Exhumed

by Skyla Dawn Cameron

  “Delivery guy said he tried your place and was directed to take it here if you weren’t home,” Peri said.

  Someone who knew both where I lived and Nic? And that I’d be here if not home? Someone who did their homework, then, which was my least favourite kind of person—that normally meant I had to work harder to keep on top of them. I eased the box onto my lap and Nate tensed next to me as I plucked the card up. How he thought he could diffuse a bomb, I didn’t know, but maybe he could freeze time before it took my head off.

  The card inside the small envelope was off-white, an abstract flower embossed in gold on the front. Inside was a message written in black ink: My deepest thanks. I’ll be in touch. M.V.

  “Ugh.” I tossed the card onto Nate’s lap. “I wish my secret admirers would realize I know a hell of a lot of people and don’t remember half their names. Who do we know named ‘M.V.’?”

  Nic shrugged. “Besides the person who texted you about the vampire witch in Quebec?”

  Well, hell. “Right. Did you ever figure out who that was?”

  She shook her head.

  So glad she was on top of things. I eased the lid up, ready to throw the whole thing if need be, but there was no ticking, no sense that anything nefarious lay within. Peeling back the layers of white tissue paper, I found two dozen rich red roses within.

  “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be jealous or not,” Nate said.

  “I’m not really a flowers girl.” I cast the box to the side and yawned. “I’m a sex magic cult kind of girl.”

  Ryann went about ten shades of red, which really was my intent.

  “Anyway. Flowers are nice but we have more important things to figure out.” My gaze moved to Ellie. “You were possessed by Sean, so out with it. What does he know about the Veil?”

  The kid paled and I felt a pinch of guilt. He might have to be a last resort because I didn’t want him totally broken at the end of the day. “I can’t.”

  “Once he goes back into Sean’s memories, he won’t come out again,” Ryann said. “We’ve had this discussion.”

  By “we” she must’ve meant her and him as I’d never been privy to any such thing. Or I forgot because it wasn’t about me. He came back from the possession and I didn’t hear any more about it—this must be why. Pity, too, as a look in the dead O’Connor brother’s brain would be really handy.

  “Okay.” For now. “You know, it’s kinda too bad we didn’t get a hold of the Veil last year,” I said with a frown, trying very hard to concentrate with Nate’s hand rubbing my ankle still, sending shivers up my leg. “I mean, yeah, they wanted to kill me, but they also wanted to avert the apocalypse. Maybe they could give us a ninja squad to go after Mishka.”

  “Um...”

  We all glanced at Peri.

  “Would a phone number do?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Omissions

  Nicolette blinked. Lips parted. “Pardon moi?”

  “Uh...” Peri’s gaze darted between all of us, lingering only briefly on Nic. “I kind of have a business card.”

  “You what?”

  Oh, I was staying outta this one. Should a lesbian smackdown occur, I wanted no part of it.

  Peri’s chair squeaked as she shifted. “Well, this guy gave it to me—”

  “When?”

  “Last year. Um, when you were getting kidnapped, actually.” High flags of colour stood out on either cheek and she glanced at me again.

  My turn, apparently, though I did enjoy seeing the supposed sociopath squirm. “What did they want?”

  “For me to join the dark side.”

  “As opposed to the already dark side you’re on?”

  She shrugged. “I tore it up, okay?”

  “So why do you still have it?” Nic managed.

  “It just keeps showing up. I found one in the cemetery a few weeks later in Osaka. Tossed it. Then another one a month after that in my pocket when I was doing laundry. They just keep appearing everywhere.”

  Silence. Nic was glaring, that burning, accusatory stare even more irritating because she was just so fucking good and kind, she made the rest of us feel like shit without even trying. When she did try, even sociopaths wanted to throw themselves into oncoming traffic with the guilt. She didn’t take her eyes off of Peri, the other woman beginning to fidget in earnest.

  “Look, I’ve been getting rid of them but there didn’t seem a fucking point, so two months ago I kept one and there hasn’t been any more.”

