No.
I gritted my teeth, pushed the pain aside, and focused hard. My magic ignited, and Isabel gasped. I was still holding onto her hand, but I couldn’t stop the Hemlock power flowing from me, pushing against the room’s boundaries, stopping the destructive magic threatening to tear the place apart.
Creaking sounded from all around me as the hotel shook to its foundations.
“Get out!” I yelled at the others. “Isabel—let me go, I’ll be fine. Get Keir out of here!”
“I’m right here!” said Keir’s voice from beside my ear. “Jas, hang on!”
I screamed as he lifted me, fresh pain piercing my chest, and death rose to meet me.
Nine lives, Jas.
You have nine lives.
I’d better. Being stabbed to death by a ghost wasn’t how I’d have chosen to go.
I blinked, once. A familiar row of hand-stitched puppets faced me. My head pounded. Definitely alive.
Keir stood with his back to the wall. He was white as a sheet and covered in what looked like plaster dust.
“Keir,” I croaked. “Wow, that hurts. That ghost officially wins the prize for the most violent spirit I’ve ever met, including the poltergeist who threw me into a river.”
“You nearly died twice over,” he said quietly. “I had to bring you here—the entire front of the hotel collapsed, and your spell only stabilised it for a few minutes.”
“Shit.” I closed my eyes, a tremor shaking my limbs. “Did everyone get out?”
“Thanks to you,” he said. “The place was half empty anyway.”
“Isabel?”
“She’s helping with the clean-up.”
Relief swept through me and I opened my eyes again. “Does she know what broke my wards?”
“Never mind your wards,” Keir said. “You nearly lost your life. Those ghosts were too strong to be mere spirits.”
“I bloody hope the guild knows, then.” I twisted around, trying to reach my back. “It’s healed?”
“Isabel used a healing spell on you just in time. It didn’t cross my mind that your injuries might follow you from the spirit realm to the real world.”
“It’s not supposed to be possible.” I rested my head back on the pillow. My insides felt hollow. My Hemlock magic failed. My wards had gone out. Had the ghosts somehow done that, too? “Who—who were the shifters? They weren’t the same ghosts as last time.”
“There was a fight this morning,” he said. “A brutal one, on shifter territory.”
I sat upright, gripping the edges of the bed as my head swam. “Where are the bodies? I bet they’re wearing those wristbands. Those stones—it’s got to be the stones causing it all.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
“I think your boss is trying to get hold of you,” said Keir.
I groaned and flopped back against the pillow. “I don’t have time to get stuck on archive duty again. I have to figure out what’s powering those ghosts. Did anyone banish them?”
His mouth pressed together. “I can answer your phone and tell her you’re still unconscious. Stall for time.”
“Go for it.” I dug in my pocket and tossed him my phone. “Ask if she’s sending any of her people in.”
“That place is way too unstable for anyone to go inside.” He tapped my phone screen. “Hey, it’s Keir. Jas was injured in the hotel’s collapse. She’s fine, but unconscious, and I’m taking care of her until she wakes up. I take it she’s excused from the doghouse for a bit?”
I gave him a warning look, which he ignored.
“Yes… you heard. Good.” He moved away from the bed, lowering his voice. “Yes, she’s fine. I know there’s a procedure—”
From the way he cut off, Lady Montgomery was speaking too quickly or loudly for him to interrupt. I smiled for a moment, then pushed the covers off me, activating a cleansing spell on my torn and bloody clothes.
He ended the call and dropped my phone back on the bed. “She cares about you.”
“She values her employees.” I climbed to my feet. “And now I’m going to make a miraculous recovery and go and poke around at the hotel. Whoever managed to undo my Hemlock magic wards is not the sort of witch I want an unwitting necromancer patrol to run into.”
“No kidding.” His mouth turned down at the corners. “Nor is whatever let those shifters gain physical form in Death.”
