“That must have been traumatic, given the situation.”
Wilbur frowned. “Thanks, Puddytat. I really don’t know what to think. Am I going nuts, or did I really see him? I just want to know, because if his ghost is hanging around, what the hell am I doing keeping his body alive?”
Nerissa glanced at me and I gave her a nod. Best to have this out in the open, now that Wilbur had broached the subject.
“Do you want to know the truth?” Her voice was smooth and even, and I realized why she had become a victim’s aid counselor at the FH-CSI. It also hit home just how much her talents were being wasted as my secretary.
“Please, if you know anything.” Wilbur didn’t often say please, and when he did, it meant he was desperate.
Nerissa took a deep breath and then said, “Delilah’s seen Martin. He’s watching over you, Wilbur. He’s happy, and he wants you to be happy and to forgive yourself. You didn’t kill Martin. You didn’t let him down. He misses you, but he can’t contact you as long as you cling to the belief that he’s locked inside that corpse.”
Wilbur stared at her mutely, then a tear streaked down his weather-worn face. He blinked, then buried his face in his hands. “What have I done?”
I joined Nerissa, sitting on Wilbur’s other side. “It’s okay, Wilbur. You just missed your brother and you convinced yourself that as long as his body was here, so was he. But his spirit doesn’t need his body to be near you. He’s been with you since he died, regardless of whether his body has been around.”
Wilbur was sobbing, now, his shoulders heaving in silent jerks. I wasn’t good at comforting others, but Nerissa was. Finally, I stood.
“I’m going to make you some tea. I’ll be back in a moment.” I headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. There was a noise from the broom closet and, cautiously, I opened it, only to see Martin standing inside, staring at the door. He didn’t make any attempt to exit the closet, or to lash out at me, but simply looked mildly confused. Crap. What the hell were we going to do with him now? I closed the door, not knowing what else to do.
I fixed two cups of tea and found some gingersnaps and carried the tea tray with mugs and cookies into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table. Wilbur was clutching a handkerchief, staring straight ahead.
“Why didn’t Kitten tell me about seeing Martin’s spirit? I’m a necromancer. Hell, I should have known better. How could I have been so blind to the truth?” He hacked up what sounded all too much like a hairball and spit it into his hankie.
Nerissa gave me a quick look that said, Time for you to take the helm on this.
I licked my lips, trying to think of the best way to word things. “Wilbur, you’ve had Martin’s…corpse…with you for years now. He seemed like such an integral part of your life that we were worried what might happen if you found out that his spirit was hanging around. We didn’t want to make you feel guilty over keeping his body with you.”
He stared at me for a moment, cocking his head, then snorted.
“Dead Girl, you were trying to protect me? From myself? You might as well try to stop a dog from worrying a bone. Ah hell, I made a right mess of things, didn’t I? Well, it’s time for this to end. If Martin has been hanging around, trying to communicate with me, and I’ve interfered with that by keeping his body around, I have no doubt he’s pissed as hell.” He turned his head, glancing at the television. “I’ll miss having somebody around, though. It’s not always easy being a curmudgeon when you’re alone. Jeopardy won’t be the same without him.”
I pressed my lips together. There was nothing that Nerissa or I could say to make this any easier on him. Finally, I reached out and took his hand. “You have friends. Maybe it’s time you started dating? Or found some necromancer group to meet up with?”
Wilbur grunted. “Easier said than done, chickadee. I’m set in my ways, you know. No woman worth her salt would put up with me and I know it. But that brings me back to the favor I was going to ask you, and it cements my decision.”
“Yes?” I had a horrible feeling that I knew what he wanted me to do. The fact that he had shut Martin up in the kitchen closet told me where this was leading.
“Since it seems that Martin’s spirit is hanging around and wants to talk to me, and that I’ve been keeping his shell alive for years without any reason, can you—will you—” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Take care of him for me?”
