Shadows in the Mist

by Jeri Westerson

  The car bounced, waking me from my musings. It clattered up the long dirt road and finally pierced the mist to come to the yard, where Doc’s Rambler, Seraphina’s Saab, and Nick’s junker were parked.

  Ed killed the engine and looked at the house through the windshield. “Damnedest thing,” he muttered. “I really felt this hard pull to go in the opposite direction.”

  My grandpa’s house. To me, it was a friendly haven from long ago—a quaint little structure with a porch, curtains in the windows, a gabled roof, and clapboard sides. I had spent childhood summers in Moody Bog that I now barely remembered, thanks to an ancient spell.

  I got out of the car just as Doc came out onto the porch. “Kylie?”

  “I’m here. Let’s go inside. We have a lot to tell you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The coven listened, wide-eyed, to my tale about the Ordo, what they did to us, and how they finally capitulated. All the while, Ed paced from the front door to the hall stairs and back again.

  Then I told them about the ghoul, which seemed to upset everyone.

  “But you wrote it in the book,” said Jolene plaintively.

  “I know. And it exploded like all the other creatures that went back into the Booke. Did I do it wrong? Could I have been mistaken?”

  Doc slowly rose and moved toward the fireplace, where a warm and welcoming fire flickered. “I think you’re ignoring the obvious.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked.

  He leaned an arm on the mantel. “It’s a second ghoul.”

  “A second one? Then how many are there? And how will I know I’m done capturing them? This sounds like a nightmare within a nightmare.”

  Seraphina patted my hand and pulled me down to sit beside her on the sofa. “And what were you saying about Mr. Dark?”

  “Oh, yeah. He and Shabiri disappeared together. After she hinted that he didn’t have to be connected to the Booke.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?” she asked kindly.

  “He…he wouldn’t be around to help me with whatever creature came out of it.” That sounded feeble even to me.

  “True, but he would also no longer be a threat to you.”

  “Remember,” said Nick, “he wouldn’t be tempted to eat your soul. I mean, I assume he wouldn’t be. Right?” He turned to Jolene. She was wearing another of those knitted hats with animal ears.

  “He’d have no reason to. I mean, from what I’ve been studying about demon lore and from what I could find in Karl Waters’ archives on the Booke of the Hidden, it seems to me that a demon who was specifically tied to a thing or an object and then was released would leave in a hot minute.”

  A little breathless, I sat back. Yes, it meant he would leave. That was what I worried about the most. Even though he was pretty handy as a Guardian, WereJeff could do that task now. Jeff could protect me from Andras or even Baphomet and give me time to get rid of them. And then I’d be the only Chosen Host to have survived the Booke. In theory.

  “I’m still trying to figure out how to close it for good,” said Jolene. “There’s a good chance we can figure it out soon. And if we do, then you won’t have to hunt anything down anymore. And it wouldn’t matter if Mr. Dark were here or not.”

  It matters to me, came the little voice in my head.

  “It’ll never happen,” said Jeff. Once more, he was standing in the far corner in the shadows. Maybe it was more than just a side effect of being embarrassed by wolfing. Maybe the wolf wanted to be in the shadows, away from others. A literal “lone wolf.”

  Jeff pushed away from the wall and stepped into a pool of light, which gleamed on the locket hanging from his neck. “I’ve seen the guy’s face. Do you know he hangs on every word you say? He’d never leave you.”

  As much as that thought warmed me, Ed’s next words chilled me again. “But it’s not safe having him around.”

  Then Doc was talking. “Safe or not, we need him. We’re going to have to come up with a way to get rid of Andras. Mr. Dark is the only one who can protect Kylie from him.”

  “I wish Erasmus was here to help right now,” I muttered.

  “And so I am.”

  Everyone gasped at his sudden appearance. I jumped to my feet, my hand balled into a fist. Was I going to punch him? I sure wanted to. “Where the hell have you been?”

  He shook out his leather duster. “I had something to attend to.”

