I hugged myself in the cold and watched him drive away. Once he was down the road, I leaned into the doorway and retrieved my coat, slipping it on.
“Erasmus!” I rasped, peering into the shadows. Had I imagined it? “Erasmus, where are you?”
“Here.”
I whirled. And there he was, in the flesh. Dark hair flopping over his brooding eyes, mouth twisted in a sneer, black leather duster hanging from his shoulders. Ed was suddenly forgotten. I almost stepped forward close enough to be in his personal space, but then held back. “Where have you been?”
“Away. But I see you wasted no time.”
“You told me to move on.”
“I didn’t know you could so easily take it to heart.”
“That’s not fair.”
He turned away, duster whirling around him. “What have you and your little Wiccans done? I cannot gain entrance.”
“They…did a spell. To keep evil away.”
“Ah.” He frowned.
“You were gone. I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t know if you were coming back.”
“I am tied to the book. You know this. There is nowhere for me to go.”
I breathed, giddy with relief. He was all right! I wanted to punch his face.
“I’m going to need your help,” I said.
“I know.”
He said nothing more and I sighed, leaning against the rough clapboards. “Do you know what’s out there? Ed said that two women are missing.”
Still he didn’t speak. But I watched his profile, watched him lift his head. His patrician nose sniffed the wind. “Something…” he said quietly.
I moved closer to him then. Without thinking, I laid a hand on his arm. His head snapped down, looking at my fingers on his sleeve. Drawing them back, I mumbled a quiet apology. He huffed a noise, dismissing it.
“Do you still have the crossbow?” he said.
“Of course.”
“And my amulet?”
I tugged it out from under my sweater and showed him. He glanced at it and turned away again. “You never tried to summon me.”
“I didn’t see the use. You just vanished.”
“Sometimes I must. But you bear my amulet. I told you. All you need do is call.”
“So…literally? I just go outside and call your name?”
He sighed dramatically. “Yes! What about all this seems so hard for you to grasp?”
And there was our old irascible Erasmus.
“I get the concept, idiot.”
“What did you just call me?”
“We don’t have time for this. And it’s cold. Could you just find out what’s out there and let me know?”
“I’m not your servant.”
“And yet I have this.” I held up the amulet. “And you come when I call. Isn’t that the definition of—”
“Off you go then.” He made ushering movements with his hands.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I was relieved. I wanted to hug him. He’d hate that. It made me want to hug him all the more.
Turning toward the front door, I stopped. “Are you sure you can’t get in?”
“The house is warded.”
“Are you sure there are no loopholes?”
His gaze slid toward mine. “Are you wondering if you’ll be safe…or about a way to get me…inside.” He said the last so salaciously my throat went dry. I swallowed.
“You’re a…naughty demon, aren’t you?”
He turned his face but not in time to hide his smile. “Get inside before you freeze.”
“Do you need anything? I have brandy.”
He frowned. “Brandy? I wouldn’t mind.”
I hurried inside, snatched up my glass, and filled it again before running back outside. “Here you go.”
He took the glass by the stem and held it up to the moonlight. Then he dunked his nose inside the bowl and sniffed.
“It’s supposed to be decent stuff.”
He gave me an “I’ll be the judge of that” look. He sipped, rolled it in his mouth, and swallowed. Tilting his head, he shrugged.
I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re full of it.”
“I beg your pardon. I have lived for thousands of years. I’ve certainly had my share of spirits.”
“Sure. But this doesn’t compare to Netherworld booze, blah, blah, blah.”
He postured with the glass still aloft. “There’s something not quite right about you.”
I grinned.
He drank while I stood there, hands thrust in my coat pockets, trying to keep warm. I didn’t want to go in just yet.
“So…” he said. He stared down into his glass. “You, er, went on another date with that man.”
There was a part of me that reveled in his obvious jealousy. Then the realization struck me that he had probably been hanging around even though I couldn’t see him. “Were you following me?”
He considered, as if he didn’t quite understand the question. In the end, he merely ignored it and took another drink.
I crossed my arms. “And so you were reduced to a peeping tom.”
“I am nothing of the sort.”
“I saw you through the window.”
“Because I couldn’t get in.”
“So how long were you planning on standing there?” I was tapping my foot now.
He shrugged one shoulder and drank.
“Perv.”
“I’m not the one throwing myself at the nearest male under forty.”
He knew he’d gone too far. Before I could explode, he downed the brandy and offered me back the empty glass. “Thank you.”
I grabbed it out of his hand with the idea of throwing it against the wall. He raised a hand. “Don’t you think it would be wise to do a little hunting?”
I stopped in mid-throw. “What? Now?”
“Of course now.”
“But we don’t know what we’re looking for.”
“That shouldn’t stop the Chosen Host, now should it?”
I hated when he called me that. “Let me get a hat…and my crossbow.”
I took my knit hat from the hall tree. The chthonic crossbow whistled in the air, coming toward me from its hiding place upstairs. I put out my hand automatically and caught it. Chosen Host stuff.
I grabbed a scarf, wrapped it around my neck, and locked up the place. “A-hunting we will go,” I hummed. “Where to?” I asked.
