One Grave at a Time
Page 10
And my reward for patience now would be a lover who was single-minded in his domination of my body later. More tremors of anticipation rippled through me. I smoothed my hands over my ni**les and down my thighs, tempted to reach lower and release a little of that simmering tension before he got back, but decided not to. Some things were worth the wait, and Bones was definitely one of those things.
I'd drained the tub and was busy rinsing conditioner from my hair when my cat let out an extended yowl that was loud enough to be heard over the shower. In the next room, Dexter barked sharply, ending on a piercing whine. I tensed. Helsing might be temperamental for no reason, but I'd only heard the dog bark that way when-
Something slammed against the back of my head with enough force to send my face crashing into the wall in front of me. I spun around, blinking to get the tiny tile shards out of my eyes thanks to the new head-sized hole in the wall, but even though I couldn't see, I knew who'd attacked me. Kramer. How had the ghost managed to sneak up on me without any of my inner warning bells going off?
"Hexe," the heavily accented voice of the Inquisitor hissed.
I ripped the iron shower rod off the wall, whipping it like a sword toward the source of that voice before realizing the futility in the gesture.
"Oh, if you had flesh, I'd beat the ass off you!" I swore, throwing the rod aside.
My vision cleared enough for me to see the tunic-clad figure about six feet away. The exposed cistern and chunks of ruined ceramic at my feet showed that Kramer had used the toilet tank lid to bash the back of my head. F**ker had slid that off quiet as a mouse, hadn't he? I braced to dodge whatever other bathroom items he might try to bludgeon me with next, but after a disgusted moment, I saw that Kramer's attention was focused on the apex of my wide-legged fighter's stance.
A towel was within reach, but I fought my urge to snatch it up because one, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of acting ashamed, and two, my cold-blooded practicality recognized that distraction was a weapon.
Luckily, it wasn't the only weapon I had.
I shoved my hand into the hole my face had formed in the wall, bloodying it on the ragged tile edges. "Sic him and don't let him leave," I snarled, willing forth the Remnants with all the energy I had.
Kramer's eyes widened right before he rapidly began to fade. But aside from the cool blast of air I felt, covering my skin with gooseflesh from head to toe, nothing else happened.
"I said, sic him!" I repeated, slicing my hand so hard that the tile crumpled beneath my force.
Nothing. The only thing filling the room was my growing alarm. What was the problem? I had blood running down my fingers, my skin felt as though it crawled with icy ants, and I wanted the Remnants here like damn, but my fiendishly lethal, wrath-of-the-grave buddies were nowhere to be seen.
Kramer must have heard or sensed that I wasn't able to summon help, because he rematerialized into such clarity that I could see the white stubble on his chin and the different places where his tunic was rent from age. But despite cutting my hand repeatedly and concentrating hard enough to make my jaw grind, he was still the only apparition in the bathroom.
Chapter Eleven
The worst feeling of deja vu washed over me. I'd counted on borrowed abilities once before in a fight only to discover they were no longer in working order. I should've never made that same mistake again. Fool me twice, shame on me!
The Inquisitor bared his teeth in something too cruel to be called a smile. "You see? God strikes down your powers of witchcraft in my defense!"
"Boy, are you wrong about who's got your back," I spat, trying to regroup. Okay, so I could no longer summon Remnants to my aid, but there must be something I could do aside from cringe and duck.
"My instructions are from on high, for 'thou shall not suffer a witch to live,' " Kramer thundered.
" 'You are not under the law, but grace. Judge not lest ye be judged. He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone,' " I shot back. "How come you didn't pay attention to those instructions from on high, you filthy hypocrite?"
Surprise flickered across Kramer's features, but my childhood had been spent in a household where church attendance and Bible reading were the norm, so I could trade Scripture quotes with him all day long. Then that surprise faded, and Kramer's expression returned to its normal mask of vindictiveness.