  “No, you don’t get to brush us off.”

  He looked around at our angry faces and raised an arched brow. “I don’t answer to your Wiccans.”

  I grabbed the amulet and shoved it forward. “But you answer to me.”

  He looked around again before grabbing my arm and yanking me toward the kitchen.

  Ed stepped forward and blocked him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Having a conversation with the Chosen Host. So you can step aside…or I will make you.”

  “You and what army?”

  A dark cloud came over Erasmus’ face. When he flicked his hand, Ed slid across the room, as if there were magnets in his shoes, and slammed against the wall.

  “Hey!” I said.

  “You all underestimate me,” said Erasmus with a sneer. “Now I am going to talk to Miss Strange and I suggest you leave us be.”

  “Kylie?” said Doc, concern on his face.

  “It’s okay.” I gestured for him to stay put. “I want to talk to him anyway.” Ed was peeling himself from the wall, rubbing his arm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, seeming more humiliated than injured.

  I grabbed Erasmus’ arm and dragged him to the kitchen. As soon as the door clicked closed, I whirled on him. “Just what the hell was all that?”

  His jacket was smoldering as he paced. “I’m not a plaything. I’m not their guide to all things Netherworld. I am a being! A powerful demon! And I will not be trifled with!”

  “Whoa, whoa. Who’s been trifling with you?”

  He swept his arm toward the kitchen door. “All of them. They talk about me and sneer and use oaths. I am older than the stones they walk upon. I will be treated with respect!”

  “Okay. Um…I don’t think anyone is disputing that.”

  “They do. Your precious Wiccans.”

  “Listen, Erasmus.” I approached him slowly, laying a hand on his arm. It seemed to calm him instantly. “They’re scared. I’m scared. It’s our way—a human thing—to deflect fear by making jokes. We make light of things.”

  “It’s disrespectful,” he muttered grudgingly. “I used to be feared. I was never laughed at.”

  “Well…I’ll talk to them then. But you have to be nicer to them, too.”

  “I will not!”

  I let him go to punch a fist at my hip. “It’s give and take, pal. If you’re rude to them then they’ll be rude right back.”

  He considered it. “Is this part of your twenty-first century?”

  “Yes.”

  “As far as centuries go, I don’t much like it.”

  “Never mind. None of this explains where you were. I called for you and you didn’t come. And you promised you would.”

  The ire on his features softened. “I…I know I did, but sometimes…”

  “You promised. That means always. If you don’t respond to my call, then I think something bad has happened to you.”

  His whole body language changed and his stiffened shoulders drooped. Smoke stopped puffing off of him as he took my hands in his. “I worried you. I’m sorry. I never meant to. There are just some moments, when dealing with others from the Netherworld, that I must…disappear. I needed to talk with Shabiri in a place we couldn’t be overheard.”

  “So you didn’t go to the Netherworld?”

  “No. It is too dangerous for me now.”

  “Then…where did you go?”

  “Somewhere in between. The Place of Waiting.”

  “Place of Waiting? That sounds ominous.”

  “It’s not
pleasant. But I needed to hear what she had to say.”

  I rested back against the counter and lightly crossed my arms, trying and failing to be casual about it. “What did she say?”

  He sighed and walked to the other end of the kitchen, picking up a can opener on the counter and examining it absentmindedly. “She told me I didn’t have to be tied to the book if I didn’t want to be.”

  “And is that true?”

  “I don’t know. She made a compelling argument. But she is also an accomplished liar, as are most demons.” He turned to look at me with a sly smile. “Sorry.”

  “I know who you are, remember?”

  The smile vanished. “Yes.” He turned back to the can opener, touched the sharpened cutting disc, and promptly sliced his finger. A bubble of black blood spilled over his skin. He stared at the blood, curious. But as soon as it started it stopped, the cut vanishing. He set the can opener down on the counter.

  “How can you sever your ties to the Booke, and more importantly, would that help me sever mine?”

  He raised his head again. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Well?”

