It was enough for him to drop Erasmus, who fell like a sack of potatoes and groaned, trying to crawl away, leaving a swath of black blood behind him.
Baphomet turned his eyes on me. He screamed again as I fired a second time. It only seemed to slow him down. I kept pulling the trigger, but it didn’t look like mortal means would stop him.
The next time I clicked, the gun was empty. Baphomet bore down on me.
I heaved the heavy gun at his head. It knocked his muzzle to the side, which only seemed to make him angrier.
It was over. This was how it would end. I backed up, but the doors were too far away. In the time it would take me to turn, it would be too late.
Something caught his eye. The Booke was still floating in the air, still pulsating and turning like some cheesy store display. Baphomet’s eyes shone with greed as he reached toward it.
The barn door exploded in shards of wood and splinters. A beast’s roar shook the rafters.
Now what?
When I turned, I blinked. It was…a wolf, but not a wolf. It stood upright on two human-like legs. Its barrel-shaped torso was covered in thick, black fur. Its yellow eyes swept the room and fell on me. The mouth was certainly that of a wolf—with massive fangs and salivating foam. It fell into a crouch and stalked slowly toward me.
Was it Jeff? I wasn’t sure, and I backed away.
Baphomet watched it curiously for a moment, before turning back toward the Booke.
I looked around for any help. Doug had been holding his spear, but as I watched, it abruptly jerked out of his hands and hung in midair. He stared at it, not knowing what to do. When his mind kicked in, he tried to snatch it back, but it was already hopping in the air toward me. I had the surprising presence of mind to grab it.
Baphomet snapped his attention away from the Booke. It looked like he’d rather clobber me instead. His steps shook the earth as he lumbered in my direction. His hairy shoulders swiveled with every stride. Just as Baphomet loomed above me, the werewolf flung himself forward and dug his teeth into Baphomet’s shoulder.
The god turned and swiped at him with his taloned hand.
It was now or never. I held the spear tightly and shoved hard.
The sharp tip sank into Baphomet.
He screamed and threw the wolf off him. It skidded several feet away and lay there, dazed.
I expected the same white light, the same ripping of the planes, as had happened last time, with Baphy sinking into the ground, angry but gone.
That’s not what happened. At all.
He yanked the spear out of his gut and let it clatter to the floor. And then he glared at me, horns tall and sharp.
“I know you now, Kylie Strange,” said Baphomet, his voice a combination of a deep baritone and a lowing cow. Enormous batwings snapped out from his back, spreading wide to touch both sides of the barn.
Startled, the awakening wolf whined and fell back.
Baphomet pumped the air and his cloven hooves lifted from the floor. The wind he created knocked everyone off their feet, and he lifted higher till he reached the roof and burst through it. Rafters, beams, roof shingles showered down around us. We all scrambled, looking for shelter. He lifted higher into the night, and I cast about desperately for something, anything, to stop him.
By the time I looked again, he had disappeared into the dark sky…on our plane. Even a plebe like me knew this wasn’t good.
The werewolf got to its feet, ignoring Baphomet’s flight. I backed away. “Jeff? Is that you?”
But I saw no recognition in its eyes. No humanity at all. It roared at me, spittle flying. I cringed back and covered my face as it charged.
Another roar and the werewolf was flung backward. When I opened my eyes, a second werewolf, one with a light down of blond fur, was attacking the first one.
“Jeff?”
The blond werewolf sank his teeth where he could, but the black wolf swiped its immense claws. Jeff whined, cowered back. He took a look at me, seemed to take courage from it, and reared up again to pounce on the black wolf. Fur and blood flew up around them. Jeff opened his jaws and lunged, clamping down on the werewolf’s shoulder, tearing and shaking his head. The wolf went down on one knee, but still wouldn’t yield. And I began to see the problem. Because it came from the Booke, Jeff couldn’t kill it. Only I could.
I barely had time to process all that, when the spear rose again and floated toward me. My Wiccans! Their blessed invisible selves had arrived!
