Grave Dance (30 page)

My magic poured out of me, into the greedy, spectral hands, and each ghost that touched me became more solid, more real. None manifested as forceful y as the first woman, but they crossed over enough to be wel and true poltergeists.

Chaos erupted as the now visible ghosts took ful advantage of their mostly corporeal state. They rushed at the skimmers, and screams shook the underground space.

The pudgy skimmer I’d spoken to before I reached the mausoleum turned sheet white and hit the ground in a faint.

Tw o other skimmers scrambled over him as they fled toward the stairs.

The ghosts howled and laughed and screamed as they soared around the room, knocking beds askew, tossing things against the wal s, and shoving skimmers. Some were actual y trying to help me, but most did it just because they could. That was just fine with me. It worked. The skimmers were scattering, the ghosts giving chase.

A gunshot sounded, deafening in the tight underground A gunshot sounded, deafening in the tight underground space, and I hit the floor, crouching over PC, who gave a terrified yip. A second, then a third, and a fourth shot banged through the room, and as I hadn’t been hit yet, I chanced a look up.

Both goons had pul ed guns and were emptying their clips into the ghosts. But you can’t kil what’s already dead.

The ricochet off the concrete wal s could do some damage to the living, though.
Time to get out of here.

Bel was the only one watching as I dashed for the stairwel , but his bel owing yel s were lost in the chaos. I was stil straddling the land of the dead, which made the stairs treacherous. Several of the steps crumbled under my feet as I ran, and I knew I was doing real damage, but I didn’t care. I burst out of the mausoleum.

Up in the graveyard proper, ghosts were chasing the skimmers who’d fled. If the skimmers had run for the gates, the ghosts wouldn’t have been able to fol ow, but either they didn’t know that or they were too frightened to realize which direction was out. Instead they dashed around tombstones, tripping over grave markers, while the half-manifested specters fol owed close behind.

PC was like a furnace against my chest as I ran. I was cold. Real y cold, and the chil stil sank into my skin from al sides. But I didn’t dare release my touch on the grave yet.

I made a dash for the gates, but stopped just short of rushing through them. If I crossed those gates, I might not be able to reclaim my heat. I couldn’t afford to leave a chunk of my life force behind.

Turning, I reached for my power. The mausoleum was on the opposite side of the cemetery, ghosts stil underneath and others spread across the large graveyard. I’d never tried to use my power to reach across a distance anywhere near that far. Not that I had a lot of choice. I found my heat, my power, and I pul ed. It fol owed the wel -worn path through my psyche back into my body, which did little but make me feel even colder. I slammed my shields shut, make me feel even colder. I slammed my shields shut, blocking the essence stil clawing at me. Then I turned and ran on shaky legs out of the graveyard.

Chapter 28

I
ground to a halt in the parking lot. A couple of the cars that had arrived with us were now missing, so I knew that some of the skimmers had managed to escape, but plenty of cars remained.
Now would be a good time to know how to hot-wire a vehicle.
I could even see. Sort of. In an I-justchanneled-a-massive-amount-of-power-and-my-psyche-took-over-for-my-eyes kind of way. Driving wouldn’t be
safe
, but I could probably keep the car from hitting a tree.

Unfortunately hot-wiring cars wasn’t part of my repertoire.

Well, I can’t just stand here.
Now that I’d reclaimed my heat from the ghosts, they would be a lot less corporeal, which meant the skimmers would be after me any minute. If the goons hadn’t accidental y shot them al .

I dashed across the gravel lot, the rocks shifting under my feet and doing nothing for my already precarious balance. I had the option of sticking to the road or tromping through the woods. I’d make it farther, faster fol owing the road, but the skimmers would also have an easier time catching up with me once they reached their cars. Not that I didn’t think they’d find me in the woods—they stil had those damn tracking spel s, no doubt—but the odds were at least slightly more in my favor.

My lungs burned like ice in my chest, and the muscles in my thighs itched with exertion. I stopped, sagging against a tree as I gulped down air. I was shaking so hard PC would suffer whiplash soon, but I had to keep running. I squeezed my eyes closed.
Once I catch my breath.

If I survived this, I was going to have to take up running.

If I survived this, I was going to have to take up running.

Digging my phone out from under PC, I glanced at the time.
Nearly two.
Somehow I had to make it to the bridge
and
elude the skimmers, who I could hear crashing through the woods in the distance behind me. I could cal John, but I wasn’t familiar with the area. Where would I tel him to meet me? Hel , right now al I knew about my location was that I was somewhere west of the cemetery and I could hear the river.

I shoved the phone back into my purse and my fingers brushed the enchanted bridle Malik had lent me before we went looking for the kelpie. I stopped. I could hear the river, so I wasn’t far, and a horse could cover ground a whole lot faster than I could.

“It’s a crazy idea,” I told PC between wheezing breaths.

He looked up at me with his big brown very freaked-out eyes. The sound of the skimmers crashing through the underbrush was getting closer. I had to get moving again.

