by Jan Eldredge
It was the last break of luck she needed. The marbles bounced off the beast and clattered to the pavement like glass raindrops.
She fixed her eyes on Julian’s frightened ones. “Thank you,” she whispered. He was afraid, but Julian Midsomer was not a coward, despite what Laurent or anyone else might think.
Laurent rounded on him with an earsplitting roar. If Julian’s plan had been to make the beast mad and draw his attention toward him, he’d succeeded.
The rougarou lunged for Julian, one huge foot coming down on the marbles and skating out from under him. He clutched at the air as he righted his balance. Julian turned and raced down the staircase, probably hoping Evangeline would be right behind him, but she was not.
She darted from the railing and around to face Laurent, standing between him and the retreating Julian. “Hey, Big and Ugly!” She chucked the empty aconitum jar at him, and it bounced off his black nose, drawing his focus from Julian.
With her eyes locked on the alpha, she stepped around him again, this time backing toward the burning house instead of the balcony. She pressed her shoulders against the wall. Above her the flaming fabric crackled and smoked, the heat warming the top of her head.
Laurent turned, and, fixing his glowing blue glare on her, he took a step toward her, peeling back his lips and baring his fangs with a snarl.
Evangeline didn’t dwell on what she had to do next. She shot toward him without any thought, rushing across the short distance, leaping and throwing her full body weight into his chest. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clutching his thick fur with as much strength as her hands would provide.
Laurent stumbled backward, his big clawed feet coming down unsteadily on more marbles, the misstep driving him into the balcony railing and sending him toppling over the side.
Girl and monster hurtled toward the pavement below.
Laurent’s rougarou body crashed onto Circe’s statue. The tip of its upward-pointing wand punched through his silver-gray back. It ran through his heart, exiting his chest and piercing Evangeline’s shoulder.
The puncture burned and seared, and Evangeline cried out as the statue toppled beneath their weight. They crashed to the ground, the impact throwing her free from the wand.
The rougarou and the statue rolled to a stop, Laurent’s grand alpha body already morphing into his small, pallid human form. A rivulet of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Evangeline’s mind was muddled and foggy, but one thought rose through the mist: the voodoo priest had been right. There had been bloodshed this night, and there had been death. Laurent’s was the first.
She pressed a hand to her bleeding shoulder. The stab wound wasn’t life-threatening.
She climbed to her feet, and everything went wavy.
No, the wound wasn’t lethal. But the aconitum she’d dumped over the balcony and onto the tip of Circe’s wand was.
Evangeline’s legs collapsed, and she dropped to the pavement.
As the last of her life slipped away, she watched Laurent’s pack return to their human forms. With their clothing hanging in tatters, they ran, disappearing into the warehouse. Camille, her face squeezed tight with agony, and dragging her broken leg behind her, crawled into the darkness after them. Not far away, the grim lay on its side, blood trickling from its many wounds, the glow in its yellow eyes fading.
Gran hobbled over and dropped down beside Evangeline.
“Gran, I think I might have some haunt huntress powers after all,” Evangeline whispered.
“I’m sure you do.” Gran grasped Evangeline’s scratched and punctured wrist in her warm hand, feeling for her pulse.
“Imagine what my sister and I could have accomplished together if she’d been here to help.” Evangeline managed a pained smile. “We would have been unstoppable.”
Fader scampered across the pavement, a necklace chain dangling from his mouth. He dropped it into the palm of Evangeline’s upturned hand.
She closed her fingers around her mama’s silver talisman. “Thanks, Fader.” She shut her eyes. “I think Mama would have been proud of me, don’t you, Gran?”
“I do indeed,” Gran murmured. “You’ve proven yourself to be a haunt huntress any mama, and grandmama, would be proud of.”
Evangeline smiled. “I am a haunt huntress.”
Her heart slowed, the beats coming fewer and farther between.
The world and reality faded away, and the last words she heard Gran speak were “Go get her!”
Evangeline’s heart beat its last, and she died.
