“You came out into the darkness without your crossbow?” Even in pain, his English-accented voice was accusatory.
I grunted as I heaved him to his feet. “You’re yelling at me now?”
“Foolish mortal,” he muttered. I got under his arm and moved with him, but it was clear we weren’t going to outrun whatever was coming toward us. And now there was a familiar smell on the wind, one that reminded me of the succubus. The smell of death.
“Another succubus?”
“No. They are the ones who ripped out my chest. And a good thing, too. That coin was killing me.”
“They? What are they?”
We couldn’t move fast enough. Out of the mist, I could see shambling figures approaching. “Oh, shit. Erasmus, you have to move!”
“Leave me. Run, Kylie.”
“I won’t leave you.”
He tried to shake me off but seemed too weak and slumped against me. “They don’t want me. They want you.”
My grip on him tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Dammit, why can’t you listen to me?”
“Because you’re a liar.”
The figures in the mist drew closer. As they shambled forward, I was beginning to make out some of their details. “What the actual hell?” Some were bent over, as if heavy weights were on their shoulders. As they drew closer, I realized—to my horror—that it was because they had lost an arm…or an ear…or the side of their torso. They wore long tunics with bits of armor buckled to their chests, and chain mail hanging almost to their knees. Some wore dented helmets covering their heads like pointed caps, with parts that came down and covered their noses. They were carrying axes, round broken wooden shields, and short swords, the blades of some snapped off. A few had beards and ratty braids hanging from the sides of their temples.
But their faces… I could smell them as they approached. That sweet, overpowering smell of rotting flesh. Some of their faces were little better than skulls. What flesh remained was drawn taut over cheekbones and sunken around eye sockets. They smiled from ghastly mouths with no lips. And some were missing limbs. No…not missing. They were still hanging by stretching lengths of tendons, dragging those limbs along the ground. Skin and muscle hung from some of their faces and necks, where I could see right through to their spines. They were walking corpses. I was in the middle of Knight of the Living Dead.
“Are you kidding me?” I gasped. “Are these freakin’ zombies?”
“The Draugr. You would know them as Vikings.”
“Viking zombies? Because regular zombies aren’t bad enough?”
“Can you move faster?”
“I can’t, because you can’t.”
“They tore into me before realizing I was a demon. It was lucky for me, for when they tore through my flesh, they also expelled the coin and ended the spell. Though I don’t know how I lasted this long once the spell expired.”
I heaved him along. A new urgency gave me the strength, but I could tell it wasn’t going to be enough. “What happened when they realized you were a demon?”
“They left me alone. They knew they cannot consume me. You, on the other hand, are fresh meat.”
“Crap.” I urged him faster.
“So it is best you leave me. I will be fine. I will heal. But you are in danger.”
I looked up into the tangled shadows of branches. “Why isn’t the crossbow coming?”
“Because you have nothing that can readily kill a Draugr.”
“But if they’re from the Booke…”
“They aren’t from the book.”
“What?”
“Kylie, there is no time to argue. You must go.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“Beelze’s tail! I tell you I am not in danger. You are!”
That stench was getting stronger, and one of the fellows with a rusty but still mean-looking axe was lumbering closer. He slid his jaw back and forth with a horrible clicking sound. Something icky was oozing from his rotten-toothed grimace. I debated whether to cover my nose or not. “Are you sure they won’t hurt you?”
“They would have eaten me already.”
Now you know how it feels, Mr. Soul-Eater, I wanted to say. But now was definitely not the time. I had only seconds to decide when I tripped over a damned root. Erasmus fell one way and I fell the other down a shallow ravine. I rolled through the leaves and stopped when I hit a boulder.
“Ow.” Rubbing my head, I looked up. I saw sky…before rotting Viking heads poked into my view.
“Crap!” The axe whistled toward me as I rolled out of the way. Then it came down again in the direction I was rolling, so I went the other way and sure enough, it came down over there too.
Trapped. On my back was a real bad place to be. One of them lunged toward me, and this time my reaction seemed to have nothing to do with the absent crossbow. I somehow sprang to my feet with a sort of cartwheel. Before I could think about how I’d pulled that off, I shot straight up into the air and grabbed onto a tree branch just as the Draugr advanced on me, dumbly looking around the place I used to be.
Still shocked that I had managed these ninja moves, I hung on the branch, looking down at milling zombies waving their rusty weapons around below me. I was about fifteen feet up. There was no way—even with all the adrenaline in the world—I could have leapt that high on my own. It had to have something to do with the Booke. Chosen Host skills.
