Hell's Bell

  Only to be woken at twelve thirty by the tolling of a church bell.

  Chapter Twelve

  I scrambled out of bed, ran through the living room, and hauled open the sliding door. My leg twinged a reminder to be careful, but I ignored it and went out. The bell had fallen silent, but an ominous hunger now filled the air.

  A hunger that ran with frustration.

  Which hopefully meant Ashworth’s magic was holding the spirit at bay, preventing it from doing its task.

  I ran back inside, locked the door, and then grabbed my phone. Aiden answered on the fifth ring.

  “Liz.” His voice was croaky with sleep. “Sorry I didn’t ring, but—”

  “The soul eater is on the move again. The church bell just tolled.”

  “Fuck.” Sheets rustled and bedsprings squeaked, and I once again fought images of him climbing out of bed naked. “I can be there in ten.”

  Meaning he was up at the O’Connor compound again rather than his own home. “Have you got Ashworth’s contact details?”

  I hadn’t thought to grab them myself, and maybe I needed to—especially if the soul eater eluded us yet again.

  “Yeah. I’ll ring him and get him to meet us at the café.”

  “Make sure you wear that agate charm I gave you.”

  “I haven’t taken the thing off.”

  “Good,” I said, and hung up.

  I continued on into my bedroom. Once I was dressed, I grabbed my agate charm and Aiden’s keys, and then clattered down to the reading room. I gathered four silk pouches, some ribbon to tie them up with, and a number of herbs—including angelica root, ivy, rowan, and blackberry—that had serious warding properties against evil spirits. Once I’d boosted those properties with a spell, I placed them in the silk pouches, and then charged each satchel with an incantation asking the Air, Earth, Water, and Fire to protect the souls of those who were wearing them.

  I placed one around my neck and tucked it out of sight under my shirt, then gathered my backpack—it still held the silver knife on which I’d placed the containment spell, and a couple of warding potions—and headed out of the room. I left a pouch on the counter for Belle, along with a note to tell her to put it on as soon as she got home, and then walked over to the front door.

  Aiden appeared a few minutes later, flowing from one form to another as he neared the café. He wasn’t even breathing heavily, despite the fact he must have run all the way here. “Have you got any idea of location?”

  I hesitated, reaching psychically for the foul caress that ran through the night. “It’s not close.”

  “Suggesting it’s not attacking Larissa.”

  “No.” I handed him a silk pouch. “Wear this.”

  His nostrils flared as he accepted it, and only the slightest hint of trepidation touched his expression. “What is it, besides being rather pungent?”

  “Oh, sorry—I forgot about your keener sense of smell.” I wrinkled my nose. “It’s a herbal mix that will help counter an attack by our dark spirit.”

  “Then I’ll put up with the smell.” He slipped it over his neck, tucked it under his shirt, and then glanced past me. “Here comes Ashworth. You ready to go?”

  “Yes.” I stepped back to grab my coat from the inside hook, and then slammed the door closed.

  “What makes you think the soul eater is on the move?” Ashworth said, as soon as he got within talking distance. “I haven’t felt anything along the energy lines.”

  I frowned. “You can’t feel the foul frustration in the air?”

  “No.” He fell into step beside me as Aiden led the way around to the building to the parking lot.

  “Then I suppose you didn’t hear that church bell tolling at twelve thirty, either?”

  “No, lassie, I damn well did not.” I could feel his gaze on me, but I studiously ignored it as Aiden opened the truck’s passenger door and ushered me inside. Ashworth climbed into the back seat, and then added, “But the fact you did is not a great sign.”

  Once I’d dumped my backpack at my feet and put on my belt, I twisted around to face him. “Why? We can’t be dealing with a Nachzehrer, because they supposedly only go after the souls of their kin.”

  His eyebrows rose. “And how would you know that if you’ve done no formal training?”

  “Because I can read,” I bit back. “And there is this thing called Google search, in case you weren’t aware.”

