Flight From Death by Yasmine Galenorn
“Not surprising, given the difference in attitudes here. It can be harsh and cruel, but your world, Little Sister? Is a cold and harsh one. Come, girl, introduce me to your master.” Chai held out his arm, and I grinned as I looped my own through it.
“Alex isn’t my master. He’s my boss.”
“Same thing, isn’t it?”
“No, now you’re mixing up your semantics again.” We playfully argued as we headed down the stairs. I was surprised that I hadn’t seen any paranormal activity since we went to sleep, but then, djinns were powerful, and having Chai around could only help matters.
As we approached the kitchen, Alex and Patrick were already up. They’d risen at sunset, and now I smelled waffles and bacon on the table. My stomach rumbled. As I entered the room, Chai hanging off my arm, they both stared at me like I’d walked in attached to an elephant.
“So, who’s your . . . friend?” Alex blinked and slowly stood.
“Alex, this is Chai. Chai’s a djinn and a longtime friend of mine. He popped over to see how I was. He was going to stay at my house and watch my fish, but I guess he decided to see what I was up to here. Chai, this is my supervisor—the owner of the company. Alex Radcliffe. And this is his friend and our client, Patrick Strand.”
I held my breath and the men sized each other up. But then, after a round of shaking hands and greetings, both vampires settled back into what they were doing. Chai gingerly sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, making sure he was out of the way. I sat beside him and gratefully accepted the plate that Patrick handed me. It was overflowing with food—apparently Patrick had noticed my appetite. But then again, most Supes had higher metabolisms than humans and bigger appetites.
Ralph entered the kitchen, looking chipper and ready for breakfast. He pushed his glasses back on his nose—they were forever sliding down—and slid into a chair on the opposite side of the table. “I’m starving.”
Patrick dished him up a plate. “Here you go. We were just getting to know Shimmer’s friend.” He poured more batter on the waffle iron. “Chai, I didn’t expect another guest, but I’ll fix you a waffle right now, if you like.”
“I would appreciate that greatly, Master Strand.” Chai gave him a courteous nod.
“We have news from today. We can talk and eat at the same time.” I glanced over at Patrick.
“Do tell.” He added more bacon to the skillet, turned it on medium, then moved over to sit at the table with the rest of us.
“First off, did you know that the Bucklands are of Gypsy blood? And they have—or rather had—an aunt who was apparently very good at putting curses on people. And things. And apparently, she put a curse on the house after Terrance Buckland’s mother found out what Nathan did.”
That produced a response, from both Alex and Patrick.
“Um, no. I didn’t know any of that.” Patrick slowly leaned back in his chair. “That really doesn’t bode well for me, does it?”
“No, but more so, it doesn’t bode well for the house. By the way, we talked to Tonya Harris. She’s really quite nice. She’s going to come over around eight thirty in order to scope out things. At least we can tell her what we think the magical chanting we heard on the EVP was. Ten to one it was Anna Lee Buckland, working her magic.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Well, that’s a kettle of fish, isn’t it? You find out anything else?”
“Yes, we did, actually.” Ralph told him about the soldiers who had died on this land, and then we filled him in about the Jenson family who had vanished while homesteading in this spot. “So we have several possibilities for what might be happening in your house. Here’s the information we dug up at the Historical League.” He laid out the pages we had printed off, and Alex and Patrick scanned over them.
I happened to glance up from my breakfast to see something move behind Patrick. A drawer opened and a meat fork—one of the large forks used with a carving knife—rose into the air. I slowly set my own fork down, staring at it, but before I could think to say a word, it sailed through the air toward Patrick’s back.
“Halt!” Chai was on his feet and around Patrick in a blur of movement. And then he was standing there with the meat fork stuck in his hand. Another second and it would have driven itself right through Patrick’s heart, from the back. Which would have been the end of Patrick.
“Oh man, you almost bought the farm.” Ralph inched his chair back, looking around nervously.
Patrick very slowly turned around. Chai was still standing beside him, the meat fork embedded in his palm. He didn’t look very happy, either, but the djinn very calmly plucked it out and the wound healed within seconds. He handed Patrick the fork.
“I think this was meant for you.”
“Fuck. Just . . . fuck me now.” Patrick held out the fork, staring at the prongs. “That would have . . .”
“Put an end to you. Yes.” Alex motioned to Ralph. “Get the equipment. Let’s see if whoever this is, is still around.”
“I wonder if the curse plays into this? Is this Nathan, driven mad by Anna Lee’s magic? Or is it something bigger and badder who was summoned in by it?” I finished off my breakfast. No use letting good food go to waste, and I was hungry.
Ralph returned a moment later with the camera, the EVP, and the TRU units. I wiped my mouth and accepted the temperature gauge. As I held it out, the temperature read a chilly fifty-two. I wasn’t sure what it had been when we started breakfast, but it had been a lot warmer than this.
Ralph flicked the switch, turning on the camera. He scanned the room, and I peeked over his shoulder.
“If anybody’s there, please talk to us.” Alex held up the EVP. “We need to know who you are and what you want.”