Of course, I was still fifteen feet up. What was I going to do now?
I looked around. Surrounded by pine trees. No convenient Tarzan vines. Somehow, I was either going to have to climb higher or drop. I didn’t love the idea of dropping, considering the zombies below. But my grip was slipping. Bark was not the best thing to hang from. For one, it hurts. And two…did I really need a two?
I decided to go on instinct. Instinct had gotten me out of trouble in the past, so I let the Chosen Host powers do their thing. But unfortunately, their “thing” was—
“Oh, no!”
—dropping down on the Vikings.
Three of them had gathered below me. I fell like a rock, smashing them down into the leaf duff. Their rotted bones crunched and their flesh squelched as all three doubled under me.
I scrambled free, vowing to throw my boots away after this.
But when I looked up, more Draugr were approaching from over the hill.
“Running,” I muttered breathlessly. “Running’s a good option.” My feet hit the ground as I pelted out of there, hoping that Erasmus hadn’t lied to me. Praying that he’d be all right.
I ran hard down into the ravine, through the steep “V” in the terrain. I heard armor clanking behind me and risked looking back. “Ho-ly shit.” They could run! I amped up my speed, but I knew that running through such a narrow space was strategically bad. I had to get out. I ran as fast as I could up the angled sides of the ravine. When I reached the top, I stopped and looked back. Bad idea. At least ten of them were converging out of the woods. They opened their boney jaws as one and howled an inhuman sound. Waving their weapons, they started for me again.
I was running out of ideas. I could sprint back to my shop, but then what? Would I just be trapped? And what about everyone else in the village? Was I leading them back to more innocent people? Or were they just after me like the incubus had been? Because if they didn’t emerge from the Booke, then I had a pretty good notion where they did come from.
“Doug, you son of a bitch,” I rasped. My new ninja skills made me grab for a big branch that I was sure I wouldn’t be able to lift…but looky there. I could!
I gripped it hard and spun around. The closest Viking got a face-full of bark and soared backwards. One of his arms fell off as he flipped over. No time to think about that as I was already lunging at another one. His booted feet went up in the air, and he was down and out. Another one came at me, swinging his sword. I held up the branch to block the blow, the blade getting stuck in the wood. While he was trying to pull it free, I flung him, branch and all, toward a tree. He smacked into it with a sort of splat.
But now I’d lost my branch, and the other seven were still coming toward me. I had no weapon. I desperately searched for anything, a rock, a branch, a hefty squirrel—anything!
That horrible rotting smell was far too close to me, and when I whipped my head around, a zombie Viking was right there in my personal space. I screamed…and then his head exploded.
Wait, what?
The body fell at my feet, exploded brains all over me, and there was Ed, still aiming his smoking gun with both hands and feet apart. He lowered the gun only slightly. “Kylie, what the hell are these?”
“Um…zombie Vikings.”
“What?”
“Ed, look out!”
I pointed behind him, and he spun, firing. Right in the head again. That seemed to do the trick, but the ones I had smacked with my tree branch were getting up.
“We’ve got to go get Erasmus,” I told him, grabbing his arm.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
“With Erasmus.”
“I really hate that guy,” he muttered, but he ran with me anyway.
Erasmus was propped against a tree, eyes closed, looking seriously injured. Or dead. No, he couldn’t be dead.
“Erasmus!” I cried, landing on my knees by his side.
His eyes snapped open and he glared. “What are you—” But then he caught sight of Ed. “What is he—”
“He knows.” I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to his feet.
Erasmus leaned into me. “What do you mean ‘he knows’?”
“He knows. Everything.”
“Even about…me?”
“Yeah, I know you’re a demon,” said Ed, roughly taking Erasmus’ other arm. “Like that’s a big surprise.”
“I see.” He narrowed his eyes at Ed but didn’t fight as we pulled him to his feet. With two of us, we were able to make better speed.
We threaded through the woods at a good trot. The moonlight blazed a path for us. I looked back over my shoulder. The Draugr still followed, but they seemed to be slowing down, falling back. It wasn’t the moon after all that brightened our path, but the morning sky, filling the spaces between the trees with a rose-hued glow.
We kept running, dragging Erasmus, who tried to keep up, until we got to the shopfront. As we pushed through the door, the Wiccans, who had been sitting around the fireplace, stood up.
Nick was back, and he helped me get Erasmus to a chair. Under the electric light, I could see how bad his chest was…or rather, how bad it used to be. The hole had closed up. His shirt was still covered in the black gore of his blood, but already his face looked better.
