Chapter Twenty-Eight

THE THREE-HOUR ride back to Edmonton dragged. Sparks had to concentrate on driving and did nothing other than watch the middle lines on the highway disappear under the car and keep an eye out for deer. This close to sunset the chance of them making an appearance remained a constant threat.

But the ride proved uneventful, and before he had travelled an hour into the ride Cam and Tully had fallen fast asleep, while Dev poured through the massive tome that had been gifted to them—well, Cam. The book had been a study text of his, and hopefully held the answers that might save him.

By the time they pulled up to the house night had firmly settled in, and the shadows stretched out from the streetlamps.

“You gonna stay over? You’ve done a ton of driving today and that always makes me tired,” Dev said to Sparks as Tully wiggled his way around them, Cam draped over his arms, as limp as a dehydrated plant, destined for the spare room where he had slept the night before.

“Well…” Sparks considered the possibility.

“You can sleep in your office space if you want,” Dev suggested.

“I’ll stay, I am pooped. But I’m okay sleeping in the big bed.” Sparks put an arm around Dev as the made their way into the house.

 

THE NEXT MORNING everyone slept late.

Tully rolled out of bed first and disappeared from the bedroom. Judging from the clatter down in the kitchen, Sparks assumed he had started up breakfast for everyone.

Sparks borrowed a pair of sweats from Dev and slung them on, then traipsed downstairs where Tully offered him a cup of coffee. Sparks graciously accepted and took a sip. Coffee was not a mainstay in his life. But the piping hot, freshly pressed drink delivered velvety deliciousness.

“Oh, this is good.”

“You’ll be fine in this house. Coffee is a staple. And a must-have.”

“I’m usually not a big coffee drinker, but if you make this every morning, I’ll happily drink the ground beans. It’s really good. Have you seen where the massive book went? I would like to have a peek at it.” Sparks put the mug down as Tully pointed down the hall toward the offices.

“I think Dev put it on my desk, as Cam is crashed out in his room.”

A quick glance at Tully’s desk revealed the book. Sparks grabbed the tome and brought the weighty beast into the kitchen, resumed his place at the eating bar, and leafed through it.

Tully came around cradling his own morning elixir of goodness, and snuggled up to Sparks, while peeking over Sparks’s shoulder to view the book.

There were pages upon pages of writing, and not all of them in English. Detailed illustrations were incorporated on every other page as the various species of fae were listed and discoursed. Sparks had never seen anything so comprehensive on the different branches of classes and types. In fact, he had never heard of most of the beasties listed.

“Wow, the lineages are so detailed. I’d get lost in the minutiae, but, more importantly right now…how do you like your eggs?” Tully glanced over at Sparks.

“I’m not a picky eater. Honestly, you can make them however you want, and I’ll be happy to eat them.” Sparks smiled.

Tully bent over and gave him a quick kiss, then placed himself in front of the stove and got to work.

Sparks pretended to read the book, but it was hard not to be enchanted with Tully, studying his moves about the kitchen and basking in his morning optimism. He had a way of putting everyone around him at ease.

“Well, good morning, gentlemen. I have to say, I slept so hard last night I didn’t even notice the two of you in bed.” Dev came down the stairs in nothing but a pair of boxers. He went up to Sparks first and gave him a quick kiss as well. “Sleep well?”

Sparks nodded, then grinned. What he imagined would be weird and awkward between the three of them, living daily life, turned out to be supportive and comforting. He didn’t feel like an intruder. Dev stroked his back, while Tully poured a third coffee, piled sugar and milk into the mug, then handed the coffee to Dev with a smirk and a wink.

“Ah, morning happiness.” Dev took a sip.

“This coffee is delicious.” Sparks glanced up at Dev.

“The best. I swear Tully is a wizard in the kitchen.”

“A kitchen witch maybe?” Sparks laughed at his own joke.

Dev chuckled, pointing to the book. “Did you find anything?”

“Oh my Gods, there’s so much information in here, but I haven’t got to Cam’s type yet, and there’s no index I can see, and not everything is written in a language I’ll understand.”

“I hear you. I had the same issues last night. We gotta keep looking though. Has anyone checked on him yet?” Dev queried.

