The Cursing Stones

by Sonya Bateman

  “Stuff it, Brigid. And quit calling her that, will you?”

  “Whatever,” Brigid huffed, walking past Rain toward the cash register with a dismissive gesture. “Might as well get to cleaning, since it’s all you’re good for.”

  Kincaid opened his mouth, but Rain shook her head and held a hand up to stop him. It was useless fighting with Brigid, and she had to talk to him anyway. “Thanks for that,” she said, meaning both Walsh and his sister. She glanced back, saw Brigid settling in with her iPad to ignore everyone for the day, and moved closer to speak in a low voice. “Listen, there’s something we have to do tonight,” she said.

  “Please tell me it’s not another beastie,” Kincaid practically groaned.

  “Honestly, we can’t worry about whatever happened to Bryan Cleary,” she said. “I know it sounds harsh, but that’s over and done with. And we need to go after the source.”

  He frowned. “Do we know what the source is?”

  “Sort of.” She’d tell him about the faerie circle later, when Brigid wasn’t in the same room. With another quick look back to ensure that Brigid had her headphones in and was busy strenuously ignoring them both, she said, “Meet me here tonight, around eleven? I’ll explain everything then.”

  Kincaid let out a breath. “Why do I have the feeling our esteemed clan leader’s already ‘volunteered’ me for whatever this is?”

  “Because you’re a genius.” She smiled at him. “Don’t worry. There’s absolutely no ghosties, ghoulies or beasties involved in this one.”

  “Aye, of course not. Y’know, Rain, for some reason that doesn’t make me feel better.” He flashed a crooked smile. “See you tonight, then.”

  “Thanks, Kincaid.”

  He waved and left the shop, and Rain looked around for the broom. Might as well sweep the floor for the hundredth time in a week — even though there wouldn’t be enough customers to dirty the place. The villagers weren’t afraid enough to come to the druids for help. Not yet, anyway. But as news of this second death spread, they would get there.

  They had to find whoever was using the cursing stones. Before anyone else died.

  Chapter 46

  Bairnskill Village –Town Square

  Kincaid was about as happy as Rain thought he’d be about the plan. Which was to say, not in the least.

  “All right, tell me again,” he said, looking down the street from where he’d parked the bike behind the village laundry to the police station on the next block. “Because it sounded like y’said we’re to break into the constabulary and steal some evidence.”

  “Well then, you heard right. That’s exactly what I said.”

  “You’re gone in the head. You know that?” He sighed, unzipped a saddle bag and drew his kit out. “Fat lot of good this’ll do me when we get caught,” he said.

  She smirked. “You mean if we get caught?”

  “Aye, that.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, then.”

  She led the way toward the back of the building, looking around at the village proper for perhaps the first time since she’d come back to Parthas. It’d been so different in the States. Here, there were cobblestone streets and iron lamp posts, little shops and stalls mingling with larger buildings, meticulously tended trees and flowers everywhere. Barely a car to be seen, and no one but the two of them out wandering at half-past eleven on a weekday.

  At least it was just the two of them. Until a figure in a hooded cloak darted from the shadows at the back of the constabulary and headed in their direction.

  Kincaid noticed and grabbed her arm. “Just keep walking,” he hissed. “Don’t make eye contact. We’ll circle back round and hope whoever that is’ll buzz off.”

  “You sound like you’ve done this before,” she said under her breath.

  “Broken in somewhere, yeah. This place? Hell no.”

  She smiled and made a mental note to ask exactly where he’d broken into later.

  The figure was maybe twenty feet from them now and showed no sign of deviating course. She ignored the hooded person and kept going, past the police station, until the figure was out of her peripheral vision.

  That was when a familiar and completely unexpected voice behind her said, “Missed your stop, didn’t you?”

  She froze and held in a groan. At the same time, Kincaid whisper-shouted, “Brigid! What did I tell you about following me?”

  The girl made a dismissive sound. “Wasn’t following you, jackass. I’ve been here ten minutes already, waiting for you lot.”

