[Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws (17 page)

"Where are you going to summon this thing?" I asked. "And how do you feel about her summoning it under your roof?" I directed my second question at Lenorre.

"If she is confident she can control it, it might be worth the try. If we do not do anything, a killer goes free. Is not the risk worth taking?"

"It is if we can prove these things and actually bring justice to the victims and their families."

Zaphara said, "I will summon the creature in the woods nearby, where I am stronger and in my element. I will require your aid, Kassandra."

"Terrific," I said. "What will I need to do?"

"Combine your power with mine."

"You do realize I don't know how the fuck to do that, right?"

She placed a hand on my shoulder and her smile was dark and somewhat unnerving. It reminded me of Rupert, who was very adept at the cold and hard
I won't hesitate to kill you
look. The only difference was, Zaphara's seemed to add
and I'll probably enjoy it
.

I hated to admit it, but it gave me the serious heebies. In that moment, I wondered if maybe being her friend was in my best interest.

CHAPTER 
twenty

aphara left to begin working on rewriting the spell she thought had been used to summon the lesser fey. Rosalin was curled up on the couch beside me, her knees tucked close to her chest, head resting on her bent arm. She appeared to be asleep, or at least halfway there. Lenorre remained seated in her chair, quietly watching Rosalin.

My cell phone vibrated from its perch on the couch's arm. I felt Rosalin stir beside me before I retrieved it, and I walked into the bathroom for the illusion of privacy.

Arthur's number decorated the screen of my caller ID.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice low and soft. It was probably the first little bit of sleep Rosalin had gotten. "Has there been another murder?" I asked, feeling something tighten uncomfortably at the pit of my stomach.

"Attempted," Arthur said. "You wanna come down to the station?"

"Attempted," I repeated the word, thinking furiously. "There's a witness?"

"Yep."

"Why don't you sound happy about that?"

"Because I don't know if I believe her."

I didn't ask any more questions. I didn't need to. If Arthur didn't believe her, chances were she might've had a real run in with what we were suspecting.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." I hung up the phone and emerged from the room. Rosalin was sitting up and though she was awake, she looked completely and utterly exhausted.

Lenorre stood and said, "I'll retrieve our coats."

There was something in Rosalin's expression that reminded me of a child, a vulnerability etched within the very contours of her features when she asked, "May I go?"

I didn't know where Carver and Claire had run off to and wasn't even sure they were still here at Lenorre's. Zaphara, I suspected, would be busy for some hours trying to recreate the spell to suit whatever her needs were. I hadn't seen Trevor or Isabella, and would've hesitated to leave Rosalin with them anyhow. Trevor wasn't dominant enough to make her feel safe, I knew that. Eris was nowhere in the vicinity, and even if she had been, Rosalin had shown last night that she wasn't exactly comfortable with her. When it came down to it, perhaps Lenorre and I were the only two capable of making her feel safe.

I didn't want to take that away from her, and so my reply, when it came was, "As long as you stay with Lenorre and don't get in the way."

"I won't," she said. "I promise."

Lenorre came back wearing an ankle length coat of ash gray darker than the color of her eyes. The coat had white fur lining at the wrists and hood. The back cinched artistically like the bodice of a corset. I brushed the fur with the tips of my fingers and knew it was real. If I had to guess, I would've said rabbit. Maybe the fur should have unnerved me a little, being pagan and a shape-shifter, but oddly, it didn't. The coat didn't look recent and for some reason I sensed it was something she'd had for a very long time, though it was in extraordinary condition.

I took my coat from her and shrugged it on over my black sweater and jeans. I didn't bother putting on the shoulder holster that still hung on the bathroom door. I doubted I'd need it in a room full of cops.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Let me grab my coat," Rosalin said.

Lenorre and I waited downstairs while Rosalin went to get her coat. In truth, we would've been fine without them because all three of us were less sensitive to the cold than humans, but people tend to give you a funny look when they're freezing their asses off and you're not. So for the sake of appearances and partly for comfort, we donned them and left, without question the best dressed people at the police station.