He raised his face and sniffed the air, then pointed toward the forest behind the house. “Let’s try that way.”
I hated the idea of hunting blind…but I couldn’t help but feel a little thrill to be with Erasmus again. Which was completely stupid and wrong. I could have been in the strong embrace of Sheriff Ed…and a fine embrace it was. If only I hadn’t looked out the window. Had I left those curtains open slightly on purpose? Freud 1, Kylie 0.
I stuffed the crossbow under my arm and dug my gloves out of my mackinaw’s pockets. The crossbow hadn’t loaded itself. I checked. It had the habit of picking just the right quarrel from its many hiding places on the hilt. Each one—ten, to be exact—was made of a different wood, point, and fletching. The crossbow knew just what was needed to defeat whatever beastie was about. And a good thing, too, because the Booke didn’t come with an instruction manual. It enjoyed its mayhem. I felt that much coming off it.
I gripped the crossbow again, ready when it was. But the woods were dark, and the moon was setting. And I had forgotten my phone again.
I followed Erasmus. He moved noiselessly, like he always did, while I, the stumbling, bumbling human, made the biggest racket crunching through leaves, breaking twigs and branches in my path, and swearing as I tripped again and again.
“Is there no sound you can’t make?” he sneered at me.
“It’s not easy to do this in the dark, you know.”
He didn’t bother turning back or replying. A subtle shaking of
his head sufficed.
We traveled downward. There was a bit of a path, which made the going easier. The forest ahead seemed to rise, hills emerging around us. I tried to note where we were in case we got separated. I knew he’d try to protect me. It was his job, though I was a little sketchy on the whole demon/Booke dynamic. The Booke was, apparently, far older than the Powers That Be, and they assigned a demon to close up the Booke whenever it was opened. They didn’t like the idea of things existing over which they had no control.
“Erasmus?”
He slowed to a stop, sniffed the air, and then finally turned. His eyes were deep holes in the dark, but they glittered from starlight, making them seem more human.
“The Booke is still such an enigma,” I said. “The Powers That Be don’t like it, but their big plan was to put a demon on it? If they are so powerful, couldn’t they have come up with a better solution?”
“I don’t like talking about them.”
“Why? Are they eavesdropping?”
“Beelze’s tail, I hope not.” When he looked back at me he must have seen the concern in my eyes. He stopped to face me. “They cannot see or hear what transpires on this plane except through the eyes of their own demon servants.”
“Like you.”
“Not quite. In order to communicate with them, I must travel to the Netherworld.”
“What’s it like? Is it very Dante’s Inferno?”
He sneered. I guess no one likes their world reduced to a cliché. “No. I do not know why you creatures give such credence to the unremarkable ramblings of a bad poet. He’s never been there, I can assure you.”
“Okay. But…what is it like? Do you…like it there?”
He turned abruptly and headed into the forest again. I double-timed it to catch up. “I wouldn’t say I necessarily ‘liked’ it. It is familiar.”
“Are you saying you like it better here?”
“I said nothing of the kind.”
“But…do you?”
He kept walking. “There are certain aspects of this place to recommend it.”
I couldn’t help but smile. And wonder. Was one of those things…me? That’s stupid, Kylie. Don’t think that. Not for one second.
Then I thought about the day he left. It was so messed up in so many different ways.
“Why did you go away?” I blurted. “Was it because of Baphomet?” Good save, Kylie.
“Do not utter his name. He might think you are summoning him.”
“Oh shoot. Okay. How about…‘Goat Guy’?”
He stopped again and turned, mouth hanging slightly open.
“Was that why you had to disappear? Do you and…Goat Guy…have a conflict of some kind?”
I saw him incredulously mouth the words “Goat Guy” before he answered. “We…well. It is a long-standing animosity. Demons and gods typically don’t get along.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“As I have mentioned before, your ignorance on the subject is astoundingly unparalleled.”
“You’re such a sweet talker,” I murmured. But remembering that day sent chills down my spine. “You were transparent, like you were fading away.”
“It happens.”
I almost asked but his unwavering gaze told me that the subject was closed. Yet something else was still troubling me. I really didn’t know his full purpose. Guarding the Booke, yeah, I got that. But chasing the last Chosen Host to her doom? That was something I really wanted to—needed to—nail down. “Your tattoo.” I pointed vaguely toward his chest. “We discovered that it means ‘follower.’ Or…‘assassin.’ So…which is it?”
“You’re very inquisitive tonight.”
I squared my shoulders. “I sort of have to be. My life depends on it.”
He nodded. “So it does.” Looking off into the forest again, obviously reluctant to answer, he sighed. “I understand your concern, but there’s no need for it.”
“It’s just that…I really don’t know anything about you and less about the Booke. All I know about it and demons, I’ve gotten from you. And demons have a tendency—at least from what I’ve read—they have a tendency to lie.”
“So if I am lying to you, what good are my answers at all?”
“Because…I believe…you won’t lie to me.”
His eyes widened. He stood a long moment simply gazing at me. “Humans are foolish,” he said quietly. “And female humans are more foolish by far.”
I countered the weight of his gaze with my weary sigh. “Misogyny? Really?”
