Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  I started to follow her, but then an idea hit me. I stopped and looked back at the hole in the wall. What if I …

  Jane moved into my line of vision, waving again for me to follow. When I shook my head, she pointed at the hole and then drew her finger across her neck, pretending to slice it.

  I got the gist of what she was trying to tell me. “The lidérc is coming?”

  She nodded.

  “How much time do I have?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and then held up both hands with her fingers spread wide.

  “Ten minutes?”

  She held her hand out and teetered it back and forth.

  “More or less, got it. Good, that should give me enough time to prep.” I tapped on my phone, pulling up the picture of the ward from the Sugarloaf Building again.

  After one last look at the hole in the wall, I ran toward the door where the sharp-toothed creature had waited for me in the shadows. It was unlocked. I opened it, my heart pounding, and turned on the light. Fluorescent bulbs flickered to life. The room was filled with racks of boxes—old files from the looks of it, along with several cardboard tubes. There was no other door or window. There was no sharp-toothed fiend whispering my name either.

  “This will work,” I said, propping the door open with one of the cardboard tubes. I set the steel bar on a shelf near the door and my phone next to it, leaving the picture of the ward still showing on the screen.

  Jane appeared next to me, her hands raised, questioning.

  “I’m going to try to trap it in here using blood wards like those at the Sugarloaf Building until Doc comes with the mirror.”

  If he comes, a doubt-filled voice whispered in my head. I stuffed a sock in its big mouth and returned to sharing my plan with a ghost, which added even more qualms about what I was about to do.

  “If I manage to lure the devil in here,” I said, carefully rolling my torn sleeve up over my knife injury, “you need to close the door with it on the inside.”

  She nodded.

  Before I could chicken out, I pulled apart the skin around the wound. Blood welled up from the cut. I winced at the renewed stinging pain that shot up my arm. “Here’s the tricky part,” I said, and rubbed my fingers in the blood, smearing it over my skin. “I think it’s going to need to be attached to me in order to get it past this first ward and into the room.”

  Jane frowned, shaking her head vehemently.

  “There’s no other way, Jane. Once I have it stuck in here with me—or rather inside of me—you need to find Doc as fast as you can, unlock the doors leading down here, and show him where I am. He and Cooper should be coming to the courthouse soon.” At least I hoped that was the case.

  After checking the picture of the ward on my phone again, I frowned at the blood on my fingers. This might not even work, but I had to try.

  “Okay. Let’s do this.” I started to recreate the ward on the wall next to the door exactly as it looked in the Sugarloaf Building—the eye, the triangles, the rectangle, the whole deal. It took several presses and pulls on my wound to get enough blood, but when it was done it seemed almost the same, just a little sloppier.

  I looked at the other three walls in the room, wondering if I needed to do the same on them. Could the lidérc pass through concrete and dirt to escape?

  I glanced over my shoulder at Jane. She was fading in and out now. “How much time left?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and then held up one hand with all five fingers spread.

  Shit, I had to try to get the other walls warded, too, just in case. This was my opportunity to lock this son of a bitch up before it came for my kids and me at Aunt Zoe’s.

  Several minutes and squeezes on my knife cut later, the other walls had smaller but similar wards on them. I frowned at the ceiling. There was no way I could reach it to draw a ward up there. The walls would have to do. I wiped my bloody fingers off on my pants.

  “I hope this works,” I said to Jane, who was by my side.

  She disappeared suddenly, and then she reappeared and started waving at me agitatedly. Her eyes were wide, her forehead lined.

  “Is it here?” I mouthed, not sure my voice would have worked anyway since my heart had leapt into my throat and was clinging to my uvula.

  She nodded and pointed toward the hallway.

  I tiptoed over, grabbed my phone, and peeked out the door. A familiar shadow hovered in the middle of the hallway, sparks showering to the floor around it.

  Good, it had left Cornelius back at Calamity Jane’s and come alone. Now it was time to see if my trap was going to work or not.

