Forgotten Ghosts

by Eric Asher

  “That’s her name now,” her dad said with a sigh. “Just have to get used to it.”

  I pulled the door shut behind me, the punched-out metal screen dragging and squeaking along the concrete until it clicked closed.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Lori asked. I frowned at her for a moment before shaking my head. For years, I’d been friends with this family’s daughter, with the ghost of their daughter. In all that time, I’d always thought of them as Vicky’s mom and Vicky’s dad. It was strange to think of them as something else, as their given names. It felt right, but it also brought their loss crashing back down onto my shoulders.

  “I’m good, thanks,” I said quietly.

  “Vicky’s room is down the hall to the right,” James said. “It’s right at the end. Why don’t you talk to her?”

  Getting a chance to speak to Vicky alone sounded a hell of a lot better than ambushing the whole family at once. I hadn’t seen Vicky in person in over a year.

  I nodded. Mirrors mounted on the wall to the right caught my attention before I turned the corner into the hallway. The house wasn’t very big. It appeared to be three modest bedrooms, two barely large enough to comfortably fit a twin-size bed, and the other the master bedroom. I froze in the hallway for a moment. I’d done more than fail Vicky. Was I really going to risk taking her away from a real home? What the hell was I thinking?

  Jasper purred on my shoulder. I reached up and scratched the furball between his giant black eyes. The deep trill woke me from my reverie, and I started down the hall again, my boots silent on the old beige carpet.

  Even if James hadn’t told me which bedroom was Vicky’s, it wouldn’t have been hard to figure it out. The door stood open, but I still stopped and knocked on the frame. I stared across the room at a wall covered in newspaper articles and photos that had clearly been printed off the net on a cheap printer. Some of the pages were wrinkled, unable to maintain their form under the weight of the ink. Pictures of Nudd hung in one section of the wall, while red string tied between tacks trailed to an ethereal drawing of what I was quite sure was Hern. I traced those lines and found the Morrigan and Edgar and Camazotz and the dark-touched. Farther down the wall was a photo I didn’t remember taking. Four of us huddled in the library above Death’s Door—me and Happy and Foster, with Vicky asleep on one of the overstuffed chairs.

  But the warm feeling I got from that photo, of seeing Vicky and Happy together, fled when I saw the photo next to it.

  I stepped into the room, vaguely aware of Vicky sitting at the desk on the nearest wall, refusing to believe what I was seeing. But as I grew closer, there was no doubt. It was her, and a fairy, and two dragons.

  Rage like I hadn’t felt in months boiled in the pit of my stomach. “Drake,” I snarled.

  “At least he returns phone calls,” Vicky said, pulling her headphones off.

  The growing fire in my gut fizzled. “You have Drake’s phone number? The right hand of the Mad King? Murderer, deceiver, and number one Fae who ought not be trusted?”

  Vicky gave me a half smile that lit up her eyes. The only word I could think to describe it was sarcastic. “Some of the fairies say the same thing about me. So it seemed like a good fit.”

  “Fairies? Plural? How is this keeping a low profile?” I asked as I gestured uselessly at the photo of her and the infuriatingly charming-looking Drake. “Is he why you were flying your dragon around downtown? I didn’t pull you out of the Burning Lands so you could live an extremely short life. I yanked you back so you could have a normal life!”

  Vicky’s mouth pulled into a flat line. She held her hand up, curled it into a fist, and lit a brilliant soulsword.

  I blinked at the dense blade.

  “Not one call, Damian,” Vicky said, holding up the index finger of her free hand. “Is this normal?” She gestured to the soulsword before letting it snap out of existence. “You left me with a dragon and fragments of memories.”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t get those back. Kid, you know now I can’t be around you. It’s not safe.”

  “Bullshit. If there’s a weak link in the Devil’s Knot that binds us together, it’s not me.”

  I felt a light pressure on my shoulder as Jasper compressed and launched himself across the room into Vicky’s lap. She scratched the furball between the eyes, and with her legs crossed and her shoulders back, she could’ve been mistaken for a Bond villain. It was then that I noticed the black clothes, the antique enamel skull pin that adorned her left shoulder, the dark eyeliner.

