Page 19 of Ghouls Gone Wild

  Katherine tapped her fingernails against the side of her teacup. “Rigella only communicates with her direct descendants,” she said. “Only someone from her bloodline could have called her from the shadows.”

  My brow furrowed. “Hold on,” I said. “How could Rigella still have a bloodline? I thought her entire family was murdered.”

  Katherine sat down again and lifted her cup. “One sister escaped,” she said. “Though just barely. Legend says that the youngest and fairest of Rigella’s sisters, Isla, was ravaged by several villagers, then left for dead. But we know that the poor girl survived. She was found wandering about the forest by one of Rigella’s loyal friends and taken to their home, nursed back to health, only to die eight months later in childbirth. The identity of the child was kept a strict secret and the babe was adopted into the family, which allowed Rigella’s bloodline to continue.”

  “So who’s related to this child?” I asked gently. “I mean, you know so much about Rigella, Katherine, you must know all the members of that ancestry.”

  But I could sense immediately that Katherine wasn’t about to tell me, and I wondered whom she was protecting. “I’m sure I don’t know,” she said in a way that said there would be no further discussion about it.

  “Can you tell us about the brooms?” Heath said next. “M. J. and I were chased through the woods yesterday by three phantoms riding brooms. Exact replicas of the one you have on your porch.”

  That seemed to trouble our host. “Chased?” she said, and her eyes fixed on Heath’s bruised face and broken arm. “Did they do that?” she asked breathlessly.

  “They did,” I said. “And one of them very nearly took my life.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Katherine apologized. Again I felt she was being genuine, but I also knew there was more to her than what I could immediately discern. “Rigella came to me in a dream several months ago,” she confessed. “I hadn’t seen her in decades. Since right before I disbanded the coven.”

  “Hold on,” I said, putting my hand up in a stopping motion. “You dream about Rigella?”

  “Often,” she said. “She first appeared in a dream to me when I was only nineteen. She said that I was her sister reincarnated, and that I was to play a key role in her return. She was quite mesmerizing, you know. She had this presence, this almost regal quality, that I found quite irresistible.”

  “Oh, I know,” I agreed. “But tell me about this most recent dream.”

  “It wasn’t long after Cameron and I separated,” she said. “I’d been having a rough go of it, and I’d just moved in here, liking the privacy afforded to me by living on Joseph Hill’s property. Not many people would tolerate him after he became ill, and I knew no one would come round to stick their noses in my business if I lived here.”

  Katherine’s eyes were staring far off again, and I wondered where she went, when she seemed to pull herself from her thoughts and continued. “So, one night I was fast asleep, and Rigella appeared at the foot of my bed. She called me sister again, and asked a favor of me.”

  “What kind of favor?” Gopher asked, his camera capturing the entire conversation.

  “She asked if I would craft a series of brooms. She showed me exactly what they should look like, and I’ve always played with sculpture and such, so I found it quite challenging to try to reproduce them. It took some time and many prototypes to get them exactly right, but I think they’re quite beautiful really.”

  “They look like something out of Harry Potter,” Gil remarked.

  Katherine appeared to take that as a compliment. “Yes, they do, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, they’re great as long as they’re not bashing you over the head or chasing you through the woods,” I grumbled.

  Katherine blushed. “Right,” she said. “Sorry.”

  “So you made more than one broom?” Heath said, getting us back on track.

  Our host nodded. “I made seven,” she said. “And six were stolen from my porch a fortnight ago.”

  “A fortnight?” I said, several things striking me at once. “That’s two weeks, right?”

  “Aye,” she said.

  “What are you thinking?” Gil asked, knowing I was putting something together in my head.

  Instead of answering him, I looked at our producer. “Gopher,” I said, “when did Kim and John first come here to scout Edinburgh as a location?”

  Gopher lowered his camera. “Right around two weeks ago.”

  “Someone knew we were coming,” I said. Somehow we had triggered this series of events, I was sure of it. But with whom still remained a mystery.

