Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  “We already have the blood of a necromancer, but if you’d like to add a little more oomph, you can contribute some of your Creator blood, too,” Deidra suggested.

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  I wiped the blade across my jeans, so I could get rid of the ectoplasm all over it. That was not the time to find out what would happen if I contaminated my blood with the green goo from a ghost.

  The stone walls in the tomb seemed to close in on me the longer I knelt over the trap door. Fire pulsed from lit sconces, shadows danced between sparks of light, only to be swallowed up by darkness. My heart was beating wildly as I slit my palm.

  I will find you, I silently promised Kristina as my blood dripped, intermingling with the others’ offerings. As soon as the first drops of my blood hit the stone, Deidra began to chant. The earth beneath our feet awakened and quaked. In the space of a heartbeat, the door keeping me from my woman cracked open.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I trudged up the marble steps. When I reached the top, I had to crane my neck around Wolf’s wide shoulders to get a good look, and what I saw shocked me. I was expecting someone or something that was violent or ugly-looking, maybe even a monster like one of the ghouls. Instead, a beautiful woman lay on the bed. She was the picture of perfection with her creamy, white, porcelain-like skin. The sleeping beauty had a heart-shaped face that came to a fragile peak at the smooth curve of her chin. She had a petite nose that was straight, perking up at the tip. The long bridge was nestled between two oval eyes. Dark black lashes accentuated her eyes over symmetrically contoured high cheek bones. Her hair was red and extremely long, reaching to her knees. The luscious locks draped in a cascading wave over the blanket that was covering her petite body.

  Then in a blink, the body before me morphed into someone else, another woman of equal beauty who gave off an essence of danger—a predator hovering over the other woman’s body. I had no doubt that the new woman could hold her own in any situation, with sculpted arms and muscled thighs that bulged underneath a pair of tight leather pants. A ripped stomach that could only be called an eight pack, hard and impressive, was barely covered by a matching leather halter top. Her dark brown hair was long, but not as long as the first woman’s, whose flaming tresses seemed never ending.

  The warrior woman was well armed with daggers at each side of her hips and a long sword that was strapped to her back. The leather harness that secured the sword ran snugly between her breasts. Alarm bells began to ring in my head, the more I took in the fierce woman’s features. Her nose had the same shape as my sister’s, and the dark brown shade of her hair was a match to my own. We also shared quite a few more traits. Our bone structure was similar, as well as our above-average height and curvy build. Somehow, I knew that if she were to open her eyes, they would be emerald green…just like mine and my sister’s. All the Chase women had bright, vivid green eyes. The dark-haired woman was my kin, and if I believed what Wolf was rambling on about earlier, that would mean I was standing over the body of my grandmother, Lilly Chase.

  “What did you do to her?” I screamed. My hand flew to the base of my neck. My breath struggled to come out. “Release my grandmother. Now!”

  “If I could, I wouldn’t need you, now would I, necromancer?”

  I swung on him, my fist denting his cheek, and by the satisfying crack I heard on impact, it seemed I must have fractured a bone in his face. Wolf fell back, a quick hand flashing out to catch the edge of the bed, saving him from a viscous fall down the stairs. How I wished the scumbag had cracked his skull on those steps. His eyes widened, blood trickling between the fingers covering his face where I clocked him a good one. He glanced over to the women trapped in a coma-like state on the bed, and then his eyes swung back to me. He stood, righting himself.

  “I’m in no mood for little girl tantrums. Grab your dagger and the locket. The quicker we start, the sooner we can free them. It’s a win-win situation, really.”

  I felt like I was in way over my head, playing a game where I didn’t know all the moves, or even the point of it. Good or bad, there was a reason behind Lilly trapping something inside her own body. My instincts were nagging me hard, leading me to believe that she did set the trap on purpose.

