One Grave at a Time
Page 19
The second possibility was more likely, and it sucked on many levels.
"You realize we might need more than sage if Kramer overheard us talking last night about how we were planning to trap him," I stated.
"Aw, hell. I didn't think of that," Tyler muttered.
"I did," Bones said with a grim glance at me. His voice lowered until it would be impossible for anyone eavesdropping to overhear him. "Means we need to center our attention on his intended victims instead of the accomplice. Elisabeth said he never wavered once he picked his targets. That will work to our advantage."
My eyes widened, but I made sure to speak as quietly as he despite my surprise. "How, unless we use those women as bait?"
"I hate it when you two whisper like that," Tyler muttered. "Makes me antsy."
"That's precisely what we'll do," Bones replied, holding up a finger to Tyler in the universal gesture for wait. "If Kramer expects us to concentrate on finding and mesmerizing his accomplice, he'll either be extremely zealous in concealing that bloke's identity, and we'll never discover who he is. Or he'll lie to the accomplice about where he's intending to hold the bonfire, sending us on a wild-goose chase while he's off somewhere else having his spot of gruesome fun. Either way, he avoids our trap."
"But if we have the women," I mused, "then Mr. No One Else Will Do would come to us to try and get them. Or he'd send his accomplice for the same purpose."
Bones nodded. "And then, either way, we'd get our chance to nab Kramer or the accomplice. In any event, the women would be safer with us than on their own."
Safer, but not safe. I heaved a mental sigh. Nothing I could do about that. Once they'd been targeted by Kramer, they wouldn't be truly safe until the Inquisitor was rotting in a trap somewhere. We might be able to protect them this Halloween, but the ghost had proven to be more than deadly in his noncorporeal form, too. Even if we returned those women safe and sound to their homes on November 1, with strict instructions to keep sage burning at all times, they had to leave sometime. And when they did, Kramer could poof up and poltergeist them to kingdom come.
If we didn't find a way to trap Kramer-which would be damn hard even if he did come right to our door-we could be saving these women on Halloween only to have them murdered in a different way later, and the same pattern would repeat the year, and the next, and the next . . .
I heaved an actual sigh this time, fixing Bones with a tired, jaded look. "We might need to see Marie."
Bones's face became as hard as granite. "No."
"Who's Marie?" Tyler wondered. I'd said that last part loud enough for him to catch it.
I mimed "wait" at him and lowered my voice again, trying to convince Bones that an audience with a woman who'd been both ally and adversary in the past was worth trying.
"Probably no one in the world knows more about ghosts and the afterlife than the ghoul queen of New Orleans. What if there's a spell that could boot Kramer right off this plane of existence?"
"Then Marie would want too much in return for it, not to mention practicing black magic is against vampire law," was his immediate reply.
"Since when did you worry about being law-abiding?" I scoffed.
His dark gaze was steady. "Since I fell in love with you and assumed Mastership of a line. If it was proven that we practiced black magic-and I don't trust Marie not to mention it-the Law Guardians could sentence us to death. That's a chance I'm not willing to take, Kitten."
I disagreed that Marie would tattle on us, but I remembered all too well how lethally efficient Law Guardians were when it came to death sentences. I'd briefly been under one of those, and only some quick thinking combined with misdirection had prevented my head from parting company with my shoulders less than five minutes after a Law Guardian pronounced that sentence.
The only other way Marie could help us would be to give me another wineglass full of her blood, but for me to admit that my Remnant-summoning powers had run their course held its own set of unacceptable consequences.
Damn. Back to square one: trying to catch someone who was made of air and for all intents and purposes, immortal. You don't have a chance in hell, an insidious inner voice whispered.
Fuck you; pessimism never helped anyone, I told it.
"All right," I said, forcing a smile. "We concentrate on finding the women and let Kramer or his accomplice come to us once we do."
And if they do, that relentless inner voice continued to taunt, you're going to need a helluva lot more than burning sage to save the day.
Yeah, I knew that, too. But I'd resolved to believe that things would work out, and that was what I was going to do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
On October 14, while all of us were in the family room watching a movie to break up the monotony of more fruitless waiting, my new cell phone finally vibrated with a text. I almost leapt up from the couch to read it, praying it wouldn't be a wrong number, then let out a whoop.
"Elisabeth sent over an address! Let's move."
Bones was already on his feet, Spade and Denise following suit, but Ian shot me a piqued look.
"You don't mean all of us, do you? The movie's not over."
"You've seen this one before," I replied in disbelief.
He shrugged. "Watching Snape make fun of Harry is my favorite part."
