Any Witch Wolf (The Smokethorn Paranormals #2)

Chapter 1

Peaceful Dunes Memorial Cemetery sprawled over two acres. The land here felt ancient, the kind of old one could taste on the air. Leaning tombstones and monuments with glowing alchemical symbols engraved into them protruded from grassless mounds in creepy arrangements.

This was the sort of graveyard even hardcore goth kids would run screaming from. Yet here I was, my orange Mini parked outside the massive wrought iron gates, oldies radio station turned up, windows rolled down.

“Do you think the ghoul will try to feed from us?” I asked.

“Yep.” My best friend Ida nodded, her silver, chin-length hair dusting over her jawline. The hot-pink, crystal-framed night vision sunglasses I’d given her last Valentine’s Day slid down her nose, and she pushed them up.

“ Meow ,” my cat—and partner—Fennel agreed.

I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes until three a.m. “This is a terrible idea, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“ Meow .”

I stared into the graveyard, the smoky, unnatural darkness curling around the edges of the property sending a chill down my spine, through my legs, and into the floorboard of the Mini.

“So, we’re in agreement then. We’re going to do this,” I said.

“Yep.”

“ Meow .”

Another glance at my watch told me it was eight minutes until three. Gloria Gaynor sang her disco anthem “Never Can Say Goodbye.” It was a little too on the nose for my comfort, so I switched off the radio.

“Sexton said his contact would meet us at the witching hour. That we were to stay on the other side of the property and wait for him to approach.”

Earlier today, the graveyard demon had once again guaranteed our safety with the ghoul. Unfortunately, he couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t be spooked out of my skin at the thought of meeting him.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust him,” Ida grumbled. Necromancers and graveyard demons didn’t get along, and Ida and Sexton had beef with each other that complicated things.

“You stay in the car,” I said. “I’m betting ghouls don’t have a great relationship with necromancers.”

“You’d win that bet. They hate us even more than cemetery demons. Unless we’re useful to them in some way. But that’s true of all demons—and a lot of corporate CEOs I’ve worked with.”

“All the more reason for you to stay put.”

She gave me a distinctly Ida look. “As long as he minds his manners, I’ll stay in the car and mind mine.”

That was the best I’d get from her, so I turned my attention to my partner. “Fennel, feel free to do a little recon, but stay on this side of the gate,” I said. “We don’t want the ghoul to feel threatened. Something tells me it wouldn’t go well for any of us.”

“You feeling up to this?” Ida asked.

She wasn’t asking if I’d taken my vitamins this morning. She was asking if my magic was strong enough to face down a ghoul. And the truth was, I didn’t know. Lately, my magic was like the moon. It waxed and waned.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Will it help that there’s a lot of soil around here?” she asked, brushing past my empty reassurance. She knew me well.

“I hope so.”

As an earth witch, I’d been born into my magic. While I used charms, spells, and incantations like taught witches, mostly what I needed was to gather my magic and set my intention. I was at my strongest when I connected to the elemental power in the soil. It supercharged my spells.

Usually.

Unfortunately, my natural magic had begun weakening about three years ago, after my mother died. I still had power, but I worried I might never be at full strength again.

Fennel and I got out of the Mini. I went to stand beneath an overwatered mesquite tree, and he took off on his own. A brisk wind shook the branches, raining debris down on me. I zipped my black hoodie to my chin and waited in the cool, silent night for the ghoul to show.

A pair of dim headlights illuminated Fennel’s trek through the alkali soil to the other side of the cemetery. A lime-green Ford truck with the rounded body of a ‘50’s classic hung a left on the old farm road beside the graveyard and headed our way. The words UFO & Artifact Retrieval: Alien, Human, Paranormal, Celestial, Demon were painted on the door.

This couldn’t possibly be the ghoul. It was just too strange. However, a glance at my watch told me it was a minute to three, so anything was possible.

The truck braked beside me, and the dome light came on, revealing a white man in his mid-seventies behind the wheel. He smiled and held up two fingers in a peace sign.