  Grandma Lilly had a reputation in the family for being ruthless and cunning. Someone as intelligent as she was wouldn’t likely end up vulnerable like that under any other circumstances. But even the best laid plans fail, the sturdiest bridges crumble, and considering what I was about to do…the strongest of instincts were ignored. My grandmother was reputed to be a stone-cold, real grit and bone warrior. I was extremely attuned to battle. Hard, but still yielding—a sucker for anyone in need. That meant I couldn’t leave her that way, to rot with a phantom squatting inside her. Sometimes I had too much compassion and not enough common sense.

  I took out my dagger; the hilt fit snug in my hand, a perfect fit. My skin warmed and tingled in anticipation, welcoming the magic it could unleash. “What do I have to do to save her?”

  Wolf pushed his fingers between his teeth, his face still dripping with blood. He let out a whistle like the one from before. On cue, his two vampire lovers entered the room. They held a woman between them, guiding her forward by the arms. The woman they held had red hair that was spun into a loose bun atop her head, errant strands of scarlet falling haphazardly around a beautiful face. The woman walked with grace, trying in vain to hide the fear that was evident in her eyes. I noticed that she bore a strong resemblance to the woman that hovered like a ghost over the body of my grandmother.

  “Who is she?” I asked Wolf.

  “She is my mistress’s vessel. Don’t worry. Her consent was necessary in this ritual. Her body is a gift.”

  I looked over at the woman. She knelt at the base of the stairs, head bowed.

  “Whatever.”

  The woman shuddered.

  “I’m not doing this if she’s here under duress.”

  The woman began to laugh. The curve of her slender neck was the only thing visible under the loose coils of her hair. “I bargained for this, and I am here of my own free will,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the chamber.

  “See there. Your conscience will be clear. Can we get on with this?” Wolf said.

  I pressed my knees against the mattress and set the dagger down next to me on the lavender comforter. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the locket. The beautiful antique chain belonged to Lilly. Wolf had explained that a personal object was needed in order for me to anchor myself to Lilly during the ritual I was about to perform.

  Apparently, my grandmother was dead, her body still intact because of the phantom trapped inside it. I needed to bring her back to life in order for the phantom inside her to escape. What happened after that, I didn’t know. Nothing good, would be my guess.

  I almost backed out of performing the ritual altogether, but Wolf threatened to pop back up to my realm, so he could kill not only Torra, but anyone else I cared for, Rush included.

  My heart sank at the thought of Rush. I wondered if he was okay and if he was able to get Torra out of the cemetery. I remembered the sweet taste of his lips and the feel of his skin as it slid across mine.

  I shivered away such thoughts and focused on Wolf. I was hoping that once Lilly was in the picture, she would aid me in hunting him down and seeking my revenge on him. That was always in the back of my mind, the ever-present need to kill Wolf for everything he did to Torra and for what he was doing to me.

  A selfish part of me was excited to finally meet my grandmother. God knew that I never really had a mother figure in my life. Lizet Chase’s main concern had always been herself, so a little part of me—the lonely girl buried deep inside that was always in search of a mother to love her— reached out to Lilly. I was human, and as such, a dreamer, captive to all sorts of emotional baggage. Believe me, I didn’t like it one bit. I always preferred to travel lightly.

  I wrapped the chain around my index finger, the
oval locket dangling and swinging like a pendulum. With my other hand, I picked up the dagger. The slice across my palm didn’t hurt much; it only tingled and stung a little as the blood welled to the surface. I outlined the shared body on the bed with my own blood, squeezing the wound, draining my veins, until it was finally time to stop on other side of the bed.

  My body hummed with pent-up energy, the power inside anxious to be released. I walked to the foot of the bed, careful not to disturb the salt I’d already circled around the perimeter, and held out my hands, palms facing out. White light burst forth, landing on the body before me. Foreign words trickled out from between my lips, fluid and beautiful. I would never be able to repeat them on purpose, but in that moment and in my mind, I knew what the words meant. The spell they cast as old as time and as comfortable to me as coming home.