  “Seriously?” Rain turned slowly, noting that Kincaid was already glaring death at his sister. “How did you even know we were coming—” She bit off mentioning the constabulary. No way she’d admit that’s what they were doing. “Into the village?” she finished.

  “You mean to break into the station. Don’t bother saying otherwise.” Brigid huffed beneath her hood. “Think I didn’t hear you telling my dear brother to meet you at the shop tonight? I’m not deaf, you know. I listened long enough to figure out where you were going, and then left ahead of you.”

  “Brigid, I swear to all the saints,” Kincaid said through clenched teeth. “If you don’t turn your arse round and take it home, right now—”

  “And tell Mum just what you’re up to in the village?” Brigid’s tone dripped with poisoned sweetness. “Well, if you really want me to.”

  His upper lip twitched once. “What do you want, then?”

  “Just to help.”

  “Really. Like you helped the last time.”

  She flinched a little. “That was different,” she said. “Anyway, you need me.”

  “No, we bloody well don’t!”

  Rain held up a hand and stepped between the tense siblings. She had no idea what this was about, but now wasn’t the time to find out. “Look, we’re here to get this done,” she said. “Maybe she can help.”

  The look Kincaid gave her was part fury, part horrified. “You’re off your nut,” he said. “Have you met my sister? She’s absolutely starkers, and I’ll not have her—”

  “Kincaid, please.” Brigid spoke in the closest to a polite tone Rain had ever heard her. “Let me help. Let me … make up for it.”

  “Not bloody likely,” he murmured, and looked away with a snort. “Fine. But if you blab about this, I’ll knock you flat. Sister or not.”

  She shifted beneath the hood, and Rain thought she saw a genuine smile for a second. “Come on, then,” she said, turning to head back for the constabulary. “I’ve already got the door unlocked.”

  Kincaid fell in behind her, and Rain went next to him. “How’d you get here, anyway?” he muttered. “On your broomstick?”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Brigid said without turning. “Borrowed Mum’s cart.”

  “Fantastic. And you know who’ll get skinned alive for that.”

  “She won’t find out.”

  “Better not.”

  At least the two of them stopped bickering when they got close to the building. Brigid reached the back door first, grabbed the handle, and paused to look back at them. “What are you going in here for, anyway?” she whispered.

  “You didn’t eavesdrop long enough to find out?” Rain flashed a smirk. At least that meant the girl didn’t overhear anything about the faerie circle — another bit of news Kincaid hadn’t taken well. Beasties in waiting, he’d called it. “We need to borrow one of the cursing stones Inspector Walsh took from the bodies.”

  “You mean steal,” Brigid said wryly.

  Kincaid elbowed her. “Aye, and who’s ‘borrowed’ Mum’s cart?”

  “Whatever.” Her tone was less abrasive this time. “All right, we need to get into the evidence lockup,” she said. “That’s straight through the morgue.”

  “How in the hell d’you know that?” Kincaid said.

  She pushed her hood back a little and gave him a sidelong glance. “Alroy Lennon gave me a tour while I was dating him.”

  “You dated that
plank-faced little weasel?”

  “Leave off, or I’ll tell your girlfriend what you did with Bitsy Flanaghan last week.”

  “She’s not my—”

  “Hey,” Rain whispered harshly. “Maybe we could be quiet? Since we’re about to break into the police station?”

  Kincaid gave an apologetic shrug, and Brigid rolled her eyes. “Just follow me,” she said, opening the door.

  As Rain followed them inside, she tried not to think about the girlfriend comment, or what Kincaid might’ve been doing with whoever that was last week. Even if she did care, which she definitely didn’t, she’d only been back home a little more than two weeks herself. It wasn’t like she had feelings for him, or thought he might have them for her. That was ridiculous.

  Still, the idea kind of stung for some reason.

  Brigid led them down a narrow hallway off to the right, and then up another corridor. There was a large set of swinging double doors at the end that read MORGUE on a wooden sign above them. Just before they reached the doors, an older man in a brown constable’s uniform emerged from them and stopped short, staring at Brigid.

