Hot and Haunted

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Hot and Haunted Page 7

by Viola Grace

Hecate looked down and then up with a small grin. “Warm. Now, on to the tea.”

  Abby cleared her throat. “It is none of my business, but why would you date a demon?”

  Hecate broke it down into the basics. “He paid attention to me, was kind to me, and he was warm. It was really that easy. My icy skin didn’t repulse him. It was the first time that had ever happened.”

  Abby nodded. “I get it. Total acceptance.” She looked at Xander. “There is nothing more seductive.”

  Xander blushed and asked for a more complete review of the soup. The personal conversation was over for the day. It was time for idle chit chat and a parting of ways. Hecate had an appointment to keep in another dimension. Her life hadn’t gotten weirder at all.

  Amber and Mr. Worring were nearby. The others were at a safe distance.

  Hecate smiled. “It will be fine. Xander wouldn’t mess with anything. He genuinely thinks that I am an interesting person, and he has already seen a bit of my family history.”

  Mr. Worring asked, “Why do you trust them?”

  “Because I have to. The same way that everyone here trusted me to deliver them safe and conscious and not making their first sight of me their last sight ever.”

  He stiffened and nodded. “Point taken.”

  “Right. The emergency fund is fully charged, and you are ready and equipped for anything. Okay. Here I go.”

  She held the amulet to her lips, and she whispered as she pressed the flat black stone, “I need to know.”

  The world went bright, and everything stretched around her, twisting left and right before it settled, and she was standing at the front desk of a mind-bogglingly large library.

  A woman walked up and smiled. “You must be Hecate. I am Hailey.”

  “Hello.”

  “What do you wish to learn? I have records for every paranormal throughout history, known and unknown.”

  “I want to know where my bloodline started, and I want to know what document my father signed.”

  Hailey blinked. “I will have to find it, but I am sure we have a copy. Come with me, and I will take you to the first documents.”

  “First for my family?”

  “First for the world as we know it. You come from a very old line.”

  The scent coming from the paper and parchments was heady. She walked with her guide through the stacks, and she asked an important question.

  “Abby said you could put me back at the same time that I left?”

  “I can and will.”

  “Thank you. My grandfather is frail, and I met a demon this afternoon, which I am sure is up to no good.”

  “A demon? They are bad news. Was he an actor or a recruiter?”

  “Ah, a recruiter, I think.”

  “Very pretty and persistent as hell, so to speak. I don’t envy you humans for having to deal with them.”

  Hailey led her to the rear corner of the archive where nothing but ancient scrolls lined the shelves. The archivist pulled out an old scroll, and she secured the edges with weights on the angled table. “Would you like me to translate it for you?”

  “Can you? I can’t read whatever language this is in.”

  “The language of birds. It is pre-Babylonian.” The archivist cleared her throat and spoke. “And when man roamed the earth, he prospered, and when brother turned against brother, death was invited into the world. Death became man’s constant companion and walked with him through the world, but as man flourished, Death could only be with him when he parted, and the souls imparted by the creator were occasionally left behind.”

  The scroll was unfurled, and images of ghosts began to be illuminated next to the script of the texts.

  “Death pondered his options, and he drew a woman to him, and they brought forth a child who could see those who were trapped and could release them from the earth to join those who had gone before. This being was the first of the soul releasers.”

  Hailey looked to Hecate, and then, she continued. “The one who released the souls walked the earth and freed those who were trapped. The blood of Death was true in the next generation and each generation after.”

  The scroll was at an end. Hecate exhaled. “Well, that is insane, but thank you.”

  “Oh, we have only just started. This entire shelf was selected for you.” Hailey returned the scroll to the shelf and removed the second out of twenty. “If you want to understand your family and how you are what you are, this is the way to do it. Even in the best of families, faith in inherited burdens wanes with time.”

  Hecate sighed. “Please, translate them all for me.”

  Hailey smiled. “I would love to.”

  Hecate spent the next five hours, reading the history of her family, the trials and tribulations that led her family to actively hunt ghosts and dispatch them. The plagues had done a number on the way that they did business.

  She learned that her family was always healthy and that summoned a lot of hate when everyone around them was dying. For a few generations, the ghost hunters were hunted, and their numbers dwindled. That was the point where the inheritance went from father to eldest. There were no daughters. Daughters were easy targets.

  “Wait. Wait. Wait. The women were hunters as well. When did that stop?”

  Hailey paused. “I don’t know. It isn’t in this scroll. Let me check the archive.”

  The archivist held her hands out, and her lips moved slowly as she whispered what she wanted. A heavy book thudded into her arms, dropped out of thin air.

  Hailey cleared the reading area and moved the book into place.

  “What is that?” There was a familiar look to the book.

  “It is a record of the contracts of the damned.”

  “Yeah. I don’t think my dad’s slip could have been a one-off. Find the first contract signed by a ghost hunter.”

  Hailey flipped rapidly through the book and paused. “You are correct. Here is a contract for the agreement that the hunter’s family will survive the inquisition, as long as the girls no longer bear the burden of being hunters.”