Despite my determination to find a way to kick the Inquisitor's ass, dread still slivered up my spine. I was stark na**d in a small room with a powerful, pissed-off ghost who'd already brained me with a toilet fixture, and my only effective weapon against him was out of order. For the first time in my long history of life-and-death standoffs, I had no idea what to do next. All the battle training I'd worked so hard to master would do me no good under these circumstances. I couldn't hurt what I couldn't touch, and Kramer was no more solid than a dreaded memory. As if he could sense my uncertainty, the Inquisitor's smile widened.
Hearing our hotel room door crash open almost made me sag in relief. Bones must have come back. Even though he couldn't land a physical blow against Kramer, either, two against one odds would buy us some time to come up with a plan-
"You messed with the wrong white girl, motherfucker!" Tyler shouted.
I don't know who was more shocked, me or Kramer. The formerly timid medium appeared in the doorway, holding a smoking trash can with what looked like burning vines stuffed inside it. His gaze darted around the bathroom, seeking out the assailant he couldn't see yet.
I had no idea what Tyler intended, but I was willing to help. "There!" I said, pointing at Kramer.
The ghost stared at Tyler, his head cocked, almost as if he were curious to see what the medium was up to. Tyler dug out a handful of those burning vines, cursing as they singed his fingers, and threw them in the direction I'd indicated.
Kramer screamed as soon as the first ones sailed through the space he occupied. His form dissolved, but a huge chunk of the countertop smashed off and hurtled toward Tyler. The medium ducked with a quickness I hadn't expected of him, and the makeshift missile landed in the bathroom wall instead.
I didn't know what was in that trash can. It wasn't garlic and weed from the smell of it, but anything that hurt Kramer was something I wanted to utilize. I lunged forward, grabbing the smoldering vines off the bathroom floor, and threw them after the hazy outline of the ghost.
Kramer shrieked again as the vines passed through him. Whatever the stuff was, I loved it.
"Over here," I urged Tyler, snatching up another handful. Tyler and I threw our burning bundles at the ghost like a couple of synchronized baseball pitchers. The edges of the smoking plants brushed Kramer before he could make himself poof out of the way. With a final, pained scream, the Inquisitor vanished from sight completely.
"Run, fucker, run!" I shouted, so relieved we had something else to use as a weapon that I could've hugged Tyler until his ribs creaked. I didn't do that, but I did give him a brief squeeze that nevertheless elicited an oof.
"Personal space," Tyler chided, when I let him go. "And, you know, a towel would be the least you could put on."
I burst out laughing. For years, I'd been discomfited by the blase attitude most vampires had about nudity, and yet here I was, hugging someone I'd known less than two weeks while wearing nothing but some stray suds.
I covered myself with the closest item at hand, Bones's leather jacket, which stuck to my wet skin. "Sorry. Kramer kind of interrupted my shower . . ."
My voice trailed off because Bones suddenly appeared in the room, silver knives in each hand and dark gaze raking over us.
"I heard you scream. What happened?"
Tyler still held the trash can, its smoldering contents filling the room with a slight haze. As if on cue, the fire alarm began blaring, and water shot out from the sprinklers on the wall. In the next room, Dexter started to whine in time with the whooping of the alarm.
"What happened is my borrowed powers are kaput, and Tyler's really a badass in disguise," I replied, nudging the medium. "Look at you, busting through that door to lay the smackdown on Kramer."
Bones's gaze raked over Tyler with a new appreciation. "Well done, mate." Then he switched his knives to one hand and ran the other one over my neck. "You've blood on you. Are you all right?"
He knew that any wounds a vampire sustained would heal almost instantly, but his hand still traveled over me as if searching for injuries. Emotions tangled along my subconscious, flaring through his shields with their intensity. Concern, rage at my attack, and guilt that he hadn't been here when it happened.
"Don't," I said, taking his hand. "How could we have known Kramer would find us here, or that Marie's abilities would finally run their course?"