  “All right,” I said, placing my now-empty teacup back on its saucer and getting up. “Thank you, Katherine, for the tea and cookies. We’ll leave you to continue our investigation. But if there’s anything else that you decide we might need to know, would you call us, please?” I quickly scribbled my new number onto a piece of paper from my purse and handed it to her.

  She hesitated ever so slightly before taking it, then smiled warmly. “Yes, of course.”

  We left her and headed outside to receive the last shock of the morning. When we stepped onto the porch, we all noticed that Katherine’s one remaining broom was gone.

  It took us a lot of leg power to catch up to Gilley, who, upon seeing that the broom was gone, had bolted right back to the van at breakneck speed. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever seen him run so fast. Especially not weighed down by several pounds of magnets and a fire extinguisher.

  “He can really run for a little guy,” Heath panted beside me as we took off after Gil.

  “He’s motivated,” I said, knowing Gilley was running on pure fear at this point. I’m not sure who’d eventually told him about our encounter with the brooms (although I suspected it was Gopher), but somewhere between the previous night and early that morning, he’d learned the truth about what had happened to me and Heath in the woods, and repeated the story back to me over breakfast, completely pissed that I’d tried to protect him from it. It’d been a relief when Heath had shown up to divert his attention.

  Gil made it to the van but was left to wait for us, because Gopher had the keys. “Gil,” I said when we reached him, and I had to double over to catch my breath. “You can’t run away from us like that!”

  Gilley was panting hard too. “Someone open the van!” he pleaded. “Come on, guys! Open the van!”

  I looked over my shoulder. Gopher was walking with no apparent urgency and didn’t seem particularly concerned that Gil was so rattled. I suspected he’d had enough of my partner’s theatrics.

  Heath, however, was more sensitive to Gilley’s nervous condition, and he trotted off to intercept Gopher and get the keys. He came back shortly and opened the door. Gil practically shoved him aside as he dived into the van, pushing his way to the back and curling up in a small ball, hugging his extinguisher. I knew immediately that I’d never get him out of the van to go with us to investigate the ruins of the castle. “Great,” I sighed. “That’s just great.”

  “What now?” Gopher said, finally coming up alongside me.

  “What time is it?” I asked, scratching my head as I struggled to think through how best to deal with Gilley’s meltdown.

  Gopher looked at his watch. “Ten minutes to noon.”

  I sighed tiredly. There was still a lot of daylight left, and I was already wiped out. Never a good sign. “Well, someone has to stay with Gil while we go back and search the castle.”

  Gopher looked from Heath to me, and back again. “I’m assuming I’m not included in that whole ‘we’ part.”

  “I need Heath,” I explained. “It was his grandfather who told us to go looking, after all.”

  Gopher didn’t look happy at the babysitting assignment. “Why don’t you stay with Gilley and I’ll go with Heath?”

  “Because Heath needs me,” I said, and was relieved when Heath backed me up with a vigorous nod.

  “I do,” he added. “I need M. J.”

  Something about the way he said that made my heart beat faster and the heat returned to my cheeks. Before either of them could notice, I turned away as if it were al
ready decided and began to trek back toward the castle. “We’ll be available by cell, Gopher,” I called as I walked away. “And if we’re not back in an hour, send the cavalry.”

  Heath caught up with me as I was making my way down the hill, and we walked in silence for a while, much to my relief. The castle was farther away than it appeared, and when I looked back well after we’d passed the cottage, I was surprised to find how small the house and guesthouse were. “It’s a ways, huh?” I asked casually. Heath didn’t answer me. He appeared to be lost in thought. “Yo, earth to Heath. Come in, please.”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry. What was that?”

  “You okay?”

  He smiled ruefully. “I was just wondering the same thing about you.”

  That took me by surprise. “I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Why?”

  Heath stopped and reached out with his good hand to stop me too. “What’s going on with you and me?”

  I was completely speechless. I had no idea how to reply, as I stood there with a thundering heart and scrambled thoughts. “Ah . . . um . . . wha?”

