Hereditary Curse (The Gatekeeper's Curse Book 2)

by Emma L. Adams

  I’d given Morgan my iron filings, so I used my knife, which passed straight through the shadows. My hands felt cold, clammy, and the temperature had plummeted overnight. Hazel crept out of the room behind me, her hands glowing with Summer magic along with the circlet on her head.

  “Show yourself,” I whispered to the shadows. “Go on.” My Sight worked fine, so the creature must be trying really hard to hide itself. The shadows lengthened, creeping along the walls.

  “Gatekeeper,” a voice whispered.

  “Which one of us?” Hazel asked. “You picked a fight with the wrong—”

  The house trembled as though a heavy blow had struck it from the side. Morgan’s shout came from downstairs.

  Hazel threw Summer magic into the gloom, lighting the dark, and revealing a creature hanging upside-down from the ceiling by its suction-cup-covered, tentacle-like arms. It resembled a two-armed octopus, flesh-coloured and hideous. Its flat face was made entirely of a huge mouth, toothless and covered in barbs designed to snag its victim and rip their skin clean off. One of the Vale’s nicest creatures.

  “Your illusion skills are crap,” I told it, stalking forwards, dagger in hand. Hazel’s Summer magic wouldn’t be as effective as usual, but iron worked as well as anything.

  The walls rattled again. Shit. This guy was the diversion. And Morgan couldn’t defend himself. Certainly not as well as Hazel or I could.

  It let go with one arm and swiped, and I stabbed it. The iron cut through its fleshy arm and it wailed, letting go and dropping to the floor. Shadows extended behind it, revealing it wasn’t alone, and another creature was behind the illusion. Death stealer. Three of those things had nearly killed Hazel and me a few weeks ago.

  The skin-eating faerie lunged at me. If I let any part of my skin touch it, I was dead, so I flung the knife through its head instead. Dark blood splattered the hall, and the death stealer moved forwards into its place. Damn. I’d had no choice but to throw the knife, but now I was unarmed.

  Shadows lunged at my heels, cold on my bare skin. I jumped backwards, dropping the salt canister but managing to keep hold of the book. Cold power leapt to my hands, drawn from the same darkness that powered this Vale creature. You’ll die before you hurt us.

  Hazel attacked. Her magical assault knocked the creature off the wall, right into the path of my necromantic magic. The beast screeched, burned all over by punishing white light, and exploded into nothingness.

  “Nice,” she said. “I haven’t seen you do that before.”

  “I got a lot of practise.”

  A bone-chilling laugh came from below.

  “Morgan.” I ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Get the hell out of here, faerie.”

  The wards must be down. One of us would have to go outside to switch them back on, but the attacker’s laugh came from the living room. I kicked the door open. Discarded spell residue, ingredients, beer bottles… but nobody living.

  “Did they take him?”

  “No,” growled a voice. Morgan jumped from behind the sofa. “Die, Gatekeeper.”

  A horrible cackling laugh came from my brother’s throat. He was being possessed? I’d thought the fetch couldn’t do that, let alone turn him into a faerie.

  He lunged with blinding speed, his hand wrapping around Hazel’s throat. What—no, his ghost. His transparent hand latched onto Hazel’s neck, lifting her with inhuman strength.

  “Morgan!” I held my knife up, left my body in a defensive position, and leapt out, straight at the ghostly figure strangling Hazel. In ghost form it was plain to see it wasn’t him. The spirit looked like my brother, but when it turned on me, eyes glowing with eerie white light, the smile was a stranger’s.

  “Gatekeeper,” purred the voice. Hazel screamed and flailed, but couldn’t fight off a ghost. It was trying to rip her out of her body like a necromancer had once done to me.

  “Let her go, you bastard.” I grabbed the ghostly assailant’s arm, wrenching it loose from Hazel. White light shone from my hands, and I willed the book’s power to flow into me. My fist connected with the spirit’s nose and it stumbled backwards, its appearance warping. Pointed ears. Smiling face. A… faerie? No. They couldn’t die, not here. But half-faeries could.

  “You can use glamour as a ghost?” I said in disbelief.