A little inner voice said I should have suspected that my borrowed powers were wearing off. For the past week, no new ghosts had found their way to me, but I'd figured all the time I spent in the cave around the limestone, quartz, and flowing water trap had possibly dulled my signal to the other side.
"Makes me wonder how he found us now," Bones said, his brows drawing together.
I shrugged. "Ohio's a haven for the supernatural, and we've been traipsing back and forth in public for over a week. Maybe one of Kramer's ghost buddies saw us and tipped him off. Maybe he happened to be in the area because he was drawn here like countless other ghosts."
"Or perhaps Kramer followed Elisabeth here after one of her failed tailing attempts," Bones said darkly.
That was also a possibility, and I'd be sure to tell the ghost to be extra careful in the future.
"Just what we need," I muttered, as a flustered hotel employee appeared in our doorway. Whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips as he took in Tyler, still holding the smoking trash can, and Bones and me ignoring the water spraying down on us.
"Small mishap concerning a dropped cigarette in the trash, but it's all sorted out now," Bones stated while flashing an emerald glare at the employee. "Go back and tell them to shut off the alarm and sprinklers."
The employee turned around without another word. I waited until he was out of sight before speaking again.
"We need to check on Chris and the others. What if I wasn't the first person Kramer attacked?"
Bones nodded, muttering, "Stay here," to Tyler.
"No, he needs to come, too." It was safer to be in a group in case Kramer lurked nearby, waiting to pick off any stragglers. "Besides, he might have more of whatever it is that scared Kramer off."
"It's sage," Tyler replied, squaring his shoulders. "Would've used it on Kramer that day at my shop, but I was too busy almost dying. I have more of it in my room. Besides, I'm not going anywhere without Dexter."
I dropped to my knees beside the bed, Helsing's rapid heartbeat letting me know where he was. Smart feline had run for cover once the porcelain started flying. How I'd fight a ghost while clutching a panicked cat was anyone's guess, but I, too, wasn't going to risk leaving him alone in the room if Kramer came back looking for round two.
"Come on, kitty," I murmured. "We're outta here."
I dropped my suitcase inside the small bedroom that had been mine from birth to age twenty-two. A fine layer of dust covered the windowsills and furniture, but I didn't have time to start cleaning. First things first, and that was prepping the house for way more guests than there was room for.
"Set up the EMF meters in the kitchen and family room," I heard Chris direct. "Then I want infrared and RK2s in place in the other rooms. Nothing spectral comes through these walls without our knowing it, people."
"You do that. I'm sticking close to Dexter. He'll know if a ghost is coming before any of your machines do," Tyler muttered, coming up the stairs.
Given the dog's track record, I tended to agree. Even Helsing had proven that he could sense Kramer's approach, but if the equipment Chris set up could provide an additional warning, who was I to scorn helpful technology? Dexter and Helsing had to sleep sometimes.
The good news was no one else had been visited by Kramer at the hotel. The bad news was that it wouldn't take Kramer long to correct that oversight if we stayed, so we'd needed a new place that was still within reasonable driving distance of the cave. Plus, the fewer innocent bystanders near us, the better if Kramer did find us again. He hadn't proven to be considerate of others.
That made my former childhood home our best option for the next few days until the trap was completed. My mother had sold it after my grandparents died and we relocated with my new secret government job, but I'd bought it back after a nice couple had been murdered here by vampires trying to draw me out. Since then, most people thought the place was empty. Normally, it was. I kept the electric and water on, since Bones and I occasionally stayed here when we visited Ohio. The orchard surrounding this house hadn't been harvested in years. My frugal grandfather must be turning over in his grave at the waste of so many perfectly good cherry trees. Still, the acres of overgrown orchard acted as a natural privacy barrier, hiding any lights or activity in the house from our closest neighbors.
Bones came into the bedroom, lining the windows and furniture tops with a heavy layer of minced garlic and marijuana. The former had been procured after a quick stop at an all-night grocery store, but the latter required green-eyeing a local drug dealer into giving up his entire stock. I wish I could say it had been hard to find someone peddling weed in my hometown, but it had only taken a few minutes driving through a derelict neighborhood to detect the distinctive smell and follow it to its source.
