by Misty Evans
It was serene and peaceful. I guided Rad to a chair and pushed him into, crawling onto his lap and draping a blanket over us. We sat like that, listening to the city’s chorus and watching the sunset for long minutes. He told me he’d talked to the head of the Chicago Noctifectors, and while they were reluctant to go to Chloe’s, he’d pleaded the case for humankind and won their confidence. He’d already alerted Chloe as well. She was pissed he was bringing Slayers to her business, but they were the lesser of two evils. Literally.
“I brought you something,” he said, shifting me so he could pull a small blue box from his coat pocket. “From New York.”
The last of the light was fading in the west, the peach streaks turning a dark purple. Fire danced low in the fire pit, throwing shadows around the roof top. The bright blue box seemed completely out of place and made my insides freeze up, even though my body was physically warm and content.
Light blue box. New York. Ugh.
What to say, what to say… “Tiffany’s, huh? Wow, um, you shouldn’t have.”
On top of it being a Tiffany’s box, it was ring size. Double ugh.
There were so many things going through my head at that point, it felt like my brain was doing eighty on Lake Shore Drive.
Rad tapped an index finger against my temple. “You’re thinking too much again.”
Right. Taking the box with shaking fingers, I untied the white ribbon and held my breath as I eased the lid off.
Nestled inside was a tricked-out Hello Kitty pendant. She was sporting a Santa hat and red bow and holding a wrapped present. My heart melted a little. “I love it.”
I love you.
I couldn’t say those words, but the ones I did speak out loud were true. I did love the pendant and the fact he’d thought of me while he was in New York. Even with the obvious Christmas overtones, the pendant was gorgeous. She sparkled and had that sly look in her eyes that always made me laugh. I even loved the little blue box she came in.
Merde. I was turning into a complete mush. Sliding an arm around Rad’s neck, I kissed him as the sun lost its fight with the night and disappeared.
We made out like a couple of high schoolers for a few minutes, then I heard a car door slam in the parking lot. Shit, I’d forgotten about Salmad and Vicky being delivered to my doorstep.
We gathered up the blankets and Rad snapped his fingers and doused the fire. On the way back downstairs, I avoided eye contact. This was it. He would be heading off to join the Noctifectors at Chloe’s. I’d be totally winging a plan to trap Maria so she couldn’t hide Toel or harm the others. If things worked, we’d be back here tomorrow. If they didn’t…
In my bedroom, I left Rad’s shirt on, grabbed my fully-stocked cape of weapons that Cole had returned to me from the Institute, and strung the Hello Kitty pendant on a platinum chain. She slipped under Rad’s shirt and warmed instantly against my skin. Last but not least, I stroked Volante and allowed her to snake around my waist. She tightened briefly in a small hug.
Downstairs, Vicky waited at the front door, four Undead bodyguards surrounding her. I let them in and had the bodyguards escort her to my basement where a special room like Damon’s at the Institute awaited her. A panic room of sorts in case I ever needed it, but I’d never stocked it, so it was more of a prison cell than anything, embedded with magic to protect what was inside. A touch of my hand, and it switched directions, stopping what was inside from leaving.
Victoria’s red hair stuck out from her head and she looked gaunt. Her pupils were red. Dru had starved her and I hoped that didn’t deaden her magical abilities too much. Otherwise, she’d be useless to me when the time came.
“Make yourself at home,” I told her, reinforcing the cell’s door as it closed. She sneered and tried to spit on me, but the cell’s magic blocked it.
The head bodyguard extended a hand gloved in leather and we shook. “Asmund.”
“Kali.”
He gave me a nod, but it was full of challenge. Dru had apparently warned him I was a renegade. “We stay here by orders of Master Alexandru.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do you have a cellphone? I’ll text you when I’m ready for her.”
We exchanged numbers and I left the Undead crew to go back upstairs. Salmad paced in front of the fireplace while Rad lounged on the single spot of the sectional free of bloodstains. I wasn’t sure if Salmad was pacing because of the intense glare Rad was giving him or because of the blood. Probably both.