  “And so, there were far fewer ghost hunters to free the trapped and the damned. Now, can you look twenty-eight years ago?”

  The pages flipped, and Hailey pushed the book toward her. “Here it is.”

  Hecate swallowed the lump in her throat at her father’s signature. The contract made her smile. “He made changes to it before he signed it.”

  “What?”

  “My father. He signed over his ghost hunting during his lifetime, in order to keep his eldest daughter from inheriting the gene that would pass to her children. The contract was valid for his lifetime only. The moment he died, he was able to take control of his own ghost and set things in motion. It explains so much. Well, it explains me. I always thought I was an accident, but with this contract, I was very much on purpose. That is an enormous relief.”

  Hailey smiled. “I am glad that this information could help. Would you like to see his updated will?”

  “He had a will?”

  “He had two. There is the one that your mother had a copy of and another that he mailed to his father.”

  After reading the will, she had to talk to her grandfather. “Is there anything else I need to know—oh! Where did the grimoire come from?”

  The demon contract book came out again, and the original male who had stopped his daughters from being hunted had been taunted with the possibility of a free life for his grandchildren. After one hundred years, a grimoire would appear to every hunter, and if they could complete it before their own natural death, they would free their entire line from the curse inflicted on it.

  The grimoire recorded the gift given to each of the humans who had signed the contract and suffered a burning ghost afterward.

  “I am guessing there is no way for me to reset the whole thing and start with no restrictions.”

  Hailey sighed. “I am afraid it doesn’t work that w
ay. Are you ready to go back when you left?”

  “I am. Thank you again.”

  “It is no trouble, and I rather enjoyed it. If you ever want to come back, I have recharged your amulet. It can bring you back here as many times as you like.”

  Hecate was going to thank her again when the world stretched and flexed, and she was standing at home once again with Amber and Mr. Worring staring at her. She watched herself disappear, and she grinned. Right on time.

  * * * *

  Hailey looked at the next arrival, and she inclined her head. “Was it all right that I told her all of that?”

  Death smiled, his expression pleasant. “It was perfect. She is gaining everything I could not give her. The rest is up to her.”

  “You think she can do it? Break the curse and free her family?”

  “I think that she is of my blood and of my line. If anyone can do it, she is the one. That is why they are circling and trying to turn her. She can break the curse and unleash generations of ghost hunters back on the world. The demons would find their pickings rather slim after that.” He chuckled. “I look forward to her exploits.”

  Hailey smiled. “Can I do anything else for you?”

  “I need to see her father’s contract with the demon. I need to make sure he is beyond their touch.”

  “Can you do anything about it if he is in their clutches?”

  Death smiled at her. “Oh, yes. The dead belong to me. The creator decides where they travel to based on their actions in life. His actions were taken after death, and that is my purview.”

  Hailey nodded and led him to the back of the archive where the books were waiting a return to their proper shelves, but she didn’t need to help Death read the documents. She just had to provide what he asked for.

  It was probably the most stressful afternoon she had had since she took the position of an archive. She had to admit one thing. There was definitely a resemblance between Death and his most recent granddaughter. Their eyes looked right through her soul.

  Chapter Ten

  Hecate took a day to absorb what she had learned before Mr. Worring came to her in a state.

  “She’s dying. She can’t get to the phone.”

  Hecate called emergency services, explained the situation of Mrs. Worring’s health, and then, Hecate powered Mr. Worring up completely and sent him to be at his wife’s side.

  She called the ghosts to the car, and they piled in. Hecate got into her seat, buckled up, and launched down her country lane.

  A tree was down across her drive, and she knew it wasn’t natural. There were no trees that close to her drive. She accelerated and hit the ghost drive, passing through the obstruction and on her way to the city in a heartbeat.

  There was something wrong with the situation. Mrs. Worring had been strong, aside from cancer.

  Emergency services were on the scene, but heat was radiating from the Worring house.

  It would take a bit of energy to make it past the medics and officers, but she would have to ghost herself to pass without notice.

  She grabbed her bag, put her whip on her hip, and stuck the blade to her other side. Carrying her bag would be awkward, but she would need it for the trip out. The weapons were necessary for the walk into the house. Whatever was inside wasn’t pleasant.

  She inhaled, closed the car door, and ghosted. The walk to the rear door of the house took her through several of the milling medics. The men and women shivered as she passed, looking around for what had chilled them to the bone.

  Hecate entered the house, and she went into ghost time. Arthur was at his wife’s side, and her ghost was slowly emerging while he kept watch over her.

  The heat was coming from a back room. Hecate carefully made her way past Arthur, giving him a supportive nod, and then, she focused on her task.

  The red ghost was in one of the guest rooms, rummaging through the drawers. If it could have contact with the physical world, it was very strong and very angry.

  “What are you doing here?” Hecate spoke softly.

  “Who are you?” The young woman looked to be in her early twenties.

  “I am the extractor. You do not belong here.”

