Vendetta (Deadly Curiosities Book 2) (52 page)

“Father Anne,” Sorren said in a voice that was strained but resolute. “Fill us in on what happened at Bloody Bridge.”

Father Anne’s short dark hair was bloody on one side from a scalp wound and she had stitches from deep cuts on both arms. “We got to the battle site before dark,” she said, “and stayed low until the park closed. Caliel set wardings while Mrs. Teller and Niella had powders and charms to drive the Reapers toward where Archie would be waiting for them,” she nodded toward Donnelly.

As Father Anne talked, Mrs. Teller and Niella made their way around the room with Dr. Zeigler, helping to cleanse and bind up our injuries, adding a touch of magic to the medicine. Neither of the root workers looked injured, though they, too appeared spent from the energy invested in their magic.

“Archie warned the ghosts not to rise at sunset. Most of the ghosts heard him, but some either didn’t hear or didn’t understand.” Father Anne shook her head. “As soon as they rose, the Reapers were on them. And then we were on the Reapers. I think there’s something in the Reapers’ magic that forces the ghosts from cover, because the ones we saw were trying to get clear or struggling to stay out of the way. The Reapers shredded any ghosts they got close enough to touch.”

“My charms and wardings worked with the ones Mrs. Teller and Niella set, to steer the Reapers right to Colonel Donnelly,” Caliel added. “And just to be sure, I set out an offering to Ghede Nibo. He’s the patron Loa of war dead and watcher of cemeteries, and he’s got no patience for anything that harms the souls in his territory.”

“We herded the Reapers toward Archie, and let him use his necromancy to send the Reapers back where they came from,” Father Anne picked up the tale. “Meanwhile, Caliel and I did our best to get the ghosts of the battle dead to cross over. Most of them were ready to go. That meant there was nothing for the Reapers to draw energy from, so Archie made quick work of them.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘quick work’,” Donnelly protested from where he sat, not even opening his eyes. “Though I have to say that I appreciated the help from Ghede Nibo. I think it’s fair to say that the Reapers didn’t expect a necromancer or a Ghede.” He smiled tiredly. “Then we closed down that party and came over to bail you out.”

I knew his comment was a friendly jab at Sorren, but tonight that had been exactly what happened. Without the help Donnelly and the others had provided in the last part of the fight at the Angel Oak, I was pretty sure we would have lost several lives, even if we had been able to defeat Sariel.

Pounding on my door made us all jump. Chuck and Daniel both moved toward the entrance, ready for a fight. Maggie shooed them back and peered out the window. “It’s Anthony,” she said worriedly, and I nodded for her to open the door.

“Where’s Teag?” Anthony said, bursting into my front hall. “Something’s happened. I know it. Where is he?”

Before I could get to my feet to escort him in, Anthony glimpsed Teag lying on the couch. Teag’s eyes were closed, and Dr. Zeigler had hooked up an IV for fluids and a blood transfusion. Anthony’s eyes widened, and he stormed into the living room.

“My God! What the hell? He needs to be in the hospital!” Anthony looked ready to plow his way through us if need be to make that happen. Dr. Zeigler stepped in front of him, and Anthony stopped dead in his tracks.

“Let me through,” Anthony said levelly.

“He can’t go to the hospital.”

“Because you don’t want to answer questions from the police?” Anthony challenged.

“Because those wounds are supernatural,” Dr. Zeigler countered. “If he’s not within strong wardings, they’ll attract supernatural predators, and Teag’s too weak to fight them off.”

“Then ward the hospital.”

“Not possible,” Lucinda snapped. “Too big, too many people, too much going on. Lots worse things in a hospital besides germs. Things that feed on blood and death. Supernatural parasites, scavengers. He’s protected here.”

“Protected?” Anthony echoed. “Look at him! You call that protected?”

“That’s enough.” Sorren stepped forward. He did not raise his voice, and he did not use glamouring or compulsion. He didn’t need to. When a nearly six-hundred year old vampire wants your attention, he has the presence to make people listen.