“Might it be a side effect of that stone?” I said. “You can’t make a witch spell that turns the dead solid, that much I know. That stone is the only unknown element. And it can override a shifter’s will in a way that shouldn’t be possible outside of the full moon. I can’t think of anything else that might have done it.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.” He dug a hand in the pocket of the new coat I’d got him, and pulled out the fragment of stone. “I do have a few contacts who deal in rare artefacts—”
“Nope,” I said. “A fury tore a hole in your wall only a couple of months ago. I’m not waking up to find ghostly shifters have attacked you in the night.”
A grin quirked his lips. “You really care.”
I gave him a thwack in the chest. “You just worked that out? Moron.”
He caught my arm before I could pull it back, yanking me against him. “You know, I could insist you stay on bed rest right here rather than risking your neck again.”
His vampire’s touch caressed me, slipping down my spine. “Keir.” The word was more of a moan as his lips captured mine.
“Yes? Didn’t quite catch that.” His touch deepened, and though I knew he was feeding on my soul, it felt more like he was giving something back to me. Shivers danced to my fingertips, and my nails dug into his shoulders.
I knew I was probably pushing it too far, considering my fragile state, but I didn’t want to let go. He groaned against my mouth as I pressed against him, body to body, spirit to spirit. Part of me wanted to strip off my clothes, the other part was conscious that when our spirits touched, it was as intimate as skin against skin. More like soul against soul. And it felt so good.
“Keir!” I moaned. In the real world, his hand slipped between my legs, but his vampire’s touch was all over me, head to toe, drawing, giving, pressure building until I hardly knew whether I was in the spirit realm or the real one. Both were reduced to nothing but the pleasure of his touch, vampire and human.
And then his hand was between my legs again, his fingers moving delicately. Riding the aftermath of his vampire’s touch pushed me right over the edge. I gasped aloud, shudders racking my body from head to toe.
He kissed me once again, lighter this time, and I held onto his shoulders for balance.
“Need to sit down?” He sounded amused.
“You’re forgetting I just got stabbed to death.” My voice was shaky, but this time in a good way. None of those ancient tomes on vampire magic had mentioned they were capable of giving someone an orgasm through the spirit realm. “The textbooks didn’t mention that one.”
“You’re quite receptive in the spirit realm,” he murmured into my ear. “I’d have thought you might have tried—”
“No, I’ve never had sex with a ghost,” I said. “Don’t spoil it by bragging about your conquests, please.”
“I always thought guild necromancers had no imagination.” He grinned, and I gave him another thwack. His hand closed around my wrist. “We could do this all day.”
“Most ghosts want to whine at us, not screw us.” I released a breath, the real world pushing its way back in. “And as nice as that sounds, there’s a bunch of angry shifter ghosts on the loose who’re capable of stabbing the living. I need to find my friends.”
Keir shook his head. “If you go to the mages, they’ll know you’re not unconscious.”
“And they’ll tell tales on me to the guild, I know,” I said. “I’ll call Isabel, then.”
I rang her, and Isabel picked up the phone instantly. “Jas,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“Better th
an I was before. Keir and I are on the way back to the hotel.”
“Don’t go to the hotel,” she said. “There are mages everywhere. They’re taking the place apart trying to figure out how the wards came undone, and… there’s a chance they might figure out how there came to be such strong wards on the place to begin with.”
My heart plunged. “Oh. Damn.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’re not gonna be the first person to come to mind considering you’re not actually staying there at the moment, but I figured I’d warn you. Want to meet at the market?”
“I’ll be there with Keir. You sure you don’t know how they broke the wards? Was it the shifter ghosts, or someone else?”
“I thought ghosts couldn’t break wards.”
“I thought they couldn’t stab people either,” I said quietly. “This is different.”
Whatever magic is driving them is stronger than my Hemlock magic. There’s no other explanation.
I really needed to figure out how to destroy those stones.
14
Isabel met us at the market. Plaster dust still covered her arms and face, and her eyes widened at the sight of me. “Jas. I’m glad you’re in one piece.”
