“I command you, by the Blade of Supay, by the Lord of the Underworld, by the Gates of Death through which you have passed and through which I have reached to control you, come forth and subdue the devil-wraith, consign it to this vessel, then return to the crystal and await my orders.” Wilbur’s voice echoed through the room, sounding as if it had been amplified through a loudspeaker. He rose up, his eyes burning sun-gold, and thrust the crystal into the air.
A blur of fog rushed out of the end of the spike and dove into the room, heading straight for the tentacle that was aimed at breaking through our protective circle. Morio and Camille held tight, and I quivered, ready to pounce if the spirit broke free.
The devil-wraith roared, and the tentacle vanished, but with a dub-dub, the house began to reverberate as if it had a heart of its own that was beating. A sloshing sound startled me—it was coming our way from the kitchen.
“Hold fast,” Wilbur said to us. “Don’t step out of this circle or I can’t guarantee you won’t be hurt in the crossfire.”
Crossfire? But then, I saw what he meant. The spirit had formed into a vaporous body, and it was holding near the archway. The sloshing sound grew louder and the reverberations rocked the walls. Another moment, and some thing dragged its way into the living room behind us. It was huge, looking like a cross between a tree stump, a blob of goo, and a giant octopus. It filled the room, squeezing in near the ceiling, and I had the distinct feeling we were seeing only a portion of it. How the hell was this thing going to fit into that tombstone?
But as I was trying to puzzle out the difficulty of shoving something so huge into a tiny piece of stone, the spirit Wilbur had control over aimed himself and went shooting toward the devil-wraith like an arrow. With a shriek, he pierced the devil-wraith’s skin and drove himself deep, penetrating like a spear into a whale. The devil-wraith twisted, trying to throw him off, but the spirit had managed some form of hold and they were thrashing like wild dogs in a fight.
Wilbur held out the tombstone and closed his eyes. Morio and Camille were bracing the circle, which felt like it was beginning to waver. Another few minutes and we’d be in deep trouble. I looked around for anything I could do in panther form to help. But I couldn’t leave the circle, and if I did and Camille saw, she’d be focused on helping me and that itself would disrupt the magic. I had to sit tight, which was the hardest thing I’d done in a long while.
The violet flame protecting us was beginning to wisp away as the spirit and the devil-wraith clashed. It was thinning, the magic wearing down. Camille and Morio were straining to keep what was left intact. After what we’d all been through tonight, I couldn’t imagine how exhausted they were.
Without warning, the floor shifted drastically under our feet, rolling to the left. Camille and Morio went down and the circle vanished. Wilbur managed to prop himself against a chair. I roared—my sensors on overload. That had been an earthquake. I could tell—I knew what earthquakes felt like, and that wasn’t magic or anything else but the Earth suddenly deciding to party.
The devil-wraith lurched forward toward us, but the spirit did something—it was hard to tell in the dim glow of the creature—and there was a sudden rush as the devil-wraith was sucked into the tombstone. It vanished within seconds into the marble slab, and the spirit howled in protest as Wilbur held up the crystal, but it returned to the spike and we were plunged into darkness.
As the light vanished, the floor shook again, this time a lot lighter, and then a thin beam flickered as Morio pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. I shifted back to my two-footed form, and we all sat there, silent, in the aftermath of the battle.
* * *
The lights worked just fine—they had been shut off by the devil-wraith, but when we flipped the switch, they came on. We were all sitting around the kitchen table. Ivana had come to procure her prizes, and she had taken Wilbur with her to release the spirit in her garden so she could once again capture it. Just what she was going to do with the devil-wraith, I didn’t really want to know.
Shade was still asleep down at Iris’s. We hadn’t wanted to move him. I didn’t even want to think about the ramifications of what he was going to be facing till tomorrow. We were all worn out. The six hours of sleep I’d gotten before the devil-wraith decided to make an appearance had taken the edge off, but we all needed more.