I shivered. “Can’t you just undo the spell that brought him back as a ghoul?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that simple. I wish I could, but I used some pretty potent magic that I learned from a Jaguar tribe down in South America. There’s only one way to stop the ghouls they create. You have to destroy them—either hack them to bits or burn them to ashes. And even knowing what I know now, I just can’t bring myself to do the deed.”
I didn’t really have a choice, not given the circumstances. Wilbur had done a lot to help us, and he had just volunteered for what could be a suicide mission. I couldn’t let him down.
“All right. I’ll…put Martin to rest for you.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the confusion and hurt on his face.
“Don’t tell me anything about it, other than it’s done, please.” He hiccupped, and for a moment I thought he was going to start crying again, but after taking a deep breath, he shook it off. “I wouldn’t ask anybody else, Dead Girl. You understand more about these things. Your sisters wouldn’t really get it, but you actually crossed over to live on the other side of the fence. You can tell when there’s sentience and when there isn’t. Vampires still have their souls. But I guess, somehow, I deluded myself into thinking a ghoul would still understand me. That Martin would still be with me, even though…”
I stood. “You want me to take care of this now?”
He nodded. “Might as well get it over with.”
“Nerissa, stay here with Wilbur while I take Martin for a walk. Don’t worry, Wilbur. You won’t find anything to remind you.” I headed for the kitchen while Nerissa took up the conversation, her voice soothing over the rough edges of the night.
MARTIN WILLINGLY FOLLOWED me out the kitchen door and down the ramp to the backyard. Wilbur’s house was on about an acre of land, so I decided it might be best to take the ghoul over to our house—Delilah’s house, now. We had far more space, and that way Wilbur wouldn’t find signs of a fight. Because like it or not, I knew Martin wouldn’t go that easily. I called Delilah to tell her what I was planning.
“You’re kidding? Martin’s spirit appeared to him? I suppose it’s for the best, though. I think that because Wilbur kept Martin’s corpse around, he actually prevented Martin’s spirit from being able to move on, but for the sake of the gods, don’t tell him that.” Delilah sounded just about as flabbergasted as I felt.
“Can Shade help me? I was thinking with his Stradolan magic, he might be able to make this easier on all of us.” Given Delilah’s husband was half shadow dragon and half Stradolan—a shadow walker—it only made sense that he might be able to give me a hand.
“I’ll ask. Hold on.”
I waited while she talked to Shade. Martin stood behind me, placidly, and I wondered briefly whether he had any sense that he was awaiting his execution. A moment later, Delilah came back on the phone.
“Shade says to meet him out back by the rogue portal. He’ll help. After you finish, how about coming up to the house?”
“I need to let Wilbur know I’m done, and pick up Nerissa. She’s staying with him while I do this. But Shade can tell you everything that goes down.” I slipped my phone back in my jacket pocket, then turned to the ghoul. “Well, come on. Let’s get this over with.”
As we headed across the street and toward the house, Martin slogged along behind me. The first time I had seen him, I’d almost destroyed him. That was when we had first met Wilbur—he had come looking for Martin when the ghoul had wandered off. Wilbur managed to stop me right before I had torn Martin to pieces. I had
broken Martin’s neck, hence the neck brace he continually wore, but that was about the extent of damage I’d managed to inflict.
Shade was waiting around back of the house. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and an indigo blue sweater, and when he saw me, he gave a little wave.
“So, Wilbur found out the truth about Martin?” He walked over to the ghoul, sizing him up.
“Yeah, and now he knows that by keeping Martin’s body around, he’s been blocking Martin’s spirit from contacting him. He feels guilty as hell. I just hope to hell Martin actually attempts to talk to him again, so that Wilbur doesn’t feel like he’s been duped.” I stood back, folding my arms across my chest. “Is there an easier way than tearing him apart? I really don’t want to do that, but I will if there’s no other choice.”
Shade swept his shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail. The amber locks set off his dark skin nicely, and while he didn’t have Smoky’s intense charisma, Shade could be pretty charming on his own. He had a gentle sense of humor and wasn’t as blustery as Camille’s dragon-boy.
