“I’d like to make close personal friends with your stupid ass—” he started to say but stopped when Morio began to squeeze.
“Talk to my wife like that once more and I’ll break you in two. I no longer give a rat’s ass that you’re a gift from Grandmother Coyote.” His voice was dangerously low and I knew that he’d reached his breaking point. It took a lot to push Morio into a corner but the moment he got there, he lost it and all hell broke loose. In a way, he was more dangerous than Smoky because Morio was more unpredictable.
Rodney squeaked and shut up. Delilah chose that moment to shift back to herself. I gave her a withering look. She scuffed the ground and muttered, “Sorry,” and looked the other way.
“Can we puh-leeze get on with this?” I wanted to launch into a diatribe but it was useless. “Rodney, get your bony butt in that hole and drag out the box.”
Morio set him down on the ground and, as the skeleton flashed me the finger and headed for the hole, the three of us began to back up.
Rodney noticed our retreat. “Where you bitches going? Why—” He stopped, peered in the hole, and groaned. “You can’t be serious? You want me to drag a cursed box out of the ground? I get it! You think I’m expendable! Let the bony guy get it. If anybody’s going to fry, it’s me, is it? Well, I tell you bitches, I’m not—”
Morio’s voice ran a timbre lower than scary. “You are expendable. At any time, whenever I choose.”
Rodney shut up. It was only for a moment, but right then I knew that, beneath the surface, he was terrified of Morio.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re the big bad youkai and I’m just your pip-squeak love bitch. Fine, leave it to me. But if you blow me up, I’m quitting!” Still muttering, he climbed down in the hole and after a couple of minutes, he huffed and puffed his way out, dragging the box behind him. We all took a simultaneous step back.
“What now, boss?” Rodney edged away from the box as he glanced up at Morio. Even without skin and flesh to cover his skull, I could see the worry on his face. Or what would have been his face.
Morio crossed his arms. “Open it.”
“But—but—” Rodney was serious now. “It’s cursed. I could be killed.”
“You can’t die because you aren’t alive. You’re a golem who happens to have some sentience attached to you. I guarantee you, I am far more dangerous than anything attached to that box. Open it.” Morio took one step forward.
Rodney let out a shriek and raced back to the box. As the skeleton flipped open the lid and jumped back, I covered my eyes and waited for a moment, then peeked from behind my hands when there was no immediate flash or explosion.
“Nothing happened.” Rodney sounded confused.
“Faulty hex,” I said, edging my way forward again.
“What’s inside the box?” Delilah asked, coming out from behind the tree where she’d been hiding.
“A couple of crystals and a pouch. That’s all. You want I should open this thing? It’s pretty full.” He held up a black felt pouch.
“Do it,” Morio said.
I decided to let my suddenly badass lover handle this. That way, if Rodney got smashed to smithereens, he’d be the one answering to Grandmother Coyote, not me. And seeing that they were related in a weird kind of extended family way, she might be nicer to him if he screwed up.
Rodney opened the pouch. Nothing happened again. He slowly upended the contents into the box and I heard the clink of metal on metal.
“Well, well, well,” the skeleton said. “Lookie what we have here!” He held up a necklace.
I edged forward another step and peeked in the box. A scattering of jewelry littered the tray. But there were other things in the pouch, as well. Not so happy things. Bones, to be precise, intermingled with the rings and pendants and earrings. Finger bones. Knuckle bones. Despair radiated off them in concentric waves, rippling out of the box, hitting me in the gut and making me queasy.
“These belong to women. To the women who disappeared here. Holy fucking hell,” I whispered. “Harold and his pervs were keeping souvenirs from their kills.”
Morio and Delilah joined me and we stared into the box, at the macabre treasure that lay scattered before us.
“No wonder a goshanti formed here,” Morio said, squatting to poke through the items. “The quartz spikes amplified the energy surrounding the trinkets and bones, rather than protecting them from discovery. Once again, Dante’s Hellions fucked up. I’ll bet you anything the rune for hexing is actually a rune to ground the energy and keep it right here. We aren’t going to be able to cleanse the goshanti devil from this lot until we disperse the items and put these bones to rest.”
