Chapter Two

“What do you need from me?” Donata asked, sinking back into her chair. Not that she was going to do it, whatever it was. Not after he’d disappeared without a word and then shown up just to ask for a favor. Still, she was curious. Maybe intrigued, even.

The big man leaned forward, his expression open and earnest, although she could swear she saw a hint of laughter lurking in the depths of his gaze.

“You know how you’ve always been curious about my family?” he said. “How would you like to come meet them?”

What the hell?

“Um, why would you want me to do that?” she asked. “And what does this have to do with the trouble you’re in? Is your mother trying to marry you off to some nice Ulfhednar girl with strong thighs again?”

It had been one of his major complaints, back when they’d spent time together, that on the rare occasions his mother had been able to sneak out to a pay phone to call him, she’d spent most of their precious conversation trying to convince him to come home and make grandchildren for her. Ulfhednar were very big on children.

“Always,” Magnus said with an exaggerated sigh. “But that’s not why I want you to come back with me.” He looked longingly at the fridge, and Ricky jumped up to get another beer. Glancing at Donata’s scowling face, he brought two.

“I’m listening,” Donata said. “I’m not going home with you, but I’m listening.”

“Well, as long as you’re keeping an open mind,” Magnus said, laughter in his voice. “I assume you remember the basics about the Ulfhednar.”

“I went to Witch School,” she said. “And I went out with you for longer than any sensible woman should have. So yes, I know that the Ulfhednar are strong, aggressive, and live in small, insular communities, usually in isolated rural areas where they can best avoid interference from Humans. And the Alliance Council that rules all the Paranormal races.”

“Few Ulfhednar have the genetic makeup and the will to become Ulf, a kind of super-warrior, if you will. Usually about one in a hundred, although my town has an unusually large number,” he said, a hint of pride in his deep voice.

Donata thought about that. “Doesn’t that number stay pretty much the same from year to year?” she asked.

Magnus shook his head. “Not at all. There is a lot of attrition among the existing Ulf. They tend to work the high-risk jobs: everything from Navy SEALs to firemen to SWAT teams. It’s in their blood to fight hard, and their skill sets are usually pretty specialized.”

“Alpha males,” Donata said, rolling her eyes and trying not to envision Magnus going out on some kind of mission and never coming home.

“And alpha females,” he said with a chuckle. “Ulfhednar women occasionally make it through the Ulf training too. Not as many, because it is incredibly physically demanding, but there are no rules against it, and those who make it through are as fierce as any man. Fiercer, maybe. There are two women in the group training with me right now. At least one of them kicks my ass on a regular basis.” He grinned, clearly not at all bothered by the idea. That was one of the things Donata had loved about him, back in the day. He’d always treated her as an equal.

Donata took a swallow of her beer. “Fascinating as this lesson on Ulfhednar society is, I don’t understand what it has to do with me. Unless you were hoping I would come to whatever the closing ceremonies are and hold up scorecards while wearing a tiny skirt and high heels.”

Magnus waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively in a way that sent shivers down her spine. He’d always been able to have that effect on her with the smallest of gestures. “Much as I’d love to see that, I’ve actually come to you for your professional expertise.”

“You want me to arrest someone?” she said.

“Not exactly.” Magnus set his empty bottle down on the coaster Ricky had produced seemingly out of thin air. The surface of the table was beyond saving, but Kobolds liked a neat house.

“We have an issue that is more in line with your other area of expertise.” He took a deep breath. “We’re being visited by our beloved dead. And it isn’t a pleasant experience.”

Donata blinked. “You’re being haunted?” So he wasn’t so much interested in the cop part of her Witch-cop talents as he was the Witch part. Interesting. “Why are they haunting you?”

Magnus sighed and sat up straight. She could see that he was struggling to talk about what the Ulfhednar considered private matters. Even when they’d been going out, he hadn’t been all that forthcoming about his people.

“We don’t really know. Our dead normally stay properly dead; they should be off happily carousing in Valhalla. Instead, one by one, most of those who are involved in the Ulf training process have seen manifestations of someone they lost. But the ghosts don’t speak, or if they do, none of us can hear them. It’s very disturbing.”

“I can see why it would be,” Donata said. She talked to ghosts all the time in the course of her job at the precinct. As the resident Witness Retrieval Specialist (more commonly referred to as a “Ghost Yanker”), she used her ability to speak to the dead to elicit testimony from the deceased victims of violent crimes. But that was different from having people you were close to showing up from beyond the veil.

Something occurred to her. “Wait, did you say these ghosts are only appearing to the prospective Ulf candidates? That’s kind of odd, isn’t it?”

“Odd. Suspicious. Freaky. Pick a term, they all apply.” Magnus rubbed one large hand over his face. “Not to mention dangerous. They only appear at night, dawn or dusk, but some of the training exercises take place after dark, usually deep in the woods. One of the guys nearly died when his brother suddenly appeared on a narrow ledge of the mountain he was climbing. Fell about thirty feet into some bushes, broke a bunch of bones, and cracked his head. Only his Ulfhednar healing abilities enabled him to survive it at all, and he’s out of the running until next year.”

“You climb mountains in the dark?” Donata said. “Never mind. Of course you do.” She shook her head. And she’d thought the police academy was tough. “Have you tried asking Odin or one of the lesser gods for help?”

Magnus bit his lip. “That’s part of the problem. Odin has stopped responding to any of our prayers or offerings, and he hasn’t appeared at the ceremonies held in his honor for the last three months.”