“There are two options. One, I can turn into a dragon and flame him down. Dragon-flame is searing hot, and I can muster up a good lungful without, I hope, torching the trees and plants.”
“Good choice. What’s the other option?” I was leery of flame, simply because it was also one of the best ways to destroy a vampire.
“There’s a spell I can use—a karmic death magic—to turn the undead to dust. It unmakes them. But it’s got a few potential side effects that I’m not sure either of us want to see happen.”
“Like what?”
Shade tugged on his collar. “Um, if it goes the least bit astray, well, you’re undead and it might just hit you. Small chance, but still—a chance.”
I blinked. “Let’s not, then. I like my life, vampiric or not, and I’m not looking to leave it just yet. I know you’re not Camille—your magic doesn’t go kerflooffy as often as hers, but… How big of a chance?”
Shade grinned at me. “That’s the problem. I don’t know. I haven’t cast the spell since before my powers vanished and then returned, so I have no clue on how well I can perform it.”
“It’s settled, then. Dragon flame it is. I can take cover away from fire. Are you sure you’re willing to do this? I could just start the process of taking him apart limb by limb.”
Even though the words came tumbling out of my mouth, I realized that it wouldn’t be that easy. It wouldn’t be easy at all, since we had gotten to know Martin over the years and thought of him as Wilbur’s pet.
“I’m good with it. Okay, I need space for this, so let’s head out into the clearing.” Shade motioned for us to follow him.
I took Martin’s hand and gently dragged him along behind me. The backyard was huge, with forest surrounding it. One path led to Iris’s house, and on the other side of the yard, a path led down to Birchwater Pond. There was enough space for both Smoky and Shade to comfortably shift into dragon form.
“At least it’s been raining a lot, so the grass should be soaked through. Lead Martin into the center, would you? And you’ll want to tether him so he can’t wander off. I know that ghouls don’t move quickly, but we don’t want him running around in flames.” Shade paused. “Are you sure about this? Once he’s toasted, there’s no coming back.”
“I think if Wilbur kept Martin’s body around now that he knows the truth, he’d feel guilty every time he looked at it. And as much of a pain in the ass as Wilbur can be, I don’t want that. So let’s do this and get it over with.” I glanced up at the house. “I’ll find a bit of rope and a stake to tie him to.” I handed Martin’s leash to Shade and zipped up to the house.
Delilah was standing on the back porch. “I thought I’d come out and help. What do you need?”
I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks. We need a piece of rope and a stake to tether him with. Shade’s going to use his dragon fire to toast him to ashes.” I paused. “Wilbur was pretty shook up. He really had no clue that Martin’s spirit was around him all these years. Odd, for a necromancer.”
“Sometimes all it takes is a little denial. You don’t want to see something? You don’t see it.” Delilah sorted through a pile of garden tools and brought out a length of rope and an aluminum stake. “These should work,” she said, handing them to me.
“Why do you think Wilbur hid the truth from himself?” We crossed the lawn to where Shade waited with Martin.
“Because he had already turned Martin into a ghoul. Let’s put it this way. Suppose I died and you were able to raise me again. You thought you had given me a second chance at life, when actually, all you did was to animate my body?”
“Are you talking about Erin?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. This has nothing to do with you turning Erin. Erin is Erin, regardless of whether she’s human or a vampire. She still has her soul. Martin’s spirit is still Martin. But his body? His body is a monster, when you think about it. The form has no soul, though it has some sentience and cunning. All this time, Wilbur’s been thinking that his brother is still with him—albeit in a slightly skewed manner.” She shook her head. “Seeing Martin’s spirit must have been incredibly traumatic, and yet, I’m glad he did. This way, it can put things to rights for both of them.”
“Do you really think Wilbur effectively grounded Martin’s spirit? That Martin wants to move on and can’t?” There were a lot of ghosts who had been locked into the physical plane for one reason or another.
Delilah considered my question for a moment.
