“Yeah.”
“Muses will come for you in a bit to ask you questions, then take you back inside.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Something is going on around here,” he said to himself, as though he were trying to puzzle out the answer to the deaths—the murders. His eyes drifted over to me, taking in something I couldn’t place. “What were you looking at—back in the cage? Everyone else was looking at the body, but your eyes were on something else. Something on the other side of the ring.”
“Yeah…about that…”
“Let me guess. You can’t tell me.”
“I haven’t been told not to tell you, not that that would really matter, but even if I did tell you, it wouldn’t help.”
“What did you see?” he asked again, stopping right in front of me.
“A ghost,” I replied, quietly enough that only he would hear me. “She was angry—so angry. She screamed, and then that kid dropped to the mat.”
His face scrunched with confusion. “A ghost?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus…”
“Right? Dead people show up all around me, and they want things from me—things I don’t know how to give them.”
“Seems like this one didn’t need your help. Like she got what she wanted without you.”
“Yeah, but how? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Don’t ask me, ghost girl. That’s not my thing.”
As I tried to find an answer to my own question, I saw Muses approaching on my left, his face expressionless.
“Line up,” he said, his tone harsher than normal. “I’ll take you first.” He pointed at me, then grabbed my arm and dragged me off to the side of the building far away from where the others had been rounded up. I did everything I could not to wriggle out of his grasp.
Old habits died hard.
Once he was satisfied with our position, he put his hands on the side of my face, and I waited for the inevitable. But it never came. Instead, he simply asked me what had happened; the rest was an illusion for anyone watching. When he was satisfied with my answers, he hauled me back to the group standing by the door and threw me inside, hovering in the doorway for a moment.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he whispered. “I told you I could touch you without inspiring you.” Then he slammed the door in my face.
I turned around to see my brothers in the ring, awaiting my arrival. Not in the mood to wait another moment, Nico put his hands on the body, and I froze in place, my mind hijacked by the memories of the dead wolf. Much like the other time, there was nothing to glean from the experience other than he was from the Northside pack and seemed to have beef with his opponent. I crashed to the ground when it was done, then picked myself up.
“That was fucking useless,” Nico growled as I climbed the stairs to the ring.
“It was, but I think I know why,” I said. The two of them looked at me expectantly, so I continued. “I saw something tonight in the ring. Right before the kid got his neck broken, a ghost appeared. She was so angry…”
“What happened?” Alek asked, stepping closer to me.
“She screamed. It was soundless, but it was terrifying all the same—like it held a power to it somehow.”
“Did you feel power from her?” he pressed.
“No, but the nulls would kind of ruin that for me.”
Apparently they cannot part you from your ghostly draw…
An excellent point. One I hadn’t had time to think about.
“If the nulls disabled your powers, then the ghost shouldn’t have had any either, right?” Nico asked, distracting me from my thoughts. The question was less rhetorical and more an attempt to shut down the possibility that ghosts could operate outside the limitations of the living. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t so sure of that.
“I don’t know.”
“Well shit…”
“We need to find out as soon as possible,” Alek said, pulling out his phone. He walked away, barking orders at whoever was on the other end.
“He’s a bit riled up,” I said to Nico. He nodded in agreement.
“Maybe reliving these things is finally getting to him too.”
“That would make sense. I mean, he’s an empath. That’s hard enough on a daily basis. Adding this shit into the mix only makes it worse.”
“Seems like it. I’m sure he’ll sort it out soon. He’s good at keeping a lid on his shit.”
“Yeah,” I replied, not so convinced. “I guess so.”
Just as silence fell between Nico and me, the Fates and Muses walked in. Muses dragged me back outside to where the lineup had been. It had thinned out considerably, leaving only Murph and a dozen others. Muses put me at the end roughly and told me to keep my mouth shut. I had to keep reminding myself that it was all for show. My lip was bleeding from biting it to keep quiet.
“Now,” he said, turning his attention to the rest of the line, “the nulls need to step forward.” Five unremarkable men took a step forward in unison. It was then that I realized that Muses was at one hell of a disadvantage with them. He couldn’t make them tell him what he wanted to know, and I had no empath abilities to help him detect if anyone was nervous or lying or any other emotion that could have been helpful. In short, he was going to have to go old school on them.
The threat of bodily harm.
“Which of you can withdraw your fields?” Muses asked, walking along the line of them with his hands clasped behind his back. Two hands went up slowly. I recognized those two as having been stationed around the periphery of the room, positioned to keep the crowd powerless. “Which of you can turn them off entirely?” Another hand went up: another null from the periphery.
Muses turned his attention to the two whose hands remained unraised.
“Where were you positioned?” he asked them. The taller, thinner one wiped the sweat from his brow and answered.
“By the cage.”
The shorter, stockier one waited a second, the contempt in his expression plain in his profile. When Muses stepped closer to him, he spoke.
“Same as him.”
