As I returned to the table, I reached for my phone and texted Ember. angel seemed a little distracted this evening. she’s on the way home. keep an eye on her and let me know if she acts…oddly.
Ember quickly returned my text. will do. can’t think of what might be going on. but thanks for the heads-up.
Trying to ignore Angel’s odd behavior, I cleared the table and Kipa helped me do the dishes. After we were done, he wrapped his arm around me and walked me to the living room.
“I need your help, Raven. I’m hoping you’ll be able to give me some advice,” he said.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s one of my wolves. Gunnar’s wasting away, and I think that he might be under attack by a ghost.” He settled on the sofa, and I sat beside him. Raj joined us, sprawling near my feet.
I let out a long breath. Ghosts again. But that was my line of trade.
“All right,” I said. “Tell me what’s happening. And why you think Gunnar’s being attacked.” As Kipa started in with his story, I tried to tune out the odd events of the day and focus on what he was saying, but a part of me kept thinking about Buck, and just what he might try to pull next.
Chapter Seven
“Gunnar is one of my Elitvartijat, my squad of elite guards. They run beside me, four to ten of them at any time when I’m traveling, and they belong to my chosen people.”
I’d never heard Kipa talk about having a chosen people. I knew he was accompanied by four wolves, at least, whenever he traveled through the woods, but I wasn’t sure whether they were shifters or just massive wolves who answered to their lord.
“Elitvartijat? Who are they? Wolf shifters?”
He nodded. “Yes, but they’re more than that. The SuVahta are my chosen people. They’re a branch of wolf shifters who hail from the elemental realm of snow and ice. They’re almost part elemental in nature, when it comes down to it. They can command storms, and they also wield earth magic to a degree. They’re divine in their own right, though not gods. The SuVahta answer to me, and the Elitvartijat are chosen from them.”
“So we’re talking amped-up wolf shifters. What’s going on with Gunnar?”
“He seems to be having hallucinations. He calls them phantoms. He’s also been losing weight. He can’t eat and he’s not sleeping well. Whether it’s due to the stress or some magical reason, I’m not certain. But the fact is, he’s fading, Raven, and nothing that my healers have done seem to help him. I’d contact Tapio—the Lord of the Forest over in Finland, who’s also connected with the wolves—but let’s just say, last time I was there, he kicked me out with an express warning to stay away.”
I narrowed my eyes. “All right, ’fess up. What did you do?”
“What do you mean—” He paused, then stopped. Laughing, he said, “Who am I kidding? You know me well enough by now to know there’s usually a reason I get kicked out of places. So, the facts are…well…I may have tried to put the make on his wife—Mielikki.”
I groaned, shaking my head. “Right. What did you do?”
He shrugged. “Just…grabbed her ass. Don’t worry, though. I learned my lesson. Mielikki not only gave me a black eye, but for a month after that, I peed red, and boy, did that burn. But Tapio was furious and both of them ordered me to leave.”
“So you can’t go back to them for help?”
He shook his head. “I worked with Mielikki’s Arrow, which is like the Wild Hunt. That little escapade got me kicked off the team.”
“Have you tried asking Cernunnos for help?” It was just a thought, but Kipa shook his head.
“No, I’d rather wait until I’ve exhausted all other possibilities. But I can’t wait much longer or Gunnar won’t make it. Will you take a look at him? You should be able to tell if he’s being haunted or possessed or whatever might be going on.”
I nodded, though it didn’t sound like a typical haunting to me. “All right. Come by tomorrow night. Around six?”
“Thank you, love. I can’t get hold of Gunnar till tomorrow morning, anyway.” He let out a long sigh, then pulled me toward him. “Until then…”
“Until then, you can come over here and kiss me.” I slowly licked my lips.
Without another word, Kipa swept me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom.
Sunday morning, I woke up to a red rose on the pillow next to me. I sat up, looking for Kipa, but he was nowhere to be seen. But Raj was sitting on the floor beside the bed, looking like he’d just inhaled some joy juice.