  “Yes, but you often have to search through mountains of chaff before you get to the wheat.”

  “Left or right,” Aiden said, as the truck reached the end of the parking area.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, studying the pull of evil. “Left. It’s not in the immediate area. It’s more distant than that.”

  “Meaning it could be after Lance.” He glanced briefly in the rearview mirror. “Will the shield you placed around his house hold the spirit out?”

  “Combined with the salting and the clove chain Elizabeth advised him to do, it certainly should,” Ashworth replied.

  “Speaking of which….” I handed him the final silk bag. “I made this for you, just in case.”

  Energy surged as he accepted it—his magic, testing and probing the protections around the bag and the contents within.

  “You didn’t find this spell on the Internet.”

  “You’d be surprised what you can uncover on the net if you sort through enough of the chaff.” I hesitated as the trace of evil shifted. “Left again at the next street, and continue on the highway.”

  Aiden obeyed, then flattened his foot and hit a switch. Blue light flashed and the howl of the siren bit through the air. “Let’s just hope we get there in time to prevent another murder.”

  Amen to that, I thought, and returned my attention to Ashworth. “So you think this spirit is a Nachzehrer?”

  “I think it’s likely to be a kindred spirit, so to speak. The Nachzehrer is but one regional legend, even if it is the main one that now appears in any search. The one thing they all have in common is the tolling of the church bell when it’s hunting.”

  “Is it actually a church bell?” Aiden asked.

  Ashworth shook his head. “It’s a spirit bell, and it’s said only those who can talk to the dead or who are about to get dead can hear its ring.”

  “Ah,” I said, “that explains it.”

  And then felt like slapping myself. I didn’t need Ashworth knowing anything about the true connection between Belle and me. Not when the realization that we were witch and familiar would lead him straight to my family’s doorstep.

  “Explains what?” Ashworth asked.

  “Why I can hear the bell.” I somehow kept my voice even. “It’s a by-product of my psychic powers.”

  “I wasn’t aware communing with spirits was one of your gifts.”

  Meaning he’d been checking up on us. “It’s not a strong part of them, which is the reason Belle does readings rather than me.”

  “Interesting.” There was something in his tone that suggested disbelief. But then, Anna hadn’t believed me, either. The RWA didn’t employ fools, even if they weren’t the most powerful witches Canberra had ever produced.

  “Left at the next street,” I said.

  Aiden frowned. “Meaning we’re not going to Lance’s.”

  Not when the road ahead led to a semirural housing development on the outskirts of Castle Rock rather than to Rayburn Springs. “Given the frustration, maybe he’s given up on Lance and gone after someone else.”

  “Unlikely,” Ashworth said. “If Lance was its target, it would have kept assaulting the protections until it either got through or dawn came. It would have no other choice.”

  “Why?” I said. “I thought soul eaters were able to run amok once they’d obeyed the bidding of whoever called them into being?”

  “They quite often do, but there’s something else going on here,” Ashworth said. “It’s unlikely that frustration you felt was the soul eater’s, as they simply don’t d
o emotion. And that means whoever bought it here was close enough at the time to redirect its actions.”

  “Has the containment barrier you raised around the ranger station in any way been tested?”

  “It hasn’t twitched. Larissa’s not the source of this deviation, nor, I believe, the one who called the soul eater into being.”

  I studied him for a second. “That being the case, do you believe the Ouija board was the soul eater’s gateway into this world?”

  “It’s highly unlikely. I think the dark spirit we encountered at Frankie’s was what they called into being, and our soul eater came from an entirely different source.”

  I frowned. “So the Ouija board was little more than a cover?”

  “One that was essentially used to fudge who their true targets were.”

  “If that’s true,” Aiden said, “then they’ve damn well succeeded.”

  “Perhaps,” Ashworth said, his tone noncommittal and his gaze on me. “And perhaps not.”