“Miss Strange…”
“I thought we’d moved on to ‘Kylie.’”
“Very well…Kylie…it is best to concentrate on the task ahead. There is much to do.”
And that was the best answer I was likely to get. I perched the butt of the crossbow on my hip. “Fine. Let’s go.” I moved forward, shouldering him out of the way.
Splashing sounded ahead. Must be a pond. Or as the locals called it, a bogan. I pushed past the bracken and found the ground squishy with mud and cattails. There was that distinctive stinky, marshy smell in the air. And the mist was suddenly thick, surrounding us in undulating waves.
They weren’t kidding when they named this place Moody Bog. There were lots of them. When the bog or bogan revealed itself beyond the thick trees, I saw something white in the distance. My heart stuttered, and fumbling with the crossbow, I got it into a position where I could aim. It had armed itself. Now my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I snuck a peek at the thing through the brambles…and saw it was only a horse. And the poor thing was stuck in the mud.
I lowered the crossbow but kept it ready, just in case whatever it was attacked the small, stocky pony.
I escaped the foliage and cooed toward the creature. “Hey, boy. Are you okay? We’ll get you out of this. Hey, Erasmus!”
Now where was he? Summon him, my ass. He was never around when I called him, despite what he said. Yup, Seraphina was right. Demons lie.
I approached the horse cautiously. After all, I was no horse person. The closest I ever got was those pony rides when I was a kid. I reached my hand out as if offering him something. Did I have anything to give? I plunged my hand into my pocket and found a butterscotch hard candy. I unwrapped it, stuffed the leftover cellophane back into my pocket, and held the candy in the palm of my hand. I seemed to remember that you should keep your palm flat so that their big teeth couldn’t nip at the soft skin of your cupped hand. I shuffled forward, one hand stretched out and the other holding a crossbow and awkwardly aiming it into the surrounding woods.
The horse nickered, lowering its head. It shuffled and splashed in the water. He’d obviously gotten loose from a barn or fenced field. He had no bridle. I could grab his mane to lead him around. Would a horse let you do that? I couldn’t leave it here. It might fall in and drown.
“Hey, boy.” I got closer. His mane was already soaked. He had probably struggled a long time in that bog trying to get out. “Poor thing.” I was close enough to almost give him the treat when he raised his head, looking interested, wide nostrils flaring and sniffing.
“Kylie! Stop at once and carefully step away.”
I looked back. Erasmus stood at some distance at the edge of the wood, like a shadow.
“It’s only a pony. He needs help. Something out here might be hunting it. My crossbow is armed.”
“Shoot it!”
“What? No! Are you crazy? This poor horse needs help. He’s stuck in the mud.”
“Kylie…listen very carefully. Listen to the sound of my voice. Step away from the beast.”
“Erasmus, he’s a poor dumb creature…Much like you,” I muttered the last. I lowered the crossbow and turned back toward the pony.
My jaw dropped. It was not a pony. Its mouth had opened to unnatural proportion. Instead of flat, square teeth, there was a mouth full of jagged canines. Its gentle eyes had morphed into
red, glowing lava, and it reared up and issued an unholy shriek. I startled back and fell.
“Shoot it!”
I heard the words distantly, but I couldn’t move. Instead of drawing the crossbow up to my shoulder and firing, I couldn’t look away from the transformed pony or the water that churned under its feet.
I felt myself rise, felt my feet walk closer to that mesmerizing water—water was cool and tranquil and offered a quiet, quiet peace, didn’t it?
A sound, almost something in the back of my mind, was chanting something like Shoot it! Shoot it! but it was nothing like the water, the peaceful, deep water. I dropped the heavy thing from my right hand and stretched out my arm. All I needed to do was touch that snowy hide, that wet mane. I just needed to touch it…
A dark shape swooped and knocked me down, and then rose up, crying out in a howl before the pony. The pony screamed again and dove into the bog. I didn’t think the bog was deep enough, but it disappeared under the churning waves, until all was still again. There were no howls and shrieks. Only the sound of dripping water, popping bubbles, and the quiet plop of a frog jumping into the pond.
It was like a mist had risen off my eyesight and brain. I had felt a little foggy, a little out of it. And then my senses returned with full force. I gasped and covered my mouth at what I had almost done, what had almost happened to me.
Erasmus’s arms suddenly surrounded me and I fell against him, sobbing. He held me tightly, brushing my hair away from my face. Soft murmurings of reassurance rumbled deep in his chest, and I melted into him, wiping at my cheek. Finally, with great effort, I pushed away and used my coat sleeve to clean the rest of my tears. I picked up the discarded crossbow. It had disarmed itself.
“W-what was that?” I rasped, still unable to catch my breath.
“A kelpie. A water demon taking on the appearance of a horse to lure his victims to a watery death. Had you touched him, you would have been stuck fast and unable to escape. You would have drowned, and there would have been nothing I could have done.”
“Oh my God. Do you suppose that’s what happened to those women?”
“In all likelihood. Young women are particularly attracted to the charms of the kelpie. There is a…visceral connection between women and horses anyway, and the kelpie’s powers accentuate that.”
Deadly Rising Page 4