One Grave at a Time by Jeaniene Frost
Bones took some sage out of his pockets and lit it. I did the same, careful not to let any of the burnt edges fall to the ground. There were dry, crinkled leaves everywhere, and starting a fire would be a great way to draw a lot of unwanted attention to us.
We came out of the hedges and started walking toward the nearest intersection as though we were a normal couple out for a stroll. From the mutters I picked up on, the people closest to the spot where we’d landed were wondering about the noise and the momentary vibration they’d felt, but thankfully hadn’t connected those things with two people dropping out of the sky. With how fast we’d descended, we would have been nothing more than a brief streak even to someone who’d been looking right at that spot.
“That’s Cook Street,” Bones said low, nodding at the street sign in front of us. “Sixth should be coming up . . .”
His voice trailed off, tension ringing from his aura like invisible fire alarms. I followed the direction of his stare, dread creeping up my spine.
A tunic-clad man floated in the middle of the street, white hair unmoving in the breeze. Cars drove right through him, the drivers unaware that they’d just come in contact with one of history’s most prolific serial killers. And even though he was too far away for me to see his eyes, I knew the Inquisitor was staring right at us.
Our arrival in the neighborhood hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone.
“Bones,” I said softly, “I’ll draw him off. You go get her, then meet up with me.”
His lips barely moved, but I could still hear his hushed reply. “I’m not leaving you.”
We only had seconds before Kramer attacked. Already the ghost was starting toward us, and I knew it wasn’t to shake our hands, and say, “Howdy, neighbors!”
“You’re a man; not tempting enough for him,” I whispered rapidly. “But you’re stronger and faster than I am, so you’re that woman’s best chance if she’s still alive. Now quit arguing and go.”
So saying, I handed my sage to Bones and ran right toward Kramer, making sure to wave my arms so he’d see I didn’t carry any of that ghostly flamethrower anymore. Behind me, Bones ground out a curse, but I didn’t turn around. I was right, and he knew it. He might not like it, but that didn’t change the reality.
Now, to get Kramer to come after me instead of protecting his final target. Unless he’d killed her already, what happened with Francine should have shown him that he couldn’t stop us from taking her. I hoped he decided to unleash some of his frustration over that on me instead of spending those last few moments with her.
“Hey, Casper the Ugly Ghost!” I called out when Kramer seemed more focused on what Bones was doing than on my closing in on him. “Bet I can whack that stubbly jaw before you can catch me!”
That turned the heads of the other people on the sidewalk, but my attention was all for the hazy figure in the monkish tunic. I was now close enough to see Kramer’s nostrils flare at my reminding him of the two punches I’d landed during the brief time when he’d been solid. He glanced behind me again, though, as if still deciding whom to attack. Take the bait! I urged him, then dove to cover the last several feet between us.
“Here comes bitch slap number three!” I announced, swinging my hand through his jaw.
He wasn’t solid, so my fist flew through harmlessly, but either the gesture or the words made up his mind. Kramer spat out a curse and rounded on me, his own arm shooting out.
I ducked, but not fast enough. Pain burst through the side of my head, the energy he managed to harness feeling even stronger than a punch from solid flesh would have. I caught myself before barreling into a store’s front window, crashing into the wall instead. At least that only chipped off some plaster instead of shattering glass. Then I spun around to face the ghost.
“That was pathetic,” I snapped. “I don’t even need sage to fight you. You’re pussy enough all on your own.”
His face twisted with rage, and a torrent of German erupted from his mouth. I took that as my signal to run for it, darting through the throngs of people going about their business on this lovely autumn evening.
I had made it as far an outdoor sports bar when it felt like a wrecking ball crashed into my back. It sent me flying forward, completely off-balance. I managed to turn enough to avoid the family with the small children and instead crashed into a table with several young men crouched over beer pitchers and chicken wings. The table broke under my impact, foamy liquid, glasses, and orange-smeared chicken parts splattering over me. The four men who’d been seated around it stared down at me in disbelief, two of them still holding chicken in their hands.
“What’s your problem, lady?” one of them gasped.
They couldn’t see that a ghost had blasted me into them, but did they really think I’d just swan dived into their table out of boredom? From my vantage point on the floor, I could see Kramer approaching, his form disappearing every time he had to poltergeist through someone in his way. I glanced back at the quartet of young men, desperately trying to think of something that would make them and the other patrons run away before the ghost got here.
“I’m on the rag and desperate for attention,” I improvised, remembering Graham’s derisive thoughts from that day at my old house. “So if you want to live, get the hell away from me!”
With that, I shoved the remains of the table at them, doing it slow enough so they could avoid it. They leapt out of its path and started backing away. Thankfully, they weren’t the only ones. The outdoor seating area quickly began to clear of people.
“Crazy bitch,” I heard, but my attention was all for the ghost. He was only a dozen feet away now, his mouth opening in a snarl. I needed to get him clear of these people before he decided to start killing some of them just for fun.
