Sisters and Graves: A Rue Hallow Mystery (The Rue Hallow Mysteries Book 4)

by Amanda A. Allen

  “Yes,” I said wearily.

  “We’re coming for you,” Felix said, cutting off whatever Jessie was going to say.

  “I’m going to be most of the way there before you reach me,” I said and then yawned a painful, jerking yawn. As I did, I discovered bruises on my body I hadn’t noticed before. I should not be yawning after that energy potion.

  “We’re coming anyway,” he said firmly.

  “Kay,” I replied and blinked several times to sort out the glowing halos of head lights, tail lights, and street lights.

  There was silence for a moment before Cyrus said, “She’s being too nice. She's really hurt.”

  I snorted. Yeah. I hurt in my head, my heart, my body, and the pulsating pain of my bite with its haunting infection was the worst.

  “We have to make a stop,” Jessie said, “And then we’ll meet you.”

  “You do know,” I said wearily, “that I have our only car?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Felix said. “Just answer when we call again.”

  I nodded, remembered they couldn’t see me, and said I would. They hung up and I let my phone fall to my lap and focused on the road, hoping I didn’t kill my sister and myself but knowing it was too dangerous to stay and let them get us. Not with that bite and those bindings on my poor, haunted, sad sister.

  Chapter 9

  I didn’t remember the drive. I know that’s bad. I thanked Hermes, god of travel, that Bran and I survived. My phone buzzed some incalculable time later, and it took me two phone calls to answer.

  “We’re behind you, Rue,” Chrysie said. Her voice took a minute or two to register. I blinked stupidly and kept driving.

  “Pull over, Rue,” Felix ordered, and his voice seemed to register more easily in my brain.

  “Oh,” I replied. My eyes burned, my body hurt, my wounds had sort of spread across all of me leaving me just one, aching mass. “Ok.”

  The car rolled to a long, slow stop and as it did, Felix opened the driver’s door.

  “What in the hells, Rue?” Finn snapped as he stepped up behind Felix. “You shouldn’t be driving.”

  “Bran needs help,” I said tiredly and pulled myself out of the wagon.

  “Could you be more irresponsible?” Finn took my arm where I’d been bitten and I gasped.

  Felix shoved Finn off as Chrysie told him, “Back down Finn.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her, but she’s not meaning to hurt us, is she? Where’s the talisman? How long are we going to let her family leave us in danger? It’s their fault that we don’t have a keeper. It’s their fault that we have a cursed haunt in our town. It’s their fault. All. Of. It.”

  He thrust his hands into his hair as he yelled, probably to keep them from grabbing me and shaking me.

  “Back down,” Jessie shouted, pushing between Finn and me and shoving Finn back. “Back down. This isn’t the time.”

  “It’s never the time. There’s a ghost hunting at the Old Cemetery. Is she out there? No! But she’s keeping the talisman.”

  “That isn’t her,” Jessie said. “I’m sorry for what happened to that girl, but that wasn’t Rue who hurt that kid.”

  “It’s never Rue or her family, is it?” Finn shouted.

  “Enough,” Dr. Hallow yelled. I hadn’t even noticed him. “Let’s just get back to St. Angelus and help these girls.”

  I wanted to yell too. But gods, I was just too tired.

  “Rue,” Felix said, “You look terrible.”

  “Who me?” I tried to joke and failed since I lost my balance and stumbled forward. Finn’s curse had me standing upright and facing him, though I wavered. “Can we save the battle for when I’m not so beat down? Cause I’ll take you down another day, Captain Finny.”

  “You’re my favorite, Rue,” Cyrus said as Felix opened the back door of the wagon and stared down at Bran. She’d woken up and was sort of lathering and cursing.

  “It gets kind of melodic,” I told Felix as Bran moaned, “Hungry.”

  Felix nodded and then looked through his bag and pulled out his scarf. “Gag?”

  “She’s going to make you pay for that,” I told Felix as I took it from him.

  “Rue,” Dr. Hallow said gently, and my throat went dry. “There isn’t anything that can be done for someone cursed with a haunting.”

