by Celia Kyle
“I’m sure this won’t be too bad,” Jezze mumbled as she dug through her purse. She tugged out a few vials and tucked them in her bra.
“Yeah,” I agreed but I wasn’t sure I believed myself. My wolf was twitchy and grumbling just beneath the surface of my skin.
“Seriously.” She pulled out another little baggy. “A little undead. Nothing we can’t handle.”
“Uh-huh.” I pinched my lower lip. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, but the closer we got to the morgue, the more my gut twisted.
We pulled into the morgue’s parking lot and into a spot. I followed the mayor into the building, Jezze on my heels. Men in dark suits stood around the building, sunglasses shielding their eyes even though it was the middle of the night. I knew none of the tweens or dems would work for the asshole and he was too evil for gels to lend a hand. Private human security, then. Poor bastards. Working for Boyd would get them killed.
“It’s down here.” Boyd pointed to a set of stairs that led to the basement level. The recently deceased were stored in refrigerated cabinets kept in the lower level. “I think there’s only one, but I didn’t go down there to check myself.”
I snorted. “Right.” I drew my swords, palming the perfectly balanced weapons. “Did you block all of the exits?”
“That’s the first thing we did. I’m not an idiot.”
An argument lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. Insulting the mayor would only stir up trouble I didn’t need. Maybe later.
Jezze and I headed down the darkened stairwell. Most of the lights were out except for a few flickering fluorescent bulbs. We remained silent, watchful, and wary of what we’d find at the bottom. And what we found… It was a scene even more bloody and chaotic than the zombie movie we’d been watching less than an hour ago.
The refrigerated cabinets hung open, a few bloody corpses lying on the rolling tables inside, their flesh slashed with claw marks. The others… empty. I hoped it was because the morgue was having a slow day. Not because the bodies decided to get up and walk out.
Two fresher corpses lay on the ground near the center of the room, both clad in white lab coats stained red with blood. Their skin had retained a little flush, as if life hadn’t left them too long ago. I stepped around them, careful not to step in the puddle of blood that surrounded the bodies. I nodded to the corpses, silently asking Jezze to do her thing.
She crouched by the bodies and sprinkled a dusting of mystical powder over them while she whispered the words of her spell. We couldn’t be sure what killed the humans, but if it was something that turned its victims into the undead, we needed to stop them from rising again. As long as it wasn’t too late, Jezze’s magic would do the job.
Although, if it was too late… I’d have to take care of them the old-fashioned way. I was suddenly sad that I hadn’t brought my trusty Louisville Slugger on the trip.
While Jezze worked, I stalked the long row of refrigerated cabinets, peeking into each one. Most seemed to have been pulled open from the outside. Most, but not all. One near the end was mangled—twisted off its hinges as if something had busted out.
I used the tip of my sword to nudge the broken door aside and peer into the gloom. The tray inside was covered with a bloody white sheet, but there was no sign of who—or what—had been in there.
I leaned in and sniffed, letting my inner wolf come out to play. The stench of blood made the hairs on the back of my neck rise and the wolf pushed a low growl from my throat. Dark. Putrid. Evil. I sniffed a few more times to make sure I had the scent memorized.
I had just confirmed what the mayor told me. I had a case of the living dead.
Goody.
I followed the scent toward the back of the space—the loading dock—but the bay doors were closed tight. No hint of blood or decay filled the air. No way the undead beastie escaped that way.
I moved on, quietly padding to the bathroom. I nudged the door open with my sword and peered into the darkened room. Thanks to my werewolf blood, I had no trouble seeing in the dark. A quick scan showed me there was no one in the small area.
I turned to move on, but another scent caught my wolf’s attention. The fresh, crisp aroma of the outside—clear air with a dash of car exhaust.
I sighed and moved deeper into the bathroom. I tilted my head back and my gaze zeroed in on a small window near the ceiling that led to the ground level. Luckily for me, it was shattered. I glanced at the tile floor. No hint of glass on the ground which meant it had been broken from the inside.
