She arched a brow. “I am many things, Viking, but I am not a witch.”
“Somebody put up strong wards.”
Azalea pursed her lips. “I think not. Not wards. Not this time.” She sniffed. “I think you’re experiencing the protective mood of the house. If it were a dog, you would say its hackles have risen.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t think I have to tell you that.”
“Because of me?” It couldn’t be.
“You are the first person who has felt this ward. Tell me, Viking, what are you up to?”
He looked around the room as if an answer might appear somewhere, but it didn’t, so he waited.
Azalea shook her head. “No good, that’s what you’ve been up to, and the teahouse knows it. Shame on you. The house considers you a friend and shelters you. You know that. You would be a fool to take its protection and allegiance for granted.”
Before he could conjure up a reasonable-sounding explanation for what he was doing, she spoke again. “No, no. Good goddess, no.” She pointed at him with her index finger. “Don’t tell me you’re still looking for a way to come alive.”
Eric grumbled.
“Oh for heaven’s sake. It’s not safe. How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not natural for the dead to come alive again. You have had your time on this earth in human form. You must make the best of being dead. You should be thankful you have the ability to roam the dimensions as easily as you do. Few have that power and privilege.”
Eric nodded and waited for her to finish. “That is all true. And I was happy.” He held her eyes. “Until I met Abby.”
“You can be her companion. You can watch over her until her life on this plane comes to an end and then be together. Don’t do something stupid that could affect not only your death, but her life.”
The line of his jaw firmed. How many hours had he worried about just that? Did she really think he would do this without consideration for everyone involved? Azalea should know him better than that. If she were anyone else, he would express his anger. But he had too much respect for her. He would make her understand.
“What have you done?”
“Calm down. I have done nothing wrong, and I will do nothing wrong.”
“Something has changed. I can feel it now. The house senses it.”
“I went to see Guiden of Egregore.”
“Oh my stars! Come with me.” She waved him to the side of the reception room and listened as he told her every detail of what had happened.
When he finished, she shook her head. “Only a stupid—a really stupid—spirit would take magic from such a disreputable wizard.”
“All wizards are disreputable.”
She tilted her head. “That may be true. And that’s the problem. Wizards believe they’re so wise and powerful their existence rises beyond the universal fulcrum of good and evil, but, let me tell you, they are not. Too often their meddling magic causes irreparable damage to the world.”
Eric couldn’t disagree. There were many stories about the results of magic going wrong. Men with donkey ears. Women barren. Towns burned. “Don’t worry, I will never be Guiden’s—or anyone else’s—assassin.”
“But you’re taking his gift.” Her eyes narrowed to slits of slate. “Nothing in this universe is free. You know that, Viking.”
“How can I not take the magic? I love Abby. I have never, in over a century, loved anyone as I love her. This is our time to be together. For six hours I will hold her in my arms and feel her heart beat against mine.” And ravish every inch of her. But he didn’t add that.
Azalea shook her head. “I tell you, Eric, it’s not right. No good will come of this. I will say no more on this matter. Do not expect me, or the house, to help you when things go wrong. Guiden’s magic is far beyond our powers.” Without another word, she turned and walked back into the first tea room.
Eric returned to Joy at the reception desk. In front of her lay Guiden’s two jade amulets. Green mist arose from them. Joy gave him a sideways look. “I suppose these are for you.”
13
Eric sat in the passenger seat of my beat-up Mini as I drove to the manor. Cars are not his favorite mode of transportation, but he said he wanted to be with me. While that sounded nice, I know BS when I hear it. He had some other reason for wanting to fill my small car with his super-sized Viking specter. I waited, but his mouth remained closed until we were half-way there and I broke the silence.
“Eric?”
“What?”
I gave him the look.
He grumbled.
“Eric! What are you not telling me?”
“I talked with Aslog.”
“You what?”
“I went over . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, I got that. But why? This is our investigation. Why did you go over on your own?” My knuckles went white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. I had never expected him to undermine me. This was my case.
“My äskling,” he said in a tone of voice that would melt any dumb maiden’s heart, “are you scared she would hurt me? She’s just a draugr. I am a Viking.”
I threw my hands in the air, leaving the wheel temporarily free. The car veered to the right. “Of course not. That’s not the point.”
“Abby.”
I grabbed the wheel and took control of the car.
He growled. “Spare me. Please, spare me.” He growled louder. “I don’t want another of your I’m-a-modern-woman arguments.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“You’ll waste a lot of words telling me what modern women want and need and deserve. This or that. And none of it—I repeat, none of it—makes sense.”
“Eric.” Where’s a good ghost-buster when you need them?
He gave me a mischievous side glance.
I fought with the ghost of a smile tugging the corners of my mouth. Of course he was right, but that only made things worse. I could get a wee bit high-and-mighty about such things, and it never helped me win an argument with him. It simply bored him. There were more pressing matters at hand than my wounded ego. “So, what did she say, oh wise Swedish man?”
He grunted. Strike one for dear Abby.
“She said she’s not interested in diamonds.”
“I already told you that.”