  Heath sighed and looked away. Oh great, now I’d pissed him off. “Why can’t you just say it?” he said.

  My brow furrowed. “Say what?”

  “Say that you don’t want me around anymore.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Oh, Lord, Heath! Is that what you think?”

  He turned back to me and there was real hurt in his eyes. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it, M. J.? For the past couple of days you walk away from me every time we’re alone, and I can’t get near you without you going all stiff and defensive.”

  I reached out and held the hand that had stopped me. “Honey,” I said gently, working to hold his eyes. “That isn’t it at all.”

  “Then what is it?” he asked. “I mean, why the cold shoulder? What’ve I done to deserve that?”

  I closed my eyes and leaned forward, resting my forehead on his chest. “It’s not you,” I whispered.

  “What?” Heath asked. He hadn’t heard me, but I was finding it really hard to speak at the moment. He lifted my chin with his fingertip and repeated, “What did you say?”

  “It’s me,” I told him. “I’m having a hard time being here, so far away from home.”

  “You miss Steven?” It was less a question and more an assumption.

  I took a deep breath and answered him honestly. “No, Heath. I don’t miss him. And that’s troubling, don’t you think?”

  Understanding dawned in Heath’s eyes and for a minute all we did was stare at each other. And then, very slowly, he lowered his lips to mine and kissed me. It wasn’t a deep and passionate kiss, more soft and incredibly gentle . . . and somehow perfect. That is, until a terrible moaning broke the stillness of the early afternoon, causing me to jump at least a foot.

  “What the freak was that?”

  “A kiss, and then a moan,” Heath said. I looked sideways at him and found him grinning.

  “How can you joke at a time like this?” I demanded as I stood there with a hand on my chest to still my thundering heart.

  “It beats running away like Gilley,” Heath replied with a shrug. “Come on, girl,” he added, reaching out a hand to me. “That sounded like a spook, which is right up our alley.”

  I steadied my breathing and took his hand. It felt warm and comforting and I refused to think about that when we had other things to tackle. “It came from the castle,” I said.

  “Yep,” Heath said, and we’d taken only two steps forward again when another moan echoed out of the crumbling ruins. “Female,” Heath whispered. “And in pain.”

  I had to agree. Whoever was making that terrible sound appeared to be in agony. “Injured?” I asked.

  “Maybe.”

  We crept forward again and I let go of Heath’s hand long enough to reach for a grenade. “Don’t want to get caught unprepared,” I said softly.

  Heath copied me. “Good thinking. We can get in over there.” He pointed to a large section of the main wall that had fallen inward.

  I followed him there, listening closely and feeling out the surrounding energy. My sixth sense was definitely picking up some spectral action, and I silently cursed myself for leaving the two electrostatic meters behind with Gopher and Gilley.

  We edged closer to the gaping hole in the side of the castle and were about to enter when I heard what sounded like footsteps clicking down stone stairs. I looked up and gasped, clutching Heath’s shoulder. “What?” he asked.

  I pointed straight up. There in the arched window of the central tower stood a male figure in period costume staring menacingly down at us.

  “Someone’s not happy to see us,” Heath remarked.

  “Yeah,” I said, feeling the intense wave of angry energy wafting down to us. “I’m picking up the same vibe.”

  As a gesture of goodwill I raised my arm and waved at the figure. His scowl deepened right before he vanished into thin air. “Not too friendly, was he?” Heath said, a hint of mirth in his voice.

  “Come on,” I said, still gripping the cap of the grenade tightly. “Let’s head in.”

  We had to help each other over the cascade of crumbling rocks into the main hall, which was dark and moody. I squinted in the gloom and turned around in a full circle. “Lots of spooks in here,” I whispered, feeling the hairs stand up all along my arms and the back of my neck.

  “I’m gettin’ the same thing. Should we record?” he asked, lifting the camera Gopher had given him.

  “Might be a good idea.”