  “Left again at the next street,” I said, ignoring his unspoken demand to say what I knew.

  We bumped over an old train line, then did a sharp left onto a much smaller road, the truck skidding sideways for a few seconds before Aiden brought it under control.

  The beat of evil sharpened dramatically, and goose bumps crawled across my skin.

  We were close. So close.

  “Slow down. We’re almost there.”

  He switched off the lights and siren, and then slowed. We crawled along the narrow road, passing a number of homes, until the sense of evil became so strong it damn near stole my breath.

  “Stop,” Ashworth said, before I could. “It’s in the next house. And fuck, it’s strong.”

  “Can you deal with it?” Aiden stopped the truck and hauled on the hand brake.

  “Yes, but not without the proper preparations—”

  “Do whatever you need to, but do it quickly,” Aiden cut in. “I don’t need to be dealing with another body right now.”

  “I can work magic, Ranger, not miracles,” Ashworth bit back. “The more powerful the damn spell needed, the longer it will take.”

  “The only problem with that,” I said, as the pulse of evil reached a crescendo, “is that we haven’t got long.”

  I grabbed my backpack, scrambled out of the truck, and raced for the house.

  “Liz, wait,” Aiden said.

  I didn’t, because I couldn’t. Not if we wanted any hope of saving the soul eater’s target. But even as I neared the front door, a scream broke the night’s silence. A scream that was long, fear-filled, and then abruptly cut off. At the same time, the crescendo of evil peaked and then fell away. I cursed and reached for the door handle, only to discover it was locked.

  “Move.” Aiden’s voice was cold. Angry. Not at me as much as the thing that was no longer inside.

  He raised a booted foot and kicked the door open. It slammed back hard, and plaster flew as the handle buried into the wall. The hallway beyond was shadowed and carpeted, and the air smelled faintly of cinnamon and toast.

  “Stay—”

  “Don’t even fucking think that, Aiden.” My voice was a harsh whisper. “I may not be much of a witch, but if this thing attacks, I’m far better equipped to deal with it than you.”

  He hesitated, and then nodded. “But stay behind me, just in case we’re dealing with another man mountain.”

  That I was more than happy to do. He stepped cautiously inside, his boots leaving imprints on the lush carpet. I unzipped the pack, pulled out the knife, and then followed, making sure I kept the silver blade well away from him.

  Even though he didn’t say anything, he was obviously aware of its presence, given the way his back twitched. But then, he’d only recently recovered from being stabbed with silver, and as a result, was probably even more sensitive now to its presence than most wolves.

  We crept past two doorways, but didn’t stop. Though evil had all but fled, the last few remnants of its presence pulsed in the room at the far end of the hall—a room that—if the tiles were anything to go by—was a kitchen area.

  Aiden drew his gun as we neared the door. He motioned me to one side, and then stopped on the other, his nostrils flaring as he drew in the heavily scented air. Whether he discovered anything, I couldn’t say. He simply motioned that he’d go through first, started a three-two-one countdown, and then went in fast and low.

  I followed—and discovered death.

  A man was sitting at the kitchen table, a piece of toast still gripped in one hand, and a dark pool of coffee from an upturned mug surrounding the other. His death had been swift, but horrendous—something that was evident from not only his cut-off scream, but also his expression. Horror, fear, and agony had all been etched into his face during his dying moments.

  “The soul eater?” Aiden asked, voice clipped.

  “It’s not in the house.” I tucked the knife safely away. “But this man wasn’t present when they used the Ouija board, and that means Ashworth is right—this really isn’t about Larissa or her revenge.”

  He glanced at me sharply. “But you do think it’s about revenge?”

  I hesitated. “You don’t call forth such a powerful dark spirit unless your intent is either revenge or murder in the most painful way possible.”

  He frowned. “Given we’re dealing with a soul eater, I would have thought they were one and the same.”