“Holy crow,” whispered Doc. “How’d he survive our spell?”
“We’ve got bigger problems.” I looked back at Ed, bolting the door and peering out the windows. “There are Draugr out there.”
Jolene stepped toward me, wide-eyed. “Are you serious?”
Nick squinted at her. “What’s a Draugr? Do I want to know?”
“You don’t,” I said at the same time that Jolene recited, “They’re undead warriors. Zombie Vikings.”
“No way,” he said breathlessly.
“Way,” I said. “And Erasmus says they aren’t from the Booke.”
Jeff, fully recovered and fully dressed in a T-shirt, jeans, but no shoes, stood over me as I knelt by Erasmus. Was it my imagination or was Jeff…buffing out a bit? “Kylie, are you serious? Undead Vikings?”
“I’m really not in the mood to make that up. I saw them. I fought them.”
“Whoa,” he said, sinking onto the arm of a chair.
“Mr. Dark,” said Doc, standing at the back of Erasmus’ chair and leaning in. “Are you certain they aren’t from the book?”
“I am intimately entwined with the book,” he growled. “I know what came from it and what did not with complete certainty.”
I rose. “It was Doug and company. They must have summoned them.”
“But why?” asked Seraphina, approaching Erasmus.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I guess that’s our next move—discover why and stop them.”
She worried at her bracelets. “But what about Andras? And Baphomet?”
Erasmus looked up. “Did you say Andras? He’s here?”
I nodded. “All wings and threats. He’s after me.”
He turned away, eyes searching unseeable depths. I didn’t like his expression.
I rubbed my temple. “One thing at a time. We’re going to have to prioritize.”
“We’re not going to do anything for now,” said Doc. “We’re going to go back to our respective homes and get some sleep. We’re all exhausted.”
“I don’t think Kylie should be alone,” interjected Nick.
“She’s not alone,” said Erasmus and Ed at the same time.
That was just great. I looked from Ed to Erasmus as they turned their glares on each other. I don’t know who was growling the loudest.
“Okay,” I said, standing between them. “Ed, you go home. I’ll take care of Erasmus.”
The demon stood unsteadily, his black blood all over my wingback. “I don’t need taking care of.”
“Yeah, you look just peachy.”
“I’m healing. In another hour, I will be back to normal.”
“I’m not leaving until he does,” said Ed, crossing his arms over his chest.
I wanted to kill them both. “No, Ed. I said go home.”
He stared at me incredulously while Erasmus, smug as could be, raised an imperious brow.
“But Kylie—” said Ed.
“Do you mind? I’ve got this. And everyone else, go home. We’ll strategize later this afternoon when we’ve all had a chance to rest.”
Nick glanced toward the windows. “But what about the…the zombies?”
“They disappear at daybreak,” said Jolene, hugging her Hello Kitty witch bag.
We all made our way to the windows and slid the curtains aside. No zombies. Just shadows being cast by a steadily rising sun.
Someone yawned, which started the rest of us off.
“Go home, everyone,” I said more gently. “We’ll meet up later.”
They were tired, I could tell, but they were still reluctant to leave. I made shooing motions toward the door, and, one by one, they filed out. Nick cautiously peered into the nearby woods.
Ed stood at the door, a frown on his face. “I don’t think I should leave you alone with that guy.”
“You know very well who ‘that guy’ is. And what.”
“Which is why I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with him.”
“Look, Ed, I know all this is a lot to take in. But I’ll be fine. I need Erasmus. He’s the only one who really knows what to do about the Booke.”
Bracing himself against the wingback, Erasmus stood straight, raising his chin in defiance. Ed huffed deeply, then leaned toward me, eyes fixed on Erasmus, and kissed me.
“Call me,” he said gruffly when he pulled back. With a long, pointed look at Erasmus, he turned toward the door and finally left.
Pissing match averted, I locked the door after him.
“Proud of yourself?” I said.
Erasmus smiled slowly. “Immensely.” He stumbled and made his way back to the chair.
“You’re not all right yet.”
“Maybe some of that brandy you have would help?”
I shook my head and went to the kitchen to get it.
* * *
I stayed up a little while to drink with Erasmus and make sure he was okay, but he told me to go to bed when my head drooped to my chest for the second time.
I slept deeply and didn’t remember dreaming, which was probably a blessing. When I awoke, it was around two in the afternoon.
The time shocked me. I scrambled out of bed and stumbled downstairs with bed hair and bleary eyes. “Gotta open the shop!” I got down near the bottom of the steps to see Erasmus stuff a teapot into a brown bag with handles and shove it at a customer. “Do come again,” he said with a smarmy smile.
