Deadly Rising

by Jeri Westerson

  “A life!” she said with a laugh. “That’s right. We were talking about Erasmus’s tattoo. I never finished telling you—” She ducked under Erasmus’s swinging fist. “It means ‘soul-eater.’” She stepped back from him and smiled. “It’s his job, darling. Once you’ve done yours, he eats your soul. It leaves you not merely dead but…well. A husk. Unable to go to…wherever. Didn’t you know?”

  I stared at Erasmus. My throat had suddenly gone dry. He wasn’t looking at me. He was breathing hard, the flaps of his torn shirt swaying, revealing and shadowing the black tattoo. I’d lost my breath. “Is this true?”

  He said nothing. He stood before me, hunched shoulders smoking, and said nothing at all.

  I lowered the crossbow, and just like that, Shabiri vanished.

  I felt cold. And it wasn’t just my grandpa’s hands on my shoulders, trying to reassure me. “Kylie,” he whispered, “it may not be as she said. I’ve been studying the book for years. Decades. That may be a lie.”

  “You knew?”

  “I…suspected.”

  “Erasmus…”

  “Kylie,” he said, voice hoarse. He still wouldn’t look at me. “I tried to…to…”

  A scream. It sounded like a woman somewhere outside. I looked around. “Where’s Charise?”

  Doug scanned the barn. “She…she was supposed to be with us.”

  She screamed again, and I moved first. I ran for the door and was outside in the drizzly wet before the rest of them. I knew instantly where to look. The crossbow had armed itself with a different quarrel. Clutching it to my chest, I ran for the pond.

  I stopped myself just at the bank. Charise was submerged up to her hips, the water beginning to bubble all around her.

  “Someone help me!”

  “Aim carefully,” said Erasmus at my ear.

  I raised the weapon to my shoulder, closed one eye, and readied myself.

  Nothing rose from the pond, yet Charise kept screaming.

  There was a splash behind me. I turned too late.

  Something swiped at the back of my head. A hoof, probably. The crossbow sailed out of my hand and I went down, stunned with pain. I heard another splash and Erasmus’s howl above me. Water churned until it all fell away to silence.

  I pushed up from the mud and stayed on all fours before I was sure I could lift my head without getting sick everywhere. “The kelpie,” I gasped.

  Doug stood over me. “It’s gone. I coldcocked it with a rock.”

  “No, you merely frightened it,” said Erasmus, kneeling to help me up. I let him until I remembered, and then I shoved him away.

  “Don’t.”

  He stepped back. Hurt flickered across his face before he quickly masked it.

  I stumbled to my feet, retrieved the crossbow, and looked around. Bob was helping Charise from the pond and the others were standing around uselessly. The dim glow of my grandfather hung back by the woods.

  I waved the crossbow at them. “Everyone back in the barn. We’re having this out.”

  Once inside, I kept the crossbow fixed on them. And lo and behold, it was armed. A quarrel it had never used before.

  “All right,” I said as steadily as I could. “Let me get this into your thick heads. The Booke of the Hidden cannot be loaned out. It’s my family curse, and lucky me, it’s my turn. I didn’t know what the Booke was, what it did, and now it’s become my job to recapture all the monsters that I let out. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what would happen if I was killed and you took it. For all I know, nothing. No one else but me seems to be able to open the damned thing.”

  “She’s right,” said Grandpa in that wispy specter voice of his. “It can only be opened by a descendant of the Stranges. I’ve never seen it myself, but I damn well knew enough never to touch it if I had.”

  I shook my head. “I sure wish you would have shared that information with me. Or at least told Mom.”

  “Your mother did know. I don’t know why she never told you.”

  “When you died, she never took me to Maine again. In fact, I forgot all about it. Everyone in town forgot about the Stranges.”

  “I put the forget-me spell on the cottage for protection. I thought the book might be there somewhere. I never dreamed it was elsewhere…though I should have known.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I thought if I could keep the knowledge from you, you might be spared. But ancient magic doesn’t work that way. Did you find my notebook?”

  “Yes. I’ve got someone translating the Enochian now.”

