Spirit Storm (6 page)

*****

We were already eating from the first tray of cookies and waiting for the second batch to cool when I received a call from Cal. He and Simon hadn’t found the missing teen and were on their way back to town. We agreed to meet them at the cabin in thirty minutes.

Emma and I waited for the last cookies to cool and cleaned the kitchen. Her mom and dad would be home from work soon which was why we didn’t invite the guys over to her house. Simon didn’t play well with others. We left a plate of cookies wrapped in cling wrap on the kitchen table for her parents and a note explaining Emma would be back by eight o’clock. I hoped the cats would continue to stay out of the kitchen after we left. Chairman Meow might be getting a plate full of vegan cookies for dinner.

On the drive over to the cabin Emma was fidgeting at the wheel and seemed distracted. We had been laughing and having a good time while baking, but now she looked anxious and little worry lines were beginning to pop out on her forehead. I tried to remember if I had said anything to upset her, but was drawing a blank. I even liked her cookies and had told her so. Emma fuming wasn’t good. I needed to do something to defuse the Emma bomb…
and fast.

“So, are you okay?” I asked. I might as well be direct. We were only a few minutes from the cabin so I didn’t have time for subtleties.

“Oh sure, if by okay you mean totally freaked out,” she answered.

Okay.
“Did I miss something?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed and put her turn signal on, pulling over to the side of the road. When we came to a complete stop she still held the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip. “Please tell me I’m not going crazy,” she said.

“Whatever it is, you are not going crazy,” I said. “You’re one of the most sane people I know.”

“Well, then why are snakes talking to me?” she asked. Emma turned to face me, her usual calm exterior shattered. “When I was locking up, as we were leaving the house, the snake in the terrarium by the door spoke to me.” She looked like she was going to be sick and her hands had started to shake.

“But I thought this happened once before at the clinic,” I said. “No big. Really. This stuff happens to me all the time. Granted it usually happens in my dreams, but I think there’s some weird metaphysical trickster who likes to mess with us and make us all experience these things a bit differently. I wouldn’t worry about it though. You are not going crazy.”

“When it had only happened once I thought I could just blow it off as a one shot trip to crazy land,” she said. “But when it just happened again it was like…like being told that I’m now a part of this. Like no matter how much I want to go back to being normal I am going to stay like this. I…I guess I just wasn’t ready for the big reveal.”

“Yeah, I don’t think any of us ever are,” I said, reaching for her hand.

Emma gave my hand a quick squeeze, then pulled back to face the road. “You know what I could use right now?” she asked. “A good fight and a whole plate full of cookies.”

I had been hoping to avoid one of Simon and Emma’s explosive arguments, but if that was what would make her feel better right now then that was what she would get.
One big bad wolf coming right up.

We arrived at the cabin a few minutes later and Emma marched in looking for a fight. I almost felt bad for Simon.
Almost.
Calvin and Emma were the only one’s there though when I walked inside.

“Where is he?” Emma asked, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Cal raised an eyebrow, but answered, “Simon shifted and went to check the perimeter. We need to be careful with the killer still out there somewhere and neither of us have been here all afternoon. He should be back soon.”

“We baked cookies,” I announced, waving the plate of oatmeal applesauce cookies.

“All for me?” Cal asked, jokingly. “Thanks!”

“No, not all for you,” I said, laughing. “You have to share.”

Cal slipped his arms around my waist and leaned in for a kiss. “Are you sure I can’t have the whole plate?” he mumbled.

Nice try Calvin Miller.
“Have…to…share,” I mumbled.

He kissed the edge of my mouth and smiled. “Okay princess, may I have one cookie?” he asked.

“Sure,” I answered as he ate the cookie in two bites. “It’s vegan.”

“What?” he asked and nearly choked. “You could have told me first.”

Emma and I started giggling. “But then you never would have tried one,” I said.

Cal pulled a funny face and pretended to choke making Emma laugh harder.

“Act like that and I’ll make you eat the whole plate yourself,” Emma threatened.

“Mwhahaha, my evil plan has succeeded!” Cal exclaimed. “Hand over the plate.”

Emma and Cal ran around the cabin with the cookie plate. It was good to see them both laughing.
Just like old times.