I'd drained the tub and was busy rinsing conditioner from my hair when my cat let out an extended yowl that was loud enough to be heard over the shower. In the next room, Dexter barked sharply, ending on a piercing whine. I tensed. Helsing might be temperamental for no reason, but I'd only heard the dog bark that way when-
Something slammed against the back of my head with enough force to send my face crashing into the wall in front of me. I spun around, blinking to get the tiny tile shards out of my eyes thanks to the new head-sized hole in the wall, but even though I couldn't see, I knew who'd attacked me. Kramer. How had the ghost managed to sneak up on me without any of my inner warning bells going off?
"Hexe," the heavily accented voice of the Inquisitor hissed.
I ripped the iron shower rod off the wall, whipping it like a sword toward the source of that voice before realizing the futility in the gesture.
"Oh, if you had flesh, I'd beat the ass off you!" I swore, throwing the rod aside.
My vision cleared enough for me to see the tunic-clad figure about six feet away. The exposed cistern and chunks of ruined ceramic at my feet showed that Kramer had used the toilet tank lid to bash the back of my head. F**ker had slid that off quiet as a mouse, hadn't he? I braced to dodge whatever other bathroom items he might try to bludgeon me with next, but after a disgusted moment, I saw that Kramer's attention was focused on the apex of my wide-legged fighter's stance.
A towel was within reach, but I fought my urge to snatch it up because one, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of acting ashamed, and two, my cold-blooded practicality recognized that distraction was a weapon.
Luckily, it wasn't the only weapon I had.
I shoved my hand into the hole my face had formed in the wall, bloodying it on the ragged tile edges. "Sic him and don't let him leave," I snarled, willing forth the Remnants with all the energy I had.
Kramer's eyes widened right before he rapidly began to fade. But aside from the cool blast of air I felt, covering my skin with gooseflesh from head to toe, nothing else happened.
"I said, sic him!" I repeated, slicing my hand so hard that the tile crumpled beneath my force.
Nothing. The only thing filling the room was my growing alarm. What was the problem? I had blood running down my fingers, my skin felt as though it crawled with icy ants, and I wanted the Remnants here like damn, but my fiendishly lethal, wrath-of-the-grave buddies were nowhere to be seen.
Kramer must have heard or sensed that I wasn't able to summon help, because he rematerialized into such clarity that I could see the white stubble on his chin and the different places where his tunic was rent from age. But despite cutting my hand repeatedly and concentrating hard enough to make my jaw grind, he was still the only apparition in the bathroom.
Chapter Eleven
The worst feeling of deja vu washed over me. I'd counted on borrowed abilities once before in a fight only to discover they were no longer in working order. I should've never made that same mistake again. Fool me twice, shame on me!
The Inquisitor bared his teeth in something too cruel to be called a smile. "You see? God strikes down your powers of witchcraft in my defense!"
"Boy, are you wrong about who's got your back," I spat, trying to regroup. Okay, so I could no longer summon Remnants to my aid, but there must be something I could do aside from cringe and duck.
"My instructions are from on high, for 'thou shall not suffer a witch to live,' " Kramer thundered.
" 'You are not under the law, but grace. Judge not lest ye be judged. He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone,' " I shot back. "How come you didn't pay attention to those instructions from on high, you filthy hypocrite?"
Surprise flickered across Kramer's features, but my childhood had been spent in a household where church attendance and Bible reading were the norm, so I could trade Scripture quotes with him all day long. Then that surprise faded, and Kramer's expression returned to its normal mask of vindictiveness.
