Graveyard Druid: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (The Colin McCool Paranormal Suspense Series Book 2)

by M. D. Massey

  “Hi, Colin.” Sabine sat curled up in a chair, reading a trashy gossip mag and pointedly minding her own business. She didn’t bother looking up as I entered.

  “Hi, Sabine. Bells, I thought you were Portuguese?”

  “Galician. The dialects are similar. Did she threaten you?”

  I nodded. “With bodily harm.”

  “Well, she didn’t break you, so she must like you.” Bells patted the bed by her side. “Come, sit with me.”

  Sabine looked up from her magazine. “If you two lovebirds are going to start smooching, I believe I’ll take my leave.”

  Bells cocked her head at Sabine, her brow creasing. “You can stay, Sabine. No one’s chasing you away.”

  “No, I think it’s time to go. I’ll leave you two to—well, whatever you’re about to do.” She walked out without another word.

  “Bells, give me a second.” I followed Sabine out, jogging to catch up to her. She didn’t slow as I fell in step at her side. Finally, she pulled to a halt at the stairwell exit. “Thanks for keeping an eye on Bells.”

  “I did it for you, not for her. Although she’s not nearly as annoying as I remembered. By the way, there’s something off about her mother. She’s not fae. But she’s not exactly human either, that’s for sure.”

  “Hmm, good to know. Just in case she attempts an impromptu beheading or castration the next time I see her.”

  “Just watch yourself around her.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” I tried to ask the question without making it sound pathetic. I failed.

  “You’re not very good at any of this, are you?” she asked.

  “Uh-uh. Not one bit.”

  She smirked. “Well, it’s a damned good thing you’re cute, McCool. Because charm just isn’t your thing.”

  Sabine stood on tiptoe to kiss me on the cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

  She opened the door and headed into the stairwell, and my brain caught up too late to say something meaningful and appropriate. Smooth, Colin. Real smooth.

  I yanked the door open just as it had almost closed, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can meet for coffee or something.”

  “Maybe,” she replied, without turning around. I watched her head down the stairs with her eyes focused anywhere but on me.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, to no one in particular.

  Bells was both happy and relieved to see me. She didn’t remember much of our previous conversation, but she had recalled enough details to be concerned about my safety while I was gone. Sabine had only barely kept her from jumping out of her hospital bed to gear up and come help.

  “So, you solved the city’s necromancer problem, all by your lonesome. I bet Gunnarson was pissed when he found out you didn’t get killed.”

  “Not quite all alone. I had a squad of trolls and a quarter-ton of angry Maori at my back. But yeah, Gunnarson was visibly disappointed when he saw me.”

  She wrinkled her nose and squinted. “What’s the deal with Hemi, anyway? Ever find out why he’s all magically tattooed and stuff?”

  “When I ask about it he says, ‘It’s family business, eh?’ and changes the subject. So I’ve stopped asking.”

  “Seems like something you’d want to know, being as you two are best buds now and all.”

  I chuckled. “Speaking of which, what’s the deal with your mom?”

  She dropped her eyes and tugged on a snag poking up from the bedspread. “Next topic, please.”

  “Fair enough. I think I owe you an apology.”

  I proceeded to explain about what had happened with Jesse, and how that made me feel. I was completely honest with her about everything. About how good it felt to see Jesse, how in the moment I wanted so badly to give up so I could be with her again, and how guilty I felt about the whole thing.

  Bells just sat there and listened the entire time, not saying a word. She didn’t look angry, but tears welled in her eyes by the time I finished.

  “Well, thanks for sharing that with me. For a while there I was sure I wouldn’t have to compete with a ghost anymore, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Bells. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “The fact you did says a lot. And it’s to be expected that you still have feelings for her. I mean, this girl was your first love, and from what I gather she was meant to be the love of your life. I’m jealous, sure—but it also hurts me to know you had that taken from you prematurely. Don’t forget, I was there for most of the aftermath.”

  I squeezed her hand, gently. “I haven’t forgotten. You helped keep me sane, Bells.”