  “Here!” the constable said, resting a hand on the holstered gun at his side. “Who’re you lot? You there, you’re that Nolan boy, ain’t ye?”

  “Stuff it, you old windbag,” Brigid said under her breath, drawing a small pouch from the folds of her cloak. She opened it with deft fingers, poured a pinch of flecked powder into her palm and blew it in the constable’s face. “Goodnight, then,” she said.

  The constable warbled something incoherent and sank to the floor, then curled up and promptly began snoring softly.

  Kincaid muttered a curse and moved to drag the sleeping man away from the doors. “Brilliant. Except he recognized me,” he said.

  “Oh, relax.” Brigid returned the pouch to her cloak. “This is my secret rollback blend.”

  Rain blinked at her. “Your what?”

  “Rollback. Puts ’em to sleep, plus it erases their last five minutes of memories.”

  “Really? I mean, I didn’t think anything could do that.”

  “Brig invented it herself,” Kincaid said, grunting as he propped the constable against a wall. “It works, I’ve seen it. But she refuses to tell me how to make the stuff.”

  “That’s because it’s mine. If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.” She made a face at him, and then pushed through the double doors.

  When Rain went after her, she almost ran into the girl. Brigid had frozen in place, staring in horror at something in the middle of the room.

  She followed her gaze to the gruesome sight of a body in mid-autopsy. The naked corpse on the steel table was split open and pulled apart in the middle—and as if that weren’t bad enough, the dead man’s throat was nothing but pulp and blood. His head was just about … chewed off.

  Brigid made an awful, thick sound and turned away, just as Kincaid came into the room. “Hell’s bells,” he said faintly when he caught sight of the dead man. “I guess that’s — oh, shite. Brigid!”

  He dashed toward his sister, who was wavering on her feet, and grabbed her just before she hit the floor.

  Rain glanced at them, then swallowed several times and moved closer to the body on trembling legs. “This must be Bryan Cleary,” she said in a choked voice she barely recognized. With a hand in front of her mouth, she took another few steps. Horrific as the sight of the body was, she had to try and find out as much as possible about what happened. “I’m no doctor, but I don’t think the black dog got him. It was something … smaller.”

  “Aye, maybe,” Kincaid said, shifting his slumped sister in his arms. “Come on, now, Brig,” he said gently. “Ye don’t have to look at him. I’ve got you.”

  She gave a soft moan, shuddering all over, and opened her eyes with reluctance. “No. I do,” she said, trying to straighten. “There’s something on his arm. It’s … familiar.”

  Kincaid frowned. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then. But I’m right here.”

  Rain looked from them, back to the body. There was something on his arm, scorched into his flesh. It looked like a rune — she just couldn’t quite tell which one.

  As she stared at the mark, she caught Brigid coming up beside her, pale as milk but determined. “It’s a rune, right?” she said to the girl. “I think it’s Jera, or maybe Eihwaz.”

  “Sowilo,” Brigid half-whispered. Her throat worked a few times. “The sun, the life force. Glynis used this one a lot. But … it’s in opposition.”

  Rain frowned. Opposition was something like reversed, but not quite. Maybe she should start paying more attention to basic runework. “So what does it mean like that?” she said.

  Brigid turned to look at her. “Retribution.”

  “All right, you’ve seen it.” Kincaid took his sister’s arm and steered her away from the dead man. “Let’s get the hell out of this room.”

  She nodded and went without protest.

  Rain lingered behind a moment as they headed for the door on the other side of the room. She spotted a clipboard on a counter with a sealed plastic bag on it, went over to look — and almost collapsed in relief. Being in this place was officially creeping her out. “How about we get out of this building?” she said, holding up the plastic bag.

  With an intact cursing stone inside.

  Kincaid grinned. “Best idea I’ve heard all night,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Even Brigid looked almost happy.

