She looks at me sheepishly. “I don’t know. I’ve been getting these… bursts of feeling and energy. It’s actually… it’s starting to scare me a little, but in a good way. It’s been helping us with our work, so I choose to accept it as a gift.”
We stop underneath a lonely oak tree whose branches loom over us in a natural canopy. Mad sits cross-legged at its base and gestures for me to sit across from her. “Close your eyes and open your center,” she says, and I quirk an eyebrow at her. She smiles. “Trust me. Just imagine it happening.” I close my eyes and do my best.
“Stop trying so hard,” she says, and rather than respond, I relax. “That’s it,” she murmurs. “Let your mind quiet. Let it drift. Feel the moonlight on your skin and the earth underneath you.” She takes my hands and presses my palms into the dirt.
Mad begins to chant in a low voice, words of power and wisdom, and I open myself to it. And in my mind’s eye, I see David. His smile as we shared a joke. The love in his eyes when he asked me to marry him. The breeze shifts and the life in his face drains. His eyes close and he is on a mortuary slab. I am kneeling at his grave. My fingers are not dug into the soil in The Boneyard, they are buried in the earth above his grave.
“Gray!” Mad barks, yanking me from my vision. My cheeks are wet with tears and I’m trembling. “What is it? What did you see?”
I wipe my dirty hands on my pants and wipe the tears away with my sleeve. “I saw the reason I’m doing all of this. I saw my purpose.” A coldness in my gut has me turning around, and I find Delaney a few dozen feet away, her blonde hair silver in the moonlight. She chants, and she is crying as well. “The witch you lost to Trivia, she meant a lot to Delaney, didn’t she?”
“Anya meant a lot to all of us,” Mad says. “But she meant everything to Delaney. She was her wife.”
I watch the heartbroken witch commune with her goddess or her ancestors, or whomever it is that she’s drawing strength from, and I vow to myself in that moment that I will not fail her.
“I have to go,” I say. “Your rituals here, they are for you alone. The place where I need to prepare is a little bookshop in Counterfeit City, and my rituals involve blades and poisons. I will meet you back here in twenty-four hours.”
***
We drop Luke off at the University. He exits the hearse and begins to walk away before turning on his heels, striding back, and gesturing for me to roll down the window. I do, and leaning on the edge of the door he says, “Don’t underestimate Trivia. I’ve heard about what happened with Lilah, and I’m certain she was no walk in the park, but Trivia…” he runs a hand along his scruffy jaw, “she is ancient evil, and very, very dangerous. Don’t be a hero. If you can’t follow through, then run.”
“If you know so much about her, then why don’t you come?” Runner asks.
After a long moment, Luke says, “I don’t think they want me there.”
“You don’t think Mad wants you there,” I correct.
His silence is all the answer I need. He simply backs away and says, “Don’t get them killed. Please.”
Runner pulls away, and we’re half a block from Nico’s before he speaks again which is the longest I think he’s ever been silent. “Do you really think we can do this?” he asks.
“I don’t have a choice,” I answer. He nods and pulls to a stop in front of the bookshop. “But you do,” I continue. “You were hired by Mina for one job, and you saved my ass, Runner. Multiple times. But you don’t have to stay or continue on. If you just want to drop me off and pick up your next fare…”
“Do you think that little of me?” he asks, his silver eyes wide. “You needed my help. So I helped. And you took down someone that made life a living hell for more than a few Counterfeiters. You might work for the Devil, but you’re one of the good ones as far as I’m concerned. Yeah, I could get a new cab and take another fare, and I could continue on doing that forever. For what? Driving you… I feel like it matters.”
As he’s spoken, warmth has filled my chest, and deep gratitude threatens to overwhelm me. Then he ruins the moment by saying, “Besides, you said it yourself: I saved your ass. You need me, rookie.”
“Get out of the car, Phantom,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“There’s that sass,” he says, and I shut the door on his cackling laughter.
