by Keri Arthur
And yet....
And yet, uneasiness was once again stirring.
But maybe it was based on nothing more than the notion that if something could go wrong, it most certainly would.
Aiden came around the truck and stopped beside me. “Anything?”
“Maybe.” I wrinkled my nose. “And maybe not.”
“I’m not sensing a spirit in that house,” Monty said. “Although there’s an odd pall of evil shrouding it that certainly suggests occupation by some form of entity, even if not our one.”
I narrowed my gaze and, after a moment, saw the dark shroud he was talking about. It was almost as if the air around the immediate vicinity of the house had been stained by its presence.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before.” I rubbed my arms against the chill that was gathering. “And the fact that it’s falling so heavily around the house suggests the soucouyant might have been here for a while.”
“Or that it’s an extremely old and powerful spirit,” he said.
“Well, she certainly appeared to be daring me to go after her.”
“Why would a dark spirit do that?” Aiden asked.
“Humans aren’t the only ones addicted to the thrill of the chase,” Monty said. “And for the very old spirits, the prospect of danger or of being caught and killed is the only thing that makes them feel alive. Or as alive as the spirit would ever actually get.”
“Which suggests the spirit world can be just as fucked up as the real.”
“It can indeed.” Monty’s gaze returned to the house. “I’m not sensing anything untoward in that house, but that doesn’t really mean anything. As a fire spirit, she can pretty much blow that house apart from some distance away.”
“Now isn’t that a cheery thought,” Aiden muttered.
“It’s always better to consider the worst outcome when undertaking these sorts of investigations,” Monty said cheerfully. “That way, they’re less likely to catch you unawares.”
“Says the man who’s done so many investigations,” I said, voice dry. “Do you want to go around to the back door? Aiden and I will hit the front.”
“And if the door is locked?”
“I dare say you’ve a spell that’ll fix that.” Aiden touched my back, his hand warm against my damp shirt. “You ready?”
I nodded and moved forward. Aiden matched my pace, his fingers lingering on my spine. Perhaps he sensed just how close to the edge I was.
That niggling feeling that something wasn’t quite right within that house grew stronger the closer we got, but Monty was right—other than the shroud, which in itself appeared to be little more than some kind of anomalous stain few would ever see or notice, there was absolutely no indication of any kind of supernatural entity nearby.
But there certainly had been, and very recently. The shroud would have dissipated otherwise.
I crossed the neatly mowed lawn, then skirted the rose bed that lined the front patio, my pace only slowing when I approached the shroud. Stepping into it was not unlike stepping into a kind of supernatural fog—it clung unpleasantly to my skin, but there was no threat or harm in it. I continued up the steps and along the patio to the door. It was locked, but that was easily enough remedied.
“Just as well you witches are generally a law-abiding lot,” Aiden said as I pushed the door open. “Because you’d sure as hell make brilliant burglars.”
“It’s that whole ‘what you do to others comes back threefold’ rule thing that keeps us on the straight and narrow more than anything else.” My gaze swept the dark hall beyond. Shapes loomed, and the warm air was musky and stale.
“Anything?” Aiden asked.
“The soucouyant isn’t here.” I pulled the small bottle out of my pocket. Though the directional pull was fading, it still seemed to be suggesting there was something here to be found.
I stepped warily into the house. The light coming from the twin spells wrapped around the dying ember provided just enough light to pick out the coat stand to our left and the three doors farther down the hall. The light flickered and briefly pinned the first doorway.
I edged forward, every sense on high alert. Neither my psychic senses nor my witch ones were picking up anything untoward, and yet the certainty that something was here grew.
I stopped in the doorway. The room was darker than the hall thanks to the closed curtains, and the dying embers of the spell weren’t doing much to lift the gloom.
“Can I turn on the light?” I asked.
“Not without a glove. I’ll do it.” He pulled on a glove from the seemingly endless supply of them he had in his pockets, and then flicked on the light.
The abrupt brightness not only had me blinking but also revealed the room’s horrifying secret.
Lying on the top of the queen-sized bed that dominated the small room was a body.
Or rather, the complete skin of one.
Eight
Aiden stepped passed me and walked across to the bed. “Does this mean our two separate cases just collided? That we have, in fact, only the one soucouyant rather than two?”
I stopped beside him. The skin on the bed looked remarkably intact. In fact, it rather reminded me of a life-sized doll that had simply been deflated. There was nothing hasty or messy about the way this skin had been left lying here. Even her hair—which was cut short and gray—looked immaculate.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “The other skins we’ve found were left in untidy piles—this was a deliberate choice. The others weren’t.”
Aiden frowned. “What makes you think the other skins were abandoned involuntarily?”
I hesitated and waved a hand in frustration. “Gut instinct, nothing more.”
Out in the hall, footsteps echoed. “Aiden? Liz? You found anything?”
“You might say that,” Aiden replied. “We’re in the bedroom to the right of the front door.”
I glanced around as Monty stepped into the room. “We might not have found the soucouyant, but I think we’ve just found her skin.”
