Vendetta (Deadly Curiosities Book 2)
Page 38
“Supernatural vigilantes,” Anthony murmured. He glanced toward Chuck and Daniel, who definitely looked the part. His gaze hesitated on Mrs. Teller and Niella, and I guessed he recognized them from the market. Lucinda regarded him coolly, and Caliel had gone into the kitchen to make a small offering of rum and cigars to the Loas for their help.
“That’s as good a term as any,” Father Anne replied. Blood splattered her white clerical collar and the iron cross that hung from a chain around her neck. “We face down the demons in the dark, so the rest of you don’t have to.”
“The police –” Anthony started.
“The police don’t have the means to fight what we fight,” I replied. “They’d die. We do what we do because we’re specialists.”
“You mean, you have magic.” Anthony said. I nodded. He ran a hand back through his hair. “Shit,” he said, and I could practically watch the gears turn as he put it all together.
“Decide,” Sorren said. “I can make you forget everything you’ve seen here tonight and you can go about your business, but that forgetting will include Teag.”
Anthony pulled himself together and looked at Sorren levelly. “No! Hell, no! I may not really understand this, but even if it got me disbarred, if Teag’s here, I’m staying.”
Sorren stepped aside and let Anthony move past him to kneel next to the couch. He reached up and took Teag’s hand. “I guess if worst comes to worst, I can always be your consigliere,” Anthony said with a rueful half-smile as the tears rolled down his cheek.
“Nah… we’re the good guys, but thanks. If you can keep our secrets, we’ll keep yours,” Father Anne said. Donnelly pushed a glass of bourbon into Anthony’s hand.
“Buck up, old boy,” he said. “Any battle all your people live through is a mighty fine fight.”
Dr. Zeigler made a slow circle around the room once more, checking on all of us to assure himself we were patched up. He lingered over Teag, checking the IV lines and Teag’s vital signs, then looked to Anthony and Sorren. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on him. He’ll be fine for tonight.” He gave the rest of us a nod and let himself out. Zeigler’s a good guy. Not only does he make house calls, but he knows his way around supernatural injuries, and manages to keep everything off the authorities’ radar. I assume Sorren pays him a hefty retainer.
Archibald Donnelly picked up his pith helmet from the table. “He doesn’t need my help anymore,” Donnelly said with a nod toward Teag. “Bloody fine show we put on tonight,” he said, clapping Sorren on the shoulder. “Always happy to lend a hand.” He gave Sorren a broad wink. “And thanks for that painting. I’ll make sure it gets exactly the spot it deserves.”
Chuck and Daniel insisted on keeping watch on the porch, and I wasn’t going to stop them. The others made their goodbyes and straggled out, until only Sorren, Maggie, Teag, Anthony, and I were left.
“Is my room ready?” Sorren asked with a hint of dry humor. There’s an old, windowless root cellar in the basement where I keep a futon for him in case of emergencies.
I nodded. “Get some sleep. We’ll keep an eye on Teag.”
Maggie was managing without her crutches, but she had pushed herself enough that her limp was obvious. “You were a trooper,” I said. “Thank you.”
Maggie shrugged. “What are friends for? I’m glad everyone’s all right.” She leaned down to scratch Baxter’s ears. “But I’m dog tired.”
I jerked my head toward the guest bedroom. “Go ahead. I’m going to turn in soon.” Once Maggie headed down the hallway, I went to the linen closet and brought out a pillow and sleeping bag for Anthony.
“Figured you might as well be comfortable, since I didn’t think you’d leave the room,” I said.
Anthony took the bedding appreciatively. “Thanks, Cassidy. Sorry I was such an ass.”
“We threw a lot at you all at once,” I said. “And you were worried.” I shrugged, then winced as the movement hurt. More than anything, I just wanted to get cleaned up and fall into bed. Dr. Zeigler had given me some painkillers, and with Chuck and Daniel on guard duty, I thought I’d break down and take the pills to get a good night’s sleep.
Anthony glanced over at Teag, who was still sedated and sleeping. “Panicked is more like it. Thanks for taking care of him. You really think he’ll be okay?”
“You heard the doctor. He needs to rest, but he should be fine after all the stitches heal up,” I replied. “Now, I’ve got to get some sleep.” And with that, I tucked Baxter under my arm and headed for bed.
TWO WEEKS LATER, Teag, Father Anne, and I stood in Magnolia Cemetery. The sun was just setting over the marshland behind the graveyard. Technically, the memorial park was closed, but Father Anne and Sorren had pull with the administrator, so for once we didn’t have to worry about being caught and thrown out after hours.
