Deadly Rising

by Jeri Westerson

  “Which makes sense. Most objects created by the ancients had a significant purpose. The releasing of creatures could be incidental to its true motivation.”

  “Incidental? Incidental? Tell that to its victims. Tell that to Jeff. There are people dead because of this stupid Booke.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh good. I’m glad.”

  “Mortals,” he muttered with a sneer. “I—who have been intimately intertwined with the book, captured by its covers for thousands of years—I don’t even know what it does or why. Do you think for one moment I like this? That I like being yanked about from century to century, listening to the mewling of each Chosen Host as she does her job. Do you think I truly enjoy taking my—”

  He stopped, shutting his lips as if locking a door.

  “Taking your what?”

  “Never mind,” he growled. “This is my lot in life. I was created for this. And I shall be part of it until the end of time.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean you ‘don’t think so’?”

  “I’m stopping this Booke. This is the last generation of crap from it. Its days of taking a Chosen Host are over. My family…” I laughed thinking about it. It’s our curse. Did we bring it over to the New World? How long had my ancient ancestors been entrusted with this thing? Cursed by it? “When I close the cover of this Booke, it isn’t opening again for anyone else.”

  He folded his arms. “Oh, how the arrogance of the human race astounds me. Go on. Tell me. Explain exactly how you are going to do that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’ve got my Wiccans. We’ll figure something out. I’m not alone, you know.”

  His expression faded and his arms fell away from his chest. “I see. You…you think to succeed where others have failed. Well…the others were alone. Perhaps…perhaps there may be something to what you say.”

  That gave me hope. No, I wasn’t alone. If those other Chosen Hosts had struck out on their own without any backup, then of course they had little chance. Ha! I had my little army. There was a chance. But then…

  “What happens to you?”

  He looked toward the floor, his long hair hanging over his face and hiding his eyes. “Then I…cease.”

  “Cease. What do you mean ‘cease’?”

  When he raised his head, there was no expression, either on his face or in his usually expressive eyes. “I fail to exist. Or in your parlance, I die.”

  “What? No. That…can’t be right.”

  “My sole existence is to serve the one who opens the book. There is no other reason for my creation. When the book dies, so, too, do I.”

  “We’ll find a way. We’ll find a way to…um…unbind you.”

  “And why, by Beelze’s tail, would you want to do that?”

  I breathed. There should have been a lot swirling around in my mind, but there wasn’t. Only the aspect of this stupid demon’s nonexistence. I couldn’t fathom it. I didn’t want to. Striding forward, I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

  His arms were suddenly around me, holding me close. His mouth opened and his lips—so hot, so wet—kissed me urgently, as if this was his last day on earth. I tried not to think about that and just surrendered to simply feeling.

  He nipped my bottom lip and grazed my chin with his teeth. His mouth was on my neck and I arched toward him. I could feel his hardness through our clothing and I had a flash from about a week ago of my bed, the quilt, the body of a god, and the wildness as we let ourselves go. I had begun vaguely wondering about the kitchen floor when he suddenly drew back. I nearly fell backward when he released me and turned away.

  Stumbling, I adjusted my stance and wiped the wet from my mouth.

  His back was to me, and his shoulders were heaving with great gusting breaths. “Damn you,” he murmured. “We…can’t.”

  “We did once.”

  “That was my arrogance. And my folly.”

  I breathed, trying to control the tremors in my body. How he could get me into such a lather, I’d never know. Even harking back to my evening with Ed, it had been good…but it was never like this.

  “Okay. All right. Let’s focus on what’s important. My grandfather’s notebook.”

  “Yes. Yes, all right.” He snatched it awkwardly from the counter and opened it again. I couldn’t help but watch as he tried to compose himself. It hadn’t been my imagination. He had felt it too. Whatever it was that drew us to each other, he felt it like I did.

  Erasmus—strong willed, determined—seemed to set his mind back to the problem at hand. “Kylie,” he said after a time of thoughtful study. “Do you understand the implications of this?”

  “Just assume that I don’t.”

  “Your family is not just responsible for controlling the book, but for keeping the gate from opening, a gate that will destroy the world. But if the book itself is the key to locking that gate for good, then we must find the true answer for the book’s existence. It might be the key to understanding how to stop the book for good.”

  “But don’t you know?”

  “No! Don’t you understand? I only awaken when the book is opened. And it is opened very briefly every hundred years or so. My task is to close the book…And wait for it to be opened again.”

  “So…what do you do in the meantime? Are you like a genie, encased in a lamp?”

  “I never understand what you are talking about. No. I simply…go into stasis. Sleep.”

  “Well that’s a horrible existence!”

  “It’s the only existence I have ever known.”

  “We’ve got to get you out of this.”

  “I applaud your chivalry, but your energy would be better spent on how to capture the creatures and close the book.”

  “But if I do that, you’ll only go to sleep again and wait for the next Princess Charming to open the damned thing. Erasmus, we have to stop it for good.”

  “Right now we have a kelpie and a werewolf to capture. Each creature will get us that much closer to ending this.”