“Kipa fed Raj. Kipa fed Raj three cans of cat food.” Raj grinned at me. “Maybe Kipa is okay, after all. Raj think about it.” He turned and lumbered off.
“Three cans? I only feed you one!” I pushed back the covers, swinging my legs over the bed. I was naked but I didn’t care. Raj never noticed whether I was clothed or not. It just didn’t seem to register with him. The floor, however, was cold on my feet, and I quickly looked around for a pair of slippers.
“Kipa says Raj is a big boy and needs more food. Raj agrees.” The gargoyle gave me a salty look over his shoulder, then trundled out of the room.
Wonderful. Now, every time I gave Raj only one can, he’d remind me of the fact that my boyfriend thought he needed more food than I gave him. I wondered if Kipa realized Raj could talk. Most of the gods knew a lot about gargoyles and other Cryptos. But if Kipa did know, he wasn’t pushing Raj, and for that I was grateful.
I hustled into the shower and took a quick rinse under an extremely warm pulse of water, then slipped into a cute pinup dress that had a black and white striped skirt, and a black sequined peasant top. As I buckled a wide patent leather belt around my waist, I realized that Angel hadn’t texted me when she got home like she said she would. As I sat at my vanity and put on my makeup, I texted Ember.
did angel make it home last night? did you notice if she was acting strange?
she made it home just fine. she did seem a little confused, at least for a little while, but it seemed to clear up. why? what are you thinking might have happened?
i don’t know. i’ll contact you when i find out. it could be nothing. i’ve been under some stress lately. it might just be my imagination.
I finished with my makeup, then slid on a pair of ankle socks and my granny boots. They were black suede, with silver laces, and I’d had them resoled three times because I loved them so much. Feeling presentable, I headed for the kitchen.
Kipa was there, but thank God he wasn’t trying to make breakfast this time. In fact, the kitchen smelled surprisingly fragrant with orange and cinnamon, and I looked around, trying to find out what smelled so good. There, on the counter, were freshly baked cinnamon buns, and I assumed the orange came from the glaze. Kipa was standing there, and I realized he was making mocha at the espresso machine. He glanced over his shoulder when I entered the room.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t mess up the kitchen. I bought some heat and serve rolls, and since I figured we’d be eating brunch, there’s some ham in the oven that’s almost done, and a fruit salad in the refrigerator. Will that work for breakfast for you? And do you want four or five shots in your mocha?”
“Five, please. And it sounds wonderful. Smells good too.”
I pulled the plates out of the cupboard and carried them to the table, setting them on placemats. While Kipa finished making my mocha—and a latte for himself—I carried the food to the table. Then, remembering the past couple days, I warily headed for the door.
As I opened it, eight inches of pristine snow spread out on the sidewalk. That meant the yard would likely have more. I cautiously plowed through the snow to the end of the sidewalk and peered around into the driveway. At least Buck hadn’t been active this morning—or if he had, I hadn’t seen the results yet. But as I was about ready to turn back to the house, I noticed a large for-sale sign on Buck’s lawn. I stared at it for a good two or three minutes before reality fully hit home. Trying to restrain myself, I hurried back inside, shut the door, and then let out a sho
ut.
“I won! I won! He’s moving!”
Kipa was sitting at the table. He gave me an odd look as I hurried into the dining room.
“We did it! We drove him out!” I danced around the room, wrapping my arms around Kipa’s shoulders as I planted a big kiss on his forehead. “Buck and his trigger-happy family are leaving. There’s a for-sale sign on their yard.”
“That’s wonderful!” Kipa pulled me down onto his knee. “I have to admit, I’m relieved. I really didn’t like leaving you here with him so close. Now come and eat your breakfast. I’m going to go find Gunnar as soon as I finish. We’ll be back around sixish tonight. That was the time, right?”