I nodded. Harold’s group had managed to summon a goshanti. Could they have other surprises that might account for the increase in spirit activity from the Netherworld that we’d been seeing? And if so, how the hell were we going to figure out all of the damage they’d caused?
Shaking off the speculation, I looked back at the box, a wave of sadness rushing through me. “Let’s start by sorting out the bones. We can purify and bury them.”
Rodney reached down and started separating the bones to one side. For once, he remained quiet.
I stared at him. “What? No wisecracks? No dirty jokes up your sleeve?” My voice had a bitter edge to it and I realized I was looking for someone to take my anger out on.
The skeleton looked up at me for a moment, then shook his head. Still silent, he returned to his work.
CHAPTER 5
“So we have to bury the bones first?” Delilah asked.
Morio nodded. “If we don’t, they’ll just keep infusing her with energy.” He stood up, taking the box from Rodney, who had put the jewelry back in the pouch, leaving the bones out. “We need to bury and salt the bones, then sanctify the ground and cast a spell to calm the spirits. I wonder what happened to the rest of the bodies?”
“Other than Sabele, I have no idea.” I looked around, not entirely sure I wanted to know. “I just hope that they were dead when Harold chopped off their fingers. Those are pretty severe hack marks and they weren’t done with a surgeon’s skill. I doubt he’d use anesthesia.”
Even as I spoke, I knew the fear they’d felt had fueled the Hellions—fueled their rituals and their sadistic pleasures. And then, without warning, I could hear them. Whispering screams on the wind. Women begging, Please stop, please let me go, please don’t hurt me anymore.
“I wish we’d let Menolly kill the whole lot of those pricks,” I said softly. “If they were here now, I’d do it myself.”
Delilah shook her head. “Not if I got to them first. I can hear them, too,” she said, pale and somber.
Surprised, I glanced up at her. Her eyes were cool, flashing emerald, and I caught the scent of bonfire smoke that suddenly whipped up around her. Her tattoo—the black crescent scythe on her forehead—flashed with gold specks. The Autumn Lord must be riding her soul today.
We were all changing, evolving into freaks. But if we had to live out on the fringe, at least we were going off the deep end on the right side.
A year earlier, we’d been softer. Now, we were as bloodthirsty as those we fought. What would we be like by the end of the war? Or would we even be alive? My thoughts spiraled into a pit as black as the clouds and I tried to stave off the mood but it was as entrenched as the rain soaking us to the skin.
But even as the water trickled down my face, making my makeup run, I could tell the downpour was letting up. We’d have at least a few minutes free from the deluge.
“Where do we bury the bones?” I looked around for a suitable place. “Does it matter that the land is butt-ugly with turmoil from the crap that went down here?”
Morio shook his head. “No, because we’re going to calm some of that turmoil.”
And then I saw it. The perfect place—a yew tree. The tree of eternity, the yew was a sentinel of death and rebirth. As I headed over to examine it, I heard Morio grunt with approval. The evergreen sighed as I knelt beside its gnarled, ancient roots and leaned against the trunk. As I pressed my head to the roughened wood, I felt the tree take a deep breath and shudder ever so lightly.
“We have need for your protection, Ancient One,” I whispered, sending my words to dig deep, to touch the roots. One of my abilities as a Moon Witch was that I could talk to plants and herbs, though I tended to steer clear of doing so in the woodlands over here Earthside. There were too many angry plants who feared and distrusted humanity, and anyone who was kin to FBHs. And I was half-human.
“What do you want?” The thought was so strong it almost blew me back, and I glanced up at the tree, half expecting to see a face there. But the burls and knots remained fixed in place.
I rested my hands against the trunk and focused my attention again. “Have you felt the unsettled spirits on this land? The women who were murdered?”
“Yesssssss . . .” The answer was drawn out on the breeze, a long susurration that ruffled my hair.
