Witches (Runes series Book 6) (15 page)

BOOK: Witches (Runes series Book 6)
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I put my dagger away, went on my knees, and pressed my hands on the ground. Something snarled behind me in the bushes and I jumped. My eyes darted around, searching for the source. Nothing. Not even a rustle of trees.

Come on. Connect with me, please.

The spark flickered, but before it could bloom, beefy arms closed around me from behind, trapping my hands. So much for Torin’s warning. My attacker obviously hadn’t gotten the memo.

Humid hot breath drenched my neck. My strength runes weren’t enough to break his grip. Grinding my teeth, I pushed down the fear threatening to drown me and dug deeper. I needed my magic now. The spark dimmed and flickered out.

Damn it! Time to scream and be rescued again. I hated that.

I opened my mouth, but I caught a movement from the corner of my eyes. Something black and huge crept from the bushes and leaped toward us. It moved so fast all I saw were streaks of light and eyes. So many eyes.

Fear trapped the scream in my throat as the thing with glowing eyes moved closer. Heart pounding, I struggled to reach for my dagger. I didn’t stand a chance against the two of them, but I’d go down fighting.

The next second, I was free. I turned and caught the sight of fangs before the animal sunk its teeth into the neck of my attacker and whisked him away.

I had no time to wonder what that animal was, but the enemy of my enemies was my friend. I went back to trying to connect with my magic, before I became chow to another one of the things. The desire was there, but I was too rattled to focus.

Torin yelled something and shot past me, taking one more down. The thing disappeared, leaving poor Torin rolling across the basketball court with an arm he’d hacked off. He hit the fence, taking it with him and smashing into a nearby building with a sickening thud. I cringed, knowing he must have broken something.

Maybe it was the concern for him that did it, but I connected with the source in my core again. This time, it exploded and spread. I pushed my fingers into the earth and closed my eyes. Lavania had said sometimes a rhyme worked faster than just a command.

Reclaim what has been taken

By souls foul and wrong

Let the dead never awaken

From your cradle where they belong

I opened my eyes to see the earth suck the creatures like a giant vacuum cleaner, leaving behind the souls defenseless. I counted about a dozen. Fifteen. Nineteen. Some of them so black all I saw were their outlines. The one nearest to me looked ready to bolt. I pulled out my dagger and pointed at him. The energy still pulsing through me connected with the dagger and transformed it into a staff. The blue crystal inside the round knot at the tip glowed.

“Don’t even think about it, pal,” I snarled.

Torin laughed. “That’s my girl.” He was still on the ground, half-buried by the metal fence and bricks from the wall, exposing what appeared to be a classroom. The building looked new.

“You okay?” I called out, a little giddy from the magical buzz.

“Yeah.”

He was still taking his sweet time getting off the ground and was starting to worry me. He was usually Mr. Invincible. Keeping my staff leveled at the soul, I waved my hand and the fence and bricks lifted off him.

 
“Thanks, luv.” He stood and walked toward me with a slight limp, a glowing artavus in his hand. He looked a mess, blood and dirt all over his face and clothes. Just how long had he been fighting these things?

“You’re sure you are okay?” I asked.

“Yep. Just tired of dealing with
Draugar
. Where did you get that?” he asked, his eyes on my staff.

“The Norn’s dagger. It transforms into a staff.” The words barely left my mouth when the dark soul I was guarding decided to run. “Hey!” I yelled and pointed the staff at it. Light shot from the tip. I expected the dark soul to disintegrate into pieces. Instead, the light wrapped around him and pulled it toward the staff like a tracking beam.

This was not good. I didn’t want that dark soul anywhere near me. “Torin?”

“Got you.” His hand gripped mine. “Relax. Hold it in place. You are in control.”

The beam continued to pull the soul toward my staff. My instinct was to let it go.

“Focus on your magic and control it,” Torin whispered, but Andris drowned his words from the other side of the basketball court.

“Give me a reason to disperse you, you worthless, bottom feeders.” Andris had had both his artavo leveled at the souls. “I’m not in the mood to chase you all over the goddamn world. Get your sorry excuses for souls in there.” He pointed at a portal he’d opened.

“Get over there, you worthless soul,” I yelled, copying Andris. Sure enough the soul moved toward the ones Andris was ordering. Blaine also had his artavo leveled at some. When the one tethered to my staff reached the others, the beam of light dimmed and retracted, until only the tip of the staff glowed. I glanced at Torin and grinned. “I did it. I reaped a soul.”

“Yeah, you and Blaine.”

Blaine peered at the portal, a broad grin on his face. As an Immortal, reaping souls was not his job. The Earl stood on the side. I wondered whether he was thinking of jumping in with the souls. This could be his chance, except he’d be heading to Hel, not Asgard.

Please go! I dare you.

Andris wasn’t smiling and appeared to be keeping an eye on the souls and the Earl. He’d definitely get the Earl if he dared to cross the line. “Andris looks pissed.”

“That’s his favorite jacket drenched with
Draugar
juice,” Torin said.

That was the second time he had used that word. And yeah, Andris
would
get pissed over that. “
Draugar
?”

“Grave robbing souls,” Torin explained. “They possess dead bodies.” He winced as he sheathed his artavus.

“Like zombies, except zombies don’t shape-shift and disappear into the ground.”


Draugar
are not zombies. They’re fast, strong, and ravenous for human flesh, which makes them a menace and hard to kill. Powerful ones like the ones we faced tonight use bones and clay, can change sizes, and disappear into the ground. The trick is to go after the souls inside them instead of cutting off their supply of dead bodies or bones.” He looked at me and grinned. “But now we have you.
Draugar
killer.”