  Heath handed me the grenade he’d been carrying in his good hand and tugged out the small camera from his tool belt. He had to work to get the viewfinder open, but eventually he had the camera poised and recording at shoulder level. “Where do you want to head first?” he asked.

  An acute keening wafted through the musty halls of the abandoned castle. “I’d start by trying to find the source of that,” I said.

  Heath grinned. “I think it came from down there.” He indicated with the camera down a hallway just off the main staircase.

  “After you,” I said with a slight bow.

  Heath began walking and I kept close on his heels, peering around him as we entered the gloomy space. “Do you have a flashlight?” he asked.

  I tugged the Maglite out of my belt and switched it on. It illuminated the hall fairly well, but sent spooky shadows all along the walls. We’d gone about ten paces when another keening cry reverberated down to us. We stopped in our tracks and listened. This time we could just make out the words, “Where’s me babe?”

  “Female again,” I whispered into Heath’s ear.

  “And she’s looking for a baby,” Heath said.

  “Let’s keep going,” I suggested.

  We kept walking and made it another ten paces when loud, clomping footsteps thumped right over our heads. We ignored those and continued forward toward where we’d heard the woman’s cry.

  We made it to the end of that hallway without incident, only to discover that the corridor split off into two separate directions, one to the right, and the other to the left. There was also a room directly in front of us with an ancient-looking wooden door, covered in dust and listing heavily on rusty hinges. “Which way?” I asked softly.

  Heath shrugged. “Not sure.”

  I was about to suggest we go left when that disembodied voice repeated, “Where? Where is me babe?”

  “Right,” Heath said, and turned right into the new hallway.

  I was following so close to him that my head could have rested on his shoulder. Normally, I’m not so easily spooked, but this entire trip had been so far out of my league that I was a little jumpy, and felt the need to stick really close to Heath.

  Okay, and I might have liked the way he smelled. Whatever. The point is, I felt the need to stick really close to him, and that was perhaps the cause of what happened next.

  My foot accidentally caught his shoe, and that made him trip. I tried to catch him, but his larger size and momentum caused us both to pitch forward and tumble into a small room, where we fell to the ground on top of each other. The grenades I’d been clutchin
g went spiraling out of my hands, as did the flashlight, but somehow, Heath managed to hold on to his camera. Still he sacrificed his bad arm to break his fall.

  He let out a terrible groan, sat up, and hunched over to grip his cast tightly while rocking back and forth in severe pain.

  “Ohmigod!” I gasped, trying to scoot around to help him. “I’m so sorry, Heath! I’m so, so sorry!”

  His eyes were pinched closed and his mouth was set firmly in a grimace while he fought through the pain. “It’s okay,” he said in a very hoarse whisper a few moments later. “Just . . . give . . . me . . . a minute.”

  I hovered right next to him silently cursing my own clumsiness and trying to think of what I could do for him. “Do you need me to call Gilley or Gopher?”

  Heath shook his head, but said nothing more. He just continued to keep his eyes tightly closed, hug his arm, and rock back and forth.

  And the longer he did that, the worse I felt. “I think I should go for help,” I said as the minutes ticked by. “I think you might have reinjured it.”

  Heath’s eyes opened then. “No,” he said, his eyes leaking tears. “Just zinged it pretty good.”

  “Do you have me babe?” asked a woman’s voice right behind me.

  I froze, and Heath’s eyes became huge as he focused on something over my shoulder.

  With great care I turned my head very, very slowly and nearly fell over when I found myself staring straight into the face I’d seen only in my dreams. The face of Rigella the witch.

  Chapter 12

  On my hands and feet I scuttled backward, away from the woman hovering near us. She seemed to notice my reaction, and her hand went to her heart as one tear leaked down her cheek. “Please!” she begged me. “Someone’s taken me babe away! You must tell me where!”

  My heart was hammering in my chest, and as discreetly as I could, I began to feel around for a grenade. In that moment it didn’t occur to me that I had several more tucked into leather loops around my waist; all I could think of were the two I’d dropped when Heath and I had fallen.