"Let him stay," Bones stated. "He can watch over Tyler while we're gone. You can rouse yourself to do that if need be, right, mate?"
Ian's mouth curled at the heavy irony in Bones's voice. "Probably."
"I'm not going?" Tyler sounded disappointed, but his thoughts indicated otherwise. Ian, watching over me? Finally, this situation's looking up!
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Tyler, you're staying here with Ian. Try not to let it upset you too much."
It won't, he thought, but said, "I'll manage," so mildly that Bones let out a snort.
I went to the refrigerator and grabbed multiple packets of sage, handing them out to Spade, Denise, and Bones. It felt weird to be loading up on plants instead of silver before a potentially dangerous situation.
My mother marched over, holding out her hand with a challenging glint in her eye. "You're not expecting me to stay behind, too, are you?"
"Um . . ." I hedged.
Actually, I had, thinking that Tyler would do better with my mom here to protect him if by chance Kramer showed up. Hell, if the ghost attacked during the climactic scene with Snape, Harry, and Dumbledore, Ian might not even stop watching the movie to heal any mortal injuries the medium received.
"Tyler would feel safer with both of you," I began.
"The hell I would," Tyler cut me off, glaring. Cock-blocker! rang across my mind.
If I'd still been human, my cheeks would've been flaming. I'd been called a lot of names in my day, but never that one before.
"Fine," I gritted out, hoping Tyler's horniness wouldn't end up being the death of him. "Mom, you're coming. Here's some sage."
She took it almost in surprise, like she'd been expecting me to argue. I wanted to, but between Tyler's mental berating and the fact that I didn't want to leave my mother with only Ian to protect her if Kramer showed up, kept me quiet.
Next I passed out lighters until everyone had several. Then I went to get the final protection against a possible spectral attack: Helsing, who gave me a baleful look when I hustled him into his carrier.
Sage, lighters, and a pissed-off kitty might not look like the most conventional ghost-busting arsenal, but so far, they'd proven to be the most effective.
Elisabeth and Fabian flew into our car even before Bones had it in park.
"You must hurry, he just left!" she said, her accent even thicker with her agitation.
"Which apartment?" I asked.
She pointed at the left-hand corner of the building. "One of the top ones."
Bones's brows went up. "You don't know the number?"
"It's difficult to get such details while trying to remain unseen," Fabian replied, rallying to Elisabeth's defense.
"How many can there be?" I asked Bones, with a philosophical shrug.
He got out of the car. "Appears we're going to find out. Charles," he said, as Spade pulled up alongside us, "stay here and keep some sage burning. With luck, we'll be right back. Fabian, Elisabeth, keep a lookout for Kramer in case the sod returns while we're here."
"What about me?" my mother asked from the backseat.
"You're staying with the car," I told her as I got out, hefting the pet carrier along with me. "No offense, Mom, but your people skills suck."
She huffed in indignation. Bones flashed me an appreciative grin that she couldn't see.
"Keep it running, Justina. We may need you to fetch us in a hurry," he said, his tone very bland.
That explanation mollified her until she thought it through, which didn't happen until we were already up the second flight of stairs of the apartment building.
"You can run faster than that!" I heard her shout from across the parking lot.
Spade's reply was swallowed up by sounds from the occupants in the building, but I caught the hint of his laughter, which meant he'd belted it out without restraint.
"She's got to be steaming," I noted in amusement.
Bones's smile was shameless. "How regrettable."
We climbed the last flight of stairs to the third floor. Several apartments were clustered in the general area Elisabeth had indicated. Because it was right around dinnertime, it sounded like all of them were occupied, too. No narrowing it down that way.
"Well, how do you want to do this?" I asked. "Pretend to be Neighborhood Watch members reporting a rash of car vandalisms, or a sweepstakes clearinghouse with a big check?" That would at least get fewer doors slammed in our faces. Maybe.
"Give me a moment," Bones murmured. He closed his eyes and his aura flared, filling the air with invisible currents. After several seconds, he pointed at the two doors in the far corner without opening his eyes.
"She's in one of those units."
"And you know that because you can somehow use the Force now?" I asked, trying to limit the dubiousness in my tone.
He opened his eyes, tapping the side of his head. "By listening. You're probably tuning everyone's thoughts out, but I'm focusing in on them. A very traumatized woman is behind one of those doors, and I'll wager it's because Kramer just left."
That was what I got for doubting him. Bones was right that I'd pulled my mental shields up high and tight against the barrage of thoughts coming from the apartments, but in doing so, I'd neglected an important tool in finding our target.