  I pocketed my phone and stepped into the open doorway. The lidérc was drifting away from me, heading for the stairwell. “Hey, asshole,” I called.

  It whirled toward me, a turbulent storm of shadow and smoke and dripping embers.

  “You miss me?” I took a step, passing the blood ward as I crossed over the threshold.

  It began to billow in my direction, like it had done before in the Sugarloaf Building, only that time I had a war hammer to swing at it. Now I stood before it empty-handed. The bar for the iron grate still sat on the shelf next to the door because I needed the lidérc to win this time … at least for a little while.

  As the devil came at me, its invisible hoof-like feet clomping across the wooden walkway, chills trickled down my spine. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to do something besides just stand still like a sacrificial goat.

  It stopped inches from my face, smoke and shadows undulating in front of me. Nausea spread through me, followed by a rush of terror that tightened my chest.

  For a moment I saw a flash of Rex’s face, then Cornelius’s, and then Jane’s. Then, deep in the blackness, I saw a silver swirling light.

  “You have nowhere to run, Scharfrichter,” it hissed from the churning smoke. A waft of putrid air blew over my face.

  I swallowed a gag and lifted my chin, determined not to let it see any signs of the fear that filled me. “I’m done running.” My voice sounded firm, not a tremor to be heard. “I think I can defeat you in here.” I tapped on my temple.

  It let out a low, wheezing laugh. “Then you are a fool.”

  Probably so, but I shrugged. “Methinks you are a bit too cocky.” I scowled at the smoky, shapeless bastard. “Now, are we going to do this dance or not?”

  “You will die.”

  “We’re all dying. It’s only a matter of when and how. I’m willing to gamble with my life today. Are you?”

  It pulled back slightly, as if uncertain.

  Oh no you don’t. I opened my arms wide. “Let’s hug it out, you ugly, Hungarian son of a bitch.”

  That was all the nudging it took. The lidérc billowed toward me, engulfing me in a shroud of blackness.

  I closed my eyes, waiting, unsure what to expect. Would there be an intense burning sensation all over my skin? Severe cramping in my muscles? Or stinging needles throughout every part of my body?

  A clammy cold settled inside of me, filling me from head to toe. My limbs grew leaden, too weighty to move. My head lolled forward, my neck struggling to support what now felt like a giant watermelon. My lungs were filling up with freezing cold air, making it hard to breathe.

  Was this what Cornelius had experienced? Or worse? How had he forced the lidérc into that room of horrors in his head? If I lived through this, maybe he would show me how to build a secret room of my own. Somewhere I could cram the demons and monsters that haunted my nightmares.

  I needed to return to the room, but I had to make sure the lidérc was fully inside of me first.

  “Jane,” I croaked, straining to lift my head so I could look at her. “Come here.”

  She appeared before me, her forehead grooved. She looked so sad, like I was on my deathbed. Hmm, I guess I was if my plan failed. She reached out to me with wispy arms that were flickering in and out.

  “No, stay back.” I tried to open my lids wide, but they were so heavy. “A
re my eyes pitch black?” I tried again.

  She leaned closer and then jerked back, nodding.

  “All right. Here we go.” I stepped back over the threshold and into the room, cringing as I passed the ward. Nothing happened, good or bad. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  Every joint in my body ached now, even my toes. I shuffled backward several more steps, moving the two concrete blocks that were my feet.

  “You know what to do,” I whispered to her. Cornelius was right about the lidérc being an energy drain. I wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor and close my eyes. Maybe if I wasn’t fighting it … “Tell Doc to hurry.”

  She nodded and blew me a kiss. Then she slammed the door shut, sealing me alone in the room.

  Only I wasn’t really alone anymore.

  I dragged myself over to an old office chair that was missing a chunk of the foam seat cushion and plopped down into it.

  Staring at my hands, I waited for whatever was going to come next—more cold or more heat? Or maybe my skin would break out in hives or boils or worse? What was worse than boils? Actually, I hoped not to find out.

