Scylla had seen enough of Savannah, Georgia during the month he'd taken the body of Remi Laborde. Remi still owned a house there, a townhouse in Jackson Square.
Or he might. The bank might have repossessed it by now because Scylla had gone through the young man's money pretty quickly and regretted it later before he landed in New Orleans.
The weather was pleasant and Scylla wondered what day it was, since life in Alfheim ran differently than in the Human Realm.
The man in the top hat stopped the carriage in front of a nice townhouse down from Bull Square, near Johnny Mercer's historic home. A man in a white t-shirt, like the other goons near the Cairn, stepped through the open gate and escorted Scylla and Rip up the path to the house. A wrap-around porch with rocking chairs greeted them, and a large, ornate door with a filigree glass inset opened as they approached.
Scylla hesitated. He abruptly knew what was in this house and turned to run.
A gun was placed in his face and he found himself staring down the barrel. Rip had also tried to run and set the closest of the men on fire.
Only…he didn't ignite. Didn't even noticed the fire, which didn't burn him. Three more of these men piled out of the door and pretty much manhandled Rip, slapping a hand over his mouth as he was dragged inside and then looked at Scylla.
Pissed at Hob for sending him straight into the arms of an ambush, Scylla allowed himself to be led into the front room. He noticed immediately there were no shadows. Not a one. The windows were open and angled just so. There was nowhere for him to escape.
He was left alone in the room, the door closed, and he didn't have to open it to know two of those white-shirted men were just outside. Men who were immune to a Djinn's fire. And they were probably immune to his own seductive charms. Not that he even bothered to try using them. Scylla knew the owner of this house was beyond such tricks. He could sense his power as it descended the stairs and stood just outside the door where the two guards stood watch.
Scylla jumped just a little as the door opened, unsure of what he would see enter. It was said the older Revenants were ugly and deformed, as their bonded human bodies took on more of the demon's physical attributes. He didn't know if this was true because he'd never met a Revenant that had been bonded as long as this one had.
Yet, the man who entered the room could have been the neighbor's son next door or the barista serving drinks at Starbucks. He was tall, and lanky, with a handsome face. Squared jaw, just enough growth to make him sexy, and thick, well-groomed brown hair. His eyes were an intense blue, which Scylla recognized as being enhanced by the demon inside of him. He wore sweats, sneakers, a t-shirt, unzipped hoodie and a smile as he approached Scylla with his hand out. "Welcome to my home. I was given word you were coming."
Scylla hesitantly slipped his hand in the Revenant's hand, expecting something cold and hard. But it was warm and human and a good grip. "You…were given word. By Hob, I suspect, in his ultimate betrayal of me?"
The man put his hands on his hips and laughed. Scylla could just make out his overly sharp canines. At least that much of the myth was true. He no longer hid his fangs. "Well, I'm sure it was Hob that alerted the Society to your arrival. But I volunteered to be the one to speak to you." He smiled again. "My name's Jason Lawrence." Then his eyes turned pitch black and his features subtly sharpened as shadows formed in the hollows of his face. His fangs slipped down enough to touch his lower lip as the familiar duel voice of a Revenant spoke. "And I am Mephistopheles."
Nothing could quell the quake that rippled through Scylla when he heard that name.
Mephistopheles. One of the First of the First Born, the children of Samael and Lilith.
This was no ordinary demon, this was one of rank and power. That power hummed softly around him and crept up Scylla's back like the fine pinprick of a needle being dragged across his skin. How could Hob have done this? Betrayed him to a powerful Revenant like this? Only Erebus was as strong as Mephistopheles, brothers under the same banner but so different.
Erebus was gone, now.
The changes to his human face subsided and Jason Lawrence's handsome countenance returned. "I sense you've heard of my companion."
Companion? Oh, yes. Revenants befriended their hosts’ souls. Leviathans destroyed them, after torture of course. Scylla licked his lip. "Yes, I have. And I am at a loss as to why I was brought here."
