Deadly Rising

by Jeri Westerson

  “I don’t have to tell you that aconite is poisonous.”

  “To you and me. To werewolves, it’s like Xanax. It’s supposed to keep the werewolf from acting on his wilder, deadlier instincts.”

  “Doggie downers?”

  “Yeah. He’ll still turn, but he’ll be, well, mellow.”

  “That’s more like Jeff. Then if he takes this potion, he won’t, um, kill?”

  “That’s the idea. In theory anyway. We only have historical documents that say so. No contemporary accounts of anyone in this century actually taking it.”

  “Oh. Well, keep looking then. I’d rather pay you to do that than work today.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to pay me if I’m not gonna work.”

  “No, it’s the least I can do.”

  She touched my arm. “Kylie, this is not your fault.”

  “Everyone keeps saying that. But I still feel like it is.”

  She shook her head and moved into the room, suddenly noticing Erasmus sitting on one of the squashy chairs by the fire. She gave him a wide berth as she walked by. “What’s he doing here?” she stage-whispered, thumbing over her shoulder.

  “Studying a book written in Enochian.”

  She gasped. “No way! I’d really like to see that. I’ve never seen real Enochian. John Dee’s books could never truly be trusted, what with the influence of Edward Kelly. He was a complete charlatan.”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I didn’t pursue it. I was more concerned with the knowledge that my family had a track record of coming across the Booke over and over again.

  “Hey, Erasmus.” I leaned on his chairback and he looked up at me. He really was a handsome devil—when he appeared human, that is. But I had seen those sharp shark teeth on rare occasions. Too many teeth for a mortal mouth to contain. “What happens to the Booke if I’m…” I drew my finger across my neck. He squinted at me in confusion. “You know. I’m the last of the Stranges. If I’m killed before it’s done and all the beasties are still out there, does it then go on to Ruth Russell’s family?”

  “That is unknown.”

  “Isn’t she closer to a Howland than I am?”

  “You would have to check those genealogy charts to be certain.”

  “Wait. You knew this and didn’t tell me.”

  “Not…as such. But those particular puzzle pieces have fallen into place. Remember, I am only allowed to be free when the book is opened.”

  “Kylie!” Jolene hissed. “You shouldn’t talk to him.”

  Erasmus turned a cold gaze on her. “Go away, little girl. The grown-ups are talking.”

  She snorted at him and threw him a nasty glare. “When the book gets closed, Mr. Demon, you’re toast.”

  He bared his teeth and growled. I had to slap his head and admonish him like a misbehaving dog. “Erasmus! That isn’t nice.”

  “She started it!” He sank back down in a huff, but it wasn’t long until he was engrossed in my grandfather’s faded pencil markings again.

  I gave her a shrug. “He knows things I have to know.” We both left the demon in peace to gaze forlornly out the window. The rain was coming down harder and the puddles were beginning to form in the street. I watched the puddles as raindrops left rings in their flat surfaces. Jolene and I stood there a long while, mesmerized.

  It wasn’t until I had reached for the cold doorknob that Erasmus’s voice cut through my daze.

  I looked down at myself. I was about to go outside, without my coat and without rain gear. Why was I doing that?

  He must have read my puzzled expression. “The kelpie is calling to you. You were enthralled by the water, no?”

  As I thought back on it, I seemed to have been enthralled by water of some kind—dish water, bath water, rain drops on the window—ever since the kelpie came to town, before I even knew what it was. I rubbed at my face. “Damn. That was weird.”

  “It isn’t just you. I’ll wager there are many a young girl wandering about in the rain as we speak.”

  “This is bad, Erasmus. I could have frozen to death out there.”

  “Quite.”

  When I turned and spotted Jolene, she was in no better stead. Her face was nearly planted to the window, staring outside.

  “Jolene!”

  She snapped to and looked at me. “What?”

  “We need to stay away from the window. From all water. We’re vulnerable to the kelpie.”

