A flicker of movement in peripheral monochrome confirmed my sudden fears. “Charles, move!” Not waiting for a response, I hauled the tall magician away from the still-open window, claws bursting from my other hand with a small spray of my own dead blood.
My claws ripped through the air where Maggie’s ghost had been silently reaching out with knife-bladed hands towards Charles’ exposed back—and hit nothing but empty air. She recoiled, hissing, a tiny bundle of rage and rags, a porcelain doll’s face full of teeth filed to points.
The small specter retreated to just outside the window, but no further. I lunged at her, raking at her phantasmal figure...and watched as my claws passed harmlessly through her torso, catching and cutting grooves into the Redgraves’ wooden windowsill. Shit. “Um, Charles?”
I smelled fresh human blood and glanced back to see the wizard hauling himself to his feet, using the tall pastel dresser I’d accidentally thrown him into for support. He wiped at the thin trickle of blood running from his nose, shook his head, and his eyes focused immediately on Maggie’s ghastly specter. “Shit,” he said.
“I know!” I snapped, watching Maggie’s grinning spirit slowly crawl back through the window, radiating menace. “Do something maybe?” I jabbed my claws at her head, through her head, but the only reaction I got was another mild hiss. Dammit! I can’t reach her from here. The specter’s real form was safely Next Door, and I had no way to get there from here. Of course, she didn’t have the same problem. Insubstantial claws scraped hard across my flesh as Maggie grabbed my wrist, leaving white lines where the razor-sharp edges nearly broke my supernaturally tough skin.
With a flick of my wrist, I broke the dead girl’s grip. Charles didn’t respond to my urging, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and tingled. Hopefully, that and the mumbling coming from behind my back meant he had a plan.
“Please…move…” Maggie’s ragged, spectral voice was almost hypnotic, whispering suggestions that slipped into my mind and made themselves seem like good ideas. I gritted my teeth and bulled my way through the insidious instructions, setting my feet firmly between her and Charles. If she wanted him, she’d have to go through me; unfortunately, as a ghost, that was probably a lot easier than I’d like.
What was left of Maggie didn’t try to phase through me or anything though. Instead, she hesitated; once more, she seemed reluctant to actually fight me. But why? What does that mean?
“Margaret Elizabeth Keys!” Charles said the words with authority, his voice reverberating both Here and, I thought, Next Door. He didn’t shout; he didn’t need to. The three simple words got Maggie’s attention, holding her wide-eyed and transfixed, motionless except for the ghostly wind that stirred her floating, rag-cloaked form. “Be. Gone.”
Following on the heels of the command came a great swell of energy, not Here, but just on the other side. I could feel it, even if it didn’t touch me physically. It hit Maggie’s specter like a runaway train, throwing her through the wall and shredding her ragged form to pieces. As she disintegrated, more old, stale blood splattered the window and wall where she passed through them.
Eyes wide, I rushed to the window and peered out, scanning. I saw movement in the monochrome shadows and heard a pair of hidden heartbeats, but no sign of Maggie. Nothing more than a faint howl drifting on the cool night air.
“Holy shit.” I turned back to Charles. “Did you just freaking obliterate her?”
Leaning heavily on his staff, his breath slow but steady, Charles shook his head. “No. Just banished. Like you, I’d have to go Next Door to actually harm her.” That spell seemed to have taken it out of him.
I looked around. Poor little Rena’s room was even more of a mess than it had been when we’d arrived. “So…”
“So we don’t have to wonder any more if this shit’s interconnected,” Charles said what I was wondering.
“You don’t think it’s just coincidence—”
“There are no coincidences,” the wizard repeated his mantra firmly.
A light knock at the door made us both fall silent. The door creaked open and Tamara peeked in. “So, guys,” she said, “you know, I’m doing my damnedest to keep everyone calm downstairs, which is really hard when it sounds like you’re conducting a freaking military op up here in their missing little girl’s room. So, um, what the hell are you doing?”