“Shit,” I muttered and stomped to the bathroom door. I leaned out and shouted. “Jezze! It got out through the window. I’m in pursuit!”
Her answering yell reached me just as I got to the wall once more. I’d have to chase the thing down myself. Jezze needed to stick behind and work her mojo on every corpse in the morgue. Just to be sure they wouldn’t have any walking undead later. I doubted the mayor would be all that happy with a half-dozen dead bodies climbing the stairs in search of human flesh.
Then again, I’d pay to see him in the middle of a zombie-induced panic attack. Could be fun.
I tossed my swords through the window and then jumped and grasped the ledge. Broken glass scraped my skin while I hauled my fluffy ass outside. The stinging pain zipped through me and I grunted as I crawled through the jagged opening. If my leathers got ripped, the city was buying me another jacket and pants. Good ones. Not the cheap stuff.
I followed the scent through the shadow-cloaked streets, the area silent as if the world held its breath, afraid to make a sound. I reached a nearby park and scanned the landscape. It was completely deserted though I was sure there should at least be a drug dealer or two hanging around. It seemed even the criminals knew something was up.
I stopped at the edge of the park, swords in hand, and tipped my head back. I sniffed the air. The scent had become muddled at the edge of the park, but I knew I was almost on top of the creature.
A flicker of bluish light drew my gaze, a distant glow in the darkness. Someone’s lost cell phone? Ha! If only. My wolf growled and paced, glaring at the hovering glimmer. It didn’t want to get anywhere near that hint of blue.
Which was why I headed in that direction, of course. And when I got there… Yeah, it was worse than I’d anticipated.
The walking corpse stood in the middle of the park, wearing the bloody, tattered remains of a white hospital gown. Its skin wasn’t the normal paleness of a dead body but held a hint of light blue. Its eyes glowed and shimmered in the darkness with that same mystical blue.
Magic. Dark. Evil.
It held another body in his grasp, limp and immobile. The shimmer to the boy’s skin and pointed tips of his ears told me his species—elf. He looked like no more than a teen, but that didn’t mean much when it came to elves. He was probably decades old.
The undead monster held him with claw-tipped fingers, nails digging into the boy’s skin. The creature bowed over the boy, their faces nearly touching. Unfortunately, instead of stumbling across some erotic live-action porn, I had to watch the monster suck out the elf’s life energy.
I would have preferred live porn.
A thin, icy blue stream of light flowed from the elf’s mouth. Manna—the supernatural energy that flowed through the bodies of tweens. With a continuous inhale, the undead sucked it from the boy, his glimmering skin fading to a flat white while his body became limper with each passing moment.
Unholy shit.
I didn’t know what kind of creature could do such a thing. It looked like a ghoul, body shriveled and with sharp claws and nails typical of their kind. But I’d never encountered a ghoul that could feed on the life force of somebody.
Well, if someone brought the ghoul to life, I could kill it. Hopefully.
“Hey, fugly!” I called out as I rushed forward, blades firmly in hand. The ghoul swung his attention to me, ending its connection with the elf. The blue flow of energy faded and the elf coughed, but his complexion tol
d me he still hovered on the verge of death.
The ghoul dropped the elf and rushed toward me, claws extended. Sickly blue light streamed along their length, leaving a trail of energy in the air with each move the creature made. I called on my own dark power, reaching into the flames of Hell and gathered the flickering heat that resided there. I channeled the hellfire into my blades and both swords erupted in a shower of red flames hot enough to melt steel and cook undead flesh with a single touch.
The ghoul rushed nearer and I slashed at his decaying body. I expected my blow to take his arm off. Instead, he grabbed my blade and brushed it aside as if it was nothing more than an annoyance. Okay, ghouls were strong—stronger than humans and some tweens—but it shouldn’t have been able to match my strength.
Again. Unholy shit.
The hellfire scorched his skin, but the blue light encasing his body appeared to protect him from the worst of the heat. His unexpected deflection threw me off balance.