“Nope. Too busy making breakfast. But I’m thawing meat for him.” Tully pointed to the kitchen sink filled with hot water and a package of frozen goods. “You want to go check on him?” Tully turned to his frying pan and sprinkled some onions and peppers into the eggs. He had crumbled bacon and cheese waiting to be added as well.

“Can do.” Dev disappeared down the hallway.

“That smells amazing.” Sparks sniffed the air.

Dev returned and he looked worried.

“What’s the matter?”

“He looks like shit. I gently shook him awake, but we need to figure this out quick. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he’s lost weight. His cheeks look sallow.”

From out on the deck a howl erupted, filling the kitchen and Sparks’s soul with dread.

Dev clutched an invisible necklace. “What the fuck?”

Everyone glanced toward the back deck.

Everton sat on the other side of the glass and pawed at the door.

Dev walked over, slid the doors open, and allowed the werewolf entrance. He padded down the hallway, following his nose.

“Don’t do that!” Dev called after him. “I think I just lost a couple years of my life.”

Sparks got up off his bar stool and walked down the hallway. He crept around the door jamb and spied on Cam.

Everton had crawled up onto the bed with Cam, placing his snout overtop of the fae’s chest. Cam remained asleep, twitching violently at times, and the fever sweat had returned as evidenced by the beads of moisture dotting Cam’s hairline. Everton whined as he licked Cam’s hand.

Sparks returned to the kitchen to see Tully and Dev being affectionate with each other in front of the stove. He liked seeing them happy. He had the evening shift at the hospital tonight. A makeup shift for the one he missed while trapped in Byron's soul trap. He would have to leave soon enough and get ready for work, but in the meantime, he decided to spend a little extra time flipping through the voluminous tome gifted to Cam.

The book fascinated Sparks, but he hadn’t found any answers before breakfast got served, and then he had to go.

“Hey, before you leave, come here and give me some love!” Tully pulled Sparks in for a hug. “I’m going down to check in on Uncle Bart. You coming here tonight, or to your place?”

“I’ll come with you! I love the old man. He’s fun. To be honest, I hadn’t considered my plans for tonight. I have to feed Bernie and Ralph though, so…I’ll probably go home.”

“Well, if you want, you can always come over here after. You know you’re more than welcome.”

“You guys are the best. Thanks. I’ll text you later and let you know for sure, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

Dev, working in his office, yelled his goodbyes to Sparks as they headed downstairs to Uncle Bart’s place.

Tully knocked.

No one answered, but a crash clanged like metal pots and pans had tumbled off a counter.

“That’s it, I’m going in.” Tully flipped through his key ring to find the one that opened the door.

Upon entering they were both shocked to see Uncle Bart’s place in a state of disarray. He may have been well into his years, but he always maintained a fastidious house.

As they walked into the kitchen, Uncle Bart stood in front of the sink, gazing out of the window, wearing a woman’s dress that would have been from the turn of the previous century.

“All right, old man”—Tully placed his hands on his hips—“I don’t care what you want to wear, but what the hell is with the mess and why didn’t you answer the door?”

Uncle Bart didn’t turn around. He didn’t even acknowledge the boys’ presence.

“Uncle Bart!” Tully repeated louder, although his great-uncle had never had problems with his hearing.

He simply stared off past the window, swaying slightly from side to side.

Sparks leaned in closer to Tully. “Should I call an ambulance? Maybe he’s had a stroke?”

“Let’s wait a minute…” Tully walked over and gently put a hand on Uncle Bart’s shoulder and guided him to turn around to look at them both. “Uncle Bart, are you okay?”

No gleam or recognition sparked in the old man’s eyes. He simply stared at Tully with a dead, blank stare.

“Uncle Bart.” Tully shook him, carefully.

Uncle Bart’s face morphed. What had been a kind gentle old man with an unknowing stare shifted into deep dark eye sockets, shrunken skin, and a skeletal head topped with long silvery hair.

The spectre lashed out at Tully. As he stumbled backward, he tripped over the items strewn across the floor, and fell with a crash. Sparks rushed over and pulled him up.

“Are you okay?”

