Hell Can Wait (Urban Fantasy) (Caith Morningstar Book 4)

by Celia Kyle

  “Help me with him.” Sorsha pushed to her feet and I followed, bending at the waist to heft the elf from the ground before we carried him to Sorsha’s van. We got him settled in the back, nestled under some warm blankets. The healer climbed behind the wheel and looked to me. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, I’ll come by later.” I nodded. “I need to clean things up here and do a little hunting.”

  She handed me the thermos with what remained of that nasty herbal concoction. “If you feel warm or dizzy, drink what’s left. And don’t be long. You may feel fine now, but this will spread quickly if it’s not treated fully. Understand?”

  The chick really had the doom and gloom thing down pat. I lightly pressed my hand to the bandage on my side. It hardly hurt, which made it hard to believe it was as bad as Sorsha said.

  But… I trusted her judgment. She’d helped me with Bryony in the past—making sure my kid lived through that whole crazed psycho possession thing. Plus, I knew how dangerous regular ghouls were.

  I nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  The healer jerked her head in a brisk nod and drove off, leaving me alone at the edge of the park. I stared at the rotting body in the distance. Boyd could send a few of his men out in hazmat suits to dispose of the mess. I dealt with elimination, not cleanup.

  I turned and retraced my steps back to the morgue. I needed to check on Jezze and see if she’d found anything in the wreckage. I moved slowly, trying not to aggravate my wound. It hardly stung, just a little cool to the touch, but the fact that it remained proved something was wrong. My body should have fought off the ghoul’s infection by now, but this creature had been far from normal.

  I headed around the building to the front entrance. I may have gotten out through a window but my bangin’ ass wasn’t going back through that glass.

  Boyd was still standing there, speaking to a couple of people dressed like they worked in the morgue. He frowned and looked at me. Then he glanced toward the darkened stairway to the basement—no doubt wondering how I’d gotten out without being noticed.

  His eyes widened as he took in the sight of my torn and bloodied clothing. “What happened? Did you get… it?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “I got it, but—“

  “No!” He waved his hands. “No buts. I can’t have any buts. I want this situation contained. Now.”

  And I wanted the world to finally accept that Elvis was living with Uncle Luc—Uncle Luc was a huge fan—but I didn’t always get what I wanted.

  I was worn out, my energy draining more and more with each passing moment, my patience was fading right along with it. “Look, Boyd—“ It took all of my strength not to call him Asshole instead of his name. “I’m not the one who opened this can of shit.”

  But I sure as fuck would find out who did. I only had four fucking rules in Orlando: order, secrecy, discretion, and no one fucks with me and mine.

  “But I’m working to get the lid back on it.”

  He glared at me, eyes narrowing. “Fine. Is the lid back on then?”

  I’d shove the lid up his ass in a minute.

  “I killed a ghoul, but it was already outside by the time we got here. It attacked someone.”

  He rubbed his cheek, palm scraping his scruff, deep in thought. “Someone?” He lifted his eyebrows. “Human or tween?”

  Motherfucker just had to make a distinction. He wouldn’t give a damn if I told him it was a tween. Tweens weren’t really his constituents.

  “I have one of my people on it, but we need to find out if there were more of them.” I jerked my head toward the people standing nearby. “Yo, you two, you got a record of corpses that were in the building today?”

  They exchanged a glance and then looked to Boyd. Once he nodded his permission, the guy on the left spoke. “We have records of all cadavers.”

  “Good. Get the list and check it against what’s left down there. You should only be short one body. If there’s more, we know there are more ghouls wandering around out there.”

  And infecting others, but I didn’t want to state the obvious. I also didn’t mention that the ghoul had been under the control of someone else. That was my jurisdiction, not Boyd’s. But I also knew there were probably more of those ghoulish assholes in the city even if they hadn’t come from this morgue.

  “Check the other hospitals in the area as well as funeral homes within…” I scrunched my nose. “Within fifty miles. Make sure there are no other disappearances.”