  “It doesn’t seem likely. I shouldn’t think it would apply to humans.”

  We stared at each from across the kitchen. “Erasmus,” I began quietly. “Lately, I’ve been getting this feeling. I’ve been thinking more and more about the Booke at all hours of the day. I…I feel like I’m drawn to it, like I could get lost in it. Does this always happen to Chosen Hosts? I feel like…I’m losing myself.”

  He took a moment before he spoke, his eyes locked on mine. “Each Chosen Host comes to understand the book in a different manner. But it does draw them in. And eventually, they are consumed by it. It is…the beginning of the end.”

  I licked my lips, suddenly breathless. “We need to close the Booke for good.”

  “I do not have that knowledge. I doubt anyone does.”

  We both knew what would close it.

  His jaw strained as he gritted his teeth. “I will not devour your soul. I already promised that.”

  “You promised to come when I called.”

  “Dammit, Kylie! That is the one thing you must believe of me.”

  “How can I? It’s not just my death that closes the Booke. It’s taking my soul that does it, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t think his brow could furrow any more than it already had. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Have you ever not eaten the soul of the Chosen Host?”

  His shoulders smoldered. “No.”

  “Then you do know.”

  He shook his head in denial, ignoring the unpleasant aspects of his existence that he’d never had to consider before.

  “What if…you weren’t attached to the Booke anymore? What would you do?”

  His eyes lit with possibilities, then dimmed just as quickly. “I won’t leave you to your fate.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He said nothing. And boy, did that silence say a lot.

  I pushed the hurt back. “Tell me what Shabiri said to you.”

  He took a breath. “There were…rituals I could perform. With the help of another demon.”

  “Her. It’s because she wants the Booke. Why? The Booke is also a key. What could she use it for?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, don’t you think you should find out before we’re all destroyed by her shenanigans?”

  He looked to the side, trying to avoid my glare. “There…is something to what you say.” But when he looked up again, he strode right up to me and took my face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Be cautious.”

  He leaned in, but then stopped to gauge my reaction. When it didn’t seem like I’d bite his head off, he tilted in the rest of the way and kissed me. It was a relief to feel his lips again, how warm and soft they were. I wanted to succumb all the way, let his arms engulf me, and fall into the bliss of his mouth. But I couldn’t. Not with everything on my mind. I kissed him back, but not with the ardor I wanted to give.

  He drew away, looking at me skeptically, but he seemed to understand and dropped his hands away. “I will endeavor to discover what might be done with the book. I have my suspicions. I might need the help of the young one.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure Jolene will be happy to assist you. But there will be a price.”

  He frowned. It was his best expression. “And what is that?”

  “She’ll want to know all there is to know about demons.”

  He cracked a smile. No, I was wrong before. This was definitely his best expression. “That, I can pay.”

  “Come on. Let’s get back out there. I’m sure they’re all wondering what happened to us.”

  I pushed open the door, nearly hitting Ed. His face reddened at being caught eavesdropping, but he didn’t apologize. I gave him a knowing nod and rejoined the dead-quiet living room.

  “So, uh, Erasmus is fine, and he’s going to be working with Jolene to figure out the properties of the Booke and why Shabiri seems to want it so badly. Is that okay with you, Jolene?”

  Her mouth hung open. “Lord, honestly?”

  Erasmus stuffed his hands behind his back. “I am prepared to answer as many questions as you can ask.”

  “Holy crow. You’ve got it, Mr. Dark.”

  “I’d be interested in overseeing that,” Doc piped up.

  “You wish to chaperone,” said Erasmus, drawing out the word and managing to make it sound dirty. “Of course.”

  “But in the meantime, I would like to relay a message. Erasmus feels like he’s not being respected, which is true. So we,” I motioned to everyone present, “have to do a better job. In turn, Erasmus has also promised to be more respectful of all of you.” I elbowed him hard. “Isn’t that right, Erasmus?”