A grim look shadowed his normally cheerful expression. “This has never happened before. The people are worried that someone in Gimle—that’s our town—has done something to offend the gods and our ancestors. The residents are blaming each other and fights are breaking out, some of them dangerously violent, due to our natures. A town full of angry Shapeshifters isn’t a good thing, ’Nata. And the unsettled atmosphere is disturbing the concentration of those trying to finish their Ulf training and pass the tests that mark each level of achievement. That’s why I convinced our elders to let me come ask you for help.”

Donata considered her response. Half of her wanted to send him away. After all, he’d disappeared on her for months without any contact at all, and her heart and spirit were still feeling pretty battered from recent events. She really didn’t want to get involved in a complicated matter in a culture she didn’t understand with a man who had always been too much of a temptation. Hell, she mostly just wanted to hide in her apartment with her cat and her Kobold and avoid anything else that might cause her more pain.

On the other hand, the last person who had asked her for help had died after she’d turned him down. She didn’t think she’d ever get over the guilt for refusing to listen to Peter’s father, even though her reasons had seemed justified at the time. And even after they’d decided their conflicting values meant they couldn’t be in a relationship, she and Magnus had stayed friends. He’d come without a moment’s hesitation when she’d needed help last spring.

“So what do you want from me, exactly?” she asked. “For me to go try and talk to your dead?”

Magnus took her hand and gazed into her eyes with a look that in a lesser man might have been pleading. “Yes, that. And also, maybe you could use your ability to talk to gods besides the one you worship to find out why Odin has turned his face from us. I might be able to find another Witch who can speak to ghosts, but there are very few with your other gift.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed it there for a moment before releasing it. “But more than that, I trust you, and that isn’t something I can say about many other people. Please, Donata, will you help us?”

Crap. Crap on a plate with a side of fries. She never could say no to him, and besides, Donata Santori didn’t turn her back on friends. But man, she really, really, really didn’t want to get dragged into another mess right now.

She gave it one more shot. “I don’t know if I can get away from work for that long, Magnus. I do have a job, and I missed some time recently dealing with Peter’s issues.” Like the death of his father and the reappearance of the mysterious long-lost sixth race. She repressed an involuntary shudder. “Plus, you know, the days I missed seven months back dealing with the Pentacle Pentimento that started this whole thing.”

Magnus laughed so loud he scared Grimalkin off his lap. The cat stalked away to sit on the kitchen counter and glare at them both from the safety of his illicit perch.

“Unless you’ve changed a great deal since the last I saw you, I’m guessing you never take a day off except for some unavoidable Paranormal crisis. When is the last time you took a vacation?”

“Like going to some rural town in Maine to chase down ghosts would be a vacation,” Donata muttered, but she got up and went to the phone anyway. After a moment’s hesitation, she punched in the Chief’s cell number and prepared to get reamed out for bothering him after hours. On a Saturday, no less.

“O’Malley,” her boss answered. “Please tell me that none of your friends has set another building on fire, Santori. I’m not in the mood to make up lies for the fire department tonight.” To anyone else, this probably would have sounded intimidating, but Donata was used to dealing with the Chief, and if anything, he sounded resigned rather than peeved.

“Nope, not this time,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, sir, especially on the weekend.”

“Ha,” he said. “Tonight is my wife’s bridge night and the house is filled with women drinking cocktails with silly names and talking about TV shows I never watch. I’m hiding out in my office catching up on paperwork. Which I hate almost as much as bridge. Feel free to interrupt me. A nice bizarre case might be a relief at this point.”

“Sorry again, sir. No cases, bizarre or otherwise.” She took a deep breath. “I, uh, I know it is short notice, but I wondered if I could have a week off. Maybe two. Um, starting Monday morning.” She braced herself for the yelling. And possibly a few choice curse words.

There was a brief but noticeable pause on the other end of the phone. “You want to take time off,” the Chief said carefully.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry about not putting in for it ahead of time, but an old friend showed up tonight who needs my help. Needs my particular talents, if you know what I mean, so he can’t really ask anyone else.”

“Good,” the Chief said. “Take two weeks. Make it three if you need to.”

What the hell? “I’m sorry, what?” Donata said. That was definitely not the reaction she’d been expecting. Oh, goddess, what if he had finally decided that all the weird things she’d dragged to the surface were just too weird after all? “Are you firing me, sir?”

A sigh gusted down the line. “Did I say I was firing you, Santori?” She could hear him crunch down on one of the pencils he regularly chewed on since he’d quit smoking. “You have so much vacation time and sick time built up, HR is always on my ass about getting you to take some. Not to mention that you’ve been through a lot in the past year. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how tired you’ve been looking. To be honest, I was going to sit you down next week and order you to put in for a vacation sometime soon. You just saved me the trouble of doing it.”

Great. “If you’re sure, Chief.”

“When am I not sure about things, Santori? Now do me a favor, and stop arguing with me,” he said, and hung up on her.

Huh. Well, that was one problem down.

“So, I take it you can have the time off,” Magnus said with a grin. With his Shapechanger hearing, he’d undoubtedly caught every word of both sides of the conversation. “Great. I’ll help you pack.”

“Not so fast. I need to call my friend Doc and see if she can feed the cat.”

Ricky appeared in the space by Donata’s knees, making her jump, as usual.

“I’m staying here, Missus,” he said. “Someone has to look after the place while you’re gone. I’ll feed the cat, no worries. Just stock the fridge before you leave. I can always swipe food from the neighbors, but they eat too much bad Thai takeout.”

“If you’re certain you don’t mind,” Donata said.

“I’m certain,” the little man said. “You go and have fun with Magnus. You could use a break.”

Right, Donata thought. Because trying to wrangle a bunch of ghosts in a town full of antagonistic Shapeshifters while attempting to track down their missing god sounds like a day at the beach. What was really sad was that, after the year she’d had, it probably would be.