by Clare Kauter
Luckily the Doomstone and his gang of buddies seemed to have my back, because a translucent mauve shield sprang up in front of me and deflected the ball of energy. In fact, not only was the energy deflected, but as it moved back towards Gladys, it changed, seemed to darken and solidify and – it turned purple. When it smacked her square in the face, she flew back and hit the ground hard, jolting as she lay on her back, jerking about as if she’d been electrocuted.
The ball didn’t stop there. It flew around the graveyard like a missile, taking out all enemies in its path and knocking down wolves like bowling pins. With the ball off on its mission, I turned to help Henry with the wolves and found him covered in bites in scratches. The sight filled me with rage, partly because I now knew that those scratches hurt like a bitch. I cast a stunning spell at the wolves (meaning a spell that stupefied them, not just, like, a really good spell) and sent them flying backwards.
Behind the wolves, I noticed that a number of the other dark magicals who’d shown up here for the human flesh barbecue were attempting to make their way to the boats to flee the island.
“Oh no you don’t,” I muttered and sprinted after them, passing Alora who had picked up the shovel and was batting wolves away from Daisy and Hecate.
“Nessa!” called Daisy, who was kneeling next to Hecate and trying to stem the bleeding from her wrists and hand. I ignored her and kept running.
When the would-be escapees took the stairs next to the castle leading down to the boats, I simply used my magic to push the guy at the back, who happened to be Fach, running off and leaving Gladys behind. And they say romance is dead. I pushed him a little harder than was strictly necessary and sent him flying forward, banging the vampire in front of him with such force that the entire group of escapees went down like dominoes, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. While they were subdued, limbs tangled, I bound them together with a rope of energy and hurried back to the graveyard.
When I arrived, I saw that not only had a good number of the wolves recovered, but they now had Henry, Hecate, Daisy and Alora circled. Say what you will about murder, at least it puts an end to the fight. I drew my palms together and focused my energy, making sure to concentrate on stunning the creatures of the night in the vicinity and not murdering them. When I was one hundred percent sure I had control over myself (well, eighty percent – OK, OK, sixty), I pulled my hands apart, stretching out the energy between them before turning my palms outwards and pushing them forward in a kind of ‘stop’ motion. I’ll tell you this, it certainly did stop them.
The energy that shot out of my palms was unlike anything I’d cast before. It was wibbly-wobbly and crackly and electric, and it moved through the graveyard like a tidal wave. It took down each and every wolf in its path, dropping them to the ground and causing them to jerk around like they’d been shocked by dodgy wiring or something. Gladys, who had just stopped twitching from her last impact, got hit with another few volts and went back to writhing around. They were all still breathing and a couple were groaning with pain, so I knew I hadn’t killed any.
My friends, in the centre of all these incapacitated wolves, were completely untouched. They looked mildly shocked at what had just transpired, but gradually a kind of calm fell over their faces. Well, the witches’ faces. Not Henry’s.
I was momentarily confused until I saw Ed standing some distance behind them, cone in hand. So he hadn’t left us after all. He pressed a finger to his lips in a ‘shush’ motion, pointed to the chest to remind me that I still had business here and then waved goodbye before popping out of existence. If he hadn’t left, then what exactly had he been doing a moment before when the rest of us had been fighting for our lives?
My answer to that question came almost instantly when a portal opened up to my right and Death himself, flanked by twenty local cops, stepped out. Seeing as I hadn’t killed anyone, I was guessing that Ed had called for backup. Unnecessary, as it turned out, but good for the cleanup. That would be mildly problematic for getting my hands on the companion item, however.
I looked over at the altar and found that Daisy and Hecate had beat me to the chest, which was no longer moving or illuminated from within. They were sifting through its contents, clearly trying to figure out what exactly in there was the companion item. Henry and I walked over to join them. We arrived just as Daisy took a blue stone from the box. It looked almost identical to the Doomstone, or at least how the Doomstone looked when other people touched it and it hadn’t activated.
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Alora, who was watching over Daisy’s shoulder. “I can see why the dragon was so sad to lose it. I’m sure he’ll be much happier now.”
“Now that it’s in good hands, yes,” said Hecate.
Alora frowned. “What? What do you mean?”
“The police will have to seize this box, of course.”
Alora was not impressed. “You can’t be serious!”
Daisy stood to comfort Alora, explaining that the police needed to seize it or it might fall into the wrong hands again. Henry helped Hecate to her feet, suggesting that they ask Death to conjure them up a portal back home. While the others were distracted, I took the opportunity to search the dragon’s chest for myself. You see, while the stone Daisy had found looked the part, I knew it wasn’t the right object. The companion was still in the chest.