  More silence.

  “I didn’t tell you ’cause I knew you’d freak.”

  I stepped in, if only for Nic’s sake. “Okay, this is really awkward with all of us here. Can you just gimme the card? I’ll head out tonight, make the call, and see what happens.”

  Nate gave me a long look and I met his gaze—it was the dear god, don’t leave me with your fighting friends look. “I’m coming with you. Deal with it.”

  “Nate and I will go,” I amended. Of course, I had my misgivings about that—he might not be up to it—but I kept my mouth shut. We could go slow. If I thought he was in trouble, I’d pull the plug until he got stronger.

  Then I remembered that he’d torn the head off a demon a couple of hours ago. Maybe he could hold his own.

  Peri kept her gaze on Nic several seconds longer, but Nicolette swiveled back toward her computer, staring blankly at the monitor. Tense moments passed, but at last Peri rose and left the room, and as her steps echoed up the loft stairs, Nic flinched.

  Your girlfriend keeping the card of the evil secret society who wanted her as a member in your bedroom. Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over well when they got a chance to argue later.

  “How long ’til dark?” I asked no one in particular.

  Ellie cleared his throat. “Uh, four hours.”

  Oh god. Four hours of loud sex with Nate in the other room would still be less awkward than sitting downstairs with the others, waiting for dusk. “Anything on TV?”

  ****

  Nate had found a pair of jeans among the men’s stuff I’d kept for him that fit for length but needed a belt to keep them up. He’d fill in more during the next few weeks and fed from one of the VBA pouches before we left, though he made a face. He also gave me a “WTF?” look and cocked a brow when he saw a couple of the suits thrown in with his stuff, but really, I had to have him prepared for anything. We could end up going to a really nice party or something, and during the entire time I’d known him, he’d always worn nice clothes. Maybe not a cummerbund, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

  At least my apparent silliness gave him a jumping off point when he got talking with the only other carrier of a Y-chromosome in the room while we waited around. He and Ellie got along famously, and I could definitely see the beginnings of a bromance there. With them occupied, it gave me a chance to nudge Nic for a chat about Peri, if she needed, but maybe I did it wrong because she just shook her head and went back to work.

  Peri had a Chevy Traverse in silver parked in the garage. Leased, if I recalled correctly. She might not get it back in one piece, but it was less conspicuous than my great big truck that looked like a serial killer accessory.

  Nate and I climbed in and buckled up, him in the driver’s seat. He’d taken the keys from Peri and I hadn’t objected—sure, he hadn’t driven in six years, but he’d also not had sex in that amount of time and that turned out okay. Peri didn’t object either. She probably knew he was a safer driver than me.

  Nic hadn’t spoken a word to Peri during those entire four hours, instead going for a shower and a nap, and then returning to look at what Abel was sending. Peri the psycho actually seemed bothered by it, and I kept my mouth shut both because it didn’t concern me—and I wasn’t good at feigning interest in things that didn’t concern me—and because I knew I could bug Nic more about it later. See if she needed me to beat up Peri or something. I’d do that. Happily.

  “Where are we going?” Nate turned the corner and onto
a larger street from Nic’s place, eyeing the GPS.

  “Away from the house. Hell, they might know where Peri lives, but if not, I’d rather not lead them to where Nic is, and if you make another crack about me having friends, I totally won’t give you a blowjob while we’re on the highway.”

  He gave an irritated little sigh. “More jokes incoming, then. Just because we heal faster doesn’t mean I’m eager to get in a car accident.”

  “You can’t have a chick in your lap and keep the car on the road at the same time? Amateur. What was your sex magic cult teaching you if not that?”

  His right hand darted out to fold over mine, gaze still locked on the road, and he raised my fingers to his lips. His mouth brushed my knuckles and tingling heat rolled down my arm, set my nerves on fire, and a sudden orgasm gripped me. My spine arched, lips parted, and eyes rolled back, body shuddering.

  I slumped back in my seat as he returned his hand to the wheel.