I shared a glance with Charles.
“Ghost fight,” he said.
“Ghost fight,” I echoed.
Tamara sighed. “Seriously?” Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean that Rena—”
Charles shook his head. “No. Someone else’s ghost. I’ll fill you in later. Go back downstairs.” He turned away and stepped carefully over to the open window.
Tamara narrowed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at his back and slowly retreated. I shrugged apologetically and flashed her a sympathetic smile, and her expression softened. As soon as the door was closed again, I turned back to Charles.
“You realize what’s wrong here,” he stated, looking me in the eyes.
“Um, pretty much everything?” I gestured at the room, but I meant the whole tangled ordeal.
He rolled his eyes. “Ghosts, similar to you and Tamara, can’t come in unless invited.” He stared at me. “Not into a home, anyway.”
I blinked. “So the Redgraves…”
“No, dammit.” He shook his head. “Not the family; Rena.”
There was no breath to catch in my throat, but I nearly gasped anyway. “She was manipulating her. Like with that kid, Rain, back at Sloss.” Charles nodded. “She got in because she asked. Rena let her in.” Like how she tried to get me to stand aside earlier. “But why was she here in the first place, stalking Rena?”
“That’s the million dollar question.” Taking a cloth out of his heavy coat, he started methodically wiping down anything he might have touched for fingerprints. “They said they knew Maggie’s family, and that was definitely her remnant. That’s one connection.”
“Charles…” I’d been dreading admitting this, but I couldn’t avoid it. “I think I was wrong all along.” My stomach sank. “I don’t think the Sanguinarians are behind the kidnappings at all. Not anymore.”
He eyed me. “Because Maggie is obviously involved?”
I nodded. “She even smells like old blood, Charles. I just never…” My shoulders slumped and I trailed off.
He grunted. “And? I didn’t figure it out either.”
“But I misled us, this whole time, and—”
“Did you?” He interrupted gruffly. “If you’ve got this whole thing figured out, please catch me the fuck up.”
“Well, no, but—”
“Look.” He talked over me, eyeing me flatly. “If there are no Sanguinarians involved, why is Salvatore up our ass? Where did Tamara’s little sister go? Who is the tall man in the coat and hat?” He shrugged. “It’s too early to write anything off yet.”
I nodded. He was right, but I wasn’t necessarily wrong, either. At any rate, I felt like trusting my senses, as inhumanly sharp as they could be on things like blood and death, might have been foolish.
I figured we’d find out soon enough.
“Hey, I’m gonna jump out this window,” I commented.
“Okay,” he shrugged.
“See if there’s anything to be seen outside, blood, ghost, or otherwise,” I elaborated.
“Okay.” He shrugged again.
I stepped over to the window and opened it fully, pulling in shadow from my surroundings to cloak my form in a layer of midnight darkness. I glanced back. “Oh. And I was going to ask. Why does everything try to kill you as soon as you get involved?”
Charles shrugged a third time, looking in the general direction of my voice. “I’m popular. And dangerous.” He opened the bedroom door and left.
I left too, via the open window. The drop from the suburban house’s second story didn’t even bend my knees; the shifting shadow enveloping me muffled the sound
to nearly nothing.
My eyes searched the shadows and scanned the yard; I didn’t see any blood or feel any traces of Maggie, save for the light, lingering aura of what I now knew to be her energy, strongest around the outside of Rena’s window. But neither of those things were what I was actually looking for.
A sudden rustling from the hedge across from me caught my attention, and I went completely still. Concentrating, I could hear a pair of heartbeats from just on the other side of the organic fence, too loud to be made by small animals. I smiled, tensed my legs, and leapt completely over the hedge, landing several feet behind it and twisting midair to face whoever was hiding there.
As soon as my dead feet hit the ground, I tossed aside the shadow muffling my form and grinned amicably. “Hey. Whatcha doin’?”
