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

by M. D. Massey

  “You know I’m just messing with you. Anyway, I figured you’d want an update on the case.”

  He tsked at me. “Mmm, yes. I hear you’ve been quite the little jailbird lately. But no worries, I’ll handle all your legal fees. Mr. Borovitz and I are old acquaintances.”

  “He mentioned as much, without giving specifics. Look, is there somewhere more private we can speak?”

  Suddenly all conversation in the room stopped, and a half-dozen pair of vampire eyes locked in on me all at once. I slowly scanned the room, feeling like a canary perched on a low ledge in a room full of hungry cats.

  Luther snapped his fingers, and they all went back to chatting amiably with each other, as if nothing had happened.

  “Don’t mind them. They’re just a bit protective of me right now.”

  “Meh, I don’t blame them. But I’d still rather speak in private.”

  “Come this way, then.” I followed him down a hall and into a nicely furnished study. The room was bright, airy, and offered a wonderful view of the street below. I began to speak, but Luther held up a finger as he shut the door. He flicked a switch on a small electronic device, and the room filled with white noise.

  I pointed at the sunlight streaming in through the window.

  “UV blocking glass. Same stuff they use in museums. I’m old enough that the small amount that seeps through doesn’t affect me.”

  He sat in a lovely white chair upholstered in violet fabric, and gestured that I should sit as well. “The room is soundproofed, and the machine screws up vampire hearing. Anything we say will be between us.”

  “Good to know. Alright, here’s the situation. I have no idea who this necromancer is, my prime suspect got killed last night, and right now every other lead I’ve followed has been a dead end. However, I have a reasonable suspicion that the necromancer we’ve been looking for is planning some sort of attack against Maeve.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “No. I tried, but I got blocked by her gatekeeper.”

  He interlaced his fingers in his lap. “Ah, the leannán sídhe. Yes, I’m familiar with her. You should watch yourself around that one, my boy.”

  Leannán sídhe meant “fairy lover,” but they were anything but. That kind were a sort of psychic vampire, similar to succubi. Their magic caused humans to fall madly and deeply in love with them, at which point the leannán sídhe would drain their life energies bit by bit, until their lover withered away and died of seemingly natural causes. In some cases, they’d even abandon their lovers out of spite, just to see them die of grief and loneliness.

  All in all, they were a nasty sort of fae. Suddenly, Siobhan made more sense to me. That still didn’t explain the magic she’d used, though. Unless she was older than she looked. Old fae studied magic like Feynman studied physics. The older they got, the more powerful they became.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured out on my own that she was bad news, but thanks for the heads up. Siobhan always hovers just on the edge of anything that might work against Maeve’s interests. Makes me wonder if she’s not involved with this mess somehow, orchestrating events behind the scenes.”

  Luther tapped his index fingers together. “It’s possible. The fae are nothing if not power hungry, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the younger bitch was nipping at the heels of her elder. But not to worry—I have ways of getting information to Maeve that circumvent her granddaughter. I’ll be sure she knows what you’ve discovered.”

  “Thanks, Luther. Other than that, there’s not much to tell.”

  He stared at me a moment and his eyes softened. It was the most human I’d seen him behave since this whole thing had begun.

  “Just be careful out there, Colin. Whoever this person is, if they have a vendetta against Maeve it may include you as well. You’ve become a pawn of sorts in that old faery queen’s schemes, and that puts you in the path of some very unkind and powerful individuals.”

  “Coming from you, Luther, I’ll take that as a dire warning.”

  “Well, a predator knows how to recognize others of its kind. But where vampires and the fae differ is that we vampires remember what it was like to be human. And some of us are still sentimental in that regard. The fae hold no such feeble ties to humanity, because they’ve never been human at all.”

  “I’ll be sure to watch my back.”

  He nodded. “You do that.”

  Luther walked me out of the room and to his front door.

  “I’ll keep you informed of any developments in the case. And thanks again for taking care of my tab with Borovitz.”