“She’s after a book of arcane magic left by witches long ago. They were called Zagars.”
“A book?”
“A grimoire, to be exact; a book of spells she believes contains a recipe to set her free. I assured her we are only interested in finding the stash of diamonds and that we could work together to search the house.”
“And she believed you?”
“Not at first, but I freed her legs on the condition she would help, not hinder us. I think she believes me now.”
“You what?” The image of a loose vampire flying around while I looked for the diamonds spiked my anger. Clearly Aslog managed to move around with the weight of the chains, and now it would be even easier for her to haunt me and others.
“Abby, calm down. I have dealt with draugrs before. To date, none of them have harmed me.” He paused. “At least not much. At any rate, I do not fear her. At the moment she is grateful and she could be a useful ally. You need to think like a warrior.”
“Seriously? The woman stinks.”
“There is that.”
“And she drank her husband’s lover.”
“I believe that.”
“And drove him crazy.”
“Your point?”
“I don’t trust her.”
“Put trust aside. We need to get along with her.”
My fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “I don’t suppose we can get rid of her?”
“There is only one way to get rid of a draugr, and that is to seal her in her own grave. It is possible, but not easy.”
“Great. Just what I need. One more item on my to-do list. Buy diapers, fix broken toys, boi
l macaroni, and stuff a dead corpse in the dirt.”
Eric smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
I turned the car into the long driveway. “So, any advice about how to handle Aslog?”
“Carefully.”
We arrived. As I stepped out of the car, Eric appeared at my side. The local hounds from hell howled, as if on cue. Despite my resolution to stay calm, the traitorous hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t help it. The canines creeped me out. Between my teeth, I muttered, “I want to leave here today with something concrete to report to Charisma.”
“Why are you talking through your teeth?”
I glared at him. Sometimes ghosts could be too cool. “Never mind.”
The front door stood ajar and we let ourselves in.
Aslog hovered at the bottom of the stairs wearing a purple velvet coat with a fur collar that covered a lot of her decay. “Now what?” she said.
“I’m mapping the place.” My arms were filled with papers. I stuck my chin in the air, because I had no better idea of how to appear in control. Appear being the big word, because my body, which was covered in goosebumps, was far from under my control.
“Aslog,” said Eric in greeting.
“Eric,” said Aslog.
“I see you two know each other.” I tried not to sound sarcastic, but I’m not good at that.
“We’ve met.” Her eyes doubled in size as she gave him an up-and-down look that hovered at the location of his hidden jewels. “He’s a handsome Viking.”
“Yes,” he said in a low tone that rumbled through the room. “We have met.”
“At your service, manly man. If there is anything, and I do mean anything, I can do for you . . .”
He grunted. “I am here to help Abby. I have no interest in hurting you, but if you harm her in any way, your final fate will be sealed.” He paused. “Do not take even a drop of her blood, draugr. I warn you, no licks or tastes.”
I tried to keep my mouth shut, but it wasn’t easy. These two had more drama than a daytime soap.
Aslog huffed. “Settle down, big boy. I’m only interested in finding the Zagars’ book of magic.”
“Mhm, I understand. But you must keep your appetite in check.”
“I will not harm either of you, unless you get in my way.”
“Agreed,” I said to move the conversation away from my blood. My gut churned. I needed to get to work. Managing a Viking, especially a dead one, was hard enough, without a horny, vampiric she-beast tagging along. But I would do it. For my kids I would do it. I took the large sheets of paper I carried to a round table made of chestnut that stood in the center of the front foyer. I cleaned the top with a tissue from my pocket and placed the paper on top. Out of my knapsack I pulled my measuring tape and flashlight.
“I’ll check the perimeter,” Eric said and disappeared.
Aslog stared at me with her black eye holes. “Breather, do you really think making a map on paper helps?”
“It can’t hurt.”
On the top sheet, labeled main floor, I had drawn the outline of the house in pencil and created a grid. “I’m starting with this entranceway.”
I penciled in the double front door which opened to this massive front foyer. It would be easier to map the place if it wasn’t so dark. I tried the light switch but nothing turned on, so I sent a text to Charisma Dubois to have the electricity connected. Aslog hovered beside me, watching me as if I were a dancing specimen in a petri dish, but my guess was that I was more like an exotic appetizer on a tray.
I switched on my flashlight. “It’s so dark in here.”
She shrugged her shoulders, or what was left of them.
“Before I draft the first floor I’ll check out the windows.” She followed me to the first panes. They were covered with heavy dark curtains. Two had been boarded up, but the rest were in tack. The daylight that seeped through the dirty panes was weak, it being such a miserable day, but at least it was light. With my flashlight still on, I returned to the front foyer to draw.
Beneath the dust and cobwebs the bones of the building were truly elegant. A little tlc could make it shine. It was a shame to see such a grand old beauty left to ruin.
Where would someone hide diamonds? If I thought about the most likely spots and checked them out, I might save myself a lot of map work. “Have you found any hiding spots?” I asked Aslog.