“Come and get me, limp dick!” I yelled, vaulting over the wall. A less-crowded section of shops was on the other side, parked cars lining the streets but their owners mostly elsewhere. I didn’t look back to see if Kramer had taken the bait but continued my stream of insults while running flat out. “I know that whole bit about witches depriving men of their virile members was just your excuse for not being able to get it up unless you could—”
Something smashed into my back, sending an explosion of pain through me. It also threw me off-balance again. I ended up skidding down the sidewalk face-first, my velocity carrying me several feet before whatever he’d done to my back healed enough for me to stagger to my feet. As soon as I did, an invisible sledgehammer landed in my gut, knocking me back to my knees.
Someone screamed. I couldn’t see who because my vision was blurry and filled with red. I spat out blood, sickening crunching noises sounding with that slight movement of my jaw. My face burned like it had been set on fire, but I got up again, braced for the blow I knew would come. Get away from the people, away from the people, I repeated to myself. No matter what he did to me, I’d heal. They wouldn’t.
I made it a few feet, barely seeing where I was going because though I could feel my face mending, I still had blood in my eyes. Then I heard an ominous metallic boom and white-hot pain exploded all through my body. Lights flashed in my vision, and my ears rang with the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. Now I really couldn’t see, but the smell of gasoline and the tremendous weight pressing on me let me diagnose what had just happened.
Motherfucking ghost upended a car on me!
I didn’t have time to be stunned at how much stronger the proximity to Halloween had made Kramer because the acrid scent warned me that I needed to move now. The ghost was probably busy trying to score a lighter or make lots of sparks to ignite all that flammable liquid contained in the fuel tank on top of me. I’d had a car explode next to me once before, and it had almost killed me. Being trapped underneath one if it went off? I’d be all the way dead, no doubt about it.
I tensed every muscle in my body, ignoring the flares of pain that were multiple broken bones trying to knit back together, and heaved up with all of my stren
Several blinks later, and I could see enough to be dismayed at the cluster of people gathered nearby, each of them displaying varying degrees of shock. I didn’t see any phones held up capturing footage, though, so I had to be grateful for that. Then I caught sight of someone else staring at me. Kramer floated in the empty space along the road where the car had been parked, his green gaze locked onto me with unrelenting intensity.
I didn’t know why he wasn’t zooming in for another of those bone-cracking energy shots, but damned if I’d just stand here and pose for him until he got around to it. I whirled, pointing myself in the least-populated direction of the street, and started to run. More bones crunched, and my skin felt like I’d been staked on an anthill before I finished healing, but I didn’t stop running, waiting for the next blast of pain that would signal Kramer’s catching up with me.
I heard a whoosh, then something hard pressed into my gut. My instant defensive reaction stilled when I recognized the power flooding around me, crackling the air with hidden currents. The ground left my feet as I was yanked upward, one strong arm around my midsection, the other locked around someone screaming in a high-pitched, feminine voice.
That scream was the sweetest music I’d heard because it meant Bones had gotten to Kramer’s last intended victim in time to save her.
Thirty-one
Once we’d gone high and far enough away that we knew Kramer couldn’t have followed, Bones texted Spade and told him to meet us at War Eagle Park where I-29 was closest to the Missouri River. It had been over an hour since we left Kramer raging on the ground, but we still wouldn’t risk taking the woman directly to Spade’s and giving the ghost even the smallest chance to track her there through me.
Her name was Sarah, and she hadn’t settled down much since Bones took her away from her house, not that I blamed her. If that flight hadn’t been enough to scare her senseless, it only took five minutes talking to her to realize that Kramer had tormented Sarah to the very edge of sanity. With Francine and Lisa out of his reach, he’d clearly made up for lost time with her, just as I’d feared he would. Sarah’s thoughts were a mixture of white noise, terror, and repetitions of the same crap Kramer had spouted to me about not suffering witches to live and his being unstoppable. Bones and I told her she could trust us, making sure our eyes were lit up when we said it, but she seemed past the point of being calmed by our gazes.
Some people, for reasons of genetic anomaly, trauma, or staunch willpower, needed to be bitten before vampire mind control would work, but I couldn’t bring myself to bite her on top of everything else. She didn’t try to run, so maybe some of what we told her was getting through even though the poor woman jumped at every noise, gaze darting about as if expecting Kramer to pop up and continue his abuse. I could only hope that a few days of being around Francine and Lisa would help bring Sarah back from what seemed to be a near mental breakdown.
Of course, what would really help Sarah and the other women would be for us to manage to stuff their tormentor into that stone-and-mineral trap. Then they could take all the time they needed to heal from the emotional damage he’d inflicted on them. Anger burned through me. Most murderers I’d encountered, while still vile to the bone, only sought to destroy people’s bodies, but that wasn’t enough for Kramer. He had to crush their minds, hearts, and spirits, too.
Spade descended from the night’s canvass, and Sarah reared back, the scent of fear exploding out of her pores. Guess seeing another person drop out of the sky was too much for her right now. I held on to her, murmuring that he was a friend, and she’d be safe with him. Only when I told her that he’d take her to Francine and Lisa did she calm down enough to stop trying to pull away. I’d told her about the other two women Kramer had set his sights on, and how they were safe. Words were nice, but seeing them for herself would do more to prove to her badly wounded psyche that Kramer wasn’t the all-powerful punisher he’d made himself out to be than any reassurances I could give her.