The elderly woman tittered like a coquette, taking the bag and fluttering her lashes at Erasmus the whole way to the door.
I rubbed the last bit of sleep from my face. “What was that?”
He startled with the guiltiest look on his face. “You…you were asleep.”
“And you opened my shop?”
He gestured toward the parking lot. “There were customers. And you claim to need this place of business for your upkeep.”
I stepped down the last stair, gripping the banister. “I do. I just didn’t imagine…you…you as a shopkeeper.”
“I am no such thing. I merely showed my gratitude to you by helping you with a few little purchases.”
“How did you figure out the register?”
“The what?”
“That,” I said, pointing to it on the counter.
He shrugged. “I didn’t. They simply paid me in your currency.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills.
I stumbled toward him. “How much did you sell?”
He waved vaguely. “A few teapots and other assorted nonsense. The whole point of this shop is beyond me.”
“But…” I took the bundle. Good grief, what did he charge people? “Erasmus, there is no way people bought this much merchandise.”
He postured. “Are you accusing me of lying?”
“No, but…”
“Then take the money and be grateful.”
“I…I am, but…there’s no coins or anything. How—”
“They just gave it to me, gladly. They told me to ‘keep the change,’ whatever that means.”
I bit my lip. “Did you do some sort of hocus pocus on them? Some sort of demon hoodoo?”
“I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about.” He rubbed at his nose, which didn’t seem to help. Just in time, he pulled out a handkerchief and sneezed into it. “Damned tea,” he muttered, wiping his nose.
He was allergic to tea. It was ridiculously endearing.
“Thank you for minding the store. I really appreciate it. It was very thoughtful of you.”
Was he blushing? “Well…” He opened and closed one of my herb drawers absently—the herb called “chase devil” as it happens. “It seemed the least I could do.”
I laid a hand gently on his arm.
He looked down at my hand and then slowly at me.
“So…what did you learn in the Netherworld? We still need a way to subdue a god.”
“I know. But I’m afraid I learned very little. There might be something, though. I will likely have to explain it to the child.”
“You mean Jolene.”
“There must be some sort of rule on the minimum age of your Wiccans.”
I crossed my arms. “Are you concerned for her?”
“Of course not! Her young age could be a liability to us.”
“Oh, of course. I see.”
“Stop looking at me like that. Have you passed a mirror of late?”
I grabbed my hair. “No, why?” And then I remembered I hadn’t even brushed my teeth. I clamped my hand over my mouth and ran upstairs to take a shower. As long as Erasmus could run the shop, I knew I had time to get ready. Even with whatever spell he was casting on my customers.
When I got out of the shower and padded into the bedroom, I found a steaming mug of coffee on my bedside table. I stared at it for a good long while before I sank onto the bed. That Erasmus. He was pulling out all the stops. Could it be…he was glad to see me again? He did send that note, after all. That weirdly disturbing note in the form of an exploded crow, but still…
I smiled as I came downstairs, this time with my hair neatly brushed, wearing a cashmere sweater and jeans and carrying the mug in my hand. Erasmus was escorting another customer to the door. It was odd, him in his black leather duster jacket tending my business. He hardly looked like a proper clerk for a tea shop, but this was Moody Bog. Maybe it was more normal that I had originally thought.
“Hey,” I said as casually as I could while sweet thoughts about him swirled around my head.
He glanced my way, did a double take, and then tried to look as if he hadn’t by straightening his jacket. “’Hey?’” he mocked. “Is this truly an appropriate greeting?”
“It is in this century.”
“There is a lot lacking in this century.”
“Okay, enough. We’ve got to talk about these Draugr.” I settled on a bar stool behind the counter and cupped my mug to warm my hands. “By the way,” I said, lifting the mug and offering him a heartfelt smile. “Thanks for this.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out your coffee contraption,” he said smugly. “I’ve watched you often enough. A child could do it.”
“Even a demon child,” I said into the cup.
“What was that?”
I looked up, blinking innocently. “Nothing. What about these Vikings?”
“They are the risen corpses of Viking warriors.”
“Yeah, I figured that out all by myself.” I rolled my eyes. “So what is their deal? Do they eat brains?”
“Brains? If they did, there would be mighty slim pickings around here.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
He folded his arms and shook his head. “Where do you get these notions? They don’t bother with eating brains. They have enormous strength and literally crush their enemies to death, drinking their blood. They walk to protect their hoard of gold, rising at sunset and disappearing again at sunrise.”
“So what do they want with us? We don’t have any Viking gold.”