***
Nico shoos the last customer out of his store, flips the CLOSED sign, and spins to us with delight on his face. “I nearly dropped a vial of poison when I heard the news,” he says, clapping his gnarled hands together in glee. “You got her! Lilah!”
“Thanks to a lot of help from you and the arsenal you’ve got locked up back there,” I say, hitching a thumb behind me toward the secret room that Nico revealed to me on my first mission for Lucifer. “And I’m going to need your help again, I’m afraid.”
His smile falters a bit at that, but I can tell that he’s not surprised. “Yeah,” Runner chimes in, “the Devil didn’t keep his promise. Go figure.”
Nico nods and waves for us to follow him. “How’ve you been, Runner?”
“Dodging bullets and killing demons. You know me.”
Nico chuckles. “Indeed.” He leads us through the piles of books that are stacked on and stuffed into every available surface and into his workroom, where he stops at the fuse box on the back wall. Swinging the cover open and flipping a few switches, he says, “So what insanity does Lucifer have you doing now?”
“Stealing the Dead Hex from Trivia,” I say, and watch as his jaw drops in concert with the bookshelf next to him sliding open to reveal his hidden apothecary and weapons room.
Nico recovers himself quickly but remains pensive. “You’re not going alone…?”
“Nope!” Runner says. “We’ve got witches. Lots of witches. Daughters of the Dead, in fact.”
“Their last meeting did not go well. But the Daughters are strong and very, very good at what they do.” He nods as if satisfied and ushers us back. The room is still as awe-inducing as the first time I saw it, with it’s hanging weaponry and rows of glass cabinets filled with daggers and swords. The long table in the center of the room is strewn with beakers and vials and bubbling concoctions, and colored smoke drifts into the air. “You still have your diamond dagger?” he asks me.
“That, and the one Lilah gave me,” I say, patting the zippered pockets at my thighs.
“They won’t do you much good against magic,” he warns. “But you will need what I’m about to prepare for you if you have any hope of succeeding.”
He moves back to the apothecary tables and begins pulling out paper packets and glass jars, setting them on the table in front of us in quick succession. Grabbing a mortar and pestle, he dumps their contents into the bowl and begins grinding the mixture to a fine powder.
“What’s it for?” Runner asks. “Do we feed it to her? Inject her?”
“You feed it to her ghost dogs,” Nico answers.
“Ghost dogs,” Runner parrots.
“You say that like it’s not possible, Phantom,” Nico counters. “Two ghost dogs, to be exact. They are the manifestations of restless souls that accompany her wherever she goes. Be aware of all canines once you enter her space. The barking of dogs heralds her approach.”
He pours the mixture into a beaker and adds a clear liquid that begins to bubble and smoke. Stirring vigorously, he adds, “This will incapacitate them, at least for a short time.” The bubbling subsides, and he pours the doggie tranquilizer into two vials, handing one to each of us. “You’ll have to rely on the witches for most of this mission, I’m afraid. This is the best I can do.”
As we both tuck the vials away, Nico says, “And you, Runner, take special care.”
Runner immediately tenses. “Why me?”
“You are dead.”
“So is she!” he says, pointing at me.
“Yes and no,” Nico responds. “She is a demon. You are a Phantom. You are dead dead. And Trivia is the Queen of Ghosts. She may have a
special pull over you, and you need to be prepared.”
“Excellent,” Runner huffs.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I say to Runner. “If anything goes sideways, it’s my turn to help you.”
He nods, but he swallows hard, and I hope to hell I can keep my promise.
10
ANYA
There was no magically witchy way to get us to Salem with the snap of a finger or the blink of an eye. We didn’t even fly, by broom or by plane. Four witches, one Phantom, and one demon all piled into the hearse, which now lies abandoned in a thick copse of trees off the side of the road on the outskirts of Salem. Hidden by the shadows and a shower of leaves in a riot of orange, red, and yellow hues, only a bit of its shiny chrome bumper is visible in the dim twilight.
“You sure nobody will find it there?” Runner asks.
“The only way somebody sees that hearse is if they’re looking for it,” I say, squinting to get a glimpse of it myself.