Two teenage boys, one a couple of years older than the other, nearly leapt out of their skins, both of them stumbling into the hedge, the smaller one headfirst. “Holy shit!” Jason exclaimed.
But the older boy recognized me an instant later, and grabbed the back of Rain’s shirt before the younger boy could dig completely through the hedge and pop out the other side. “Hey, hold up, man. It’s her.”
Both were dressed about as I remembered them, plain black T-shirts like before but this time with jogging pants instead of jeans, and both of them with little drawstring bags slung over their shoulders. They were the same mismatched pair: a lanky, stoner-looking delinquent with worn clothes and shaggy, shoulder-length hair, but sharp eyes and the other, a scrawny, fair-skinned boy with little sticks and leaves in his disheveled but neatly trimmed dark hair, and soft, light brown eyes that occasionally glinted amber with the reflection of nearby lights. Once Rain was successfully extracted from the hedge, they both looked at each other, then back at me.
“So.” I broke the ice with a rasp. “Whatcha doin’?” I tried to sound harmless and friendly.
They glanced at each other again, seeming to confer silently before answering. “Watching you, actually,” Rain said with a timid smile.
“Why?” I rasped. That hadn’t been the answer I’d expected.
Again they shared a look that seemed to say more than I could understand.
“Coincidence, mostly,” Rain began nervously. “I mean, we were out, we were just…running around, and we happened by, and…”
Jason nudged him. “We were out getting into trouble,” Rain looked a little guilty at the admission, “and we saw you guys get out of your cars from over there.” He pointed off toward the opposite side of the street. We were curious if something was going on, but we were also hoping to get to talk to you.” He blinked. “Then we saw the ghost! The same one from before! What did you do? Did you guys get it this time?”
I held up a hand, unable to suppress a smile. “One thing at a time. Why were you looking for me?” I shrugged. “Me? I wouldn’t have thought you would want to, after last time.” I grinned, trying not to flash a mouthful of fangs, trying to show them there were no hard feelings.
“Well, actually, about that…” This time it was Rain who nudged his older friend into speaking. “Sorry about us running off, but we kinda needed time to think things over. You know?” Jason sighed. “I was just trying to keep us both safe. We’ve seen vampires before, those bloody ones, and they’re, well…”
“Say no more,” I replied. “Everybody knows they’re bad news. No hard feelings; safety first, and all that.”
They both seemed relieved. “Well, all you did was help us, so you’re golden in my book.” Rain crossed his arms and said it matter-of-factly, as if telling his friend “I told you so.” He looked back at me. “And we really, really do appreciate that last minute save back at Sloss. You just freaked us out a little, is all. Especially Jason.” Jason swatted at him, but Rain ducked out of the way, expecting it—and moving a little faster than a normal human kid should be able to.
“That’s okay. I freak everybody out.” I smiled at the boys. Then I pitched the reason I’d come out here looking for them in the first place.
“So how would you guys like to solve a murder?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
All we needed was a Mystery Machine
I knocked on the Redgraves’ front door again, and Tamara opened it. She didn’t even seem surprised to see me suddenly outside.
“Charles just came down,” she said. “And then went right back upstairs. Did you find anything out here?”
I grinned. “Yeah. Can they come in?”
Tamara leaned to look past me. “Can who come in?”
Jason took one look at Tamara and whistled quietly, his eyes going wide, and grinned at her.
Tamara glanced back at me and I shrugged. I’d been in a similar state of shock the first time I saw her too. “Tamara, this is Rain and Jason, two…” I hesitated, “...friends of mine?” I waited a moment for them to correct me, but Rain just smiled and nodded. “I was wondering if they could come in and look over the scene. If you think the Redgraves won’t mind.”
“I mean, if you think they can help,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Just take them on up. I’ll take care of it.” She shifted to get a better look at the two boys and gave them a warm smile tossing her vibrantly colored hair out of her face. “I’m Tamara, by the way. Nice to meet you and thanks for your help.” She considered for a moment. “Shifters, right? Changelings?”