“Teag is out of danger,” Sorren said. “And within these wards, he is safe. I will not allow you to put him at risk, and I think you want what is best for Teag…”

Sorren took the wind out of Anthony’s sails. Just like that, his bluster crumbled, and he looked worried and frightened enough to throw up. “I got home early and found a notarized power of attorney and Teag’s will on the kitchen table,” Anthony said unsteadily. “With a note that said things might go badly tonight. I went to the store but no one was there. I called the hospitals. Nothing. So I came here. And… oh my God,” he said again, as if seeing the rest of us for the first time.

We were all covered in blood, clothing shredded, some of us with stitches and others with the faint pink scars of magically-healed lacerations. Sorren looked much better than he had when we left the Angel Oak, but his wounds hadn’t fully healed yet, and he looked more like a casualty than a victor. “You look like you’ve been to war,” Anthony said quietly.

I met his gaze. “We have been. The creatures we pushed back tonight intended to destroy us and the whole city – and they probably wouldn’t have stopped there.”

“The whole city?” Anthony echoed, looking as if his world had come unmoored.

“Probably most of the South, like they did the last time, back in 1854,” Sorren replied. He was tired enough that he made no attempt to hide his fangs, and I saw awareness dawn on Anthony as he glimpsed the points of Sorren’s eye teeth.

“Supernatural vigilantes,” Anthony murmured. He glanced toward Chuck and Daniel, who definitely looked the part. His gaze hesitated on Mrs. Teller and Niella, and I guessed he recognized them from the market. Lucinda regarded him coolly, and Caliel had gone into the kitchen to make a small offering of rum and cigars to the Loas for their help.

“That’s as good a term as any,” Father Anne replied. Blood splattered her white clerical collar and the iron cross that hung from a chain around her neck. “We face down the demons in the dark, so the rest of you don’t have to.”

“The police –” Anthony started.

“The police don’t have the means to fight what we fight,” I replied. “They’d die. We do what we do because we’re specialists.”

“You mean, you have magic.” Anthony said. I nodded. He ran a hand back through his hair. “Shit,” he said, and I could practically watch the gears turn as he put it all together.

“Decide,” Sorren said. “I can make you forget everything you’ve seen here tonight and you can go about your business, but that forgetting will include Teag.”

Anthony pulled himself together and looked at Sorren levelly. “No! Hell, no! I may not really understand this, but even if it got me disbarred, if Teag’s here, I’m staying.”

Sorren stepped aside and let Anthony move past him to kneel next to the couch. He reached up and took Teag’s hand. “I guess if worst comes to worst, I can always be your
consigliere
,” Anthony said with a rueful half-smile as the tears rolled down his cheek.

“Nah… we’re the good guys, but thanks. If you can keep our secrets, we’ll keep yours,” Father Anne said. Donnelly pushed a glass of bourbon into Anthony’s hand.

“Buck up, old boy,” he said. “Any battle all your people live through is a mighty fine fight.”

Dr. Zeigler made a slow circle around the room once more, checking on all of us to assure himself we were patched up. He lingered over Teag, checking the IV lines and Teag’s vital signs, then looked to Anthony and Sorren. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on him. He’ll be fine for tonight.” He gave the rest of us a nod and let himself out. Zeigler’s a good guy. Not only does he make house calls, but he knows his way around supernatural injuries, and manages to keep everything off the authorities’ radar. I assume Sorren pays him a hefty retainer.

Archibald Donnelly picked up his pith helmet from the table. “He doesn’t need my help anymore,” Donnelly said with a nod toward Teag. “Bloody fine show we put on tonight,” he said, clapping Sorren on the shoulder. “Always happy to lend a hand.” He gave Sorren a broad wink. “And thanks for that painting. I’ll make sure it gets exactly the spot it deserves.”

Chuck and Daniel insisted on keeping watch on the porch, and I wasn’t going to stop them. The others made their goodbyes and straggled out, until only Sorren, Maggie, Teag, Anthony, and I were left.

“Is my room ready?” Sorren asked with a hint of dry humor. There’s an old, windowless root cellar in the basement where I keep a futon for him in case of emergencies.

I nodded. “Get some sleep. We’ll keep an eye on Teag.”

Maggie was managing without her crutches, but she had pushed herself enough that her limp was obvious. “You were a trooper,” I said. “Thank you.”

