Blood Wyne (14 page)
“What’s the situation?” I glanced over at the building in front of which we were standing. A simple one-story building, it looked like it had once been a bar or a small diner. “Hostages in there?”
He nodded. “Yeah, in the basement. At least that’s the last message we got from one of the women trapped down there. Five people are down there. The last we heard, the ghosts were tearing up the joint—full-on poltergeist activity, swiping passes at the ghost hunters, including claw marks. And we aren’t talking
Casper the Friendly
here.”
Casper the Friendly
here.”
I glanced over at Camille. “What do you and Morio think?”
She shrugged, looking around. Morio had already gone into a trance, looking for all the world like he was stoned out of his mind. But even I knew that he was off on the astral, feeling out the situation.
“Chase, is there anything else you can tell us? Do you know what this place was? Were there any murders here? This is hardcore Earthside supernatural activity, so something brutal must have gone down around here.”
“I’ve got Yugi running a check on it,” he said, then stopped. “Just a minute.” He pressed his hand against his ear, and I realized he was wearing a Bluetooth earpiece. “It’s him. Give me five.”
Camille held out her hand and jumped. “I can feel it from out here. You can’t tell me that something horrible didn’t happen here.”
Morio snapped out of his trance at that point. “This entire area is a beacon for Netherworld activity. The energy reads like a cloud of gaseous green pain. I don’t know why, but I think this district has become the gathering place for malcontented spirits all around the city.”
“We can’t take them all on—not at once.” Camille pointed toward the building. “We’ll have to focus on the ones in there.”
“Did you bring the Black Unicorn horn?” I was hoping she’d say yes, but once again, wishes don’t always play into reality.
“No, tonight’s the new moon and it needs to finish charging. It took a long time to recover after my night with the Hunt.” A haunted look crossed her face, and I knew she was remembering. When you sacrifice an Immortal, even if he’s to be reincarnated and chose you as his executioner, you don’t just forget it and go along your merry way. Camille had been emotionally scarred by the experience, even though it had earned her the mantle of priestess. “You’re going to have to make do with Moon and death magic.”
“Better the death magic,” I mumbled. Camille’s Moon magic went astray all too often. Although now that she was working under the dark of the moon more, she seemed to be doing a little better. She’d been assigned the wrong phase since childhood, and it had caused her powers to short-circuit, perhaps more so than her half-human heritage. We weren’t sure yet.
I motioned to the others. “Fall in behind me. Shade, you can walk in the shadows. Will you slip up ahead and find out what’s going on?”
He nodded—once—and seemed to vanish right before our eyes. Actually, it wasn’t like a light going out, or like he’d turned invisible, but more a slow fade till he was translucent. Then he just went
poof
in a quiet way and was gone.
poof
in a quiet way and was gone.
“I’d like to know more about the Stradolan,” Morio said. “I can’t find any mention of them in any of the books.”
“You won’t, either.” Smoky shook his head. “The Stradolan inhabit the Netherworlds, and they partner with the black dragons to create a unified team. My guess is that somewhere, a linked pair fell in love or lust or something, and boom, Shade was born. His mother would have to be the dragon, though, and his father the Stradolan, or he wouldn’t walk in physical form at all.”
We all turned to him. “Why did you never tell us this before?” Camille frowned and smacked him on the arm.
He arched his eyebrow. “No one seemed particularly interested.”
“I think Delilah will be,” I said.
“He’s probably told her. I’m pleasantly surprised by how honorable he’s turned out to be. Of course, as you know, we dragons are a cagey lot, so I advise keeping watch on him for a while. He’s probably listening to every word we say, by the way.” Smoky let out a long huff. “I suggest we get in there if you hope to rescue the humans in one piece.”
I’d been hoping Shade would come back first, armed with information, but Smoky had a point. The longer we waited, the more dangerous the situation was becoming. “Okay, let’s head in. Shade will find us.”
I swung toward the building, motioning for Vanzir to move up front with me. Morio and Camille were next, with Trillian and Smoky taking up the back. We were about to head in when Chase came running over.
“Okay, I’ve got some info for you. Place used to be a diner, but before that it was a small tavern and card room. Real hole in the wall, and a hangout for thugs. This was back in the 1940s. The owner, one Randy Smith, found out his wife was leaving him for his brother and that they’d been having sex in the basement while he was out running errands. Randy didn’t let on he knew, just sneaked back to the bar when one of his buddies gave him the heads-up they were both here, and he caught them. Guy went apeshit. Tied and gagged them both, then closed the bar early, after which he returned to the basement, where he made his wife watch while he bludgeoned his brother to death.”
I had a nasty feeling the tale didn’t end there.
“He had something extra special planned for his wife. Left her tied up, rubbed some of his brother’s blood on her, then brought in a pack of rats and set them loose. They swarmed her and ate her alive.” He grimaced. “Yugi saw the photos of what was left. Not pretty.”
“So, we have at least two angry spirits.” One spirit—trouble. Two—a hornet’s nest.
“Not so fast,” Chase said. “I’m not done yet. The guy then killed himself by rigging a sawed-off shotgun to shoot his brains out. Nobody found them for three days. Bar was sold to an older mom-and-pop pair who turned it into a diner. Couple who’d been together forty years, happy as clams.”
“Why does my gut tell me this is going to get worse?” Camille said.
“Because it does.” Chase consulted his notebook. “Within a year, the old guy went nuts and pushed his wife down the basement stairs. She hit her head and died. He must have realized what he’d just done, because he called the cops to turn himself in. By the time they got here, he’d hanged himself right over her fallen body.”
