Romancing the Dead

by Tate Hallaway

  “It’s Garnet,” I said. “Have you gotten to my place yet?”

  “Uh, yeah. I don’t know if you know this, but there’s a great big tree in the middle of your house.”

  “I know. Listen, we need to have everyone meet at Sebastian’s tonight. Do you think you can direct everyone?”

  I heard some fumbling. “Yeah, what’s his address?” I told him and he said, “I’ll just pull it up on my BlackBerry. Doesn’t look too bad. Let me read you what MapQuest says.”

  I listened. As someone who is usually a passenger, I had no real idea if the route was the most direct, but it certainly sounded familiar enough.

  Mátyás came up and mouthed, “Wards.”

  “I’ll be waiting outside the place,” I added. Or maybe I could do a little counter-magic just for one night.

  “Are you okay?” William asked after we’d confirmed everything. “The house looks totaled. Maybe we should postpone this.”

  “No,” I said. “I think the storm damage had something to do with Sebastian’s disappearance—”

  “You’re telling him?” Mátyás cut in.

  “It’s William,” I protested. “Anyway, I really want to do the spell of finding tonight.”

  “Okay,” William said. “Oh, hey, people are arriving. I’ve got to go.”

  Mátyás and I walked out into a cocoon of a yellowish haze of streetlights. The inky blackness of the sky above pressed close. Our heels echoed on the empty sidewalks. The air carried the fragrance of cooling asphalt.

  “You know,” Mátyás said, as we reached his car. Leaning on crossed arms, he stared at me over the roof. The paint reflected a deeper metallic under the streetlamps. “A sting only really works if you have the element of surprise.”

  “William isn’t trying to kill me,” I said, my hand on the door handle he hadn’t unlocked yet. “Besides, he was going to cancel the meeting. I needed to give him a sense of urgency.”

  “Which he could be sharing with the whole coven right now. You didn’t ask him not to tell anyone.”

  Oh. “I’m not used to being a spy.”

  “Clearly,” he said dryly, opening his car door. I heard my lock click open.

  I slipped into the passenger seat, feeling a little stupid. “Maybe William won’t say anything.”

  Sarcasm oozed from Mátyás’s tone. “Because William is the soul of discretion.”

  I looked up at the crescent moon barely visible through the cloud cover and prayed, for once, he was.

  “We’d better have a plan,” Mátyás said as we pulled into Sebastian’s driveway. He put the car in park and turned to face me, an arm resting casually on the steering wheel. “Can you act arrogant?”

  This was one of those questions I dreaded answering. “Uh, I don’t know, why?”

  “You need to irritate the attacker into making a move,” he said. “That’s the whole bait thing.”

  “Don’t they already hate me just the way I am?”

  “Who doesn’t?” He smiled softly, and for the first time I actually thought he might be teasing and not trying to insult me. “I was thinking that maybe you should try to take control of the coven or something. If the issue is really jealousy, maybe one of them will out themselves.”

  Oh boy. Well, it was a better plan than no plan at all.

  I stood out at the end of the long, gravel road that served as Sebastian’s driveway and swatted mosquitoes. They seemed particularly attracted to my ankles and the wounds on my neck. Slapping another one, I scanned the county road for headlights. Crickets chirped softly in the tall grass that grew wild in the drainage ditch.

  A lone highway light illuminated the county cemetery next door. Most of the few, scattered markers were at least a hundred years old, knee-high obelisks that listed to the side or were overgrown with plants once left as offerings. Names had worn off the soft stone now riddled with lichen and moss.

  Except one. At the edge closest to Sebastian’s farm was a brand-new marble headstone bearing the name Daniel Parrish, no dates. Parrish had “died” in order to help clear my name with the FBI. Even though I woke up to discover his body gone, I had insisted on buying a gravestone. For me, it was a place to grieve, and more important, I wanted some kind of acknowledgment of Daniel’s bravery, his sacrifice.

  Honestly? I was pretty sure he’d managed to escape the grave. It would be weird to think of him buried alive there, even if he was in torpor.