  That couldn’t… No… Gods… No. He was WRONG.

  “I can’t accept that,” I told Dr. Hallow firmly while I was dying inside at the thought of losing my sister. My mother…that…that…she must have known, and she left me to find out. I focused on my mother because I couldn’t, wouldn’t consider the alternative.

  “You don’t have a choice,” Finn said. But he said it softly too like he was trying to be kind and wasn’t quite sure how. I met his gaze, his movie star handsome, perfect gaze and snarled.

  “I don’t accept that.”

  “You can’t change the truth,” he snapped, losing track of his gentleness.

  I bit my lip until it hurt and provided a thread of clarity and then I said, “Go to Hades, Finny. And quit showing up in my life.”

  Chrysie took Finn by the arm and dragged him away while Felix and I turned back to my sister.

  Felix showed me two pairs of cuffs—one larger and I assumed for her ankles.

  “Jessie and Martha working together are capable of untold depths,” Felix said as he handed me the ankle cuffs. They weren’t handcuffs but wide bracelet and ankle cuffs. From what I could see they were etched in runes to bind the haunt back. It wouldn’t work forever. But it should work for a while.

  “Careful,” I told him as Bran snapped her teeth at Felix.

  “‘Lixy,” she asked, and her voice was her voice. My head snapped up and I stepped towards her, but Felix held me back.

  “Lixxxxyyyyy,” she growled, and the haunt was back.

  Dr. Hallow and Jessie doctored me up and then Felix helped me into the backseat with him. Cyrus and Jessie got into the front seats while Chrysie joined Dr. Hallow and Finn in his vehicle.

  “You’re gonna be fine,” Felix said. “Good even. There has to be something we can do for Bran.”

  He handed me a thermos and I took it gratefully, letting the warm liquid flow over my tongue and prayed the caffeine would hit me quickly. Instead, lethargy hit me full force.

  “What?”

  “Sleep,” Felix said softly and my head dropped onto his shoulder.

  “Ok,” I said softly, too compliantly, very, very serumed up, “You jerk.”

  * * * * *

  I would have expected my only thought to be of Bran when I woke up, but it wasn’t. It was of our poor Daddy. He’d lost this lifetime love he’d been so proud of. Bran and I had both left home, and I already knew that neither of us would ever return. What was left for him? And then to lose Bran the rest of the way…and just who was her family? Why hadn’t she answered any questions about them?

  I didn’t go after my sister like she deserved. I didn’t make sure she was ok. I didn’t call Daddy and tell him we’d made our way home. I didn’t find my coven and find the state of things. I left them all to themselves and hobbled to the bathroom instead. My bathroom was nothing less than ridiculous and that puritan shame I’d felt every time I had used it before was absolutely absent this time. I slid into water deep enough to swim in and sank as low as I could, letting the water work into me. The heat was much higher than usual. It was one breath from burning. The fan overhead was sending down a perfect breeze as my muscles relaxed.

  My bite wound was burning. They had done what they could for it after doping me like they did. I could do better. I washed, let the water swirl clean, and then washed again. I felt contaminated. But, of course, I was. I’d have to figure out that bite. I didn’t need to talk to someone better at curses and necromancy or whatever this was than me to know that I was in danger.

  As delightful as the water was, I needed to get back to my sister and things. I had classes even. Maybe. Depending on how long
the sleep potion they’d given me had kept me asleep. I was going to flunk out of college, given the last few months.

  Maybe—since the Hallow Family Council—seemed to run the school, I could finagle my way into another chance. I had no idea. Right then, I didn’t care beyond the random thought of it. I went to my potions cabinet and rustled through it until I found a potion I hadn’t used in a while—consecrated water. I took it back to my bathroom and poured it over the bite on my arm.

  I thought I was crossing a simple precaution off of my list. But it burned. Well, I told myself, if you wondered whether you were infected with this curse—the answer is yes. I renewed the containment runes on my arm, hoping they would work and weren’t a waste of time and power and finally dressed.