“Am I to assume, Murphy, that you stationed these two particular nulls there because they are unable to withdraw their fields as the others can?”
Murph nodded. “In order to be compliant with the PC’s rules, I put Stephen and Dex near the cage, so my worst-case scenario would be a brawl in the crowd if one of the nulls decided to get cute and fuck around with their powers.” Murph’s expression sobered for a minute. “I did that to avoid the very thing that’s happened.”
Muses’ eyes fell on the three nulls who’d raised their hands.
“Which of you is most powerful?”
A dark-skinned male stepped forward. “I am.”
“Tell me, can you nullify a null’s abilities? Are you strong enough for that?”
He swallowed hard. “I am. But I have to touch them to do it. I can’t do it from across the room.”
“Touch them,” Muses said, pointing to the two who had been stationed by the cage. The ones who couldn’t retract their fields.
“Sorry guys,” the powerful null said. Then he placed his hands on their shoulders and closed his eyes.
One of Muses’ hands clamped down on the side of each of their heads and he started in, asking all sorts of questions about the night—about their abilities—to confirm their stories. By the time he was finished, he looked irritated but satisfied.
“We’re shutting it down,” Muses announced. “The fight club can no longer be permitted.”
With that, he stalked off into the building.
The nulls scattered, clearly happy to be alive and no longer the objects of Muses’ scrutiny. Murph hovered for a moment before walking up to me.
“You need a ride?”
“No, I think Jenks is still inside. I’m going to go get him.”
I started toward the building, but Murph caught my arm, holding me back.
“You
don’t want to go in there. If they’ve got him, they aren’t letting him go. You feel me?” He pinned deadly serious eyes on me. It was clear that Murph thought Jenkins was going down—and he was trying to keep me out of it.
“Then I’ll take his Jeep,” I said with a wry smile.
“Smart girl. I’ll see you around, Sapphire.”
With that, he walked off into the darkness toward the lot where the few remaining cars were parked. I followed behind him, getting into Jenkins’ vintage Jeep and pretending to try and hotwire it. When everyone else was long gone, I darted back into the building, where a conversation about the night was well under way.
“Are you sure it’s best to shut it down?” Jenkins asked. The look of death he received from Muses was answer enough.
“He’s right,” I argued. “If it’s the ghost who’s after these guys, then she’ll just go after them somewhere else. At least here, we can monitor the fights. If I’m here, I can stop it before it goes too far. Then maybe I can figure out why she’s doing this. What she’s after.”
“Tell me, Sapphira. Have you suddenly mastered your communication with these apparitions?” The doubt in Muses’ tone was duly noted.
“No, but I’m getting better—”
“Then this ends. Tonight.”
“But—”
“It’s been decided. That decision is final.”
When I took in the looks on the Fates’ faces, I exhaled hard. They seemed to share Muses’ opinion on the matter. There’d be no convincing them.
“Sorry Phira,” Cy said, stepping toward me. “It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable, but it’s too risky.”
“Like letting these victims wander around until she finds a way to kill them isn’t?”
“Until we can find a connection of some sort—or ID your ghost—we don’t have much of a choice.”
I didn’t bother to respond. There was nothing left to say. Instead, I made my way outside, Jenkins right behind me, to where his Jeep was waiting. I hopped into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door.
“You want me to take you home?” he asked, his voice kind.
I pondered his question for a second before shaking my head.
“No.”
“Then back to the bar it is,” he said, firing up the Jeep.
“I have something I need to do before I clock back in, but it shouldn’t take too long, if that’s cool.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you,” I said. When he didn’t start in on me right away, I turned to find glowing amber eyes looking at me in the darkness.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both. It’s for your own good.”
“I’ll decide what’s good for me.”
“And I’ll decide what I share with you,” I countered.
A low growl echoed through the vehicle. “Is it dangerous? What you’re going to do?”
“No, not especially, if that makes you feel better.”
He looked out the windshield, staring off at nothing. “It does.”
The car continued to idle for a moment, the loud rumble of the engine lulling us both. Then suddenly, he threw it into reverse and backed out faster than he should have. He put it into drive and peeled out, the acrid odor of burnt rubber clouding my sense of smell.
“In a hurry to get back? Worried the staff is skimming off the till?”
“I’m trying to keep my wolf in check. Driving fast helps.”
“And why is your wolf in such a hurry to come out?” I asked.
He shot me a sideward glance. “I take care of the people in my hood—I told you that.” He waited a moment to let me put two and two together. When I said nothing, he laid it all out there. “You work for me. We’re….friends now.”
“And you see me as one of those people to protect…”
He nodded.
I started to lay out all the reasons why that was ridiculous, then cut myself off. His struggle was apparent in his energy—anger and concern warring against reason. I’d felt the same from every member of my mother’s pack before. Instead of making things worse, I did what I could to help calm him. With a deep breath, I pressed against his energy, pushing a feeling of serenity against his frantic aura. After a minute, I could feel it relent, slowing and vibrating in unison with mine. I looked up to see wide but human eyes staring at me.
