Of course, I had no idea if that were really true. This whole thing could end in a bloodbath if we weren't careful. The last thing I wanted was another Halloween massacre on my hands.
William rose and faced us. With my magical eye, I could see the loa coiled like a yellow snake around William's body, controlling him.
Reacting instinctively, I reached out my free hand and slid it between the constricting image and William's chest. I pulled back on it. Resistance from the loa felt elastic—flexible, yet strong. I let go of Sebastian and worked my other hand underneath another section of loa. Surprise kept William from reacting until Sebastian grasped William's wrist, his fingers digging under yellow tendrils, loosening them at the edges. He seemed to be having more success, so I switched tactics to do the same. Besides, this way, we each held one of William's hands, so he couldn't escape or try to strike us.
William's body was also like a conduit for Lilith's power between Sebastian and me. When I realized that, I tried consciously sending a current of white-hot power along the coils of the loa. William twitched violently, but that section of loa sizzled and curled into ash.
Sebastian gave me a smile and sent a bolt back to me. It hit me like a static shock, but there was something kind of pleasurable in it too. I blasted a bit more. Sebastian sent it back. William twitched like he was having a seizure.
Part of me was aware of applause and shouts of, "Cool special effects!"
Then, like a tick under the flame of a match, the loa was forced to retreat. In a sound like a cat in heat, it flung itself off William and howled away into the night.
I nearly fell when William's knees gave way. A quick waist hug from Sebastian kept us both upright.
"Are you okay?" I asked William, despite the fact that his eyes had rolled up into his head and he was clearly unconscious.
"His heartbeat is strong," Sebastian said, putting an ear to William's chest. A woman dressed as an Egyptian pharaoh helped us lower William into a lawn chair that a blue furry bear pulled from my gardening shed. "He's breathing."
"Is he playing or should I call an ambulance?" the bear asked.
"I already called the cops." It was Dominguez. He stopped to expertly check William's vitals and then said in an accusing tone to me, "This party is way out of hand. It's spilled out into the street. Let's just say I wasn't the first complaint, either."
That was just swell.
"Wait," I said, scanning faces. "What happened to Mo?"
Just then I heard a ruckus on the other side of the gate. A series of shrill "yarghs" were followed by painful "ahs!" I could see the flutter of oily wings in the moonlight. The crow had cornered Mo.
As I opened the gate, I noticed long, bright beams of white and red lights in the street. A squad car had come to a halt at the end of the block where the teeming mass of partiers ended. To my chagrin, it looked as though some yahoo had dragged one of the kegs into the middle of the street. Uniforms were headed this way, looking pissed off.
Coming from the other direction was Izzy. The determined look on her face told me nothing about whether she'd come to side with Maureen or me.
I turned to Mo, who was wedged in the space between the wall of my house and the fence. "I should have you arrested."
Her eyes narrowed. "I should turn you into a zombie!"
She reached into a hidden pocket of her dress and pulled something into her fist. Before she could bring it to her face to blow it at me, I called on Lilith to protect me. Just as Mo's lips puckered, a sudden wind lifted the powder from her palm and tossed it back at her. She flinched at the realization of what had happened. Then she spat and tried to rub out the stuff.
I looked around for something to help her wipe with, then noticed the faucet. "Here," I said, as I turned the water on. "Quick."
Izzy came up beside me. She had a plastic cup and some paper napkins she'd wrestled from one of the partiers' hands. "Let me help," she said quietly.
"Of course," I said, sensing she was offering an apology on top of her assistance.
Together, Izzy and I helped Maureen duck down and put her face into the stream of cold water. We were just helping her to her feet when Dominguez came up beside us.
"What exactly is in that powder?" he asked me, watching Mo frantically scrub at her face. Even in the moonlight I could see her face slacken a bit and her eyes dilate.
"Seriously bad drugs," I guessed.
Izzy nodded her head. "Killer drugs."
"Illegal drugs," Dominguez pointed out. "Possession is a charge I can make stick."