Despite my determination to find a way to kick the Inquisitor's ass, dread still slivered up my spine. I was stark na**d in a small room with a powerful, pissed-off ghost who'd already brained me with a toilet fixture, and my only effective weapon against him was out of order. For the first time in my long history of life-and-death standoffs, I had no idea what to do next. All the battle training I'd worked so hard to master would do me no good under these circumstances. I couldn't hurt what I couldn't touch, and Kramer was no more solid than a dreaded memory. As if he could sense my uncertainty, the Inquisitor's smile widened.
Hearing our hotel room door crash open almost made me sag in relief. Bones must have come back. Even though he couldn't land a physical blow against Kramer, either, two against one odds would buy us some time to come up with a plan-
"You messed with the wrong white girl, motherfucker!" Tyler shouted.
I don't know who was more shocked, me or Kramer. The formerly timid medium appeared in the doorway, holding a smoking trash can with what looked like burning vines stuffed inside it. His gaze darted around the bathroom, seeking out the assailant he couldn't see yet.
I had no idea what Tyler intended, but I was willing to help. "There!" I said, pointing at Kramer.
The ghost stared at Tyler, his head cocked, almost as if he were curious to see what the medium was up to. Tyler dug out a handful of those burning vines, cursing as they singed his fingers, and threw them in the direction I'd indicated.
Kramer screamed as soon as the first ones sailed through the space he occupied. His form dissolved, but a huge chunk of the countertop smashed off and hurtled toward Tyler. The medium ducked with a quickness I hadn't expected of him, and the makeshift missile landed in the bathroom wall instead.
I didn't know what was in that trash can. It wasn't garlic and weed from the smell of it, but anything that hurt Kramer was something I wanted to utilize. I lunged forward, grabbing the smoldering vines off the bathroom floor, and threw them after the hazy outline of the ghost.
Kramer shrieked again as the vines passed through him. Whatever the stuff was, I loved it.
"Over here," I urged Tyler, snatching up another handful. Tyler and I threw our burning bundles at the ghost like a couple of synchronized baseball pitchers. The edges of the smoking plants brushed Kramer before he could make himself poof out of the way. With a final, pained scream, the Inquisitor vanished from sight completely.
"Run, fucker, run!" I shouted, so relieved we had something else to use as a weapon that I could've hugged Tyler until his ribs creaked. I didn't do that, but I did give him a brief squeeze that nevertheless elicited an oof.
"Personal space," Tyler chided, when I let him go. "And, you know, a towel would be the least you could put on."
I burst out laughing. For years, I'd been discomfited by the blase attitude most vampires had about nudity, and yet here I was, hugging someone I'd known less than two weeks while wearing nothing but some stray suds.
I covered myself with the closest item at hand, Bones's leather jacket, which stuck to my wet skin. "Sorry. Kramer kind of interrupted my shower . . ."
My voice trailed off because Bones suddenly appeared in the room, silver knives in each hand and dark gaze raking over us.
"I heard you scream. What happened?"
Tyler still held the trash can, its smoldering contents filling the room with a slight haze. As if on cue, the fire alarm began blaring, and water shot out from the sprinklers on the wall. In the next room, Dexter started to whine in time with the whooping of the alarm.
"What happened is my borrowed powers are kaput, and Tyler's really a badass in disguise," I replied, nudging the medium. "Look at you, busting through that door to lay the smackdown on Kramer."
Bones's gaze raked over Tyler with a new appreciation. "Well done, mate." Then he switched his knives to one hand and ran the other one over my neck. "You've blood on you. Are you all right?"
He knew that any wounds a vampire sustained would heal almost instantly, but his hand still traveled over me as if searching for injuries. Emotions tangled along my subconscious, flaring through his shields with their intensity. Concern, rage at my attack, and guilt that he hadn't been here when it happened.
"Don't," I said, taking his hand. "How could we have known Kramer would find us here, or that Marie's abilities would finally run their course?"
A little inner voice said I should have suspected that my borrowed powers were wearing off. For the past week, no new ghosts had found their way to me, but I'd figured all the time I spent in the cave around the limestone, quartz, and flowing water trap had possibly dulled my signal to the other side.