  Boyd nodded to the two humans and they hurried off, leaving me with the mayor once more. “You don’t think this is an isolated incident?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Better safe than sorry.”

  Jezze chose that moment to tromp up the stairs, purse slung over her shoulder. “Finished cleansing the bodies downstairs. We shouldn’t have any more of the walking undead cropping up from here tonight.”

  “Good.” I slowly nodded. “I bagged a ghoul outside. They’re gonna see if—“

  The room tilted and my vision blurred, the dim entryway going fuzzy. I listed to the right. Then I was surrounded by the scent of sage as small hands gripped my biceps. Jezze had caught me and was doing her best to hold me upright before I managed to topple to the ground. I shook my head and blinked hard, fighting to clear my vision.

  “Dude, Caith.” Jezze braced me, hitting my injured side as she steadied my body. I groaned with the nudge, pain flaring from the wound, and Jezze lifted my shirt. “What the hell?”

  I groaned again. “I think I need to get to Sorsha’s.”

  Unfortunately, when I said, “think,” I meant “right fucking now.”

  Jezze ducked and pulled my arm across her shoulders, supporting me while she turned us toward the door.

  Boyd—aka Asshole—hurried after us. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! You’re leaving? What about this… situation?”

  I could see a little better, but Boyd still looked like a blurry human beach ball. “Call me with a body count and we’ll get on it, but I need to know if there are more of those things out there first. I’m not hunting for something that doesn’t exist.”

  “And if there are?” Boyd wrung his hands.

  What part of “we’ll get on it” had the asshole not heard?

  Fuck, I was already the reigning Bitch Queen, but I was feeling bitchier than normal.

  I continued shuffling to the door, leaning on Jezze. “I’ll handle it.”

  Jezze led me to the SUV; Boyd’s whining a screechy record playing in the background. The witch helped me into the vehicle and then she scooted behind the wheel. It didn’t take long for her to get us on the road and heading toward Sorsha’s clinic. On the way, I filled Jezze in on what had happened at the park, including the ghoul’s blue-hued light show and its unusual intelligence.

  “Fuck,” Jezze cursed. “Sorcerer or necromancer?”

  “Not sure. I’m hoping it’s just a noob experimenting with dark magic and flexing his powers, which means he’ll burn himself out pretty quickly. But…”

  “But On High hates us and we’re never that lucky.”

  I grunted rather than correct her. I wouldn’t say On High hates us. Uncle Luc? Yes. Me? I feel like he gives off more of a cunty vibe in my direction.

  “I’ll work on a locator spell.” Jezze tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “The undead have a twisted necrotic energy. I should be able to track any others. If there are any others.”

  I snorted. “Something tells me there are. This was too weird to be an isolated incident.”

  “Plus, we’re never that lucky.”

  “Yeah, there’s that,” I agreed.

  When we reached Sorsha’s, a couple of her assistants came out with a wheelchair to help me inside. I hated showing any weakness by using the fucking thing, but since I couldn’t stand, I didn’t have much choice. Once we got inside, the healer directed us to a bedroom and the assistants helped me climb onto the soft mattress. She lit incense around the bed along with some sour-smelling
candles that had my wolf sneezing.

  “I hope that stuff is supposed to heal me,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting back another sneeze. “Because if that’s your idea of calming aromatherapy, we need to talk.”

  “Your aura needs to be cleansed,” Sorsha spoke but didn’t look at me, her attention on the rank candles. “There are several steps. This is just one. I’m already brewing another tea that should be ready soon. I made enough for you and the elven boy.”

  “How is he?” I closed my eyes and rested against the bed.

  The kid was lucky to be alive. If I’d arrived a minute later…

  “Stable.” Sorsha’s soft steps let me track her progress through the room. “The poisonous energy is in his blood. I need to make sure it doesn’t get a firm grasp in yours.”

  It looked like I’d be out of commission for a little while. I spent a few minutes with Jezze, going over what needed to be done to track any other ghouls in the area. She headed off with a promise to call when she had more information.

