Sarge was in the back seat with his arms wrapped over his head. “I can’t hear you! This isn’t real!”
So they were both being affected by these things, and I had to hurry my butt up.
Drawing a circle around a beasty was pretty simple if my memory served me right. Usually chalk was used, salt would be better, but I had my knife and it was sharp and I had no doubt it would dig into the ground.
I bent at the waist and put the tip of the knife to the pavement and ran around the backside of the car as quickly as I could, as one of the wraiths turned and followed me, up to the front and down the other side until the blade touched where I started. The circle was etched clearly into the pavement, and it took me a split second to stand and snap out the closest thing to a spell I had at the front of my brain.
“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!”
The four wraiths turned as a unit to look at me, Corb opening his eyes to stare in apparent bafflement, and even Sarge leaned out of the window with his brows furrowed.
“What the hell? That isn’t a spell to contain anything!” He twisted his head to the side, for all the world like a large dog.
“I don’t know!” I yelled as the wraiths floated toward me, going right over the damn circle I’d made because, of course, it wasn’t complete without a proper spell. “It was the first thing I thought of!”
A hand clamped on my arm and I was yanked backward by Feish. “Maybe I was wrong. I think you do need me more than Boss.”
Feish tugged me again, and we were off and running away from the gas station, down the side of the road.
Running. Limping running.
The bane of my existence, and yet I always seemed to be doing it. “Feish, we can’t run forever!”
“I know you can’t. But we need a better place to stand our ground.” She seemed to be searching for something in particular.
I grimaced and dared to glance back. All four wraiths were following us, keeping pace with their long weird stick legs, each step covering ground like they were freaking giraffes. Dead giraffes with giant black bug eyes that reflected the lights off the gas station. Their deep gray coloring matched the mist that spooled up around their legs and seemed to carry them along. They wore tight fitted clothes that only accentuated their inhuman appearance.
Those solid, black bug eyes locked on me from their spindly heads, and it was all I could do to rip my gaze away. Something about them drew me to stare hard into their eyes and, call me crazy, but that seemed like a very bad idea.
Feish suddenly pulled me hard to the left, away from the road and into the bush. “Feish, this will slow us down!” I gasped out as I stumbled over a lump of vegetation. She only paused long enough to yank me back onto my feet.
“Them too! They all gangly goofs, they will fall too,” she threw back at me. “Come on, hurry!”
The rev of the Mustang’s engine caught my ears, and I fought the urge to turn back and check on the guys and Kink. The wraiths were too close for me to risk it. My hip bag bounced hard, and Alan grumbled something about being left alone in peace and quiet. I thumped the bag once for good measure. The last thing I needed was for him to fly out and distract me.
The brush around us was alive with the sounds of bugs and the smell of growing things, the heat pulling on my limbs as if it were an actual weight.
“Here, here! I thought I smelled it!” Feish yelled as she gave my hand another sharp tug. We tumbled out of the long brush that had been tangling around my legs and into an open space. I picked up speed, stumbled over a stone, and went to my knees.
The ground seemed to pull my hands down into the sod, trapping me there. “Feish! I’m stuck!”
My hands were being pulled farther down, and in a matter of seconds, I was—impossibly—almost armpit deep in the ground, my hands above my head. Quicksand? But that wasn’t possible. There was no quicksand in Alabama!
Both my amulet and Louis’s heated as the talismans fought off the spell that was softening the ground and sucking me under. A spell to trap me in the ground, to keep me in one place and easier for killing.
The wraiths behind us let out a wail, like hunting dogs on the scent of their prey, and by the time I looked up, they had me encircled, bug eyes and freaky giraffe legs stalking around me.
My knees began to sink further, pulling my lower half down. I fought the hold of the earth, terror quickly silencing any smart-ass comment that might want to slip past my lips.
The wraiths did what I’d been trying to do. They drew a circle around me and them, using their long, spindly fingers in the dirt, and cut Feish out with a speed that caught us both by surprise. A wall of mist spilled up around us, mimicking the mist on the wraiths’ lower limbs. I could just see Feish on the other side of it.
Oh man, was I ducked.
Feish battered at the wall of mist with her webbed hands, and a moment later, Corb joined her. “Hang on, Bree, we’ll get you out!” he yelled. He was there then gone, the mist blocking my view of him.
I was inside the circle, and most of my friends were on the outside.
But not all of them.
“Robert!” I yelled for my skeleton friend, jammed one hand into the soft earth and dragged my bag up out of the ground at a frantic pace, jerking the bag hard in case it got stuck on a root or something. Almost crying with frustration, I yanked and tugged until it was free even as I continued to sink. “Robert! I could use some help here!”
I expected he’d show up, swaying and growling friend at me, and drive away the wraiths. That was what I’d hoped for anyway.
What I got was Robert as he had been in the demon home next door to Gran’s house, human-looking and totally giving me a WTF did you do now? look.
8
Robert was tall, and the hair that was dull and unkempt in his skeleton form was now long, dark, and glossy, pulled back in a leather binding so nothing hindered my view of his icy blue eyes. He held his hands palms up as he looked down at me, confusion written all over his features.