“How’s the head?” I asked the priest, wondering if he knew Rad was actually a Noctifector and not as badass as he was pretending.
Salmad stopped pacing and touched the fine short hairs at the back of his skull. “The archdemon relieved my pain. He has remarkable abilities.”
“That he does.” Especially in the piss-off-Kali-department. “Did he explain the plan for tonight?”
“Yes, although I’m unsure of my part in this plan.”
“How much do you know about ghosts?”
Salmad’s beautiful blue eyes locked with mine. “Enough.”
“Good.”
Time to set my plan into motion. I gave Rad a be careful out there nod and he returned the same. Yeah, we both sucked at saying goodbye and neither of us wanted to admit, even to ourselves, that this might really be goodbye.
I motioned for the priest to follow me. “Let’s get Toel and Maria on the road to hell.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Salmad followed me out the backdoor of the church. The day had warmed enough to melt some of the snow, forming a crusty top layer. A sliver of moon peeked out from behind heavy clouds as our boots crunched in the snow.
“How is it you’re a priest?” I asked, leading us to the cemetery’s ancient iron gate.
He looked surprised at the question, his angular cheeks more pronounced in the moonlight.
I stopped to explain. “Sacred ground, holy water, vows to serve God. Not exactly happy hour at the demon bar. I mean, how can you even walk inside a church?”
He motioned at my home. “The same way you can. I have great good as well as evil inside me. Almost like a human.”
“There’s only one area of that church that’s consecrated, the inner sanctum, and I stay the hell out of there.”
“Have you ever tried entering it?”
“No, and I don’t intend to push my luck.”
“Your fear is what traps you, not your vice.”
Easy for him to say. My fingers still tingled when I remembered how his holy belt had burned them at the Institute. I may have had good and evil inside me, but there was definitely more evil.
His gaze moved over the cemetery, analyzing. “What happened here?”
“A war between good and evil.” We continued walking. The gate creaked as I opened it and the magical barriers I’d erected around the acre of land shivered at my touch. “Evil won.”
A small hmm escaped his lips, his breath turning white. He touched the gate, stroked one of the iron bars and drew back his hand. “And were you present during this war?”
“I came afterwards. Dark earth magic resides here. Human souls were sacrificed on a massive scale, possibly to Death himself. Be prepared when you enter.”
I stepped across the threshold, felt the rush of magic. My demon woke and welcomed the skittering evil as it danced over my skin, infiltrated my body. The sensation was like coming home to my demon and she reveled in it.
Invisible fingers of magic probed me from head to foot, poking and teasing. Around my waist, Volante shivered with delight. Even though the war and sacrifice had been centuries ago, she sensed the blood that had been spilled there like a cat sensing catnip. She wanted to play.
Salmad’s face was shadowed by the low hanging trees surrounding the area, but his eyes caught a shaft of moonlight and flashed silver. He regarded the threshold with unease. “Why do you have this place so heavily spelled?”
The spells I’d placed on the area were thick as fog
. Inside the perimeter, I couldn’t hear the normal night sounds outside. “The cemetery contains a portal. One I used not long ago to send Lilith back to hell. There’s no telling what might come out of it if I don’t keep it under spell and key.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Pseudothyrum infernum?”
A secret door to hell. “Pretty much. We refer to it in America as a hellmouth thanks to Buffy.”
“This Buffy, is she keeper of the door?”
Only in JR’s world. “For now, I’m the keeper of the door.”
He still hadn’t crossed the threshold. “You cannot send Maria into the pseudothryrum.”
“Why not? I exorcised Lilith here. I’ll do the same to Maria.”
A female voice, full of irritation, called from behind Salmad. The soft crunch of snow filtered across the cemetery’s threshold. “Because she’s not in a physical body.”
