Silver and Shadows: A Halfmoon Investigations Urban Fantasy

by Tracy Sharp

  “To hell with that,” she muttered.

  She passed by a ghostly man in 1930s clothing, walking along the road with a ghostly dog a few feet in front of him. He raised a hand in greeting and she did the same as she sped passed them.

  This was going to take some getting used to. At least she seemed to be getting better at figuring out who was alive and who was dead.

  Her mind turned to her wolf friend as she turned into the precinct parking lot. She had seen neither hide nor hair of him since last night. She wondered if she’d ever see him again. Ezra said he was a wolf shifter. Candace hadn’t seen him shift. Maybe she’d see him in human form, next time. Would she recognize him? What was he like as a human?

  She climbed off her bike and pulled her helmet off, tugging her ponytail out of the back of her jacket. She walked toward the stairs leading to the building, and jogged up them, and then strode through the front doors.

  The expressions on the faces of her fellow cops ranged from pity to smug smirking, and she stared each cop dead in the eyes as she passed them.

  Most had the good sense to look away, but one didn’t, and that was McKay, the idiot whose teeth she’d knocked out yesterday.

  He glared back at her with all the animosity and maliciousness of a rabid animal. She got the message. He would get her back.

  Bring it on, pal. Round one was child’s play. After the couple of days she’d had, he was small potatoes.

  Captain Healy was alone at his desk when she knocked at his open door.

  He gestured impatiently for her to come in. “Have a seat, Beck.”

  Candace sat down, feeling like a kid facing the principal. She remained quiet, waiting for him to tell her what he’d called her in for. Any other time, in this same situation, her heart would be racing and she’d be dreading the inevitable bad news. But now, she was strangely calm.

  Healy folded his big hands on his desk. “In light of your role in finding the slime ball who’s been murdering women in four different states, I’ve decided to lift your suspension, Beck.” He opened his drawer and placed her badge and her gun on his desk, then slid both toward her. “You’re back on the job, effective immediately. But I’m watching you. Any further violence, against anyone, unless your life depends on it, will be cause for termination.”

  She hadn’t expected this. “What about the video? The public outcry of police brutality?”

  “It’ll blow over. You cracked this case. Caught this monster before he could kill again, and you’ve given the families of the victims closure. They can now bury their daughters . And let’s not forget that you were a victim, too. You were as close as you could get to joining those poor girls, and lived to tell about it. The public will forgive you. If anything, you’ve gained their sympathy, and scored points as a hero.”

  Candace stared at her badge and gun lying on the desk, just a few inches away from her. She waited for the overwhelming relief and joy at having her job back to wash over her. It didn’t happen. She felt neither.

  Healy’s eyebrows shot up. “Well?”

  Still, Candace made no move to reach for the items on the desk.

  Captain Healy cocked his head, his face turning red. His eyes squinted at her. “Beck, you’d better take your badge and gun before I change my damned mind.”

  Candace found herself shaking her head. “No.”

  “Excuse me?” He looked so shocked and confused it was almost comical.

  She stood, looking down at him. A slow smile spread across her face. “No. I quit.”

  He stared at her, his face baffled. “You what?”

  “I quit. I’m no longer an officer of the law. Keep the badge and gun. I don’t need them.” Candace walked out of his office, down the hall and past the staring faces, her own smile widening. She stepped into the empty elevator and gave the confused cops who watched her leave a cheerful little wave. As the doors began to close, she called out, “So long, assholes.”

  As she walked out the door she felt happy. Really happy, and lighter. She felt a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was free.

  She headed toward her bike and found Ezra on her speed dial. He answered after the first ring. “Candy? You okay?”

  “Hell, yes. I’m better than okay. I just quit my damned job.”

  There was a short pause, and then a chuckle. “I guess you’re a free agent, now.”

  “I am. An agent against evil.” She liked the sound of that.

  “A monster hunter. A totally kick-ass one.”

  “That’s me.” She was still grinning from ear to ear.

  “What made you quit the force?”

  “Some nerd once told me that I don’t need a badge to protect and defend, or something cheesy like that. I guess it stuck. So, if I utterly fail at this new endeavor, I’m gunning for him.”

  “We’ll have to get you a new gun, then. Or two. One for silver bullets, and one for iron. No, three. One like Sally, that shoots special silver and iron hybrids. Hell, we’ll get you an entire arsenal of weapons”

  “Sounds good. Right after I get out of hell.”

  She hoped it worked out that way.

  “You’re going to do what, now?” Iona stared at Candace with big, dark eyes.

  “I’m going back into hell. I was wondering if you had anything, any charms, or hex items, any of the voodoo, or hoodoo, or whatever Hocus Pocus that you do, anything that could help keep me safe during my short visit.”

  Iona gave her a slow blink, her face telling her that she thought Candace had lost her senses. “Are you out of your damned mind?”

  Candace looked up at the ceiling, pushed out an impatient breath, and told her the short version of her experiences since she’d last seen Iona, reminding her of Brodie, whom she’d had to have cleaned up for her.

  When Candace was finished, Iona stared at her some more.