"We're not interested in you so much as your Djinn." Jason went to an antique cabinet by the door and opened it. Inside was a refrigerator, full of bottled water and what looked like punch—but he was pretty sure that wasn't a sweet kid’s drink. Revenants, for all their power and privilege, still required human blood to keep their connection to their hosts strong and viable. Without it…Jason Lawrence would have long ago perished when Mephistopheles could no longer hold on.
"My Djinn? He's not my Djinn."
Jason offered Scylla a bottled water and Scylla shook his head. Jason grabbed one for himself and shut the cabinet. "I'm afraid he is your Djinn, or he was. Hob's transmogrification spell pretty much reworked the…” Jason hesitated. “The detective’s curse that prevented him from harming you." He gestured at Scylla with the bottle before he opened it and drank half. Scylla wondered if Revenants got brain freeze.
"You mean that curse is no longer viable?"
Jason nodded. "Oh, it's viable and there are threads still there. I could see them. He’s still beholden to you and he will protect you, but if he sees an opportunity to steal a different body and abandon you, while saying he’s not harming you, he would take it.”
"But he was given a body. Why not keep this one?"
Jason went to the sofa and plopped down. "While he has that body, he's vulnerable to something he hadn't been before, when he overshadowed Mike Ross."
Scylla's brow arched and he remained standing in the center of the room. He was impressed at how well-informed Jason Lawrence was. Could it be he was using some sort of demon network? "And what is that?"
"Death." Jason nearly finished off the water before he sat forward and placed the bottle and cap on the coffee table. "Djinns are merely thought forms, given intelligence through sheer will. And having spent the past…oh, I'm not sure…century in the realm of Alfheim, he and his kind have developed a lot of will. They crave what the physical body gives them. Just as you do. Feelings. The five senses, of which two are missing otherwise." Jason held up his fingers and ticked them off. "Smell and taste. Those two are key in making an experience unlike anything else in any of the other planes, or realms, as you call them."
Scylla sighed. So far no one had tried to kill him or anything…unmentionable. But he was still wary.
"Please, sit down, Mr. Laborde," Jason said, once again shocking Scylla with the use of his body's previous name. "I don't plan on torturing you, just your Djinn."
Scylla did sit, but in a chair facing the Revenant. "Torturing?"
"Yes. You see…Ripp'n Jack was involved in a rather insidious plan instigated by my brother, who wanted Dags McConnell's body. And I'm pretty sure by now, after having met Dags, you realize he has more power than any normal Goblin should have."
"Yes. It's that book, isn't it?"
"Ah, you've seen it. Yes. The book. You see…my sister, Nyx, was a paragon of peace in our youth, and she always wanted there to be peace between the Thrones…you do know about the Thrones, correct?"
"Yes, the seats of power in the Abysmal and Ethereal Realms." He pursed his lips. "There is a rumor there is one in the realm of Alfheim."
"There is. But no one knows where it is. Well, I suspect one individual does, but he'll never reveal it." He picked up his empty bottled water and stared at it. "Nyx never wanted fighting. But when our sister betrayed us and we were exiled into the Physical Plane—Realm—then we became these." He gestured to himself. "To protect ourselves. Not all of us came here though. Nyx went to Alfheim, warning them that if they continued to wage war on the God Mother's children…there would be consequences."
>
"I take it they didn't listen?"
"No. And you see what happened when my uncle's spell-making power was released. She was in that realm when it was devastated and, as I've recently learned, survived. And she survived well enough to take a host. Raven. This host was hired by a Faerie to protect her son in the Human Realm. And she did." He set the bottle back down. "But now that Revenant is missing. And our intel says Ripp'n Jack knows where she is. So I intend on getting that information from him, at whatever cost."
Scylla watched the Revenant stand with a single graceful motion and head to the door. "Mr. Lawrence—"
"Please," he said as he turned. "Call me Jason."
"Jason…am I free to go?"
"I'm afraid not." He put a hand on the knob of a door and then looked back. "You also have to atone for your part in this."
"My part?" Scylla stood.