Almost too excited to eat, I slipped into my chair and dug into the rolls. “That’s fine. I have some things to do today anyway.” As I ate my breakfast and drank my mocha, all I could think about was that Buck was going to move. I deliberately kept my mind off who might move in in his place. I wanted to enjoy the feeling of freedom, and to take things one step at a time.
Shortly after Kipa left, I got a call from Llew.
“Raven? I’m so glad you answered. Listen, there’s a problem with that housekeeping scroll I sold you. If you haven’t cast it yet, don’t, all right?”
“Housekeeping spell? I bought a house-clearing spell. I’m not sure what you’re talking about. And yes, I already cast it.”
“Oops.” He sounded like he had swallowed a frog. After a moment, he asked, “Have you noticed anything unusual?”
Curious as to just what was going on, I started to shake my head, then stopped.
“Actually, yes. The ferrets have been acting up since I cast it. They keep trying to push all of their litter out of the cage even when it’s clean. And my friend Angel seemed awfully strange last night when she dropped by. She tried to rearrange my books, and then offered to clean my kitchen.”
Llew groaned. “Yeah, that sounds about right. The spell I sold you was mismarked. It’s a housekeeping spell, specifically to…strongly encourage members of the household to clean up after themselves. You know, for mothers whose kids and husbands never lend a hand, or roommates who live with slobs. But I kind of think the witch who made it went a little overboard. I had two complaints this morning that it spurs on an OCD urge to constantly clean. Apparently, it affects ferrets as well.”
I stared at the table for a moment. So that was what was going on.
“So instead of a house-clearing spell, I cast a spell that made my ferrets go OCD on their litter? The spell must have grazed Angel as well. So, tell me, how do I deal with this? I need to break the spell. I am not going to clean the ferrets’ litter five times a day and I won’t have them panicking over a drop of pee or poop. And do I need to call Angel over? Or is the spell localized to my house?”
“It was my mistake. I can come out and neutralize the spell. I’ll bring an actual cleansing spell with me as well.” He sounded so flustered that I took pity on him.
“It’s all right, Llew. And yes, please come over. How soon can you be here?”
“Give me half an hour. I’m closing up the shop early today.”
As he signed off, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I knew what was going down with the ferrets, and with Angel. And I was still dancing a jig over the news that Buck would soon be out of my life. The thought of the neighborhood without him and his cronies made me absolutely ecstatic. I decided to celebrate with a little retail therapy and went into my office, pulling up V-Bazaar, an online artists and merchants bazaar. As I settled down for some serious shopping, it occurred to me that at the very least, my life wasn’t boring. Though sometimes, boring seemed like it might be a nice change of pace.
Chapter Eight
By the time Llew got there, the ferrets had managed to shove all their litter on the floor again. The fix was easier than I thought. All Llew had to do was to go through the house, using a simple hex-breaking spell, and immediately after he cleansed the ferrets’ room, they settled down, looking confused and mildly hung over.
As I replaced their litter and bedding, Elise watched me carefully.
What happened? I feel like I’m drunk.
“You were under a spell. I inadvertently cast the wrong spell—it was a mistake. It turned you and your brothers into cleaning machines and you emptied your cage of litter several times.”
She yawned. I’m tired, and Gordon and Templeton are worn out.
“Then take a nap, Elise. Everything will be all right now.” I gave them a handful of their favorite treats. “Here, eat hearty and go curl up.”
Thank you, Raven. I think I will have a nap.
They scarfed down the treats. Then, satiated and sleepy, they curled up in their cage for a nap.
Llew and I returned to the living room.
“Thanks,” I said. “I was wondering what the hell was going on with them.” I motioned to the sofa. “Want a drink or something?”
“Soda, if you have it.” Llew stretched out in one of the armchairs, his long legs crossed at the ankles. “So what’s going on lately?”
I handed him a cream soda and opened one for myself.
“One of Kipa’s Elitvartijat has a problem.”
“One of what has a problem?”