  “Pish posh, think nothing of it.” I turned to go, but halted as he spoke again. “Oh, and Colin?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s about time you got laid. Happiness looks good on you, kid.” His mouth held a barely suppressed grin as he shut the door.

  I leaned against the wall and looked up at the ceiling, cracking a smile. “Feels pretty good, too,” I muttered, pushing off the wall and heading to the cafe below.

  I was downstairs and ordering a coffee to go when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was local so I answered it.

  “Colin? Colin McCool?” the voice on the other end asked as I picked up.

  “Yup, the one and only.”

  “It’s Brandon. We met earlier, at the morgue. I work for Maeve.”

  “Ah, Mr. Wolf.”

  His voice took on a tone of disdain. “I’m fae, not pack, as anyone with any sense could plainly tell. Seriously, I don’t understand what Maeve sees in you.”

  “I wasn’t implying—it’s a reference to this movie—oh, never mind. What can I do for you, Brandon?”

  “Well, at least you remembered my name for two seconds. Maeve wanted me to inform you, one of her people got a tip on a ghoul sighting at a distillery downtown.” He rattled off an address. “I suggest you get over there quick, before the cops show—and don’t expect me to clean up your mess if you screw this up. I only handle morgue-related incidents, you know.”

  Brandon hung up on me before I could reply.

  “Freaking fae,” I muttered as I paid for my coffee, tipping the barista two bucks even though he probably made a lot more than I did. Despite Brandon’s snotty attitude, the lead he’d provided had lifted my spirits so I was feeling generous. And besides, I figured after Luther paid me for this job I’d be flush, for once. I sipped my coffee and speed-dialed Belladonna, burning my tongue as I did.

  “Son of a bitch!” I swore, with Belladonna answering on the last syllable.

  “I was wondering when you’d call. But if that’s your idea of an apology for the two-day wait, you’ve seriously got to work on your game.”

  “No, not you—shit, sorry, Bells. Both for the unintended insult, and for not calling you sooner.”

  Her husky laugh was music to my ears. “I suppose you had a good excuse, what with coming to my rescue and all. Such the white knight you are, sacrificing yourself like that. I should kick your ass for it, but it was so sweet of you that I’m giving you a pass. Next time, though, make sure you consult me before you martyr yourself on my behalf.”

  “Um, you’re welcome?”

  “I’ll thank you later. Now, what’s up?”

  I shook my head in confusion, because I realized I had no idea how to interact with Bells now that we’d slept together. Moreover, she’d managed to express anger, disappointment, gratitude, and sexual attraction, all in the span of a thirty second conversation. Suddenly, I realized I might be getting a lot more than I’d bargained for by taking our relationship beyond the friend zone.

  When in doubt, always deflect. That was the safe bet. I decided to play it cool by steering the conversation toward work, since that’s why I’d called in the first place.

  “I got a lead on our bad guy—or bad girl, depending on your preferred gender pronoun.”

  “Is that the only reason you called, because you got a lead on the case?”

  “Er—no?” I a
nswered in the form of a question, because I thought she’d told me I was off the hook for not calling earlier.

  She huffed into the phone, voice frustrated. “Just tell me where to meet you and when, and I’ll be there.”

  Yeah, I was totally screwed. “Say, fifteen minutes at the distillery on 4th Street?”

  Her voice was flat as she answered. “Not a problem. Meet you there in ten.” And she hung up.

  The guy behind the counter shook his head as he acknowledged my plight. “Doghouse, huh? That’s what happens when you sweat them too long. My sympathies, bro.”

  Apparently he’d been listening in on my conversation; he probably fell in the “other-than-human” category.

  “Yeah. Guess I’ll be stopping by the gun store later.”

  He looked at me like I was insane. “Dude, that’s harsh.”

  “Oh—no. I meant to buy something nice, to make it up to her. She likes guns, and knives, and stuff like that.”

  He smiled and nodded. “She’s a kinky one, eh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Belladonna was waiting for me when I pulled up in the alley behind the distillery. That told me she’d been speeding the whole way over, which boded ill for me. Best to just get this over with, I thought as I locked my helmet to the scooter.