  I leaned forward and held my head in my hands to take some strain off of my neck.

  Where was Doc? The clock was ticking now. I had twenty-four hours to live if I didn’t get this sucker out of me. Maybe less. I crossed my fingers that I hadn’t just signed my own death certificate with this plan.

  I pulled out my cell phone, fumbling with my sluggish fingers, almost dropping it, smearing blood on the case. There was no cell service down here in this tomb. I was cut off from the rest of the world.

  I decided to check if my eyes were still black by taking a picture of myself using the flash. One look confirmed it—they were like two black holes, no flash reflection to be seen in either of them.

  I stared at my picture. “Look at that,” I said aloud and snorted. “I took a selfie with a lidérc.” Aunt Zoe could add this to our family history book.

  Stuffing my phone back in my pocket, I stared at the ward next to the door. The blood was fading slightly as it dried. Would it stain? How long until someone came in here and found it? How long until anyone found me?

  The clamminess was sinking deeper now. I could feel the cold ache in my bones, which surprised me. I guess I’d figured a hot mess like me would burn up if the lidérc attached to me, like my ancestor who had burned from the inside out.

  I shifted, my skin feeling too tight in spots, starting to itch. Maybe I would go out like the other Scharfrichter I’d learned about from Aunt Zoe—the one who’d torn her skin off. I shuddered, praying it didn’t come to that.

  Scratching absently, I tried not to think about my kids, not wanting to give the lidérc that kernel of knowledge about my life or any kind of hold over my emotions, but it didn’t work. Their sweet smiles filled my thoughts, bringing tears to my eyes. I should be home now, enjoying another meal with them and helping them get ready for school tomorrow, not sitting here in the basement of the courthouse on a broken old chair waiting for death to come knocking.

  I sat up, my head not so heavy anymore. Neither were my arms. I held them out and made little circles in the air, like we used to do in gym class when I was a kid. Interesting. I lifted one foot and then the other. They had lightened up, too.

  My lower back itched, though. Maybe I was going to tear my skin off after all. Gee, what a pleasant thought. What was up next on the Nightmare Hour? Getting my arm chewed off by a Nachzehrer?

  I shifted in the chair.

  A better idea would be to focus on what Harvey might have made for supper tonight if this Hungarian bastard hadn’t come calling. A bacon casserole of some sort would have been heaven. A queasy shift in my stomach disagreed. Damned lidérc. It was going to ruin my love for bacon before I died.

  I scratched the back of my neck, feeling a small bump there. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Was it starting? I pulled my fingers away quickly and clenched my hands together in my lap. I would not rip off my own face, dammit.

  The cut on my arm prickled. I lifted it to check the wound. “What the hell?” I whispered, frowning at what was now just a welt. I spit on a small, clean bit of my shirt sleeve and wiped over the skin. The scar where it had been was still bright pink, but the wound had sealed up entirely.

  How did that heal so quickly? Did it have something to do with the lidérc being inside of me? As I stared at it, the redness at each end of the wound paled, the skin practically healing before my eyes. Holy shit!

  Did this mean my brain was going tits up already? I lowered my arm and looked away, my breath coming in short bursts, blood whooshing in my ears. I needed to calm down. I had a little time yet before all hell broke loose—I hoped.

  What was going on inside of me? Was the lidérc taking over like some sort of alien? I thought of the movie The Thing, and how the creature had replaced a human cell by cell, replicating them so that others wouldn’t know it was hiding under their skin. Was that happening to me? Was …

  “Violet!” I heard someone call my name over the panic bells clanging in my head. “Open the door!”

  I knew that voice. Jane had come through.

  “Doc?” I rushed over to the door, pressing my hands against the cold steel. “Did you bring the mirror?”

  “Yes. Now open the damned door so I can get that thing out of you.”

  I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t close it. Jane did.”

  I heard mumbling coming from the other side, and then something clicked and the door popped open.

  I took several steps back, wanting to keep my distance in case the lidérc tried to trick me into crossing the ward and letting it escape again.

