by Debra Dunbar
“I can’t do this.” She buried her face into the soft fur of his neck. “I’m not a demon, or a werewolf, or anything. I don’t have any magic. They tried and tried, and I couldn’t even manage to do a simple charm. I’m not equipped for chasing down freaky men with glowing eyes that dig up corpses.”
She didn’t seem to be equipped for anything, but especially not this. Taking her phone out of her pocket, she considered her options. Both Wyatt and Amber were out of town. She could call Candy, or Michelle, but it was early in the morning. Everyone was asleep. Almost everyone.
Eric picked up at the first ring. “Hey, I didn’t expect you to still be up.”
Everything came out in a flood. The finger Boomer had brought home, the man with the yellow eyes. Her voice rose in panic, and her English deserted her.
“Hold on, hold on. I can’t understand you. Some man attacked you and Boomer? Where are you? And what’s this about dead people’s fingers in your freezer?”
Nyalla took a deep breath and dug her other hand into Boomer’s warm fur. “I’m at Oak Hill Cemetery in Eldersburg.”
“I’ll be right there.” His take–charge tone reassured her, and she relaxed slightly. “You and Boomer get in the car and lock the doors. Keep your cell phone handy. I’ll be there in ten.”
It was less than ten minutes before Eric pulled up. Nyalla barely waited for him to get out of the car before she was in his arms, reveling at how good it felt to have another human being wrapped around her, rubbing her back and making soothing noises against her hair.
“He was back by the woods,” she said into his shoulder. “There’s dirt everywhere. When I saw him, I ran for the car, but he came after me. I locked myself in the car. He ran off after Boomer attacked him.”
“What in the world are you doing out here at three in the morning walking a dog? And when I told you not to go out to Peaceful Pines, I should have said any cemetery. Or anywhere this time of night.”
She sniffed, burrowing even deeper into his embrace. “Boomer is a night–time dog. I think the word is nocturnal? I didn’t think we’d be out quite this late.”
“Okay, okay.” He gave her a tight squeeze then released her, rubbing his hands down her arms to hold her hands. “Let me get my flashlight, and let’s see what’s back there.”
Boomer followed them out, hackles raised as he scanned the woods. The white beam of light from Eric’s torch skimmed across the grounds, slowing as he noticed the clods of dirt. At the edge of the woods, where Nyalla had seen the shadowy form with the yellow eyes, was a disturbed grave. From the lack of grass, she assumed it to be a fairly recent interment, and the light from Eric’s flashlight confirmed it. Ethel Franklin, deceased last week.
“Whoever it was, you must have interrupted him,” Eric commented. “There’s only a few feet of dirt removed. He didn’t even make it down to the coffin.”
“He was using his hands to dig.” Nyalla pointed to the gouge marks in the ground. “He didn’t have a shovel when I saw him, and he certainly didn’t leave one behind. Plus the dirt doesn’t look like it was dug using any kind of tool.”
Eric frowned. “That’s crazy. Even with a new grave, it would take forever to dig it bare–handed. I can’t imagine someone with the hand strength for that.”
Nyalla remembered the way Boomer had been flung hard enough to knock over a large grave marker and shivered. Whoever this was, he had supernatural strength. Eric’s arm went around her shoulder, squeezing her reassuringly.
“I have to phone this in, and you’ll need to make a statement describing the person. Can you do that? I know you must be tired.”
She nodded. “Don’t forget the finger.” The beam of light swept the ground, as if Eric expected to find it among the dirt and grass. “It’s back at my house.”
“I thought I’d misheard you before. Only about half of what you were saying was in English. What’s this about a finger again?”
Nyalla told him the whole story, gravestone and all. Worry snaked through her as Eric sighed and rubbed a hand through his short, brown hair.
“Great. Just great.”
“Am I in trouble? Is Boomer in trouble?” Her voice wobbled a bit, and he hugged her again. She could see the faint dimple in his cheek even in the moonlight.