Yes, I was stuck in the ground and I had wraiths all around me. “I know!”
He arched a dark slash of an eyebrow at me. “Seriously, again? How are you doing this? And how do you get in so much trouble? Even I wasn’t this bad!”
“Gawd, if only I knew, I’d stop!” I yelped as one of the wraiths reached down and brushed long, spindly fingers across my arm. The touch burned like ice on fire, and I couldn’t help the scream that ripped out of my mouth. “Hot potato, man! Help me!”
Robert twisted around as I screamed, opened his mouth and was back to his skeletal self in a flash of light. Some kind of magic washed over me, warm and comforting like a blanket’s embrace, washing away the pain of the wraith’s touch and loosening the earth’s hold on me.
The wraiths were there, and then in a blink they were gone as if they had never been. But I’d done nothing, and as far as I could tell, no one else had done anything either.
I struggled upward, the barrier gone along with the wraiths, and then Corb was pulling me out of the ground and into his arms. I stood there with him, breathing hard, not quite sure what happened, my arm still throbbing.
“Why did they just disappear? Not that I’m complaining.” I twisted around, looking for the tall, stick-figure wraiths. Sarge and Robert stood to the side with Feish, all three shaking their heads.
Movement behind us caught my attention. I turned and saw an old woman working her way toward us between the headstones, following a path I couldn’t see. She was bent at the waist, leaning hard on a walking stick, and her hair was braided back in a thousand little braids that had different beads and bits of ribbons tied onto the ends. Some of them were bone white, a striking contrast to her deeply darkened skin. I wasn’t sure if she was someone to be worried about or not. I’d met some mean old ladies who I wouldn’t want to cross again, no matter that they were twice my age.
Then it hit me that we stood on top of graves, surrounded by headstones. Shit, we were in a
cemetery? I looked at Feish. “Why did you bring us here? We had dead things coming for us, and you brought us to a boneyard?”
She shrugged. “You have an affinity for the dead. Boss said get you to graveyard if you get in trouble. And look, here we are. In trouble again. But now safe.”
The tapping of the lady’s walking stick on stone turned my eyes to our . . . what to call her? Hostess? Savior? Enemy?
“Hello?” I said. “Did you do this? Did you bring the wraiths down on us?”
She answered my question with one of her own. “What you doing here in Alabama, Bree? Your gran would have your hide and then some if she knew you’d come this way.” She’d rested her walking stick on one of the flat gravestones, and I just stared at her for a moment. Trying to place her. Because she spoke to me as if she knew me and Gran. Hell, she’d even used my name.
Memories bubbled under the surface of my mind again, more insistent. Was this woman why I’d wanted to be on this side of the highway?
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Course, you do, though maybe it’s been a few years and neither of us look like we did twenty-five years ago. Hell on fire, who does?” she huffed at me and tapped her stick twice on the stone at her feet. “What you doing with wraiths chasing you?”
I opened my mouth to say I didn’t know, but Feish cut in before I could get it out.
“She been accused of murder. They tried to execute her, but we got her out of the jail, and now wraiths after her,” she said. “Trouble follows her, you know.”
Kinkly made an appearance then, covered in what looked like pink powdered sugar that dusted into the air with each beat of her gossamer wings. “What did I miss? There was an open bag of candy at the gas station. I couldn’t help myself. I think I might be a little drunk.” And then she giggled.
I sighed and stood, pushing Corb back a little, and nodded at the woman leaning on her walking stick. “Thank you for your help. Assuming you’re the one who sent the wraiths packing?”
The old woman smiled and waved her walking stick in my direction. “It’s nothing to me to knock a few wraiths back on my own land, I’ve been protecting it for years. But they know better than to come into my territory, which tells me you have someone powerful after you. The wraiths didn’t realize where they were, girl.” Her eyes narrowed as she swept her gaze up and down my body. Assessing. “You know what your gran was after, what got her killed in NOLA, don’t you?”
She could have knocked me down with a feather at that point. I struggled to breathe around the shock, trying to find my voice. “You know what she was doing? What got her killed?”
“Course, I do. I don’t have all the pieces, but I know what she was after. Same thing that got your mama and daddy killed too.” She tapped her stick a couple times on the stone. “You think ’cause I’m old I can’t help?”
“Nope. I do not think that at all,” I said. “But are you going to tell me what they were after, or is it going to be some riddle or half-truth that I have to figure out because the shadow world does not give its secrets easily or some garbage like that?” I didn’t even bother to lift one eyebrow, skipping straight to raising both.
Her smile was wide, and she flashed perfect white teeth at me. “My name is Penny, and I am one of the last of Celia’s coven.”
And just like that, the memories finally surfaced. A twenty-five-year-younger Penny having tea with my grandmother in this very graveyard while I wandered about looking at gravestones, touching each one as if I could memorize them. I could almost feel the rough stone under my fingers again, could almost hear my grandmother’s laughter as she and Penny talked about this and that, things that had seemed inconsequential at the time.
“Penny Hannington?” Corb said her name in an almost reverent way, which told me two things. She was well known in the shadow world, and she was powerful. But I could have guessed that part anyway. Gran had been powerful too, and Penny had said she was in her coven.