Izzy's glanced at me. She wasn't angry, just sad and resolved. To Maureen, she said, "A friend of mine knows a good lawyer," she said. "I'll help you as much as I can."
Dominguez pulled out cuffs I'd hoped he would have left at home for our "date," but then maybe those were his typical accoutrements for romantic outings. Gently, he took Mo's wrists. "I'm arresting you for possession of illegal substances," he said.
"You'll have to prove it," she slurred.
"That's the function of the American justice system, ma'am."
Before leading Mo in the direction of the uniforms, Dominguez turned back to me. He landed a quick, light kiss on my stunned lips, and said, "You'll always have a friend in the FBI, Ms. Lacey."
"Garnet," I insisted with a smile.
"Garnet," he said finally.
* * * *
The party broke up immediately following Mo's arrest. Dominguez rounded up the remaining zombies as material witnesses to the drug charges, and I think my downstairs neighbors got hauled in for possession, as well. Sebastian and I spent the rest of the night cleaning up, although to my amazement a few of Parrish's loyal ghouls stayed to help, including Adrian, who slipped Sebastian a business card on his way out the door.
"I'd be very jealous if you started dating him," I said.
Sebastian eyed the card for a moment before setting it down on my bookshelf. "He's quite attractive," Sebastian said wistfully. "But not my type on so many levels. For instance, he didn't really seem terribly… shall we say, intellectual."
"You prefer your food smart?"
"At least enough to be discrete."
Sebastian had a point there. I plunked myself down on my couch, which was decidedly smellier postparty. We both looked at Parrish's coffin. "Do you suppose he's awake?"
Sebastian shook his head. "He took several bullets. He's regenerating."
I rubbed my eyes and found them a little moist. I didn't even know what I would say to Parrish other than, "Helluva a party, eh?" Still, I missed not being able to debrief with him, to laugh at it all.
"You want to tell him something? I could leave," Sebastian offered.
"No," I said. "Stay."
Sebastian sat on the couch beside me, and I laid my head against his shoulder. Barney slunk out from under the couch and sniffed around the floor of the dining-room table. I heard a crunch as she found something she liked.
Outside, the moon was setting. It was bloated from the atmosphere and low on the horizon.
"There was almost no moon in the sky last year," I remarked. Then, I found myself talking and talking, telling Sebastian everything about that night.
He stroked my hair and listened.
When I'd talked myself out, I stood up. "There's one more thing I want to do."
Sebastian followed me upstairs. I took Jasmine's broken necklace from the altar and slipped it into my pocket. Together, we walked outside into the predawn. All Soul's Day. The Day of the Dead.
I made my way to the lakeshore. Birds chirped as the sky lightened. Dew clung to the rusty playground equipment, and the smell of dead fish permeated the air. I pulled the prayer beads from my pocket, letting my fingers caress the pearl and amethyst one last time. Then, I handed them to Sebastian. When he looked at me questioningly, I said, pointing to the pond scum and floating bits of food wrappers, "I can't toss it far enough. It needs to go into the heart of the lake."
Sebastian kissed the beads
in my hand and then took them from me. After a brief baseball wind up, he let them fly. They soared into the air. A flash of silver in the dawn, and then they dropped with a distant splash into the dark water.
I cried all the way home, but they were the tears of letting go.
* * * *
The next day, we buried Parrish.
Sebastian hired a hearse, which drove us slowly out of town. I resented fluffy, white cotton-candy clouds and brilliant blue sky. It should be raining, or at least overcast. Morning commuters on the highway were oblivious to death in their midst.
An egret stood like a white ghost in a drainage ditch, taking flight with slow, graceful strokes of its giant wings as we passed. Sebastian squeezed my hand. "I need to tell you," he said quietly. "I didn't buy a marker."
"What?"
"For Parrish's grave," Sebastian said. "I didn't know his dates, and, well, given the circumstances I didn't want things to be, you know, too permanent."
The driver glanced in the rearview.