“Well you’re just full of tricks, aren’t you, half-breed?”
I shrugged. “I do what I can. And you know, I used to find singing quite calming when I struggled with my inner darkness. You should try it. It’ll keep you on the right side of the law.”
He laughed as I reached across to turn on the stereo. Seconds later, the two of us were singing our way back to the bar. I never did tell him where I intended to go when we arrived, and he didn’t bother asking again. No way was I telling him about Damascus. It was safer for us both.
Once we arrived, I waved goodbye and made my way up the side street to the bus stop. I could feel his eyes on me the whole way. The night may have been a clusterfuck on the whole, but one thing had become clear: Jenkins was on my side.
Chapter Eighteen
I didn’t even bother greeting Damascus as I trespassed on his property. Instead, I barreled across the barren lot toward his home, frazzled and in need of answers. Lots of them.
When he stepped out onto his porch, his glowing eyes met mine, then faded into his human ones as I neared. Maybe I was putting off enough of a ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe that even he thought twice about it. Or maybe he didn’t perceive me as a threat.
“Can ghosts manipulate the living?” I asked, storming up the stairs to where he stood. He looked at me with great curiosity, assessing something in my expression before answering.
“Manipulate them how?”
“Like, could a ghost compel someone to kill someone else? Or kill them using someone else? Like a possession or something?”
Silence.
“Could it somehow undo a null’s effects?”
More silence.
“Could it target the living for retribution?”
Maddening silence.
“Are you just going to fucking stare at me or—”
“Maybe.” That was his only reply.
“Maybe you’re just going to fucking stare at me?”
“Maybe to your questions.”
Holy. Shit.
“So you’re telling me that the dead can potentially overpower the will of the living?”
“I have known it to happen on rare occasion.”
“Who else knows this? Because the PC sure doesn’t.”
“The PC is not as wise in all matters as they would have you think. Knowledge died with many of their kind. Those that remain are a fraction of their former number.”
“Okay, fine. Ghosts can do shit the PC didn’t think they could. Great. But how do I know which ones can and which can’t?”
“Why do you think one has done this?”
I hesitated, not wanting to share information about the PC’s work, but then I realized he’d probably heard about Ward’s death already. It’d only be a matter of time before news of the most recent fight club victim reached his reclusive doorstep. The supernatural community was good like that. They loved a juicy story as much as bored housewives.
“Because I saw one tonight—right before a werewolf was killed.”
“How did he die?”
“Broken neck due to a haymaker in a fight.”
“So someone living killed him?”
“Technically yes, but—”
“But you suspect it goes deeper than that? Is that what you felt?”
I considered his question, then shook my head.
“Not so much felt, no. But there was something about this ghost. Something animated and angry and terrifying. She screamed at me—”
“Screamed? At you specifically?”
“I mean, there was no sound, but if there had been, I imagine it
would have shattered glass.”
“And she screamed at you?”
Again, I stopped to ponder his question. Had she been looking at me when she’d screamed? Or had she been looking at the fighters? Or the victim specifically? I just couldn’t recall. It had all happened so fast.
“I can’t remember,” I replied, feeling frustration grow in my gut. “Why does that matter?”
“It matters more than you could possibly know.”
“So enlighten me, big guy.”
He indicated the door to his home, and I followed him in. The inside was as sparse as ever. The decorative motif of wood on wood held strong. It was more like a cabin than a rail yard building.
The small kitchen set was the only place to sit, so I took a chair and propped my feet up on the table. One sharp sideward glare from Damascus, and I took them down. I made a mental note not to do that again.
“It matters, daughter of the PC, because there are beings out there that are far more powerful than others; a fact that I am certain you’re more than aware of, given your lineage. This is true in death as well. There are those who carry that power over with them. Ghosts—though all but forgotten in our world—can pose a threat unlike any other. For how does one kill something that is already dead?”
Excellent question. One I hoped he planned on answering ASAP. When he didn’t, I played along.
“You can’t?”
A small tug at the corner of his mouth, hinting at a smile, nearly knocked me off my seat. I didn’t think the troll had a sense of humor.
“Not by conventional means, no. There is no standard way to eliminate them. Each ghost presents its own challenges in that regard.”
“Great, so you’re saying I have a homicidal ghost with an axe to grind that isn’t easily taken out?”
“No.”
“You’re saying I need to find out who the ghost is so I can figure out how to take her out?”
“No.”
“You’re killin’ me here, smalls. Could you maybe just tell me what I need to know without me having to drag it out of you?”
“You drag nothing out of me. I say what I say because it is what needs to be said.”
“Fabulous. I got it. It’s your show. So you were saying…?”
“While I have said that these ghosts pose a potential problem, I did not say they all needed to be eliminated. Your ghost may or may not have done what you think she has.”
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