  Chapter 47

  The Apothecary – Next Morning

  It was going on eleven, and still no sign of Brigid. She was usually late, but not this late.

  Last night Rain had dropped the stone off with her father and walked back to the shop, so Kincaid could go straight home with his sister. Seeing that mangled corpse had seriously rattled the girl. It hadn’t exactly done her any favors, either, but at least they’d accomplished their goal.

  Now it was a matter of waiting. But not too long, because if Lachlan couldn’t decipher the runes by tonight, she was going to the castle. They had to stop whatever was going on. Poppy’s reaction to the faerie circle had scared her more than anything else since she’d come back to the island.

  She was sitting behind the counter, deciding whether she should temporarily close the shop and find out what happened with Brigid, when her phone gave a cheery ring. The screen flashed Kincaid’s number.

  “Hey,” she answered. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Were you, now?” He paused and cleared his throat. “So Brigid’s not coming down to the shop today,” he said. “Which you could probably tell.”

  She smiled a bit. “Actually, I wasn’t sure. Late’s kind of her style,” she said. “But now I know, so thanks.”

  “No worries. You’re all right on your own, then?”

  “It’ll be tough with all these customers, but I can handle it.”

  “What customers?”

  “Exactly,” she said with a snort. “Anyway, I’m fine. Is Brigid okay?”

  “Didn’t know you cared,” he said in teasing tones. “Aye, she’ll be all right. Just knocked her for a loop, seeing that. She’d no idea how serious all this was.”

  “That’s right. She doesn’t believe in faeries.”

  Kincaid laughed without amusement. “Reckon she does now.”

  “To be fair, I didn’t either,” she said.

  “Nor I. Think I’m convinced, though, what with the beasties and all. And that circle.”

  Rain nodded, thinking suddenly of what had ended up convincing her. Kieran. The ghost who wasn’t a ghost, the Unseelie who wasn’t an Unseelie. “Listen, I’m not sure my dad’s going to be able to translate those runes,” she said. “Just thought I should let you know I’ll probably head up to the castle tonight.”

  “Again?” There was a cautious edge to Kincaid’s tone. “Still can’t believe that lot lets you in there,” he said. “They’re a right bunch of
cold bastards.”

  “Not all of them.” A smile played on her lips as she thought of Duncan Aislinn, the so-called master of the castle. Something in her called to him, something she didn’t understand — but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all. Like she’d known him in another life.

  She gave a startled blink at the idea. Why would she think that?

  “Well, you be careful up there anyway,” Kincaid said. “Don’t trust those buggers.”

  “That’s funny. My father said the same thing.”

  “He’s not wrong all the time.” She could hear the smirk in his voice. “Anyway, I’d better run. Lots to do today.”

  She couldn’t help teasing, “Got a hot date with Bitsy Flanaghan?”

  His pause was longer this time, an awkward silence. Finally he said, “Going to help Mrs. MacRae harvest some angelica root. Look, er, don’t put any stock in what Brigid says about me, right? She doesn’t have a clue how I feel about … anyone, really.”

  “All right,” she said. “I won’t.”

  “Good. I’ll give you a ring tonight, see if we’re making any progress.”

  “Okay. Talk later.”

  They said goodbye, and she ended the call thinking how cute he was when he stammered.

  Chapter 48

  Aislinn Castle – Evening

  Rain’s knock on the small door at the front of the castle hadn’t been answered yet, and she thought maybe she should’ve called Duncan on his new phone to let him know she was coming. The one he’d gotten just because she asked him to. A sweet gesture, though she’d recently reflected that it might be a little creepy, too. The man barely knew her.

  She wasn’t entirely deaf to her father’s warnings, even the ones that sounded crazy. Lately he’d seemed a lot more credible than she wanted to believe.

  As usual, Lachlan Finlay hadn’t been happy about her coming up here. But this time she suspected it was more to do with his pride than with protecting her. He’d been unable to translate the runes, even a little. All he knew was they were definitely faerie, and it was an ancient dialect that had almost nothing in common with the Celtic system.