“Are you certain? As I said, they didn’t come from the book. Who else do you know who might have designs on a gold hoard?”
“Doug. And Shabiri probably helped him.”
“Yes, and no doubt she left out the little tidbit about the Draugr walking the night in search of it, killing as they go.”
“You mean the Ordo would also be in danger?” Our least favorite biker gang called themselves the Order of the Right Hand of the Devil—the Ordo Dextarae Diaboli, or just Ordo for short. They were short a few brain cells, that was for sure. They dabbled where they shouldn’t have, like summoning Baphomet and allowing him access to this plane of existence. I don’t mind sharing our plane with friendly spirits, but since we were currently using it, a baddie who wanted to destroy us was not welcome.
Andras, the demon assassin, was another story though. Who summoned him? I had my doubts that the Ordo were capable.
“Everyone is in danger,” Erasmus was saying.
“Right. Then what’s our priority? Andras, Baphomet, Draugr?”
“You’re forgetting that something has yet to come from the book.”
“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten the stupid Booke of the Hidden.”
As I said it, the Booke popped into the space between us, like a middle finger to my disdain. I would have thrown it through my front window if Erasmus hadn’t held my wrist. Instead, I put it down on the counter and opened it. I had only filled three pages. That was how I contained the creatures who’d escaped and put them back where they belong; I wrote about them in the Booke, usually after I shot them with the chthonic crossbow. But there were so many pages left to go.
“Erasmus, we have to destroy this Booke,” I said for the umpteenth time, worrying at the demon-faced amulet hanging from my neck. It was the only clear way to stop the destruction and death. And to protect future generations of Chosen Hosts from getting caught in its curse. “Any ideas?”
“As I have said before, it cannot be done.”
“But there must be a god or being in charge in the Netherworld who could stand up to the Powers That Be.”
He seemed uncomfortable, squirming. “Of course, there is.”
“Well…who then?”
His gaze settled on mine. “Satan,” he whispered.
“Wait. The Satan?”
“No, Fred Satan. Of course, the Satan!”
“Wow.” I slumped on my stool. “I just didn’t imagine…I mean, it never occurred to me that…Really?”
“Yes,” he hissed.
“Is there…is there any way we could, well, talk to him? Maybe reason with him?”
He snapped to his feet. “Are you insane? No, we cannot talk to Him.”
“Oh, come on, Erasmus. You’re a demon. Are you saying you’re afraid of Him?”
“Yes! I’m terrified.” And he suddenly looked it. Anything that could put that look on his face… “I don’t want him aware of me. At all.”
It dawned on me again that once the Booke goes, so does he. As Guardian of the Booke, he’d be out of a job. And in the Netherworld, that meant a quick trip to non-existence. Was I ready for that? Judging by my reaction to his long absence when I thought he was dead, the answer was a decided “no.”
“Oh, okay, forget it. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”
“Never mention it again.”
“Okay!” I sipped my coffee and noticed that it was growing cold. “Erasmus, you were missing for something like eight hours past the time you were supposed to return. How…how did you survive all that time? You weren’t lying there with a hole in your chest for eight hours, were you?”
His angry expression—maybe I should say his usual expression—morphed into one of puzzlement. “I don’t know. Maybe your Wiccans did the spell wrong.”
“Maybe. And by the way, your pal Shabiri was here.”
That old scowl was back. “What did she want?”
“She’d heard on the Netherworld grapevine that something had happened to you and offered her services as Booke Guardian.”
“She what?”
“Hey, don’t kill the messenger. I just want to know how she knew. I thought the whole point of that stupid spell was to keep you incognito down there.”
“It was supposed to. It did work…” He mulled it over, slowly rising. “I felt it. I moved about with impunity. No one and nothing detected me. I ventured to places I would have been instantly killed. It did work.”
His eyes met mine. Something else was going on, and neither of us liked the implications. Was it the Big Guy, the Head Honcho? Satan? Was he aware of Erasmus despite our precautions?
“You can’t go back.”
“Don’t be a fool. If summoned, I must.”
“But they’ll…they’ll…”
“They might. They might not.”
“Erasmus…”
He sighed, looking away. “We both have our roles to play.”
We certainly did. He cast a glance toward the Booke. Mine had been a whirlwind. His was centuries old.
I took a deep breath and tried not to think about it. “Then…priorities?”
He pushed away from the counter, suddenly on edge. “Discuss it with your Wiccans. I have places to be.”
