Still Not Dead Enough , Book 2 of The Dead Among Us (16 page)

After they’d rescued the little Garza boy, they had eight confirmed demon kills to take care of, eight souls only Paul could raise, eight souls from whom only Paul could excise the essence of the demon left behind. Katherine had helped where she could, and of course, at the right moment the sword always came to her, not to Paul. So in that sense she was as essential to the process as him. But still, he took the lion’s share of the burden, though knowing what to expect they had no more fiascos like those that occurred during their previous exorcisms. They’d finished the eighth exorcism two days ago, and Paul had slept ten to twelve hours a day since, but still the fatigue was visible.

The Garza’s had invited them over for a big dinner. Raphael bragged openly about his mother’s cooking. And it was a feast. Salisteen and Ramirez declared it some of the best Tex-Mex they’d had. They all drank a few beers and Paul got a little tipsy, though he didn’t have that much to drink so it was probably another symptom of his exhaustion.

With each exorcism Paul had told them he felt the demon’s presence weakening. And it appeared that whoever had helped the demon had gone to ground—if some mortal had helped the demon, a question they all agreed could not be answered definitively one way or the other. If there was someone, they’d crawled into a hole and gone completely silent. On the other hand, if there was no one, then the mere act of exorcising the remnants of the demon had removed it from the Mortal Plane.

Ramirez had checked with the families and confirmed that each of the girls had occasionally worn a pinafore. And then there was the fact that Monica Clarkson’s spirit had referred to
he
and not
it
. To Katherine that stank of mortal involvement. It was not a satisfying conclusion to such a nasty business, but they couldn’t just camp out in Dallas indefinitely, so it would have to do.

In any case they had a wonderful time at the Garza’s, though since they were scheduled to fly back to San Francisco the next morning, they excused themselves in the early evening.

~~~

One last time.

He was terrified. The voice in his soul had now grown completely silent; not a sound, not a hint of the strength and the power he’d derived from it, nothing. But he wanted to return to that glory, and he’d vowed he’d try one last time. So he would.

It was early evening with dusk quickly approaching when he turned onto the little Mexican girl’s street. He spotted her house immediately, and he spotted the squad car parked out in front of it, and his heart went cold.

Of course! She was the little boy’s friend, and he’d sensed the interference of some powerful practitioners. They would have made the connection. He’d hoped that one last kill might bring the voice back. But now he’d have to do it the hard way. He’d have to summon the demon again, and preparation for that would take several months.

He drove his car down the street, staying just a little above the speed limit but not so much that they’d pull him over. Cops expected people to speed a little. He turned left on the second street past her house, didn’t realize he’d turned onto the little boy’s street until he saw the cars and the crowd of people in front of the house.

He drove past them at his carefully chosen speed just above the speed limit. There were four older people, clearly practitioners, and a handsome young man and a beautiful young woman, also clearly practitioners, all taking their leave of the little boy’s father and grandmother. He should have done his homework better, should have realized the grandmother was a witch. But now he was most interested in the six practitioners leaving the house, and for some reason he was especially drawn to the young man and woman.

He took note of the cars they’d be driving, decided to wait in the parking lot of the strip mall near the bus stop. They’d have to drive out that way.

Chapter 11: The Triple Goddess

Katherine was glad to be back in San Francisco. After their return from Dallas she’d had a strong desire for normalcy, no wizards or witches, no spells, no demons, so for the past week she’d thrown herself into her work and purposefully avoided any contact with other practitioners, especially her father. She was a little disappointed Paul hadn’t tried to reach her.

Saturday had dawned bright and clear, not a cloud in the sky, and quite warm for an early spring day. She’d spent the morning doing a little frivolous shopping downtown, purely for medicinal purposes, didn’t really spend much, just enjoyed herself. Shopping cleansed her soul, especially if she bought something Eric would disapprove of. When they were married he’d rather spend her money on himself.

Around noon she took a cab to Fisherman’s Wharf, actually enjoyed the crowds of tourists, got some crab from one of those street-side stalls for lunch. Then she took a cab to the Presidio and had a thoroughly wonderful afternoon just wandering aimlessly through its streets and parks, wound up sitting on a bench in the sun in the National Cemetery as dusk approached.

