“Abby, love, you’re still hanging out with the cranky Swede?”
I smiled.
Eric glared.
“Eric,” the pirate nodded at him.
“Pirate,” Eric nodded back.
Anxiety ate at me. Screw all this manly nodding. “Have you ever dealt with a draugr?” I asked the pirate.
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Do they have nice breasts?”
“Trust me, these creatures have nothing to do with pleasure,” muttered Eric.
“Are they in the area?”
Eric nodded.
The pirate’s molten-brown eyes hardened. “Shall we haunt them?”
Eric’s mouth quirked up on the right side. “They are immortal beasts that fear no one.”
“A cross between a vampire and a wraith,” I added, impatient with the slow pace of ghost talk.
“Are they threatening the town people?”
“No, not yet. There appears to be only one of them, and she’s looking for something in Graystone Manor. That’s where Abby ran into her.”
“Aha. And this immortal beast that feeds on humans let you live?”
“Yes, but she scared the living daylights out of me.”
“I wonder why? She let you live, that is.”
“A worthy question, pirate.” Eric did his man nod again.
“Oh, for goodness sake, you two. I have twenty minutes before I need to be home. Can we speed this up a bit?”
The pirate pulled on his moustache. “Have you a plan, Viking?”
“Not yet. But I may need your help.”
“You have my allegiance. Whatever. Whenever.” He bowed.
“I would hug you, if I could,” I said to the pirate.
“Mhm.” The seductive edge to his voice made my stomach flutter. I swear that man, dead or alive, was a lady-killer. “I’d like that.” His right brow rose.
Eric grumbled and I couldn’t quite make out what he said, but it was in ancient Norse, so it couldn’t have been kind.
The pirate tipped his head. “Please excuse me. I want to flirt with the new ghost in the corner who came with the bull fighter. Apparently she used to sing in the bordellos in Madeira. Adieu, mon ami.” He nodded at Eric, winked at me, and vanished.
Azalea walked up to us.
“Happy birthday,” I said. “We wish you all the best.”
“And?”
As usual she knew I had more on my mind. “And, thank you for sending me my first client. I’m working on her case right now.”
Azalea’s white brows edged up her forehead. “I didn’t send anyone to you.”
“Charisma Dubois. She said she was told only I could help her. I assumed you sent her.”
“No, I didn’t. What is she asking you to do?”
I gave her a cryptic version of my meeting with my mysterious client. “Ms. Dubois cried a lot, so I never thought to doubt her integrity.”
Azalea twitched her nose. “Let me touch your hand to get a better picture.”
While her touch felt light on my skin, I sensed a probing inside my head, which felt as if it were being raked by talons. I bit my bottom lip.
“I see,” Azalea said.
Eric stared at her. “What?”
“The woman is who she says she is. Her great-grandmother left diamonds in Graystone Manor, which Charisma recently inherited from her uncle Jean Dubois. It is all as she said.”
“Why did she come to me?
“Her manicurist told her about you. You see I’m not the only one in town who knows you are good at dealing with haunted things.” She smiled as she looked up at Eric.
“Do you think she meant to send me to the manor for evil reasons?”
“No, no. She wants the diamonds. I detect no malice in her request. Just a desperate desire to have the jewels and sever her ties with the haunted manor.”
“Do you know anything about Graystone Manor?”
“I have driven by it, but I’ve never gone inside. I’ve heard ghosts pass through it on occasion, but truthfully I have enough ghosts here to deal with. I don’t need to go looking for more.”
I blinked, unsure of how to ask my next question. “Can you see the manor through me?”
“Yes, of course, dear. If you don’t mind me holding your hand again, I’ll probe your memories to get a sense of the place. If you think that will help you.”
I offered my hand and Azalea gently took it between both of hers.
Her eyes grew wide and she took a deep breath. “Oh no. Oh no, no no.” She released my hand as if it crawled with a million hungry red ants. “May the energy of the universe protect us all.”