“Wait—Erasmus!” I put the mug down and scrambled after him. He stopped abruptly, and I stumbled into him. When he turned, we were toe to toe, his dark eyes so close to mine.
His previously tight muscles seemed to soften. The intensity of his gaze did as well.
“I’m glad you’re back.” I swallowed. “Safe and sound.”
Even his shirt had repaired itself. Either that or he had an endless supply of black shirts somewhere in his demon closet.
“I’m…glad to be back,” he said quietly. “Safe and sound.”
We breathed at each other intensely for long seconds. I swore he was leaning into me when the damned bell above the door jingled.
Sheriff Ed postured in the doorway. “Am I interrupting something?”
Erasmus hissed at him, like Bride of Frankenstein hissing. A stark reminder that he wasn’t human. Erasmus took several strides toward Ed, peeled back his lips in a smiling grimace with too many pointed teeth, and vanished into a wisp of smoke.
As tough as Ed was trying to be, the expression on his face gave him away. Horrified. Maybe he had half-believed it in the dark of night, but this was daytime.
He looked at me. “You’re having a relationship with that guy?”
“Um, well…yeah. Sort of.”
He breathed harshly through his teeth. “You could have told me.”
“I never said we were exclusive.”
“It was implied.”
“Really? When?”
“Well…” He stalked into the room and looked around. “I thought we were,” he barked. “I thought I was your boyfriend. You said so yourself.”
“Okay. You’re right. It seemed like we were going in that direction. But…” Had I strung Ed along? I suddenly felt like a monster. Most of the time I was just trying to convince myself not to have a relationship with Erasmus.
How’s that working out for you, Kylie?
“For God’s sake, Kylie. He’s a demon.”
“I know!”
Ed fell against a post, hands dangling. “You’ve had more time to process this than I have,” he said quietly.
I nodded. “I know that, too. But Ed, I don’t have time for you to process it. I need your help.”
“I…I feel like we need to evacuate the town.”
“But what would you tell everyone?”
He swiped his hat off his head and griped it in whitening fingers. “I don’t know.”
I wish he could. It would make things easier. But I couldn’t help but feel that the creatures would just move toward the next place. Hansen Mills, probably. And with the ley lines—invisible lines of power—running through there, who knew what could happen? It made me realize how much more there was to tell Ed; about my grandfather’s ghost, about the Founders and Ruth Russell, and so many other things.
“I’m kind of worried about this Andras guy.”
He straightened, trying to be all business. “So there’s a demon after you.”
“Yeah.”
“Sent by whom? Doug?”
“Maybe. With Shabiri’s help.”
“And Shabiri is also a demon.”
“Yup. I’d be careful. I think she’s taken a shine to you.”
“Well, if we’re not exclusive, maybe I should—”
I slammed him up against the wall. The force of it surprised both of us. Chosen Host skills again. “This isn’t a joke. Don’t get mixed up in this.”
“But it’s okay for you?”
“Dammit, Ed. This has nothing to do with…” I stepped back and took a breath. “Look, I’m stuck in this. I have no choice. And yeah, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Erasmus, but I did. It doesn’t mean you should endanger yourself. Shabiri does not have your best interests at heart.”
“And Erasmus Dark has yours?”
“Yes. Yes, I think he does.”
He stared at me incredulously for a few seconds before shaking his head. “If it helps you sleep at night,” he muttered.
“I sleep very well, thanks!”
This was not how I’d hoped this would go. I rubbed my face vigorously to calm myself and looked up at him. “I need your help. If I’m going to survive this—and I really have no expectations as the days go on—you have got to get over this.”
He took a step closer. “Kylie,” he said softly. “I care about you. I mean, I really care. I…I hoped that you might care for me. I thought we had something going.”
I softened too. “We do.” I got close to him and rested my hands on his chest. “I know that you called yourself my boyfriend.”
“And you took your time answering that. Now I see why.”
Did he mean Erasmus or everything else?
“I’ll help you regardless,” he continued, “but where does this leave us?”
He must have seen the look in my eye, because he closed his. “I’m sorry. I guess you’ve got more on your mind right now.”
I drew away, making space between us. “I do. That’s really great of you. Thanks for understanding.”
He seemed to gird himself. “How can I help?”
Now that I finally had his help, I didn’t know what to do with it. “Well…” I laughed. He must have thought I’d lost it at last. “I don’t really know. Be on the lookout, I guess. And help us out when we have to go out on calls.”
“Calls?”
“Yeah. Sometimes we have to hunt the creatures. And sometimes we’ve got to stop Doug from whatever it is he’s doing—”
“Him, I can take.”