Shabiri rushed forward, screaming bloody murder. “I told you what would happen if you interfered again, old man!” she cried. The space flickered and suddenly Grandpa appeared, holding the spear.
“Don’t worry,” he said to me. “I’m watching over you, sweetpea.”
“Grandpa!”
Brandishing a small pouch in her hand, Shabiri charged and flung the pouch at him. Its contents erupted and glittered all around his transparent figure. He flickered. He looked at me, wide-eyed and angry, trying to speak, and suddenly tossed the spear toward me before he disappeared with a flash.
The spear hit the ground.
Shabiri made a grab for it, but I was faster.
“What did you do?”
“What I should have done before. Sent him packing for good.”
“God damn you!”
“Much too late for that.”
We seemed to both realize at the same time that I had the spear in my hand. I jabbed it at her, but she jumped back. “What are you going to do now, monkey girl? Baphomet is free.”
“Not sure. But the first chance I get, I know I’m going to kill you.”
She seemed surprised by that, and then a little fearful. Before I could do anything, she made a hasty exit and disappeared, leaving Doug and his gang holding the bag once more.
I turned quickly to the fighting werewolves. They were in a clinch now, but it looked to be a stalemate. Except that Jeff would tire and he could be killed. It wouldn’t be easy getting to the black wolf. And would the spear even work? It was all I had.
Roaring and snarling echoed off the walls. Every instinct was telling me to run. The wolves tumbled over and over each other, fur flying, blood spraying. They came too close, knocking into me, sending me reeling back. Remarkably, I kept hold of the spear and righted myself with ninja-like reflexes that were all Booke. I didn’t have time to congratulate myself. I tightened my grip on the spear, got in as close as I could, and jabbed hard.
The black werewolf threw back its head and howled. I’d caught its shoulder—not a mortal wound. Jeff came at him again, clamping down on the same wounded shoulder with his toughened jaws. It distracted the black wolf long enough for me to take a second shot. I cocked back as far as I could and heaved the spear, wrenching my shoulder in the process. Holding on, I followed the spear with my body weight, driving it deep. Both spearpoint and I fell into him, my nose filling with the acrid smell of skunky musk and the metallic scent of blood.
Rolling away, I lost the spear. It was imbedded deep in the werewolf’s chest. He screamed, clawing at it. And then the familiar glowing beams tore through him, consuming, ripping ragged holes of light.
The Booke was suddenly at my shoulder, open to a blank page. The quill hovered beside it. I grabbed the quill and jabbed the open wound on my left palm. The blood pooled quickly and I had my ink.
I stabbed the werewolf with the Spear of Mortal Pain in the Ordo’s barn, I wrote, relishing the flourish I gave each sentence as the Booke consumed the werewolf that had bitten Jeff. His screams rang out over the roar of the fiery light as the Booke devoured him. When he finally disappeared with a loud crack, I dropped the quill and fell back, all my strength sapped.
The Booke slammed shut and fell at my feet.
Silence. No one spoke. Until…a low growl.
I snapped my head toward Jeff. But he wasn’t Jeff. He was a blond werewolf, mouth covered in the gore of the one who had made him, and he was stal
king toward me.
“Jeff, it’s Kylie. Jeff, I know you’re in there. Just stop.” I scooted away, but I really had no strength to get up and run if it came down to it. I knew I didn’t. “Jeff, you know we can help you. Stop, Jeff. Stop!”
His irises dimmed from their striking yellow, and he cocked his head, doglike, looking me over. He whined, looked around desperately, and finally bounded away on all fours, disappearing out the door.
“Jeff!”
But he was gone.
The crossbow lay on the ground in two pieces. Erasmus was still wounded, groaning on the floor, and I only hoped Seraphina had gotten Ed to safety.
I faced Doug, who looked a bit dazed. His Ordo didn’t seem as triumphant as I’d expected. Maybe the reality wasn’t as great as the fantasy. “That was…Jeff?” he said.
“Yeah. A lot has happened since the last time you beat him up.” Doug didn’t look happy. “Are we done here, Doug? Do you get it now? You can’t touch the Booke. Whatever Shabiri told you was a lie. You’ve got to leave us alone…or help us. No one’s gonna win here. Seriously.”