  He smiled. “Good girl. It should tell you most of what you need to know. But…” He looked back at Erasmus. “I’m…sorry…”

  “My own stupid fault.” I choked back a sob. I sniffed, trying to rid myself of the tears threatening to fall. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have allowed myself…I squared my shoulders and fastened my aim on the Ordo again. Charise was shivering and, instead of Doug, Bob had taken over the job of comforting her.

  “The Booke won’t do you any good,” I reiterated.

  “But it looks like Shabiri can control your demon through it. If she can get her hands on it. And if she controls your demon, then we control him too.”

  “Didn’t you hear my grandfather? No one else can open the Booke.”

  “How about demons?” He narrowed his eyes at Erasmus. “How ’bout it? Can demons open the book?”

  Erasmus scowled.

  “Can they?” I asked.

  “I…perhaps.”

  “Great.” I sighed. “Doug, I think it’s all going to bite you in the ass. And I hope I’m still around to see it.”

  “I doubt that, sweet thing. Looks like…” He glanced at Erasmus with new admiration. “Looks like your soul is gonna be someone’s lunch. I hope I’m around to see that.”

  He flashed by so quickly that I didn’t see him move. Suddenly, Erasmus was in front of Doug and had socked him in the face so hard he fell back into the tractor, knocking down the rest of the Ordo like bowling pins. Charise moved first, and much to Bob’s chagrin, she threw herself on Doug’s still form and wailed.

  Doug was out for the count. Dean took a step toward the demon but then thought better of it. “All right,” he said. “Now what?”

  Good question. How could I control these guys? How was I to contain what they did? They could perform their own rituals anytime, anywhere they wanted. They could still try to get the Booke. How did I know Shabiri wasn’t at my shop right now trying to steal it? Something inside me burned hot with jealousy at the thought of her and her association with Erasmus. He would know what she was up to…but I didn’t want to talk to him. I was suddenly…frightened of him.

  “I don’t know. I don’t suppose I can get your word that you’ll leave us alone.”

  They looked at each other. Charise surprised me by turning to me. “Why did you save me? You tried to save me.”

  “Hell if I know. It was the right thing to do, I guess.”

  That didn’t seem to satisfy her. I didn’t care. How could I convince them to leave us alone?

  The barn suddenly shuddered. Bright light burst all around us. Now what?

  Doc’s amplified voice, deep and loud, shook the whole building. “Behold the wind, behold the rain! Cursed evil, I bind thee! Release the white, the good!”

  The barn shook again and the light faded. The Wiccans stood in the doorway, scrying stick held high, shining brightly. I was pretty darned glad to see them.

  “You guys. Thank goodness.”

  “Thank goddess,” Doc corrected. “Now Doug…oh. Is he all right?” He switched to doctor mode and almost went over there but Dean Fitch blocked his way.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  Doug was already starting to move and moan as Charise ministered to him.

  “Well then,” said Doc. He seemed relieved, even for all his mage theatrics. “Our people will be going now. I’v
e put a spell on this place to keep you all here. I’m not sure how long it will last. It might be an hour. It might be a few days. But I want you all to take this time to reconsider your ways. Look at what you’re doing. I helped all of you into this world, dammit, and I don’t want to be the one to kick you out of it. Now either all of you behave yourselves or we’re going to have to do something really nasty. And I don’t want that either. Doug Bradbury, I’m ashamed of you. I’m ashamed of all of you.” The Ordo looked chastened, but Doug, who was just sitting up, didn’t seem too repentant to me. “We’re going to go now.” Doc gestured to me and we backed out the door. The spell released us from the barn and, remarkably, Erasmus too. I thought it was supposed to contain all the evil.

  Grandpa glided out and followed us down the road to where they had parked their car. Doc’s decrepit Rambler was there and the Wiccans climbed into it while Doc put his arm around my shoulders and led me to the middle seat in front. He gestured to Erasmus. “I trust you can return on your own.”