“We have bones that need to be purified and buried in sanctified ground. May we bury them beneath your branches?”
Part of me didn’t want to ask, I wanted to just bury the bones and hope for the best. But the tree might say no. So I decided not to take the chance because if we didn’t have permission, we ran the risk of not being able to quiet the ghosts.
I enjoyed communing with herbs and flowers, but tree devas scared the hell out of me. They were powerful and old and they had a subtle magic all their own that no one—be they witch or wizard or necromancer—could harness. Only the dryads and floraeds and wood sprites could truly embody the power of the forests.
Morio settled on one knee behind me, but kept his hands to himself. He was proficient enough to know I was in a trance and wouldn’t disturb me. After a long, long pause, the yew stirred again.
“Cleanse and bury them and I will keep them safe. But there are other spirits here who still walk the earth, restless and searching. The thread of energy that runs through this land has been awakened and sings strong and vibrant, but off-key, summoning ghosts to journey its length.”
The yew fell silent again and I sat back.
“She’ll guard them,” I said. “But she said there are more spirits around this lot, and she mentioned a thread of energy that’s attracting ghosts here. I’m thinking the ley line? We know one connects Harold’s house to the Wedgewood Cemetery. The same ley line runs through the Wayfarer—where the portal is—and two of the rogue portals.”
Morio stroked his goatee. After a moment, he nodded. “That sounds right, but what do we do about it?”
“We’ll figure that out later, but for now, let’s get these bones buried while there’s a lull in the rain.” I motioned to Delilah. “Can you start digging a hole at the base of the tree? Try to position it in the shelter of the roots. Meanwhile, I’ll get the salt and Morio—will you set up the candles?”
As I scattered a ring of salt around the yew, Delilah dug away at a hole for the bones. Morio settled a black pillar candle at one side of the hole, a white one at the other.
Rodney, who had been watching us silently, let out a loud huff. “You bitches forgetting something?”
Great. The jackass was back in action. “What do you want now?”
“You didn’t mix rosemary into the salt. Any necromancer worth his nuts knows you have to mix rosemary into the salt.”
Gritting my teeth, I exhaled a thin stream of air as I tried to keep my cool. “For one thing, we aren’t necromancers, although we’re working death magic—”
“Smart, real smart.” He made a dinging sound. “A headstone for the broad with the high beams!”
I reached over and thunked him one with my forefinger and thumb. “Will you just shut the fuck up and listen? Rosemary is for summoning. We need sage for purification, but only inside the grave. Now keep your mouth shut and let us work.”
Rodney gazed at me for a moment and then, with a baleful fire burning in his eye sockets, he started to grow. I stumbled back as he rose to the height of a good-sized man within seconds.
“Holy hell!” I stopped as he started toward me. A wreath of fire surrounded him, glowing like a thin nimbus in his aura, burning brightly around his pelvis bones, and he laughed softly. I jumped back a step. A super-sized Rodney was not on my list of must-haves.
“You’re one fine bitch, all right, and I’m going to have myself a field day,” he said.
I squeaked and went scrambling toward Morio, who looked up from arranging the candles.
“Ooph,” Morio grunted as I knocked him over in my haste to get away from the advancing Rodney. He leapt up, stopping short as he took in Rodney’s new and not-so-improved size. “What the—knock it off! Enough!” He jumped up and grabbed Rodney’s wooden box.
Rodney paused in mid-step. “Oh please, let me have her. Just for an hour. You two are the most kinky pervs I know. Let me play with the Faerie slut? Pretty please? You can watch—”
Morio pushed me out of the way and strode over to Rodney. He didn’t look happy. “Why didn’t you tell us you could grow like that?”
Rodney shrugged. “You never asked.”
“How often can you do it?”
“All night long. Want to find out, youkai bitch?” the skeleton said, snorting. “Oh, this.” He swept one bony hand over his body. “Like it? The things I can do with these fingers . . .” At Morio’s scowl, he cleared his throat and said, “Okay, okay. When I’m recharged enough, I can hold this size for an hour or two. Then I revert.”