  “They taught us that,” he reminded me, lips fighting a smile.

  Time well spent. I swiped at the suddenly sweat-damp hair on my forehead, turned the air conditioning on, and pulled out my phone. “I approve. Okay, let’s talk to Mr. Adrian Lachlan.” I dialled up the number Peri had been given and pressed the phone to my ear. Post-orgasmic bliss, I couldn’t quite dredge up any knots in my stomach, but I’d probably get a bit nervous later.

  The phone rang once.

  Twice.

  Then a horrible buzz sounded, thick static blasting me in the ear. I jerked the phone back and glanced at the screen; nothing at all, bars on the top all steady, but the buzzing didn’t stop.

  “What’s—” Nate started.

  “No fucking clue.” I hung up.

  Or tried.

  The buzzing grew louder, static shrieking, phone vibrating until it dropped from my hand to the floor.

  “Is that what phones do six years in the future?”

  I cast an irritated glare his way. “No, dear, and if you think it’s funny, maybe next time you can call the secret society that wants you dead.”

  “Why do they want you dead anyway?”

  I sighed. “No idea. Maybe because they blamed me for your brother’s death and he was a member. And I took credit for it.” And made a fuck ton of money from it. Maybe I should offer him some of that cash. Not that I wouldn’t try to make it fun for him as my manpet, but he’d never not had money, so I should probably give him some. Then he could hire a lawyer for a divorce. And buy me presents.

  I ducked down and felt around for the phone—it had stopped buzzing, so maybe I could call Nic and Peri, and see if—

  The car jerked forward, metal screeching as something impacted us from behind, and I barked my head on the dash.

  “Jesus, I wasn’t going down on you.” I sat up, rubbing my skull.

  “Am I crazy or is—”

  I swivelled in my seat to see what was riding us, and— “Is that a fucking streetcar riding our ass?”

  “Okay, it’s not just me then. Good to know.”

  No, it wasn’t just him—or it was both of us going crazy. Sparks flew, tires squealing, metal crunching—there was a fucking trolley shoving us along, empty by the looks of it and exterior painted bright red with brass.

  It’s hard to come up with exactly what the worst part of such a situation would be, but, for me, it would be the fact that the streetcar wasn’t opaque, and I could see the empty stretch of highway and fields beyond.

  Phantom trolley. Wonderful.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A Streetcar Named...Oh, Crap

  I blinked a few times but the scene behind us didn’t change. “Um...drive faster?”

  In answer, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator and the car sped forward.

  “When Peri bitches later,” I turned back to the dashboard and popped it open to retrieve one of the quarter-demon’s pussy little guns, “remind her that we couldn’t foresee a phantom trolley, of all things, damaging her car.”

  The trolley dinged and sped after us, eating pavement like a sports car.

  Nate eyed the gun. “What exactly are you going to shoot? There’s no driver.”

  He had a point. I shook my head. “I hate this city. Hate this motherfucking city.”

  The streetcar struck us again and I jerked forward, thumping in my seat. More metal crunched and we breezed along, speeding faster and faster, ’til the car turned and careened off the road, swinging into the shoulder and dying. It rocked a few more times, engine cutting out.

  The streetcar had stopped, ten feet from the Chevy. And the doors opened.

  “Sonovabitch. Think they want us to board?”

  Nate turned to me. “You’re sure I’m not hallucinating this?”

  “Not this time, lover boy.” I reached for the door handle. “Let’s go.”

  My damn phone was useless, so I stowed it in my back pocket and crept forward with Nate at my side, gun barrel pointed down but ready to ease up at any provocation. I stepped forward first and Nate was right behind me, hand a comforting, warm weight on the small of my back. The previously transparent trolley was full of light and colour now, solid and real as the vehicle we’d discarded when I stepped onto it.

  Still empty, though. It had a polished smell, old leather and cleaners, tickling my nose. Wooden seats marched up and down either side of the streetcar.