“What?” asked Eric.
Azalea pushed a wisp of hair away from her face. “A horrid creature filled my vision and I couldn’t see past her darkness. She’s cold and evil to the core. Darker than any spirit, demon or poltergeist I’ve ever dealt with. I need to add protection for the teahouse.”
“But the cove . . .?” I said. We had to protect the town.
Eric’s jaw hardened. “It’s time I met Aslog.”
“Are you crazy?” I said.
“Fear is the worst evil. Our fear of the draugr may be worse than her real threat. It could be she has no interest in us or our town. She may be looking for something, and once she finds it, she will be on her way. Maybe I could help expedite her departure.”
“Help evil?”
Eric’s eyes hardened into a look I hoped I’d never see again. “My äskling, I would do anything to protect you.”
“Azalea, tell him he’s crazy.”
She laughed. “A man in love does crazy things. Who am I to comment?” She gave Eric a knowing glance, which made him flinch. Only Azalea could do that.
8
When I got home my kids rushed to the door to meet me. Okay, sort of rushed. First came Jonathan, my freckled-faced red-head who would turn seven in a month. My pet name for him was “Monster,” as in Cookie Monster, because he was always stealing cookies. I kept a private stash in my bedroom, which he hadn’t found yet. Close on his heals came Jillian, my fine-featured five-year-old with curly blond hair. I call her Jinx most of the time, because it fit and helped distinguish her from my cousin who has the same first name. Jane a chubby-cheeked, blue-eyed two-year-old came last, beaming with pride for catching up to the others.
Eric followed me inside, invisible but ever-present. While he spent hours every day in my home, he never showed himself to anyone but me. He would have given anything to truly be a part of our lives, but neither of us wanted my kids growing up talking to ghosts. It was just too weird. Maybe at some point I could get used to the idea, but I wasn’t there yet, and I couldn’t exactly google my problem. Imagine the query: How to get your kids to like your ghost-boyfriend. The answers might be fun, but undoubtedly useless, and on the sidebar someone would probably try to sell me fluorescent condoms for the undead, with pulsating ribs. I couldn’t look for ideas in a woman’s magazine. They’re dominated by living flesh. As far as I knew, I was treading new ground. Sunset Cove was an anomaly.
I hugged my biggest two and picked up the youngest. “I missed you guys.” We huddled in a group hug in the hallway. At moments like this I knew I made the right choices in my life. Nothing else mattered but the family. I had been raised in a series of foster homes that were all sizes and shades of broken. I wanted more for my kids.
Jonathan broke free first. “Aunty Jilly won’t let me ride my skateboard in the house.” Jill is my cousin, the saint, who babysits for me.
“Jill is a sensible woman.”
“I got to bake cookies, Mommy. Want to taste one?” asked Jinx.
“That’s only because you were crying,” said Jonathan. “That’s not fair.”
“Crying?”
Jill rounded the corner from the kitchen. “You won’t believe what happened.” Her long, wavy, mahogany-brown hair, which she normally took great care to style, fell in a tangled mess to her shoulders. I took a quic
k breath and stared into her soft caramel eyes. Instead of feeling the warmth of our bond, I saw only fear.
I had asked too much of her and I felt awful. Jill had said she wanted to spend time with the kids, but three under the age of seven could be total chaos. Flour stained her shirt and jeans and a thin layer of sweat covered her face, which had a distinctive blotchy pallor.
With a sinking feeling, I gave her a big hug, wishing that the warmth of it could solve all our problems. “What happened?” Images of culinary disasters flooded my mind.
My cousin pushed back after a few seconds. “I don’t know if I can explain it.”
Been there, I thought. Eric folded his arms. He didn’t like talking about feelings and thought women over-emotional, but he didn’t leave my side. Others may not see him, but I could, and, more importantly I could feel him in my heart, always there. Always. I touched Jill’s arm. “Start talking. You’re the one who always says a problem shared becomes half a problem.”