“This way,” Bex says, waving all of us deeper into the woods. “First, we go to the graveyard.”
“Another graveyard?” I ask Mad, who does her best not to trip over fallen branches and knotted roots as we make our way down a dirt path.
She nods, never taking her eyes off of the ground. “We’re necromancers. Hanging out in places with dead people is a lot of what we do. Again, we’re communing with those who came before, paying them respect and asking for blessings.”
“How did you find the Daughters of the Dead?” I ask. “What happened after the asylum? How did you escape?”
“Winter dragged me out. Dragged both of us out, actually,” Mad says. “Me and Ruby. She didn’t need to breathe, being a Feeder and all, so the smoke from the fire didn’t overwhelm her. She got me out onto the lawn, and by the time she reappeared with Ruby, the paramedics were there taking care of me. I’m a witch, but I’m not, like, genetically different than a human, so going to a hospital wouldn’t raise any red flags for me. With them…” she shrugs, “I saw Winter carry Ruby off. It’s not like they could just go to the doctor, you know?”
“Where are they now?”
“I don’t know,” Mad admits. “I thought about trying to find them, but getting together again seemed like it might raise a red flag for The Enemy. If they found us all once, who’s to say they couldn’t do it again?”
“The Enemy…”
“Is too much to get into right now. But I’m not going anywhere,” she says, glancing up at me with a smile. “I’ll tell you everything once we get out of here, I promise.”
I nod, and to know that I have someone on my side comforts me in a way I hadn’t realized I’d needed. “The Daughters…”
“Found me. Word of the fire spread fast, and word that The Enemy had been working at the asylum in secret spread even faster, thanks, I think, to your old boss.”
“Well, she is the one who discovered their dirty little secret, so that would make sense,” I say.
“Kara broke me out of the hospital,” Mad continues. “The Daughters thought it would only be a matter of time before The Enemy came for me again, so she got me out before they had the chance. I’ve been with them ever since.”
We come to a small clearing with a smattering of old, weathered gravestones scattered in the grass. Some have toppled, others have worn down so that the engravings are barely visible, and all of them are covered in moss and mold. We follow Bex to the center of the cemetery and she gestures for us to form a circle and join hands.
“Close your eyes and ground yourselves. Feel the night around you. Feel the presence of our ancestors with us. Quiet your mind. Open your heart. And listen,” Bex says, her voice soft and lilting. We bow our heads, and she begins to murmur words of thanks to those that came before.
Runner squeezes my hand hard enough to cause pain. “Gray…” he whispers, and I shush him and try to focus. “Guys,” he says a bit more loudly, and I squeeze his hand back and will him to shut the hell up.
“Guys! Daughters! Witches!” he yells, and I open my eyes to find the air in the center of the circle shimmering like heat above asphalt on a summer day. “What’s happening?” he asks.
“Many times, we ask for blessings and we accept them on faith, without any sort of contact. Tonight, we are lucky enough to be visited,” Bex says. “Appear,” she coaxes, and we wait for the apparition to coalesce.
The wind kicks up and slowly, so slowly, the mist and smoke before us solidifies into a human shape. Delaney falls to her knees. “Anya!” she cries, and on either side of her, Kara and Mad make sure to hold her fast, keeping the circle intact.
“My Delaney,” the ghost says. “I’ve missed you.” Her voice is hollow, seeming to echo in a chamber that doesn’t exist on this plane, and her brow is furrowed with worry.
“Let me go to her,” Delaney pleads, but the other witches redouble their efforts to keep her still.
“Stop, Delaney,” Kara barks. “You know what happens if we break the circle.”
Delaney stops struggling, but she shakes like the leaves on the trees as silent tears stream down her face. “Are you okay, Anya?”
It seems like a strange question to ask someone who’s died, but Runner is a Phantom and I’ve certainly seen him experience pain. Maybe Anya does as well.
“I wish I could say yes,” Anya says, her form flickering for a brief moment before solidifying again, “and I can only stay for a moment.”