"Good thing you're here. That's far too practical to have occurred to me," I added wryly.
He stilled my hand as I was about to knock on the door labeled "B."
"Don't berate yourself. I did the same thing when I first acquired this power, but I've had it much longer, so my response to it has changed. You're not used to it yet, but you will be, then accessing it will be second nature to you also."
Maybe, but it wasn't even my power to begin with. If I stopped drinking from him, that mind-reading ability, like every other borrowed power, would soon be gone. Bleakness briefly threaded through me. In many ways, I was an imposter, my significant strength and skills just the product of a supernatural dietary quirk. Without the capacity to siphon powers through feeding, I probably wouldn't be any more bad-ass than my mother. Would the real Red Reaper please stand up?
Then I pushed those thoughts aside and rapped on the door. I could have my personal identity crisis later, when someone else's life wasn't on the line. If anyone deserved a pity party, it was the woman we were here to collect, and from the muffled sob on the other side of this door, it seemed I was about to meet her.
"Who is it?" a strained voice called out. Can't handle dealing with anyone right now followed on the heels of that, discernible even through my mental barrier.
"We just moved in," I said, trying to sound friendly. "I found this cat wandering around, and I was wondering if you'd recognize who his owner is."
Seemed more plausible than my other ideas considering I was standing here with a cat carrier. The door cracked open, security chain still engaged. Cautious, good for her, but no dead bolt or chain could keep out what was after her. I caught a glimpse of matted blond hair framing a tear-stained face before I held up the carrier, showing her a glimpse of my kitty.
"Wait a second," she mumbled. The door's closing coincided with the slide of the chain being removed. She opened it more fully this time, peering at Helsing.
"Haven't seen him here before," she began.
Emerald blazed forth from Bones's eyes, bright as a traffic light. As quick as she could gasp, she was caught in their depths, mutely stepping back when Bones told her to let us inside.
I closed the door behind us, wincing when I saw the destruction in her apartment. Her couch was overturned, lamps and tables smashed, kitchen cabinets half-torn from their hinges, and multiple pieces of broken dishes littered the floor. Either this was Kramer's work, or she had real issues with her temper.
"Who did this?" Bones asked, still holding her gaze.
Anguish skipped across her expression. "I don't know his name. I can't even see him unless he wants me to."
That was enough confirmation for me, but Bones asked her one more question. "How long has he been coming to you?"
"You realize we might need more than sage if Kramer overheard us talking last night about how we were planning to trap him," I stated.
"Aw, hell. I didn't think of that," Tyler muttered.
"I did," Bones said with a grim glance at me. His voice lowered until it would be impossible for anyone eavesdropping to overhear him. "Means we need to center our attention on his intended victims instead of the accomplice. Elisabeth said he never wavered once he picked his targets. That will work to our advantage."
My eyes widened, but I made sure to speak as quietly as he despite my surprise. "How, unless we use those women as bait?"
"I hate it when you two whisper like that," Tyler muttered. "Makes me antsy."
"That's precisely what we'll do," Bones replied, holding up a finger to Tyler in the universal gesture for wait. "If Kramer expects us to concentrate on finding and mesmerizing his accomplice, he'll either be extremely zealous in concealing that bloke's identity, and we'll never discover who he is. Or he'll lie to the accomplice about where he's intending to hold the bonfire, sending us on a wild-goose chase while he's off somewhere else having his spot of gruesome fun. Either way, he avoids our trap."
"But if we have the women," I mused, "then Mr. No One Else Will Do would come to us to try and get them. Or he'd send his accomplice for the same purpose."
Bones nodded. "And then, either way, we'd get our chance to nab Kramer or the accomplice. In any event, the women would be safer with us than on their own."
Safer, but not safe. I heaved a mental sigh. Nothing I could do about that. Once they'd been targeted by Kramer, they wouldn't be truly safe until the Inquisitor was rotting in a trap somewhere. We might be able to protect them this Halloween, but the ghost had proven to be more than deadly in his noncorporeal form, too. Even if we returned those women safe and sound to their homes on November 1, with strict instructions to keep sage burning at all times, they had to leave sometime. And when they did, Kramer could poof up and poltergeist them to kingdom come.
If we didn't find a way to trap Kramer-which would be damn hard even if he did come right to our door-we could be saving these women on Halloween only to have them murdered in a different way later, and the same pattern would repeat the year, and the next, and the next . . .
I heaved an actual sigh this time, fixing Bones with a tired, jaded look. "We might need to see Marie."
Bones's face became as hard as granite. "No."
"Who's Marie?" Tyler wondered. I'd said that last part loud enough for him to catch it.