  “I’ll be able to do more with that book of yours,” he said, grinning.

  Horror filled my chest. Morgan’s hands were on the book, held in my body’s limp hands. If the monster possessing him used him to try to claim it—one of us might die.

  I dived back into my body in time to wrench the book out of reach. Morgan fell forwards, his expression confused. “What—?”

  “Oh good, you’re back,” said Hazel, her hands aglow. “What in hell is going on? Who attacked me?”

  “Half-faerie ghost possessed him,” I said. “Can you stop him from touching the book? Same goes for her.”

  I left them staring at one another in confusion and hopped into Death again. Grey smoke covered my vision, and the half-faerie faced me, his expression laced with fury. “You bitch.”

  “Sorry I ruined your schemes.” I blasted him off his feet with necromantic energy, then grabbed him by the throat. “Tell me who you’re working for. What the hell does this fetch want with me and my brother?” Except the book, but that went without saying. Who wouldn’t want control over life and death, especially a faerie? Any of them might be behind it.

  He flailed, struggling against my grip, and a fresh boost of power sprang to my palm. The half-faerie went limp, his ghostly form evaporating into ashes.

  “Ah, shit.” I dropped back into my body, looking down at the book. “You couldn’t have let him talk before you blew his head off?”

  Hazel and Morgan both stared at me.

  “What?” I said. Ow. My headache was back. Yet another bonus of being a ghost—no hangovers.

  “You’re kind of scary, Ilsa,” Hazel commented.

  Morgan grunted in agreement. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “You were possessed by a half-faerie ghost,” I told him. “Possibly on the fetch’s orders. It wanted the book. Which is a faerie talisman, so if you’d tried to claim it, you’d have died a horrible death.”

  He sank to the floor, pale as a ghost himself. “What…?”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Hazel.

  “River told me that’s how talismans work. If someone intends to claim it, the talisman… senses it, I guess, and if it doesn’t think the person is worthy to wield it… they die. No idea if the same applies to this one, but if anything tries to make you take the book again—” I broke off. Morgan had covered his face with his hands, hunched behind the sofa. Thinking back to some of the irrational stunts he’d pulled as a teenager… maybe he hadn’t been as in control of his decisions as I’d thought.

  Hazel looked at me helplessly as though completely unsure how to handle the situation. Join the club.

  “I’m going out to switch the wards back on,” I told them. “Someone turned them off—that’s how the ghost got in. Also, that iron spell must be a dud. So get a genuine one.”

  Once I’d switched the wards back on, I sent a message to River. I thought it was too early in the morning for him to be awake, but I got a response right away—your brother should stay at the guild tonight.

  No kidding. I walked back into the living room to find Morgan hunched on the armchair, while Hazel stood by the boiling kettle, probably making coffee. “Guys, it’s looking likely that we’ll have to relocate to the guild tonight, unless we find a way to get rid of that fetch.”

  “It didn’t show up in person, did it?” said Hazel. “I couldn’t see a thing. Just you two.”

  “No, but those half-faeries aren’t average spirits. They’re powerful enough to possess someone, and still retain all their magic beyond death. That’s not something even most necromancers are equipped to handle.”

  “But we are,” Hazel said. “If they can u
se magic, we’re immune.”

  “We don’t know who they’re working for,” I reminded her. “This fetch is the orchestrator, but hell if I know what the endgame is. It knows me… knows the Gatekeepers.”

  Why did the Gatekeeper part of me recognise the fetch, on some weird instinctual level? It sure as hell seemed to think it knew me. But I definitely hadn’t seen it before, either in the spirit world or outside it.

  “Another one of Great-Aunt Enid’s nemeses?” Hazel said, pouring coffee. “Sounds like she had a fair few.”

  “Or she inherited them from the last Gatekeeper,” I said. “I’m writing all this down, you know, so the next Gatekeeper isn’t taken by surprise.”

  “Good idea.” She hesitantly approached Morgan, carrying the tray of coffee cups. “Hey. Morgan. Earth to Morgan. Want me to get you some painkillers?”