  As I turned around, I was surprised to find that she’d snuck up behind me. Bells was right in my face, staring at me with an inscrutable expression. I froze, unsure of what was coming, and what—if anything—I might do to influence the outcome. Finally, she grabbed me by my coat and kissed me full on the mouth. It took a moment, but I reacted in kind after I realized she meant it.

  “Don’t ever do that again, alright?” she breathed as she released me. She made a show of straightening the collars on my jacket, brushing away imaginary lint from my chest.

  “I promise. The next time I go to jail it won’t be on your behalf.”

  Her mouth twisted into a wry grin, but she was working hard at being stern. “I’m serious, Colin. If you ended up doing jail time to save my hide, how do you think that’d make me feel?”

  “I appreciate your concern, Bells, but it worked out alright. Next time, I’ll do as you say and let you take the fall.”

  She scowled unconvincingly. “Smart ass.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “You’re lucky you’re a good-looking guy with a nice ass. Now, what’s the scoop here? Are we certain that our bad guy’s inside?”

  “All I know is that Maeve’s guy from the morgue called and said they got a tip our perp was here. I don’t think he likes me much, so he was a little vague on the details.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  At that moment, a scream came from inside.

  “There’s our cue.” I pulled out my war club. “You want to take point?”

  “Naw, you’ll need some room to swing that bad boy. I’ll cover you.”

  “Alright,” I replied. “Watch yourself.”

  I opened the back door to the distillery and headed inside, hoping like hell our necromancer was waiting for us.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Inside, the place had been trashed. There were smashed bottles of vodka and tequila everywhere, and drops of blood here and there as well. The fumes were overpowering.

  “What a waste,” Bells muttered under her breath, taking in the broken bottles and spilled liquor.

  We heard another, more urgent scream. I quickened my pace as we cleared the warehouse area, entering an adjacent room with high ceilings and tall, stainless-steel vats. One of them sported a body-shaped dent, blood smeared in the depression. That vat had leaked a sizable amount of raw, unmixed liquor, and the fumes were nearly unbearable. We hurried through the room, holding our breath as we passed the alcohol spill.

  “Things aren’t looking good for whoever the ghoul found in here,” I remarked. Thus far we hadn’t seen any bodies. I knew it was unlikely, but I was holding out hope the victim had escaped.

  We turned down a hall that led to what I assumed would be the front entrance of the building, only to find a large steel door chained shut. I heard a door slam behind us, and realized what was happening.

  “They’re locking us in. Run!” I bolted for the back entrance, only to find it secured in like manner, with a heavy tow chain and an industrial case-hardened lock barring our exit.

  I looked around frantically for another exit and spotted a few high windows to our left. One stood out in the far corner of the warehouse, where a large figure balanced on the ledge. It held a lit Molotov cocktail, tossing it in a high arc in our direction.

  I tackled Belladonna out of the way. The bottle shattered behind us, spreading liquid fire everywhere. I looked up, but the figure had fled out the window. I was sure it was the super-ghoul I’d tangled with at the morgue, likely being controlled directly by the necromancer from somewhere close by.

  I rolled off Belladonna and pulled her to her feet. “Sorry, but there was no time to warn you.”

  She gave me a look that said apologies were unnecessary. “Save it for later—we need to get out of here before the fire hits that mess next door.”

  The flames had spread quickly. The place was basically a brick box filled with flammable liquids. In every direction, crates, boxes, and furniture went up in flames. Thankfully, the high ceiling meant we were in no immediate danger of smoke inhalation, but Belladonna was right; we had little time to spare before bad things started to happen.

  A puddle of liquor had seeped under the swinging metal doors that led to the distilling area. In moments, it would catch fire and we’d be toast.

  Belladonna’s eyes scanned the area frantically. “Druid boy, you’d better have a plan to get us out of here, because I’m all out of options at the moment!”