"An unmarked grave?" I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that, despite the fact that seeing Parrish's name carved in stone would have given me a similar heart attack.
Sebastian frowned in the direction of the driver's seat. "Well, it's not like it's his final resting place," Sebastian murmured between tightly pressed lips. "We can get one later," he suggested. "If he decides to stay."
Speaking of that, "How long do you think he'll… ?" The driver looked about ready to explode with curiosity so I didn't want to be too specific.
Sebastian shrugged. "I once lost an entire century sleeping it off in Peru. Once you're in the ground, as it were, it's easy to stay."
Just when I stared to suspect that the driver was taking the scenic route to hear what other strange things Sebastian and I might say, we turned into the graveyard. Undertakers had dug a hole and set up the coffin elevator. The driver stopped at the entryway of the cemetery, which was not much more than a worn spot on the grass. "Are the other pallbearers coming separately?" he asked.
"No, it's just the two of us," Sebastian said.
The driver lost all composure. "No way," he said. "How are you going to get him over there?"
"Magic," I smiled. I was wearing one of my ritual dresses, the white one. It was nothing more than a simply cut tunic with some lace, but I also had on a large silver pentacle necklace. Sebastian wore last night's suit. I was sure we looked like complete nutjobs to this guy.
Having schlepped Parrish up and down the stairs of my apartment, Sebastian and I had a pretty good system. He took the heavier front end, and bore nearly all the weight. I took up the opposite side rear and acted as navigator. We looked a little like we were hauling furniture instead of a corpse, but, hey, it worked.
After getting Parrish onto the grave elevator thingie, Sebastian lowered him into the ground without any ceremony. The undertakers and the driver looked a little shocked when we insisted they pack up their stuff and leave us alone. As I watched them remove the equipment, Sebastian brought me a cup of coffee from his kitchen. It was my favorite Las Vegas mug.
When they finished, Sebastian slipped everyone a few extra Benjamins and they drove away stunned, but well compensated.
"Okay," Sebastian said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. "He's all yours."
I handed back the mug and rubbed my hands together to drive off the chill. I had no candles, no sacred tools, other than a shovel the undertaker had left behind. No matter. I took in a deep breath and centered myself. I listened to the sound of the tall, dry grass rustle, and watched as a flock of juncos flitted across the barren cornfield, white flashing at the fork of their tails.
If Parrish were really dead, I'd have done some kind of passing-over ritual. Instead, as I walked a circle around the open grave, I concentrated on thoughts of protection and healing. I envisioned the circle as a birch grove, interwoven with grapevines, heavy with fruit. No guardians, except for one spirit to stand over him, a warrior Goddess with snakes on her shield shedding their skin.
Returning to the place I started, I picked up a handful of dirt. Sandstone and rich farm loam sifted together in my palm. I gave it a toss, and it landed with a hollow spatter on Parrish's coffin. "Let the earth heal and protect you," I said. "Rise from Her womb whole and healthy."
Picking a few stones from the pile, I placed them at the quarters as wards. Then, I opened the circle by retracing my steps, counterclockwise. I imagined the birches and vines being absorbed into the ground, returning to seed.
After blowing Parrish a final kiss, I walked across the driveway for breakfast.
* * * *
I spent the day reconnecting with Sebastian. We read our favorite sections of the paper while stretched out on either ends of the couch. Of course, Sebastian and I combined were longer than the whole sofa, so our legs entwined. It was comfortable and familiar.
"Did you get fired?" I asked him after finishing an article about a local spelling bee champion. "You hardly even pretend to go to work anymore."
Sebastian set aside the business section. "I go in when they have a car I'm interested in," he said casually, like most mechanics had such a laissez-faire attitude toward their schedules and paychecks. "I've become the resident specialist in classic English cars."
"Nice for some," I teased.
Sebastian smiled. "It is, actually. This way I have more time for the important things." Under the cover, his toe rubbed affectionately against my side. "Good thing too," his voice was full of faux exasperation, as he flipped his paper open again with a snap. "Since you're constantly in the middle of some crisis or another."