  Erasmus stared sourly at his feet. “I…I don’t know whether…”

  I pushed Jolene aside to scoot out again across the bench seat. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Kylie…”

  “We’re going back to my shop. And I’m going to want to talk to you once…and then never again.” I slid back in the car and didn’t look up as I waited for Doc to shut the door.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Once at my shop, we all piled out. Surprisingly, even Grandpa was there. He glided forward and blurred himself through the door as I opened it. Jeff had been waiting and he stood when we entered. He pointed at the glowing specter of my grandfather but no one had time to explain. We gathered in the main room. Nick lit the fire with magic means, and we found our seats.

  I paced over the pentagram. Erasmus stood behind the sofa, trying to hide himself in the gloom.

  “Okay. I want to have this out, Erasmus. I want you to tell them, tell everyone what Shabiri said. And I want details.”

  Erasmus wore a stoic expression and grasped one of his wrists, resting it in front of him. His shirt was still hanging open. I supposed he didn’t need to bother with hiding the tattoo anymore.

  He said nothing for a moment. His frown was deep, his expression pensive. But when he raised his dark eyes, he scanned everyone in the room, as if daring them to say something. Lastly, his gaze fell on me, and it softened a fraction. “This mark,” he began, gesturing toward his chest, “means…what I am. ‘Soul-eater.’ You asked me once if I ever ate, and I told you that you wouldn’t want to know. Well. There it is. I eat the souls of the Chosen Hosts.”

  Everyone burst out with exclamations. Jolene jumped to her feet, looking like she was ready to hurl a curse at him. Seraphina began an incantation. Nick looked ready to punch him. Jeff growled, his hair standing on end, ears growing. Erasmus allowed it for a moment before he raised his hands, palms out like a traffic cop. The effect was immediate. They each fought against it but found themselves seated again, pushed into their places, mouths glued shut.

  I didn’t know he had that kind of power. He’d never used it before. But there was far too much I didn’t know about him.

  “Kylie has asked for an explanation and I shall give it without interruption.” He calmed himself, stopped the smoke that had begun to unfurl from his coat, and took a breath. “It is what I am. It is what I was created for. The Chosen Host was to restore order, to return that which she had unleashed upon the world. And to make certain the book was secure, the demon of the book was charged with…disposing of her, to stop her from ever opening the gateway again.” His eyes turned to me then, burning like the last slash of light at sunset, or the flash of a lightning bolt. “I know of no way to destroy the book, and so your ancestors were doomed to open it again and again. The Powers That Be, though they might find the book amusing, hide the fact that they cannot destroy it either, and so they sent me, created me, to guard it.” He raised his chin, trying for that arrogance he was so good at, but now I could see that it only served to mask his true emotions, whatever those were. “I eat souls. I devour them. And in between the time the book is opened, for those long hundreds of years, I burn with hunger.”

  He walked slowly toward me. I held my ground for as long as I could, but then the fear took over and I backed away. “I consume not the body but the spirit and leave behind a shell that soon dies. For without the soul, the body is nothing. A husk. A carapace. It is my singular function. And I do so with delight.” I backed against the wall and couldn’t move away. His eyes. They were consumed with hunger. How long had it been? Since Constance Howland’s day, almost three hundred years? “But hear me, Kylie Strange, before these witnesses. I have eaten the souls of all your ancestors. But I will not eat yours. Do you understand me? I will not.”

  Breathing hard, trembling, I said, “I…don’t…believe…you.”

  His eyes widened a fraction. “Believe it.”

  “Demons lie.”

  “I am not lying. I won’t lie to you. I can, but I won’t.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t speak.

  “And now I leave you. If you should ever need me, all you need do is call out my name. I will come, Kylie. I will help you at this dread task. You only need call me.”

  “I won’t.”

  He winced. I doubt the others noticed it, but I did. “I make you this vow. I will not harm you. I will not.” His eyes were on me a moment more and then they weren’t. He’d vanished.

  I don’t know how long we all stood in silence. But the logs had burnt down to a smoldering gray and glowed red under the ash in the grate.

  Doc cleared his throat. “Kylie…I…don’t know what to say…”

  “Then don’t say anything. I knew the moment this began that it wasn’t going to be all tickertape parades when I was done. At least now I know the whole truth.”