Chai shook his head like he thought we were crazy, but he just backed away and let us work. Patrick inched over to his side, probably so spooked that any port in the storm seemed safer than standing out in the open as a ghostly William Tell target.
I glanced at my watch. Almost half past seven. Tonya wouldn’t be here for another sixty minutes. A blip on the TRU caught my eye, and I watched as the temperature began to plummet again.
“The temperature just dropped another five degrees in the past ten seconds.” I scanned the room. Every hair was standing up on the back of my neck, and my arms were puckering with goose bumps.
Ralph eased over to the drawer where the fork had come from. He paused, lowering the camera. “Ectoplasm—it’s dripping off the drawer. I need to take a sample because it might have the energy signature of whatever is doing this.” He motioned to Patrick. “Get me a container, please.”
Reluctantly, Patrick darted to a cupboard, where he retrieved a plastic container and handed it to Ralph before hurrying back to Chai’s side. Ralph scraped some of the ooze into the round bowl and fitted the lid on it and went back to scanning the room with the camera.
“Talk to us. Tell us what you want.” Alex raised his voice.
The temperature dropped another two degrees. Before I could say anything, the lights began to cycle on and off, the light switch rapidly flicking up and down, and my stomach lurched as the air grew thick, like it did right before a big thunderstorm. I stepped back, suddenly afraid.
“There’s something in the room with us . . .” Suddenly wanting to be anywhere but there, I whirled, looking to run back into the living room. But as I did, the lights plunged off and stayed off, and a clawlike hand gripped my shoulder. The next thing I knew, it was moving up my neck for my throat.
CHAPTER 9
“Something’s got me!” I tried to shake it off, twisting around so I could see what was facing me, but the darkness was unnatural—pitch black so that even I couldn’t see what had hold of me. I reached out, trying to push off whoever it was. The hand worked its way near my throat but I was strong, and I shoved, hard. Though my hands made contact with my attacker, another second and the form vanished.
“Shimmer? Where are you?” A brilliant light flashed and Chai was standing ther
I leaned against the door, shaking. Whatever had hold of me had meant business—there was no doubt about that. Those claws had been aimed for my jugular, and I knew it. Chai hurried over to me before the others could react.
“Little Sister, are you all right?” He gazed down at me with those eyes that swirled in sea foam green. He wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders and brushed back my hair.
I nodded as Alex joined us. “Shimmer, girl, are you hurt?” He glanced up at Chai, a worried look on his face. “She okay? Thanks, mate, for the light. We needed it, for sure.”
“No problem.” Chai gave him a long look and, with a subtle move, stepped back, allowing Alex to shift closer to me. “But you have serious trouble on your hands.”
I wanted to ask Chai to help, to go find whatever this thing had been, but I didn’t dare. It was one thing asking him to watch the fish—that wasn’t a wish or a favor per se. But for something like this? We’d be stepping into a very gray area that could go very wrong. And it wouldn’t be Chai’s fault if it did. He was bound to his nature, as much as any of us was. Ralph had to shift into Were form under the full moon. Alex craved blood and needed it to survive. I had to have contact with the water. Chai—Chai was a djinn, and as such, he did what djinns do.
Ralph hurried over to the table. “I got something on the camera. Come look.”
We gathered around him, and he set up his laptop so the camera fed directly to the screen. That way we could all see. As we watched, the video showed where Ralph had panned down to the drawer, capturing a shot of the ectoplasm dripping in streams. And then the camera moved up, and I was in the shot, the lights flickered on the recording, and the room was plunged into darkness. But because the camera picked up all spectrums, we were visible in the inky blackness, and so was a short, stocky figure that looked vaguely male. I could see the talonlike nails as he lunged for me. The memory sent a shiver down my back. The figure didn’t look human, and as he swiped for my throat, a pale green glow shot out of his eyes. The next moment, my own voice rang out, and then Chai’s light illuminated the room. The figure who had been holding me swung around, staring at the djinn, then vanished.
“Did that look like Nathan to you?” I turned to Patrick.
He frowned. “Not in the least. That . . . whatever that was, it wasn’t human and Nathan most definitely was. To be honest, it’s hard to imagine Nate haunting this place. He was a ruthless businessman, yes, but I can honestly tell you I don’t think he ever killed anybody. And that . . . creature . . . looked capable of killing.” He hung his head. “I have to get rid of it.”
“There’s more.” Alex set down the EVP and pressed Playback.
“Stop him, please stop him! Mommy!” The voice of a little girl, sounding terrified, rang out.
“Peter, Peter—he’s taking the children!” This time, a woman.
“Fire in the—no!” A man’s voice layered in.
“Mama, are you there?” Another man’s voice. “I tried so hard, Mama. I hope I made you proud. Everything’s getting dark . . .”
“Why did you lock me up here? What did I do? I don’t understand, Papa. Papa! Don’t—don’t . . . please . . .” Another woman, but different than the first.
And then, over the top of all of them—laughter. Dark, ugly, laughter. “You’re all mine.”
The recording ended.