  “Well? Are you going to help me or not?”

  “I don’t know if there’s much I can do to help you if you go into hell. I’ve never had a client do that before.”

  “I’m a client?” Candace frowned. “I thought I was just some woman who wandered into your store to hide from a demon.”

  “How do you think I get most clients? The phone book? Social media? They find me, usually the way you did. I have a beacon spell on the place. I’m kind of the lighthouse of the supernatural world. Mostly in this area. But clients come from far and wide. They find me.”

  “Okay. The point is, I realize this is a tall order. But what can you do for me?”

  “Hell’s bells, girl. I’m not magic.” She grinned, her eyes dancing. “Just kidding. Lucky for you, I am.”

  “Thank God. What have you got for me?”

  “Step into my office.” On the way to her back room, she turned the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ and then headed into the dark recesses of the back room.

  The place smelled of hickory and spices, and a cacophony of other scents that Candace couldn’t identify. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell at all. Instead, the scents made her feel incredibly calm and relaxed. Even peaceful. “What’s in this room? Are you burning pot or something?”

  “Not pot. A flower that grows wild in only certain areas of the world. If I told you what it is, or where it grows, I’d have to kill you.” She smiled. “It keeps me calm naturally, and repels evil things. They don’t like the smell.”

  “Can’t I take some with me?”

  “I have something better.” She leaned over and lifted a floorboard from the wide plank floor beneath the old wooden table. There were outlines of several items down there in the dark space, and Candace couldn’t make out what the items were, but when Iona leaned back up, she held an old tin box in her hand.

  She stood up and looked down at Candace. “I need you to turn around for a minute.”

  Without objection or question, Candy turned and looked through the tea colored, thin material that covered the doorway. Several charms hung from the bamboo curtain rod, and she busied
herself studying them.

  “Okay. You can turn around.”

  When she turned back, Iona was once again seated at the table and inserting a tiny key into the lock on the tin box.

  Candace’s inner cop spoke up. “You know that if anyone wanted to open that box badly enough, they could just break the lock, right? In fact, if anyone wanted to find your stash of magical items, the second place they’d look, right after your shelf back there, would be the floor boards.”

  Iona arched a brow above eyes that Candace sensed had seen a lot more than she would ever say. “Candace, please. Don’t insult my intelligence. The floorboard and the items beneath are charmed with an invisible spell, and if anyone does find a way to get to this box, it’s enchanted. Nothing will open it except this key, which, you guessed it, is also enchanted. It will only work for me.”

  “Sorry. It’s a cop thing. Well, ex-cop thing.” Candace felt like an idiot. She had so much to learn about the supernatural world.

  Reading her expression, Iona said. “It’s okay. You’ll learn. You quit?”

  “Yeah.” She wasn’t going to elaborate, but then found herself explaining, “I don’t know why I quit. It just didn’t fit me right anymore.”

  “Now you have no restraints. That’s good. You can’t fight supernatural monsters if you have to follow the rules of law.”

  “True.” Candace said. “I feel free already.”

  Iona smiled and shook her head. “Good think you have that sense of humor. You’ll need it.”

  “So, why are you showing me where this secret stuff is?”

  Iona slowly, almost reverently, opened the box, and wisps of sparkling smoke escaped. “Because I can see into your soul. I know you’ll never tell anyone. You’re a guardian, Candace. You would protect this stash, this entire place, and me, with your life.”

  Candace was speechless. Iona was right. She would.

  “Okay. If you get in real trouble down there, and you will, throw this into the faces of any demons who come at you. If you can get it in their eyes, it works best.” She handed Candace three small bottles with old fashioned toppers in their mouths.

  “But if they inhale it, it should stop them dead. If it gets on exposed skin, it will burn through. It should send them running, at the very least. It might kill younger and lower devils. The older and stronger are harder to kill, but it will hurt them, and back them off.”

  Candace held one of the bottles in her hand, turning it over. She shook the bottle.

  “Don’t do that.” Iona placed a hand on her arm. “It’s powerful magic.”

  “What is this stuff?”

  “Angel dust.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Iona chuckled. “No. Not illegal narcotics. Your police laws don’t apply here. This is powder from an angel’s wings.”

  At first Candace found it hard to believe. Powder from an angel’s wings? But then, when she thought of what she’d seen the last couple of days, it wasn’t all that far-fetched. “How did you get it?”

  “There are angels among us. I have a few who want to help with the cause.”

  “No way,” Candace breathed.

  “Oh, totally way.” Iona gently pulled out another two bottles. “This is harder to come by.”

  Candace peered at the small, brown bottle in Iona’s hand. “What is it?”

  Iona’s voice was barely a whisper, as she said the words like a prayer. “Angel’s breath.”

  “Why is that harder to come by than angel dust. What do they do, just breathe into a bottle?”

  “Yes, but the breath doesn’t come from just any angel. As the oldest devils are hardest to kill, the oldest angels are hardest to find. They’re very rarely seen. I don’t have many of these, so be very careful with them.” Iona carefully handed Candace the two bottles. “Just a minute.”