It was dark. And silent. Evangeline couldn’t feel her body, but she was still herself. A pinprick of light appeared in the blackness surrounding her, so she moved toward it. The light in the dark was welcoming.
A presence emerged behind her, and she turned. There in the dimness stood the grim, with its yellow eyes fixed on her.
“Are you here to lead me to the other side? There’s no need.”
When the grim didn’t leave, she sighed. “Well, lead on then.”
Another pinprick of light appeared behind the beast. Another appeared to her left, one to her right, two above, three below. More of them winked into existence all around her, dotting the blackness like orange stars in the sky. There were so many to choose from. Maybe she did need the grim to lead her to the right one after all.
The big dog turned and walked away. She followed it toward one of the pinpricks, and as they drew closer, the light expanded, swelling into an orange glow.
The rougarou wounds on her arms and wrists stung something fierce. Her pierced shoulder burned and throbbed. And the afterworld smelled smoky. This was eternity? Where was the peace and all-encompassing beauty? No wonder so many spirits became restless.
A tongue licked her face.
She squinted her eyes open.
The orange light flared too bright, too intense. She wrinkled her nose at the burning smell. The grim licked her face, and her eyes flew the rest of the way open.
Orange embers and black ashes floated all around her. Acrid smoke filled her nose.
Gran peered down at her.
Gran was dead too?
And there was Julian. And his mama.
Her sacrifice had been for nothing? A rush of anger surged through her, and she cursed out loud.
Gran frowned. “Language, Evangeline.”
Mrs. Midsomer smiled. Her hair was mussed. Her beautiful ball gown was filthy. At least her teeth were no longer fang shaped and her eyes no longer lit green. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she murmured, and hurried away.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you all,” Evangeline rasped, feeling as weak as dishwater.
A look of confusion crossed Julian’s face, and then he laughed out loud.
Even in death, he wouldn’t take her seriously. Annoyance buzzed inside her. It was going to be a long, miserable afterlife.
“We’re not dead. And you’re not either.” The smile slipped from his face. “At least, you’re not dead anymore.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. He was making no sense at all.
“You stopped breathing. And your heart stopped.” He hesitated, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “You actually died. But then the grim brought you back.” He motioned toward the black dog looming nearby.
“Back?”
Julian nodded, his expression still sober. “The grim crawled toward you and sort of collapsed next to you. Then your gran told it to go fetch your soul. It took it a while to climb to its feet, because of all its injuries, but when it finally did, it just stood there, staring off into space. Then the next thing we knew, you were breathing again.”
Evangeline still couldn’t make heads or tails out of what he was saying. Grims only took you one way, and that was to the afterlife, not away from it.
She turned her gaze toward Gran. “Gran?” she asked, her voice scratchy and hoarse. “What’s this boy going on about?”
“Don’t you know
?” Gran looked completely worn-out and beaten. She rested her hand against Evangeline’s cheek and gave her a tired smile. “He’s been searching for you all this time.”
“Who, Gran? Who’s been searching for me?”
“Your familiar.”
“My familiar?” Her heart lurched, bringing with it a wave of dizziness.
The smell of dirty dog filled her nostrils. With a whine, the grim plopped down and rested his head on her booted feet.
Evangeline stared down at the creature. She wrinkled her forehead. “Are you trying to tell me . . . this grim . . . is my familiar? How can that be?”
“Well, it hasn’t happened often,” Gran said. “But it’s not unheard of with unique birth circumstances like yours.” She paused, her eyebrows gathering. “Though I’m not sure there’s ever been a birth circumstance quite like yours.”
Evangeline squinted at the black dog. “The grim. The grim is my familiar.” Her thoughts felt as thick as mud. Perhaps her mind was experiencing death-lag.
“It’s a haunt huntress’s developing powers that call her familiar to her,” Gran continued. “Your call was weak, half powered because it appears you inherited half the power. He must have been searching for you for quite a while.”
