Vampire Campfire (Damned Girl Book 5)

by Clare Kauter

  “In Hell?”

  “Yeah.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “And where exactly does it lead?”

  My stomach tensed. I’d been hoping he’d neglect to ask that. “It… uh…”

  “Nessa?”

  “It’s in Ed’s bedroom closet,” I blurted.

  Henry was silent for a moment. I studied his face but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Had he not heard me?

  “Henry?”

  “Ed’s bedroom.”

  I swallowed. “Yep.”

  “This isn’t good.”

  I sighed exasperatedly. “I know he’s a wanted criminal and a murderer and, you know, an all-round slimeball, Henry, but that crack is really useful. I wasn’t going there for a social call. It’s not like Ed’s a friend of mine – he’s barely an acquaintance. If I could afford to arrest him and lock him up forever, I would.” Probably. “I –”

  “This isn’t about Ed,” said Henry. “For once, he’s not the part that’s worrying me. New cracks don’t just open up.”

  I shrugged. “Apparently they do.”

  He shook his head and gave me an intense look. “They don’t.”

  I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. “OK, so what are you saying? You think Ed opened it up on purpose?”

  Henry shook his head. “No. There’s no way he’s powerful enough for that. Portals can only be opened by Satan and Death and other Concepts, plus angels and demigods and…”

  “And?”

  “And, apparently, whatever you are.”

  I crossed my arms. “Are you accusing me of something? Because I can assure you that I played no part in –”

  “I didn’t mean you’d done it intentionally,” said Henry. “Think about it. A crack opened up connecting your forest to Ed’s bedroom. It has to be related to your powers.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Great! So now my freaky magical radiation is opening cracks between me and my worst enemy willy-nilly? Just what I need!”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Ed’s your worst enemy?”

  “You’re focusing on the wrong part of the story here, Henry.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “You’re right. This is big news. First you started breaking clouding spells, and now you’re breaking reality.”

  “Oh, OK, Henry,” I said. “That’s a little far. Breaking reality? I put one tiny crack in it. Stop being so melodramatic.”

  “It’s a big deal.”

  “You’re panicking unnecessarily,” I said, hoping I was right.

  He shook his head, looking down at the ground before turning back to me. “Even if that’s true, I think you and I should keep an eye on Ed’s crack just in case.”

  I grimaced and Henry’s face mirrored my own disgust as he realised what he’d said.

  “We need to give it a better name.”

  Henry nodded his agreement. “So, forgetting momentarily about this monumental thing you neglected to tell me,” he said, “you went to Hell last night.”

  I nodded.

  “Stepped through a portal right into Ed’s bedroom.”

  I nodded again. “And then I saw Ed.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Who was in bed with a demon.”

  Henry’s mouth dropped open and he made a ‘that’s gross’ face.

  “Wow,” he said. “Ed’s stooped to new lows.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “Jealous?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, of course. You know how attracted I am to demons.”

  For the first time since I’d told him about the crack, his face split into a grin.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said. “I just thought you’d be annoyed because the portal leads to Ed’s house.”

  “Why would that annoy me?” Henry said flatly.

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask for the crack to appear there.”

  “It does rather imply that there’s some sort of connection between you and Ed,” said Henry.

  “Maybe it’s my overwhelming desire to murder him.”

  “He’s already dead.”

  “So I’ll bring him back and then murder him. Apparently that’s in my skill set, right?”

  When we’d been in Scotland recently looking for a witch who disappeared while studying Nessie, we attended a ceremony where a pack of werewolves tried to bring their ghostly ancestors back from beyond the grave by summoning me to raise them from the dead. Of course, I had no idea how I was supposed to do that, but I’d always been skilled at necromancy. Bringing people back to life wasn’t that far off. (I wasn’t sure I wanted to get into that, though – I couldn’t imagine Satan or Death would be all that thrilled about me nicking their souls.)

  “Next time you go to Hell, I want to come with you,” Henry announced.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re just worried about me spending time alone with Ed, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Chapter 11

  By now we were nearly in Gretchen, so we decided to abandon our current topic of conversation. You never knew who was listening in around here. As we drew up to the bookshop, I checked the time on my phone. We were early and Ravi wouldn’t be here for another fifteen minutes.

  “I’m going to have a look in the bookshop,” I said.

  Henry frowned. “What for?”

  I was already walking away from him and pretended I hadn’t heard him properly. “I’ll get a coffee when I’m done, thanks! You just get one for yourself!” I called out to him.

  I’d been considering asking Henry if there was a reason I hadn’t been able to find anything in the restricted section of the library – perhaps he’d know if Death or Satan were trying to keep something from me about the king. (Like everything.) Then it occurred to me that if he knew, he’d have to be in on it. He was working for Death, after all. Sure, he was my friend, but he wasn’t likely to tell me something that would upset the Grim Reaper, was he?