Neve. I shoved Salmad out of the way to see my friend fighting her wheelchair to move it across the snow. The fat tires on the wheels and the layer of frozen snow on top kept her from sinking too far in, but she still had to wrestle against the uneven path and the magic meant to repel humans. “What are you doing here?”
The wheelchair’s motor revved. So did Neve’s emotions. “Di told me you were trying to stop Maria. I came to help.”
“For the love of the devil, humans are not allowed in the cemetery. And what do you mean she has to be in a physical body? Why can’t I exorcise her spirit? You force spirits to cross over all the time.”
Neve’s coated chest heaved with exertion. Normally, I would have helped her out—against her protests since she hated for anyone to help her—but this was no place for a human. “This is why you need me. You don’t know jack about ghosts. I don’t force them. The spirits choose to move on after my counseling.”
“You cannot come in here.”
She kept rolling, her finger steady on the forward control and aiming the wheelchair at my legs. “Get out of the way.”
Great. I was going to have to manhandle a woman in a wheelchair. “Neve, don’t be stupid. There is nasty dark magic swirling around in here. Even the priest doesn’t want to come in.”
She pulled up next to Salmad, gave him a nod. “Neve Vaselli. Ghost whisperer.”
“Salmad de Roca. Priest.”
“JR said you were a Templar knight.”
Salmad glanced at me, back to Neve. “Once.”
“Were all the Templar knights supernaturals?”
“Only a few.”
“This is all fascinating,” I interrupted. “But Sal and I have business to get to, and no, you are not helping us.”
Neve’s eyes shot silver stakes at my heart. “Excuse me, but who’s being stupid here? You need a professional ghost whisperer and you have one. I’m perfectly capable of handling whatever ghosts and dark magic are inside there.”
God. Damn.
Satan be damned too. Behind me, the fingers of magic reached forward, wanting to grab Neve and drag her inside. Touching my fingers to the gate, I let go of a zap of vengeful energy that sent the dark magic reeling. Then I leaned forward and set my hands on the arms of her chair. “I love you, Neve, from the bottom of my worthless heart, and I mean this with all due respect, but you either leave on your own or I will carry your skinny, human, wheel-chaired ass back to that church and lock you inside.”
“Picking on a poor disabled woman, are you? What would your mother say?”
She only went for the disabled label when she knew she was losing an argument. Topping it off by mentioning my mother in order to push my buttons meant she was desperate to get in on the action.
I wished I could let her. “Don’t turn this into a lecture on political correctness. I’m not an equal opportunity demon and you’re about as disabled as I am. But this cemetery? It will eat you alive and spit out what’s left, which won’t be much, and then those leftovers will get a one-way ticket to some other plane of existence. One you won’t like.” I straightened and planted my feet. “You’re not crossing this threshold, my dear, so back the hell off.”
“I can’t believe you.” Petulant. “You are such a bitch.”
Humans. Say no and you’ve thrown down a challenge. Problem is, determination alone won’t save their skin against evil. “I’m also your friend and I care what happens to you, so deal.”
“Fine. I’ll coach from the sidelines.”
It wasn’t a bad idea except for the fact Neve had no intention of sitting on the bench. I could see the truth in her eyes, smell it on the wind. “I appreciate the offer, but the only safe place for you is inside my house or back home in yours.”
Her brain was working overtime. “Why can’t you put a protection spell on me?”
If only it were that easy to protect the ones I loved. “Because I’m not a witch. My magic protects me and me only. I’m a demon. We’re selfish that way.”
“You protect the church.” She nodded her chin at the ground behind me. “And the cemetery.”
“Different types of spells and both are still for my safety as much as anyone else’s.”
She stewed some more and I resisted the urge to tap my foot. Sunset was long over and I needed to get started on trapping Maria or the others would fail to capture Toel and stop the vampire war he was bringing.
I sent a quick text to Asmund and motioned for Salmad to cross the threshold. He hesitated but drew a deep breath and took the plunge. He didn’t explode, which relieved his mind, and he exhaled loudly.