I headed toward the sound of running water. Tricking a carnivorous horse who liked to drown and eat people who climbed on her back
was
a crazy idea. But I didn’t have any better ones.

Once I reached the riverbank, I pul ed my dagger and pressed the point into the flesh of my finger. The last cut hadn’t even healed yet, and here I was bleeding into the river again. I only hoped her curiosity would get the better of her and she would answer.

I stood on the bank, shivering and waiting with the bridle clutched behind my back for what felt like a long time. Every sound from the wood made me turn, expecting to see the skimmers rushing toward me. Then the water swirled as a large dark head emerged.

“You do taste tempting,” she said, her large nostrils flaring as she inhaled my scent. “Have you changed your mind? Care for a ride?”

“Actual y, yes.”

The horse blinked at me. I hadn’t spent a lot of time The horse blinked at me. I hadn’t spent a lot of time around horses, only one summer when my father sent Casey and me to camp, so I wasn’t familiar with al of their expressions. I hadn’t realized that a horse could project pleased surprise, maybe even anticipation. She swam for the bank and then climbed up onto the damp sand. I’d forgotten quite how big she was until I found myself staring at an eye-level flank.

She leaned forward, stretching her front legs and lowering herself. “Climb on.”

Okay, this is it.
I stepped forward, reaching for her thick neck. Then I tossed the bridle over her head. Malik had said as long as I tossed it, it would catch her.

It worked.

The kelpie screamed, a loud, equine yel of fury. “Release me this instant.”

“A favor, and I wil let you go.”

Her dark eye rol ed in the socket, focusing on me, and she whipped her large head around like a dog shaking out his coat. Water and seaweed flung off her, hitting me, but I didn’t release the reins.

After a moment, she huffed and turned her head toward me. “Name your request.”

Now the tricky part.
I had to get the wording right or she’d find a loophole, which she would probably exploit as on opportunity to eat me.

Goon One, or maybe Goon Two—hard to say which, stepped out of the forest beside me.
Damn, out of time.

“I request a ride for myself and my dog, above the water.

You wil carry us to the old bridge as fast as you can and al ow us to dismount unharmed.” I hoped I hadn’t missed anything.

“Fine.”

The kelpie lowered her front legs again and I scrambled onto her back as the goon ran toward us. I had time to see him lift a gun. Aim it at me. Then the kelpie went from standing to an unnatural gal op and the world flashed by standing to an unnatural gal op and the world flashed by me.

I clung to the reins with one hand, my purse and PC with the other, and kept my knees pressed hard against the kelpie’s sides. I’d never ridden bareback, and I expected to fight to keep my seat, but the kelpie’s scales were sticky, holding me in place.
Well, how else would she keep her
riders locked on her back while she drowned them?

The trees blurred as she gal oped past, and then the giant arch of the bridge loomed ahead of us. She slowed to a canter and then stopped at the base of the bridge. I slid down to my feet, my legs trembling with more than just exhaustion.

The kelpie shook her head and the bridle slid free. She looked at me, and huffed a breath smel ing of rotted fish in my face. Then she turned, stepping into the river.

“You have not made a friend this day, feykin,” she said as she sank under the water.

“I know.” But I didn’t apologize.

She stopped with just her dark eyes and pointed ears above the water. “Perhaps your pursuers wil desire a ride.”

Then she vanished.

Maybe I’d grown jaded, but I couldn’t force myself to care if she ate the goons.

The colectors were waiting for me in the center of the bridge. I didn’t see the cops as I made my way along the bank, but I imagined that wherever they were they could see me.
Wonder what they thought of that entrance?

I put PC and my purse under the bridge, tucked away out of sight behind a support pil ar.

“Stay,” I said, pointing at him. He whined, but lay down, the bag shifting with his movement.

If I had to get out of here quickly, it was going to be hard to reach him, but he’d been through a lot tonight. If things to reach him, but he’d been through a lot tonight. If things went badly, I wanted him out of harm’s way.

Death smiled as I climbed the bank, relief making his hazel eyes brighter. I didn’t bother fighting the answering smile that his summoned in me, but joined him and the other two col ectors. The center of the bridge seemed as good a place as any to draw my circle. A circle that I actual y planned to use this time.

“Looks like you made it just in time,” the gray man said, and pointed with the skul that topped his cane.

The water on the far side of the bridge bubbled and whirled as a large shadow expanded under the surface of the river. A giant green head emerged. It looked like the head of an al igator with a long, leathery snout stopping in a flat forehead and thick eye ridges—but the head alone was the size of an al igator.

Sea serpent?

Then another head emerged. And another. I stumbled back against the railing of the bridge as two more heads on long, scaled necks emerged.
How many of these things
are there?

Seven. Heads, at least. Then the first huge taloned foot grabbed the side of the bridge as the creature hauled itself up, and I realized that al the heads were attached to one beast.
Hydra.

And another construct.
How many souls are fueling that
thing?
The mist under its glamoured form was solid, completely obscuring the charmed disk in the jumble of souls.