  I crossed from the bustling cafe part of the shop into the bookstore, which was dimly lit and had far fewer patrons. The windows in here were old and small and facing in the wrong direction so hardly any natural light came into the room. There were some candles burning about the place, which seemed kind of dangerous in a bookstore, but whatever. They were wintry scented candles – Alpining For You and Snow Regrets, if I had to guess.

  I looked around at the shop’s other patrons. There were only three other people in here. Two were witches, looking at the bulk-buy herbs. (The bookstore carried some magical supplies, but there were usually better deals in the next town over – not that I’d mention that to Hecate.)

  The other customer was a creature of the night, although he looked human. I wasn’t familiar with his type of energy, but that wasn’t uncommon. There were thousands of different types of magicals, and while I knew the common ones, I hadn’t met every different variety of magical being in existence. He was perusing the spell books, specifically the light magic section. That was interesting. Generally dark magicals weren’t into light spells, but apparently this guy was. Maybe he was a university student studying different forms of magic. I was curious, but I didn’t have time to watch him or speak to him today.

  I slunk over to the history section, which was right next to the darker spell books. There weren’t that many of those – Hecate didn’t like to stock them because she thought they encouraged bad behaviour, but they were the ones the tourists always bought so she kept a few around. I checked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching me as I began to scan the titles of the history books. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for, but I knew I had to hurry. I didn’t want any of the other witches from the coven catching me looking up information about the King of the Damned. There seemed to be plenty of people who suspected I was the king reincarnate already, although I had no idea how they knew. I was worried that if anyone saw me looking through these books they might
put two and two together and get Psycho King of Death and Human Sacrifice (or some such thing).

  Running my finger along the spines of the books, I searched for something that sounded like it might hold the information I sought. I pulled out a couple of different titles and flipped through, but no luck. Suddenly I heard a voice from behind me. I jumped at the noise.

  “Can I help you?”

  I turned around, finding the barista who hated me. What was her name again? You know, the one who made the delicious spit lattes. Right, Rainbow. Naturally. “Ah, no. I’m fine, thanks.”

  “I know you haven’t actually worked any shifts here, so I thought you might have trouble finding your way around.”

  Yeesh. She really didn’t like me. I turned back to the shelf and said, “Oh, I was just looking for – ah, found it!” I pulled a random book from the dark magic section and held it up, showing her the title. Her eyes widened and she gulped as she read the cover. Oh Satan. What had I picked up?

  “Would you like me to ring it up for you?” she squeaked.

  “Sure,” I said, handing it to her.

  She took it gingerly and scurried away, seeming to be trying to put as much space between us as possible. She hurried behind the counter and made her way to the till. I paid her the money and while she was counting out my change I risked a glance down at the book’s cover. I grimaced as I read the title. The Art Of Death & Murder. No wonder she was so concerned.

  “Actually, can I grab a hazelnut soy as well? I’ve got my own cup here.” I rifled through my backpack and handed her the mug. While she was frothing the milk, I picked up the paper bag containing my book and looked around for Henry. I spotted him outside and turned back to the barista, watching her closely to make sure she didn’t get any ideas from the book she’d just sold me.

  Once I’d collected my coffee, I headed out to meet Henry who was already holding his own coffee. Henry frowned, gesturing to the brown paper bag with my book inside. “Were you buying research material?”

  I bit my lip, wondering how much I should explain to him. I decided that after everything I’d kept from him, I should probably open with the truth just this once.

  “Yes,” I said. “I think Satan is intentionally hiding information from me, and I think maybe Death is too. I know you probably can’t tell me if my suspicions are right or not, so I won’t ask.”

  “Nessa…” Henry began, looking like he had something he wanted to say but he wasn’t sure if he should.

  “Dick said something to me when he kidnapped me that time that made me think maybe Satan’s library was the wrong place to look. I’d forgotten about it until last night, and I thought maybe I’d find information in Hecate’s bookshop.”

  He looked a little worried as he asked, “What kind of information?”

  “A history textbook,” I said. “Of course, I don’t really know what time period I’m looking for, so that makes it tricky. Maybe I should try the myths and legends section… I don’t suppose you feel like pointing me in the right direction?”

  He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, Ness. I –”

  “I know, you can’t tell me. Just wishful thinking.”

  “You must have found something, though,” he said, gesturing at my paper bag.

  “Not exactly,” I replied.

  Frowning, he reached for the bag. I handed it to him and he peered inside. “What on earth…”

  “Rainbow interrupted me while I was browsing and I didn’t want her to see what I was really looking at in case she got suspicious.”

  “So you grabbed The Art Of Death & Murder? Well done. That definitely would have put all her suspicions to rest.”

  “I grabbed the first book I could see that wasn’t a history textbook,” I explained. Then I frowned. “Although in hindsight, she did seem kind of freaked out when I held it up. I think she thought I was threatening her.” I shook my head. “Never mind. I doubt she figured out who I was from that.”