“I . . . I kept seeing him, but I thought he was coming for you because”—Evangeline lowered her voice—“because you’re getting old.”
“Nonsense.” Gran waved the notion away. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m as strong as a mule.”
“Gran.” Tears welled in Evangeline’s eyes. “I thought Laurent had killed you.”
Gran drew the scepter near and pointed to a fracture near the top of it. “It was the wood that cracked, not my skull. I told you I had a hard head.”
A tornado of emotions overtook Evangeline: shame for having tried to run the grim off all those times, shock, awe, pride, excitement, and, oddly enough, a bit of shyness. She fixed her gaze on the big dog again. “So, you’re my familiar?”
The grim moved closer and rested his head against her noninjured shoulder.
Evangeline swallowed hard, surprised at the lump forming in her throat and the tears threatening to well up again. “Now all I have to do is prove I have heart,” she whispered.
“The true proof of heart,” Gran said, “is helping others in need, even when doing so will come at a steep personal cost. I’m sure the council will agree you more than demonstrated that tonight.”
Gran’s words filled Evangeline with a gratification she’d never known. Struggling, she sat up, wincing at the various sites of pain lighting up all over her body. She turned to the grim, and her heart sank. His snout and coat were covered with gashes and matted with blood. “Oh, Gran! He’s hurt!”
“We’ll get him fixed up.” Gran took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.
Another jolt of pain surged through her shoulder. “Where are we going?”
“We have to get out of here.” Julian pointed toward the flames dancing across the house’s roof. Some of the floats had already caught fire. “The whole place will go up soon.”
Mrs. Midsomer was back. She jingled a ring of keys. “We’re in luck. They were still in Laurent’s convertible.”
Evangeline cast a glance at his lifeless form. “What about Laurent?” But if someone gave her an answer, she didn’t hear it. The world went spinny, and then it went black. Air whooshed past Evangeline’s face. An engine droned. The odor of dirty dog drifted over from somewhere nearby.
She pried her eyes open.
The night sky was filled with pinpricks of stars rushing by. And of course, there was the full moon, following along above them. They sped past warehouses and docks with the wide, dark Mississippi River flowing beside them. Mrs. Midsomer, still dressed in her satin gown, drove the car. Julian sat in the passenger seat beside his mama. Evangeline herself was squeezed into the center of the tiny convertible’s back seat, Gran and Fader to her left and the grim to her right, sitting so tall, he never would have fit if the car’s top had been up.
Her eyes closed again.
It was twelve noon. Sunlight streamed through the Midsomers’ guest-bedroom window. A knock sounded, the door opened, and Julian entered. Since the rougarou incident a day and a half ago, he’d taken to wearing his own leather satchel strapped across his chest. Evangeline had no idea what he carried inside it, though. Probably superglue and screwdrivers.
“Here’s your lunch.” He offered her a tray piled with chicken nuggets, carrot sticks, and a can of Coke.
Evangeline’s stomach rumbled at the sight and smell. She sat up, wincing as bandages rubbed against wounds, still feeling as though she’d been chewed up and spit out. She propped the pillow behind her, not particularly caring for Julian waiting on her, but she was too hungry to argue.
He set the tray on her lap. “I hope you don’t mind I gave your dog a bath. The ASPCA recommends bathing your canine pet at least once every three months. You should always avoid getting water in the ear canals as it can pool there and possibly cause an infection. I stuffed cotton balls in his ears to reduce such a risk.”
The grim padded into the room wearing an aroma of mint and coconut, far better than the last time she’d smelled him.
“That calendula salve your gran used on him is working nicely. His wounds are almost completely healed.” Julian ruffled the dog’s black fur to reveal the encouraging results.
“Thanks.” Evangeline shoved a nugget into her mouth. The big dog sat up on his haunches, his yellow eyes fixed intently on her. He licked his lips. She tossed him a nugget, and he caught it and swallowed it whole.
“What are you going to name him?” Julian asked.
“Berus,” she said around a mouthful of nugget.