  “Huh?”

  “I almost went outside to meet it and I didn’t realize it. Stay away from the windows.”

  She smartly shut the curtains.

  I suddenly didn’t feel comfortable in my own house. Everywhere I thought to turn seemed to have water or tea. This was bad. “Erasmus, I’ve got to go get this creature.”

  “I know,” he said, scrunched down in the chair. “But probably not when it’s raining. Water everywhere.”

  “All the same. The both of us,” I said to Jolene, “are going to keep away from running water.”

  “But the house is warded against the kelpie coming through the plumbing,” she reminded.

  “Just in case, I think it best we don’t.”

  “What if we have to make more tea?”

  “Erasmus can do it.”

  He spun. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You can turn on a faucet, can’t you? Put a kettle on?”

  He sprang from the chair. “I am not your scullion.”

  “Whatever that is. I’m just asking you to help out. I’d do it for you.”

  “Well, I won’t do it for you.”

  “Fine! Be an ass.”

  “Such abuse is uncalled for.”

  “I call ’em as I see ’em, buddy.”

  He raised his chin and stomped back to the chair, where he planted himself purposefully to sulk.

  I shared a glance with Jolene. Demons sure were pissy.

  We only had a few more customers before the sun set. I decided to close early. The rain had stopped, but there were still puddles outside, so I kept myself far from the windows. Instead, I counted out the till. Another day above water. Between the shop and sales from my website, it was looking like I could make a go of staying in Moody Bog. If I survived with my life, that is.

  “Erasmus.”

  He had long ago set aside the notebook to glare moodily into the fire. He didn’t turn or acknowledge that he’d heard me, but I could tell he was listening.

  I stuffed the money into a zippered bank bag and placed it under the register. Jolene had settled in at the other chair by the fire with her tablet. “Do you have any idea who might have been with my grandfather’s ghost? What creature might have threatened him?”

  Jolene perked up.

  “There is a Keeper of the spirit world,” said Erasmus. “It’s possible that he urged your grandfather to hurry his business. The Keeper isn’t fond of his spirits getting loose.”

  I sat on the arm of Erasmus’s chair. He scooted just that much away from me. “So…if someone is haunting a house, they have to get back into the spirit world before curfew?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I didn’t think the afterlife was supposed to be so complicated.”

  “Didn’t you? Why?”

  “Because we all assume we’ll, um, ‘rest in peace.’”

  “Whoever told you that?”

  “Culture. Religion…”

  “Religion,” he scoffed. “The least reliable source of information meted out to mortals. You’ve no idea at all. Forget all that you have ever heard.”

  “Doc and his coven seem to know a lot about things like this.”

  He leaned over his thighs. I almost thought he was warming his hands near the fireplace, but of course, he didn’t need to do that. “Yes, but they are the exception rather than the rule.”

  Jolene preened.

  “I hate that Grandpa was being pushed around
by someone. Sounded like he might have been in danger himself. But that’s crazy…right?”

  He shrugged. “I know little about mortals and their afterlife. What I know I got from other demons.”

  “Swell.”

  He glanced up at me for a moment before turning back to the fireplace. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.”

  “You’re doing your best.”

  Jolene frowned at me but I ignored her.

  “I suppose we’ll know more when the coven comes.”

  He rose so abruptly that I nearly fell off the chair arm. “Kylie, may I speak with you?” One glance at Jolene, who stared daggers at him, and he leaned in. “Alone.”

  I got up and went to the kitchen. He followed. Once I closed the kitchen door, I rounded on him. “Well?”

  “It seems to me that you rely too heavily on these Wiccans of yours. You should act.”

  “And get myself sucked down into a bog by a kelpie? No thanks.”

  “But there’s more you can do. You heard your grandfather’s warning. You must go to Hansen Mills and make certain the gateway they have opened is closed.”

  “I thought we already did that. Didn’t we close that vortex, or whatever it was, Goat Guy came through?”