“I think Martin has things he wants to say to Wilbur, but he can’t until his body is given rest.” She stopped beside Shade, staring at Martin. “It’s really the end of a stagnant period for Wilbur. He’ll be able to move on from here and let go of the past, I hope.”
“Letting go and moving on seems to be a theme in our lives right now, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. But Wilbur’s made strides. Remember when we first met him, he claimed Martin was a transient whom he had claimed at the morgue? It took us reading his journal to figure out the relationship between the two. I think even then, he was regretful over what he had done, but he wasn’t able to face it yet.” She glanced over at Shade. “Are you ready? Do you need anything else?”
He shook his head. “No. Just tie him to the tether and then get behind me, especially Menolly.”
I walked over to Martin, who looked vaguely suspicious and a little afraid.
“It’s okay, Martin. You’ll be fine. You’re going to be just fine.”
I gently attached the tether to his leash ring that Wilbur kept on him, and then, with one giant thrust, hit the ground with the end of the aluminum stake, driving it deep enough for it to hold firm. Then I tied the tether to the stake and turned back to Martin.
“It will all be over soon. There’s going to be just one bright flash, Martin. Brighter than anything you remember. Then you’ll be free and...nature can take her course.” I paused, then reached out and hesitantly patted him on the shoulder.
He tilted his head, as much as the brace would allow, and stared at me with unblinking eyes, looking for all the world like a confused dog. Then, a glint seeped in that made me wary, and I found myself seeing him not as Martin, Wilbur’s slightly demented Jeopardy-watching-partner, but as a ghoul, who needed to devour flesh and energy to live. And with that, I backed away.
I joined Delilah, standing well behind Shade and to his left. He glanced at us.
I nodded. “Go ahead.”
In a billowing cloud of smoke, Shade began to shift form. He rose out of the dark fog, a massive skeletal dragon, with dark brown vertebrae running down his spine, towering over us like some behemoth dinosaur skeleton. His wings spread wide, the bones shimmering with a nimbus of purple light. He craned his neck, winding down to stare at Martin.
The ghoul tried to back away, but the tether held. Even though I knew this was necessary, part of me didn’t want to watch—didn’t want to see what Shade wa
s about to do. But I forced myself to stand vigil, if not for Martin, then for Wilbur.
Delilah reached for my hand and I wound my fingers through hers, holding tight. We steadied ourselves as Shade pulled back and took aim, his massive head targeting Martin. Unlike Smoky, his skull was a frightening visage of bone, the eye sockets blazing with light. Once again, it struck me how brave my sister was, loving someone who could easily squash her with one step. Shadow dragons were the Death Maidens of the Dragon Reaches, and Shade wasn’t afraid of his power.
He opened his mouth and a spray of fire shot forth. The ghoul let out a howl, but it was cut short as the flames caught hold of him, burning swiftly.
Delilah clutched my hand tighter and gasped, but before we could even say a word, the fire grew so hot we could feel it from where we stood.
White hot and blistering, the flames crackled over Martin, who tried to pull away. But other than the single howl, the only sound in the night was the roar of Shade’s fire.
A moment later, Martin’s form flaked into ash, and then the bones followed. Another minute, and Martin’s body had returned to the earth, cleansed by dragon’s breath.
Delilah shuddered, but then straightened her shoulders. “It’s done, then.”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s done. I’ll be able to tell Wilbur it was quick. He doesn’t want to know the details but I will tell him Martin didn’t suffer.”
“He didn’t,” Shade said, returning to his human form. “He burned clean and quick. Dragon fire’s so strong that the shock numbs the victim for a moment, and then destroys them before the numbness is gone.” He walked over to where Martin had stood. “Nothing left as a reminder. It was a quick and clean kill.”
“Good, then,” I said, trying to process how I felt. But there was just an empty void where the thought of Martin was concerned. It hadn’t been his spirit—it hadn’t been him, really. Just his shell, turned into something that he wouldn’t have even recognized or wanted.
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