Hanna put on the kettle for some herbal tea, and we plundered the refrigerator for sandwich fixings. The living room looked like it had been pulverized, as had several other areas of the house. The walls were all intact, but the windows were blown out, and we were going to need to repaint after this. Slime had dried on the walls, leaving ugly green trails behind it.
“If something else shows up, can we just tell it to go fuck itself? I’m done for the night.” Camille groaned, resting her chin on her elbows on the table.
“I think we’re done for a week. Where the hell did that come from? And how did it get through our wards?” Menolly and Nerissa were sitting together, and it looked like whatever fight they’d been having was done for the moment. They were holding hands and snuggling by the window.
“I don’t think it actually came onto the land the way most of our enemies usually do.” I frowned, pushing a cookie around on a plate in front of me. “I think that whatever ghost brought it summoned it from inside the house.”
“But the wards—they would warn . . . wait . . .” Menolly turned to Camille. “Do the wards work against ghosts?”
Camille shook her head. “No, we haven’t managed to come up with all-inclusive set of wards yet. And creating too many different kinds of wards in the same area? Not a good idea. It can make all of them go defunct.”
“I’m running on what . . . six hours sleep? And I know the rest of you are, too. Why don’t we keep watches during the night, just to—”
Camille’s phone rang. She answered. “Yes? . . . What happened? . . . Well, where are you? . . . Right, we’ll be there, just be careful until we get there.” She hung up and I groaned.
“Don’t tell me. Somebody needs us. Right now. Right away. Without question.” With a sigh, I gulped down the cookie and grabbed a few more.
She nodded. “It was Daniel. There’s a ghost in his condo, and he’s hiding out in the hallway.”
Great. Another ghost. “We might as well all move into the Greenbelt Park District for all the spiritual spookscapades going on. Okay, let’s roll. Who’s driving? And who are we leaving here to watch over the place?”
As everybody started to talk at once, I pulled on my shoes and, not for the first time, wished I could just go up, crawl into bed next to Shade, and sleep for a gazillion years.
* * *
Daniel had alerted the doorman this time. We were ushered right in, albeit with raised eyebrows at the size of our party. We had left Smoky at home, along with Trillian and Vanzir. Trillian was down at Iris’s house, along with Shade, Nerissa, Hanna, and Maggie. Vanzir and Smoky were watching over our house. Menolly stayed home, too. With two and a half hours till sunrise—which this time of year was a little before 8:00 A.M.—she didn’t want to take the chance of being caught. So that left Morio, Camille, Roz, and me to help out Daniel. Chase decided to come with us. He had wired himself up on coffee and was like a bee hyped up on steroids at this point.
Daniel was standing outside his condo, leaning against the wall. He brightened up when he saw us. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s the middle of the night but you would not believe what’s been going on.”
“Dude, you wouldn’t say that if you’d had the night we have had.” I gave him a blurry, squint-eyed look and his gaze swept over us.
“Come to think of it, you all do look pretty toasted.”
“We were nearly ghost food ourselves. Apparently, there’s a special on hauntings tonight—maybe a two-for-one.” I pointed to his door. “So fill us in on why you’re standing in the middle of your com
plex hallway at five thirty in the morning?”
Daniel thumbed over his shoulder. “Ghost. In my apartment. One of the Vikings. I got nervous and decided I’d rather wait out here than go back in there.” He was in his pajamas and robe, but I knew by the way his hand was in his pocket that he had a gun with him.
“That’s not going to work against a ghost, Daniel. You might as well realize that right now.” I nodded to his hand.
He slowly withdrew the gun, looked at it, and shrugged, tucking it away again. “I never go anywhere without bringing a friend along, Delilah. I learned that the hard way. So . . . do you . . . we go back in?” A catch in his voice made it clear that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road. I’ll take a Viking ghost over what we fought earlier any day.” I motioned for Daniel to step away from the door and, once he was clear, opened it. Even though he’d said it was just the Vikings, we couldn’t take any chances.