  The sound of a car’s tires woke me from my reverie. I waved at what looked like William’s Prius. Once the car was close enough, William powered down the window. Xylia’s friend Robert sat in the passenger seat, and Marge and Max huddled together in the back. Max waved at me.

  I smiled and waved back.

  “Are you sure this is right?” William asked.

  Sebastian’s wards made his house looked like an abandoned farm, a common enough sight in the back roads of Wisconsin that most people drove past it, even in broad daylight. At night the illusion was especially strong.

  “Trust me,” I said. “Mátyás will let you in.”

  William looked doubtful but he pulled into the drive. I continued my vigil.

  Wind rustled the stiff stalks of corn that surrounded Sebastian’s farmhouse. Though it was June, the phrase “knee-high by the Fourth of July” came into my head. In straight rows, the broad leaves reflected moonlight like sword points.

  Across the road, I could see the stalks shiver and shake as something passed through them. The rows parted for silver fur and a black-tipped tail. Four legs took the coyote quickly into the steep dip of the drainage ditch filled with tall fronds of white sweet clover.

  Up onto the road came a man: Micah.

  “What are you doing here?” I sounded angry, but my stomach tightened with fear. Had he come to finish me off, after all? Instinctively I reached for Lilith for protection. I felt her, though not where I expected to find her. Her presence stretched between Micah and I, like a rubber band.

  She wasn’t mine, but neither, I could tell, was she entirely his.

  His eyes glittered obsidian-hard under the streetlight. In black-and-white relief, he looked otherworldly.

  And angry.

  Maybe Mátyás was wrong about the second party that wanted me dead. Maybe, somehow, I still had a connection with Lilith, one Micah couldn’t break. Perhaps in order to get complete control over her, Micah needed me dead.

  “Uh, William?” I called behind me, taking a step back. “Mátyás?”

  Micah started slowly across the street.

  Just when I was considering making a run for it, a rusty Honda slowed its approach, coming between Micah and me. Xylia stopped at the top of the driveway. Over the roar of a shoddy muffler, Xylia said, “This must be the right place.” She smiled. Then seeing Micah on the other side of the road, she turned and said, “Hiya, Micah. Want a ride?”

  He flashed a dark grin as he got in.

  Well, that seemed ominous. Talk about a wolf in the fold. But Micah wouldn’t be crazy enough to try to kill me in front of the entire coven, would he?

  As I waited for the stragglers, I considered my options. I could stay with the plan as Mátyás outlined it, although given how pissed off Micah already seemed I didn’t think I needed to add the whole “act annoying” shtick. Or I could run away and hide. Frankly, I was kind of liking door number two. But really, where would I go that a God wouldn’t be able to find me? And, if Mátyás was right about Marge and Micah, then one or the other was responsible for Sebastian’s disappearance.

  After directing the last of the group, I walked up the long drive now lined with cars. I felt a little like I was headed to the gallows, and it was hard to believe that I’d talked Sebastian into starting a coven because I thought it would ground me, help me settle in. I should have known things would end badly; we’d started off on such a wrong foot with Sebastian’s flirtation with Blythe.

  Hey, Blythe never showed!

  Had I been wrong about Sebastian?
Was it possible that the day after he proposed to me, he ran off with another woman? I shook my head. Not Sebastian. There had to be another explanation. Quickening my pace, I was determined to find out.

  I walked into chaos. Books were flying everywhere. Windows were slamming open and closed. Lights switched on and off, like a strobe.

  I pushed past a clump of people who stood near the doorway covering their heads with their hands and screaming.

  William and Xylia sat in the middle of the floor in the lotus position, chanting something. Griffin stood off to one side shouting, “What the fuck?” over and over. Mátyás, who sat on the steps with his head in his hands, looked up with a long-suffering sigh.

  Micah, meanwhile, lounged on the couch, calmly eating from a bag of potato chips, watching the whole thing like it was the best show he’d ever seen.

  Benjamin. He was in full attack mode. I’d totally forgotten to warn him that there’d be company.

  “Garnet,” Max said, tugging my sleeve. “What is it? What’s going on?”

  I raised my hand. “I’ll take care of it. Everyone just needs to calm down.” Not that anyone heard me, though Max did start letting people know that I had some kind of solution. I only hoped I did.

