Graveyard Druid: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (The Colin McCool Paranormal Suspense Series Book 2)

by M. D. Massey

  After the short battle, Chief Ookla showed up with his witch doctor, and they examined one of the corpses. The appearance of the ghouls was troubling, to say the least, and it was apparent that their arrival had put a damper on the festivities. Just as well, because the fight had sobered me up and I already felt the world’s worst hangover coming on.

  The witch doctor toed the corpse, then muttered gibberish and threw a handful of animal bones on the ground. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body locked up for a few moments, until he began trembling and foaming at the mouth. Since no one else seemed surprised by this behavior, I played it cool until his magic-induced seizure passed. When he came back around, he took one look at the bones and exchanged a few terse words in troll-speak with the chief. Then he spat on the corpse with a scowl and stormed off, leaving the augury bones where they’d fallen.

  Chief Ookla’s bumpy green brow furrowed. “Wise troll say trouble ahead. We break camp, head home instead.”

  I nodded. “I understand, chief, and I thank you for your hospitality. I’ll relay the results of our negotiations to Queen Maeve, and let you know when your scouts can start patrolling her borders.”

  The chief shook his head. “We start work now for queen. Danger coming, needs to be seen.”

  I shook hands with all the male trolls and wished the females well, tactfully avoiding making eye contact with the troll maiden I’d accidentally “fallen for” earlier. I hiked out of the river bottom to the streets above, plopping down on a bus stop bench to review the night’s events while I waited.

  Having sobered more since the short battle, I had plenty of questions with no answers. What were ghouls doing wandering around so close to downtown Austin? And who the hell had created them in the first place?

  The vamps were always the first group everyone blamed when lesser undead started showing up. I doubted any of the local coven members were to blame, because they weren’t sloppy enough to leave half-turned victims roaming around. Even so, I decided my first order of business would be to speak with Luther, the local coven leader. Then I’d get some answers.

  The following morning, I woke up under a tarp on the front porch of the junkyard warehouse, with Roscoe and Rufus curled up next to me. Actually, Finn woke me up with a light kick to my leg.

  “Morning, sunshine. I figured I’d better wake you before your uncle shows up and pitches a fit. Ed’s a nice guy, and he likes you, but I don’t think he’d appreciate walking into his place of business and seeing his nephew passed out on the front steps.”

  Finn wore a set of overalls that made him look like an escapee from the county jail, and a shit-eating expression that said he enjoyed seeing me hungover. He handed me a steaming cup of coffee. I took it as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, then my head.

  “Thanks. Oh, have mercy. Remind me to never get into a drinking contest with a bunch of trolls again.”

  “Trolls, eh? I thought you smelled a little ripe. Based on the fact that your clothes are strung all over the outdoor shower, and that you’re buck naked, I’ll assume that you at least had the wherewithal to clean off before you passed out.”

  I looked under the tarp, finding that I wore nothing more than a pair of socks. I was never going to hear the end of this.

  “You could have at least brought me some clothes, you know.”

  “What, and spoil the show for the dogs?” The old man loved this. There had been many a time before he’d sobered up that I’d found him wandering the junkyard, or passed out somewhere in various states of undress. Whenever I’d find him, he’d always mumble something about druids not needing clothes, and I’d tell him a lot had changed in two thousand years. I guess I couldn’t blame him for rubbing it in a little.

  Despite the fact that Finn had seen me in my natural state before, both to patch me up after a hard fight and during our survival training, I wrapped the tarp around me as I headed to my room at the back of the warehouse. The look on his face when I came out wearing a pair of shorts with a towel over my shoulder said it all. He puffed away on a hand-rolled cigarette, maintaining a calm expression. But the tightness around his eyes and mouth said he was enjoying this whole scene just a little too much.

  I decided to be a good sport about it. “Thanks for waking me up.”

  He nodded. “Least I could do. By the way, did you get that troll girl’s phone number?”