*

Arthur opened the door to the interrogation room and ushered me inside. Astrid Meadows, and yes, that was her real name, was sitting in a chair closest to the door. There were two chairs on the opposite side of the table. I introduced myself, taking a seat as Arthur took his beside me.

Astrid's wrinkled eyes narrowed, not in malice, but as if she were sizing me up. "A preternatural investigator and a what?" she asked.

"Paranormal huntress," I said. "I work with the police on cases like this."

She turned to Arthur. "You called in a ghost chaser on me?"

I laughed, which brought her attention back to me. "Ms. Meadows, preternatural covers a broad spectrum, as does paranormal."

An impish twinkle sparkled in her gaze. Her brown hair was a mess of unruly curls that ended just above her shoulders. Given her age and the hint of gray at her roots, I knew she dyed it.

"And you think it has anything to do with this?"

Was she toying with me? I leaned back in my seat, folded my arms on the table, and said, "Why don't you tell me what happened to you and we'll go from there."

Something about the expression she gave me made me want to fidget and I didn't understand why. I didn't lower my shields so much as part them, like peeking out from behind the blinds of my soul. I didn't have a lot experience getting a taste for the energy of others, but something about Astrid intrigued me, lured me to check.

Her hand twitched slightly. I closed my eyes, focusing on drawing a breath in through my nose, tasting it at the back of my mouth. The smell of sage clung to her skin and hair, to the lavender shirt she wore. I reached out, metaphysically, feeling the edge of her shields like hard stone. There was a break in the stone, a crack. No, not a crack or a break, a small window opened in the line of her shields and I felt her energy brush mine like a gentle breeze caressing my skin. I smelled violets.

"Atta girl," the crone said, "a bit more gently, next time. Think less like a gust and more like a breeze. You're less likely to be noticed that way."

It was unnerving, the breeze of her energy moving unthreateningly but exploratively against mine. I wondered, since she had lowered her shields, should I lower mine more? Could I trust her?

I didn't realize I'd directed the thought at her until I heard her wizened voice crackling through my mind.

You can.

The smell of violets was thick, and though Arthur didn't seem to smell them, he asked, "What's going on? What is she talking about, Kass?"

I didn't answer him. I did as she had done, lowering my shields as little as I could for her to get a reciprocal taste of my energy.

Her energy came rushing in and the smell was almost a choking thing. I gasped, standing and grabbing onto the corner of the table. The chair I'd been sitting in was flung back against the wall. Arthur stood up.

"Kass? What the hell is happening?" he asked.

Astrid hobbled frantically around the table. I forced myself to try to breathe past that cloying smell, counting my breaths. She touched my arm and I heard her voice as if from a distance.

"Close the door," she was saying, her voice near frantic. "Focus and close the door, girl! You're a standing beacon!"

Was she mad? I could hear the breaths I was drawing and they were harsh and ragged. Something was going horribly wrong.

What the hell had she done to me?

A growl built in my chest, built and beat against my ribs as if the sound itself would drive away the threat. I closed my eyes and saw the wolf, hackles raised, teeth nearly bared.

Arthur said, "Shit," and scrambled away from the table.

I sank teeth into my bottom lip, stifling the growl as much as I could. Astrid hadn't removed her hand from my arm.

"Stop touching me," I said.

"I'm the only thing shielding you right now, girl! There's no way in Hades's realm I'm going to stop touching you."

Her energy was like a heavy wet cloak thrown over mine, stifling, suffocating, crushing.

The only thing I wanted to do was shake it off.

The fluorescent light above the table flickered.

I heard Arthur's gun slide free of the holster at his hip.

"What the hell is going on?" His voice was higher than it should have been, his words more hurried this time.

Astrid kept her hand on my arm, her energy blanketed over mine, but looked up at the flickering light and said, "It's coming."

The light burst and the room was swallowed by a darkness even I could not see in. Tiny shards of glass rained down upon the table. I heard Arthur click the safety off his gun.

"Arthur! Do not shoot!" I said. "You can't shoot this!"

"What the hell is it?" From the sound of his voice, I could tell he had pressed himself into the corner of the interrogation room.