“Well, I’ll be....” Monty stopped beside me. “I know the legends all said that they left their skin to go hunting, but I hadn’t believed it actually happened.”
“If this is the soucouyant’s real skin,” Aiden asked, “then where did she get the one she was wearing in the club?”
“There is one legend that says soucouyants are capable of taking on the form of a beautiful woman,” I said. “But maybe they have to shed their actual skin before they can take a different form.”
“So what do we do with this one?” Aiden asked.
“We salt it, and stop her from claiming it again,” Monty said. “And then we set a trap for the bitch.”
I glanced at Monty. “I’m not entirely sure either of us has the power to restrict let alone kill this particular fire spirit.”
“Maybe not, but we have to try.”
A smile tugged at my lips. Nothing like having my own words used against me. “What about we call in Ashworth and Eli? They’ve been chafing at the bit to get in on some action.”
Aiden snorted. “I’m beginning to believe the lot of you are crazy.”
“That’s more than possibly true,” Monty said. “Especially when you consider I gave up a very secure, very well-paid—if boring—position to take up this one.”
“And I’m betting you don’t regret it,” I said.
“Hell no.” His grin flashed. “Never felt more alive, in fact.”
“Certifiable, for sure.” Aiden shook his head, his eyes gleaming sapphire bright in the light. “What do we need to do?”
“Liz, can you make the call to Ashworth and Eli? I’ll salt her skin, then throw a protection spell around the entire bed, just to be doubly sure.”
“And if she returns before you’ve set everything up?” Aiden said.
“Then we’ll probably end up crisped,” Monty said cheerfully. “But I doubt it’ll happen.”
I glanced at him curiously.
“Why would you think that when she’s already fed tonight? She has no reason to remain away.”
“Except that after draining that poor sod from the club, she then proceeded to make him crispy meat while completely destroying his car. That takes a lot of energy, and not even the most powerful spirit has an endless supply of it. I’d bet every cent I have in the bank that she’s out there feeding right now.”
Aiden scrubbed a hand across his face, the sound like sandpaper in the hush of the house. “I hope to hell you’re wrong, because the last thing we need this evening is another goddamn body. There’s enough unease stirring through the reservation as it is—we don’t need it developing into full-blown panic.”
Monty frowned. “Can’t the council just put a clamp on the media? They’ve got the power to do that, from what I understand.”
“It’s not the media that’s the problem,” Aiden replied. “It’s the gossip brigade. They never miss a morsel—and certainly not when it’s as juicy as this.”
“Especially when one of them was the neighbor of our first victim,” I said.
Monty’s gaze went from Aiden to me and back again. “The gossip brigade?”
“A force of nature that generally works for good but has been known to occasionally flirt with the dark side,” Aiden said.
Monty’s expression was somewhat bemused. “And that totally clarifies everything.”
“The brigade is a group of retired ladies who meet a couple of times a week to discuss all matters great and small,” I explained. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never get on their bad side.”
“Huh.” He swung his bag off his shoulder. “On the off chance the soucouyant does return early, Ranger, it might be best if you and Liz—”
“And let you face this thing alone?” Aiden cut in. “No.”
“Aiden, you’re about as useless as I am in this particular situation.” I touched his arm lightly; his muscles jumped in response. “If we remain, we’ll not only be targets if the soucouyant appears, but also a distraction, as Monty and co will be forced to protect us rather than hit the soucouyant.”
“Well, the co might,” Monty commented. “I wouldn’t be too sure about me.”
I whacked him lightly. He yelped and rubbed his arm, but the pretense of hurt was somewhat diminished by the laughter creasing the corners of his eyes. “How about the two of you just get out of the house so that I can get down to business?”
“Done,” Aiden said, and led the way out of the house.
As I followed him, I tugged my phone out of the backpack and called Ashworth.
It rang a couple of times, then a somewhat gruff voice said, “If you’re just ringing for a chat at this hour of the night, I will be extremely pissed off.”
I grinned. “According to Eli, that’s a standard state of being for you recently.”
“That’s because he keeps trying to mollycoddle me,” Ashworth bit back. “Do I look like the type who enjoys being mollycoddled to you?”
“Not really, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been deceived by appearances.”
“A somewhat common problem—at least when it comes to certain witches. What can I do for you, lass?”
“We have a situation—”
“Oh thank God for that,” Eli said in the background.
I grinned. “We’ve tracked down the skin of the soucouyant—”
“Hang on, hang on, back up,” Ashworth said. There was now movement in the background, suggesting Eli was getting things ready. “When exactly did the reservation gain one of them? Because they’re nasty pieces of shit, let me tell you.”
I quickly gave him an update on the situation, and then added, “Monty’s in the process of salting its skin and running a full circle around the bed to ensure she can’t access said skin, but he’s going to need help if we’re to have any hope of containing this spirit. It’s old, and it’s nasty.”
Doors slammed and then the sound of a truck rumbling to life came down the phone line. “Well, they’re not called evil spirits for nothing. Where are you?”