~~~

Anogh watched with some amusement as the little people manipulated the reality of the necromancer and the Old Wizard’s daughter. Cadilus’ spells, with the aid of his flunkies, did a nice job of keeping the two apart. And while the little people were not mages, could not cast spells or formulate magic, could not counter Cadilus’ spells, they were masters at manipulating reality.

Anogh watched the young woman spend a leisurely day with no purpose, watched as she slowly, with no reason or intent, drifted toward the Presidio and the National Cemetery. He frequently shifted back and forth between her and the young man, and in that way was able to watch him, through complete happenstance, end up in the Presidio, and on a whim, decide to take a shortcut through the National Cemetery.

The little people were truly masterful. The edge of the cemetery was a powerful Boundary, and both young people were close at hand.

~~~

Paul was glad to be back in San Francisco. After their return from Dallas he’d had a strong desire for normalcy, no wizards or witches, no spells, no demons, so for the past week he’d thrown herself into his work and purposefully avoided any contact with other practitioners, especially the McGowan clan. He was a little disappointed Katherine hadn’t tried to reach him.

Saturday afternoon he attended a wedding at the Palace of Fine Arts, with a reception at the Exploratorium. He didn’t know the bride or groom well, just casual acquaintances, so he spent only a short time at the reception, then made his excuses and left.

He needed a cab to get back to his apartment, thought about using his cell phone to call one, decided it might be quicker if he just tried hailing one. He’d probably have a good chance in the Presidio, so he headed that direction. He had just begun to realize that trying to hail a cab was a mistake, when he passed the entrance to the National Cemetery, and on a whim decided to walk through it.

“Paul!”

He turned at the sound of Katherine’s voice. She was seated on a concrete bench just a few feet away. “Katherine, what are you doing here?”

She frowned. “Just spent the day doing a bit of this, a bit of that, ended up here. What are you doing here?”

“Just came from a wedding at the Palace of Fine Arts. Was looking for a cab. Want to share one.”

“Looking for a cab in a cemetery?”

“Oh, I just turned in here on a whim.”

She stood. “Ok, let’s go find a cab.”

They turned and walked briskly toward the cemetery entrance. But then someone shouted, “Hold up, yee daft fools.”

They both stopped and turned, saw the two leprechauns running toward them. They caught up to them and both bent and put their hands on their knees, panting for air. Between stuttered breaths Jim’Jiminie said, “And long-legged fools at that.”

Paul asked, “What are you doing here?” It came out more harshly than he intended. The little fellows, while exasperating, had always tried to help him.

“We’re here to save your fool ass,” Boo’Diddle snapped.

Jim’Jiminie added. “He doesn’t appreciate us, Boo.”

“Maybe we should just leave them here.”

Paul tried to apologize. “I’m sorry. I—”

Jim’Jiminie ignored him and said to Boo’Diddle, “Teach him a lesson if we did leave him here.”

Boo’Diddle grimaced, “Ya, but do you want to be the one to tell Katie’O’girl we did that?”

Jim’Jiminie cringed. “Aye, she’s got a sharp tongue, that one.”

Boo’Diddle put his hands on his hips and looked at Paul and Katherine. “We need a boundary, so follow us.”

The two leprechauns headed toward the edge of the cemetery, walking between rows of simple, white grave markers. Paul looked at Katherine. She shrugged and said, “I’m pretty sure they’re our friends, so we might as well.”

The two of them followed the little fellows, Paul asking, “A boundary? Why a boundary? And what kind of boundary?”

Boo’Diddle dropped back to walk beside them. “We need a boundary to get you from here to there. Without fey blood in you, the traveling is harder.”

“Traveling?” Paul asked. “Where are we going?”

Boo’Diddle looked up at him and his eyes narrowed. Paul had the impression it was a look of pity. “Just follow us. We have someone who wants to meet you both.”

The two little fellows stopped at the edge of the cemetery and looked it over carefully. “This’ll do nicely,” Jim’Jiminie said.

“Yes, indeed!” Boo’Diddle added. “Couldn’t have asked for better.”

Paul asked, “Why here?”

Jim’Jiminie said. “The perimeter of a cemetery, it’s the boundary between life and death, which is especially appropriate for you.”