  The door closed suddenly, prickles running up my back as the vehicle seemed to expel a breath and then continued on again. A nod to the seat opposite mine as I sat and Nate dropped down, perching on the edge as I did, so we could watch one another’s back.

  “Where do you suppose we’re going?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Dunno. Peri didn’t mention this.”

  “Persephone did not meet me here.”

  Nate and I glanced up, to the back of the trolley, as heavy steps clicked on the floor. A tall, gaunt man walked forward, with silver hair and an expensive suit, plus an overcoat even though it was summer. He wore black leather gloves and I became increasingly certain I didn’t want to know why.

  “Adrian Lachlan?” I guessed.

  He studied me with cold, hard eyes. “Miss Lain.” A glance at Nate. “Mr. O’Connor. You look very much like your brother.”

  Nate tensed across from me. “And yet I think you’ll find the difference in our dispositions quite startling.”

  My fingers flexed on the gun. Best to get to the point. “Is the Veil still interested in averting the apocalypse?”

  His attention returned to me. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because Mishka Thiering is alive and somewhere in the city,” Nate said.

  “As is Peri,” I added. “The two of them combined, I believe, is a bad, bad thing.”

  Lachlan walked forward, sweeping past us, coat billowing and brushing my arm. When he eased down ahead of me, sitting sideways so he faced the aisle as Nate did, I pointed the barrel of the gun against the back of his seat. “We’re neutral, at this time.”

  “Because of the split vote?” Thank you, Ellie, for revealing that tidbit from Sean’s memories months ago.

  His sharp, eagle eyes moved to me again. “Where did you hear that?”

  I gave him a cocky grin that had Nate all but openly shaking his head. “I know a hell of a lot more than people give me credit for. So that’s your problem? Half of you can’t decide what to do? C’mon, I’ll make it easy for you—you don’t gotta do shit. I’ll take care of it. Tell me where to find her, lend me some resources, and you otherwise don’t have to lift a finger.”

  “At this point, Miss Lain, you are alive purely by a sliver of luck this afternoon and our membership’s decision to hold off wasting any more resources on you. Do not presume to impose on us any orders.”

  “The Rakshasa was yours?”

  He said nothing.

  That was good to know—I preferred to be clear on where threats on my life came from. “It was just an offer. Look at it this way: you hate me and want me d
ead. But you also want one of the antichrist’s daughters gone. Granted, I’m making an assumption here, but you did offer a position to Peri. Peri who doesn’t want the world to end—you’d have to know what side she’d pick for the split vote. But she won’t join so your only option is to just get rid of the problem before anyone has to decide.”

  I was totally talking out of my ass but then making shit up as you go along happens when you’re really old.

  Nate shifted again, his shoulders tensed, and magic crackled in the air; he was prepared if this thing went south, which it probably would.

  “How’m I doing? Getting warm yet?”

  “Sean O’Connor had many resources,” Lachlan said, “and he failed to kill the witch. What makes you think you can?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve killed more people than he has. So, practice? Persistence? My winning personality? Stellar taste in clothes? The fuck if I know. Are you in or not?”

  Lachlan drummed his long, spindly fingers on the back of the seat and frowned, peering at the window as darkness went by. “The trouble, I believe, is that this can’t be averted. Prophecies are prophecies for a reason.”

  It might seem like I was losing him, but he hadn’t outright said no. That had to count for something. That fucking better count for something because getting these people on my side would benefit me immensely and I wouldn’t give up without a fight. Plus I almost always won people over. Except for the ones I had to kill.

  It was probably fifty/fifty.

  “Sisters rise, jaws open, hell on earth,” I continued. “I get it. I know. The whole goddamn town has been known as hell for centuries and the pair of them being here now despite all these chances to kill them can’t be coincidence. But I am not okay with this. The world can’t end because I had to leave my apartment in a rush and didn’t pack an appropriate outfit. Fuck the end of the world: I have nothing to wear. No ensemble, no apocalypse.”

  “I don’t think it quite works like that,” he said dryly.