“No. And I’m not going to shoot either one of you. Promise me that you’ll stay out of cemeteries until we catch this guy? And you’ll keep that infernal dog of yours on a leash?”
Eric walked her back to the Suburban as he phoned his sergeant. Within fifteen minutes, the cemetery was full of squad cars. A tech scoured the area for footprints and forensic samples, while a detective took Nyalla’s statement. She told them everything and was relieved to see the officer didn’t even bat an eyelid at her description of glowing eyes and a man who tossed Boomer around like he was a rag doll.
“Ma’am, you need to be more careful around here,” he scolded. “It might be safe to wander around the middle of nowhere at this hour in Finland, but it ain’t safe here. Even a big dog like that one can’t protect you if someone’s determined enough, or’s got a gun or something.”
“Yes, I know.” No way she was doing this again. Boomer could jingle those keys at her all he wanted, this was it. She was just a human, with no fighting skills, no magic, nothing. The police were far more able to handle this sort of thing.
Pink streaked the horizon as they finished up. Eric and another officer accompanied her home to retrieve the finger from her freezer. The other officer left with the bagged evidence, but Eric lingered behind.
“What time do you need to be at work?” She felt guilty. It was one thing to keep a man up all night thinking romantic thoughts; it was another dragging him out in the early morning hours to a cemetery.
“Ten.” He grabbed her again, crushing her in his arms as he rained kisses on the side of her head. “Good Lord, Nyalla, when I think what might have happened tonight if Boomer hadn’t come to your rescue… .”
“I’m okay. Boomer’s okay, and you’ll catch the man who’s doing this. Everything will be all right.” It felt weird to be comforting him when she was the one that was always lost and afraid. Maybe this is what humans did — they took turns being strong for each other. “Do you want to crash on the couch and get a little sleep? Or there are guest rooms upstairs. You can sleep in one of them.”
Eric pulled away and looked down at her. “Normally I wouldn’t, but I’m half afraid to leave you alone, even with the sun coming up.”
“Then don’t.” She smiled up at him. “Boomer and I are in the last room on the right. Sleep anywhere you like, and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
He laughed. “Well, I won’t be sleeping where I really want to, but your couch will be fine.”
“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” Nyalla said over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs, every step feeling like it was six–feet high.
“My pleasure.” He meant it, too. She could tell.
8
Spill it, girlfriend. I want to hear all the details about this new man of yours.” Michelle shook her finger for emphasis. Nyalla was running on four hours of sleep, but there was no way she could get out of the post–date lunch with Michelle and Candy.
“Me too,” the werewolf said. “Except not the details. I don’t want to hear the details.”
“He’s very nice. Cute — at least I think so. He took me to a little place in Woodbine for crabs.”
“And?” Michelle pressed, her grin nearly splitting her face in two. “Any sparks fly? Did you kiss him, or did you sic Boomer on him?”
Nyalla felt her face flame. “Yes, I kissed him. I wanted him to come in so I could kiss him some more, and I think he did too, but he said it was too soon.”
“Don’t worry, girl, he’ll be spending the night before you know it.”
“Or not,” Candy added hastily. “No need to rush these things. Spending the night doesn’t have to happen for weeks. Or months. Or years.”
“Oh, he did spend the night.”
Michelle squealed, and Candy choked on her burger. Nyalla handed the werewolf a napkin. “Well, not night, actually. It was more like morning. It was the least I could do after he came out after midnight to rescue me from the monster at the cemetery.”
“What? What?” Candy croaked out, coughing and sputtering into the napkin. Michelle, on the other hand, was stunned into open–mouthed silence. Nyalla thought she better elaborate.
“I’m fine. Boomer is fine too. The horrible creature had left by the time Eric and the police got there. They asked me lots of questions. They seemed confident they would catch it soon.”
“Nyalla, you promised me you wouldn’t go prowling around cemeteries after dark anymore!” Candy looked stern, and there was worry around her eyes.