We all had a funeral to go to the following day so Emma and I left early. Simon hadn’t returned yet, but Emma no longer seemed in need of an argument and I was too tired to deal with his annoying personality. We agreed to meet at Cal’s parents’ house in the morning. Our group would then split into two couples, me and Cal and Emma and Simon, so we could blend at the funeral.
Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.

Chapter 9

October 23
^rd

I awoke to the rumble of thunder overhead.
Great, that bodes well.
I rolled out of bed and padded to the window. The sky was gray, with dark smudges of storm clouds in the distance, but it wasn’t raining.
Yet.
I walked to the bathroom and flicked on the overhead light. My reflection stared back at me gloomily. I was wearing my retro Gremlins pajamas and Gizmo was giving me a thumbs up.

“Yeah yeah, I know, Gizzy is the shizzy,” I mumbled at my reflection. I mirrored Gizmo’s thumbs up and wandered off in search of food and caffeine.

Getting dressed should have been the easy part of my day. People wear black to funerals and I had a closet brimming full of black clothing. Easy right? Unfortunately I was also dressing for battle. Going to the funeral meant entering a cemetery where I would likely be bombarded with the smell impressions of its many ghostly residents. I was going to need every protection trick and spirit ward up my sleeve if I hoped to survive the day with my sanity intact. The hard part was that I really needed to literally fit these items up my sleeves. I could get away with a few crosses, but too much occult bling at a public funeral would draw the wrong kind of attention. We needed to be discreet, hence my wardrobe dilemma.

I set my chain mail for spirits down on the bed with a sigh. There was no way it was fitting under any of my nice blouses. I grabbed a belly chain that I had only been brave enough to wear once and attached a few charms to it, extra crosses, a silver four leaf clover, a Thai Buddha amulet, and a Seal of Solomon protection charm, and slipped it on. I grabbed a non-toxic magic marker and drew a few more crosses and symbols from the library books on my upper arms and stomach where they wouldn’t show once I was fully dressed.

I pulled a black cami on first and my high necked ruffle blouse over that. I hooked my evil eye pendant around my neck and slipped the pendant under the blouse. I slipped my large ornate cross necklace over my head and let the cross rest on my blouse. It was goth, but not too over the top. I clipped a few tiny bells into my hair, then pulled on a floor length black skirt and laced up my boots. There were a few loose herbs in the toe of each boot, more spirit protection, and they tickled my stocking feet.

Thunder rattled my window and I decided to bring my waterproof trench coat and an umbrella. I shoved a few more charms into my coat pockets and, with a silent prayer, ran for the stairs. I felt the cold sliver of fear slide down my back.
Or was that just one of my charms?
Either way I had a bad feeling about this.

*****

Emma was waiting for me in the driveway and looked fabulous in her black dress. Emma normally only wore white, cream, or gray so it was a shock to see her alabaster skin and pale blond hair against the contrasting black of her dress.

“You look amazing,” I said. She also looked older, but I wasn’t going to mention that. I wondered if it was intentional. She was going as Simon’s date after all.

“Thanks, you too,” she said, getting into the driver’s seat. “Are you jingling?”

“Um, yeah, that would be me,” I said guiltily. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Not really,” she answered. “You might just want to refrain from jumping up and down.”

“Right, because people do that all the time at funerals,” I said sarcastically.

“Fine, don’t take my advice,” she said primly.

What was her deal today?
“You ready for some detective work?” I asked. “You and Simon can be like Holmes and Watson or Starsky and Hutch.”

Emma shot me a look that would freeze lava.
Well at least I know what she’s mad about.
If I hadn’t been so focused on my own dread of today, then I would have realized just how uncomfortable Emma must be pretending to be Simon’s date for the day. She was eighteen and he was
old
. I wasn’t exactly sure how old, but he was probably in his thirties.
You know, ancient.

“So I was wondering if maybe we should have a change in plan,” I said. “You could give Simon a ride, but then split up when you get to the funeral. You don’t really have to stay together.”

Emma let out a sigh. “I would, but I have to admit that the boys have a point,” she said. “We shouldn’t go in there on our own. There’s a killer prowling around and I, for one, don’t want to be his next victim. No, we’ll stick to the plan. The buddy system is the sensible thing to do.”