The companion item Daisy and Hecate had in their possession must have pulled them towards the object in the chest, but unlike me the witches didn’t have the ability to tell which was the right object by touch. They’d seen the rock and thought it looked right, so they’d just assumed. Something in this chest was still calling to me, which meant that stone was a decoy.
I rifled around in the chest as quickly and quietly as I could, not wanting to risk drawing any attention to myself. The chest was filled with junk – old coins, bits of bone, rocks, smoothed shards of glass. Eventually my fingers brushed an object right in the bottom of the chest and a warmth ran through me. I’d found it. I moved my hand back to the object and closed my fingers around it. It was small and cold, and when I pulled it from the chest it took me a moment to recognised what it was. I turned it over a couple of times and concluded it was a rusty old arrowhead.
The moonlight caught an engraving on its side, so I spat and polished it with my shirt to see if I could read what it said.
Property of His Majesty, King of the Damned.
Finally I had a name.
Realising the police were coming my way, I stuffed the arrowhead in my pocket and stood, walking away calmly. As I did so, I caught sight of Hecate and Death deep in conversation across the cemetery, while Henry stood by them, watching me. He’d seen me take the arrowhead, and not for the first time I hoped I’d placed my trust in the right person.
CHAPTER 27
THE WHOLE ‘MAKING me a cop’ ceremony was, frankly, a bit of a letdown. It took place at the church during the daily meeting of the coven and although everyone was very supportive and nice about it, after all the build-up to me getting my licence, it felt like it should be more dramatic. After all, just joining the coven had involved a blood pact. It seemed like climbing the ranks deserved more than a handshake.
Henry was in the crowd, watching. He’d decided that life as an ambassador didn’t suit him. He made up something about the climate, but he and I both knew that he was back here to keep an eye on me. I didn’t mind. It was good to have someone on my side. Whatever side that was. Thanks to the secrecy spell, he still couldn’t tell me what I was, but that didn’t matter too much anymore. Now that I had a name, my research was going to be a lot easier. The second I had a spare moment (without Hecate breathing down my neck), I was going to head back to Hell and do some research in the restricted section of the library.
When Daisy handed me the small laminated card that I’d spent the last few months traipsing around this world and the next to obtain, I didn’t feel any sense of accomplishment. What I did feel was annoyance at th
e picture they’d chosen to put on it. Daisy had taken it when I’d just woken up from a nap after returning from Scotland. My eye was half-closed and judging from the glimmering patch on my chin, I’d been drooling. You’d think after all of this, she could have waited an hour or two until I’d woken up properly.
Alora was at the meeting too, standing quietly up the back. Everyone welcomed her and talked to her, and while she was polite enough, it was obvious that she was annoyed Hecate had confiscated the box the werewolves had stolen rather than return it to the dragon. She believed that the dragon was the rightful owner of the box. I suspected that wasn’t entirely true, however. After all, it wasn’t the dragon’s name carved on the arrowhead, was it?
After I was given my licence and we’d performed a few spells as a coven, it was time to mingle. I headed straight to the snacks table and grabbed a cucumber sandwich in one hand and a choc-chip cookie in the other. As I was standing there by the doorway stuffing my face, I caught sight of something shimmering outside. When I stepped forward to investigate, I saw a ghostly figure slip back into the forest and I followed.
It didn’t take long for me to catch up to Ed. He was sitting on a log, arms crossed, grin on his face.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I replied.
“You’re a cop now?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“A dirty one, obviously, seeing as you kill people and consort with known criminals. Oh, and you take banned substances.”
I rolled my eyes. “Taking the Dora wasn’t my idea.” I couldn’t exactly refute his other two claims, though.
“And I guess I’m your informant now?”
“You were already my informant.”
He smiled. “I should go,” he said. “And you should get back to your party.”
“Why did you come here?” I asked. “A little dangerous, don’t you think?”
“I had to see it for myself,” he said. “You getting your licence – and becoming a cop.”
“I didn’t have much choice.”
“It’s probably a good thing,” he said. “Much easier to cover up your crimes when you can be your own man on the inside.”
“Go to hell, Ed.”
“You’re welcome to visit me there any time,” he said. Then he popped out of existence. I frowned, wondering why he’d bother using so much energy to get to Hell when there was a portal nearby, and then I realised he’d probably just popped across the forest to the portal to make his exit more dramatic.
A breeze hit my face and I shivered, realising that I probably shouldn’t be out here with Pierre still on the prowl. He had a habit of tracking me down and while I’d managed to defeat him plenty of times before, that didn’t seem to deter him. Well, to be fair, I hadn’t actually managed to defeat him that many times – mostly it had been his girlfriend, Honey. Picking my way through the forest, heading back to the church, I frowned as I thought of her. It had been a while since I’d seen her – weeks, in fact – and something about that didn’t sit right with me.