“Holy shit, did you see that?” Tully’s voice squeaked. Uncle Bart had returned to staring out of the window above the sink.

“I did.”

“He’s been possessed.” Tully’s eyes were round. “We gotta help him.”

“I think this might be a good time to call my brother,” Sparks suggested.

“I think so.”

The boys left, Tully locking the front door on their way out, while Sparks had pulled out his cell and dialled his necromancer brother.

 

WIATT ARRIVED WITHIN the hour.

Sparks had called the hospital and again had to apologize for backing out and missing shifts. This wasn't going to bode well for him at his next performance appraisal.

Dev gave up on the fae tome and joined the other men outside Uncle Bart’s front door.

“All right, tell me again what happened?” Wiatt stroked his moustache and leaned in close to Tully who recounted the story.

“And then I shook him, and this ghostly skeletal thing emerged from his face. Damn thing took a swipe at me. I fell ass over teakettle. Sparks witnessed the whole thing. Uncle Bart returned to his spot staring out the window after attacking me. We called you in. This shit is beyond me.”

“Okay, well, I’m glad you did. This doesn’t sound good, but I doubt Uncle Bart’s in any serious trouble.” Wiatt pointed at the door.

Tully opened it.

“Before we go in, a couple of rules. Don’t be combative or argumentative. That won’t help. If anything, we want to stay positive, optimistic, but firm that the ghost is no longer welcome in the house, and more importantly, not inside Uncle Bart. You three need to push the thought of the ghost leaving his body, and I’ll do the rest.” Wiatt slipped off his backpack and unzipped it, grasped the door handle, and opened the front door.

“Uncle Bart, you have visitors!” he cried out. “Which way to the kitchen? He’s most likely still staring out the window. Ghosts often fixate on something or someone who held meaning for them when they were alive.”

“Down the hallway.”

“Let’s go.” Wiatt fearlessly made his way toward the kitchen.

As predicted, Uncle Bart hadn’t moved.

“Uncle Bart, how are you today?” Wiatt shouted. “I hear you are not yourself.” He rummaged around his backpack and took out several items. A pentacle, which he strung around his neck, a goat’s head ring, which he slipped over his left index finger, a mason jar filled with a blue glowing liquid, and another container which appeared to be filled with black sand.

Wiatt moved toward Uncle Bart, unsealed the jar of water, dipped his fingers in the liquid, and sprinkled droplets in the direction of the old man. As drops of water hit Uncle Bart a hiss of steam rose.

“Yup, he’s possessed. Okay. Can you three help me navigate him into the middle of the kitchen floor? Let’s move the table over.” Wiatt found a broom in the linen closet and gave it to Dev. “Sweep the room, counter-clockwise. We want to rid the area of any negative energy.”

Dev did as instructed, then Wiatt took the black sand and replaced the lid with a different top, one that had a funnel. He used the spout to pour the circumference of a large circle. “Before I complete the full circle, can you force Uncle Bart into the middle? The spirit will fight you, so be prepared for a fight.”

“The hell it will.” Tully glowered, went over to Uncle Bart, hoisted him up, and slung him over his shoulder.

The rough manhandling did not go over well. The spirit within Bart’s body lashed out, writhed, kicked, and screamed. But Tully’s big boy stature and muscles kept Uncle Bart securely in place. He held on fast and put up with the flailing arms and legs.

“You’re gonna have bruises everywhere.” Sparks grimaced as the old man shrieked. The noises escaping from Uncle Bart’s mouth were obviously not of his making.

“I’ll live. Uncle Bart, though, may not unless your brother can fix this. Besides, I know you’ll tend to my wounds.” Tully winked at Sparks when a fist slammed into his face. “For the love of the Gods, old man, if we weren’t related…”

Wiatt took the opportunity to complete the circle, placing Grimm marks at each compass point, and hex script around the edge. No sigils broke or crossed the original circle.

“Okay, Tully. Put him down, then step out of the protective circle.”

“What is the black sand?”

“Oh, it’s not sand. It’s black salt. Much better.”

Tully eased Uncle Bart down, then sidestepped the old man and removed himself from the magical markings. He encountered no resistance or problems. Uncle Bart, on the other hand, screeched and the spirit embedded in him made itself known.