  He mouthed “goat guy” again incredulously. “There may be more we don’t know about.”

  “The one in the cave?”

  “That we know came from the book.”

  “Grandpa’s spirit was pretty specific, wasn’t he? Almost too specific.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I don’t know. I’m on edge, you know. Everything’s coming at me at once.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Can you?”

  “Yes. My life has been an uneasy journey between the Netherworld and this one. I am perpetually at the mercy of…others.”

  I thought about what he had said before. “The other Chosen Hosts didn’t have a backup crew. My coven. It’s probably wiser to wait and find out what they think I should do.”

  “And in the meantime, you fritter away your hours in this shop instead of taking to the task at hand! More and more time slips away from you.”

  “Fritter? Excuse me, but this is my livelihood!”

  “And do you think that Constance Howland didn’t have to worry about her livelihood? Or Margaret Strange of Cheshire? Or Ailinor and her three miserable children in Hwicce? Or Elswyth the weaver of Tamworth? Or Aquilina of Carthage? Or—”

  “Stop!” I couldn’t breathe. How far back did they go? To the Bible? Earlier? To the beginning of writing itself? “Stop.” I leaned against the table, unable to hold myself up. The weight of history bore down on me. All those ancestors. And what had happened to them because of the Booke? What was going to happen to me? I swallowed, closed my eyes, trying to recapture my equilibrium.

  In the silence between my breaths, I came to the conclusion that Erasmus was right. I had been going about my business as if all of this could be cleared away like yesterday’s trash. Maybe the shop was my place to hide from it, not think about it. And I was angry too. I had sold my life in California for a new life here and I had only so much time to make good on it.

  But this journey I was now on, this ridiculous duty I was tasked with, wasn’t going away no matter how much I wished it would. Maybe I was hiding behind the Wiccans as well. I was certainly blessed to have them, but they might be a crutch.

  Erasmus studied me with a pensive expression. He was probably wondering if he had gone too far. I tried to reassure him with a half-smile. “I hate to admit it…but I think you might be right.”

  The Booke was suddenly there, vibrating on the table. And the crossbow, too, had appeared within inches of my fingers. I suppose the message was clear. I had to get on with it. There was really no more time to waste on dates and shop business.

  “I’ll need my coat,” I told him.

  He seemed happy to play the footman this time and fetch it for me, and without Jolene any the wiser, we snuck out the back door.

  I felt a little guilty leaving without seeing Jeff. As much as I owed him a visit, I couldn’t face him again without first trying to find this werewolf or that damned kelpie, even in the rain.

  Beyond the trees, the windows of distant houses shone warm and golden against the dark blue sky. A sliver of burnt sunset lingered along the ridge of the mountains. The foliage was wet and the trees dripped icy droplets down on me. But Erasmus was beside me, a sure and confident hunter, with eyes that could see clearly in the dark.

  Was I being foolish? Had I thrown away my best chance? My coven knew about this stuff, whereas I…I was still such a neophyte. This town. When old janitors could be black magic Wiccans and pompous Mayflower descendants could push people around, there was no telling from where the next bad thing could come. Maybe it wasn’t fair, getting others entangled in this. Maybe that was why my ancestors had gone it alone.

  Maybe I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

  I felt bad abandoning Jolene without even leaving a note. It was rude and possibly dangerous, but there was a little part of me that felt a tiny thrill at going off alone with Erasmus. Yet, as the night closed in on us, my thoughts fell back to the problem at hand. This wasn’t going to be an easy trek, especially if he expected me to get to Doug’s place in Hansen Mills and look for errant vortexes.

  “It’s pretty far to Hansen Mills, Erasmus. I don’t know if I’ll be fit to do anything once I get there.”

  “You are forgetting you can transport through me.”

  “Oh, yeah. I had forgotten.”

  He stopped and grasped my upper arms. Our gazes locked. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. For a moment, I wanted him to. Instead, he closed his eyes and in the next moment I was encompassed by velvety blackness and cold like the cold of outer space. In another blink I was somewhere else.