“There was this big woman,” said Jonathan.
I tousled his hair. “What did she look like?”
“Ugly.”
For the love of all that is holy in the universe, don’t let it be . . .
“Burned,” said Jinx, “like a marshmallow held too long in a camp fire.”
Eric tilted his head back as if he had been punched. Jinx had him around her little finger without even knowing it. And to see her upset hit him, my tough Viking warrior, harder than a spear.
“Okay,” I said. “Did this woman come into the house?”
“No,” said Jill. “She knocked, and when I opened the door she tried to step in, but she couldn’t seem to cross the threshold. It was as if there was an invisible barrier.”
I looked towards Eric. He shrugged, so I shrugged. “Hey, it sounds like we have a protection spell on this place.” No doubt Azalea had a witch friend make it.
“Not funny. You should have seen the woman’s face. It drooped on her skeleton like dead flesh, and her eyes . . .” Jill shuddered. “I looked at where they should be, but all I saw were two black holes. I stared at them and they became a vortex of horrible, horrible images.”
“A rolodex of death, eh?” I swallowed, remembering them too vividly. “I may have met this woman.”
“You have weird friends. That’s all I can say.”
“I wouldn’t call her a friend.”
Jill wrapped her arms around her middle as if it ached. “She didn’t say she knew you. At first she didn’t say anything. She moaned and threw up her arms as if she were an extra in a really bad zombie flick. For a minute, I thought she was wearing a costume and pulling a sick prank on me. You know weird things happen in the cove. But then her mouth opened a foot wide and a dark-purple mist came out and I really got scared. She gave an unearthly scream, as if it came from a home for tormented souls.”
Eric nodded.
“Did she say anything?” I asked.
The room went silent. Jill brushed at the sweat on her face and left another smudge of flour on her forehead. Her lips trembled.
“Well?”
“She said only one thing, and I don’t want to repeat it.”
My gut twisted. “Just tell me.”
“She said”—Jill swallowed—“‘I’ll be back.’”
9
Later that night, I settled the kids into their beds and turned the knob on the radio that sat on a table between the older two. It didn’t work as a radio. It was a signal to Eric to take over our nightly routine.
The deal was that once the kids had brushed their teeth they got to hear a tale on the magic radio, which never worked at any other time of day. I stood by in the doorway and listened as Eric stood at the foot of their beds and told them ancient Norse tales.
“I have heard that you have both been good today,” Eric said, “and that is as it should be.”
He always started his story that way.
“Tell us a story,” said Jinx, squirming under her sheets.
His tough features softened. He had never had children of his own and had fallen in love with mine.
“It may scare you,” he said in his deepest voice.
“Yes, yes,” they said. “Scare us.
“The stories of old remain because they are good stories, the best stories, stories of bravery and courage and heart. Tonight, I will tell you how Odin lost his eye. You remember Odin, don’t you?”
“He’s the Viking god of gods,” said Jonathan.
“Ja, he is the oldest and the greatest of the gods of Scandinavia, the gods of the Vikings.”
Jonathan punched his pillow and put his head into the crevice he created. “Two ravens perch on his shoulders. They fly around the realm all day watching everything that goes on and return to him at night to report to him. That would be so cool.”
“You listen well, young man. Odin knows all the secrets of the world.”
“So what happened to his eye?”
“When Odin was young, he wanted to understand the world and was prepared to do whatever it took to gain knowledge. He hung from the world-tree that spreads between all the dimensions in the universe for nine nights to see what he could see.”
“On a swing?” asked Jinx.
“No, nothing so nice. They tied him to a tree and hurt him. Alone and in pain, he hung from the tree until he was near death.”
“And then his eye fell out?” said Jonathan.
Eric laughed. “Not exactly. Through the agony of his sacrifice the runes were revealed to him.”
“Runes?” Jinx wiggled her nose.