“Berus?”
She swallowed the chicken down with a sip of Coke. “Short for Cerberus. You know, the three-headed hellhound who guards the entrance to the underworld.”
Julian regarded the grim for a moment, then gave a crisp nod. “A very suitable moniker.”
Gran hobbled up the hallway on a set of crutches and poked her head into the room, her haunt huntress talisman swaying on its silver chain around her neck. “Percy will be here soon. It’s time you stop lounging around like the queen of the Nile and get your things packed up.”
“We’re going home today?” Evangeline’s heart leaped. “But what about the former rougarous and their familiars?”
“Our job is done,” Gran replied. “It’s up to the law to take it from here.”
The thought of returning to the bayou sent a surge of joy coursing through Evangeline’s veins. She shoved two more nuggets into her mouth, then scrambled out of bed and grabbed her suitcase.
Two hours and twenty-three minutes later, Percy’s rusted red pickup bounced up the street and came to a squealing stop in front of the Midsomers’ house. He climbed to the porch, where Gran, Evangeline, and their familiars waited alongside the Midsomer family. After he’d given the proper round of handshakes, hugs, and cheek kisses, he stepped back, set his eyes on Berus, and slid the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Well, now. Evangeline? You done got yourself a dog?”
“Yep.” Evangeline tried not to beam like a fool. “His name’s Berus.”
Percy reached into the pocket of his sleeveless flannel shirt, snapped off a big piece of gator jerky, and offered it to the grim. “Hey there, Berus boy.” He patted the top of Berus’s head with one hand while the big dog licked the gator tidbit from his other.
“And Fader!” Percy crouched to share a morsel with the cat and scratch him between two of his four ears.
Mrs. Midsomer hugged Gran; then she hugged Evangeline. She touched her fingertips to the red gris-gris bag hanging from a cord around her neck. “Thank you. You know you’re welcome to come visit anytime.”
Mr. Midsomer stepped forward. “Mrs. Holyfield. Evangeline. I wish you would let us pay you something more.”
Gran nodded down toward the three
bottles of red wine poking out of the top of her valise. “That merlot is payment enough. You just take care of your family. Love them, and never let them go.”
Mr. Midsomer put his arms around his wife and his son. “Yes, ma’am. I can promise you that.”
“Nice meeting you, Mr. Julian.” Gran shook Julian’s hand, and as Percy took the suitcases and bags to the truck, she tucked the crutches beneath her arms and made her way down from the porch. Fader scampered after her.
“Well.” Evangeline shifted her booted feet, not sure what to say. “I’ll be seeing you. Come on, Berus.”
She’d made it halfway down the steps when Julian called out, “Evangeline!”
She turned. “Yeah?”
He hopped down and joined her and Berus on the steps.
Evangeline sniffed and furrowed her brow. “Julian, do you smell like rosemary?”
He nodded. “I hear the aroma brings its wearer good luck.” Then he paused for a moment, and his face grew serious. “I’m sorry I doubted you. You were right about everything.”
Evangeline flushed with pride, surprised at how much this boy’s good opinion of her mattered. “Well, I wasn’t right about Camille.”
“That’s true.” He nodded. “I did try to tell you, but you—”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t push it.”
He cleared his throat, then reached into his leather satchel. He pulled out a bowie knife, laid it across his palms, and offered it to her. “To replace the one Laurent broke.”
The shiny new blade with the pearl handle shimmered and gleamed in the sunlight. It was the loveliest knife Evangeline had ever set eyes on.
“Thank you.” She took it, and after admiring it for a moment longer, she slid it into the leather sheath at her leg, the weight of it somehow making her feel whole again.
She climbed into the truck and took her seat beside Gran and Fader. Being too big to fit inside the cab with them, Berus had to ride in the back. Evangeline hauled the squealing door shut, then peered out the rear window.
The Midsomer family waved good-bye.
With equal pinches of worry and sadness tugging at her heart, she waved good-bye in return. They were good folk, and she would miss them.