Sorren joined us just as the sun dipped below the horizon. “They did a nice job with the headstone,” I said as he walked up.
The dark granite stone was unpretentious, but I knew a memorial of that size had cost plenty, as had the lot beneath the spreading branches of an old live oak. Mrs. Butler’s remains had never been recovered from the wreckage of Palmetto Meadows, so there was no body, and since she had no living relatives, no funeral was held. That’s why Sorren had asked us here, for a private memorial.
The stone read ‘Helen Wadsworth Butler’ with her birth and death dates, along with a carved heart, a dove, and the words ‘Forever remembered.’ Most of the time, that kind of epitaph is an overstatement, but for Sorren, it would be very true.
“Am I late?” Archibald Donnelly strode across the well-trimmed lawn, managing to avoid the gravestones though the cemetery was not lit for night visitors.
“Right on time, Archie,” Sorren said. Donnelly was wearing a well-tailored suit, though the cut looked about a century out of date. He came up to stand with us, and read the inscription.
“Can’t tell you how sorry I am about this, Sorren,” Donnelly said. “Do you have what I asked for?”
Sorren nodded and reached into a pocket, withdrawing a World War Two-vintage man’s watch. He handed it over to Donnelly, who took it carefully between both hands. Donnelly closed his eyes and began to murmur. A faint mist gathered near the headstone, glimmering with flecks of light. The mist thickened and in another moment, a figure stepped out of the fog.
This was Helen Butler as she had been seventy years ago, the beautiful, sassy girl from the old photograph. Sorren stepped toward her, and at least from where I stood, when he held out his hand to her, it looked as if she clasped his in return.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Sorren murmured. “I failed you.”
Her laughter carried on the night air. “Never. You were always there. You didn’t think I knew, but deep inside, I did. And at the end, you made me remember the old days. You gave those back to me – to us.”
“My friends will make sure your crossing is smooth,” Sorren said, his voice tight with emotion. The grief in his eyes was at odds with how young he appeared. Even though he knew this day would come, I guess it never gets easier.
“I had a very good life, a long life,” Helen said, and reached out to touch Sorren’s cheek. “Not as long as yours, but long enough. I’m glad I had a chance to say good-bye before I left.”
Sorren wasn’t crying, but I was. Teag looked a little misty, too. In Father Anne’s business, it’s necessary to have a game face for doing funerals, but I could see in her eyes that she was touched.
Sorren leaned toward Helen’s apparition, and they shared one final kiss. Then she stepped back and waved good-bye. Donnelly murmured again, and the mist dissipated. Next to me, Father Anne began to read quietly from the Book of Common Prayer.
“Oh God of grace and glory, we remember to you this day…”
Teag walked me to my car when the service was over. The insurance company had finally processed the paperwork, and I had a new blue Mini Cooper. He slung his arm over my
shoulder and I put mine around his waist, partially out of camaraderie, and partly to keep from tripping over gravestones in the dim light.
“All’s well that ends well?” he asked.
I glanced behind us. Father Anne and Archibald Donnelly were walking toward the parking lot. Sorren remained behind, head bowed, standing in front of the headstone.
“Yeah,” I said, “as well as it can be, I guess. And better than it could have been.”
Just then, my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was a text message from Kell. I meant what I said about taking you to dinner. Pick a nice place and we’ll make it a night on the town.
Teag read the message over my shoulder. “So? You gonna go?” I must have hesitated, because he gave me a stern look. “Life’s too short to miss out on the good stuff,” he said. “Anthony and I are clear on that now.” He shot me a grin. “Besides, if you start going out with Kell, we can double date.”
Despite everything, I chuckled. “Go ahead, twist my arm,” I said, though I had already intended to take Kell up on the offer. Sounds good to me, I texted. Is there a restaurant in Charleston that isn’t haunted?
THANKS FIRST TO my agent, Ethan Ellenberg, to my editor, Jon Oliver, and to all the folks at Solaris Books who have been wonderful to work with over the years.
It has been a lot of fun to see Cassidy, Teag, and the other characters grow and explore their world in this novel and in the related short stories and novellas. Part of the fun is also finding elements from real-world Charleston that can be tweaked and twisted to make the book that much more rooted in the setting.
My partner and husband, Larry Martin, has come to play an increasingly important role with the books over time. He is my primary beta reader and first editor, with an eye for finding typographical errors and continuity issues. Over the years, he has become an excellent plot brainstorming partner, and he played an essential role in bringing this book to life. The books are stronger because of his involvement, and I am happy that a life partnership has developed into a creative partnership as well. That’s how we came to co-author our new Steampunk novel, Iron and Blood.