  Henry pressed a finger to his lips indicating that I should be quiet and nodded behind me. I turned and saw Ravi approaching. As he sidled up to me, Ravi gave my latte a longing stare. Looked like someone was experiencing the post-death blues. I felt sorry for him, and started to slightly regret my behaviour towards him yesterday. He deserved a proper investigation into his murder. Today I was going to try and put Pierre out of my mind and focus on Ravi’s case. (The fact that we’d probably clear this case faster as a result of that was just a coincidental bonus.)

  “Ravi,” I said in greeting. “OK. So the last thing you remember is going to work, right?”

  Ravi nodded.

  “I say we head there and question your co-workers. Maybe one of them saw something.”

  “I agree,” said Henry. “By the way, I contacted the medical examiner this morning. She wasn’t finished yet, but she’s going to call me once she has more information.”

  “Good. In the meantime, we’d better head to your office, Ravi. It’s in Gretchen, right?”

  He nodded again. “Yes. I can show you the way.”

  “Good,” I said. “We’d better start walking.”

  Henry smiled and said, “Or I could shift into a horse again.”

  I took off faster than an Olympic power walker and called over my shoulder, “Let’s get cracking!”

  Chapter 12

  Despite my super speedy power-walking skills, it was well into the afternoon by the time we reached the other town, and although it was winter, the long walk had made me begin to sweat. Man, it was really time I invested in a broom or a carpet to take me places. Hell, even a bicycle. I’d done a ridiculous amount of walking in the last couple of days, and also in the last couple of months. On the plus side, my calf muscles were very shapely as a result.

  The town of Goonoogal was about the same size as Gretchen, the town we’d come from, but this place had a slightly different vibe. Goonoogal was where the university was located, so there were a lot of younger people living here. This is where Ed had lived before he died, and somewhere on the outskirts of town was the blackened husk of the house that he’d burned down to disguise his murderous deeds. It had worked pretty well – until I’d figured it all out. Yeah, OK, it had taken me a while to catch on, but I got there eventually. Stop judging me.

  But now was not the time to think about Ed. Right now, I needed to focus on Ravi. I’d been slack with his case so far, and I wanted to do better. He led us through the town to the business district, towards a building with the sign out the front that read Zoom Brooms and Carpets Rental. Henry held the door open and I stepped through. Ravi also came in through the open door, although he could have just walked through the wall. Eventually he’d get used to his new ghostly powers.

  Henry and I walked up to the front desk with Ravi trailing slightly behind. There was no one sitting at reception, presumably because the ghost of their former receptionist was now floating about two inches off the floor to my right.

  While we were waiting for someone to notice us, I looked around the room and took in the sight. We were in a massive showroom filled with hovering brooms and magic carpets. The ceiling was high and there were some models zooming about over head. The office was filled with customers being served by witches in navy blue robes, who were matching the vehicle to the customer. Ah, a carpet for the family, ma’am? This model over here comes with seatbelts and various wards to prevent the little ones from falling off the edge. (It seemed to me that all carpets should probably come with wards to prevent people from falling off the edge, but maybe there was something I didn’t know.)

  I turned to Ravi. “Do they sell carpets here or just rent them?” I asked him.

  “Just rent,” he answered.

  Damn it. I’d been hoping Ravi could get me a staff discount on the carpet or broom I’d been thinking of buying. I’d just have to see if I could find a second-hand one somewhere – a nice cheap one that I could afford without having to save for too much longer. All this walking was starting to wea
r thin. I wanted to get a good quality one. I’d learned my lesson about buying cheap brooms when I was in the North Pole and one pitched me into the frozen Arctic Ocean. (That was when I’d met the wereorcas that Henry hated so much. I still wasn’t entirely sure what his problem with them was. He claimed it was that he didn’t like associating with potential criminals, but here he was hanging out with me.)

  A witch across the room finished up with her customers and began to walk towards us. Suddenly she stopped and frowned, looking us up and down, and then she abruptly turned and walked out into the back room. I frowned. How strange. Maybe she’d just forgotten something that she urgently needed to do. However, when I tried to catch another witch’s eye, she similarly turned away and studiously ignored me. What was going on?

  I leaned into Henry. “Did you see that?” I asked.

  “You mean the witches? Yeah,” he replied. “What do you think their problem is?”

  “Maybe they’re doing something illegal here,” I replied. “Maybe it’s because we’re cops.”

  “Of course it’s because you’re cops,” Ravi said, shaking his head at us.

  Henry and I both turned to him, giving him confused looks.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Is there something you should tell us?”

  “Is the business doing something illegal?” Henry asked. “Because if so, that may give us some clues into who had you murdered. If they thought you were about to rat out their operation –”

  “No,” Ravi replied, shaking his head at us again and looking bewildered. “Do you really not know?”

  Henry shook his head and I crossed my arms. “Obviously not, Ravi,” I replied. “Would you mind illuminating us?”

  “The Bluebell Coven runs this shop,” he said, raising his eyebrows as if that was meant to be significant. I waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have thought that was a sufficient explanation.

  “Ravi, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is there something significant about the Bluebell Coven?” I asked.