Maggie shrugged. “What are friends for? I’m glad everyone’s all right.” She leaned down to scratch Baxter’s ears. “But I’m dog tired.”

I jerked my head toward the guest bedroom. “Go ahead. I’m going to turn in soon.” Once Maggie headed down the hallway, I went to the linen closet and brought out a pillow and sleeping bag for Anthony.

“Figured you might as well be comfortable, since I didn’t think you’d leave the room,” I said.

Anthony took the bedding appreciatively. “Thanks, Cassidy. Sorry I was such an ass.”

“We threw a lot at you all at once,” I said. “And you were worried.” I shrugged, then winced as the movement hurt. More than anything, I just wanted to get cleaned up and fall into bed. Dr. Zeigler had given me some painkillers, and with Chuck and Daniel on guard duty, I thought I’d break down and take the pills to get a good night’s sleep.

Anthony glanced over at Teag, who was still sedated and sleeping. “Panicked is more like it. Thanks for taking care of him. You really think he’ll be okay?”

“You heard the doctor. He needs to rest, but he should be fine after all the stitches heal up,” I replied. “Now, I’ve got to get some sleep.” And with that, I tucked Baxter under my arm and headed for bed.

T
WO WEEKS LATER,
Teag, Father Anne, and I stood in Magnolia Cemetery. The sun was just setting over the marshland behind the graveyard. Technically, the memorial park was closed, but Father Anne and Sorren had pull with the administrator, so for once we didn’t have to worry about being caught and thrown out after hours.

Sorren joined us just as the sun dipped below the horizon. “They did a nice job with the headstone,” I said as he walked up.

The dark granite stone was unpretentious, but I knew a memorial of that size had cost plenty, as had the lot beneath the spreading branches of an old live oak. Mrs. Butler’s remains had never been recovered from the wreckage of Palmetto Meadows, so there was no body, and since she had no living relatives, no funeral was held. That’s why Sorren had asked us here, for a private memorial.

The stone read ‘Helen Wadsworth Butler’ with her birth and death dates, along with a carved heart, a dove, and the words ‘Forever remembered.’ Most of the time, that kind of epitaph is an overstatement, but for Sorren, it would be very true.

“Am I late?” Archibald Donnelly strode across the well-trimmed lawn, managing to avoid the gravestones though the cemetery was not lit for night visitors.

“Right on time, Archie,” Sorren said. Donnelly was wearing a well-tailored suit, though the cut looked about a century out of date. He came up to stand with us, and read the inscription.

“Can’t tell you how sorry I am about this, Sorren,” Donnelly said. “Do you have what I asked for?”

Sorren nodded and reached into a pocket, withdrawing a World War Two-vintage man’s watch. He handed it over to Donnelly, who took it carefully between both hands. Donnelly closed his eyes and began to murmur. A faint mist gathered near the headstone, glimmering with flecks of light. The mist thickened and in another moment, a figure stepped out of the fog.

This was Helen Butler as she had been seventy years ago, the beautiful, sassy girl from the old photograph. Sorren stepped toward her, and at least from where I stood, when he held out his hand to her, it looked as if she clasped his in return.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Sorren murmured. “I failed you.”

Her laughter carried on the night air. “Never. You were always there. You didn’t think I knew, but deep inside, I did. And at the end, you made me remember the old days. You gave those back to me – to us.”

“My friends will make sure your crossing is smooth,” Sorren said, his voice tight with emotion. The grief in his eyes was at odds with how young he appeared.
Even though he knew this day would come, I guess it never gets easier.

“I had a very good life, a long life,” Helen said, and reached out to touch Sorren’s cheek. “Not as long as yours, but long enough. I’m glad I had a chance to say good-bye before I left.”

Sorren wasn’t crying, but I was. Teag looked a little misty, too. In Father Anne’s business, it’s necessary to have a game face for doing funerals, but I could see in her eyes that she was touched.

Sorren leaned toward Helen’s apparition, and they shared one final kiss. Then she stepped back and waved good-bye. Donnelly murmured again, and the mist dissipated. Next to me, Father Anne began to read quietly from the
Book of Common Prayer
.