“I didn’t promise. I’m very careful about what I give my vow on.” Nineteen years with elves and demons would do that to a person. “Besides, Boomer said it was his job to catch this monster, and that he needed my help. And I did — now the police have a description of who’s doing this.”
“Monster?” Michelle frowned. “What kind of monster? Vampire? Demon? Werewolf?”
“Hey!” Candy glared, obviously not wanting to be classified as a “monster”.
The conversation was clearly derailing from a discussion of her date to the incident in the cemetery last night.
“Monster. It was a dirty man with torn clothing and glowing yellow eyes. He was really strong, even though he looked rather sickly. I don’t think he was totally human. I’m so glad it wasn’t Boomer digging up and eating those dead people after all.”
“And he attacked you? What happened?” Candy leaned forward. She’d put her elbows on the table, dangerously close to a spilled blob of mustard.
“I saw him flinging dirt from a grave with his hands, and when he turned toward me, I ran and locked myself in the car. He chased me but ran away after Boomer fought him. Do you think it might be a crazy drug addict, like the police do? Would drugs turn someone’s eyes glowing yellow?”
Candy shook her head. “Not glowing — that’s usually something supernatural. But eyes reflecting light often look like they’re glowing. Green, red, even yellow. People do crazy things under the influence of some drugs. Might be an addict, although I can’t figure out why someone would be digging up graves.”
Michelle took a sip from her soda and looked thoughtful. “I can. There have been cases of grave robbing for profit. People dig up the dead and steal their wedding bands, jewelry, gold teeth and all that. Sane, not–high, people do that, so it’s a possibility that an addict would.”
Candy shuddered. “I can’t imagine a few ounces of gold would be worth digging someone up, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Nyalla shook her head. “But why would someone take a whole body if they just wanted wedding rings and gold teeth? The one man, John Mayfield, is totally missing from his grave.”
It would be bad enough digging up a corpse to steal teeth, but removing the body? Had the monster hauled it somewhere else, or ate it? Nyalla remembered the waxy feel of the body she’d tripped over two nights ago and felt nauseous.
Michelle pursed her lips in thought. “A–couple–hundred years ago people used to steal bodies for medical research, but I doubt that happens anymore. I’ve read of people desecrating graves of enemies — like in a time of war. But that doesn’t seem plausible either.” She hesitated, looking around the diner as if she were afraid to be overheard. “Of course, some do take bodies for magical rites.”
Nyalla caught her breath. She sometimes forgot that humans here practiced magic too. They just weren’t as open about it as back in Hel. “Do you really think a mage might be stealing these bodies? A mage with dirty, torn clothes and glowing yellow eyes?”
Candy waved her hands. “I don’t know anything about witches or sorcerers — I stay away from those things as much as I can; no offense to your Aunt,” she added hastily, looking at Michelle.
“None taken,” Michelle smiled and turned back to Nyalla. “Well, a mage would be dirty if he was digging up corpses. It makes sense that he would need a body if he was doing black magic.”
Black magic. Eric had said he was ruling that out, but he didn’t know what Nyalla knew. There were things in this world most humans were blissfully unaware of.
“How would I know if it were one of these magic users? I have no magical ability of my own, so how could I tell?”
“There’s evidence — a dead chicken left behind, a chalk circle, herbs or talismans. I don’t know much about sorcery, but I do know some religions use human bones for spells.”
Nyalla didn’t know much about sorcery either — only the basic spells that the house mages had done in front of her. A spell requiring a dead body as a component was unnerving to contemplate. As was any religion that would also require corpses. “People really do that? Eric mentioned devil–worship, but said that it was unlikely.”
“Not Satanism, although I’m sure there are one or two people who might go there. Using the dead in magic is still central to some African religions and the Caribbean ones derived from them. Palo Monte uses human bones to help their worshipers communicate with the dead. And Santeria can involve using corpses for spells as well as raising zombies.”