  “Martha,” I said, speaking to my house, “Please show me the way to Bran.”

  I don’t know what I expected. I don’t know what I would have done, but Martha’s little fairy light led me down the main stairs, to the back of the house, and down the second set of basement stairs.

  Martha was a mansion. It was one of those jaw-dropping, you can’t believe anyone actually lived in that type of place, places. Even with that being true, the pool in the basement, which came across as a sort of marble and column grotto, was shocking. Even other people who lived in extravagant homes would pause.

  Inside the pool room, a pentacle had been drawn on the floor. A second pentacle had been placed outside of the first and spelled candles were at each of the points of the inner pentacle. Inside of that, my sister Bran was tied to a chair.

  “Finally,” she said in a withering, I-will-make-you-pay voice. “Oh my gods, Rue, your face.”

  “Hello,” I said as I circled the spells, examining what they had done. “We fought. You were winning. I used magic.”

  Bran’s mouth opened and closed several times before she took a deep breath, pressed her lips together for a moment and then shrugged it off.

  “Let me out,” Bran ordered. And it was her. I could hear that edge of panic in her voice that told me she hated being confined. Something I knew too well already. Her expression was steely, but her gaze darted around and around, looking for escape.

  “Yeah,” I said, stepping forward.

  Chrysie gently laid her hand on me as she said, “You can’t let her out. She’s haunted.”

  “Not now,” Bran snarled.

  “She’s going to keep losing time,” Chrysie said. “Until she doesn’t come back.”

  I turned to Chrysie and considered. She was our cousin. But she couldn’t be more different. Even as a vampire, she exuded a sweetness that belied the fact that she lived off a blood-based potion. She’d been stolen by a dark witch to fuel her spells and still Chrysie was gentle and sweet.

  “I’m going to fix her,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Bran added, but I heard the panic in her voice. I suspected that she knew what had been done to her and her prognosis given her reaction. I turned to face my sister and she looked away first. Yes. She knew exactly what had been done to her.

  “You….” I started but stopped.

  “Don’t do that,” Bran said, gaze narrow.

  “Do what?” Chrysie asked gently.

  “Stop yourself because you don’t want the last thing you say to me to be mean.”

  “It won’t, you stupid snake, be the last thing I say to you,” I yelled. “I am going to fix this and then I am going to make you pay for not telling me right away and giving me more time to help you.”

  Her breath jerked and her gaze met mine. She didn’t have much hope, but there was a glimmer there.

  “I can’t survive without you, Bran,” I told her honestly. “I will do whatever it takes to help you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Chrysie said. “Since I’ve been stuck down here with your sister.”

  “You’re stuck?” Bran demanded. “You! I am tied to a chair!”

  Chrysie smiled sweetly at Bran and said, “Someone cursed whatever you went after on your hunt, right?”

  “Obviously,” Bran snapped. “It was linked to the opening of the treasure.”

  “Did you say treasure, Captain Jack?” I asked.

  My sister and Chrysie ignored me.

  “Sooooooo,” Chrysie said. “Someone, somewhen knew how to manipulate the haunt. To bind it to that lock. We need to figure out how to do that, and then do it too. Bind it to something other than Bran.”

  I paused on that comment and said, “You…brilliant angel. By Hecate and Hestia, Chrysie. You could be onto something.”

  Bran sighed and said, “Listen, I don’t want to sound like a downer, but do you have the book of ancient magic used by pirates? Because last I checked around, no one does.”

  “We are going to fix this Bran.”

  “I am tied to a chair inside of a double pentacle. I don’t have a lot of faith in that right now.”

  “Cry me a river,” I said. “If you had said something when you showed up, maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

  The door to the pool room opened and Felix came in, “You have a phone call from a Hiro.”

  Bran and I met gazes and then I said, “I can’t right now, Felix.”

  “You also have a message from the Hallow Family Council. They want you to come to their offices.”

  “Yeah right,” I said. “We need to find some ancient magic books about haunts.”

  “Do you even know the difference between ghosts and haunts and possessions,” Felix asked gently.