  Her mouth screwed up in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t exactly call it sanity. More like a day by day struggle to hold it all together.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.” I held onto her hand, refusing to let go. “I really do care about you—you know that, right?”

  “I know. But until you complete this great mission or whatever you and Jesse were supposed to fulfill, I’m always going to be competing with her memory, real or imagined. And just how am I supposed to compete against that?”

  I stayed with Bells until after visiting hours, and we talked until I got chased from the room by the nursing staff. But as far as the topic of Jesse was concerned, there wasn’t much else to say. I knew something delicate and precious was at risk between us, but I had no idea how to stop loving Jesse.

  I thought about it as I drove around town in the Gremlin, and finally decided to stop by Luther’s. I knew he’d be up—and besides, I wanted to give him an update on how things had gone.

  When I entered the coffee shop, he was behind the counter with one of his staff, serving drinks for the late night crowd. He noticed me immediately and pulled off his apron, laying it on the counter.

  “Already heard about your heroics last night. C’mon upstairs, I have something for you.”

  I followed him up to his apartment, now empty of guests and spare and spotless as usual.

  “You look troubled, my friend. Beer or whiskey?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Luther didn’t really drink it, but he always had the good stuff on hand. I watched as he pulled out a bottle of Hirsch Reserve, pouring me a generous two fingers. I gasped, and he patted my hand as he pushed the glass into it.

  “Trust me, you’ve earned it. And besides, I know girl trouble when I see it, honey. Now, have a seat and tell me all about it.”

  “Well, the necromancer is gone now,” I said as I took a seat at his breakfast bar. I explained the entire gory episode, with Luther only interrupting once or twice to clarify the odd detail. It took the better part of a half-hour to tell the whole story. After I finished my account, Luther poured me another $250 shot of bourbon, commenting as he poured.

  “Hmmm—I’ll need to send a rep to the troll funeral. Those things can get pretty wild. By the way, don’t drink their grog. You’ll wake up married to a troll maiden.”

  I held my tongue, recalling how everyone had been razzing me this whole time. Could it be? Naw. I chased the thought from my mind.

  “Now, tell me about your girl problems,” he said.

  So, I did.

  Five minutes later, Luther let out a low whistle. “My my, but you’ve gotten yourself in one fine pickle. Mercy, mercy, me.”

  “Any advice?”

  He graced me with a sympathetic look. “Sugar, I’ve been alive for a long, long time. Not as long as Finn or Maeve, but long enough. And you want to know what I’ve learned?”

  I waited, and he took a sip of my bourbon before he continued.

  “Rule one—you take love where you can find it, if it’s real. Rule two—when it’s time to go, you always leave your lover better off than when you found them. And rule three? You never break a young girl’s heart. Not if you can help it.”

  I slugged the rest of the bourbon, immediately regretting that I ha
dn’t taken the time to savor it. It’d be a while before I drank something that pricey again.

  “Thanks, Luther. I appreciate the advice.”

  He walked me to the door and gave me a quick hug.

  “You’ll be fine, and I’m sure you’ll do right by that girl. Now, I almost forgot.” He handed me a thick envelope. “Your fee, in cash. Don’t deposit it or you’ll end up in trouble with the law. And don’t get pulled over with it, or else you’ll lose it to the cops—and then I’ll have to get it back for you.”

  I resisted the urge to look inside the envelope, and instead pocketed it inside my coat. “Thanks, Luther.”

  “Austin’s vampire community thanks you. Now, go get some rest, kid, you look like hell.”

  Just as Luther had promised, the troll wake was rowdier than the party after my fight with Guts. Thankfully, Luther sent a rep, along with a few cases of top shelf vodka, so I was able to avoid drinking the troll’s grog. Still, after three rounds of individual toasts to each troll who had fallen, I was well and properly hammered.

  That’s when Guts came walking up with a troll maiden, who carried a small bundle swaddled in leather and burlap. She smiled at me demurely, and Guts clapped me solidly on the back as he walked up, causing me to spill my drink.