 
“Zombie killer sounds better,” I murmured.

He grinned and reached out as though to touch my face, but I stepped back. The pull he felt was from the magic coiling under my skin, but I didn’t want
Draugar
juice on me either. “You stink.”

He stepped closer, smirking. “So do you, luv.”

Before I could evade his hand again, he palmed the back of my head and kissed me. I forgot about the
Draugar
and how filthy he was. It was always like that whenever we kissed. When he lifted his head, his eyes blazed. Not because of runes.

“Go home, Freckles,” he whispered. “You’ve helped us enough tonight.”

“We need to finish here first.”

“We,” he pointed at Andris and the others, “not you.”

Andris was still directing the souls into the portal. The Earl was now collecting bones and piling them up like a stack of wood. He glanced up and our eyes met.

No matter how much he helped, I didn’t trust him. The
Draugar
that had been caught halfway out of the ground were gone, the clay disintegrated, leaving behind the skeletons. The limbs and the heads were also all skeletons. Others had skin on them like mummies. Guess it depended on how old the graves were.

Blaine walked over to join us. He still held a skeleton arm like it was nothing. I tried not to cringe. “Thanks for the fight, Torin. It’s been a while since I hunted
Revenants
.”

“Dealing with them is a joint effort. Do you think you can get our resident Grimnir? This lot,” he indicated the souls, “belongs in Hel.”

“Sure.” Blaine dropped the arm and created a portal.


Revenants
?” I asked as soon as Blaine disappeared.

“That’s what his people called them in Ireland and England. I’ve been hanging around Asgard for so long I think of them as
Draugar
now.”

Torin squatted and started to etch runes on the ground. The basketball court was totaled, fissures criss-crossing the ground, but the right runes would take care of that. Torin’s father was back at his favorite pastime—watching us. Why couldn’t he just leave? I couldn’t look at him without wanting to punch him in the nose, or put a whammy on him and make him disappear. The souls were all gone, but something kept teasing my memories.

“I think I recognized one of the souls,” I said.

“That’s because a couple of the ones we fought in Kayville last week were here,” Torin said, sounding preoccupied as he etched the right bind runes. “They masterminded this attack. Someone told them we were in Carson.”

Someone like his father? My eyes met the Earl’s again. Funny how the
Draugar
appeared after he did, and they were his friends to boot. Or former friends. Maybe it was him they’d come after because they were dead and he was alive. Or maybe it was because he’d failed to lead them to Asgard as he’d promised and they were out for revenge. The bottom line was he was the only one outside our group who knew Torin and Andris were in California. Throw in his presence at Jace’s place and he was my number one suspect.

“Someone is controlling them,” Torin added.

Draugar
might be intelligent and ruthless, but they rarely attack in packs.” He stopped etching and glanced at me. “Go home, Freckles. Not to your parents. Mine. Shower.
Draugar
stench doesn’t go away without thorough scrubbing and you do not want it in your house.”

“I still haven’t found Onyx. My cat,” I explained when he frowned.

“She’s at home. If she hadn’t recognized the three
Draugar
watching Jace’s house tonight, we would not have stopped them. I assumed the two of you paid Jace a visit and you left her behind to…?”

“Keep an eye on him,” I said.

“Then thanks.” He stood and studied his handiwork. The cracks on the ground sealed like a zipper closing. He threw me a smug smile. “I’m good, aren’t I?”

What a show off. Even though he had a right to be. He was good with runes. He etched them on my car so often I could now recognize his handwriting. “Yes, you are.”

He shot me a side-glance. “Humoring me now, Freckles?”

There was no winning with him. “Okay, you suck.”

He ran a finger down my nose then opened an air portal. “Go home. I’m happy you helped tonight, but you shouldn’t have been out here. You shouldn’t deal with death.” His eyes went to my staff. “You are a healer.”

I was happy he understood that. I had no problem with Valkyries and Grimnirs reaping or retrieving souls. I could even tolerate Norns, but ravenous zombie-like creatures that shape-shifted and disappeared in the blink of an eye were so not what I’d signed up for.

A howl filled the air and I shivered. That was the same sound I’d heard when Andris and I were in Jace’s kitchen. There was also a drop in temperature I hadn’t noticed before. When the sound came again, I realized it was coming from the portal Andris had created. The souls were gone, but Andris and Torin’s father were throwing bones and skulls through the portal, probably feeding the howler.

“Is that
Garm
?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Torin explained. “We fed him the ones we killed earlier.”

Was
Garm
the black animal that helped me earlier? “How long did you battle the
Draugar
tonight?”

“Hours. Go home, luv.”

My eyes went to his father. In his hand was a skull. I remembered the markings on the cheeks and forehead. They were all members of a tribe, which meant this was an old burial ground. Native Americans held such grounds sacred.

“Tell them to stop feeding the hound and close the portal.” Torin stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “It’s not right. They need to stop.”

“We can’t leave the bones here, and
Garm
eats anything.”

“You don’t understand.” I looked around. “This must have been a burial ground for a Native American tribe. Those bones belong here.”

Torin frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You guys were so busy fighting you didn’t take a proper look at the re-animated bodies. Burials grounds are sacred to Native Americans. Hawk will want to know about this.”

Torin cupped his mouth. “Hey! Stop feeding
Garm,
guys. Close the portal.”

“Why?” Andris asked. “What’s going on?” He still sounded pissed.

Torin looked at me. “Tell them.”

“The basketball court must have been built on top of a Native American burial ground,” I said. “I saw the faces of some of the
Draugar
. They had tribal markings. They don’t deserve to be fed to
Garm
.” I went on my knees and pressed my hands on the ground. “I need to put them back where they belong.”

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