“Okay, just hold on.” I had to physically restrain Ed because it looked like he intended to go out and get Doug right now. “No one does anything on their own. We all work together. We get as much information as we can, and we work as a team. Got it?”
He paused before a smile formed on his lips. “And you’re in charge.”
“Yeah.” I poked him in the chest. “You got a problem with that?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, his smile broadening.
I couldn’t help but smile back. “I see. Are you…turned on by a lady with a crossbow?”
“Well, I’m not turned off.” He appeared to think about it for another second. “And maybe just a little turned on, too.”
I got closer again. “This is so wrong.”
He slid his arm around my waist. “It is, kind of.” He was leaning in and I was reaching up.
The bell above the door jangled again.
Nick stood in the doorway, somewhat abashed by what he was seeing. “The door was open…”
I stepped past Ed. “Come on in, Nick.”
“You did say to come this afternoon.”
“I did. I guess the others will be here soon.”
“What about…” Nick gave Ed a sidelong glance. Mister Dark, he mouthed, as he stepped into my shop.
“He’s not here.”
“But we need him!”
Ed slapped his hat against his thigh. “Boy, I’m really tired of people saying that about that guy.”
“He’s not ‘that guy,’” I told him. “He’s a demon. One intimately connected with the Booke. And we do need him. So get over it.”
“It’s the ‘intimately connected’ that I…” He ran his hand through his hair and smacked his hat against his thigh again. “Okay. Got it.”
I wanted to tell him that I understood why he felt that way. That I was sorry things were panning out as they were. But you know what? I just didn’t have the energy. And if he liked me, he’d figure that out for himself.
The roar of an engine permeating through my tightly shut windows made us all look. Speak of the devil… Well, not Erasmus this time. But Doug.
He and his gang rolled slowly down Lyndon Road, giving us all an unhurried perusal. Ed took three strides to the door and threw it open, standing on the porch like he was challenging all comers. I slid in beside him to watch the spectacle. I had seen their bikes before—all Harleys and all in pretty fine shape. But it looked like they had all gotten new rides and tricked them out too. There was Doug on a black Softail, with chrome-laced wheels and whitewall tires, full-skirted metal fenders, chromed triple headlamps—the works. Trying to get alongside him was Charise Walker, her red hair caught up in a long braid, ring in her nose and scar on her face. Sneering at me, of course. Bob Willis, a farm boy with floppy blond hair, kept his eye on Charise, who only had eyes for Doug. And in the rear position was Dean Fitch, a big bruiser of a guy with an upside-down pentagram tattooed on the side of his skinhead. And who could forget their matching black leather jackets? Each jacket had Goat Guy—Baphomet—emblazoned in all his glory in an upside-down pentagram on the back. The words Ordo Dexterae Diaboli, written in flames, curved around Baphy’s face.
Doug smiled. I don’t know why I never saw it before, but he was the spitting image of Ed, except with a full dark beard cropped close to his face. He gave me a little salute. Charise gave me a little salute, too, but it wasn’t the polite kind. Doug gunned his chromed engine, which must have been the signal, because they all suddenly peeled out and disappeared into Moody Bog. Marge Todd from Moody Bog Market had been walking along the street and suddenly had to jump out of the way.
“Damn him,” sneered Ed.
“Pretty expensive rides they were on,” I said, hoping to redirect Ed’s ire.
It did the trick. He stopped scowling and moved back into the warmth of the shop. “Yeah. Where’d he get the money for that? My folks never would have leant any to him.”
“They all had fancy bikes,” I said. “Any banks been robbed lately?”
It was a joke, but Ed took it seriously. He got on his shoulder mic. “George, check the sheet to see if there’ve been any sort of burglaries in the area. Check Hansen Mills, too.”
“No robberies,” said Deputy George, “but a few break-ins, and some vandalism has been reported out in the willie-whacks. Some pretty strange things been coming in.”
“Strange things…like what?”
“You know those folks down there, sheriff. They think everything’s out to get them.”
“Just what is it they think, deputy?”
“It’s crazy. If it’s anything, it’s folks dressing up early for Halloween. Are you ready for this? They said Vikings. And skeletons. There’s a little too much boozing going on there, if you ask me. We should check the area for illegal stills or meth labs.”
Ed gave me a significant look. “Got it, George. Thanks. Keep checking.”
“Will do, sheriff. Miller out.”
I flopped into one of my wing chairs. The Draugr. So far, it sounded like they hadn’t hurt anyone. At least most people seemed to be staying indoors when the sun set, since it was colder than you-know-what.