He still seemed a bit distracted. “You have your schemes, we have ours.”
“And what happens when Ed wakes up? He’ll have this place so surrounded with state troopers. You guys will be Waco-ed for sure.”
“Thanks for reminding me, sweetheart.” He seemed to have swept this new revelation about Jeff aside. “A simple forget-me spell will clear that right up.”
“I wish I could cast one on you to make you idiots leave this crap alone. Why did you summon Goat Guy? And now he’s free.”
“Just as he planned. He wants the book. Still wants it, I imagine.” We all glanced toward it, lying innocently on the floor.
“Forget it. I’m not kidding. Neither you nor your demon can get it. So just put it out of your mind.”
“Love to, darlin’, but my Lord Baphomet has his heart set on it. So if he wants it, I don’t see how you can stand up against a god. Even with a pet werewolf.”
“So far, I’m three for three, or have you forgotten?”
“I wouldn’t count on that forever. He’s a god, remember?”
I couldn’t argue. I didn’t know enough.
Where were the Wiccans? I had thought it was them being invisible and bringing me the spear. But obviously it hadn’t been. Were they okay? I needed to alert them that Baphomet was alive and on the prowl.
A car roared to life outside. A screech of tires, and suddenly the police Interceptor crashed through what remained of the barn doors, sirens and lights blaring. I jumped aside just in time.
Jeff, normal-faced but still with a heavily hairy torso, leaned out of the driver’s side window. “Get in!”
With spear in one hand, I grabbed Erasmus, half-dragging, half-carrying him to the car. Seraphina popped out of the back seat and helped shove him in. She got back in as I leapt on top of him, and without closing the door, I cried, “Go! Go!”
Jeff slammed into reverse and executed a perfect J-turn, screeching into drive down the narrow road.
I braced a hand on the ceiling and held Erasmus down with my leg as we jostled over the terrain, sometimes on the road, sometimes not. Ed was strapped into the passenger seat, head flopping this way and that. We made it to the highway and Jeff punched it back toward Moody Bog. But when he passed the turn, I grabbed the headrest of his seat. “Where are you going?”
“I’m taking us directly to the airport.”
“No, Jeff. Stop. Take me back to my shop.”
“Are you crazy?” he shouted over his shoulder. “That’s the first place they’ll look.”
“I know. They know where I am, I know where they are. We each have protective charms on us…but we should have put one on you. Except I thought you left town like I told you to.”
He grumbled for a moment. “I didn’t know that,” he muttered.
“There’s a lot you don’t know. Turn around.”
He drove until he could find a turnout. He pulled off the road and swiveled toward me. “What happens when Romeo here wakes up? Your cover is blown.”
“I don’t know. Doug said he’d use a forget-me charm. He’d be in a lot of trouble if he didn’t.”
“A spell? Is that what you mean? A freakin’ spell?”
“Are you still light on the concept of magic, even now?”
“No. I just…” He ran his hand up through his sandy hair. He stopped when he felt caked blood and looked at his hand. Oh yes. He remembered it all. That answered that. “It’s freaking me out.”
“I know.”
“I saw that…that thing fly out of the roof. What was that? Another demon?”
“No. That was a god. Baphomet.”
“A god? What the hell, Kylie?”
“What do you want me to say, Jeff? This is all new to me too. I didn’t ask for any of it.”
“Neither did I,” he said softly. He stared at me long and hard. “It’s not freaking you out though, is it? Look at you. You saved that demon guy and your boyfriend. And me. Without even breaking a sweat. That’s some new life you got yourself, babygirl.”
“I know.”
“You know. That’s it? And, uh, what about that damned book? Those guys still have it.”
“Not for long.”
“What does that mean?”
No sooner had he said it than it appeared on the back seat beside me with a pop.
“Whoa!” He jolted, bumping into the steering wheel.
“Yeah,” I said, sitting back. “It does that.”