  “Druid! Now good time to show you wife and son. You look, see how handsome half-troll become.”

  “Aw, Guts, I didn’t know you were married? And a kid, too?”

  He smiled broadly. “No. Not my wife and babe. Is one you and she made.”

  Guts grabbed the troll maiden gently by the arm and pushed her toward me. By now we’d gathered a crowd, and I was standing in stunned silence, not sure what to say or do. I’d fathered a troll-child? How fast did troll babies gestate? And how in the hell was I going to explain this to my mom?

  “Um—I—well. Ahem. I don’t know what to say.” I felt my face burning. The sky started spinning, and suddenly I wanted to puke.

  “What, you no like troll wife?” Guts asked, crossing his arms and pulling himself to his full height. “Maybe you not know, we mate for life.”

  “I really don’t mean any offense by this, Guts, but I think I’m going to be sick.”

  The trolls standing around me all stared, with plenty of furrowed brows and fingers tapping weapons menacingly. Then, Guts and his crew burst out laughing.

  “Ha ha, joke on you. You no have troll wife, she too pretty for you!”

  The entire crowd joined in, and soon they were all laughing, pointing, poking, and prodding. The troll maiden turned out to be Guts’ sister, who had been in on the joke the whole time. Guts had wanted to prank me as a way to regain tribal honor after his lost fight. It seemed that trolls liked a good prank, and they appreciated the long game as well.

  I puked in the bushes nearby, for good measure. Then I found Guts as he was jabbering in trollish with his buddies and yukking it up.

  “Okay, okay—I can be a good sport. But how did you get everyone else in on it?” Guts scratched his head in confusion. “You know, the whole thing about the troll musk, and marking me as her mate?”

  His eyes widened as he nodded slowly. “Oh, you really get troll musk on you. But you no remember kissing Guts’ sister. Too much troll brew.”

  With that revelation I immediately ran for the bushes again, which the trolls found unbelievably hilarious.

  Two days later, I pulled the Gremlin up in front of the local pack’s clubhouse. I had a score to settle with the Dark Druid, and to do that I needed to be able to control my dark side. That would give me access to the Eye’s power, if only temporarily. But the next time we met, I swore it would be enough.

  And I knew of one person who could help me in that regard.

  Samson was sitting on the front steps when I arrived. Somehow, this didn’t surprise me at all.

  He remained seated as I walked up, sipping a Shiner despite the cold. “So, you ready to take me up on my offer?”

  “If the offer still stands.”

  He took a slug of beer. “It does. What’s good for the druids is good for the Pack. Always has been, always will be. But it ain’t gonna be easy, I can tell you that.”

  “Figured as much.”

  He chuckled. “You only think you know, but you don’t. Pack life ain’t easy. Let me give you another chance to back out. Are you ready to suffer, like you’ve never suffered before?”

  I thought back to my training with Finnegas. Some of it had been absolutely brutal. Then I thought back to the pain I’d felt after losing Jesse. Honestly, how hard could whatever he had planned for me be?

  “I am.”

  He finished off his beer. “One last chance. Because once you start this, there’s no quitting. You either learn to control the beast, or you die. Are—you—certain?”

  I nodded.

  “Say it. You have to say the words.”

  I hesitated, but only for a second or two. “I’m certain.”

  “Good, then it’s done.” Samson set his bottle down on the concrete steps.

  Three questions, three chances to back out. Well, that was encouraging. I kicked a rock with the toe of my boot.

  “When do we start?”

  On cue, the pack walked out from behind the building, flowing out in a half circle around me. Cutting off all escape. Samson chuckled and grinned.

  “We start now.”

  This concludes the second volume in the Colin McCool Junkyard Druid series… but there’s more Colin waiting for you at my website! Go to MDMassey.com now to download your FREE novel, Druid Blood: A Junkyard Druid Prequel. When you do, you’ll be subscribed to my newsletter, and you’ll be the first to find out when the next Colin McCool novel, Moonlight Druid, hits bookstore shelves.