Nick kept pushing the curtain aside to search up and down the street. Fortunately, it wasn’t dark yet, though the fall sunlight was slanting awfully low through the trees. A golden trail shone along the street for the rolling leaves to follow.
“When are the others coming?” he asked nervously.
I glanced at the clock. Jolene would be coming soon. It was her after-school job. And Seraphina would swan in whenever she liked, with Doc not too far behind. “Pretty soon.”
“Do you want me to make some tea or something?” said Nick.
“You don’t have to.”
“Hey, barista extraordinaire here. I can do both coffee and tea if it is so desired.”
I smiled at him. He bowed and headed toward the kitchen. If he stayed busy, he’d be less nervous. But after hearing a lot of clanking and clattering coming from the kitchen, I decided to help him out.
“I got this,” he said when I pushed open the door.
“I’ll help.”
We began working in concert. I prepared tea—a spicy ginger breakfast blend because I could really use the wake-up—while Nick made the coffee. He kept stealing glances at me until I finally faced him. “What? It looks like you want to ask me something.”
“Well…I was wondering. Since the sheriff knows now, I’m wondering if I could…you know, tell George.”
I sighed. “I know you and Deputy George have a thing, but do we really need more people to know about all this?”
“The more creatures get out of the book, the more it’s going to get noticed. I don’t know how long the sheriff can divert people’s attention.”
“Hmm. Maybe that is a good role for him.”
“S’cuse me.” He waved his hand in front of my face. “We’re talking about me right now.”
I touched his arm. “He means a lot to you, huh?”
He busied himself with the grounds in the filter. “I’m into him, yeah. Even as stodgy as he is. It’s kind of…cute.”
“It’s the mustache.”
He laughed. “What?”
“I sort of have a nickname for him. Deputy Mustache.”
“Oh God!” he howled. “Don’t ever say that in front of him. He is alarmingly proud of that thing. I think it needs its own zip code.”
We shared a laugh before Ed poked his head in. “What are you two laughing over?”
“Nothing.” I pushed him toward the door. “Here. Make yourself useful and take this tray out there.” I thrust a tray with cups, a sugar bowl, and creamer at him. He grabbed it awkwardly and went through the door, looking back at me.
“He’s a much better choice,” said Nick, using his eyebrows to gesture toward Ed.
“We’re not discussing this.”
“Oh? So you can impugn my secret boyfriend’s mustache, but I can’t tell you that Ed’s a better deal than a demon?”
Clutching the teapot, I shoved the door open with my rear end. “Yup.”
It wasn’t long before the rest of the coven showed up, with Jeff trailing in too. He sat sullenly far from everyone else. I felt bad that he was, well, depressed. Once everyone had a cup of something in their hands, I sidled over toward him.
“Jeff.”
“Kylie.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, you mean besides being a freakin’ werewolf?” he hissed.
“I’m sorry, Jeff. I can’t even imagine how difficult this must be…”
“No, you can’t. And you know what else is hard? Standing around, watching you juggle two guys when you were once mine… And knowing that I screwed it all up.”
I had nothing to say to that. I was crouching by his chair, looking at his blond hair. When he wolfed out, his entire body was covered with that same silky blond. Surfer wolf.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Jeff…”
“Your coven wants you.” He shrugged toward Doc, who was clearing his throat to get my attention. I left Jeff there. He had a lot to work through.
I went to the door to flip the OPEN sign over to CLOSED when I noticed a little girl standing in the middle of the road. She was looking down toward the village.
Even though there wasn’t likely to be much traffic at this hour of the afternoon, standing in the road probably wasn’t a good idea. I unlocked the door, opened it, and stuck my head out. “Little girl! Hey, honey! Come out of the street.”
She didn’t look at me.
I stepped out to my gravel parking lot. “Hey! Little girl! Come away from there.” I searched around and didn’t see any adults nearby. And the sun was going down. That meant that the Draugr would be out soon. I race-walked toward her and leaned over to touch her arm. “Honey, let’s get you to the shop and see if we can call your parents.”
She turned her head toward me then. Her eyes, round and clear blue, looked me over. She was maybe six or seven, wearing a plaid dress with red tights. Too young to be out on the street at twilight.
I smiled, trying to look friendly and nonthreatening. “I have tea. And maybe I can scrounge up a cookie while we phone your folks. Shall we do that?”
She looked up at me placidly. And then she opened her mouth and screeched an unearthly sound.
I stumbled back.
Her teeth were covered in blood and her eyes suddenly glowed yellow. And then she fell forward, got down on all fours, and bounded away.