Maybe I’d found my first case as a police officer. Good, something easy then. Just finding the girlfriend of a homicidal vampire magician determined to kill me. Nothing to worry about.
When I stepped out of the forest, Henry (in wolf form) was standing by the stairs.
“Evening,” I said. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He smiled and transformed into his human self. “Evening.”
“So, what’s The Department got you doing now?” I asked. “Spying on me?”
He shook his head. “No. They seem pretty satisfied that you’re not dangerous.”
“Really? Whatever gave them that idea?”
He nodded towards the church. “Testimony from a couple of witch cops, I believe.”
“Liars.”
He smirked. “Besides, would the kind of person they thought you were really join the police force?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. If they had ulterior motives. Which I don’t, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Do you think Hecate and Daisy are just worried that if they turn me in, I’ll turn them in for all the illegal shit I’ve seen them do?”
“It’s a definite possibility.”
“Mutually assured destruction.”
“Something like that.”
We fell silent for a moment, just listening to the eerie sound of the wind whistling through the eucalypts.
“Shall we head inside?” Henry asked.
I nodded. “Soon. I need some more of those choc-chip cookies in my life.”
He smiled. “It’s the lavender that really gives them that lift.”
“I should have known you were the one who baked them. They’re far too delicious to be anything Maude or Lavinia could come up with.”
“I could give you the recipe.”
“Or you could just keep making them for me.”
He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “You’re so demanding.”
“Before we do go back inside, Henry, I need to ask you something.”
He exhaled loudly before replying, “I thought this might be coming.”
“Do you know how your clouding spells were broken?”
“Yes.”
“Did I cause it?”
He hesitated. “You caused them to weaken, I believe.”
“Is that your opinion or did someone tell you that?”
“Someone told me that.”
“And was that the same someone who then removed the clouds completely?”
Henry looked pained, like he wished he could be anywhere but here. “Yes.”
“And that same person warned you not to turn me in.”
He sighed. “Yes, but I wouldn’t have anyway.”
I smiled, and Henry looked relieved for a moment. Then I asked the next question and his face fell.
“And who exactly was that person?”
The red light of the moon shone down on me, illuminating the cobblestone path under my feet. Using the portal in the Black Forest, I’d made my way to Hell. Ed had been surprisingly good-natured about me showing up unannounced and stepping out of the cupboard in his bedroom. Maybe the look in my eye had scared him. I hadn’t seen myself since Henry had delivered the news, but I felt like I was experiencing a full-body eye twitch of anger.
Rather than turn right at the next intersection and head up to the main strip of Hell where the library was located, I continued straight. I could research this King of the Damned business another time. Right now I sought answers of a different kind.
As I neared my destination, the moonlight grew dimmer and the stones underfoot grew slippery, slick with water. The air changed from its usual dry heat to an uncomfortable humidity and I stepped through the gates of the graveyard. At least, it looked like a graveyard. I still didn’t know if there were any actual bodies buried here, but it seemed unlikely. Why would anyone be buried in the afterlife? That didn’t make sense.
I took the cross country path across the grass to avoid the slick mossy deathtrap of the stone walkway. I’d been here enough times to know that going that way could lead to serious injury. Eventually I drew up to the crypt guarded by a large stone scythe. I slid my finger over the tip of the scythe, breaking the skin and causing a little blood to ooze out. When the blood made contact with the blade, the door slid open, inviting me into the home of the Grim Reaper.
Death had been the one to break Henry’s clouding spells, and I didn’t have a clue why. What stake did he have in this? Why did he care? Death must have gotten involved because there was something in it for him. He certainly hadn’t done it to help me.
So what the hell was he up to?
HEY THERE, LOVELY READER!
You’re looking mighty fine today. Have you done something with your hair?
I’m here to ask you a massive favour. In return, you’ll receive my eternal love and affection…
If you liked this book, will you please leave a review for
me?
OK, so you’ll get my eternal love and affection anyway, but I would appreciate it so much if you’d take the time to write just a sentence to let people know what you thought of the book. That way more people will be able to find it and read it, and I’ll be able to afford to pay rent. And eat. And boy, do I love to eat.
Eternally, lovingly and affectionately yours,
xx Clare
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ALSO BY CLARE KAUTER
DAMNED GIRL
Deadhead
Sled Head
Hell’s Belles
Loch Nessa
A Damned Girl Collection: Books 1-4
THE CHARLIE DAVIES MYSTERIES
Losing Your Head
Unfinished Sentence
Graceless
Higher Learning
Santa’s Little Helper
Undetected
A Charlie Davies Collection: Books 1-3
Short Fuse (Prequel Novella)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Clare Kauter is a semi-professional lawn bowls champion and compulsive liar who writes books in her spare time. She describes her books as “mystery with a twist-ery and fantasy with banter-sy” – and advises that if you don’t like puns, you should back away now.