  Closing my eyes, I exhaled a slow, steadying breath. I rose into the astral plane. Having forgotten to sit down first, I felt my body fall face-first onto the Persian rug. The pain of smacking into the floor nearly jolted me back into my body, but I held on.

  “Smooth move,” said a voice that was more growl than words. I opened my magical eyes and saw Coyote. Superimposed over Micah was the image of a coyote-headed man wearing a traditional beaded buckskin robe. Black eyes glinted with mirth and mischief. His long snout lifted in a slight sneer, showing sharp yellowed canines. The tufts of fur at his ears were gray and coarse. He looked old, but very much like a God. I shrank back a bit in awe. I might even have fallen down on my knees in supplication had not Benjamin chosen that moment to toss another book.

  Benjamin picked up another pile of books, shouting, “Get out. Get out of my house.”

  Several coveners rushed over to where I’d seemingly passed out on the floor. Marge shook my shoulders gently and called my name. I ignored them. I had a poltergeist to deal with.

  “Benjamin,” I said quietly, but firmly.

  Book raised over his head, he stopped. Bringing it down slowly, he stared at William’s skull like he still desperately wanted to do him bodily harm. “Garnet?”

  “These people are here to help me find Sebastian.”

  “Interlopers.” He shook his head, as though he didn’t believe me. “I only like dead things in this house. The dead . . . and you.” He glanced at me with a glint in his eye I wasn’t especially comfortable with.

  O-kay. Sebastian had told me that Benjamin got crazier the closer it was to full moon.

  “Um, well, that’s sort of sweet.” And sort of odd. Best not to dwell on the implications of that. I cleared my throat. “They’ll only be here for a few hours. You want Sebastian back, don’t you?”

  Benjamin’s shoulders drooped and he let the book drop to the floor with a bang. Everyone in the room jumped, except Micah, who sat in Sebastian’s chair with his feet up on the table, watching the exchange between Benjamin and me.

  “Out,” I commanded Benjamin as I’d heard Sebastian do many times before. Then, on impulse, I added, “Please.”

  “All right,” he said. “Since you asked so nicely.” Benjamin walked past Micah and said, “You’re not welcome here.”

  Micah smiled sweetly, though I saw his astral tail twitch. “I was here long before you.”

  Benjamin stiffened and I thought he might give in to another tantrum, but he simply narrowed his eyes at Micah and stalked out. He pushed the kitchen door open forcefully, and then went outside and slammed the back door shut like a petulant child.

  I lowered myself back into my body slowly. The hardwood was cool against my cheek. Inhaling, I came back into the sensation of the heaviness my body. I felt the weight of skin and bones and all the pressure of all the little aches I’d been subconsciously carrying with me over the past few days—the dull throb of my swollen, burned neck, bruised knees, and skinned palms.

  My head was partially propped on someone’s knee. Craning my neck, I noticed it was Max. Marge knelt over me, though her attention, like everyone else’s, had shifted to the noisy retreat of the ghost.

  Max, however, looked ready to administer CPR.

  “I’m okay,” I told him, pushing myself up on my elbows. “Really.”

  “Lifeguard training in high school. I guess it all comes back to you in a crisis situation, eh, Garnet?” A beat. Then he added, “Jeez, was that a real ghost?”

  We had the attention of the whole room, many of whom, no doubt, had the same question on their minds.

  “Poltergeist,” I said. I pulled my knees up to start the process of sitting up. Marge scooted out of the way and a few others stepped back to give me room. With more effort than I would have preferred, especially given the audience, I got my feet under me and myself upright. “I’m sorry about him,” I said, rolling my shoulders to ease the sting from falling. “Benjamin kind of came with the house.”

  “You live with a ghost?” Griffin asked unbelievingly. “On purpose?”

  “Sebastian does,” Mátyás said from his spot on the staircase. “Garnet just sleeps over.”

  I shot Mátyás a glare. What was with the sudden hostility again?

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your new friend, Garnet?” Micah asked from where he lounged in the chair.

  “Uh, everyone,” I said. “This is Mátyás Von Traum, Sebastian’s son.”