I gave him the address. He repeated it to Eli, then said, “And why aren’t you helping out? With your ability to call on the wild magic, you’re probably stronger than the three of us combined.”
“Except she’s dead on her feet and actually doing something sensible for a change,” Aiden said, loudly enough for Ashworth to hear.
I might not have had the phone on speaker, but I didn’t need to given the acuteness of his hearing.
The older man chuckled softly. “Ah, the sensibilities of a man in lust will always outweigh those of common sense.”
“There’s nothing sensible in Liz running herself into exhaustion and ending up in hospital,” Aiden growled. “We’ve potentially two entities running amok in the reservation, and no idea if even the combined magic of the three of you will suffice to contain this one let alone the other. Given the toll the wild magic takes, it’s far better it’s left as a last option, and used only when Liz is back to full strength.”
He opened the truck door, helped me into the cabin, then slammed the door shut and stalked around to the driver side.
“Well, that’s me told,” Ashworth said, clearly amused.
“Yes, but he’s right. I copied the spell Eli used to contain the essence of that dark witch on a piece of the soucouyant, but it’s really drained me.”
“If you want me out of your life, lass, you’d best stop doing things that you damn well shouldn’t.”
“I never said I wanted you out of my life, just out of my personal business.” A smile twitched my lips. “As I’ve also said, you remind me of my grandfather, and I really miss the grumpy old bastard.”
“This would be the dead grandfather?”
“Yes, and if you could avoid the same fate, I’d appreciate it.”
He grunted, and it was an oddly pleased sound. “I’ll do my best. We should be there in ten minutes.”
He hung up. I shoved my phone into my pocket, then leaned back in the seat as Aiden climbed into the truck. But I didn’t close my eyes, as much as I was desperate to sleep. It was very possible the soucouyant might decide to come back before the cavalry arrived and if that did happen, then I needed to be ready to attack.
Though how exactly I’d do that when I felt like crap was another matter entirely.
Thankfully, the soucouyant didn’t return, but the flip side of that meant Monty was right—it was out there somewhere, regaining its strength in the arms of another man.
Headlights swept into the street up ahead and raced toward us. “That will undoubtedly be Ashworth and Eli.”
“Yes.” Aiden glanced at me. “Are you staying here or getting out?”
“Monty can update them. One of us needs to keep a watch for the soucouyant.” And the less I had to move, the better right now. It wasn’t just the weariness thumping through me, but also the ache from the various scrapes and bruises.
He nodded and got out as the other truck pulled to halt. Aiden spoke to the two men briefly and then led them inside. The nosier section of my soul that didn’t want to be left out of any part of action regretted not following them, but the more sensible side was quite content to simply sit there and do nothing.
That side should come out to play more often, Belle commented. It might result in fewer aches, scrapes, and bruises.
That’s highly unlikely.
Also true. Her amusement echoed down the mental line. I found an interesting side note in the book on fire spirits.
And?
It states that those bound by skin will sometimes claim the skins of others if for any reason they lose their own.
I blinked. Which is what appears to be happening here with the skinning murders.
Yes. It also states that a soucouyant can often feel its skin being salted, and this will often result in a vengeful counterattack.
Which means Monty and co had better be damn sure they contain and then destroy the soucouy
ant tonight.
If she did feel her skin being salted, she may not even come near the place. She doesn’t actually need to—she can fling fire from some distance, remember.
Unease stirred at the comment. I leaned forward and scanned the surrounding area, but there was no sign of fire in any form, be it spirit or not.
Which didn’t mean anything. Not in this situation.
Maybe luck will be with you for a change, Belle said. Maybe she’s simply too far away to have felt her skin being salted.
I wouldn’t like to take a chance on that being the case—especially when she’s already shown a propensity to blow things up.
I think that’s something that goes with the territory when it comes to fire spirits.
And I think we need to start digging deeper into your gran’s books, and see if any of her old spell collections deal with deflection or containment—and not just for fire. I’ve got a bad feeling we’re going to be batting away all sorts of foul energy in the near future.
Aside from the fact Monty must still have access to the catalogue section, isn’t it his job to be worrying about counter spells?
I hesitated. Of course it is, but I’ve just got this feeling that we’d better have our own spells handy—and that we’re going to need them.
My, your psychic self is chock-full of cheerful news of late, isn’t it?
I smiled. Aren’t you glad your bedroom is shielded against the worst of my prophetic tendencies?
I opened the door and climbed out of the truck. The night air swirled around me; while it held no heat, it did hold power. The wild magic was near, but it came from the main wellspring rather than Katie. And there was a lot of it.
I walked to the front of the truck. The glittering threads of wild magic fell around me like a scant but powerful cloak. It was almost as if it was trying to protect me.
But from what?
And why, Belle commented. I can understand it protecting you if it was from the wellspring Katie’s soul has infused, but this is the real thing. It has no awareness and it certainly shouldn’t interfere or interact with either you or anyone else. Not without any kind of direction.