  Which left me to face the demanding healer.

  “How long until I can get out of here?” I cracked one eye, searching through the dim room for my friend.

  Sorsha came and stood over me. “I don’t know, but you need to rest. Don’t make me give you a sleeping draught.”

  “Part werewolf.” I snorted. As if that’d work.

  It was her turn to snort. “You think I haven’t treated werewolves in the past? Bless your heart.”

  Dammit, bless your heart was Southern for dumbass.

  I closed my eyes, ready to ignore her but I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep. I just needed the room to stop spinning.

  Right.

  Apparently, I couldn’t even lie to myself, because between one breath and the next, I was out cold.

  Chapter Three

  Twenty-four hours.

  Twenty. Four. Hours.

  Twen. Ty. Four. Hours.

  That’s how long my unhappy ass had to stay in Sorsha’s bed and it drove me crazy. Or rather, crazier. It depended on who was asked when it came to my mental state.

  Since I had five—yes, five—fathers and my mother was Satan’s sister… my “normal” was a leetle bit different than others.

  I received several more emergency calls from Mayor Boyd throughout the day, each one more frantic than the last. He insisted I do something about the attacks across the city. As I’d suspected, it hadn’t been an isolated incident.

  Remember? Not lucky.

  I assured him I had people on it. Specifically the local werewolf pack. Okay, I’d called Papa Al—the High Wolf of North America—and he’d told the werewolf pack to help. I had a bit of a history with the alpha, but more than eighty years had passed and the hatefire between us still hadn’t cooled.

  I’m immortal, and I’m also a bitch who knows how to hold a grudge.

  So, the pack patrolled the city, hunting for undead monsters, but Boyd wasn’t too accepting of my reassurances.

  “Have you located the source yet?” It was the same question he’d asked during the previous six conversations that day.

  “No,” I fought for a calm that was a fuck of a long way out of reach. “We’re looking into it.”

  “People are dying out there, Caith.”

  Too bad he wasn’t one of them.

  “I’m aware,” I snapped. Sorsha had the TV on in my room and I’d been watching the news all day. So far, Boyd had the police blaming the deaths on animal attacks. I’d never been so happy that an enemy had claws before.

  Boyd had also worked hard to keep his people in control of the investigations so no ignorant human got near the bodies. The less people knew about tweens, demons, and angels, the better. Plus, he was a politician. He was all about cover-ups and hiding dirty laundry. Or undead laundry in this case. Whatever.

  “Just do something about this,” the mayor whined. I generally had no problem with humans, but Boyd should die simply because his voice annoyed me. “I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t know how much longer I can keep the situation under my control. Do your job.”

  My wolf snarled and the darkness that came from my mother swirled deep within my chest. I’d show him a job.

  I breathed deeply and let it out slowly. I couldn’t get rid of the mayor. Yet. “Maybe I’d do a better job handling this situation if you weren’t bothering me with constant phone calls.”

  “Fine,” he snapped. I wanted to snap his neck. See? No patience. “Get to work.”

  He hung up and I let out an irritated sigh. It wasn’t as though I enjoyed being stuck in a bed. I wanted to investigate the situation myself, but every time I tried to stand I was overcome by vertigo and nausea. When Sorsha found me crawling across the floor toward the bathroom, I’d gotten a stern talking-to and a bedpan.

  A bedpan. Gross.

  My phone rang. Again. I closed my eyes and jabbed the screen to answer. I brought it to my ear and snarled. “What?”

  “Caith?” That deep murmur calmed me. Like dark chocolate with a hint of sin that reverberated in my soul. One syllable—one hint of his voice—and my wolf settled in an instant. My anger bled away and a blanket of calm settled over my body.

  That was how he affected me. Wholly. Completely.

  “Sam,” I sighed and relaxed further.

  “I just heard about what’s going on in Orlando. Are you okay?”