The police, whom I hadn’t seen, shouted into radios, cal ing for backup. I glanced at the edge of the bridge, wondering if I even had a chance of making it to the bank—

this thing’s reach was massive. Then my senses picked up on familiar magic that was
not
part of the construct.

I let my eyes fol ow my senses. There, around the center head’s neck was a large col ar, and dangling from the col ar was a ruby saturated with Hol y’s magic. I’d never seen her was a ruby saturated with Hol y’s magic. I’d never seen her without the charm.

The police surged forward, opening fire on the hydra.

Their bul ets were too smal in caliber to do much against the hydra’s thick hide, but the col ectors were a lot more effective as they lunged at heads and jerked souls free.

“Wait! It’s wearing one of Hol y’s charms. Maybe it’s supposed to take me somewhere,” I yel ed, staring at the head with the jewel strapped to its neck. I met its red eyes, looking for a sign of intel igence, of intent.

It blinked large, reptilian eyes at me. Then lunged.

Huge fangs hurtled toward me, but Death reached me first. He tackled me to the ground, his hand behind my head keeping my skul from cracking against the stone. The hydra’s head sliced through the air above him, taking out a section of the bridge railing where I’d been standing. Death twisted, watching the head withdraw. Then he turned back toward me.

“Love, the only way that thing is supposed to take you somewhere is if it passes off the spel in its fangs. Don’t try to reason with it,” he said, his face close enough that his breath drifted over my lips as he spoke. His face wasn’t the only thing close. The entire front of his body pressed against mine. He seemed to realize that fact at the same time I did because a grin spread over his face. “I real y wish there wasn’t a hydra here,” he said, his voice pitched low.

Then he rol ed off me and helped me to my feet.

Damn hydra.

Death stepped away, his focus on the hydra again. Oh, I wanted to destroy that construct. Bad.

I glanced at my dagger. If my reach had been a handicap with the gryphon, it was astronomical y worse with the hydra. The dagger was just too smal .
Only one other
option.

I dropped my shields.

I could feel graves in the darkness. The essence from smal dead animals, some not so smal , and some that smal dead animals, some not so smal , and some that were most definitely not animals, reached for me. Fresh graves. Old graves. And some graves that felt ancient as the essence clawed at me, trying to sink under my skin.

I didn’t have enough time to do more than try to block out the encroaching essence as one of the hydra’s heads snapped toward me. I dove to the side, reaching with power. As the head recoiled for another strike, I pul ed with magic. A soul popped free. The head shrank.
One soul
down.

Someone released a sharp scream and I whirled around.

Beside me, the raver pressed a hand over her arm—an arm soaked in blood.
The hydra can hurt them?
My racing heart stumbled in my chest, missing several beats as my gaze snapped to where Death dodged the lunging heads, his hands darting out whenever one got too close. The head always drew back smal er, down one more soul. Then two heads rushed him at once.

No!

I thrust my power into the head lunging for his back, and jerked at the souls inside. One. Two. Three souls popped free. Then I was fal ing forward, the bridge rushing up to slam into my knees. The gray man stood above me, jabbing his cane into the nostril of a head fil ing the space where I’d been.

“Watch your own back, girl. He’l watch his,” he said as he pul ed his cane free. “We could use more room to maneuver. The beast is targeting you. Lead it to the bank.

We’l cover you.”

Right. I pushed to my feet, then immediately dove to the side as another head lunged forward. I made it only a few feet with each sprint, but true to his word, the gray man covered my dash off the bridge. Two men in uniform met me on the bank.

“Bul ets won’t pierce its skin,” I said, turning back to reach with my power again. The hand I lifted shook too hard to hold straight.

hold straight.

“It’s fae, right?” one of the men asked as he snapped a clip into his gun. A gun I wasn’t familiar with but bigger than the Glocks that most of the homicide detectives carried. It was also spel ed. He pul ed the trigger and one of the heads exploded.

I blinked at him, wide-eyed, as he squeezed off three more shots. Another head scattered into mist. We’d already destroyed two, and while he lined up another shot, the col ectors finished off the last three heads. Then al that was left was a lumbering body. The col ectors tore into it as the gunman squeezed the trigger twice more.

He smiled as the beast vanished and a disk the size of a tabletop hit the ground. “Spel ed iron,” he said, clearly thinking his bul ets had done the trick. I
so
wanted to disil usion him, but I didn’t. He turned to me and held out his hand. “Name’s Tucker.”

“Alex Craft.”

Tucker’s vest had ABMU stitched on the front.
anti–black
magic unit?
When John arranged backup, he didn’t skimp.

Or maybe I was earning a reputation for trouble.

I left Tucker showing his gun to several of the uniformed officers and used my ability to sense magic to track where Hol y’s ruby amulet had fal en. I found it in the grass near the foot of the bridge. Then, clutching the amulet in my fist, I made my way to the three col ectors, who were huddled over the charmed disk.