  “No,” I said. I had just missed my Necromancy 101 class. I didn’t know jack about death magic.

  “I hate to say this, Rue, but I suspect the Hallow Family Council probably does.”

  I paused and then met his gaze. He looked sorry for me, and I was sorry for myself. The Hallow Family Council and I were not congenial. In fact, when they weren’t trying to order me around or manipulate me, they were shaming me. Given that they were cousins and related to me, you’d think they would be allies. But they weren’t even close.

  “Well hells, Felix. You might be right.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Chrysie offered.

  “I’ll stay with Bran,” Felix said. “You might want to do something about your face before you go.”

  “Damn it, Bran. When this is over, you’ll be paying for making me ask them for help AND for my black eye.”

  “I think you mean,” Bran said casually, although I could see the guilt in her eyes, “Your black eye, fat lips, and that bruise on your cheek.”

  Chapter 10

  The Hallow Family Council consisted of thirteen witches. They were mostly related to me, but not all. They ran the school board, the mayor’s office, they ran—everything. They also held the trust for Hallow House even though I was the owner. Until I graduated from school or turned 25…OR became the Keeper of St. Angelus, they had my inheritance.

  They weren’t happy about that one little bit—as in, they didn’t want to turn the money back over to me. I also would automatically gain a seat on the school board and family council. It was all legal—but witch style. Think feudal lord in some ways and me be the very unwanted heir.

  The thing they might hate the most about me was that I didn’t want to be the Keeper of St. Angelus. For some backward reason, they didn’t seem to like that I didn’t want to be the keeper EVEN though they didn’t want me to be the keeper either. I guess they didn’t like me snubbing their little club.

  But then again, I imagine the money from my family was pretty great. I don’t know. I had no idea how much access to it they had. Or how much of it there was. A member of the Presidium told me not to worry about it and I had enough to think about before I let that bother me.

  The council had three leadership positions and one clear overall leader. The big three were Dr. Martin Hallow, Portia Hallow, and Leander Hallow. I liked them in that order though I didn’t trust any of them very far. The one I liked the least, Leander, was the head of the council as well as the may
or.

  Dr. Martin Hallow worked at the school and I kind of liked him. Portia Hallow was snobby, rude, and reliable. She ran the witch healing clinic and she was a good witch. They all were, in fact. But that didn’t mean that they liked me. Except for Portia, most of the council didn’t respect regular magic which was my specialty. They didn’t like that my mother, Autumn, had left the inheritance, disappeared into the wind, and locked them out of Hallow House. But if she hadn’t, there was no way that Leander Hallow wouldn't have been living in it.

  I didn’t care about any of that or them. I had gone to St. Angelus because I had gotten a scholarship, not knowing I was even a Hallow. I had never been trained in Necromancy and had barely discovered I had the ability at all. But my scholarship had come—not because I was an excellent witch—but because of my blood. If I had known…I wouldn’t have come. I would have gone to another school and never cared that I was the eldest of the eldest of the eldest of the Hallow line.

  I didn’t regret what happened. There was a part of me who looked at it as fate and a part of me who blamed my mother and her endless manipulation. But…pre-Hallow House Rue, pre-friends with Felix and Chrysie Rue, pre-this college Rue would never have let this be her life. Now that I was here…I loved Hallow House, and you could practice witchcraft and brew potions anywhere. This was my home now. I was making a life here, and I knew that I would never consider anywhere else home again.

  None of that changed my feelings about the Hallow Family Council.

  As far as I could tell, my mother had the widest dash of snake in her. BUT, they were all part-snake and untrustworthy to one extent or another.

  “Rue, thank you for coming,” Leander Hallow said. He leaned back in his maroon, plush chair and stared down at me over steepled fingers. If I hadn’t been so sick about Bran, I’d have giggled. “We’re sorry to hear about your sister.”

  “I need help,” I said evenly.

  “Perhaps we can effect an exchange,” Leander said. His pointed beard, piercing eyes, and aura of authority made me want to mock him. Demanded it, but I couldn’t. Not with Branka needing so much help.