  I narrowed my eyes and feigned ignorance. “What troll girl?”

  His eyes belied his mirth as he struggled to remain straight-faced. “The one that musk-marked you last night. You know that’s how they mark their mates, right? They have musk glands on the backs of their ankles, and the scent is—unmistakable. I gotta say, my boy, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “It wasn’t—I didn’t—nothing happened!”

  He nodded sagely and blew smoke from his nostrils. “If you say so.”

  Blood rushed to my face as I wisely beat a retreat to the shower, to try to get the remainder of troll funk off me. With sandpaper and gasoline, if necessary.

  Finn hollered after me as I made my escape. “I hope you used protection!” He busted out in laughter, and his ornery cackling echoed throughout the junkyard. I ignored him as I scrubbed myself nearly raw with a bar of mechanic’s pumice soap, paying particular attention to my hips and thighs, where I could only assume I’d been “musk-marked” by the troll maiden during our impromptu introduction. I suspected that Finn was just playing a nasty joke on me, but a little extra scrubbing wouldn’t hurt.

  I walked back around to the front of the warehouse just as the morning crew began showing up. Finn was wiping tears from his eyes, but at least he’d stopped laughing.

  “Something happened last night that I forgot to mention,” I said, wicking moisture from my ear with the towel.

  He snorted as he held back laughter. “You don’t say? Finally ready to fess up about your tryst? Speaking of which, when are you going to introduce her to your mother? As you’re well aware, she hates being the last to know about these things.”

  I sighed in frustration. “C’mon, old man, I’m serious. A group of ghouls showed up at the troll camp last night, and busted up the celebration.”

  He paused in mid-chuckle. “Ghouls? Does Luther know?”

  “Nope, but I’m going to drop by the coffee shop to tell him. Maybe he’ll hire me to take care of it again.”

  The last time the city had encountered a ghoul problem, it had been caused by a rogue nosferatu who was sucking folks dry without turning them. About one in four of those victims came back as a ghoul—more or less a strong, somewhat faster zombie. Luther was a friend of mine, and the de facto head of the local vamp population. He’d hired me to take care of it so his people wouldn’t be blamed. In fact, that’s how we’d become friends.

  I didn’t do that type of work anymore, or at least I hadn’t for a while. But right now money was tight, and I could use the extra scratch. If Luther was hiring, I wouldn’t mind putting my hunter cap back on for a few days to take out the odd ghoul or nos’. But just for a few days.

  Finn nodded. “Hmmph. Been a while since you did any real hunting. Let me know what he says. And don’t be afraid to ask for help if he gives you the job.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, Finn. I did it for two years while you lost yourself in a syringe and a bottle.”

  He winced visibly at that remark. Maybe I shouldn’t have said it, but it was true. Still, I felt bad.

  “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary.”

  He held up a hand and looked away. “No, you’re right. I wasn’t there for you after Jesse died.” He stood and stamped out his cigarette. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  I watched him retreat to the back end of the yard, feeling like an ass. We’d been getting along better since he’d sobered up, and he was making an effort to reconcile our differences. Maybe it was time I forgave him for his past indiscretions. I could have followed him to make amends, but I was alre
ady going to be late for class. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  Entering my room, I picked Jesse’s photo up from the shelf by the door.

  “I know you want me to forgive him, but I don’t know if I can.”

  I felt a soft, cool breeze caress my neck, and I could’ve sworn I heard someone say, Try. I kissed the photo and set it down, and commenced with getting on with my day.

  Chapter Three

  I didn’t get out in time to stop by Luther’s, and due to my hangover and impromptu decontamination routine, I almost didn’t make it to class. On arrival, I snuck in the back and crept into a seat behind all the other students. I ended up moving back a few rows after several of the students started coughing and gagging.

  I guess troll funk was harder to get off than you’d think.

  After class, I suffered the withering stares of my fellow students, making the lame excuse that I’d run over a skunk with my scooter on the way to class. That seemed to placate them for the most part, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be making time with any of the girls in class this semester.