I mimed "wait" at him and lowered my voice again, trying to convince Bones that an audience with a woman who'd been both ally and adversary in the past was worth trying.
"Probably no one in the world knows more about ghosts and the afterlife than the ghoul queen of New Orleans. What if there's a spell that could boot Kramer right off this plane of existence?"
"Then Marie would want too much in return for it, not to mention practicing black magic is against vampire law," was his immediate reply.
"Since when did you worry about being law-abiding?" I scoffed.
His dark gaze was steady. "Since I fell in love with you and assumed Mastership of a line. If it was proven that we practiced black magic-and I don't trust Marie not to mention it-the Law Guardians could sentence us to death. That's a chance I'm not willing to take, Kitten."
I disagreed that Marie would tattle on us, but I remembered all too well how lethally efficient Law Guardians were when it came to death sentences. I'd briefly been under one of those, and only some quick thinking combined with misdirection had prevented my head from parting company with my shoulders less than five minutes after a Law Guardian pronounced that sentence.
The only other way Marie could help us would be to give me another wineglass full of her blood, but for me to admit that my Remnant-summoning powers had run their course held its own set of unacceptable consequences.
Damn. Back to square one: trying to catch someone who was made of air and for all intents and purposes, immortal. You don't have a chance in hell, an insidious inner voice whispered.
Fuck you; pessimism never helped anyone, I told it.
"All right," I said, forcing a smile. "We concentrate on finding the women and let Kramer or his accomplice come to us once we do."
And if they do, that relentless inner voice continued to taunt, you're going to need a helluva lot more than burning sage to save the day.
Yeah, I knew that, too. But I'd resolved to believe that things would work out, and that was what I was going to do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
On October 14, while all of us were in the family room watching a movie to break up the monotony of more fruitless waiting, my new cell phone finally vibrated with a text. I almost leapt up from the couch to read it, praying it wouldn't be a wrong number, then let out a whoop.
"Elisabeth sent over an address! Let's move."
Bones was already on his feet, Spade and Denise following suit, but Ian shot me a piqued look.
"You don't mean all of us, do you? The movie's not over."
"You've seen this one before," I replied in disbelief.
He shrugged. "Watching Snape make fun of Harry is my favorite part."
"Let him stay," Bones stated. "He can watch over Tyler while we're gone. You can rouse yourself to do that if need be, right, mate?"
Ian's mouth curled at the heavy irony in Bones's voice. "Probably."
"I'm not going?" Tyler sounded disappointed, but his thoughts indicated otherwise. Ian, watching over me? Finally, this situation's looking up!
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Tyler, you're staying here with Ian. Try not to let it upset you too much."
It won't, he thought, but said, "I'll manage," so mildly that Bones let out a snort.
I went to the refrigerator and grabbed multiple packets of sage, handing them out to Spade, Denise, and Bones. It felt weird to be loading up on plants instead of silver before a potentially dangerous situation.
My mother marched over, holding out her hand with a challenging glint in her eye. "You're not expecting me to stay behind, too, are you?"
"Um . . ." I hedged.
Actually, I had, thinking that Tyler would do better with my mom here to protect him if by chance Kramer showed up. Hell, if the ghost attacked during the climactic scene with Snape, Harry, and Dumbledore, Ian might not even stop watching the movie to heal any mortal injuries the medium received.
"Tyler would feel safer with both of you," I began.
"The hell I would," Tyler cut me off, glaring. Cock-blocker! rang across my mind.
If I'd still been human, my cheeks would've been flaming. I'd been called a lot of names in my day, but never that one before.
"Fine," I gritted out, hoping Tyler's horniness wouldn't end up being the death of him. "Mom, you're coming. Here's some sage."
She took it almost in surprise, like she'd been expecting me to argue. I wanted to, but between Tyler's mental berating and the fact that I didn't want to leave my mother with only Ian to protect her if Kramer showed up, kept me quiet.
Next I passed out lighters until everyone had several. Then I went to get the final protection against a possible spectral attack: Helsing, who gave me a baleful look when I hustled him into his carrier.
Sage, lighters, and a pissed-off kitty might not look like the most conventional ghost-busting arsenal, but so far, they'd proven to be the most effective.
Elisabeth and Fabian flew into our car even before Bones had it in park.
"You must hurry, he just left!" she said, her accent even thicker with her agitation.
"Which apartment?" I asked.
She pointed at the left-hand corner of the building. "One of the top ones."
Bones's brows went up. "You don't know the number?"
"It's difficult to get such details while trying to remain unseen," Fabian replied, rallying to Elisabeth's defense.