I smiled and returned the sign, hoping he wouldn’t be suspicious of a woman dressed from head to toe in black, parked outside a deserted cemetery at almost three in the morning.

The man nodded, the dome light switched off, and he puttered on down the road.

Gods, East Pluto was a weird place.

The unincorporated town was less of a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it truck stop, and more of a stare-too-long-and-you’ll-regret-it don’t stop. When I needed crystals for a spell, I patronized a business here. Although Wicked, a magical supply store in La Paloma, stocked some of their crystals, the best deals were at the shop. Even so, it was smart to call ahead before making the hour drive. East Pluto businesses chose their hours according to convenience. Their own.

Seasoned desert travelers knew it was best to grab snacks and gas up in La Paloma or Yuma rather than depend on anything in East Pluto, even if their diner did serve the best french fries in the county.

Ida leaned out of the window. “Good graves, this place is weird.”

“It’s almost time,” I said, a warning in my tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled up the window.

I bent over a cement planter overflowing with succulents, my gaze resting on a thriving string-of-pearls plant. I whispered to it, asking permission to connect with it. It shivered with delight as I sank my fingers into the soil and sent magic into its roots. I smiled and thanked it.

The world went stone silent. Frozen. Still.

The wind blowing the trees ceased. Nothing burrowed in the soil, nothing skittered across the road—nothing moved.

My heart beat a rapid tattoo in my ears as I stood and moved away from the planter.

“You must be the witch.” The voice echoed oppressively, as if it were trapped alive inside a coffin.

I whirled around. Whipped my head from side to side and searched for the source of the man’s voice.

“Over here.” A skeletal shadow leaned against the tree. He twiddled his bony fingers at me. They rattled like castanets in a flamenco class.

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “You’re Dominick? I-I’m Betty Lennox. Nice to meet you.”

“It would appear otherwise.” He spoke with Sexton’s elegant cadence. Did all death demons attend the same finishing school? “I am honored to meet you, Betty Lennox.”

He sniffed the air in a way reminiscent of a wolf shifter, his gaze narrowing when he spied Ida in the front seat of the Mini. For her part, she was staring straight through the windshield, pretending not to notice him.

“ Necromancer .” He didn’t so much whisper the word as inhale it. My body went cold. It felt as if I’d fallen face first into an iceberg. My heart tried to beat faster, to warn me of the danger, but even it was slowed by the intense cold.

The snick of the Mini passenger side door caught my attention. I didn’t dare turn around, but I waved Ida back with a flick of my hand. Her presence would only escalate an already dangerous situation.

The door slammed shut.

“S-Sexton said you w-wouldn’t f-feed on m-me.” My jaw was solid ice, so stiff I was worried it might break.

The ghoul’s lids lowered like a window shade. When he opened them again, the chill fled my body in a brutal pull. I was still cold, but I could move without pain now.

“That’s correct. We had an agreement to that effect.” No apology, no excuse. He continued, as if he hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of me. “I knew your mother. Lila was an excellent witch. Although I was saddened to hear of her departure from this plane, I am delighted to inform you that she is in a good place. As safe as one can be on the other side of existence, which is to say, very safe indeed.”

The ghoul had known my mother? And he knew where she was in the next realm?

Everything in me wanted to ask him if he could contact her for me, though I knew it was pointless. Ghouls might be able to travel in the otherworlds, but, like most cemetery demons, they weren’t allowed to interact with spirits—only other demons.

“Thank you,” I said, unsure how to respond.

His skull moved in what I assumed was a nod. I couldn’t see him well enough to be sure, and I wasn’t getting any closer.

“You fear me.” It wasn’t a question.

My shoulders dropped. “I had a run-in with a ghoul as a young witch. It was not a good experience.” And I’m going to pretend you didn’t deeply frighten me a moment ago because arguing with a ghoul is a lose-lose proposition.

“My kind can be … difficult. I, however, mean you no harm.”