  The world spun around me, doors opening and closing from other dimensions, time and space, life and death. It all flashed in a whirl, circling me in a blur of motion. All I had to do was choose a door to use as I saw fit, the contents available to me behind it. I chose the door that flashed like a beacon of life, bright and blinding. The light cascading out of my hands blinked, and then in a rush of icy renewal, the beam changed, brightening to a blinding pitch to become life itself.

  Lilly’s body jumped, bowing in the middle. I could feel the life pouring inside her. I felt the exact moment her soul became present and entered her body. The rage that crashed into me made me stumble, my feet scrambling for purchase as I kept my arms outstretched. As quickly as the rage flared, it extinguished.

  I took a fortifying breath and pushed even harder. A scream shattered my concentration, and my arms dropped to my sides. I watched as a bubble-like substance began to rise from Lilly’s body. It pulled and bulged, inflating larger and larger still, until a snap sounded. Another screech, followed by devastating laughter, rang out. The evil chuckle that followed came from behind. Wolf leapt out of his body in a fog of smoke. The man he had inhabited fell like a brick, unconscious, maybe even dead. I didn’t have time to worry about him, though; I had to keep my eyes peeled on the dizzying events unfolding before me.

  My grandmother shot to her feet, her eyes frantically skipping across the room, searching and assessing any possible danger. She was amazing. She didn’t miss a square inch of space. She crouched low and unsheathed both daggers at her hips, pointing them at the redhead who scrambled from her crouch at the base of the steps.

  Those feral eyes landed on me, then lit up with instant recognition. I wanted to hide from the accusation shining in the depths of those green pools. Her head tilted at the crest-fallen look shattering across my face. Her expression softened, and she gave me a hurried smile. Meanwhile, her eyes never stopped their scrutiny of the room. She saw everything. I was so busy watching my grandmother that I didn’t notice the phantom mistress as she sped from the room. All I saw was the tail end of Wolf’s spectral form as it disappeared behind a door I hadn’t noticed before.

  “You should’ve never brought me back, sweet daughter. But no use crying over spilt milk. Hop your ass over here and get ready for the fight of your life,” Lilly said.

  I didn’t hesitate, just followed her order. My heart swelled at the term of endearment she’d used for me. I was already attached to her and would fight the devil himself if it meant being able to keep her.

  My body slid in a crouch next to hers. I squeezed my own dagger tightly in my grip.

  “Wolf and his mistress fled. What is left to fight?” I asked, slipping straight into full-on combat mode. My blood was pumping with adrenaline, and my fingers tingled in anticipation of an impending battle.

  She looked over at me. It was brief, but she smiled at my response. “I would guess, at least ten ghouls and a few phantom-leeches. I’ve been dead a while, but that was the count last time I checked. Numbers could have increased.”

  “I saw two vampire brides and at least twenty ghouls on my way down here. Oh, there were also three butt-ugly hellhounds.” My face scrunched up with disgust.

  Lilly’s face paled. The muscles that made up most of her arms flexed as she squeezed the hilt of her daggers. “Has the Center adequately trained you in All-species Combat?” The question was quick, clipped.

  “I’ve decided to have nothing to do with the Center. Long story short, I don’t agree with their politics.”

  Her shoulders slumped a little. The movement was slight, but I caught it. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I added, “But don’t worry. I can fight, Lilly. I’m no stranger to violence or having to do what’s necessary in order to protect myself and others, even if it means killing the boogeyman.”

  Her gaze slid in my direction. She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “There are a few things you need to know. Ghouls and hounds can only be killed by chopping off their heads. You can easily drain a vampire if you’re strong enough with your light. And phantoms can’t harm us in their natural state. They can order hellhounds and ghouls to attack, however, so keep an eye out for them, too. Let’s hope between my training and experience, and your instincts to survive, we make it out of here alive.”

  “I’m sorry if I messed things up.”

  With the dagger still gripped firmly in her hand, she reached over and patted my shoulder. “We can talk about that later, dear. Let’s concentrate on getting our asses clear of this place first. And in order for that to happen, I need your anger, not your sympathies.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The steep and crowded stairs we descended ended and opened into a cold, circular space. A door loomed across the small room, and I ran for it, anxious to open it. In my head, Kristina was waiting for me only a few feet away, a single door, the only thing standing between us. But setting daydreams aside, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple. I reached for the knob and started to turn. A low growl broke through the wooden barrier, a warning from the other side. I swallowed and backed up.