A gravel strewn walking path lined the edge of the cemetery, with rows of grave markers on one side and trees lining the other. The two leprechauns walked casually along the row of trees, and as Paul and Katherine followed cautiously, he wasn’t sure what to expect. They’d taken about twenty steps when Paul noticed the horizon had brightened a bit, as if the sun were about to rise, and it reminded him of the purplish sky he’d seen outside his apartment the first night the Russians had attacked him. But they were near dusk in San Francisco, not dawn, and in any case the sky appeared to have a pinkish tint to it.

The row of trees thinned out as they walked, became little more than a row of low-lying shrubs that had a rather odd look to them. He’d never seen their like so he stopped and examined one carefully. Its green leaves had a violet cast that made them appear to shimmer, with flowers so deeply purple they were near black. And as he stood there Paul felt reality slipping from his grasp along a strange spiral track, a kind of twist in reality, a sensation he’d felt several times now, and he thought he could almost understand it.

Jim’Jiminie called, “What are you dawdling for?”

Paul straightened, realizing he’d slipped into an almost trance-like reverie. Standing beside him, Katherine seemed dazed, and she stumbled as her high-heels sank into the soft earth of the path. He took her hand and they lurched forward toward the two leprechauns who stood on a hillside above a green and verdant countryside of low rolling hills. In the distance smoke curled upward lazily from the chimneys of a dozen quaint little huts as a pink sun burned off a low morning mist.

It was morning, not night, and they were certainly no longer in San Francisco. He turned abruptly and looked back the way they’d come. There was no row of trees, no gravel strewn path, no cemetery, just a dirt cart-path winding through an emerald green countryside.

Paul turned back to the leprechauns and demanded, “Where are we? How did we get here?”

The two little men looked at each other and shook their heads sadly.

Paul repeated, “Where are we?”

Jim’Jiminie took a deep breath and let out a long exasperated sigh. “We’re no longer there, and we’re now here.”

“And where’s here?” Paul demanded.

“He is a might thick, ain’t he?” Boo’Diddle said.

Katherine put her hands on her hips and said, “You’ve taken us to Faerie, haven’t you? Which Court?”

The little man nodded his head. “We’re in non-aligned fey. We’re not taking you anywhere close to either Court.”

Paul turned slowly about, turned full circle and scanned the countryside. It looked too much like pictures of a quaint Irish countryside, but color-shifted. The hillsides were green, for the most part, but the sky had a lollypop pinkish hue to it. “This is all bullshit. This isn’t real.”

Boo’Diddle looked pointedly at Paul, and spoke with sarcasm dripping from every word. “It’s as real or not real as leprechauns, yee daft fool. And you’d better show some respect when you meet the Morrigan.”

“Morrigan?” Paul asked. “Who’s this Morrigan?”

Jim’Jiminie grinned. “The
triple goddess
.”

Katherine leaned close to Paul and whispered, “I really don’t want to meet a goddess.”

A tiny female voice said, “You’ve really no choice in the matter, me darlin’.”

A little female version of the two leprechauns now stood in the cart-path. She wore a bright green dress, with a white apron and a deep red shawl. She’d tied her grayish hair back in a bun, and her ample bosom jiggled as she unleashed her anger, “The Morrigan would’ve been sore displeased if you’d refused her invitation.”

Paul had met her once before, on another disaster strewn romp through Faerie. To Katherine he said, “This is Katie’O’girl.”

Katie’O’girl put her hands on her hips, mimicking Katherine, and looked Katherine over carefully. “Sure, she’s even prettier than I’d heard.”

She abruptly turned and walked toward the cluster of huts. “Come along, the two of you. The Morrigan waits, and it’s never good to keep a goddess waiting.”

Paul looked at Katherine and she shrugged. He let her lead and he followed.

The little huts looked like something out of a Disney movie, thatched roofs and all, though it was unlikely they’d see the inside of one since neither he nor Katherine could fit through the waste high doors. But then, as they followed Katie’O’girl, reality shifted again and the leprechauns disappeared.

Katherine stopped abruptly and turned around. “Where are they? Where’d they go?”