Vesik 3 Winter's Demon (19 page)

“Edgar is more god than I will ever be.”

The Watcher shot the man a glare I’d seen directed at me on more than one occasion. I call it the ‘I’m going to kill you now if you don’t shut up’ glare.

“Hail to thee.” The sneer was palpable through the Old Man’s beard.

“Enough, this is not the time for ancient things,” Edgar said.

“Ancient things,” the Old Man said with a bitter laugh. “That’s all we are.”

Edgar turned and glared once more before walking up the entryway steps and slamming the front door.

“I believe we may get along quite well,” Vik said as he shook hands with the Old Man and followed Edgar through the door.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked as Sam came up beside me.

“He’s already inside,” she said.

“We had him standing by to wake the Guardian,” Zola said as she opened the door for the fairies and Mike.

I looked at Zola and blinked. She flashed me a toothy grin.

The Old Man reached out and grabbed Sam by the neck, turning her head to the side and staring at the dark, scarred patch of skin. Sam cursed and tried to throw a quick left punch, but he wrapped her up in a fluid twisting motion so she couldn’t move.

“Let her go,” I said, leveling my gun at his head.

“You didn’t even reload yet,” Dell said from beside me. I lowered my gun and my necromancy flared up around me.

“Sloppy, but effective,” the Old Man said as he looked up at me. “Must have hurt like hell for both of you.”

“Release her,” Zola said, not sounding angry so much as being put-upon to supervise a problem child.

He released her, and then casually leaned away from the punch Sam threw. The strength he had to have to restrain Sam like that … I was pissed, but I was also a little impressed.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” she said, fists clenched into balls at her side.

“I am surprised you were not put to death for that piece of work,” the Old Man said as though Sam hadn’t spoken.

“No one knows about it,” I said.

He laughed, and it was rich. The rust broke away as he smiled, ever so slightly. “Edgar knows. Edgar is one of the reasons those laws exist.”

“Enough,” Zola said. “You forget the time.”

The phrase seemed to have weight with the Old Man. He grew silent and nodded at Zola. “I am sorry Samantha. I forget myself at times.”

Sam glanced at Zola, who gave her a small nod. She took a deep breath and turned back to the Old Man. “It’s okay. Let’s just go inside.”

“Amen,” Dominic said as he dropped out of the shadows behind Dell, who proceeded to jump and squeal. It was a manly squeal.

“Ah’m glad you did not attack,” Zola said.

“Not the time,” Dominic and the Old Man chorused together. They paused, and then gave each other a once-over.

“Nice to meet a sensible fang.”

Dominic chuckled. “Fang. I haven’t heard that in centuries Old Man. There are a few of us around.”

“Stupid men,” Sam grumbled as we all walked back into Rivercene.

***

“Who’s coming with me to Saint Louis?” I asked. We were gathered in the front of the mansion again, sprawled out from the piano and past the fireplace leading into the dining room.

“Let’s go,” Dad said as he picked up the leather satchel of bomb lances.

“Not yet,” Zola said.

“But he said—” Sam started as she pointed at the Old Man.

The room erupted into an incoherent babble of what we should and shouldn’t do. The Watchers wanted to stay. My family was hell bent on getting to Saint Louis. Dominic and Vik were with us. Mike was being diplomatic and staying out of it.

“Silence!” Zola said, her voice tearing through the cacophony of sound. “We need to rest. Ezekiel could kill us all. You do
not
understand what you face.” The arguments continued.

“Let me speak.”

I blinked and turned toward the voice, only a shadow in my peripheral vision.

“Damian, let me speak.”

I focused and found Carter standing beside me. His stare was intent on the Old Man. I nodded and pushed a wave of necromancy into him, weaving it with the golden sheen of my own soul until Carter and Maggie both blazed into reality, plain for everyone to see.

The Old Man’s eyes narrowed and then shot to me. “You’re full of tricks, aren’t you?” His voice boomed in the suddenly quiet room.

Everyone gaped at the newly corporeal werewolves. Foster glided over and settled on Carter’s shoulder. It wouldn’t really hit me until later that he’d done it to show just how solid I’d made them.

“Zola is right,” Carter said. “Rest now. You need to split into two groups.”