“Uh, yeah.” Rain blushed as she caught his eyes. “Nice to meet you. And, um—”
Jason, seemingly recovered, stepped smoothly in front of his younger friend and held out a hand to Tamara. “Wow, Tamara? I’m a big fan.”
I glanced over and saw her blink in surprise. “You know her?” I asked.
The young man grinned shamelessly. “Nope! I’m just a really big fan.”
Rain blushed even harder and rolled his eyes. Tamara, however, burst out laughing, letting Jason take her hand and bend over it, giving it a kiss, with her chuckling all the while. Now I had to struggle not to roll my eyes too.
Tamara caught my expression and gave me a feisty smirk and a wink, then turned to saunter back into the living room.
After watching her go, I turned back to the boys. “Come on, it’s upstairs,” I explained, gesturing them that way. “Do I need to invite you before you can come in, or…”
Rain stepped in, looking momentarily confused. “Uh, no? Why would you?”
“Nevermind.” I shook my head and led them upstairs, careful to stay in front so Charles wouldn’t panic at unexpected supernaturals and throw a fireball at their feet or hit them with his stick.
Other than laying out the basic situation—and mentioning murder—I hadn’t told them anything else. I’d come into this whole mess with my own assumptions, and that had cost us a lot. I didn’t want to impose those same assumptions on Rain and Jason. Far better for them to form their own opinions without any of my confirmation bias.
I tapped on the door as I came back into the room. “Hey Charles. I’ve got a surprise for you. Helping hands.”
He glanced up from where he crouched near the bed and blinked once, noting my companions. Catching my eyes, he nodded approvingly. “Huh. Not a bad idea. The more the merrier—if they’ve got the stomach for it.”
“Yeah!” Rain smiled nervously at Charles. “We were, well, in the neighborhood, and…”
Jason shook his head. “Dude, he gets it. We’re here to help.” He gave the room a sober look, his nostrils flaring. “So where do we start?”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Charles slid out of the way where he’d been between them and the missing child’s bed. Rain flinched and paled at the sight, Jason just sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Over here,” Charles said, considering the young duo. “Careful not to touch anything. Police haven’t been here yet, and you don’t want that kind of trouble.”
“And thanks again,” I added.
Jason pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie and cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, well, what kind of assholes
would we be if we didn’t?”
I watched as they moved around the room, often shooting each other looks or even seeming to take cues off one another without even so much as a glance. Meanwhile, Charles drifted over to me and leaned in. “I realized something about the blood after we left.”
“I wondered why you came back up.”
“I think the blood’s a physical sign of her ghost’s manifestation.” He rubbed at his stubbly chin.
I thought about it, realizing how wrong I’d been this whole time. “So it’s not child blood. Not real child blood. She’s making it when she reaches over from Next Door, like the warped burn wounds the Rawhead left on our world.” My eyebrows shot up. “So they may not be dead, or hurt, after all?”
Charles caught my eyes with a sober expression. “I wouldn’t place any bets, Ashley. Whoever took them isn’t throwing them a birthday party.”
He was right. After all, I knew one of the missing children was dead, even if it had happened seven years ago. And it had left such an imprint on her spirit as to turn her into the nightmarish bundle of rags, blades, and scars that haunted us now.
That didn’t bode well for Rena and the others.
“Dude, whatcha got?” Jason called quietly over his shoulder as Rain stepped back from the bed, paling once more and putting a hand over his mouth. I hoped he wasn’t going to be sick and spray incriminating DNA evidence everywhere.
“Ugh. Man, why’d you stick me with the bloodiest spot? Swap with me,” the younger boy replied. He was obviously trying hard to play it cool, but something told me he hadn't been at many potential murder scenes before.
Blood Red Ashes (Dying Ashes Book 2) Page 14