  “Are you a goth?” I asked, completely losing the grip on my anger again. The kid could disarm me in a moment. I wondered subconsciously if that was really why I had been avoiding her.

  “I’m undead,” she said. “It seems fitting.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words felt inadequate. “I don’t want to put you at risk, but you’re exposed now.”

  She ran her fingers through Jasper’s fur. “It’s not your choice anymore. It hasn’t been your choice for the last year.”

  I frowned, fishing for the right way to apologize to her, to tell her how happy I was she was home, to tell her how much we all talked about her, to tell her she had another family at Death’s Door.

  Instead, I stood there like a mute idiot while the child—young woman, if I was being honest with myself—rose to her feet, walked over to me, and put her arms around me.

  “I missed you,” Vicky said.

  “Missed you too, kid.” I failed to fight back the tremor in my voice.

  “Next time, just talk to me. Don’t make me ride a dragon through the Arch to get your attention.”

  Jasper trilled on her shoulder, and I let a tiny laugh slip.

  “Let’s go talk to the folks,” she said. “You could’ve at least responded to my dad’s letter. That was just rude.”

  “But I—” I started, remember the words of gratitude her father had written me. But how could I respond to that? What could I say? She grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the room, dragging me down the hallway while the realization dawned on me that I hadn’t gotten a single answer I was looking for.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A minute later, I was sitting in the living room, my back against a rather uncomfortably rigid floral-patterned chair. The family on the couch across from me looked like any other. A nuclear family, two parents with their arms around an irritated teenager and a fluffy dragon pacing back and forth on the back of the couch.

  Okay, so maybe they weren’t like any other family.

  I waited for them to say something until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Was there anything you wanted to talk about? Because I have a few things to tell you.”

  James glanced at his watch. “Let’s just give it another minute. Then we can say what needs to be said.”

  I frowned and looked at my own wrist before remembering I didn’t have a watch on. In fact, I almost never wore a watch. It was just one of those annoying things, if you see someone else check their watch, you glance down to check yours, even if you aren’t wearing one.

  I doubt it was more than another minute, even though it felt like an eternity. For a split second, the room shook like a rare Missouri earthquake had struck beneath our feet. Lori patted Vicky on the shoulder and stood up, heading for the front door. Voices drifted in from outside.

  Just as Lori cracked the door open, I heard the old New Orleans drawl of an irritated Cajun.

  “You crushed their petunias,” Zola said, not even trying to hide the exasperation in her voice.

  “These things can be hard to judge,” Aeros’s voice boomed back. “There are many rocks in this property, and I do apologize for moving the wrong ones.”

  “Crushed them flat,” Zola muttered. “Ah’m sorry about that, Lori.”

  Aeros crouched down until he was peering through the front door. “Greetings, Vicky. It is good to see your family doing well. I rather miss your visits with Shiawase.”

  Zola interrupted the rock. “I’ll
ride back with Damian. You head to the base. Make sure that fairy hasn’t stabbed anyone else.” Zola sighed and shook her head.

  “Be well,” Aeros said to no one in particular as he vanished into the ground once more. There was a brief rumbling as the sod closed over the hole and the mulch churned to cover the flattened petunias.

  It was about then I realized I was now standing, staring slack-jawed at Zola. “Zola! What the fuck?”

  “Language,” Lori said.

  My eyes flashed to Lori before returning to Zola as she stepped through the front door.

  “Ah asked them to call me when you showed up. Thought it might be best for everyone.”

  “It’s good to see you again,” James said.

  “Likewise.”

  “Again?” I felt like I’d accidentally skipped several chapters of a very important book. “What do you mean again?”

  “You know damn well what Ah mean by again, boy,” Zola snapped.

  Vicky blew out a slow breath. “Zola was worried my parents were going to flip out when my memories returned. The whole death resurrection now I’m a teenager thing. You remember that?”