Bones walked over to his friend with a last pitying glance her way, taking Spade off to the side to warn him about her fragile mental state, I assumed. After a minute of hushed conversation, they came back. The other vampire held out a bundle to her that I gratefully recognized was a coat. Bones and I left so fast to retrieve her, we hadn’t thought to grab our own coats, let alone bring an extra one for her.
“Sarah, this is my very good mate, Spade,” Bones said, calling him by his chosen name instead of the one he normally used. “He’ll take excellent care of you.”
She took the coat but then edged closer to me. “He? Aren’t you coming, too?”
Her dark topaz gaze was pleading, fragmented thoughts revealing that she didn’t want to go without me. It might be because I was another woman, and that made me feel safer to her, or because Spade looked rather imposing with his great height and black coat surrounding him. Our proximity to the river even had his shoulder-length hair blowing dramatically around his face, adding to the effect, but in addition to being trustworthy, Spade also had a deep chivalrous streak.
“I can’t come now, but I’ll see you soon,” I promised her, exchanging a glance with Bones. Real soon, considering we’d deliver the trap to Spade’s in the next couple days, then wait for my inner signal to lead Kramer right to us.
Wait until Sarah found that out. Then she’d be extra, extra nervous.
Or maybe we’d be lucky, and she’d know who the accomplice was. Two out of three women had fit the same pattern before Kramer started attacking them, and I was betting Sarah wouldn’t be the exception.
“Sarah, you had a cat recently, didn’t you?” I asked her. “One who died? Do you happen to know how it happened, or who did it?”
Her thoughts seized with that question, making it hard to pick out the coherent ones from their less stable, scattered counterparts. I caught words like “hung” and “break in,” though, confirming my belief. Francine’s and Lisa’s cats had been hung, too, their little bodies left on display. Step one in the beginning of Kramer’s reign of torment.
“Do you know who did it?” I pressed.
She shook her head, getting so visibly upset that Bones nudged me. “Let her get settled first, Kitten,” he murmured. “She’ll be better able to answer questions with Denise and the others.”
He was right. This was too soon, and it was a long shot that she’d know who killed her cat, anyway. I gave Sarah a quick hug goodbye, telling her again that this would all be over soon, and she’d be safe.
God, let that be true, I prayed.
Spade held out his arm to Sarah as if he were offering to escort her to a ball. “Please come with me,” he said.
She looked at me. I nodded, forcing a smile. “He’ll take you to the others, and I’ll see you soon.”
With obvious reluctance, she took Spade’s arm. Spade gave a last nod to me and Bones, then swooped Sarah up and winged her away with all the flair of those old Dracula movies that the real Vlad Tepesh hated. A scream trailed after them, growing fainter, until Sarah’s voice was lost to the darkness.
I turned to Bones with a slight smile. “Beam me up, Scotty.”
His snort was soft with amusement. “You don’t need me for that. You can beam yourself now.”
“I know,” I said, sliding my arms around him. “But I’d rather fly like this.”
His arms circled me, strong, hard, and infinitely blissful. “So would I, Kitten.”
Much later, I heard the distinct rustle of boards on the porch that said someone was out there. Had to be Kramer. I stayed seated on the family room floor with my back propped against the wall and debated ignoring him. If I moved, Bones might wake up, and he’d just fallen asleep. It was my turn to make sure all the sage stayed lit while everyone else slept.
If left up to Bones, he’d split up the watches between himself and Ian, but that wouldn’t be fair. My mother couldn’t help her weariness as soon as dawn struck, but I could stay awake as well as the men could. All of us slept in the family room, sharing the four mattresses that we’d brought in from the bedrooms. It might not be comfortable—and it sure as hell wasn’t romantic—but it was safer. If by chance the watchperson did fall asleep and Kramer managed to sneak past the sage and get in, he wouldn’t be able to single out the most vulnerable of us without waking all the rest. Not with the way we slept, clustered around each other.
Another creak of the boards sounded outside, but this time, it was followed by a whisper I couldn’t make out. I frowned. That was unusual for Kramer. He normally liked to bash about while stringing curses together as loud as he could squawk. The ghost knew when we slept, too, so he frequently stopped by at dawn for maximum pain in the ass effect. But whispers? It made me curious enough to get up. It might be Fabian or Elisabeth, unable to venture inside because of the sage and trying to be considerate by not waking everyone with a loud greeting.
I crept toward the door, keeping as quiet as I could. No need for everyone to wake up and investigate the odd whisper. Bones stirred, but his eyes remained closed. My mother was dead to the world, Tyler’s snores continued uninterrupted, and Ian didn’t even twitch. I couldn’t help shaking my head as I looked at him. Ian slept like a baby every morning—well, a baby who continually kept one hand down his pants. Guess his misdeeds didn’t bother his conscience enough to cost him a moment of shut-eye.