  I felt a bit guilty at the thought, and had to remind myself that Jesse was gone. I’d lost her two years prior, killing her by accident after being cursed by a very powerful witch. Jesse had been my first love, and even after all this time I still reflexively thought of her as my girlfriend. Her ghost still haunted me. Literally, in fact, which made it difficult to put the past behind. To say I was emotionally confused would have been an understatement.

  I ate lunch by myself, outdoors and far away from anyone else. I sat in the very back of the lecture hall in my afternoon class, spending much of the class Googling “how to get rid of skunk smell” and taking notes.

  Once class ended, I stopped by the grocery store and purchased several quarts of vinegar, a few large cans of tomato juice, six pints of hydrogen peroxide, and dish soap. Then I headed back to the junkyard and scrubbed the crap out of my skin and hair using all three at once, just in case. I smelled like pizza sauce by the end of it, but the troll funk was finally gone. I finished up by tossing my clothes in a metal drum with a stick, dousing them with gas, and lighting them on fire. A few folks pulling parts in the yard gave me weird looks. “Skunks,” I explained with a shrug. They nodded and let me be.

  As I finished, I realized I was late to meet Sabine. She’d quickly tired of hanging out with me in class, saying that my history prof got shit all wrong. She looked my age, but might’ve been much older for all I knew. Sabine was half-glaistig, so she could have been a few decades or a few centuries old and no one would have been able to tell the difference. Since we hadn’t seen each other in a while, we’d agreed to meet at Zilker Park to hang out and people watch.

  Zilker was a popular place for Austinites to go when they wanted to get outdoors and enjoy the fall weather. It was a huge park, close to downtown, connected with both the Town Lake Trail and the Barton Creek Greenbelt. One of the great things about Austin was the fact that we had a lot of hippies who voted, and they loved their green spaces. Environmental activists were the only thing keeping the city council from completely selling out to developers. Like many young people living in Austin, I hoped the rising cost of living wouldn’t force all our beloved tree huggers out of the city.

  I met Sabine by Barton Springs Pool, where we watched people swim in the seventy-degree waters fed by an underground spring. She had prepared a simple lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and a soft cheese that smelled almost as bad as the trolls but tasted delicious. When she offered me a glass of cider I declined, citing reasons of personal health and the risk of flashbacks from the night before.

  She snickered, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “So, this troll chick thinks you’re hot, huh? She’d better watch it, or Jesse’s going to be haunting her lumpy green ass.”

  I smiled, enjoying the way the sun lit her face—although I had to concentrate to see the “real” Sabine. The glamour she hid behind often made me see two images of her, one on top of the other, unless I focused on seeing just one. I preferred looking at the natural Sabine, not the mousy, frumpy girl she wanted everyone to see. But I did understand her reasons for hiding behind her magic.

  The real Sabine was supernaturally attractive, the result of her glaistig heritage. She was curvy in a pin-up model kind of way—with full lips, high cheek bones, sun-kissed skin, and freckles that dotted her cheeks. She hid behind that reverse-glamour because she was “top-heavy,” and to the fae she may as well have had a third eye. Fae were supposed to be lithe and graceful, and curves like hers were a decidedly human trait that was looked down upon as a mutation.

  Years of childhood teasing from both humans and fae had made her self-conscious—neurotically so, in fact. We’d met while we were both in therapy, crossing paths each week as I was leaving our therapist’s office and she was showing up. Since then, I’d been slowly helping her overcome her social anxiety. Outings like this were designed to help her acclimate to being around people.

  Her eyes sparkled as she laughed. I couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

  “Yes, Sabine, I gained an admirer last night. Just because she’s a troll doesn’t mean I’m not flattered.”

  “Dude, what are you going to do when she clubs you over the head and drags you off to her cave? You know they really do that, right?” Her expression went flat, and her smile vanished.