He stepped out of the shadows and allowed me to see a little more of him. I was surprised he was wearing a cowboy hat. Further surprised that it looked like it belonged on him. He reminded me of an Old West undertaker—an exceedingly tall one. The demon had to be at least seven feet and was as skeletally thin as Sexton, meaning he looked like he could walk through a picket fence without touching the sides.

“I appreciate that.” I cleared my throat and tried to shiver away the chill. “Did Sexton make the arrangements, or do we need to call him?”

“All is done.” A bone white hand extended toward me, a square box wrapped in paper and twine balanced on the palm. “Do not leave the artifact in bright light. Do not allow it to become wet. Do not?—”

“Feed it after midnight?” I asked.

Dominick had apparently never watched Gremlins , because he creaked his head to one side and gave me a puzzled look.

“Sorry to interrupt. What was the third thing?” I asked.

“Do not open the box. However, if it expresses a desire to eat, even after midnight, I suggest you do not hesitate to ensure it is well-fed.”

Well, that didn’t sound absofreakinglutely terrifying. Not that it mattered. I needed the money for this job, and I’d do whatever I had to.

“Got it.”

He handed me the box with the sort of attentiveness one might give an infant—or a bomb. “I am certain you do, Betty Lennox.”

The ghoul was silent for a beat, but he wasn’t leaving, so I didn’t either.

“Did your mother tell you the seven saguaros in your mobile home park were originally from my cemetery?”

Gods, how I loved getting out-of-the-blue-sky information about my life from strangers.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

Moonlight glinted off glowing white teeth. “I gave the cactuses to a friend nearly one hundred years ago. The property changed hands several times over the years, but the saguaros remained. They blossomed under Lila’s care. She was a fine witch.”

“She was.” My throat clogged with emotion. Damn, I was fragile when it came to Mom. Even kindness from a cemetery ghoul had me fighting back tears. “When she died, her soil went into shock, and they all died. I tried so hard, but I was too weak to save them.”

The ghoul’s head gently bobbed to one side in a macabre expression of tenderness. If anyone but a demon had given me that look, I would’ve viewed it as mockery. “Perhaps it had nothing to do with weakness,” he said. “Perhaps you weren’t meant to save the saguaros.”

“Of course I was. I’m an earth witch.” I held Sexton’s artifact box tight to my chest. Comforting warmth emanated from the package. “Losing them was like losing my mother all over again.”

He nodded, bones creaking with the movement. “But you haven’t actually lost anything. Your mother is doing well in the next realm, and the saguaros are still in your park.”

What part of all seven saguaros are dead did the ghoul not understand?

I stifled the urge to pop off sarcastically, and simply said, “No, they aren’t. They’re dead.”

“In their former forms, yes. But I doubt they’re entirely gone. Look deeper. What you find might surprise you.” He stepped back into the shadows. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Betty Lennox. Please send my regards to Sexton. Don’t forget to take your cat with you.” The tree made a rustling sound as he faded into its shadows. “Tell the necromancer I will stop at nothing to protect the souls of those in my care. Her kind is unwelcome here.”

“That necromancer is my best friend,” I said.

“All the more reason to ensure she heeds my warning. I won’t give it again.” The leaves of the mesquite tree shivered, and I was alone again.

Fennel leapt onto the hood of the Mini and stared glassy-eyed into the cemetery. His pupils were huge, ears plastered against his head, tail rage-swiping.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I got the artifact, and I’m okay. Let’s go.”

We piled into the Mini. I handed the package to Ida and told her what Dominick had said about it.

“Sounds dangerous.” She examined the box, turning it from side to side.

“It probably is. I’ll call Sexton as soon as we’re back. The faster that thing is out of my possession, the happier I’ll be.” I set the heater on high and switched on the radio in time to catch the opening strains of “Hotel California.” Ida and I sang along with the Eagles as I pulled away from the cemetery and sped down the back roads that would take us home.

If I’d been a less observant witch, I might not have noticed the way Ida held the box far away from her body, the way her mouth pulled down at the corners when she looked at it, and the way she kept sneaking worried looks at me.