

  “I don’t care. I’m going after my husband.” She was defiant as she stared into Booker’s eyes. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “There’s something I can do to stop you.”

  I froze at the new voice, my eyes going wide when I realized we weren’t alone. The man who stood about ten feet behind Booker and Aisling was tall, distinguished and wearing a very expensive suit on the beach. He looked weary, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He had black hair, and his purple eyes stared directly at Aisling.

  When she turned to meet his gaze, she didn’t shrink in the face of his obvious annoyance. Instead, she burst into tears and strode toward him.

  The man — who I assumed was Cormack Grimlock — wrapped her in a hug and rocked her back and forth. He stroked her hair, rested his cheek against her forehead, and sighed. “Kid, you are a pain in the butt. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Griffin is in trouble.”

  “So I heard. Tell me what’s going on.” He tipped up her chin and swiped at the free-falling tears. “Stop that. You know I can’t take it when you cry.”

  “I can’t seem to help myself,” Aisling admitted, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “I do. You’re a pain in the behind.”

  “I can be a pain in the behind without crying. I don’t know why I can’t stop. I watched a commercial last night. It had a puppy and a horse, and I cried then, too.”

  “It’s the hormones.” Cormack sounded weary as he shook his head. “Your mother was the same way the first time she got pregnant. She made me watch Little House on the Prairie episodes so she could have a reason to cry. She wasn’t quite as ashamed of her actions as you are.”

  Aisling sniffled. “We have to get Griffin.”

  “And we will ... just as soon as you tell me what’s going on.” He was calm as he rubbed her back. “Introduce me to your friends and we’ll go from there.”

  “I’m Hadley.” I stepped forward and extended my hand, my eyes scanning the older man’s expressive face. “Has anyone ever told you that your resemblance to your children is eerie?”

  He chuckled as he accepted the handshake. “Everyone. Aisling says we look like a science experiment gone awry.” He flicked his eyes to Booker. “And you are?”

  “Booker.” They shook hands. “Your daughter is an absolute joy, by the way. Good job raising her to never accept ‘no’ for an answer.” He flashed a sarcastic thumbs-up. “Way to go.”

  “My daughter is ... a force to be reckoned with.” Cormack never stopped soothing his child, making me realize there were all sorts of parent-child relationships in the world. When his wife died, he obviously took over and became the emotional rock his family needed. My father was vastly different, and it made me yearn for the sort of relationship the Grimlocks clearly enjoyed. “Now, if you don’t mind, can we take this conversation inside so I can enjoy some air conditioning?”

  “We have to go after Griffin,” Aisling insisted, a fresh bout of tears unleashed. “We can’t leave him.”

  “I have no intention of leaving him, Aisling. If anyone is going to kill him, it’s going to be me. I need to get out of this infernal heat, though, and you need some water. Your face is extremely red.”

  “I don’t take the humidity well.”

  “I’m aware. Come along. You can have some water and a snack, and then we’ll go from there.”

  WE WENT TO LILAC’S bar because it was comfortable and we didn’t have to worry about people eavesdropping in the middle of the afternoon. We settled at a table in the corner — Lilac brought drinks for everyone — and then the conversation turned serious.

  “I need to know absolutely everything,” Cormack stated as he watched Aisling suck down her water. “To start, how are you feeling, kid?”

  Aisling knit her eyebrows. “I’m sick of people asking me that question. I’m not fragile. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “I didn’t suggest you weren’t perfectly fine. I’m simply asking how you’re feeling. You are carrying my first grandchild, after all.”

  She exhaled heavily and wiped her hand across her forehead. “I throw up every morning and I can’t take the heat. This already sucks. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “No.”

  “Why aren’t you going after Griffin?” The question came out a whine, but Aisling clearly didn’t care. “He could be in trouble.”

  “And he could be perfectly fine. I need all the facts before I race off to get him.”

  “I think you’re leaving him out there because you hope something will happen to him.”

  “And I think you’re being ridiculous,” Cormack shot back. “Griffin is as much my son now as the others. I love him. I want to hurt him right now — as I would want to hurt your brothers if they got a girl pregnant before marriage — but I still love Griffin.”

  “Then go get him.” Aisling’s tears were starting to dry. “He’s in trouble. There�
��s a cult out there and they’re killing people. I want him back right now.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me.” Cormack extended a warning finger. “I may let you run roughshod over me because you’re spoiled, but I deserve some respect. And, quite frankly, you need to pull yourself together. Griffin needs both of us. I need to know what we’re up against before we run out there half-cocked.”

  Aisling scowled. “Oh, whatever.”

  Because she didn’t seem willing to do it, I launched into the story from the beginning. I felt as if I’d told it so many times that the details were now second nature. When I was done, Cormack was calm as he rubbed his chin.

  “And we have no idea why the reaper was targeted?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I can’t think of any reason.”

  “I can, but I’m not sure I like the implications.” Cormack’s hand was steady on Aisling’s back as he rubbed at the tension eating away at her. “It sounds like this was a concerted effort. Whatever ritual they’re doing requires souls. Souls aren’t always easy to get.”

  “Booker says there aren’t many wraiths here,” Aisling volunteered. “I think that means most souls are accounted for.”

  “I would guess that’s true,” Cormack agreed. “It’s not like Detroit, where we have innumerable souls and wraiths running rampant. If this group needs souls, perhaps they went after the reaper because they wanted to keep him from transferring souls to the home office.”

  “How does that work?” Booker asked.

  “It’s a complex procedure, but my understanding is that your reaper didn’t have much work. It was a cushy gig. You needed a reaper, obviously, but it was almost a retirement position of sorts for Adam.”

  “Did you know him?” I asked.

  “I met him a time or two. I can’t say he was much of a risk-taker. He did his job, stuck to the schedule. That’s probably why he fit in so well on the island. Either way, he’s dead. The home office is finding a replacement even as we speak. I knew Aisling was here, but I didn’t want her running around absorbing souls on her honeymoon. I agreed to pinch hit for a few days.”