“Same here, believe me.” I dug in my pocket and pulled out my notepad. “I don’t know if this helps, but this is the face of one of our enemies. He’s the witch who put the spell on Keir’s friend. If we can find him, we might be able to find out where they’re getting those damned stones.”
Isabel examined the sketch. “He doesn’t look familiar to me. I wish I’d put on a disguise spell to come here, but they won’t let me back into my hotel room to fetch the rest of my stuff.”
“Shit, I forgot.” I’d left half my ingredients in her room, too, but I was just glad my friends had made it out. “Well, considering the shifter ghosts have seen me through the spirit realm no fewer than three times now, it’s safe to say the enemy knows I’m onto them.”
Nobody had any answer for that, so I marched over to the nearest stall, the one with the beautifying spells.
“Hey, there,” I said to the young woman staffing the stall, yanking out the notepad from my pocket. “Have you seen a witch who looks like this? He’s wanted in connection with official necromancer guild business.”
I wasn’t even in uniform, but I put on my best ‘official’ voice. The dark-haired witch blinked at my spiel, her mouth dropping open. “That guy? What’s his hair colour?”
“Ginger.”
“Sure, I saw him,” she said, pointing down the cobbled street. “Ten minutes ago, maybe.”
I didn’t particularly want to ambush an innocent person if it turned out the guy was wearing a mask, but it couldn’t be helped. I made my way back to others, thoroughly regretting the whole operation. “Apparently he was here ten minutes ago. If it’s true, there’s probably a catch.”
“Maybe we should have asked Asher,” Isabel said.
Might be tricky if he’s pulled a vanishing act. “I’ll look, but I’m not expecting to get lucky.”
I took the lead anyway, weaving between the stalls. The market was less crowded than usual. Maybe word had made it over about the collapsing hotel. Or the mages had scared everyone off, if they’d already started interrogating coven leaders. Twice, I followed someone out of the market only to realise the face was wrong, or the hair.
As I entered the market for the third time, Keir grabbed my arm and pointed urgently over my shoulder. I looked past a group of student-aged witches gathered beside a stall selling bottled potions, and saw a familiar ginger head pop behind the crowd.
There was our guy, all right.
I twisted a shadow spell on my wrist and approached, using the group of students to provide cover. My footsteps trod carefully, slowly, my spine prickling when the man turned on the spot. Like before, there was something about the way the man walked that wasn’t—right.
Hang on a moment. He’s…
I tapped into the spirit realm, looked past the bright blur of the students’ spirits—and saw nothing but grey.
Crap. He was a walking corpse. A vessel. But he looked alive in the waking world, and I didn’t see the tell-tale blue glow of a vampire’s presence or even a necromancer.
Keir stepped out in front of him. “Hey, mate,” he said. “You shouldn’t be walking around here.”
So he’d seen his lack of a soul, too.
“You shouldn’t, either, vampire,” said the man.
Keir smiled. “Well, now.”
A loud bang went off and the students scattered with shouts of alarm. A nearby stall toppled, jars smashing on the floor, and the dead man moved so I could see his arms were loaded with spells.
Keir swept his legs out from underneath him in one smooth movement. The dead man toppled, and I grabbed his arm, wrenching it behind his back before he could activate another spell.
“Help me get those spells off him!” I gasped to Keir—I didn’t want to find out the hard way whether or not my Hemlock magic could counter a dozen spells at once.
A blast hit the dead man full in the face, and he collapsed, his arm going limp in mine. Smoke exploded across my vision, forming a screen in front of us. A smokescreen spell… and not mine.
I peered into the smoke, looking for the newcomer. It was Asher.
“Get him out of here!” he rasped. “That smokescreen spell won’t hold for long. Bring him to my shop.”
“I thought your shop was closed,” I said, completely bewildered. I thought he disappeared. I’d also thought he was half-dead, but maybe Evelyn’s magic had worked after all.