"Though my attention is solely focused on the Djinn, there are those who wish to impart on you the importance of keeping Dags McConnell alive. Because the Society of Ishmael and I believe if any harm were to come to him, the release of the power inside of him would bring a devastating blow to the worlds as we know them. I know you want to find who killed your sister, Charybdis. And I will strive to find that out for you because I believe the Obsidian Queen will not be as honest as she should be. Remember, she is human, and not entirely susceptible to the same rules a true Faerie is. Now, please, enjoy your stay. It won't be long, and remember…" He opened the door. "If you wish to survive what follows and keep that body you stole—and I have the means to rip you from it, Scylla—then you will remember to keep Dags McConnell alive."
Scylla watched the Revenant leave and heard the door lock. Without shadows, there was no way for him to leave, so he sat back down and thought over everything the Revenant said, trying to find something he could lock onto, something he could use.
The door opened after a while and two of the men in white t-shirts brought in a platter of cheeseburgers, the cheap kind, several two-liters of soda, and a platter of french fries. The shoestring kind.
Scylla smiled at the banquet set out for him on the coffee table. Well, at least Mr. Lawrence keeps his prisoners fattened up in the best possible way.
Twenty-One
SHE’S YOUR MOTHER
DAGS
It was close to four o'clock in the afternoon when the shrill whistle cut through the relatively quiet afternoon. Crwys and Levi returned from meeting with Detective King, who was at this time attempting to throw Prescott and the rest of them off of Mike's trail. The judge had denied Prescott a search warrant and she was furious over it.
They barely made it out before Prescott attempted to cajole them into looking for Mike, both of them conveniently leaving their phones in Crwys's Mustang.
We were sitting in the back of the shop when Grey started howling. And it wasn't the usual howl or bark to alert us to someone in the building. This was more of a cry of pain as she flopped on the hardwood floor and put her paws over her face. Crwys was the next one to react, slapping his hands over his ears, with Levi a beat later.
Kyle yelled out moments later until I stood in the center of the room beside the large oak table, feeling a bit helpless.
Then I heard something, but it wasn't a deafening or painful sound. It was the blare of a horn in the distance, and it reminded me of medieval movies of the sound the horn made before charging into battle.
Then a voice spoke in the air with command and certainty:
"Here ye, Here ye! By order of the Obsidian Queen, a Wild Hunt will take place tonight, at the time the Gardens become one. All huntsmen and their hounds are encouraged to attend. The prey will be announced before the horn signals the Hunt. Mist Merrows will be given to parties of five and ten. Coordinate with the Winter Queen's High Soldier in the snow glen."
Abruptly the voice vanished, as did the horn. I stuck my pinky in my ear and wiggled it. The announcement had been loud.
Grey straightened up first and licked at Levi, who put his hand on her head and stroked her. "That's a good girl. You heard it first."
"Hearing," Crwys said as he stood and shook his head as if clearing cobwebs, "their ears are the most sensitive."
Kyle slowly pulled himself up to his feet as he said, "What? What did you say?"
I didn't know if he was making light of the situation, or if he was serious.
Crwys faced me. "You heard the message."
"Yeah, didn't you?"
Everyone else shook their head. Apparently all they heard was a sharp, painful extended whine. I relayed it word for word, since it was still fresh in my mind. Crwys let out a sound of disgust as he put his hands on his hips and kicked at the wood. "Just great. So she's got Sam and still plans to hunt her."
"But that's good, isn't it?" Kyle said. "If she's to be hunted, that means they'll release her. If we can find out where, then we can grab her and keep her safe."
"And what about Ivan and Mike?" I said. "We don't know if the prey is just Sam, or if it's all three of them."
"She wouldn't put her own father at risk for a Hunt," Kyle said. "Would she?"
"She traded his life under the possession of a Djinn to get Dags," Crwys said. "Brendi's not human. Not anymore. She's lived in Alfheim for long enough under Medbh's control—"
:Don't you blame this on me!:
"—And chose to remain there. She's trying to become a Faerie. She doesn't think like a human anymore."
Kyle looked at me. "And you? Do you think like they do?"