Astrid answered, "Detective, you're about to come face to face with what I presume is your first demon."

"Is she kidding me?"

"'Fraid not," I said and turned, jerking my arm away from Astrid's touch.

As soon as I broke her hold, my shields fell away. The energy building in the room hit me so hard I went to my knees.

The wolf wanted out, but this was not her fight. Astrid was mumbling something in a language I didn't understand. A white light sprang to life in the cups of her hands. Arthur turned his gun on her and I rushed him, knocking the gun out of his hands and to the floor.

I stood in front of him.

"What's she doing, Kass?"

"She's trying to save our asses, Arthur. Don't fucking point the gun at her."

"What the hell is that?"

Unfortunately, I was short enough that Arthur was able to look over my shoulder. Astrid was facing the table, the surface of which rippled like a pool of water that a stone had dropped in.

There were sounds outside the interrogation room, sounds of someone trying to get in the door to no avail. I ignored it, taking a step forward and asking, "What can I do?"

"You can summon your magic," Astrid said. "Call to the blood in your veins and your Goddess."

I heard Arthur behind me ask, "Say what?"

I didn't question how Astrid knew what I was. Her gray eyes met mine and this time, they weren't gray. They were foggy like soft, shimmering crystals.

I knew in that moment, the strange language, the energy clasped between her palms-she was fey.

Darkness seemed to ooze from the surface of the table, spiraling in the air like a building vortex of energy.

"It's trying to manifest?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What in the name of all the Gods is it using to manifest?"

"It grows stronger, child. Lower your shields!"

I hesitated. I didn't know what to do if I lowered my shields all the way. The only thing that I'd dealt with that was even remotely close to a psychic attack was what Zaphara had once done to me. If I lowered my shields, I made myself vulnerable and defenseless.

Astrid's voice grew more urgent. "Trust your instincts!"

I didn't lower my shields; I shut my eyes and threw my shields down. When I opened my eyes, I saw the clawed hand that reached out of the black mist.

Astrid took the light she held, but instead of throwing it into the heart of the dark matter, she placed her hands flat on the table.

The light set the entire table aglow. Flickers of static electricity shot through the darkness like lightning. A creature screamed the same high-pitched scream I remembered in my dream.

Every sense within me heightened. Arthur's fear sent his pulse hammering loud enough it felt as though I could feel it against my skin.

I focused on Astrid, and with my shields down, I realized what she was doing.

Her parchment-like skin took on a luminous quality, the curls of her hair swaying in the breeze of power she called, strands clinging to her wrinkled cheeks. She summoned light, her hands flat on the table, her eyes narrowed as she gazed at the still growing darkness.

What magnified the light? For some reason, I remembered gazing out the window at Lenorre's, watching the sunlight dancing across the water of the pool outside.

Water.

I kept that vision in my mind, but larger, greater, a sea of rocking waves, violent waves, waves that did not hesitate to overturn ships or to slam themselves against rocks.

There was no energy in my hands that I could see, but my skin tingled with the rush of magic.

I put my hands flat on the table, mirroring Astrid. My energy spilled out from my skin in a rush, like a dam just lifted. I felt it connect with Astrid's and another scream sounded from the dark.

I raised my gaze to the mist and for a moment, I could've sworn I saw something looking out at me. The mist reached outward, a clawed hand beseeching.

When I raised my hand, Astrid screamed, "Don't!"

But it was too late. I took hold of the hand that stretched the mists and it felt sturdy and solid against mine. The creature's grip tightened, threatening to crush my bones, but I was fey and werewolf; it could crush my hand all it wanted.

I would heal.

Two carnelian eyes with slitted pupils pushed outward. The hand that held mine jerked roughly.

I curled my knees up, knocking them under the table as it literally picked me up.

Arthur's hands caught me at the waist and I heard him say, "Holy fucking-" over a loud wind that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere.

The creature tried to pull me in again, and this time I pushed, but not with my body. I envisioned the waves that feared no stone, no high rock. Somewhere in my mind, I heard a raven cry, just as I had in the dream, but this time, it wasn't seeking aid.