“Argue later,” Keir said, hauling the zombie’s body over his shoulders. “Huh—that wasn’t there last time we were here.”
I looked over his shoulder, spotting the cobbled alley between the shops. It’d reappeared, not at all like it’d been boarded and bricked up yesterday. Asher must have used an illusion charm—a really good one. Smart thinking.
Asher collapsed into a seat the instant we entered his shop, while Keir deposited the body on the front desk. The ginger-haired man looked entirely too lifelike for a walking corpse. Not a vampire, either. He had no soul or heartbeat, and his skin was cold to touch.
Asher leaned over the body and coughed into his hand. “Bastard.”
“Are you okay?” asked Isabel.
“Better than him.” He jerked his head at the dead man, then his gaze zeroed in on me. “Your healing spell saved my neck. That’s the only reason I’m not kicking you out of here. That clear?”
He hadn’t seen Evelyn. Thank god for that. “You were dying.”
“Yes, I was dying,” he said. “I’m always close to death. It’s why I have this.” He took a swig from a bottle on the desk. It was tinted green, preventing me from seeing what was inside it. “You didn’t need to help me. But you did.”
“Yeah…” Damn, maybe he really didn’t remember Evelyn taking control and blasting him with Hemlock magic. “I came here looking for you yesterday, but your shop was totally shut down.”
“Of course it was,” he growled. “I’m taking no chances, not with monstrosities like this bastard walking around. What were you thinking, taking him on in public?”
“I didn’t know he was dead,” I protested. “He attacked a bunch of people, besides. Who in hell is he?”
“A proxy.” He lifted the dead man’s arm, which had flopped off the desk. “I’m no necromancer, but this isn’t your typical undead.”
He pulled the man’s collar down, revealing a symbol was carved onto his upper back. The symbol wasn’t familiar to me, but it looked like the ones used in rituals. In necromancy gone bad, and summonings from other realms.
Was he resurrected using dark magic?
Isabel made a faint noise. She looked like she was about to be sick. “What is that?”
Asher looked up at her. “Not something I wanted to see again.”
“Oh?” I said, not daring to say aloud what was in my mi
nd. Blood magic. How could it have been used on a person?
He drew in a ragged breath. “These symbols contain power… and can be used to raise the dead under the control of the person who summons them.”
Nobody spoke. My head swam with a sense of unreality, like I’d been stabbed all over again. It can’t be that. The guild would know. There’s no way…
The symbol had been cut directly into his skin. I hadn’t known it was possible to do blood magic using a living person before. Or a dead one either, except in the sacrificial sense.
I looked up into Asher’s eyes. They were hazel, flecked with silver-grey, and much clearer than before I’d healed him. “Asher… you’ve seen this before. Was it—the same coven? The ones the League forced to help them?”
“It was their trademark,” he said. “When you saw those symbols on a body, it was one of theirs. That’s how they wiped out my coven.”
“Witches did that?” Surely even the Hemlocks wouldn’t have occasion to use blood magic to resurrect the dead…
My hands twitched, fighting the impulse to check for marks on my own body. Really. I’d know if I had a blood magic symbol on my skin.
“It’s another Orion League trick,” said Asher. “But they usually did it on the living.”
“On the living?” Isabel recoiled. “How? What does the symbol mean?”
“That symbol means control,” Asher said. “Control over the living or the dead.”
“Almost like necromancy,” I said. “But… not guild necromancy. That’s got to be illegal.”
“Of course it’s illegal,” said Asher. “They did it to all their elite soldiers—tattooed them with marks of the same nature, to make them stronger and faster than regular humans.”
“That’s… possible?” Isabel shook her head, a dazed look in her eyes. “It’s not… it can’t be like coven leader magic.”
“Where do you think they got the idea?”
Oh. Those symbols that appeared on her skin when her life was in danger—the League must have tried to create their own version. And succeeded.
Witch's Spirit (The Hemlock Chronicles Book 3) Page 14