  I blinked at Vicky. The friendly girl I’d come to love had turned into a miniature version of my unbelievably sarcastic sister. I was both horrified and impressed.

  Zola let out an exasperated breath. “Ah would not have put it so crudely, but yes, Ah spent some time with the family a couple weeks after Vicky came home. Wanted them to understand what happened, and Ah wanted Vicky to understand why you might not be around that much.” She stepped forward and poked a finger into my chest.

  “Ouch,” I said.

  I made my way back to the chair and watched as Vicky hopped up and hugged Zola. The things Zola sometimes did without me knowing, or without anyone knowing, surprised the hell out of me. She didn’t have to make time for these people. Zola had done enough with her life. She’d saved enough people, and the world was better for her work.

  “I just wanted to thank you,” James said. “The letter I sent you was never enough. Nothing could ever be enough.”

  “You gave us more time,” Lori said. “Every day has been a gift.”

  “I didn’t …” I started. “I couldn’t …”

  And I felt the dam breaking in my chest. That hopeless sense that I was going to tear this family apart again.

  I tried to speak, but no words would come. Moisture gathered at the edges of my eyes a split second before Zola’s palm cracked across my cheek.

  “This is why I’m here boy.” She stepped closer to me, and despite the difference in our height, she stared me down. “You may never think what you did was good enough, but it was better than that. You saved that girl, boy. And there is nothing more you could have done.”

  “Nothing,” James said, echoing Zola’s words.

  “I told you he’s stubborn,” Vicky said.

  I choked out a halfhearted laugh and smiled at the kid.

  She scratched behind her ear. “I know you felt you had to stay away. And I know I have to go with you now.”

  “Although that does lead me to a question,” Lori said. She exchanged a glance with James and wrung her hands. “If something happens to our daughter, and that means it happens to you, why exactly would you give her a dragon?”

  I laughed nervously. I wasn’t sure I had the best answer to that question. “Jasper’s a guardian. He kept me and my sister safe when we were kids, when my powers first started … causing issues. And a couple years ago, he helped us fight off the fairies that destroyed so much on the east coast. You guys know the whole story?”

  “Once my memory started coming back,” Vicky said, “it wasn’t like I was going to keep it from them. I don’t think they were any safer not knowing.”

  “Certainly not with what’s been going on in the world,” Zola said. “They need to have an understanding of what could come calling.”

  I cursed under my breath and sank back into the chair. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I looked up at Zola.

  “You had too many close calls, Damian. Ah was a little worried you might do something stupid and end up getting all three of you killed. But as you’ve been doing stupid things all your life, and haven’t ended up dead yet, Ah figured the time had come.”

  She winked at me, which told me a lot in one gesture. There was truth to her words, lord knew I’d done some stupid shit over the years, but there was more to her reasoning. I trusted Zola, maybe more than I trusted anyone else on this earth. And that would be enough for me, for now.

  “Did Vicky tell you she knows Drake?” I asked. “That was a new one on me.”

  Zola turned toward Vicky, who had retaken her seat on the couch. One of the old Cajun’s eyebrow slowly arched, and I watched Vicky try to disappear into the couch cushions. I knew exactly how she felt.

  “Who’s Drake?” James asked, exchanging a look with Lori.

  “Yes, Vicky,” Zola said, settling into a chair across the room. “Why don’t you tell us who Drake is to you?”

  Vicky frowned at Zola. “Drake’s just an old fairy with a dragon. Like Jasper. He’s nice enough, even if you’ve had your differences with him.” She sounded angry, like Zola had made a ridiculous accusation about a childhood friend. But Drake had fought alongside the Fae for millennia. Aideen and Foster thought he was older than they were, and that left his true age to be anyone’s guess.

  “He attacked Casper and Park’s squad,” I said.

  Vicky blew out a breath.

  I cocked my head.

  “What has he told you?” Zola asked.

  Vicky crossed her arms. “It doesn’t matter. I believe him.”