I’d never admit it, but sometimes Papa Letholdus was right. I was a cocky, lazy soldier.
The ghoul closed in, slashing his deadly claws in my direction. I staggered back, parrying his strikes with my swords. The ghoul was fast. Faster than any damned shambling mound of flesh had any right to be. His movements were a blur of blue energy and I had to fight to keep my guard up with his attacks. I shuffled back, trying to put distance between us so I could recover my balance and go on the offensive.
There was something else in its eyes, too. An intelligence—awareness—that no ghoul should possess.
I’d seen this kind of weird behavior in zombies in the past—zombies that’d broken into my home and trashed my shit.
I’d chopped all their heads off so that was fun. Okay, I had a little help, but we weren’t talking about that, were we?
No, my focus needed to remain on the ghoul, and whoever it was that controlled the inhuman thing. It was the only explanation for its cunning and determination. I had to fight to protect myself, but whoever controlled the ghoul didn’t have to worry about being hurt. The ghoul was just a puppet to get to me.
It kept pressing the attack and I was forced to remain on the defensive the entire time.
A deep growl built in my chest and rose along my throat. It had backed me against a tree and I was running out of places to go. The ghoul slashed at me again. I parried with one blade then used the other to hack through one of the low-hanging branches overhead. The branch broke free and clobbered the ghoul, distracting him for just a moment, but it was long enough for me to take a breath and hack at the ghoul with all my strength. I dropped my blade through his flesh and chopped one of his arms clean off—the hunk of rotted flesh tumbling to the ground.
The ghoul squealed and slashed at me with its other claw. I tried to deflect—tried, dammit—but it was too fast. Its claw scraped my side and sliced through my shirt (one of my favorites too, On High dammit) and into my flesh. It was a shallow wound, nothing more than a scratch, but it burned like a motherfucker.
I growled in pain and fury, my wolf snarling, and swung my other sword. The hellfired metal sliced through its neck and its head rolled across the grass, leaving a trail of dark blood and blue light in its wake. But the eyes … Those eyes seemed to stare at me—intent, unflinching, and familiar?
Like it knew me.
Then the energy faded and the glow disappeared. The ghoul was nothing more than a deformed hunk of dismembered flesh.
I pressed one hand to my side and dropped my sword while I stumbled forward. I bent and checked on the fallen elf, his chest slowly rising and falling with rattling breaths. He was alive, but just barely.
I released my side long enough to dig my cell phone out of my pocket. I dialed Sorsha’s number—she was a healer I’d worked with in the past. She’d know what to do.
The moment she answered, I spoke. “Sorsha, I’ve got a hurt kid here. Multiple lacerations and a…” I glanced at the unmoving body. “A ghoul of some kind was sucking on his life force. He needs help fast.”
“Where?”
I gave her the address of the park.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I ended the call and flopped to the ground beside the elven boy. Good. Help was on the way. There wasn’t anything I could do for him, but Sorsha would work her magic. Then I could go home and…
And fuck my side hurt. The wolf still hadn’t healed the damage and I lifted my shirt to look at the wound. It hadn’t felt deep when the ghoul scratched me, and a quick glance confirmed that it wasn’t bad. But it still bled. It should…
Well, I knew what it should be doing and I knew what it shouldn’t be doing. Like, it shouldn’t have a faint streak of blue light dancing along its edges.
It looked like I needed Sorsha’s help as well.
Goody.
Chapter Two
Sorsha strode into the park not more than fifteen minutes later, her long skirt billowing behind her and a messenger bag that I knew was filled with herbals and potions bouncing against her hip with every step. Fierce determination filled the woman from head to toe and I knew that Sorsha-the-Healer had arrived, not Sorsha-My-Friend.
The healer flicked a quick glance at me, a quick and dirty triage, before she focused on the elf. She knelt at his side and got to work while I stayed right where I’d landed. I tried to tell myself it was because I was staying out of the way. I definitely wasn’t staying put because exhaustion had slowly rolled over me.