“Is that the end of the body count?” I glanced at his face.
He shook his head, his expression grim. “No. The diner sold twice more and there were five more unexplained deaths. No more couples, but odd accidents that never fully added up. Never enough evidence to call them homicide. The building was last vacated in 1981 and has stood empty ever since.”
We stared at each other. So, a mob of angry spirits. Violence to the point of nausea. Camille bit her lip and glanced over at the building.
“Are there things . . . remember the goshanti devil on the land where Harold Young’s house stood? The land Carter now owns? Remember how it was created by the souls of all the murdered women?”
Morio slowly nodded. “I see what you’re getting at, and yes, there are demonic entities—astral beasties—that can be formed by an excess of violence all within a small area. Whether we’re dealing with something like that here, I don’t know. But we’d better keep it in mind.” He looked at me. “Do you think our serial vamp is hanging out here?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so, but you never know. For one thing, if these ghosts can kill vampires like Roman said, it’s not a safe place for any of us. For another, I just have a feeling the whole area is tainted and our vampire is just one cog in the spooky wheel.”
“I suppose we’d better go in.” Camille turned to Chase. “You stay here—the fewer targets we have the better. Have your men keep a tight rein on that little congregation out there.” She nodded to the shouting mob just beyond the barricades. “The last thing we need is for them to interfere.”
“She’s right,” I said, looking at the detective. “The damage could be a whole lot worse if they got through.”
“Gotcha.” He motioned to one of the nearby officers and whispered to him. The guy looked half-elf, but it was hard to say for sure. Whatever his heritage, he nodded and headed back to the crowd control cops.
Chase cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets, stamping from one foot to the other as snow fluttered down to chill the silent world. “I’ve told them to use tear gas if necessary, and I’ve called for more backup. But you’d better get moving. Things like this can turn ugly really fast, and they don’t seem to realize that a group of ghosts can be as dangerous as a bunch of armed robbers holding hostages in a bank.”
I motioned to the others. “Let’s go see what we’re dealing with.” Leading the way with Vanzir by my side, we headed into Spook Central, ready for a fight.
CHAPTER 8
As we approached the building, I noticed that the diner had been boarded shut, but somebody had pried off the plywood—recently, by the smell of splintered wood—and entered through the front door.
Vanzir and I stepped over the threshold, into darkness. I paused, to let my eyes adjust, and glanced around. The room was barely discernible in the glow of the streetlamp from outside. There was a noise and then a light as Smoky and Trillian pulled out flashlights that attached to their belts.
We’d gotten wise after enough fights in the dark—we’d raided the hardware stores in search of any gadgets that might make life easier and wouldn’t interfere with Camille’s magic. A lot of electronics went wonky around all of us—thanks to our Fae wiring—so we had to be choosy. But we’d found flashlights that could be clipped on the belt and gave off a diffuse light that wouldn’t blind us, but still illuminated the corners of a small room. Also, penlights, small and easy to carry, that could be hooked on a keychain.
The room was large, though, so the corners were out of sight in the gloom. But we could see the counter covered with a thick layer of dust, and the door into what was likely the kitchen. The room still had several old Formica-covered tables and vinyl sundae chairs scattered around. A faded Norman Rockwell print hung on a nearby wall.
But as inviting as the diner once must have been, the energy was thick and dank, and the hairs on my arms stood up. Camille let out a little gasp, and Morio stepped closer and took her hand.
“Bad,”
she said. “This place has bad juju. The energy is like a live wire, and while I don’t feel Demonkin, whatever’s here is evil. Malignant, like a cancer growing in the very air.”
she said. “This place has bad juju. The energy is like a live wire, and while I don’t feel Demonkin, whatever’s here is evil. Malignant, like a cancer growing in the very air.”
As she spoke, the print on the wall crashed to the ground. I whirled, looking for anybody or anything that might have jarred it down, but there was no one in sight.
“The temperature just dropped,” Morio said.
Camille nodded, her teeth chattering. A puff of white escaped from her mouth as she breathed. “By about twenty degrees, I’d say. Spirit activity for sure.”
I didn’t notice much difference—cold and heat were fairly innocuous to me and neither one caught my attention until it was at an extreme. “What’s that mean? Are you talking normal drop or—”
“I’m talking supernatural drop. The temperature just plunged twenty degrees in less than a minute.” Morio barely got the words out before a dusty soda glass from behind the counter went flying across the room to smash against the opposite wall, almost hitting Vanzir.
“What the fuck?” Vanzir jumped, whirling around. “Who did that?”
“Poltergeist maybe, but I’m guessing the spirits here are a lot more dangerous than mere poltergeists.” Morio warily glanced around. “I’m not sure where to begin. We’d better find the FBHs who are trapped. Where’s the basement? Want to make a bet that’s where they were headed?”
I glanced around, then saw an opening leading into the back. “Probably over there.”
As we headed in the direction of the door, something tapped me on the shoulder. “What?” I glanced back, expecting to see Smoky or Trillian, but they were too far behind me. “Who tapped me on the shoulder?”
Smoky’s face was paler than usual. “I saw a black shadow.” He shook his head. “One minute I was looking at your back, then a shadow appeared and vanished before I could say a word.”
“Not funny.” I growled under my breath. “Nobody messes with me, be they human, spirit, or vampire. We have to do something. Morio—Camille—is there something we can rig up here to keep them from bothering us while we investigate—”
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