  There was a chorus of ohs and heys and nice-to-meet-yous. Mátyás stood up and edged a little closer to the group.

  Since Mátyás stood there looking somewhat at a loss as to what to say next, I introduced each covener by name. Plus, this way Mátyás could connect names and faces to all the people we’d put on our suspect list. I saved Micah for last.

  “Enchanté, I’m sure,” Micah said with a tip of an invisible hat.

  “Et vous, júckal,” Mátyás replied.

  “Now, now, no need for name-calling. You hardly know me,” Micah said with a lazy smile.

  “It’s kind of mystic, isn’t it?” William said to no one in particular. “There are always twelve of us. Sebastian goes missing and Micah joins us. Blythe dropped out and now Mátyás is here.”

  “Yeah, what happened to her anyway?” Xylia asked. “She was kind of cute.”

  “Cute?” Mátyás mouthed to me. “And she’s been missing how long?”

  “She’s been AWOL since Sebastian disappeared,” Marge said, stepping closer into the two of us uninvited. She gave me a sheepish glance and added, “I kind of figured they ran off together, honestly.”

  “No,” Mátyás and I said simultaneously and with nearly the same vehemence.

  Marge took a step back. “Oh, well, I thought he was a vampire and that maybe she, well, you know, thought that was cool.”

  That seemed like just the sort of thing someone might suggest to try to cover up her part in Sebastian’s disappearance. I was just about to call Marge on it when I got cut off.

  “Wait a minute,” said Xylia, joining in the conversation that I’d originally intended to be private. “Are you saying we’re doing a ritual to find a guy who’s off having kinky vampire sex with Blythe?”

  “Sebastian ran off with Blythe?” someone at the far end of the room repeated. “Seriously? When did this happen?”

  Mátyás continued to act as though he were only talking to me. “She could have,” he said. “Maybe she’s the one who put the spell on him.”

  The door opened. Every head in the room turned to watch Blythe walk in. She had a motorcycle helmet under her arm, and she shook out her long blond hair. “Hullo, everyone! Sorry I’m late.”

  9.

  Uranus

  KEYWORDS:
Electricity, Magic, and Rebellion

  The room was silent for a heartbeat as we waited to see if Sebastian would stroll in behind Blythe. Necks craned to see around her, and Blythe started to have that concerned look you got when you thought you might have a piece of broccoli stuck in your teeth or your fly might be open. “Um,” she said, “am I missing something here?”

  “We were all just talking about you,” Micah said from his spot on the couch. “By the way, did you kidnap a vampire?”

  “Actually, I think that was you,” Mátyás said.

  “Oh God,” I heard Marge say. Her face drained of color and her eyes darted toward the door. She couldn’t have looked guiltier if she’d tried.

  “Right,” Mátyás added. “And you.”

  “What is this, Miss Marple?” Griffin asked. “Who is this guy who comes in here and starts accusing people of vampire-napping, anyway?”

  I had to admit this wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for from our plan to draw the bad guy out, but if anyone could irritate someone into expressing their guilt, it would be Mátyás. Still, I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, poking at a guy who harbored not one God, but two. I could only hope he had some kind of ace up his sleeve.

  “Mátyás is my friend and”—I started to say that he was Sebastian’s son, but Sebastian was my fiancé, not just some guy I knew. That made Mátyás—“family. Besides, I think he’s right.”

  Micah stretched his arms over his head languidly, as though he were getting ready for a nap. Scratching the back of his neck, he smacked his lips together. “Well, isn’t this exciting,” he murmured sleepily.

  Marge, meanwhile, had inched her way closer to the couch and now stood beside it, watching Mátyás and me with wide, wary eyes. She pulled nervously on her fingers and clutched herself for support.

  Micah stood up slowly. Despite everything, the room veritably crackled with the threat of his movement.

  In response, the rest of the coven seemed to huddle closer to me and Mátyás, as though closing ranks. Griffin came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. He gave me a reassuring squeeze and I could feel his magical strength adding itself to mine. “So, is it true?” Griffin asked. “You got the lady’s boyfriend stashed somewhere?”