I shook my head. "Nope. I wasn't raised a Faerie. Being a half one is still a pretty rough adjustment for me." I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "So we won't know who the prey is until they're released. It could be just one or all three."
"I'm more worried about this time of the Gardens become one," Levi said. "When is that?"
"It's midnight," Kyle said. He shrugged. "Movie reference. I get it. It'll happen at midnight tonight."
"You sure?"
"No." He glared at me. "But any insight you could give us into Faeries and Hunts could help."
"I told you, I'm not that educated on it. I'm learning as I go along. And so far, what I've learned hasn't made much sense. Alfheim's like a world with no rules, but the non-existent rules keep changing. It's insane."
"That," Crwys said, "is a damn fair assessment of the place."
We needed to make sure whoever the prey was, they were found and taken to a safe place. But the only person that would know who they were was Brendi. I knew I had to speak with her and make her see reason in at least releasing Ivan and Mike. But if I tried going through a Cairn again, I was pretty sure Morgana would just yank me back to her palace. And I had no intention of taking up residence in Alfheim.
Ever.
"What exactly happens to the prey of a Wild Hunt?" Kyle asked quietly.
I didn't want to answer. Crwys cleared his throat. "We're not sure, Kyle. I've never known anyone to ever come back from a Wild Hunt, other than the hunters."
An hour later it was decided that Kyle would try to contact his Aunt Arden, the one who owned the land the Cairn was built on, to see if she had any kind of control over it or knew where the other Cairns were. The reality was that the Hunt could happen anywhere. It wasn't local just to New Orleans. It could be in Montreal, Canada. Or somewhere in the Netherlands or even New Zealand.
They needed a network to find the release location and believed Arden and her connection to the Witch’s Parliament would be a good start. I was told not to move from the shop. And since Crwys had Grey guarding the front door and they were all seated in the break room in full view of the back door, the only other recourse I had was to shimmy down one of the iron posts from the balcony, if I intended on leaving.
Which, I was. I'd decided to use the mirror at the Cairn in Gypsy Gardens. It was the best way to guarantee I wouldn't be taken by Morgana, or Brendi, and I could still speak with her. That is, if she'd listen.
Standing on th
e balcony in the afternoon heat, I decided shimmying wasn't a great idea. Crwys had the keys to my SUV, so I didn't have a car and I had no idea how to get to the road where the Cairn and the cabin were.
I sat on the back of the couch and wracked my brain with some kind of plan to get from here to there—
And then I started laughing.
I could use that spell again.
That thing I'd done earlier. The only problem with that was I didn't know how I'd done it. I also didn't want to be knocked unconscious for a day like it'd done the first time. So…though it seemed it was the best idea, it had the worst consequence.
Pages fluttered inside my chest, so I stood and closed my eyes. I'd learned over the years that when that happened, the book had something to show me. It appeared before me, a very simple looking book with frayed edges and ornate, faded symbols. It opened and the pages flipped back and forth as it floated even with my hands.
And then it stopped. I opened my eyes and once again saw the complicated spell the book had shown me before. I still didn’t understand how I’d made it work before. Usually, I understood what the Grimoire showed me. But this…this was like advanced calculus on a scale only Hawking could understand.
I put the book away and took several deep breaths as I imagined where I'd been standing in the center of the Circle in Gypsy Gardens just yesterday morning. Had it really been yesterday? I recalled the smell, the feel of the ground beneath me, the sounds of the swamp, and the look of the cypress and their shadows—
Abruptly, I heard a howling noise and felt a pull, as if someone had turned on a wind machine behind me. When I opened my eyes, I saw the hole again, a dark abyss surrounded by a rotating yellow glow, filled with symbols, some of which I recognized from the diagram in the book. With another deep breath and crossed fingers, I jumped through.
Again, there was the nothing. No sound, no light. It didn't last as long this time and my stomach only twisted a little as I landed on my feet inside the Circle at Gypsy Gardens.
Chimes At Midnight (The Grimoire Chronicles Book 3) Page 12