“His elite guards. Anyway, I’m going to see what I can do about it. The guard thinks he’s being haunted. They’re coming by tonight and I’ll see if I can find anything to suggest a ghost or a spirit’s latched onto him. I swear, the spirit world’s been particularly active the past six or seven months, and it only seems to be growing.”
“When isn’t it active? I mean, given how many people have died over the eons, I’m not surprised. Hey, have you ever come across any ghosts from, oh…caveman days?” Llew’s eyes lit up. He was an ancient history buff.
I blinked. “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question before. When I think about it, um…no, actually. Though I have encountered spirits that are thousands of years old. But after a while, unless they’re bound for a purpose, the spirits who hang around the Aether degrade, so to speak.”
“What do you mean?”
“If a spirit doesn’t eventually move into the Netherworld, they lose their sense of self. It can take hundreds—even thousands of years—but it will eventually happen.”
“What happens to them at that point?” Llew asked, sitting straight. “Do they vanish?”
“Not really, because spirits can never be destroyed. Energy transforms, and spirits are energy. They either evolve and move on, or degrade and turn into creatures that move into the astral realm. That’s where you get some of the demons from. Not all, because there are classes of beings who were never human to start with that are malign and want only harm. But some of the low-level demons…like the hungry ghosts…well, they come from a place of greed, rather than consciousness. They’re spirits that have been trapped too long in the Aether.” I shrugged. “Think of it like a bodybuilder who stops working out. His muscles don’t vanish, but they lose their tone and can atrophy from lack of use.”
“Ah, I get it.” Llew yawned. “Speaking of which, I need to get some exercise in. I’ve been slacking off, working at the shop for too many hours without hitting the gym. But by the time I go home, I don’t want to do much except watch TV.”
I was feeling antsy myself. “Well, it’s still early in the afternoon. Why don’t we go for a walk? The trail at the end of the cul-de-sac here leads into UnderLake Park. Go with me?”
He frowned. “UnderLake Park has a certain reputation—”
“So do I. Come on. We’ll be fine. The only trails I’m reluctant to travel are the ones that Ulstair used to go jogging on, and that’s mostly because of the memories. Also, I refuse to go anywhere near where Ember and Viktor found his body. But I won’t avoid the entire park.”
Llew shrugged. “All right. Let’s go. You lead the way. Are you bringing Raj?”
I called to Raj. “Llew and I are going for a walk, boy. You want to come?”
Raj glanced at Llew, then at me. Then he turned toward the TV with a meaningful look.
I laughed. “Okay, you can stay home and watch TV. But you and I are going to start walking more, whether or not Captain Crushbot is on.”
I turned on the TV and tuned it to the Anime Channel. Sure enough, it was time for Captain Crushbot—an anime about a cyborg superhero who, along with his zany sidekick, the angst-ridden ex-girlfriend, and several other tropes that never seemed to grow old, continually saved the world from destruction.
Sliding my feet into a pair of waterproof suede walking boots, I then shrugged on the jacket that I had charmed for warmth. It used my own body heat, reflecting and amping it up, to keep me warm, and it worked under freezing situations. I had enchanted several articles of clothing, but for a simple walk in the park, even on a snowy day, just the jacket should do the trick. My skirt was long enough to keep the chill air away from my legs.
I locked the door after activating the security wards, pocketed my keys along with my wallet, and grabbed a sturdy walking stick off the porch. Glancing across the street, I saw no sign of Buck or his brood, but the for-sale sign sat there, a sweet promise of peace to come.
It was snowing heavily. I’d forgotten to check the weather report, but I had close to nine inches at this point. I wasn’t complaining, though.
Seattle snowstorms, even the heavy ones, never seemed to last beyond a week or two. We enjoyed them when they came for the novelty they were. Well, except for traffic. Traffic during a snowstorm was a nightmare, even with the appearance of a mere inch or two. This was due to several reasons. One, our area didn’t get much snow as a rule, so no one remembered how to drive in it. But when we did get slammed, the snow generally melted off during the day, then iced over at night. With a city built on steep hills and roads, ice was non-navigable.
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