Charleston, South Carolina is a real place. Some of the landmarks and a few of the historical figures in this book do exist, and some (but not all) of the historical events were real. Even the Ghost Bikes are real tributes to fallen cyclists, and you can learn more about them online. But the characters and their shops are all a work of fiction. So for example, if you go to Charleston (and I hope you do, because it’s a lovely place to visit), you can see the real Charleston City Market and walk down King Street, but you won’t find any of the businesses or restaurants I’ve mentioned by name. The Angel Oak is real, but not its magic (so far as I know). Any resemblance to real people or actual businesses is completely coincidental.
Many people in Charleston will tell you that the ghosts, however, are real. My ghosts are fictional, but that’s because Charleston has enough of its own already. But don’t take my word for it. See for yourself.
Want more about Cassidy, Sorren and Teag? Check out my Deadly Curiosities Adventures e-book short stories on Kindle, Kobo and Nook!
GAIL Z. MARTIN writes epic and urban fantasy, steampunk and short stories. She is the author of the Chronicles of the Necromancer series, the Fallen Kings Cycle series and the Ascendant Kingdoms Saga series of epic fantasy books, as well as the Deadly Curiosities urban fantasy world and Iron and Blood, a steampunk novel, co-written with Larry N. Martin. Gail is a frequently contributor to US and UK anthologies. She also writes three series of ebook short stories: The Jonmarc Vahanian Adventures, The Deadly Curiosities Adventures and The Storm and Fury Adventures.
Find her at www.DeadlyCuriosities.com, on Twitter @GailZMartin, on Facebook.com/WinterKingdoms, at DisquietingVisions.com blog and GhostInTheMachinePodcast.com. She leads frequent conversations on Goodreads goodreads.com/GailZMartin and posts free excerpts of her work to wattpad.com/GailZMartin.
When she’s not writing, Gail also enjoys reading, cooking, and hanging out with her husband, kids, and dogs.
Welcome to Trifles & Folly, a store with a dark secret. Proprietor Cassidy Kincaide continues a family tradition begun in 1670 – acquiring and neutralizing dangerous supernatural items. It’s the perfect job for Cassidy, whose psychic gift lets her touch an object and know its history. Together with her business partner Sorren, a 500-year-old vampire and former jewel thief, Cassidy makes it her business to get infernal objects off the market.
When a trip to a haunted hotel unearths a statue steeped in malevolent power, and a string of murders draws a trail to the abandoned old Navy yard, Cassidy and Sorren discover a diabolical plot to unleash a supernatural onslaught on their city.
It’s time for Kincaide and her team to get rid of these Deadly Curiosities before the bodies start piling up.
‘Great characters, awesome magic, huge thrill ride!’
John Hartness, author of The Black Knight Chronicles
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“What’s the first thing you think of when I say ‘angel’?” asked Mallory.
Alice shrugged. “I don’t know... guns?”
Alice isn’t having the best of days - late for work, missed her bus, and now she’s getting rained on - but it’s about to get worse.
The war between the angels and the Fallen is escalating and innocent civilians are getting caught in the cross-fire. If the balance is to be restored, the angels must act - or risk the Fallen taking control. Forever. That’s where Alice comes in. Hunted by the Fallen and guided by Mallory - a disgraced angel with a drinking problem he doesn’t want to fix - Alice will learn the truth about her own history... and why the angels want to send her to hell.
What do the Fallen want from her? How does Mallory know so much about her past? What is it the angels are hiding - and can she trust either side?
‘Dark, enticing and so sharp the pages could cut you, Blood and Feathers is a must-read.’
Sarah Pinborough
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New Pittsburgh, 1898 – a crucible of invention and intrigue. Born from the ashes of devastating fire, flood and earthquake, the city is ruled by the shadow government of The Oligarchy. In the swarming streets, people of a hundred nations drudge to feed the engines of progress, while in the abandoned tunnels beneath the city, supernatural creatures hide from the light, emerging only to feed.
Jake Desmet and Rick Brand travel the world to secure treasures and unusual items for the collections of wealthy patrons, accompanied by Jake’s cousin, Veronique LeClerque. But when their latest commission leads to Jake’s father’s murder, the three friends are drawn into a conspiracy where dark magic, industrial sabotage and the monsters that prey on the night will ultimately threaten not just New Pittsburgh, but the whole world.
‘Adventure with whole-hearted passion.’
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