“You could call Simon your ‘buddy’ all day,” I suggested. “That would probably annoy him.”

“I like that plan,” she said. “I like that plan a lot.”

*****

“Ah, there’s the little lady,” Simon said as we walked into Cal’s parents’ house. He swaggered over and put his arm around Emma. “Miss me, love? No worries, we get to spend the entire day together.”

Simon was so totally a dead man.

“It’s not wise to taunt your doctor,” Emma said icily. “You wouldn’t want me angry the next time I patch you up…or when you’re sick and I make you drink my tea.” Emma reached up and skillfully slipped out from under Simon’s arm while placing her hand on his forehead. “Why Simon, are you running a fever? You may need my tea sooner than you think.”

Simon blanched and looked uncertain. Emma had a level of power within the wolf pack, they were in need of her medical and veterinary skills, but up until now she had only made Simon drink her tea. An experience he obviously didn’t want to repeat.
Ever.
What Emma was doing now was establishing her rank in the hierarchy and Simon seemed unsure of how to proceed. She wasn’t one of the Old Blood so they couldn’t fight for dominance, which only seemed to leave a battle of wits and wills, and Emma was very, very good at arguing. Simon seemed to size her up then stepped away.

“Fine, doc, whatever,” he muttered. “Can we get this show on the road? We have a killer to find and a brother to mourn.”

“Ready?” Cal asked.

It suddenly occurred to me he hadn’t said a word or stepped in when Emma and Simon were having their power struggle. He let them work things out on their own and Emma had come out on top.

“Ready,” I said.

Now that I didn’t have to worry about Emma, I had my own problems to obsess over. Emma and Simon left in her car while Cal and I pulled away in his truck.

The ride to the cemetery was the longest ten minutes of my life. When we reached the wrought iron cemetery gates I tried, and failed, to repress a shudder. The sky overhead had darkened and as I looked past the stone walls, to the row upon row of grave stones, I couldn’t help imagining the spectral images of wailing ghosts and hand wringing spirits around every stone and monument. I really needed to lay off the scary movies. My mind was conjuring up horrifying images and I wasn’t sure if this was some form of coping mechanism or a slow descent into madness. Maybe I should just stay here in the truck.
Yeah, that’s it. I’ll just stay here on the nice safe street in the safety of Cal’s truck.

Cal’s fingers reaching out to hold my hand nearly made me faint in terror.
Oh yeah, it’s official, I am totally freaking out.

“You don’t have to go in,” Cal said. He was looking at me with such open concern that my breath turned into a hiccupping sob.
No. I was not going to cry. Not today.

“Yes, I do,” I said. “I may be able to divine something from the smell impressions. And…and it probably isn’t even safe out here by myself.”

I didn’t like admitting that last part. I preferred to think of myself as tough and self-reliant, but the reality was that a killer with supernatural strength was stalking the Old Blood and possibly those closest to them. I was also a mess. I was stressed out and sleep deprived and jumping at shadows. Entering the cemetery may not be on my list of favorite ways to spend the day, but it was what I needed to do. Hopefully I wouldn’t commit any funeral faux pas like hyperventilating, flailing at the air, or running screaming through the cemetery. Fingers crossed.
Toes too.

Cal was holding my hand, but I still managed to jingle along with my jangling nerves. I just couldn’t stop fidgeting.

“I’ve got charms that jingle jangle jingle,” I sang quietly to myself.

“Are you singing?” Cal asked quietly. He was smiling which was a good thing. At least, I hoped it was a good thing. I sure as heck prayed it wasn’t the smile that came before calling the men with straightjackets.
They’re coming to take me away, ha ha, they’re coming to take me away.

“Sorry, nervous habit,” I said. I felt like I was speaking too rapidly, a sharp staccato that sounded harsh to my ears, and the smell of burning brownies was increasing.

Cal must have sensed my growing unease because he gathered me into his arms and held me tight. The smell that was Cal, woods, wet dog, fresh air, and warm skin, washed over me and I began to feel safe.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Cal said into my hair. “I won’t leave you. You don’t have to face this alone.”