“What are you doing here?” Bex asks, astonished.
“Anya is buried in The Boneyard,” Mad whispers to me, her eyes shimmering with tears. “She has not appeared to us since her death.”
“I heard you call, and felt you all so near to this dangerous place, I had to see…” Anya locks eyes with each of the Daughters, and as they look back at their fallen friend I can see tears shimmering in their eyes.
“Why have you come here?” Anya asks. “It’s not safe for you.”
“To kill Trivia,” Kara growls.
Anya shakes her head, and the ends of her hair float and swirl around her face. “That’s not possible. She’s even stronger than she was when we faced her together.”
“We have help,” Bex says, nodding to me and Runner.
Anya slowly turns to face us, and the outline of her image blurs as she frowns at us in anger. “Was this your doing? Your idea? You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have brought my sisters back.”
“It’s my fault they’re here, but I didn’t force them to join me,” I say. “And I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice. I lost my David like Delaney lost you. And if I complete my mission here, I…” I can see Runner shaking his head at me out of the corner of my eye, and I don’t care. “I might be able to get him back. Please help us, if you can, and I’ll do what I can to help Delaney and the rest of the Daughters get revenge.”
Anya watches me for a long moment, and having a ghost give you their undivided attention is one of the most unnerving experiences I think you can have. It’s like she can see through me the same way I can see through her, and I get the distinct feeling that I’m being judged. “Revenge doesn’t erase the past.”
“You’re right, but it sure as hell feels good for a few seconds.” When I’d killed Kira, the assassin that Lilah had ordered to murder me and David, I’d reveled in her death, even if it had done nothing to close the empty space in my chest left by David’s absence. “I’m not trying to erase the past. I’m trying to help the Daughters move forward.”
“You truly believe you can bring Trivia down?” she asks me.
“With their help? Yes,” I say, and I mean it.
And then Anya surprises me. The strong facade she’d displayed cracks, and she wails in agony, her form flickering more intensely, so much so that she almost winks out of existence.
Delaney tries to dart forward, and again the Daughters hold her back.
Anya recovers herself, solidifying once again, but it’s clear that it’s taking all of her effort to st
ay here. “Trivia is draining us,” she says weakly.
“Us?” Kara says.
“The witches she’s murdered,” Anya says. “I’m not the only one. It’s been going on for hundreds of years. She holds our spirits fast and drains us, bit by bit, to feed her power. Soon, there will be nothing left of me.”
“That’s blasphemy,” Bex breathes. “We respect the dead. Revere them…”
“Trivia lost her way a long time ago. The Queen of Ghosts has become their tormentor,” Anya says.
“How can we stop her, Anya?” Delaney pleads. “Have you learned anything since you…” It’s too terrible for her to say, so she lets the thought hang. Since you died. Since you were taken.
Anya flickers, not fully solidifying again, and her voice is strained as she says, “If you want any chance of succeeding, you must douse the torches that blaze in her chamber.”
“Don’t go…” Delaney yelps. “Please, Anya!”
But she fades, the smoke dissipating and swirling away on the wind. Before she is gone completely, I swear I hear her say, “My Delaney…”
The breeze stills and the rustling of the leaves falls silent. We break the circle and Delaney curls into a ball, sobs wracking her small body. Bex and Mad stoop to comfort her, helping her up from the cold ground. Runner crouches down, running his shaking hand through his hair and doing his best to hold himself together.
Kara strides over to me. She’s clearly shaken after seeing her dead friend, and she jabs a finger at me and says, “You’d better not fail us, demon. Not after that. Not after…” She can’t get the words past the lump in her throat, and I hold up a hand to stop her.
“I won’t fail.” I look past her to Delaney. To her credit, she is back on her feet and wiping the tears from her eyes. When she turns and catches my eye, I don’t see sadness in her anymore. I see anger, and I see resolve. She nods at me, and I nod back.
HELLION: THE DEAD HEX: (Hellion, Book 2) Page 6