  “Only sometimes,” Ashworth said, as he stepped through the rear glass sliding door. “Remember, the souls of the first victims were taken while they’d been at rest. It’s only the last couple who have suffered, and I daresay that’s due to the fact you two keep walking in on it.”

  “And yet we’re no damn closer to either catching this thing or uncovering the person responsible for its presence here.”

  “Its actions here suggest otherwise—there was no attempt at seduction this time.”

  “If you’ve got any ideas, Ashworth, damn well spit them out. We don’t have time to fuck around.”

  Amusement played around the older man’s lips, though his expression remained cold. “Then perhaps you had best ask your girlfriend to stop doing so.”

  “Me?” I all but squeaked. “What in the hell do you think I’m holding back?”

  “Did you not go back to Marlinda’s apartment today?” he asked.

  Aiden swung around to face me. “Why would you do that? And how did you even get in?”

  “Maelle gave me the keys. I went to the club to question her about Marlinda, because if I’m right and the unknown Janice is the key to what’s happening, then—given she’s supposedly a friend of Marlinda’s—that was a logical place to search for information about her.”

  “We already did a thorough search. There was absolutely no indication that Marlinda knew anyone by the name of Janice. We didn’t even find a photo matching the description we’ve gotten from Larissa.” Aiden’s voice ran with annoyance. He certainly didn’t like the unintended implication that he or his people hadn’t done their job properly.

  “Which is exactly the same as I found,” I replied evenly. “I did, however, discover her old phone in her car. It was as dead as a doornail, but once charged, we might find some photos of the elusive Janice on it.”

  “And how did you get to her car, given we’ve impounded it?”

  “You impounded the one leased by Maelle. Marlinda owned a wagon, which was kept in the parking lot down the road from her apartment.”

  “Then it’s either unregistered or listed in another state, because it certainly didn’t come up when we did a search.” The annoyance in his expression, if anything, had increased. “And when, exactly, were you going to tell me all this?”

  “I was intending to earlier tonight, when you were supposed to drop by.” I thrust my hands on my hips and met his glare with one of my own. “It’s not like I’m doing any of this for fun—”

  “Enough, both of you.” Ashworth’s voice was curt. “We have a dea
d man to look after and a soul eater to worry about. Bickering isn’t helping.”

  Aiden took a deep breath, and the annoyance disappeared from his expression. But not, unfortunately, from his aura. “Did you find anything useful on the phone?”

  “No, because it was dead, as I said. I’ve got it on charge back at the café.”

  “Then bring it to the station in the morning,” he said. “We can scroll through the photographs and see if any match the description we have.”

  “Fine.” My gaze went to the stranger. “Do you know who he is?”

  “James Morrison,” Ashworth said. When we both glanced at him sharply, he raised an eyebrow and pointed to the stack of bills near the phone. “Or so it says on those.”

  “Wonder what his connection to the elusive Janice is?” And if his name would be on the list that Roger was supposed to be sending me.

  “That I can’t tell you.” Aiden pulled a pair of silicone gloves out of his back pocket. “Is there any chance of that thing coming back here?”

  “It’s doubtful, considering it’s completed its mission,” Ashworth said. “But I’ll hang around, just in case.”

  Aiden nodded and glanced at me. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

  In other words, go home. I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

  He frowned. “You can’t walk back from here—”

  “It’s only a couple of kilometers. I’ll be fine, Aiden.”

  “Liz,” he said, in a voice that suggested he would brook no arguments. “Aside from the fact it’s the middle of the night, someone has shot at you twice now. Be sensible.”

  He was, rather annoyingly, right. I rubbed a hand across my eyes and then said, “I will—”

  “I meant right here and now.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “In this particular case—and knowing how stubborn you are—no, I don’t.”

  I scowled at him, but he simply raised an eyebrow. I dug out my phone and called a cab, only to be told that the narrow street wasn’t listed on their system. I arranged to meet them near the old rail line, and then met Aiden’s gaze. “Okay?”