“At least two,” Maggie said.

“The demon they raised was sighted near Howell Island,” Carter said. “I can only assume it’s going to be waiting for you. We sent Vicky and the Harrowers to intercept it.”

I didn’t like that at all, but I knew the kid could take care of herself. “We have to help,” I said.

Carter stared at me before his eyes moved slowly to Sam. “If Vicky can’t stop them, none of you can either.”

“I could,” the Old Man said.

“I, as well,” Mike said.

“With so little rest?” Carter said. “You’re falling apart, Mike. Your aura is erratic.”

The demon crossed his arms and leaned into the wall. “I won’t argue with you about it. Yes, I am tired, but our friends need help.”

“The wolf is right,” Vassili said. “They will not kill your mother so quickly. Dead bait is not good bait.”

“Usually,” Zola said quietly. The Old Man flashed a faint smile through his scraggly beard.

“Fine, but we’re leaving early,” Sam said as she pointed to Vassili. “I don’t care if you get grumpy in the sunlight. We’re leaving early.”

Vassili raised his white eyebrows and then bowed slightly to Sam. “As you say.”

“Good, some of you need to stay here,” Carter said as Edgar nodded his approval. “The rest, meet us in Chesterfield. We’ll divide from there. Koda says some of Philip’s men are showing up in Saint Charles.”

“Who’s Koda?” James asked from over Edgar’s shoulder.

“Koda, from the Society of Flame,” Carter said without missing a beat. Koda was, for lack of a better term, thrilled with the creation of the Ghost Pack. Something new and interesting for the old ghost to study.

Carter didn’t acknowledge James any further. “Some of us will need to support Frank and Ashley. The rest go for Dimitry’s wife. Get some rest.”

Carter nodded to me and I cut the power. He was still there, a vague outline in my peripheral vision, but the house was screwing with my senses again.

“All of you, off to bed,” the innkeeper said. “I’ll have breakfast in the morning.”

The Old Man stood and stretched. “No need to beat the horse anymore tonight.” He turned and disappeared down the hallway. The rest of the group followed suit, quiet conversations echoing through the old halls as we parted ways for the night.

I felt a hand on my shoulder before I reached the stairs and turned to find Mike. He glanced away, taking in our surroundings, and then met my eyes again.

“What you did for the wolves, you brought them into this world,” he said. “I could feel them here, truly here.”

I nodded. “It seems to work with any ghosts, but it’s really easy with those two. I think it has something to do with the Prosperine battle.”

“Could you?” Mike asked as his voice trailed off to a whisper. “Would you do that for me?”

“For you?” I said. “You’re already here. I can punch you and my fist will hurt.”

“Not me,” he said.

Face, palm. “Her,” I said. Mike’s little necromancer, the girl he’d given up everything for. He’d sworn an oath as she’d died in his arms almost two centuries ago. Aeros had told us the story. It was one of a thousand tragedies that lived in the history at Stones River.

A small smile quirked the corners of Mike’s mouth.

“It’s only temporary. I can’t keep it up very long, maybe twenty or thirty minutes, tops.”

“If you can give us twenty minutes to be together, I would give you the world.”

“That’s probably overkill,” I said.

“I will owe you a favor. A true debt, Damian, a binding debt that I will repay, no matter the cost to myself.”

“I thought you could already do that. I mean, you can touch her, right?”

“It is not the same my friend.” His eyes trailed off into the shadows of the staircase. “You brought those wolves to life tonight. I am selfish enough to want that, if only for the time a candle burns.”

“Mike, you’ve helped us more than I believed a demon could.”

“I have forsaken the darkness and I am fallen because of it.”

“Seems like a good choice to me.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do it, but not for any trade. I’ll do it because you’re my friend.” I put my hand on the demon’s shoulder. “Make no mistake. Everyone here calls you friend.” I paused and tapped my chin. “Except James, oh, and Edgar. Maybe Vassili, I can’t really tell what he thinks of you.”

“He’s a bit creepy,” Mike said.

I chuckled.

“Say what you want, Damian, I will still owe you a favor if you do this.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll probably call you when I need to move some bookshelves.”

We started up the stairs.

“Christ, making a ghost corporeal so she can get it on with her demon lover. I am so going to hell.”