  I didn’t recognize this part of the woods, but then a car drove ahead of us, and I realized that the highway was just beyond the trees. Then I realized something else.

  I turned to my companion. “I don’t know where he lives.”

  “That gathering place is not his abode?”

  “No. That was a bar…a tavern.”

  “I see.”

  “Wait.” I dug out my phone. “Maybe he’s listed. I can find it this way.”

  He peered over my shoulder and pointed. “This contraption? I thought it was for communication.”

  “And more.” But just then it rang in my hand. It was Doc. Should I answer it? I decided I couldn’t afford not to. “Doc.”

  “Kylie! Thank the goddess. When you weren’t here, we thought the worst.”

  “I’m fine. I’m with Erasmus. Look, Doc, I just felt that maybe…”

  “Kylie. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, we need you to come back to the shop.”

  “Why? Doc, I’m trying to tell you—”

  His voice was breathy and out of sorts. “It’s Jolene. We can’t find her anywhere. I’m pretty frightened that…well…that the kelpie got her.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Take me back!” I cried.

  Erasmus didn’t question it. He enclosed me in his arms and I felt the cold of transport again. When I opened my eyes, we were standing in front of my shop. I burst through the door.

  “You looked everywhere?”

  Nick was ashen and Seraphina seemed less vivid, less colorful. She suddenly looked her age. Doc was sitting with his head in his hands. Jeff sat alone, apart from the others. He didn’t look wolfy, but he did seem unusually alert and agitated.

  “The door was wide open when we got here,” said Nick, voice a bit shaky. “And we couldn’t find either of you. We tried calling Jolene but her phone was dead.”

  “Don’t say ‘dead,’” Seraphina wailed. She wrung her hands, bracelets clanking.

  “I told her to stay away from the windows,” I muttered, looking out them myse
lf. “The kelpie has this draw on us. This call. Both she and I were mesmerized. If not for Erasmus, I would have gone out to meet it in the rain.”

  Doc raised his head. “And do you think that’s what she did?”

  “Almost certainly. Nick, that scrying thing. Can we use it to find her?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure we can.” He grabbed her backpack and rifled through it. We all turned when Doc pulled it from his coat and held it up.

  “I’ve got it here, remember?”

  They had used it before to detect our levels of, well, magic, I guess. It seemed to put them all at the level of mage, though I wasn’t versed on the different tiers. It was a stick with a crystal bound to one end.

  Doc handed it to Nick, who started mumbling an incantation. The scryer began to glow. The brightness pulsed for a few seconds before going back to normal. “Okay,” he said determinedly. “Let’s go.”

  Jeff watched the stick with awe. When we all started for the door, he rose. “What about me? Can I—should I go? I mean, that werewolf is still out there too. He can’t do any more harm to me, but then there’s you guys. I’d be all too happy to kill it if I see it.” The last was said with a bit of a snarl, and for a moment, his eyes went yellow.

  Seraphina laid a hand on his arm. “Remember your mantra, my dear. You mustn’t go off thinking of killing. That won’t help you.”

  He shook off her hand. “Maybe I don’t want it to help me. Maybe I want to kill it.”

  “Right now, we’re thinking of Jolene,” she said sternly.

  Chastened, Jeff seemed to shrink, his eyes returning to normal. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

  I pulled Doc aside. “Is he okay to go?”

  “He’s healthy enough, if that’s what you’re asking.” More quietly, he added, “Mentally, he’s thinking like a wolf. That’s not to say that’s a bad thing. I believe he thinks of us as his pack. He won’t harm any of us. For the moment. But that potion is going to be important very soon. It just takes time to make.”

  I glanced back at Jeff, whose face was red. His wolfy ears could obviously pick up our voices.

  “That’s a fine conversation to have in front of me,” he said sourly. “I promise not to pee on the carpet, okay? Can we go already?”