Inside, the apartment looked unscathed. Part of me grumbled, wishing that sometime we’d get the tidy ghosts. But sure enough, there in the corner of the living room, stood three of the warriors. They were standing at attention, looking as unkempt and grumpy as before. And this time, we didn’t have the sword to make them behave.
I gave a nod to the others. “Looks like it’s just the boys of summer . . . oh mighty joy.”
“Hey guys, Thor called. He wants his posse back,” Camille muttered, but she didn’t say it quite loud enough for the ghosts to hear.
We edged our way in, but they didn’t move. No, they just stood there, staring at us. Daniel hemmed and hawed his way in back of us. He was really out of his element, and it showed.
As we approached the ghosts, Chase suddenly stiffened, then collapsed next to me. I was close enough so that I was able to catch him before he fully keeled over, and I lowered him to the floor, kneeling beside him.
“Camille, call the—” I was about to bark her an order to call the FH-CSI, when Chase sat up again, so fast that I worried he might pull a muscle.
“Return the sword.” The words echoed out of his mouth, as if being piped through an intercom filled with static. Only the voice wasn’t his, but a low, raspy one.
I glanced up at Camille. “What the hell?”
“He’s being used as a conduit. Look.” She nodded toward the ghosts.
One of them was standing there, his eyes closed and his hand out, pointing toward Chase. Yep, that would be our Chatty Cathy, I wagered.
Morio looked at the ghost and asked, “Who are you? We don’t know what’s going on. Help us understand.”
“If you do not return the sword, we cannot guard it, and the Blood Reign will begin again. He will rise and scour the land.”
It sounded odd to hear words like that coming out of Chase’s mouth, but Odd was our middle name by now. Then something hit me. I turned to the ghosts. “You guard against the Blood Reign beginning again?”
The ghost nodded very slowly. Chase spoke again. “We keep the Blood Reign in check. If Einar the Bloody is loosed now, his powers will be hard to stop. We are the Guardians. The sword must stay in possession of the family. They are the only ones immune to its call.”
I turned to the others. “They’re not here to guard Einar from us. They’re here to keep him locked up. They’re his jailors, not his elite squad.”
Camille paled. “They must have thought you intended to free him, Daniel. His family seems to be under protection from the sword’s call.” She scrambled forward. The ghosts shifted position. “Can you lead us to the sword? It was stolen. Daniel was charmed into taking it by the real thief.”
“We cannot find it. Someone hides it from our eyes. Find it, or we will not rest, and neither will any of you.” The latter sounded like a warning.
I cleared my throat. “Did you send the devil-wraith to our house? We know a ghost had to summon it.”
There was a moment’s pause. The ghost channeling through Chase looked at his companions. They all looked rather comically confused, except this wasn’t funny and was getting less amusing by the moment.
“We did not. But Einar has the ability. If he has been freed and has found a host, then you have a dangerous and powerful enemy on your hand. He will know you are seeking him—and he will do whatever he can to destroy all of you.”
With that, they faded from sight, and Chase dropped back, hitting his head on the floor. He let out a garbled “Ouch” as I helped him sit up again, this time slower. Blinking, he shook his head, then stopped and winced.
“That was . . . what the hell was that?” He looked confused and a little bit pissed.
“That was you, learning what it’s like to play medium. You were channeling one of the ghosts. Do you remember what went on?” With Morio on one side and me on the other, we carefully helped Chase up and over to the sofa. Daniel headed into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and some ibuprofen.
Chase nodded. “Yeah, every word that was coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t control my jaw muscles.” He rubbed his jaw, looking nonplussed. “So . . . that was weird. But damn, it answers some questions, at least.”
“Yeah, it does, but it also makes everything more problematic. We have to find that sword. Whoever stole it is out to unleash Einar the Bloody and set him loose. He was bad enough while he was alive; I dread to think what he’s going to be like now that he’s dead.” I frowned, trying to puzzle out the missing pieces, like who had stolen the sword, and why they wanted to free the Viking chieftain.