Caith Morningstar didn’t do something so mortal as get tired. If she did, her Uncle Luc—aka Lucifer, High Lord of Hell—would never let her forget it.
Sorsha placed her hands above the boy’s body, palms close but not touching him as she examined him with all her senses. Her hands glowed brightly as she murmured words from an ancient language that tickled my mind but that I couldn’t fully recall.
She delved into her messenger bag and pulled out her herbs. She crushed several between her palms and then stroked the elf’s skin, rubbing the dried leaves into the worst of his wounds. She mixed others into her thermos and I forced myself to move, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get the liquid into the kid without my help.
With a groan, I stumbled forward, and dropped to my knees at the kid’s side. Walking was not a good idea. Maybe I’d just crawl everywhere from now on. That sounded like an excellent fucking plan.
I held the elf’s head up while she poured the mixture down his throat. He coughed and sputtered, struggling against my grip, but I didn’t let him move. We’d all had to suck down Sorsha’s nasty brews at some point. It was like a rite of passage or some shit. The kid had just joined the “Sorsha Tried to Kill Me with Weeds” club.
“Is he going to be okay?” I glanced at Sorsha and then refocused on the boy. His breathing gradually leveled out to a regular rhythm, but he still looked pale—even for an elf. As for his cuts… they still had a slight shimmer of blue light flickering across them.
You know, like the cut in my side. Goody.
“His aura is weak.” She sighed. “That… thing,” she glanced at the dismembered ghoul’s corpse. “Did more than just wound his body. His aura will need to be cleansed before his body can rebuild his manna.”
“You can do that, right?” I raised my eyebrows. “I mean, you can heal him?” Even though he’d survived the attack, I knew that the ghouls’ taint could work to transform a living person. If he wasn’t cleansed, he could still end up turning into one of those things.
Sorsha didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she closed her eyes and touched the boy’s forehead, fingers sliding over his cheeks and throat, and then stopping over his heart. “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen something like this.” She shook her head. “This isn’t the touch of a normal ghoul. It’s something more… insidious. I can keep him stable for now. His aura should recover over time as long as he’s kept stable and comfortable.”
“Good.” Very good. I pulled up the side of my shirt to flash my own wound. “So
you can help me too, right?”
Her eyes widened and she whispered a low curse. “Damn.”
Perfect. “That doesn’t sound good. I was looking for an ‘Of course, Caith.’”
Sorsha reached for me, palms glowing as they had when she’d worked on the elf. Except the glow wasn’t as bright when she examined me. That had to be good, right? If I was just as bad as the kid, her mojo would have to work harder.
Yeah, I was totally fine. I had this beat.
“I need to get you to the clinic.”
Or not.
“No.” I shook my head and gestured for her to back away. “I can’t be bed bound. I’ve got to make sure there’s no more of these wandering around and turning Orlando into a Lunchable.” I tipped my chin toward the ghoul. “And I need to chat with the mayor. Then I have to get back to Bry. The ghoul didn’t kill me, but my kid will if I don’t make it home like I promised.”
Sorsha just sighed while she cleaned my wound and rubbed some nasty smelling herb mixture into the scratch. She covered it with a bandage of golden leaves and then smeared a different poultice on top. She handed me a cup of the same herbal nastiness she’d given the elf. “Drink this.”
I gagged before I even got the cup to my mouth, knowing it was going to be more disgusting than I could imagine. Without waiting another heartbeat, I brought it to my lips and swallowed it all in one gulp. It tingled a bit on the way down, a nice warmth almost like human hard liquor.
Which made me think of some nice Hell spirits and how they’d make me forget about the ache in my side.
“It’s your choice,” she said. “But if you don’t rest and let me finish my healing, it will only get worse.”
I groaned. I knew she was right even if I didn’t want to admit it aloud. I hated telling someone they were right because that usually meant I was wrong. No woman wants to ever be wrong. I mentally shuddered.
But as much as I wanted to get back to Bry, I didn’t want to turn into a flesh-eating monster who might decide that the kid was a nice midnight snack.