She tilted her decaying head to the right, which made her ear dangle. Not a cover-girl look. “No. I’ve looked through this house a million times over and found nothing. I can’t see how paper will help.”
I shrugged. “I’d rather graph the rooms later when the lights are turned on. “Let’s check out the walls.” I started tapping the exterior wall while Aslog stood a foot behind me and watched. Boy did she stink. I covered the outside of the foyer. Each tap sounded the same. I didn’t exactly know what it should sound like, but I figured if there was a hidey-hole it would sound different, maybe hollow as in Nancy Drew movies. I moved to the west wall and began again. Aslog shadowed my every move.
As I tapped I thought about where I would hide diamonds. Not in the exterior wall, for sure. But I had to start somewhere.
Before I got to the east wall, Eric reappeared. “The manor is safe, for now.”
The “for now” part made me suspicious, but I kept tapping.
“I’ll search the basement,” he said. “I smell rats, and there’s probably a nest down there. I don’t think you want to meet them.” He disappeared without waiting for a response.
“This is stupid,” said Aslog.
I opened the front door. “I need fresh air.” Boy did I need fresh air. It wasn’t just the draugr. My nose twitched involuntarily from the dust in the old manor. A nasty, dull headache grew between my eyes. I rubbed the spot and turned towards the creature. “Have you a better plan?” Who knew hunting in a haunted house could be so difficult?
“I was counting on you for new ideas. You know, human ideas.”
“New?” My right brow slid upwards. “I think we need to be practical.”
“That’s your plan?”
“Until I think of something better.” I bit my lower lip so I wouldn’t say more. “I’m going into the first room on the right to check the walls. Why don’t you take the one on the left?” And give my nose a break. “That way we can cover double the area.”
“No way. I’m staying with you.”
I exhaled slowly. “You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“I have no interest in witches or their spells. Trust me on this, if I see anything that looks remotely magical, I’ll scream.”
“Scream? I like that. It reminds me of my last meal.”
Chills ran up my spine. I balled my fists and rested them on my hips. “Is that your sense of humor?”
Aslog cackled. “All right, all right. I’ll take the left.”
An hour later we met in the middle of the front foyer. I was covered in dust. Aslog looked and smelled as hideous as ever.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Nothing,” said Aslog.
“You would tell me if you found the diamonds?”
Aslog shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. As I keep telling you, I don’t need diamonds. I will tell you.”
“Abby, I found something,” Eric called from the basement.
14
I ran as fast as my mortal feet would let me. Sometimes I hate being human. Aslog disappeared in a flash, as if she were a blur on a fast-forwarded video tape.
Descending the winding wooden staircase into the basement I smelled mildew and mold and something even more foul. A drainage grate? The basement was even darker than the main floor. With my flashlight I could make out a main room with cement walls. A washing machine and dryer were to my right. Between them sat a utility sink and a table with laundry soap and an assortment of other household bottles. A shelving unit lined the far wall, partially filled with empty mason jars, a se
t of dusty luggage, tennis rackets, cans of paint and boxes. Lots of boxes. And cobwebs. Lots and lots of cobwebs. Yet it didn’t really look or feel like the basement of a haunted manor. It looked more like a large, suburban basement from the twentieth century.
I screamed and jumped as a hairy hunter spider with an enormous body landed on my shoulder. I hate spiders. I’ll take a ghost any day over a spider. Grinding my teeth, I flicked the assaulting arachnid off my shoulder with my finger.
Eric stood by an opening in the left wall. The edges of his wide smile twitched, but he was wise enough not to laugh. “Don’t like ‘em with eight legs?”
I shook my head and tried to look normal. But who could look normal in such a situation?
Aslog folded her arms around her decaying-self and roved Eric with her ghoulish eye sockets. “Well, sweet cheeks, what have you found?”
“A hidden passageway.” He pointed to the west wall where there was a gaping hole.
He had slid a tall, dusty shelving unit to the side, revealing a cement wall with the bottom part open. The space was about a yard wide and five feet high.
“How did you know there was a tunnel there?”
Eric shrugged.
Aslog looked at me. “Don’t be too impressed, breather. He can detect how solid walls are. It’s a ghost thing. They need to know what they’re passing through.”
“Oh.”
I shone my flashlight into the hole. “I can’t see anything.”
Eric gave me a sideways look. “I’ll see what’s in there. You can follow, or wait here.” Right, ghosts and vampires don’t need flashlights.
“I’m right behind you, Viking.” Aslog vibrated with energy.
“Me too,” I said, feeling every bit the weak, human link in the group, but not wanting to be left behind.
Movies and books make secret passages exciting, but anxiety knotted in my gut as I brushed aside a cobweb and stepped inside the wooden entranceway. Rough rock and dirt walls encased the tunnel. It was pitch-black. Why was every place I went in this manor darker than the last? I followed the undead into the darkness.
How does the joke go? The light at the end of the tunnel is really a train coming. I always liked that line, but now I couldn’t see any light, not even a glimmer, so what did that mean?
Midnight Magic (A Ghost & Abby Mystery Book 1) Page 7