“You said you’d fill me in on everything. I think right now would be a good idea. Start at the beginning. Now.” Chase was starting to look grumpy.
I glanced over at Daniel. We couldn’t keep it from Chase—he was as affected as we were because he was living on our land, and had inadvertently been brought into the mess. I’d forgotten we hadn’t told him, and on the ride over, he had listened to us in silence. Chase was good at blending into the background. It helped him a lot in terms of being a cop.
“Daniel, we have to tell him.” I let out a sigh. “We tried to keep him out of it, but with that thing showing up in our house tonight—Chase lives out there with us. He and his baby girl live on our land. There’s no way we can put him in danger by leaving him out of the loop.”
“I’ve spent years covering my tracks.” Daniel stared at his glass. “I’m the best at what I do. I can’t believe how I fucked up.”
“You didn’t. You were caught in a trap—someone bewitched you.” I thought quickly. Maybe Chase didn’t have to know everything. “Okay, Chase . . . you know what an NTK basis means, right?”
He nodded. “All too well.”
“Daniel belonged to the ISA. That we can tell you. But now . . . he’s a private contractor. It’s not safe to give you any info beyond what we’re about to tell you. Will you promise not to look into it officially?” I wasn’t really lying, but I didn’t want to put Chase into a bad situation any more than I wanted to screw over Daniel.
But at the very mention of the ISA, Chase paled. “Got it. I know more than I want to about that agency as it is. Just tell me what you can. I don’t want to be on their watch list any more than you do.”
Breathing a sigh of relief—the ISA had a pretty rough reputation—I nodded. “Daniel . . . let me handle this?”
Daniel gave me a keen look, then nodded. “Go ahead. I trust you.”
“Daniel was charmed and ended up stealing a sword because of the enchantment. The sword belongs to a tech guru in Seattle—it’s a family heirloom. As the ghosts said, it needs to be reunited with the owner. That’s what we’re trying to do. We took it down to the Wayfarer to hide, but you saw what happened there. We had it in the safe room—and now it’s gone. Lucias is lucky he wasn’t killed. Long story short, we need to find the sword and return it to Leif Engberg, but Daniel’s name—and his part in th
is—cannot leave this room.”
I hated having to sidestep legalities, but if Chase knew that he had one of the top-tier art thieves in the world sitting in front of him, he’d be obligated to arrest Daniel. And right now that could lead to a host of bad things happening.
Chase nodded. “So we have a rogue sword—that you were keeping in the safe room at the Wayfarer. Mind telling me more about the sword, if you can?”
“That we can tell you. It belonged to a Viking chieftain during the late eight hundreds or so, in Norway. He was known as Einar den Blodige. Einar the Bloody. Long story short, his own people beheaded him, and he was cursed—he was trapped in the sword.”
Camille took over. “Apparently, his family must protect the sword or his spirit runs the chance of escaping. We believe whoever wanted it decided to use Daniel’s . . . position . . . to get hold of it. We know they were watching us when we took it—we found evidence of a magical bug. They stole it from the Wayfarer. Given what you found out about Kendell, we believe that the person who is behind this theft is Aslo Veir. I think it’s safe to say that Aslo is working for someone who knows magic, given the use of Compelling Powder. And chances are that someone is a necromancer, because of the spell used to summon the devil-wraith. A necromancer must control the ghost who summons the wraith.”
Chase glanced over at Daniel, then back to me. “That’s a lot to take in but . . . okay, we already have the APB out on Aslo. We know this is a dangerous situation. Aslo is volatile and we know he’s not above killing.”
I let out a long breath, leaning forward. “We have a lot of questions to answer. First, who is controlling Aslo? Are they partners, or is Aslo just his tool? And why does the unknown necromancer want to free Einar? We can’t walk into this situation unarmed.”