  That was my Sam—Samkiel, Angel of Destruction, Purifier of Souls and my mate. Well, my sort of mate. That whole mating process hadn’t quite gone according to plan. Yet. But that didn’t make my wolf crave him any less.

  Whether we were fully tied or not, his first concern was always for my safety. Sometimes I found it sweet. Other times it irritated the hell out of me. I wasn’t used to someone trying to protect me and sometimes I wanted to tell Sam that I could take care of my fucking self.

  Besides, I was over six hundred years old. I was pretty sure I had the whole “staying alive” thing handled.

  “I’m fine.” I wasn’t even mad at him. Mainly because my anger and frustration were directed at Sorsha and her staff. Even I only had so much rage to go around.

  “The news was unclear, but I got the impression that it’s more than animal attacks. What’s going on?”

  “Ghouls, but not just ghouls. It’s a bit weirder than that.” I explained everything we knew, but I skipped over the part about my magically tainted wound. If I told Sam about that, he’d rush to my side and that couldn’t happen. Not because I didn’t want my mate, but he was on the job.

  When we’d met, he’d been a half-fallen gel on his way down a dark path. A dark path that had fully taken him when he’d broken one of the big guy’s major rules. Thou shalt not kill.

  It all seemed so unfairly black and white. I mean, what about “thou shalt not kill unless the guy deserves it”?

  Because Sam had broken that one to help me save Bryony—my sweet, baby, Brownie boy. Sam had fallen from grace for Bry—for me.

  Now he was working to regain his place with On High, earning his redemption little by little. If things kept going the way they were, he might end up with a ticket home.

  I wanted that for him and yet didn’t, because if he did get that invitation back to Paradise, I couldn’t follow him. On High wouldn’t exactly open their gates for Satan’s niece. I also knew Sam didn’t want to leave me behind, and it bugged the shit out of me that it was me that was holding him here.

  He seemed more than willing to continue dancing the line between On High and the tween for my sake.

  I wasn’t comfortable with the price he had to pay to be with me, but I also wasn’t strong enough to send him away.

  Which was why I wasn’t about to let him walk out on his current mission and ruin his chances of earning a clean slate to come to Orlando and help me.

  “Do you need help? I can—“

  I shook my head emphatically. “No,” I cut him off before he could say what I knew was on his mind. I wasn’t c
lear on the details of his mission—something about protecting people and determining if they deserved absolution—but whatever his task, it was his job. Orlando was mine.

  “I’ll be fine.” I assured him. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Your job is important. I got this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  No. Of course, I’m Satan’s niece. Lying is what I do.

  “I’m sure. You do your thing. I’ll do mine.”

  The words tasted bitter on my tongue, the lie clouding my taste buds. I missed him more than I could have ever imagined but I refused to be selfish no matter how much I wanted to call him home.

  “All right,” he didn’t sound convinced. “If you’re sure.”

  Doubt lingered in his tone, but I knew my Sam. He’d stick his nose where it didn’t belong if he thought he was doing the right thing, but he wouldn’t push if I was insistent. Not unless he believed I was in serious danger.

  Which was another reason not to tell him about my wound, or that it had turned into my personal night light.

  “I’m sure.” I assured him again. “Go. Be the good guy. I’ll keep you up to date on things down here. Promise.” –ish.

  We said our farewells and as I ended the call I turned my attention back to the TV. Another body, this time outside one of the hotels that bordered the theme parks. Ugh. Boyd would have his panties in an even bigger bunch about this death. Anything that might deter tourists would have a serious impact on the local economy, and that was almost more important than the lives being lost.

  Sorsha entered a few minutes later, mixing a sweet-scented poultice in a small bowl. I pushed myself upright and tried to peer inside. One of the other remedies she had given me in the past had included crushed bugs and the bones of… something. I hadn’t wanted to know, but I wasn’t keen about a repeat.

  “You find one that works?”

  “It’s not a cure,” she lowered herself to the bed beside me, “but it should alleviate your symptoms for a while.”

  “Does that mean I get to go home?” I’d pray to On High if it got her to say yes.