  He grunted. She sighed and laid the coffee cup on the table next to him, then came and joined me on the sofa. “Elf wine hangovers are a bitch. Bet that’s why your housemates are still passed out.”

  “Glad they are,” I said. “I told them to expect weirdness from living with me, but faerie ghosts are a step too far.”

  “No kidding.” She eyed Morgan. “The question is—which of us were they targeting?”

  13

  River met us outside the guild. Hazel had refused to stay behind, saying she wanted to confirm our story if we were questioned. From the way she watched Morgan’s back on the walk to the guild, I’d guess she’d taken the attack personally.

  “You weren’t followed, were you?” His hood was pulled up against the rain, his expression wary.

  “If we were, Hazel would have glared it to death,” Morgan commented.

  I elbowed him in the ribs. “Didn’t we talk about not being a dick?”

  “I don’t see how this guy can help us,” Morgan said, eyeing River. “It was a half-faerie who attacked us.”

  “As a ghost?” River asked, letting the insult slide. With Morgan, that was probably the best move if we actually wanted to get anywhere.

  “Yeah, a ghost,” I said. “With his magic intact. I’d guess the fetch, or someone else, talked Morgan into switching off the wards on the house. Two Vale monsters got in, too.”

  Corwin and Torrance had come out of their rooms while I’d been cleaning up the mess, which had led to an awkward conversation. While Corwin seemed fine with Morgan staying there, Torrance hadn’t looked too happy, though I’d kept the details vague so as not to freak them out. I didn’t think ghosts would target my non-necromancer housemates, but keeping Morgan away seemed a smart move.

  River frowned. “The fetch—I did look it up in more detail, and it seems their own abilities are fairly minor. It can only target psychic sensitives, and seems mostly unable to do any harm. That’s likely why it attacked you using an intermediary.”

  “And it didn’t know where I am,” I added. “But now it does. It knows where the house is, too. I’m trying to think of a solution which doesn’t involve using the others as bait, or luring it somewhere else.”

  “So it’s a coward,” Hazel said.

  “And clever,” I said. “It’s been attacking Morgan from a distance for days now. So it might be anywhere.”

  “Not for long,” said Morgan. “I don’t mind being bait. I just want it gone.”

  “The easiest way is to lure it back to the house,” I said. “It’s that or move out, but the house has a target painted on it and innocent people might get hurt.”

  “Lure it there… and then what?” said Hazel.

  “Trap it, for a start,” I said. “Get the beast in a summoning circle, surrounded by candles. If it’s not a ghost, it can be killed—permanently. I can do it, with or without the book. The house is empty now. We’ll have one shot.”

  The others looked at me. Morgan nodded slowly. “Okay. We’ll do it.”

  The guild was a downright ghost town. Apparently everyone had been interrogated to within an inch of their lives, then told they didn’t have to show up today unless they were on the rota for patrolling or taking on cases from the public. That included Jas and Lloyd, who I found standing in a corner, not looking any worse for their narrow escape yesterday.

  “Hey,” I said. “Glad to see you’re alive.”

  “Likewise.” Lloyd looked at Hazel. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  Hazel blinked, looking startled. “Er… yeah. That’s me. I’m Hazel.”

  “And you’re not a necromancer?” asked Lloyd. “What do you do?”

  Hazel’s expression said seriously? Nobody knows who I am? “Er, I’m Gatekeeper. That means I deal with matters connected to the Summer Court and its relationship with the mortal realm.”

  “Like River?” asked Jas.

  “Not exactly. I’m human.”

  “Wow,” she said. “Didn’t know there were humans who went anywhere near Faerie.”

  “Lady Montgomery must have,” said Lloyd. “If she got knocked up by a Sidhe—” He broke off. “Er, don’t say that in front of either of them.”

  “That goes for you too,” I hissed to Morgan, who looked intrigued at those words. “We aren’t on the rota today, by the way,” I added. “A ghost attacked us last night so we’re gonna booby trap the house and lure it out.”

  “Really?” said Jas. “That must be why Lady Montgomery told me to give you this.” She handed Morgan a solid grey bracelet. “Iron.”

  Morgan looked at it in confusion. “She’s giving it to me?”