  The young woman glared. “I used to. Twenty years ago, I was here, and I was the jewel of this house. One little mistake, and I was sent away forever. One mistake, and I was out on the streets!”

  The red heat flared brightly. Hecate set her bag down calmly and brought out a fresh poppet.

  “What? Do you want me to play with that doll?”

  “No. The doll is for me.” Hecate cocked her head. “When did you sign your contract?”

  The woman was surprised. “How do you know about that?”

  “Oh, you are here, and your ghost is crimson. Only those who have signed on with a demon have that particular tinge.”

  The woman frowned. “He wasn’t a demon. He was a handsome guy with the contract. He said nothing would happen to me as long as I was alive.”

  Hecate nodded. “And you died almost immediately.”

  “How did you know that? I just wanted to be here to punish them in their last moments. That was my wish. My contract.”

  “Why?”

  “They kicked me out!”

  Hecate looked carefully at her, and she took in the signs left by injectables. Her elbows, fingertips, and feet glowed brightly. “You were arrested for heroin use. You were an adult, and they were your foster home. They couldn’t take you back until you finished getting clean.”

  “Who told?” A flare of bright heat curled some of the photos on the mirrors.

  “You did. Your photos did. All of the images are of you as a teenager. None of you as a child. They stood with you in nearly every picture, but beyond that, I know they still loved you and were waiting for you.”

  The red ghost approached her. “How do you know that?”

  “They kept your room as you left it. Every picture, every medal, every book. It is all still here. She lost her husband and had me remove him. She never removed you.”

  The red flickered, and she staggered back. “They didn’t let me come home.”

  “Did you complete your recovery? The Worrings are kind, but they would have put their foot down to save your life in the only method they had.”

  There was a soft whisper. “No. They didn’t... they wouldn’t... they were crying. Why didn’t I remember that they were crying?”

  The fury drained out of her, and she sat heavily. “Why didn’t I remember?”

  Hecate didn’t let her guard down. “You didn’t want to. Who wants to carry that kind of guilt into the next life? You waited for twenty years, based on your clothing, and when she was dying, you returned.”

  “Yes. I returned to punish her for abandoning me.”

  The fire was back, and Hecate gripped her whip and wrapped it around her conversational partner. The woman was dragged forward, and she was sucked into the poppet.

  Hecate wrapped the poppet in foil and kept it next to her as she walked past the slow-motion medical treatment. Winifred was already out and standing with Arthur. She smiled and waved at Hecate.

  “If you two are ready to go, we can take my car. I need you to speak with her before I send her to her afterlife.”

  Arthur and Winifred held hands and followed her through the men still working to revive the empty body on the floor. They got in the car, and the ghost drive was up, ready to send them hurtling back home in order to get the smouldering ghost to a safe place where no one would be hurt.

  Hecate could feel the heat burning into her side as she clutched the poppet and steered with her free hand. The SUV ghosted through the fallen tree on the way back in.

  There were red flickers in her home. There were never supposed to be red flickers in her home.

  She stopped the car and threw the poppet in front of her. It burst into flame, and the woman was laughing. “It worked. I can’t believe you fell for
it!”

  The cackling was annoying, so Hecate drew her blade and swept it through the woman whose name she didn’t even know. Both halves of her burst into flame, and she dropped to the ground, scorching the grass into ash.

  She moved at full speed through her territory, slicing, hacking, and constricting the strange red ghosts into ash. It took her five minutes of live time and six months in ghost time. She was done. Hecate slumped in the center of her yard, and she gasped for air, for heat, for anything that would make her human. She came up empty.

  This was not the moment that she died. She knew when she died, and her hands were wrinkled, and there was a child laughing in the background. This wasn’t that moment.

  She pushed herself upward and looked around, seeing a solid figure walking toward her. She tried to stand to face him, but it was beyond her.

  “Oh, how pretty. On your knees.” Demler chuckled. “It is a lovely sight, though you are a strange shade of grey.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Oh, I am here to watch you die. I will get a tremendous bonus if you die in my presence.” He shrugged. “It will also be fun.”

  “So, you are just here to watch. You aren’t going to interfere?”

  “No, putting the cursed here was as far as I could take it. That tree did a number on the natural protections. I was able to bring them right in.”

  Blue lights were flickering around them. She took her whip and wrapped the glowing strand around her arm, leaving the handle-free. She extended the handle to the air. “If you guys could get together and get me to the emergency fund, that would definitely help.”

  The handle was lifted, and there was a sudden tug as forty-one ghosts pulled her across the grass and toward the stone and live-edge table in front of her home. She was flipped up and onto it, grunting as she landed.

  “Money won’t do you any good. Ah, you protected your house too well. They can’t even get you inside.”

  He was chuckling as he sauntered up to her position on what appeared to be a sacrificial table.

  He continued to gloat, but she was reaching deep. Through the wood, into the stone, and she was pulling her power back into her, into every cell and muscle fiber. She was emptying her emergency fund and pulling it back into her a piece at a time.

 

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