"You make me sound like a drama queen."
He peeked around the edge of the stock listings. "You're not?"
I shot him the why-I-oughta squint and then grabbed his paper in mock indignation. We wrestled. I giggled. He kissed me. I tickled him. He nipped my ear. The newspaper crinkled noisily as I pressed my arms around his shoulders.
"You love me like this," I told him, kissing him lightly.
"You know I do," he agreed, returning my kiss with more passion.
I propped myself up on my elbows. I felt his body stretched out beneath mine. "I've come to an important realization," I said seriously, though I had fond smile on my lips.
Amusement glittered in the golden starburst around his chestnut brown eyes. "I can hardly wait to hear these pearls of wisdom."
"Love isn't meant to be hoarded," I said. "It has a kind of half-life. Not like a Twinkie. You can't leave love on a shelf and expect it to be sweet forever."
Sebastian's fingers tapped where they rested against my back. "Let me get this straight. Your big revelation is that love isn't a plastic-wrapped artificial pastry?"
"Precisely," I told him. "Love is something you need to eat right away."
His eyebrows rose suggestively. "Now there's a philosophy I can get behind."
* * * *
After copious amounts of tickling and giggling, Sebastian chased me upstairs to the bedroom after informing me all good theories needed lots of field-testing.
The bedroom was sunny. Lace curtains glowed yellow, and bright patches shown on the purple feather comforter. Despite the cold outside, the room was comfortably warm. We undressed slowly, taking time to remember each freckle and birthmark.
I kissed Sebastian's hair. His lips brushed my cheek. With each touch, I felt my response heightened by his. With each slow stroke of fingertip across naked skin, something thrummed deep inside.
Sebastian's hands caressed my breasts and nipples. Echoes of the pleasure he felt touching me accented the sense of his palms on my body. It was hard to even concentrate. My attempts to breathe ended as moans.
Then it was my turn. I peppered Sebastian's shoulders and chest with feather-light kisses. I felt him tremble beneath my lips, but also inside my own chest. As my kisses moved lower and lower, his response swelled between us, inside me.
I didn't have to ask for what I wanted; Sebastian knew. S
witching places, Sebastian's tongue stroked between my thighs. A nip here and there caught me by surprise and made me yelp with delight. Then, when I was ready, he entered me, strong and steady.
We moved in perfect harmony, each anticipating the other's satisfaction. My pleasure rose with his, and vice versa. We climaxed together in a hot, exhausting rush.
Panting and slick with sweat I smiled into Sebastian's face. "I missed you," I said.
He returned my broad grin. "Go again?"
And how could I resist such a romantic request?
* * * *
Sometime after midnight we fell asleep pleasantly, bone-achingly exhausted and tangled up in each other. Though I should have slept soundly after so much exercise, I had strange and restless dreams. At one point, I thought I woke up to see Parrish standing over our bed, silently watching me in the darkness. Except, I knew it must be a dream, because Benjamin the attack ghost would never let him in Sebastian's house uninvited, and, even more telling, he was wearing one of Sebastian's "McGovern for President" T-shirts. Parrish would rather be well and truly dead than be caught in anything so square.
"Daniel," I murmured at the apparition.
He leaned over and kissed me, tasting of cobwebs and freshly turned dirt.
"Nice shirt," I teased, clumsily flashing him the peace sign.
The second kiss was more pleasant than the first and lulled me back into less disturbing dreams. Though I had one of those moments where you wish you had better control over your subconscious so you could spend the night replaying those kisses.
In fact, I kept feeling the cool brush of Parrish's lips as I sipped coffee in Sebastian's kitchen. When Sebastian started singing along to a Hank Williams song, I headed out the back door to "stretch my legs."
I got as far as the driveway before I noticed the caved-in section of the cemetery. Someone, probably one of Parrish's ghouls, had dug out a coffin-sized hole. I would have panicked, thinking someone had run off with his body, but remembering the dream, I knew.
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