  “Stop—just stop. I know you’re bullshitting me, because if that were true you’d be dying of laughter right now. Besides, Finn already got me today with some joke about me getting musk-marked or something. Total bullshit, but he had me going for a while.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes grew big and round. “She musk-marked you? Oh, Colin—that’s not good, sweetie.”

  I narrowed my eyes and scowled at her. “That’s not funny, Sabine.”

  “I’m not laughing. For real, troll females like to—”

  The frantic screams of a woman standing by the water’s edge cut her off mid-sentence.

  “Help! Someone help me! It took my baby under!”

  We watched as the lifeguards dove into the water, swimming to the spot where the lady pointed. They dove down, only to come back up empty-handed.

  “They can’t see the kid—why can’t they see the kid?” I asked aloud. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not only was this a favorite hangout for the local human population; Barton Springs was also occupied by a number of water fae, and traditionally water fae were not friendly. Maeve mostly kept them in check—but with the fae, anything was possible.

  Sabine jumped up and down, grabbing my shoulder and pointing down the bank about fifty feet. “There!”

  I looked where she pointed and saw a splash as a dark, iridescent hoof broke the water. From the looks of it we were dealing with a water horse, and they were all nasty customers. None of the mundanes present would be able to see it if it didn’t want to be seen, so it was up to me to get the kid back.

  “Shit,” I muttered, tearing off my shirt and sprinting down the bank to the water’s edge. I ran past the gathering crowd as I hastily snapped off the words to an incantation that would increase my stamina. It wouldn’t allow me to breathe underwater, but it would increase the amount of time I could hold my breath.

  I dove off the bank and into the cold, clear water below. Once under, I swam as fast as I could to the spot where I’d seen that hoof break the surface. I finally spotted an aughisky diving into the pool’s depths, a terrified child on its back. Aughiskies were the most vicious of water horses, with a bloodthirstiness eclipsed only by the nuckalavee. They often appeared as a beautiful horse or pony, and those who saw the steed would be overtaken by a desire to climb on its back. But once mounted, the aughisky’s skin would magically adhere to the person wherever they touched it. Once the rider was trapped, the waterhorse would dive under and drown the hapless soul—at which point it would eat them.

  I knew of one or two aughisky that lived in L
ake Travis, outside Maeve’s demesne. They drowned a few people a year; not enough to garner any real notice, but enough to warrant being hunted down… if I still did that sort of thing. Whenever someone drowned in the lake and the body couldn’t immediately be found, it was likely a water horse. Why the Circle hadn’t done anything about them yet was anyone’s guess. I assumed they were too busy being assholes.

  This one had probably gone mad from hunger or old age, and foolishly strayed into Maeve’s territory out of spite. Maeve’s hunters would avenge the death of any human inside her lands. Not so much due to any moral code, but because she liked to keep things peaceful so humans didn’t discover the world beneath our own.

  Basically, this aughisky was committing suicide by Maeve.

  I cared little for whether or not some unseelie fae wanted to end its miserable life. But taking out a little boy in the process didn’t sit well with me at all. I put on some speed, kicking and stroking in a desperate attempt to catch them before they disappeared.

  The water horse was fast, but it had paused to check its prey, turning to see if the boy had lost consciousness yet. He had. I watched as the horse nipped at the boy’s arm, testing to see if he was finally out. I knew based on my first aid training that children could often survive drownings, if they received CPR in time. And the colder the water was, the more likely they were to survive. I kept low to the bottom of the pool as I swam closer, coming up to snatch the boy from the horse’s blind spot.

  As soon as I tugged on the kid’s arm, the water horse spun to see what had tried to steal its prey. When it saw me attempting to pull the boy off, it swung its head around and snapped at me with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Seeing a horse with a mouth full of barracuda teeth was more than a bit unsettling. Fortunately, I’d dealt with these creatures in the past—only on dry land, mind you, but I knew what to do.