“So it looks like you got this all sewn up. And now a shiny new spear to add to your collection of crazy. Fine. You wanna go back? Let’s go back.” He hit the gas and headed back toward Moody Bog, turning at the welcome sign.
He turned on Lyndon Road and headed to my shop. Doc’s Rambler was still there. He screeched to a halt in front and shut off the siren and lights. The Wiccans poured out the door and surrounded the car. When Seraphina spilled out, everyone took turns hugging her.
I opened the door and slowly climbed out, body aching. “Doc, Ed’s in the front seat, knocked out cold.”
Doc hurried to that side of the car, and he and Nick carried him inside. Seraphina and Jolene stared at Erasmus and the black muck smearing the back seat.
“He’s hurt,” I said. “Can you help him?”
Barely awake, he followed along, saying nothing. Jolene helped, and the two of them managed to get him into the shop too.
Jeff stood by the Interceptor and rubbed his arms. More blond fur fell, shedding off him at a faster rate. What I had taken for baggy pants was really just werewolf fur. I realized he’d soon be naked.
“Uh…Jeff?”
He looked down. “Shit. I’m about to embarrass myself, aren’t I?”
I grabbed a coat from the Interceptor and thrust it at him…not a moment too soon. He wrapped it around his waist and suddenly seemed to be standing on a pile of fur.
The Booke floated out from the car. I guess there was no reason to carry it. It hovered beside me as I clutched the spear.
“Are you sure you’re staying, Kylie?”
“I have to.”
He watched the Booke levitate.
“There’s one reason right there,” I said.
“And two more inside, huh?” He shook his head. “You’re going to have to choose, you know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Those guys. The demon and the sheriff. You’ll have to choose one of them.”
Jeff didn’t know about my fate. He didn’t know my soul was forfeit and choosing would be moot. Unless…unless Erasmus meant what he said. That he wouldn’t take my soul.
“I don’t have time to think about that right now, Jeff. There’s a god on the loose and he isn’t happy.”
“Yeah. Sentences like that…I really wish I’d left that first time. But now…I can’t leave.”
“
I meant what I said. You can live at my grandpa’s old house.”
“That was him, wasn’t it? A ghost.” He shook his head. “A ghost, a werewolf, and a demon. This is turning into its own horror franchise.”
I laughed. I didn’t know I could still do that.
“The wolf,” he said, gesturing to himself. “It got out. I didn’t mean for it to. But when they took Seraphina and then I smelled…him, I couldn’t stop it. I went after him. It was a good thing, I guess, because…maybe I helped a little?”
“You helped a lot. And you remember it all.”
“Yeah, it’s not like in the movies. It’s…real.”
“I know.”
He looked around forlornly, measuring the dark street. He shivered. His chest was bare, after all, no more fur left. “Kylie, I don’t like cold weather.”
I smiled. “But you’ll have a fur coat.”
This time, a tiny smile formed on his face. “You made a joke. Maybe…you aren’t so mad at me anymore.”
“Maybe I’m not.”
He hitched up the coat around his waist. “I, uh, gotta get some clothes.”
“Go inside. There’s sweats in my room. Go on.”
He nodded, ducking his head apologetically, and hurried through the door.
There was a long silence after I told my tale. Ed was sedated this time, lying on the couch. Erasmus was laid out on the kitchen table and patched up as best we could, an herb and honey poultice applied to his wound. He was conscious but just barely. I didn’t know what to say to him.
Jeff came down the stairs. He’d thrown on one of my sleep shirts and a pair of sweats. It was actually something he used to do…and I didn’t know how I felt about that. At any rate, he looked normal again. Human. I was glad he’d washed off the blood from his face and hands.
I paced from one end of the shop to the other, the Spear of Mortal Pain in my hand. I moved it from palm to palm absently. Baphomet was out there somewhere, and he wanted the Booke. The Booke seemed arrogant about that, freely following me as I paced, seeming to not want to be sneaky anymore.
“I’m sorry we weren’t there,” said Doc for the umpteenth time. “We just couldn’t find the luna moth wings. We were fixing to head out anyway when you came back.”
Deadly Rising Page 24