  The door eased open.

  “Stay back,” I warned as Doc came into view, holding my mace. Cooper was frowning at me over his shoulder. “You can’t cross the threshold. I have it sealed with a blood ward. If you come in here, the lidérc could leave me and use one of you to escape.”

  “Is Sparky okay?” I heard Harvey ask from somewhere behind them.

  Doc’s gaze traveled over me, searching, his eyes pained. “Are you?”

  “For now, but I’m starting to itch and I’m afraid of what that means.” I held out my arm and showed what was now just a pale scar where the knife wound had been. “My amazing wound-healing abilities would give Detective Hawke a whole new reason to think I’m a witch.” I wiggled my fingers in the air. “Eye of newt and testicle of eel, make my skin meld and heal.”

  “Hey, that’s pretty good,” Harvey said, peering around Doc’s side. I saw a glimpse of my family mirror in his hands. “Although I’m not sure about the eel testicle part. We should ask Corny-the-walking-encyclopedia if eels have balls when he’s up and kicking again.”

  “Is Cornelius okay?”

  “He’s better than you at the moment,” Cooper said.

  Harvey squinted at me. “How can you tell it’s attached to her?”

  “Look at her eyes,” Cooper told him.

  Harvey did and flinched. “That would make the hair stand up on a fur coat.”

  I scowled at them. “Yeah, well I’m not feeling super-fantastic on the inside either right now, thank you very much.”

  “We need to get the lidérc out of you as soon as possible, Killer,” Doc said, his eyebrows pulled together.

  I scratched my collarbone a little too hard, drawing blood. “I agree.” I frowned down at the blood on my fingernails and then pressed my shirt against the scratch. “Please tell me you can do that mirror trick you did at Zelda’s.”

  His gaze held mine for several seconds, his face ashen. Or maybe it was just the lights making him look pallid.

  “Damn it, Killer,” he said finally, leaning my mace against the wall. His voice sounded rough. “We’re walking a tightrope here without a net.”

  My eyes watered for a moment at the fear mixed with pain that I saw cros
s his features. “We don’t need no stinkin’ net,” I tried to joke.

  He scrubbed both hands down his face, blowing out through his fingers. “You ready to go into that mirror?”

  I didn’t know, afraid of what would happen if we couldn’t get this devil out of me.

  My ear itched, but I didn’t want to touch it. What if the sucker fell off when I scratched it?

  “Screw it. Let’s do this, Doc.”

  “What’s the plan?” Cooper asked, looking cool and collected, his years of being front and center at crime scenes evident.

  “I’ll go in the room with Violet and the mirror while you—”

  “No!” I held out my hands, playing traffic cop. “If you come in here, Doc, it might latch onto you, and we don’t know what will happen then. Your abilities could amplify its power and allow it to escape the wards.”

  His face paled even more as he frowned at me. “I have to get that out of you. We don’t know how much time you have.”

  “What if I go in there?” Cooper offered. “We know what happens when it gets its hooks into a human—a simple possession, right?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “But what if it uses you as a vehicle to cross the ward like it did Katrina King? It’s safer to keep it in me right now, because it can’t take over my mental game.”

  At least that appeared to be true. I returned to my chair, dropping into it as a wave of exhaustion swept over me.

  Doc crossed his arms. “Listen, Violet. One of us has to come in there with the mirror. Who’s it going to be?”

  “Maybe you can push the mirror toward me and—”

  “Mon dieu!” Harvey said, only his voice sounded higher than usual and more stilted. “Step aside, Constable, and let me through.”

  Constable?

  Before Cooper or Doc could stop him, Harvey pushed his way past them and crossed the threshold with the mirror in hand.

  I gaped at him as he limped over, one leg dragging slightly. “Harvey, what are you doing? Did you just speak French a moment ago?”

  “Of course I spoke French,” he said with an American Northeastern accent I knew too well. “I was raised speaking French, as well as German, English, and several other languages.”