We stared at the machine. “There are a lot of them here. I think . . . most are ghosts, but the last—that was the creature that attacked you, Shimmer. I know it.” Ralph frowned at the recorder.
“This can’t all be part of Anna Lee’s curse. Some of those spirits have been around for decades—over a hundred years, if our guess is right. Long before she was even alive.” I frowned.
“Layers of hauntings building on one another? Maybe playing off each other?” Alex mused. “How long till Tonya gets here?” he glanced at the clock.
“It’s eight, so half an hour.”
Alex crooked his finger at Ralph. “Let’s not waste time. Let’s have a look at that ectoplasm.”
Ralph set the container on the table and removed the lid. Inside, a pile of gel was puddled at the bottom of the dish. There were about three tablespoons of it, and it was translucent with the faintest hint of green to it. I leaned close. “It looks like viro-mortis slime.”
None of the three of the men knew what I was talking about, but Chai did. He picked up the dish and sniffed it. “Looks like it, yes, but it’s not the same. This smells like the forest, like mold and mildew and decay.” As he held the bowl, the gel pulled back from the bottom of the dish, oozing up onto the side. He frowned. “I think it doesn’t like me.”
I poked at it but didn’t touch it. “Chai, can you touch it? If it shies away from your actual touch, then there’s something about you that makes the big spirit—creature—whatever attacked me—recoil. It vanished when you started your light show.”
“Eww . . .” Ralph grimaced.
But Chai obligingly reached in to touch it. The moment his hand neared the gel, it spread out, trying to avoid his fingers. “Looks like whatever it is has no use for me. My feelings are hurt.” He snorted.
“I wish to hell I could ask you to go after this, but I can’t.” I stared at him, feeling boxed into a corner. Djinn rules were warped and wicked.
“I know, Little Sister. I know. But I tell you this: I want to see this creature taken down. So, if I have an opportunity, I’ll seize it.” Chai frowned. “Whatever it was, it ran from my light. And my light isn’t the same light that healers or exorcists generally use. My light comes from the elemental plane of Fire.”
We cleaned up from our meal and decided to move operations into the living room, where there were fewer pointy things to go flying around the room. Though the ghost could likely send a knife from the kitchen out here, as well. As we settled around the coffee table, Patrick leaned forward, frowning.
“I had no idea that any of this was going to happen. When I first moved in last year, I noticed a few oddities, but it never really hit me that something was wrong until the renovations started.”
“Maybe we should wait until Tonya gets here. She might want to hear all of this.” I tried to relax, but the house was making it impossible. I was so ready to go home. We’d been here less than twenty-four hours but the trip was already wearing on me. It made me wonder if I was cut out for this kind of work.
I glanced up to find Alex watching me. He gestured for me to follow him out onto the porch. When we were alone, he leaned against the railing and motioned for me to sit on the porch swing. The wind was blowing up a gale, and the rain sleeted down, pounding the sidewalks.
“How are you holding up?” Alex shook his hair back. It fell to the side in a tousled mess, and I resisted the impulse to reach over and brush it back into place.
Shrugging, I hunched forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Okay, I guess. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before, Alex. I’m not sure . . . what I’m supposed to be doing. Am I doing a good job? Is there something you want me to do that I haven’t thought of?”
He grinned, a suggestive smile crossing his face. “Oh, I think you’ve thought of it already.”
I started to blush but then snorted, lightly kicking my foot at him. “Dork. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do, and Shimmer, you’re doing just fine. This is the first big case you’ve been on. Things bumble along in some cases—in others, they run smoothly. We’re walking into unfamiliar territory here and now I’m truly not talking about you and me. I may be a vampire, but that doesn’t mean I’ve had much to do with the spirit world. Ralph? He’s a Were. They tend to steer clear of magic. So we have to just take it one step at a time.”
I joined him by the railing, folding my arms across my chest as I nervously glanced from side to side. ?
“I think that’s true of the whole peninsula here.” He gave me a long look. “What are you feeling? Premonitions?”
I tried to sort out the onslaught of sensations that were creeping around in the recesses of my mind, then shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can feel it, down to the core. Port Townsend is magical, but it’s a dark magic that has taken root. I wouldn’t go walking around after sunset. Especially not if you’re alone.” A gust of wind sprang up and rushed past us, and my teeth chattered. “The temperature’s falling. Winter storm is coming in. The water tells me so.”
And it was telling me so. There was a storm brewing out in the strait, and it would be on the town before morning. I could feel the rocking waves in my bones. They roiled and churned as they fed through the channel. The wind drove them along, and somewhere, out in the open ocean, I could hear Winter singing her battle song.
Alex slid his arm around me. “I’m here, love. I’m here.”
I turned to him, once again filled with questions. “I think . . . we need an understanding. This time I am talking about us. I like you, Alex, as much as you drive me crazy. I tried to hold myself back because of Glenda, but she’s no longer a factor. Or . . . is she? Is there any chance you’ll be getting back together with her? I don’t want to be your out-of-town rebound fling. I’m not asking for any long-term plans, but I’ve had so much upheaval in my life that if we start something—or take what we have already started further—I want to know that I’m not just a stand-in.”