"Makes me wonder how he found us now," Bones said, his brows drawing together.
I shrugged. "Ohio's a haven for the supernatural, and we've been traipsing back and forth in public for over a week. Maybe one of Kramer's ghost buddies saw us and tipped him off. Maybe he happened to be in the area because he was drawn here like countless other ghosts."
"Or perhaps Kramer followed Elisabeth here after one of her failed tailing attempts," Bones said darkly.
That was also a possibility, and I'd be sure to tell the ghost to be extra careful in the future.
"Just what we need," I muttered, as a flustered hotel employee appeared in our doorway. Whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips as he took in Tyler, still holding the smoking trash can, and Bones and me ignoring the water spraying down on us.
"Small mishap concerning a dropped cigarette in the trash, but it's all sorted out now," Bones stated while flashing an emerald glare at the employee. "Go back and tell them to shut off the alarm and sprinklers."
The employee turned around without another word. I waited until he was out of sight before speaking again.
"We need to check on Chris and the others. What if I wasn't the first person Kramer attacked?"
Bones nodded, muttering, "Stay here," to Tyler.
"No, he needs to come, too." It was safer to be in a group in case Kramer lurked nearby, waiting to pick off any stragglers. "Besides, he might have more of whatever it is that scared Kramer off."
"It's sage," Tyler replied, squaring his shoulders. "Would've used it on Kramer that day at my shop, but I was too busy almost dying. I have more of it in my room. Besides, I'm not going anywhere without Dexter."
I dropped to my knees beside the bed, Helsing's rapid heartbeat letting me know where he was. Smart feline had run for cover once the porcelain started flying. How I'd fight a ghost while clutching a panicked cat was anyone's guess, but I, too, wasn't going to risk leaving him alone in the room if Kramer came back looking for round two.
"Come on, kitty," I murmured. "We're outta here."
I dropped my suitcase inside the small bedroom that had been mine from birth to age twenty-two. A fine layer of dust covered the windowsills and furniture, but I didn't have time to start cleaning. First things first, and that was prepping the house for way more guests than there was room for.
"Set up the EMF meters in the kitchen and family room," I heard Chris direct. "Then I want infrared and RK2s in place in the other rooms. Nothing spectral comes through these walls without our knowing it, people."
"You do that. I'm sticking close to Dexter. He'll know if a ghost is coming before any of your machines do," Tyler muttered, coming up the stairs.
Given the dog's track record, I tended to agree. Even Helsing had proven that he could sense Kramer's approach, but if the equipment Chris set up could provide an additional warning, who was I to scorn helpful technology? Dexter and Helsing had to sleep sometimes.
The good news was no one else had been visited by Kramer at the hotel. The bad news was that it wouldn't take Kramer long to correct that oversight if we stayed, so we'd needed a new place that was still within reasonable driving distance of the cave. Plus, the fewer innocent bystanders near us, the better if Kramer did find us again. He hadn't proven to be considerate of others.
That made my former childhood home our best option for the next few days until the trap was completed. My mother had sold it after my grandparents died and we relocated with my new secret government job, but I'd bought it back after a nice couple had been murdered here by vampires trying to draw me out. Since then, most people thought the place was empty. Normally, it was. I kept the electric and water on, since Bones and I occasionally stayed here when we visited Ohio. The orchard surrounding this house hadn't been harvested in years. My frugal grandfather must be turning over in his grave at the waste of so many perfectly good cherry trees. Still, the acres of overgrown orchard acted as a natural privacy barrier, hiding any lights or activity in the house from our closest neighbors.
Bones came into the bedroom, lining the windows and furniture tops with a heavy layer of minced garlic and marijuana. The former had been procured after a quick stop at an all-night grocery store, but the latter required green-eyeing a local drug dealer into giving up his entire stock. I wish I could say it had been hard to find someone peddling weed in my hometown, but it had only taken a few minutes driving through a derelict neighborhood to detect the distinctive smell and follow it to its source.