  The fire cut off any other route of escape, and there was no other exit in sight. I could have picked the lock on the door with a cantrip, but we were cut off from those doors now as well. Even the high windows where the ghoul had escaped were out of reach. If I boosted Belladonna up on my hands cheerleader style, she still wouldn’t make it.

  As the heat became unbearable, flames licking at us from every direction, I spotted an opening.

  “This way!” I shouted, grabbing Belladonna by the arm to pull her along with me, ducking around flaming boxes and debris as I ran into a hall along the rear wall.

  Bells looked at me skeptically. “You can’t use a spell or a grenade. The blast would kill us both.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t need to—step back and give me some room.”

  “I swear, if you blow me up, I’m kicking your ass.”

  I ignored her nervous attempt at false bravado, and placed my fingers on the wall. I reached out with my senses to feel the brick and mortar, much as I used my magic to sense what was wrong with vehicles back at the junkyard.

  There.

  I reared back with my war club, swinging with all my might at the weakness I’d sensed in the wall. As the club struck, a shock wave emanated from the point of impact, paired with an ear-shattering thunder-clap. The wall practically exploded outward, leaving a jagged hole approximately five feet in diameter.

  My ears were ringing and I felt like I’d been standing next to a flash bang grenade as it went off—dazed and confused. Belladonna’s lips were moving but I couldn’t hear what she said. She was pointing behind her and then at the hole in the wall. Finally, she threw her hands up in the air in frustration. She pushed me hard with both hands, right through the hole I’d just made.

  At that exact moment, the distillery went up in a ball of flames. I went airborne as the pressure wave threw me backwards across the alley. As if in slow motion, I watched as Bells spun in rag-doll fashion through the jagged opening behind me. I impacted something solid and unyielding as I landed, and everything went black.

  I came to, groggy and with my ears still ringing. Bells was leaning on a garbage dumpster holding her side, but she appear
ed to be in one piece. I stumbled to my feet and staggered to her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked in what I imagined was a shout.

  She nodded. “Just a little banged up.” I could hear her, but her voice sounded muffled. I started to fuss over her, but she shook her head. “No time for that—we need to figure out where that damned ghoul went. It’ll lead us to its master, and I intend to tear that asshole apart with my bare hands.”

  I nodded and relented. “Give me a moment.” I dug around in my bag and found a couple bottles of water, handing her one and chugging the other. Our clothing was slightly charred and we were both bruised up, but a quick check told me I still had all four limbs and most of my IQ. I’d have a heck of a lump on my head soon, and I’d be sore as hell—but I was otherwise mostly undamaged.

  Collecting myself, I cast a cantrip and began sniffing around the alley. Ghouls smelled hellaciously bad, almost as bad as trolls. I knew if I could catch its scent, it’d give us a direction in which to track it. I caught a whiff of decay and rot at the west end of the alley, and signaled Bells with a whistle and a wave. Reluctantly, she pushed off the dumpster and followed me.

  Bells and I tracked the ghoul on foot for a few blocks, until the trail took us down an alley behind a row of bars and restaurants. I didn’t hear any shouts or cries for help, and I didn’t see any broken windows in any of the buildings either. We moved on, following the scent and keeping an eye out in case of an ambush. The whine of sirens made me stop and look behind us. Smoke filled the sky as it poured from the distillery, and the sounds of emergency vehicles approaching told me we’d best keep moving.

  Halfway down the alley, I found the first sign of something amiss. The strong scent of decay had led me to the remains of a cat behind a dumpster. The undead would eat anything that moved—if an unsuspecting cat were to get close enough, a zombie or ghoul would definitely have them for a snack.

  I checked the cat’s body to make certain it hadn’t been the victim of coyotes or stray dogs, and found human teeth marks on the corpse. From the looks of it, the animal’s neck had been cleanly broken, so at least it hadn’t suffered. Definitely a ghoul. The kill was old, maybe a day or so. That told me the ghoul had come this way before. We were just a few blocks from Hemi’s work, and I wondered if it had been hiding under our noses all along.