She gave a genteel nod of her head and curled one hand into a sweeping wave as she did a mock curtsey that obviously cost her some effort and was stiff as hell. I was impressed. “The one and only. Most people think I’m dead, but I’ve just kept a low profile. Especially with all my friends dying.” She leaned heavily on her stick and narrowed her eyes on me, sharp as knives. “You killed Hattie, didn’t you?”
I nodded slowly, reluctantly. “Yes, she was going to sacrifice a bigfoot to raise some sort of demon. And she tried to finish me off in the midst of it.”
Penny sighed and rubbed at her chin with her free hand. “Could be she needed his heart’s blood. Potent stuff that, and it plays a significant role in several of the most powerful spells that I know of. Hattie would never have been strong enough to make a spell like that happen on her own. Likely she was working with or for someone else. A stronger witch, or warlock. She wasn’t one to come up with ideas on her own.”
I didn’t look at Corb, but he’d been working with Hattie undercover for the council, and maybe he’d learned a thing or two about her plan he hadn’t shared with us yet. I waited for him to say something, and grimaced when he didn’t. “That’s a guess I’ve had too. But . . . Penny, what was it that got my gran and my mom killed? I know they were killed by the same kind of creature.”
“Same as me,” Alan grumbled from my bag.
Penny tipped her head and looked at my hip. “That I don’t know, not any more than you apparently.” She paused, “Who is that in there?”
“Ex-husband,” I said. “He was killed in the same manner as Gran.”
Penny gave a short, sharp laugh. “Good place to keep one of them. In a bag that is. Ex-husbands can be a right pain if you don’t bury the body deep enough.” She snorted and the mirth fled quickly. “It’s a story I’ve got for you, so you should come to my place. You can stay for what remains of the night. It may help you throw off some of those looking for you. My place here has a tendency to repel those who mean harm, and draw in travelers who are looking for help.”
With that, she turned and limped away, leaning heavily on her walking stick. I looked at my friends, and Sarge was the first to nod. “She’s a good one. She smells right. I trust her. Besides, we easily outnumber her.”
Kinkly fluttered about and settled herself on top of my head. “I’m tired, so whatever you want.”
Feish shrugged. “Fine by me. Another woman means we outnumber the men.”
I started after Penny, avoiding the graves wherever possible. Glancing at Robert, I wondered what he thought. “Robert? A penny for your thoughts?”
“Friend,” he whispered softly.
Good enough for me.
Penny had gotten rid of the wraiths, so that had to count for something, on top of her history with me and Gran. And I remembered her. Gran had been happy and smiling in the graveyard that day. She’d liked Penny.
My memories of Gran had brought me to this place, to Penny. I couldn’t discount that.
Then again, Gran’s other friend, Hattie, had tried to kill me, and a third friend, Missy, was a right bitch. While I had no proof, I had a niggling feeling she was somehow involved in Gran’s abduction by the master of the (now dead) blood-born demon in the Sorrel-Weed House.
Which meant Missy was on my shit list.
Which also meant I needed to be careful with Penny. Besides, even if she’d been a peach twenty-five years ago, people changed.
“We won’t stay long,” I said. “No point in bringing the heat down on you if we don’t have to.”
Penny wove through the grass that had grown up between the grave markers, some large and ornate, others low to the ground and perfect ankle twisters. But I didn’t have to worry about tripping if I followed in Penny’s footsteps: a well-worn path wove between the graves as if she walked it multiple times a day.
Another bit of memory rolled forward—that was how she kept the spells protecting her and her place intact. She walked this way daily, refreshing them the same way Gran h
ad weeded and fed her garden to keep her house safe from evil.
We circled to the far side of the cemetery, and a small house appeared in front of my eyes, wavering into existence like a mirage in the desert.
“I keep it shaded from the eyes of the world,” Penny said over her shoulder. “I like my peace and quiet. Only those who truly need help can find me.”
The house had two stories, and I idly wondered if she was able to get to the second floor anymore given the way her limbs and body were bent. Penny grabbed the balustrade next to the stairs and pulled herself up the two stairs to the porch. A few more steps, and she turned and sank into a thickly padded chair. “There, that is much better. Now, sit and I will tell you what I know, and then you can make an informed decision. No more of this guessing shit.”
I took the steps quickly and grabbed a wicker chair to her left, pulling it around. And that was when I realized that Penny and I were alone.
My friends were nowhere to be seen. “Where are they?” I stood and stared into the yard.
“They can wait out there.” She waved a hand. “To them, you’ll be gone for just a blink, but we’ll have time to chat a bit without intrusion. It’ll be easier to speak freely if you have just me to worry about.”
That made me frown and pause from my looking for my friends. “What are you saying? Who should I be worried about in my group?”
She snapped her fingers and a teapot and two cups materialized on the table next to her. “I feel like a little tea to get us started.”
Penny poured herself a mug and then reached under the table and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, uncapped it, and sent a goodly amount into her tea. More than two shots worth.
I liked her already.
Midlife Ghost Hunter: A Paranormal Women's Fiction (The Forty Proof Series Book 4) Page 7