A laugh burst from Nyalla, and she hastily covered her mouth, worried she’d offended Michelle. “Sorry. I just got a vision of zombies from one of Wyatt’s video games. Are there really such things?”
“If you had asked me a few years ago, I would have definitely said ‘no’. But now I have Satan for a business partner, am friends with a werewolf and frequent a nightclub owned by vampires. I’m not so willing to rule it out.”
“A zombie.” Nyalla shivered. “I don’t know what’s worse — someone stealing bodies for black magic, or raising them from the dead.”
Candy nodded. “They both sound equally horrible to me. I suggest you leave this to the police and stay safely away from cemeteries. Especially after dark.”
“But do the police have the knowledge and skills to stop an evil mage or a zombie? Most of them aren’t even aware of the supernatural right under their noses.”
“I don’t know about zombies,” Candy said, patting Nyalla’s hand, “but the police have investigated lots of black–magic practitioners over the years. Most of them were just crackpots, but I’m sure a few of the ones they caught were the real thing.”
Nyalla was skeptical. Maybe the true mages were the ones the FBI didn’t catch. This monster, or mage, was practically in her backyard. She couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Maybe she couldn’t fight the thing, but information was a powerful weapon.
“I really need to figure out what’s happening. Is this a crazy drug user? An evil mage? A zombie? Or something else? I need to know.”
How could she explain to them that she felt so adrift in this world, so lost. She might not know what the monster with the glowing eyes was, but her life surrounded by demons, elves, and magic made it seem the only familiar thing she’d seen in months.
Michelle regarded her sympathetically. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll check with my Aunt Marie and see what she thinks about it. Describe the man to me, and I’ll call her this afternoon.”
“Aunt Marie who put the demon barrier around yours and Wyatt’s houses?” Candy asked. Michelle nodded. “That’s a good idea. She might be a little unusual, but that woman definitely knows her way around the supernatural.”
Nyalla hesitated. She should just let it go. This was a matter for the police to handle, not some young girl fresh from Hel. Even if it was a zombie, what in the world did she expect to do? Still, she was determined to find out what this thing was, and it wouldn’t hurt to have Michelle’s aunt weigh in on the situation.
“The man was very strong, and digging with his bare hands. The suit he was wearing was tattered and dirty, and he had glowing yellow eyes. I outran him to my car, so I don’t think he moved with any ext
raordinary speed. I didn’t hear him speak, although he made a growling noise. I don’t know what he was doing with the corpses. I never saw John Mayfield’s body, but I tripped over one the other night. It was fairly decomposed, but it didn’t look like it had been torn apart or chewed or anything.”
“Well, that does it.” Candy threw her napkin on her plate. “I won’t eat for a week now. And I’m going to worry myself to death over you, girl. Investigate all you want from the safety of Sam’s house, but no more prowling around cemeteries after dark.”
Michelle nodded. “I really think you should stay out of graveyards completely. I’ll let you know when I hear anything from Aunt Marie.”
9
Nyalla spent the rest of the day sunning by the pool and catching up on some much–needed sleep. When the doorbell rang at six o’clock, she skipped to it, sure it was Eric finished with work and paying her a surprise visit. When she opened the door, the figure bore no resemblance to the policeman. On the other side of the threshold stood a large black woman wearing a fuchsia business suit complete with matching purse and shoes.
“Are you here to save my soul?” There had been a pair of young men trying to do just that last week. They’d seemed nice enough at first, but as soon as they’d mentioned the possibility of her returning to Hel she’d panicked and told Boomer to chase them off. No way was she going back to that place, ever.
“You Nyalla, Michelle’s friend?”
The woman glared at her, and Nyalla swallowed hard before nodding.
“You’re pretty young to be carrying that gift. A powerful spirit must think highly of you to endow you with such an ability.”
Nyalla stood frozen, her breath lodged in her throat. Who was this person, and how could she have known what the angel had given her? She’d told no one and used it very rarely. How could this woman have sensed it? Was she a sorcerer skilled in divination?