  “Erasmus, why was my family never told about this? About the Booke being a key. Grandpa seemed to have had an inkling, but why didn’t Constance Howland know?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Did any of them know?”

  He thought back and slowly shook his head. “The knowledge seems to have been lost.”

  Constance Howland’s fate was never far from my mind. “Erasmus,” I said softly, “what happens to the Chosen Hosts once they’re done? We know what happened to Constance Howland. But what of the others before her?”

  “What difference does it make? They are long dead.”

  “From where I’m standing, it makes kind of a big difference.”

  “Kylie—” He stopped. We both heard it. The sound of a car door slamming. A weird feral expression came over Erasmus—he even crouched a little, as if about to pounce. He moved like a cat with quiet steps toward the kitchen doorway to peer out the front window. Then his coiled muscles suddenly relaxed.

  “It’s your constable,” he said flatly.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ed was on the porch when I came out. He seemed surprised to see me, even though my Jeep was plainly parked in front. “Kylie? What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He looked puzzled for a moment before he straightened. He was in his sheriff’s uniform, Smokey Bear hat and all. “I thought I’d check this out since you talked about it. Aren’t you supposed to be in your shop?”

  “So…you came to check this out knowing I’d be in my shop?”

  “What? Wait, this isn’t coming out right. Ever since you mentioned it, I’ve been trying to remember Alderbrook Lane. I’ve lived here all my life, cruised these streets hundreds, thousands of times, and I’ve never heard of this street. It isn’t on any of my maps. I just stumbled across it. I must have driven b
y it a million times and never noticed before. Sure, it’s overgrown but…” He shook his head. “It’s weird.”

  Before he could think about it too much, I interrupted. “I thought I’d come up here and collect a few of Grandpa’s things. Some photos and stuff. It’s a little creepy, to tell you the truth.”

  He stepped up onto the porch to tower over me. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be alone.”

  “She’s not alone.”

  Ed was startled, his hand slipping toward his holster. I covered that hand with mine. “Erasmus came up to help me,” I said hurriedly.

  “I see. Kylie, can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”

  “I’ll be right back, Erasmus.”

  Erasmus sneered. “I’ll be waiting on tenterhooks.”

  Ed drew me away near his car and spoke softly, eyes flicking occasionally toward Erasmus, who had stubbornly stayed on the porch to glare at us. “I heard a rumor the other day. About your old boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend.” The automatic reply felt uneasy now that Jeff was…well, afflicted.

  “Yeah. Him. Well, there was a rumor that my brother and his gang roughed him up. Maybe even abducted him. Would you know anything about that?”

  “No…wait. Are you accusing me of something?”

  “I’m not accusing anyone. I just heard a rumor and I need to follow it up. Where is your ex?”

  Shoot. What to say? “He left. I sent him out of town.” At least it was the truth. Partly.

  “Do you have a phone number where I can reach him?”

  “You are accusing me. Do you think I hired your brother to knock some sense into him?” When Ed remained tight-lipped, I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God! You really do! Do you truly think that I would do that? Me?”

  “Kylie, I just have to check up on rumors, all right? I’d be derelict in my duty if I just ignored this and walked away because of the nature of our relationship.”

  “Oh, you think there’s a relationship after this?”

  Ed scowled. “Goddammit, Kylie. You know I’m only doing my job. How would it look if I turned the other way?”

  “Call him,” I said tightly, rattling off Jeff’s phone number. He got out his notebook and took it down. “Are we done here? Did you want to frisk me for deadly weapons?”

  He sighed heavily. “I’ll call you.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer!” I yelled after him as he turned to get into his car. He winced as he climbed in.

  I glared after him as he drove away down the hill. “Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” I asked as Erasmus came up beside me.

  “Unbelievable,” he agreed.

  And then I felt funny about it, wondering if Erasmus had pulled some sort of sorcery. But no. Ed would surely have heard someone squeal about it. Everyone in that bar had seen Jeff all bruised and beaten. Ed had to check up on it. And—though I was loath to admit it—I was a likely candidate to hire the Ordo to beat him up. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought of something similar before—not seriously, of course. And after all, as far as Ed was concerned, what reason would Doug’s gang have to rough Jeff up? And now he really was messed up.

  I looked back at the house. “It’s time to return to the shop. It’s already an hour past the time I should have opened up.” After I grabbed some photos and the notebook, we secured the front door and got into my Jeep.

  As usual, Erasmus was closed-lipped on the ride back, but I got the feeling he was a little too satisfied with himself.

  When I pulled up in front of the shop, someone was standing outside, peering in through the window. Erasmus vanished.

  I got out of the car. “Reverend Howard.”

  “Ah, Kylie. I expected that you would be open by now.”

  “I had an errand that ran a little late. Come on in.” I grabbed the photos—the notebook already safely in my pocket—and unlocked the door.

  “Looks like it’s all repaired.” He ticked his head. “Poor Sheriff Bradbury. Those two boys could not be more unlike each other.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” I set the photos down and was relieved to not see the Booke hovering anywhere. “What can I do for you? Did you remember something?”

  “Well, I—” He stopped dead as his eyes obviously swept over the pentagram on the floor.