"How many can there be?" I asked Bones, with a philosophical shrug.
He got out of the car. "Appears we're going to find out. Charles," he said, as Spade pulled up alongside us, "stay here and keep some sage burning. With luck, we'll be right back. Fabian, Elisabeth, keep a lookout for Kramer in case the sod returns while we're here."
"What about me?" my mother asked from the backseat.
"You're staying with the car," I told her as I got out, hefting the pet carrier along with me. "No offense, Mom, but your people skills suck."
She huffed in indignation. Bones flashed me an appreciative grin that she couldn't see.
"Keep it running, Justina. We may need you to fetch us in a hurry," he said, his tone very bland.
That explanation mollified her until she thought it through, which didn't happen until we were already up the second flight of stairs of the apartment building.
"You can run faster than that!" I heard her shout from across the parking lot.
Spade's reply was swallowed up by sounds from the occupants in the building, but I caught the hint of his laughter, which meant he'd belted it out without restraint.
"She's got to be steaming," I noted in amusement.
Bones's smile was shameless. "How regrettable."
We climbed the last flight of stairs to the third floor. Several apartments were clustered in the general area Elisabeth had indicated. Because it was right around dinnertime, it sounded like all of them were occupied, too. No narrowing it down that way.
"Well, how do you want to do this?" I asked. "Pretend to be Neighborhood Watch members reporting a rash of car vandalisms, or a sweepstakes clearinghouse with a big check?" That would at least get fewer doors slammed in our faces. Maybe.
"Give me a moment," Bones murmured. He closed his eyes and his aura flared, filling the air with invisible currents. After several seconds, he pointed at the two doors in the far corner without opening his eyes.
"She's in one of those units."
"And you know that because you can somehow use the Force now?" I asked, trying to limit the dubiousness in my tone.
He opened his eyes, tapping the side of his head. "By listening. You're probably tuning everyone's thoughts out, but I'm focusing in on them. A very traumatized woman is behind one of those doors, and I'll wager it's because Kramer just left."
That was what I got for doubting him. Bones was right that I'd pulled my mental shields up high and tight against the barrage of thoughts coming from the apartments, but in doing so, I'd neglected an important tool in finding our target.
"Good thing you're here. That's far too practical to have occurred to me," I added wryly.
He stilled my hand as I was about to knock on the door labeled "B."
"Don't berate yourself. I did the same thing when I first acquired this power, but I've had it much longer, so my response to it has changed. You're not used to it yet, but you will be, then accessing it will be second nature to you also."
Maybe, but it wasn't even my power to begin with. If I stopped drinking from him, that mind-reading ability, like every other borrowed power, would soon be gone. Bleakness briefly threaded through me. In many ways, I was an imposter, my significant strength and skills just the product of a supernatural dietary quirk. Without the capacity to siphon powers through feeding, I probably wouldn't be any more bad-ass than my mother. Would the real Red Reaper please stand up?
Then I pushed those thoughts aside and rapped on the door. I could have my personal identity crisis later, when someone else's life wasn't on the line. If anyone deserved a pity party, it was the woman we were here to collect, and from the muffled sob on the other side of this door, it seemed I was about to meet her.
"Who is it?" a strained voice called out. Can't handle dealing with anyone right now followed on the heels of that, discernible even through my mental barrier.
"We just moved in," I said, trying to sound friendly. "I found this cat wandering around, and I was wondering if you'd recognize who his owner is."
Seemed more plausible than my other ideas considering I was standing here with a cat carrier. The door cracked open, security chain still engaged. Cautious, good for her, but no dead bolt or chain could keep out what was after her. I caught a glimpse of matted blond hair framing a tear-stained face before I held up the carrier, showing her a glimpse of my kitty.
"Wait a second," she mumbled. The door's closing coincided with the slide of the chain being removed. She opened it more fully this time, peering at Helsing.
"Haven't seen him here before," she began.
Emerald blazed forth from Bones's eyes, bright as a traffic light. As quick as she could gasp, she was caught in their depths, mutely stepping back when Bones told her to let us inside.
I closed the door behind us, wincing when I saw the destruction in her apartment. Her couch was overturned, lamps and tables smashed, kitchen cabinets half-torn from their hinges, and multiple pieces of broken dishes littered the floor. Either this was Kramer's work, or she had real issues with her temper.
"Who did this?" Bones asked, still holding her gaze.
Anguish skipped across her expression. "I don't know his name. I can't even see him unless he wants me to."
That was enough confirmation for me, but Bones asked her one more question. "How long has he been coming to you?"