“Runes are letters of a forgotten language, one that goes back before time to the dawn of magic. They made sense to him. He understood their power as well as their meaning. And in that instant of recognition, the tree branch he hung from broke and he fell screaming to the ground.”
“That had to hurt,” said Jonathan, who had experience in such matters.
Eric smiled. “It did, but now Odin understood magic, and because of this he ruled the world for centuries. He has different names in different countries, but he is the wisest and the greatest of the gods of ancient times. He roamed the earth disguised as a traveler, so that he could see life as it truly is, not as a king would see it.”
“But what happened to his eye?” Jinx said.
“Long, long ago, when the earth was young, Odin traveled to the land of the giants, Jotunheim, to find Mimir’s well, the well of wisdom.
“Mimir was Odin’s uncle, and Odin begged him for a sip from the well of wisdom, so that he would be even wiser, but Mimir shook his head. He said only he could drink from the well.”
“That wasn’t very nice,” said Jinx.
“Not everyone is nice, angel, but Odin had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and was persistent. That means he would not give up. He begged his uncle. He reminded him of their family connection and begged some more. But Mimir would not budge. He would not let Odin drink from the well of wisdom.
“Finally Odin said, ‘Name your price.’”
“Ooooh,” said Jonathan. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“’Your eye is my price,’” answered Mimir. ‘Put your eye in the pool.’”
“E-ew,” said Jinx.
“Odin asked for a knife, cut out his own eye and placed it carefully in the well. As his eye stared back at him from the water, he filled his cup, which is called the Gjallarhorn, and drank the sacred water, filling himself with wisdom. He could then see more clearly with one eye than he had with two.”
“What happened to the eye?”
“It remains in the well of wisdom, in the waters of knowledge of the future and the past.”
“That sucks,” said Jonathan, rubbing his own eye.
“Odin thought it a worthy exchange. His eye for eternal wisdom.”
“Is that the end of the story?” asked Jillian.
“No.” Eric hesitated for a moment, wondering how much to tell them. “I will tell you more stories ab
out Odin tomorrow night.”
“Aw,” the children said in unison.
“Not tonight, dear ones. It’s time to sleep. And rest assured that there are those who understand the world and look over you, like Odin. Know that you are loved by your family. Know that you are cherished.”
Eric stayed until their breathing eased and they slipped into sleep, looking like perfect angels. He knew, of course, they were not, but they were as close to angels as any human children can be.
I left and waited for him to join me in the living room. We had to figure out a game plan.
10
After the kids fell asleep, Eric and I sat together on my old sofa. Of course I wanted to sit closer to him. Heck, I wanted to hold him in my arms, but I couldn’t. The closer I drew to him, the colder I would feel, until an icy wetness that chilled to the bone would swamp my senses reminding me once again that humans and ghosts aren’t meant to touch.
After a few short minutes of companionable silence, I asked, “What can we do about the draugr?”
“I’ll talk to the others.” By the others he meant the other ghosts in town. “But I don’t think they’ll know much. Draugrs are rare.”
“Should I move the kids into the teahouse?” The building had its own ways of protecting people and I had used it as a sanctuary for my family before.
Eric shook his head. “You have more room here for the kids to play, and the move might upset them.”
“I don’t understand why Aslog came to my home. I thought we parted on good terms.”
“Curse the draugr!” he growled. “They aren’t easy to understand, but I know they are curious. If she had wanted to hurt someone, she would have. She was checking you out, and probably the town as well.”
“For food?”
Eric paled. “Let’s hope not.”
“I’m going back tomorrow and I’ll give her a piece of my mind.” I really thought I’d made a deal with her.
“My äskling, do you think that’s wise?” His face lengthened and he shook his head. “Modern women are too determined to be brave. Sometimes being brave is stupid.”
I glared at him. He was probably right, but I didn’t appreciate being called stupid and I wanted to do something.
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