“Have you ever eaten meat on a Friday?” Mike asked as the stairs echoed beneath our footsteps.

“What?” I said. “Does cow count?”

“Ah, then you were already going to hell,” Mike said. “This will be nothing to worry about.”

“Super,” I said flatly. “Is she here? This place screws with my ghost radar.”

“She is,” Mike said.

“Alright, where do you want to do this?”

“Hot tub,” the demon said, nonchalantly.

“My room?” I said, somewhat surprised.

He nodded.

I grumbled under my breath about the awkward tub protocols in this lovely establishment, and then led the way to my room with Mike laughing all the way.

I stopped at the foot of the bed and dug around my backpack for the headphones Sam had given me.

“What are you doing?” Mike said.

I held up the small white earphones and plugged them into my phone. “Privacy and all,” I said.

I focused, hard, and found Mike’s little necromancer sitting on the chair at the vanity. She grinned and drummed her fingers through the wood. Bringing ghosts into our world was becoming old hat. I barely even had to think about gathering the power and lacing it with a soulart. The snake of yellowish energy lanced out across the floor and her translucent form burst into golden light. Her fingers began to beat a steady rhythm on the vanity as my power gave her flesh.

The small impish girl, the girl who played with hellfire and beings that were the sun to her own tiny world, smiled up at her lover as she came into our company once more. I knew how she felt in some ways, that irresistible temptation to find out if you were the one who could get away with it, if you could wield the weapons already known to have destroyed dynasties.

She still wore her old Civil War uniform, all color lost to a pale golden glow. She looked at me and blinked before wiping tears from her face. “Thank you, Damian,” she whispered.

I smiled and nodded as I picked up the headphones and turned my music up. Mike crushed her in a hug, a reddish tear on his own cheek, as they disappeared into the old whirlpool tub behind the door.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

S
omething loud and rhythmic woke me up in the morning. My brain instantly jumped to the alarm clock and began listing reasons to destroy it. Once I finally cracked my eyes open, I realized it was my phone. The contact name said ‘TNT.’ I picked it up.

“Hey, Frank.”

“Damian! Thank god. The video went viral. The Watchers didn’t get it in time.”

The video. The video of us shooting people and hurling magic. The video that finished with Ashley unleashing that cloud of absolute destruction.
That
video was out in the public eye. I head-butted my pillow.

“Bloody fucking hell.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. All remnants of sleep were gone in a moment of shock. I barely registered the bedroom door clicking shut behind me.

“Most sites are touting it as phenomenal homemade special effects, but others are already pushing it as evidence,” Frank said.

“Evidence,” I said.

“Evidence of us,” Sam said.

I glanced at my sister, standing at the edge of my bed. Her lips were pulled into a small frown and her eyebrows were drawn together.

“Is that Sam?” Frank asked.

“Yeah. Is Ashley still with you?”

“She’s been sleeping on the couch. Bubbles and Peanut have a new best friend.”

I chuckled at the thought of our indoor ponies smothering Ashley on the couch. “Be sure she stays there, Frank. There’s trouble headed your way.”

“Sam told me,” he said. “I called her first.”

That probably explained why she was now standing at the foot of my bed. I nodded, even though Frank couldn’t see it, and said “Good, we’ll be there as soon as we get our mom.”

“Be careful.”

“You too.” I hung up the phone and stared at Sam.

“Edgar,” we said in unison.

I pulled on my jeans and a clean shirt and followed Sam down the hall. We knocked on the Watchers’ door, but no one answered. No James, no Edgar. We continued down the stairs, heading toward the faint sound of voices in the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon was a stark contrast to the dread settling in my gut.

The conversation was out on the porch. As we got closer to the door, I could tell it was a heated argument and I was pretty sure Zola was on one side of it. Mike motioned us into the kitchen from his seat beside the fireplace. Vassili and Dominic were already up, and the latter had a forkful of waffle stuffed in his mouth. By the look on their faces, I was thinking neither one had eaten a waffle in a very long time. My attention left the distant yells and blissful vampires behind as my gaze found Edgar.

He was wide-eyed when we walked into the kitchen, unfocused until his gaze locked onto me. I was fairly certain he’d already gotten the news, one way or another.