Leaning over, I hugged Neve. “Sorry to argue and run, but I really need to get on with this. A lot of people’s lives, both human and supernatural, depend on me.”
Neve huffed out a sigh and hugged me back. “I’m worried about you. This ghost is stronger than any I’ve encountered and you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Aha. All that bluster was because she was worried about me getting my ass kicked. My heart warmed. “I know Maria better than anyone else, no matter what form she’s in. She’s an enemy whom I’m well acquainted with. Salmad knows her too. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Platitudes suck, I know, but toss a worried human in front of me and there you go.
Asmund and crew appeared on the path behind Neve, Vicky’s wild hair the only thing visible about her as the oversize bodyguards stuck close. The path was barely wide enough for Neve’s wheelchair, much less four hulking vampires and their prisoner. They moved as one, and in the shadowed yard, it was an ominous sight. The Undead magic rolling off them made all of my instincts scream fight.
As they neared, Asmund looked to me for guidance: was he supposed to go around Neve or move her out of the way?
He and his posse were so big, there was no way they would fit around her and still maintain their positions. “Neve,” I said, motioning my head at the group. “Go back to the house and stay warm. Asmund will IM you with any questions I have and you can help me from there. Deal?”
An air of renewed confidence straightened her spine. Her teeth flashed in the darkness. “Do you have any ginger green tea in the pantry?”
She knew I did. I kept a tin of the pricey imported stuff just for her. “If you didn’t drink it all the last time you were here.”
Waving a finger at me, she turned her wheelchair in the snow, parting the bodyguards and nearly running into Vicky.
The red-haired bitch snarled at her. “Watch where you’re going, cripple.”
Without missing a beat or a turn of her wheels, Neve pulled out a stake I’d given her eons ago and cracked Vicky across the front of her knees. The stake was rosewood. Hard, dense and heavy. I preferred my stakes a little lighter since I carried them in specially made pockets inside my cape, but other vamp hunters liked the weightiness of rosewood. I’d given the stake to Neve when I decided to switch to cherry wood and she used it as a truncheon.
A crunching sound resonated in the winter night as Vicky screamed and dropped to the snow. Her hands were bound behind her, but
before she pitched forward, Asmund grabbed her by the jacket and lifted her from the ground.
See what I mean about Neve being about as disabled as I am? Her motto was roll softly and carry a big stick.
Dangling in the air, Vicky screamed obscenities at Neve who sat there and smiled. As always, Vicky’s simple presence pissed me off so adding the fact she’d insulted my friend and was now screaming at her, made my vengeance demon roar with anger. I caught Asmund’s eye and gave him the sign to bring Vicky to the threshold.
Asmund held Vicky in front of me and I slapped her face. “Shut up or I’ll stake you right here.”
Her knees weren’t working too well after the clubbing, but she still kicked out at me, adding a few choice descriptions to her verbal tirade. I started to grab my own stake out of my cape when Asmund turned Vicky by her scruff and brought his face even with hers, stopping her kicks with his massive legs. “You do not talk to the queen of the Central Region like that. You do not raise your voice to her.”
Vicky loved powerful men, dead or Undead, and the one holding her in the air radiated power in all directions. “I pledge no allegiance to your queen.” Even in the dim light, her eyes flashed with an inviting dare. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She was wrong on that count. Asmund used his other hand to grab her hair and yank her head back, exposing her neck to his now descended fangs. In one swift movement, he lunged, sinking his fangs into the pale skin waiting for him.
But he didn’t drink. Her body arched and then went stiff as a mannequin. A frozen ballerina.
Neve’s eyes went wide. Salmad’s did as well. “Don’t kill her,” I yelled.
He ripped a hole in her neck, not bothering to retract his fangs before releasing his hold there. Then he set her on her feet in front of me where she wobbled, body still rigid in the cold night air.
“Bow,” he commanded.
A single word, but growled with so much emphasis, I swear the ground under my boots vibrated.