  I blinked at the girl. She sounded wiser than she should, and confident in her convictions about Drake and his dragon. I’d been face-to-face with them before, and while I thought the dragon seemed pretty okay, I couldn’t say the same for Drake. I suspected his agendas had agendas of their own. He wasn’t someone I’d be quick to trust.

  Zola drummed her fingers on her knobby old cane. “Drake was responsible for your aerial performance downtown.”

  Vicky crossed her arms. “I was helping a friend out of a tight spot. And speaking of friends, I hear Hugh has been having problems of his own.”

  I leaned forward. “Hugh and the River Pack have been in Kansas City, facing down some of their leftovers.”

  Vicky shook her head. “You don’t understand. You haven’t seen the worst of them yet.”

  Her words curdled in my stomach. I still remembered the dark-touched from the Burning Lands. I remembered how well-spoken it had been, and even though that one had been a Geryon, Graybeard said he’d seen the like in the ranks of the dark-touched. A small part of me had hoped they’d been lost or had vanished completely when the Seal was restored. Vicky’s words made me think they hadn’t been.

  Zola frowned. “That would make a terrible kind of sense. None of the creatures we’ve battled would’ve entered into a contract with Nudd. They may have been controlled by him, or manipulated by him, but not part of a conscious agreement like so many of the Fae seem to think exists.”

  I nodded. “You told them about Koda?”

  “The old ghost likes books,” Lori said. “She’s mentioned him once or twice. But mostly the panda bear.”

  “Panda samurai,” Vicky said under her breath.

  I grinned at the kid for a moment. “Koda thinks the dark-touched might be a hive mind. But not in the traditional sense of the word. He thinks it’s more ordered, like a military structure, where a few in charge give orders to those below them, and so on. Until it trickles down to the ground troops, like the rabid creatures we fought.”

  “And is that good or bad?” James asked.

  Zola shrugged. “We don’t know. And Koda might be wrong. Though Ah think Ah could count on one hand the times that ghost has been wrong.”

  “I want to help,” Vicky said.

  I leaned back, unable to stop my eyebrows from rising. “I hav
e to get you out of here for your own safety, but that doesn’t mean I’m putting you in harm’s way.”

  “Why not? I’m faster than you. And I’m better armed than half your allies. Maybe more than that, if you count Jasper.” The ball of fluff on her shoulder puffed up and trilled.

  “Kid.” I rubbed at my forehead.

  Vicky narrowed her eyes. “You can’t stop me. You might as well use me.”

  I looked helplessly over to her parents.

  James tilted his head to one side. “This is her decision. It’s true you can’t stop her. Trust me.”

  Lori patted him on the knee, and her words sounded rehearsed. “Our daughter is strong, and brave, and she’s fought battles we can scarcely imagine.”

  I slowly turned back to Vicky. “You told them about the Burning Lands?”

  She nodded.

  I tried to imagine what that must’ve been like. Did her parents think she was insane? Or did they just accept it? They already knew their daughter had come back from the dead. They’d seen the power she could wield. They’d seen her dragon. Stories of the Burning Lands probably weren’t so much of a stretch after that.

  “It sounds like her friend Carter took good care of her,” Lori said. “She wants to fight for his memory.”

  “And Maggie,” Vicky said.

  The words gutted me. Every logical argument I was scrambling for fled in a heartbeat. Carter and Maggie had watched over her. The whole Ghost Pack had. This girl had been through hell, died, been to a different kind of hell, and come back. It wasn’t my place to stop her.

  Zola nodded once. “I think the real concern here is what happens if Nudd loses control of the dark-touched. The military can’t drop a nuke on every harbinger that pops up. And if Koda’s suspicions are right, and there is a chain of command within the dark-touched, we don’t know what’s coming.”

  “But it’s what we have to be ready for,” I said. “Vicky, it’s why I am worried about you getting into this. And Drake is a manipulative bastard. I’m worried about that, too.” My words came out in a hurry to preempt any protest. “I won’t stop you from helping, but you have got to be careful. Stay close to one of us as often as you can. If you’re not at home, I’d feel better if you were with Foster and Sam, or even Frank.”