  “I think we’re about to run into a bit of trouble,” I said.

  Deidra drifted past everyone and stopped in front of the door to hover next to me.

  “Hellhounds,” she said with a grimace.

  “What is a hellhound, and how do we kill it?” Torra asked.

  “Good question,” Rafe added.

  Everyone was surrounding the door, but not one of us was willing to open it.

  “Well, here’s the rub. Unless you lop off their heads, you can’t,” Deidra explained. She was floating back and forth, a finger tapping on her chin. Then suddenly, her face smoothed out and she gave Rafe a piercing smile.

  “How come all your wonderful ideas involve me?” Rafe asked as Deidra stared him down.

  “Be happy you’re useful,” Torra grunted. “I haven’t gotten the chance to do anything fun yet. If I had a sword, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Deidra clucked her tongue at her granddaughter. “You remind me of my daughter, always so eager to jump in the fire, no matter how hot it burns.”

  Torra beamed, taking her grandmother’s words as praise. I had a feeling they were meant to have the opposite effect. “I would’ve loved to have met her,” she said.

  As she turned around to face me, Deidra said, “You may soon get your wish, granddaughter.”

  Rafe reached for the knob, and after a quick turn, it opened. The vampire poked his head out. With a yelp, he slipped back in, slamming the door shut behind him. Twirling like a tornado, he banged his back up against the door, his head shaking back and forth, crazed. “Those hounds are fuckin’ ugly and huge!”

  Torra moved up behind me. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “What could possibly scare a vampire like that?”

  I faced her. Gold hair framed her face. Eyes, the same hue as Kristina’s, only missing that tiny spark that lit up my heart like a blazing inferno, were wide and curious. Even though the young woman had a mouth like a sailor and a beat-down switch that could be triggered at the drop of a hat, she was still vulnerable and a bit fr
ightened at the core. She tried to hide the tremble of her bottom lip, a good chance that to her, fear equated to weakness. But the bravest of warriors who knew better would consider being scared in a dangerous situation a much respected and necessary survival skill.

  The door banged against Rafe’s back, a relentless pounding that bowed the wood. He dug his feet into the ground, pushing back, forcing the door to stay closed with leverage and his incredible supernatural strength.

  “It’s decision time, folks. Are we to make a stand, or shall we run like a bunch of sissies?” Rafe’s words were strangled and his strength was weakening against the hellhounds’ unyielding assault.

  My eyebrows rose. I squeezed the dagger in my hand and bent at the knees, finding my center. Torra took in a deep, calming breath, slipping into the space by my side. Deidra floated up to the ceiling, moving out of our way. She knew that she wouldn’t be any help in the fight.

  “By all means, show our visitors in,” I growled.

  Loud, terrifying, and long roars preceded the monsters’ swift entrance. The sound was, in essence, a manifestation of evil. All I could see were black streaks of fur and fang flying through the air, willing to shred anything in their path. My arm swung out, pushing Torra out of the way, just in time to save her from being bowled over by one of the flesh and bone torpedoes, before I hurdled to the side. I landed hard, rolling into a sideways somersault to cushion the impact, barely escaping the hellhound’s claws. There were three of them, black and sleek monsters with long, dripping fangs and red, glowing eyes that were frozen on us as they leapt through the air. One after the other, they landed to circle around the room. Low and intense growls tumbled from their heaving chests, the terror-inducing rumbles ricocheting off the walls. The devil dogs paced methodically, stalking us like prey.

  My legs moved into action. I held the knife in my grip with certainty, but not too tightly. Body movements were instinctive, hard training lending to muscle memory. Even my thoughts echoed my training. These beasts were clever, wrangling us into a tight group in the middle of the room. We would be sitting ducks if I was to let that happen.