It was not happy.

It lashed out with talon-like hands. A skeletal jaw snapped and bit. Uncle Bart uttered some horrifying foul language.

“I didn’t think he knew so many swear words.” Dev scrunched his brows together.

“Oh, that’s nothing. You’ve never seen him really mad.” Tully cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, here comes the hard part. Ready?” Wiatt asked as he cued everyone to be alert.

“Wait. What are we ready for?”

“This.” Wiatt reached in, grabbed Uncle Bart by the dress’s material, and ripped him toward himself.

As Uncle Bart passed through the barrier of the protective black salt circle his eyes grew wide and bulged. The spirit entrenched within him was unceremoniously ripped out of his corporeal body.

Uncle Bart fell and landed on top of Wiatt. The two lay on the floor for a minute. Wiatt held Uncle Bart so the old man wouldn’t slip or fall off him. He stared at Uncle Bart. “You okay?”

“I’m lying on top of a handsome man who is easily fifty years my junior, and he’s hard and muscley. What do you think?” Uncle Bart’s lascivious suggestion quietened the room, then he tried to prop himself up.

“Yup. He’s fine.” Tully bent over and extended a hand to help Uncle Bart up.

Inside the black salt circle, the spirit spun, trying to find a way out. Despite the ethereal quality, the ghost of a woman from the early 1900s violently fought against Wiatt’s circle.

Once Uncle Bart settled on his own two feet he shuffled over to the circle and glared at the spectre.

“Ester, you bitch. We had a deal.”

“What the fuck?” Tully gestured toward Uncle Bart with a What the hell? glare.

The old man, still decked out in his fabulous time-period dress, explained, “Well, boys, Ester lives here with me.” Then he turned to Tully. “She is a long-deceased ancestor, and a witch herself. One who didn’t see fit to go to the Eternal Grasslands to be with the Gods.” Uncle Bart frowned. “But she’s helped out our family for years. This is her house. A house which will one day belong to you.”

“Well, the three of us.”

Uncle Bart and Wiatt glared at Tully with looks of confusion.

“Ah, Tully…” Dev started.

“I’m not sure we’re ready to…” Sparks said.

“You devil.” Uncle Bart whistled through his teeth.

Wiatt chuckled. “Wow, dude. Mom and Dad are gonna love this.”

“Yeah, maybe we won’t mention my relationship status to them just quite yet. Okay?” Sparks raised an eyebrow and glared angrily at his brother.

“Ah, as long as you’re all happy, who cares? I think it’s hot.” Uncle Bart waggled his eyebrows.

“Okay, stop. What the hell is this?” Tully pointed at the ghost. “If Ester is a relative, why would she possess you?” With hands on hips, he scolded his great-uncle.

“She sometimes gets carried away.” Uncle Bart shot a dirty look at Ester, who returned the glare. She crossed her phantom arms over her see-through chest. “We made a deal. After your last visit I determined we’d need the witch wood. You’re going to want a space for the new coven. Right? I also got Ester to help retrieve some items from Byron’s. After all, the Guardians of the Night Grove are defunct, yes? And you boys need those things to start up the next group. So, Ester and her friends helped out.”

“Holy shit. Well, that explains why Byron’s study didn’t have nearly as many items as I remembered. But I don’t get it. Where’d everything go?”

“You haven’t found the secret passage yet?” Uncle Bart tilted his head to one side.

“Ah, no,” Tully said.

“Well then, you haven’t had a need for the room yet. You’ll find the entrance behind the bookcase in your office, Tully. There’s a separate entrance in each of your offices if you are now a threesome. The house will have accommodated all of you.” Uncle Bart gave them all a knowing glance and a mischievous look.

“What the hell is with this house? And why didn’t you tell me about any of these details?” Tully appeared more put out that his relative hadn’t shared any of this information about the magical nature of the structure.

“I’m a witch. I know things. Doesn’t mean I share them.” Uncle Bart laughed.

The look on Tully’s face was the most deadpan, stoic, unimpressed stare anyone had ever seen on the man who always wore a permanent grin.