  He scanned the group with mild disdain. “That is correct.” He bowed, which seemed to have an effect on Jolene. Not so much the men.

  “Now that that’s out of the way,” I said, “we’ve got a few immediate problems to take care of. There’s still Andras, and Ba—uh, Goat Guy—” Erasmus shook his head wearily. “And the ghoul. It’s back. Or there’s a second one, as Doc suggested.”

  Erasmus snapped his head toward Doc. “A second one? Unusual.” He had a thoughtful look about him.

  “Not what I wanted to hear, but okay. I’ll deal with it. Still. Andras is the biggest thing on my mind.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” said Nick, clutching his beer bottle. “If Andras can be summoned, can’t he somehow be…de-summoned.”

  Doc squinted. “That’s a very interesting thought.”

  “I get what you’re saying,” said Jolene. She looked down at her tablet, swiping, typing. “There are all sorts of summoning rituals, but practically none for ‘de-summoning.’ Probably because once a demon has accomplished the task for which he was summoned, he would presumably just…disappear. I-isn’t that right, Mr. Dark?”

  “Quite. But I have never heard of a…de-summoning ritual.”

  “But I think if we can’t find a ritual,” she went on, “we can just invent one.”

  Erasmus’ mouth curled in a smile. “Yes, of course. You are a very clever mortal. I will help you.”

  Jolene looked like it was her birthday and Christmas all rolled into one.

  I hated to break up the love fest, but I stepped between them nonetheless. “And I was thinking about some sort of weapon. Or maybe a bolt for the crossbow.”

  Seraphina got up from the sofa to stand beside me. “I think Kylie’s got something there. The poisoned arrow. But with the addition of iron and salt. That might work for immediate protection. But I also think that a ritual would be more permanent.”

  “Ay-uh,” said Doc. “Permanent’s what we want. And sending him back in an unconventional conventional way would bind him there, I think.”

  “Then Jolene and Mr. Dark will work on a ritual,” said Seraphina. “And perhaps Kylie and Nick can work
on an arrow.”

  “And I’ll order pizza,” said Jeff, reaching for his phone. “But I guess…I’ll have to pick it up since no one can find this place.”

  Ed had nothing to add.

  * * *

  I could tell Ed felt out of place as we each began to tackle our tasks. This was all new to him, after all. He stood aloof, looking over everyone’s shoulders and pacing back to the window. What he could see in the darkness past the curtains was a mystery to me. There really wasn’t much he could do. And I think he’d hit a brick wall where Dan Parker was concerned. He’d said that Doug wouldn’t admit to it, and by the way the Ordo was acting about the Draugr and what they’d done, I’d be hard-pressed to believe they were capable of that kind of brutality.

  Which meant Ruth. But she couldn’t have done it on her own. And that meant she had help. Human help? Or demon? Or maybe a bit of both. I remembered the faces of the men around her at the Chamber of Commerce get-together. One was a gun dealer, a little smarmy. And the other…

  Doc approached me. “I’ve been working on that pentagram you saw in the church. Because we don’t have a picture of it, I can’t be certain what it might have been for, but the seal at the Dan Parker murder has been easier to identify. I’m fairly certain that this was the one used to summon Andras.”

  “That’s big, Doc,” I said.

  “Yes, but there’s a problem. We don’t know all the sigils that were used on the seal’s hex circle. Dan’s body covered most of it, and his blood covered even more.”

  “But wouldn’t Ed have access to the police photos? The few photos I was able to take were probably not the best. The police must have taken pictures of it without the body.”

  Ed perked up and stepped forward. “I gave those to Doc, all that we had. But even in the photos without Mr. Parker’s body, the blood obscures a lot of it.”

  “Didn’t you clean it off of the seal?”

  “What for? Kylie, the techs went on the assumption that the seal didn’t really matter. There was no need to document every square inch of it. Beyond the chemical samples and type of paint used, that is.”

  I looked at both of them in turn. “Could Mr. Parker have drawn it himself? Or was he done in by Andras?”