  I hurried forward to…what? Block it? I gave up, letting my arms dangle at my sides. “I can explain that. My Wiccans, I mean, Doc and Company, thought I should have that for protection. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. And, well, maybe it’s working. Who knows?”

  “Have you tried a crucifix?” His happy-go-lucky expression changed to a stern one, reminiscent of a fire-and-brimstone Puritan pastor of old.

  “I don’t really subscribe to any religious belief.”

  “I can see that,” he muttered. So much for all that tolerance he preached at the Chamber of Commerce get-together.

  Maybe he realized how stern he was and softened. “I’m sorry. I was caught off guard. I suppose old prejudices die hard, even in an old liberal like me. If this is what works for you…”

  “Well, mostly it’s to appease Doc,” I lied. “I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

  “Funnily enough, my visit is about something similar to, uh…” He gestured toward the hearth. “That. After you left I decided to check out the closet myself and I found something chalked on the floor. Wasn’t a pentagram, but it might as well have been. Very peculiar and definitely not Christian.”

  “Oh?” I feigned a curious expression. I clutched my phone, still in my coat pocket, which held in its digital archives a picture of that very seal.

  “Yes. I immediately questioned Daniel Parker. He says he knew nothing about it. But he got so agitated that he stomped away. He’s worked for the parish for so long. It would be a shame if we had to let him go. Of course, I’ll have to discuss this with the church committee of deacons, but…I tell you. I don’t know. I wanted you to know that you aren’t crazy.”

  “Oh, thanks. Sometimes I’m never sure.”

  “Listen, he hasn’t been around here harassing you or anything, has he? I would hate for this to become a big deal that we at the church didn’t address.”

  “No. I’ve never seen him before except at the Chamber of Commerce gathering…and today.”

  “Well, that’s a blessing.” He wrung his hands. “I’ve never seen the like, is all. I mean, he’s free to believe what he likes, just not necessarily on church property.”

  “Maybe I should talk to him. Where does he live?”

  “Not too far from the church. On Hawes Stream Road.”

  “In Moody Bog?”

  “Yes. Lived there all his life. That’s his parents’ house, I’m pretty sure. But maybe you shouldn’t, Kylie, if he’s got something against you.”

  “What would he have against me? He doesn’t even know me.”

  “I don’t know. Some of these old-timers get notions in their heads. Maybe it’s something about this house. Something as mundane as the last owner owing him money and now he’s taking it out on you.” He gnawed on his lip for a moment. “Do you suppose we should contact Ed Bradbury?”

  “No. I mean, I wasn’t specifically targeted. I only saw the thing. It’s probably harmless.”

  “But you told me that some of these folks into this black Wicca are harming people. Those missing women. Karl Waters and that bicyclist. We don’t really know what’s happening, do we?”

  “No, we don’t. But I hardly think we can blame it on Daniel Parker and a chalked pentagram. What would Ed say if we told him that?”

  “Blessed Lord, you’re right. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He barked a laugh. “Must be going loopy. Look, promise me you won’t be going over to Daniel’s place. At least not alone.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. Now…let me get out of your hair so you can open these doors. We want this shop to be successful. All o
f Moody Bog is pulling for you.”

  I thanked him for coming over and saw him to the door. What a strange little town this was becoming.

  I shouldn’t have been startled when Erasmus spoke, but I was. “Perhaps you will allow me to study your grandfather’s notebook while you do…whatever it is you do.”

  I reached into my coat pocket and handed it over. Then I retrieved my phone, hung up my coat, and commenced…doing whatever it was I did.

  Customers came. This time I was sure they were Ruth Russell’s cohorts, but they didn’t seem to mind giving me their custom and ragging on Ruth at the same time. I was beginning to feel a little sorry for her. Everyone appeared to use her and her celebrity, but no one seemed to actually like her. Looked like I was going to have to go over there soon with a peace offering.

  I called Doc periodically to get Jeff updates. The answer was always the same. He was fine. Trying to cope. Feeling better, stronger. Then, when I wasn’t calling Doc, I wondered about my grandfather and what he had said. The Ordo was definitely up to something if his spirit had bothered to warn me. Stop them, he’d said. And something about the “door.” If it was my destiny to prevent an apocalypse, then I’d obviously have to go back to Hansen Mills and face the Ordo again. And since the Booke was a key of some kind, it stood to reason that I needed to find this “door.”

  When Jolene arrived, it had started to rain. I pulled her aside. “Did Doc call you?”

  By the look on her face, I could tell that he had. “I’m really sorry this happened to Mr. Chase, Kylie. It’s pretty crazy, isn’t it?”

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “I’ve been researching it all day in class.” She motioned toward her backpack, which, no doubt, housed her ever-present tablet. “Found all sorts of useful information. But…” She lowered her head. “As far as I can tell, there is no cure.”

  My heart gave a lurch. Doc had said it, but it didn’t truly feel real until Jolene confirmed it. This was terrible. How was Jeff going to survive this? It was my fault, despite what everyone was saying. “Doc said something about a potion.”

  “Yes, aconite or the wolf’s bane potion.”