  “Looks that way,” I said. “Better than a spell. Go, on, take it.”

  Apparently his close encounter with the book had momentarily switched off his kleptomaniac tendencies. The iron band clipped into place on his arm, and his expression instantly cleared. “That’s strong. I could knock a faerie out with this.” He swung his arm, and nearly hit Hazel.

  “Watch it,” she said. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

  “Well, good luck,” said Lloyd. “We should go arm ourselves if we’re on patrol in half an hour.”

  “See you later,” Jas said. She must have volunteered to patrol, because surely even Lady Montgomery wouldn’t have forced her to after her near-death experience yesterday.

  River walked up to us. “We have permission to borrow props, but Lady Montgomery expressed concern about you using yourselves as bait.”

  “You mean, me,” Morgan said. “I’m the one who has a direct link to the fetch.”

  “That’s why it’s dangerous for you,” I told him. “You can’t go inside the house while the trap’s active. It might send one of its friends to possess you again, or worse.”

  “I think you’re both forgetting that I’m the only one who’s ever sensed the damn thing,” said Morgan. “You said I was useful. Now I can prove it. You know what I did against those creatures before, the psychic attack? I can try using it next time I hear the voice, to draw it in. Then one of you puts iron on me before it gets in my head again. It gets mad, runs right into our trap.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” said Hazel.

  “Except for the part where you willingly open yourself to a psychic assault from a fae monster who wants all of us dead?” I said.

  “Well. There’s that.”

  “One of us has to take the risk,” said Hazel. “I know you’re in self-sacrificing mode, Ilsa, but you’re powerful. Too much so to use as bait. As for me, I’m not a necromancer. I have nothing to offer. This fetch is already attached to Morgan. It won’t be able to resist. I don’t like the idea, believe me, but it’s probably going to try to attack him again. So we’ll kill the bastard before it can.”

  I turned to Morgan. “Are you absolutely certain? Because if this decision is in the same category as ‘let’s steal and sell Mum’s antique family heirlooms, I’m sure she’ll never notice’, then it’s more than your neck on the line. It might use you to attack other people.”

  “Jesus, I get it, okay? I’ll gladly jump in as bait if it gets that fucking thing
to stop wailing in my head.”

  “If you’re sure,” I said. “Morgan, you wear the iron until you get to the house. Hazel… want to set the candles up? I’m not a hundred percent sure it doesn’t sense the book, and if it does, our cover is blown.”

  “I’ll set the candles up,” River said. “If it can sense your thoughts, Morgan, you might not want to think about us following you.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Think about whatever irrelevant crap you like, just not that. Got it?”

  He nodded. “Sure, I can think of nothing. I’m good at that.”

  Hazel snorted. “He’s not wrong. Good luck, you two.”

  River took the lead, while Morgan followed behind. I looked at Hazel. “Go with River. I’ll stay behind. If it can sense me, I won’t take chances.”

  “Okay.” She took in a steadying breath. “Let us know if there’s a problem.”

  “Will do.” I waited, already regretting letting them take off alone. I counted down thirty seconds, then followed.

  The book hummed in my pocket, but thankfully decided to keep the glowing to a minimum. I didn’t know how much of the world outside it picked up on—hell, for all I knew, it had psychic tendencies of its own—but it knew the fetch was searching for it, or at least for me. I waited, walking slowly as I dared, and reached the house after the door had closed. A light clicked on in the window—Morgan’s signal. He’d take off the iron cuff when I was hidden. River and Hazel would have moved out of sight, but they’d be nearby, ready to move in and help if necessary.

  I ducked behind the wall of the alley beside the house. I couldn’t see the candles, so River must have hidden them well. Taking in a breath, I focused on counting seconds. One. Two. Three.

  Morgan’s strangled yell cut through the air, sharp and painful. I winced, hoping he was in control of the situation, not the fetch. Screaming at a monster until it attacked from sheer annoyance was a risky strategy. Reaching into the spirit world, I detected humans, supernaturals, even a few faeries… and Hazel and River, just down the street, waiting for the signal. But no sign of any monsters.