  Iona went to a wooden cabinet and opened a drawer. She lifted something out of it and then turned back to Candace. She held out a leather belt with several small compartments in it. “Put the bottles in this. It will keep them safe.”

  Candace accepted the belt, and began placing the small bottles into the little compartments. Each compartment had a tiny flap which snapped shut. She fitted it around her waist and locked it in place with the buckle. “Thanks, Iona.”

  Iona gave her a nod. “You’ve got the angel dust, angel’s breath, the mirrored charm, and the dagger. I hope they will be enough.”

  A chill snaked down Candace’s spine. “I hope so, too.”

  19

  Candace

  The team was already on the bridge when Candace pulled her bike over to the side of the dirt road and killed the engine. Strummer, Rae, Fiona and Ezra stood in front of it, waiting for her.

  Ezra walked over to her. “Are you sure about this?”

  “You bet.” Her voice was breathless, because she couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs. Her blood raced in her veins, and her nerves jittered beneath her skin. “It’s crazy, but it’s necessary.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  She pinned him with her gaze. “I don’t want you to jump in after me, Ezra.”

  “That’s not really up to you.” His face was determined, jaw set.

  “Listen to me,” Candace said. “It’ll be easier if I don’t have to worry about you.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Candy.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t want you getting in the way. I need all my wits about me for this little promenade. Promise me you won’t come in after me.”

  His gaze flicked away and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m not completely helpless, Candace. I do have some new found powers.”

  She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Ezra, you could get me killed.”

  He looked at her, the concern on his face almost heartbreaking. She’d never seen concern like that for her on anyone’s face before. It was nearly disarming.

  She felt a reflexive swallow over her own emotion, then tried to keep the tremor from her voice. “Promise me.”

  “Fine.” But he wouldn’t look at her.

  “Say it.”

  Finally, his eyes shifted back to her face. “I promise I won’t go in after you.”

  “No matter how long I’m down there.”

  Fear came into his eyes. Fear for her. “No matter how long you’re down there.”

  Candace watched him for a moment longer, before heading toward Strummer. She stood in front of him, trying not to look at the bridge and the water beyond it. She just wanted a few more seconds of standing on the ground, breathing in the air. The idea that she might not ever do that again taunted her, and she shoved it aside.

  Strummer stood before her, watching her face. “You are a true warrior, Candace. I’ve never known another who would willingly go into hell. Especially after having been there, and knowing even a small amount of what is waiting.”

  He said it like he knew what he was talking about. About what, exactly, awaited. “Ever been?”

  “Once. A long time ago. It seared my soul.” Strummer’s face was expressionless, as always, and now there was an explanation as to why that was. “I do not wish to go back.”

  She gave him a little nod. “Me either. But if I’m going to do this, I’d better do it now, before I lose my nerve.”

  Strummer held out a hand to her, and Candace was a little taken aback by that, but she accepted it gladly. She felt like she needed just a bit of his strength. He stared into her eyes with dark irises that seemed to see into her soul, and then looked down at their clasped hands.

  Candace felt a faint current flow through her hand, as if there were a slight vibration moving through it. Warmth rushed through her, she felt courage blast out from deep within, and rise up inside of her like a phoenix from the flames.

  Finally, he let her hand go, nodding to himself. “You have the warrior running in your veins. This won’t be an easy task, but you can get through it and come back, alive. I’l
l be up here, waiting to pull you back out. Scream my name, even if only in your mind, and I’ll find you.”

  “Got it,” Candace said. “Well, might as well get this show on the road.”

  Strummer walked her to the spot on the bridge over the area of water she’d been enticed into falling into just the day before. That fall had changed her life forever.

  “I have sealed this portal. I will reopen it now.” Strummer raised a hand, holding it over the water. He chanted softly to himself, in some ancient language she didn’t understand and had never heard.

  The water below began churning, and Candace climbed the railing and threw a leg over it, then the other, and turned, hanging on to it with both hands behind her. The chipped slivers of decrepit wood needled her back and the backs of her legs where she leaned back against it. The smell of the lake drifted up to her face, and she took in the scent of dead fish and boat gasoline.

  “It is done,” Strummer’s silky voice said above a cooling night breeze.

  She stole a quick glance at Ezra, who watched her, hands jammed deep into his coat pockets, face tilted downward as his large, wary eyes fastened on her, begging her not to do it.

  But she did. She let go, and the wind rushed up as she cut through the air, downward. The fall seemed to take an eternity, as if she were suspended in time, and then she hit the cold water with a large splash.

  Within a split second she was sucked down into a spiraling underwater funnel, spinning and twirling, caught in an air bubble. She sucked at the air, nearly frantic, and had time to think what a bad idea this was before the air bubble filled and water rushed at her face, filling her mouth.

  An unbelievably loud sucking sound filled her ears, and she was momentarily deafened, the roaring sound of nothing, and then her ears popped and she heard distant shrieks, and screams of agony.

  The cries of those who were carried here, by God knew what, after death.

  And she was here of her own free will.

  Candace felt herself being sucked down, impossibly deep, into a tunnel of water, and then she felt the blasting heat.