  “I hate to say this,” said Nick, “but he really sounded sincere.”

  Seraphina glared at him. “Kylie’s right. She can’t believe him.”

  “Way to give her hope, Esther!”

  “Her numerology said…”

  “Oh, not with that crackpot stuff again.”

  “Guys!” said Jolene. The feuding duo stopped and looked at her. “Her grandfather is trying to say something,” she said quietly.

  I looked to the shadows where the specter of my grandfather hovered. Maybe he’d been trying to speak for some time but his ghost voice was too quiet. I walked toward him. He smiled kindly.

  “Kylie, I have to go. I’ve stayed on this plane too long as it is.” He glanced toward the clock. It was after midnight. “I want to tell you to be strong. You were always so strong. Just like your father. You make the same facial expressions; did you know that?” His smile faded. “You’ll have to be strong. I know you can be. I know you’ll do what is right. Now…I’m not certain if I can return to you…”

  “No, Grandpa. There…there are so many things I want to ask you.” I wanted to hug him, feel his arms around me, but he was only spirit. There were no arms to feel.

  “I know, sweetpea, but things just don’t work that way on this plane. I’ll try, but I can’t promise. I just wanted to say, I don’t know much about demons—I did write down what I knew in the notebook—but from what I’ve learned in these last two decades…that demon of the book, that Erasmus…he doesn’t sound like any demon I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Grandpa…”

  “I’m serious. Serious as a heart attack.” He grinned. “Listen, these folks are from Moody Bog.” He gestured toward the Wiccans. “I trust them. You can too. You can’t do this alone. You’re gonna want to, because you’re a Strange and we usually go our own way. But this time you don’t have to. Listen to them, sweetpea. Do that for me?”

  The tears were salty when they tracked down to my lips. “Okay.”

  “I love you, Kylie. Be strong.”

  He faded. He kept looking at me and
blinking, until he dispersed completely and the glow was gone.

  I lay in bed the next morning, staring at the ceiling. Why get up? Why bother? Why even open the shop? It was all for nothing. I catch a kelpie or it catches me. If I survived this, there was that werewolf, another creature to capture. And then another. How many until I was done? And when I was done…what then? Was Erasmus lying? Why would he promise that? Grandpa thought it was unusual, but it could all just be lies, lies trying to lull me into a false sense of security, and then wham! Soul eaten.

  That thought was so awful. I didn’t know what it meant. I never really went in for all the religious trappings of Heaven and Hell, souls and demons. But now I needed a crash course.

  I dragged my body, heavy with anguish, out of bed, wrapped myself in my terry robe, and sat at my little desk. I opened my laptop and began searching. Souls. Demons. Soul-eaters. I found all the usual things, Judeo-Christian theology. It was all the same information I had heard before as far as I could tell. I looked up Asian religions, read about souls and reincarnation, but there was little there to be had. Maybe Jolene could search deeper. Heck, she probably already was.

  Maybe I should talk to Reverend Howard.

  It was too early to call him, too early to open the shop. Should I just hunt this kelpie and be done with it?

  But as I contemplated calling Reverend Howard, I thought about Daniel Parker and why he had etched the seal of an assassin demon on his janitor closet floor. Maybe it was time to pay him a call.

  I took a quick shower on a bed of wet towels. I didn’t want any puddles around me where the kelpie could get me unaware. I never even made coffee or boiled water for the samovars. I just grabbed my keys and the crossbow and headed for the car.

  As I drove, I wondered how Daniel Parker played into all this. Was he some kind of mastermind? Could it be mild-mannered old Mr. Parker summoning up the apocalypse? I hadn’t forgotten that this demon—Andras—was some sort of killer himself. Had Parker already summoned him or was the demon yet to come? I wasn’t buying that Doug and his gang were able to do some of the things they were doing on their own. I mean, I had Jolene and Nick. They were the ones who figured out about the amulet and the chthonic crossbow. True, Doug must have asked Shabiri to bring him something like my crossbow and she probably came up with the spear, but how the heck did they get themselves Shabiri without help?