Ten
Once we went back inside, Lorne called Father Dennis while I took a seat on the couch next to Argos.
“You didn’t get hurt last night, did you?” I asked him.
Argos lifted his head, regarded me, narrowed his eyes, and then finally gave me a short chirp before curling up into a ball and going to sleep.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Lorne was having one of the muffins Amanda left.
“You should put butter on that.”
He grunted.
“What did Father Dennis say?”
“That we could join him at the Osprey Cemetery tonight at nine. He’s meeting with some paranormal investigators who said they had detected a presence there last night.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
It took me longer than it should have, but really, having paranormal investigators in town when all this is happening… “Are you kidding?”
“Why on earth would I kid about something like that,” he deadpanned.
I smiled.
“Stop.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, chuckling. “That’s hysterical.”
“You have a sick sense of humor.”
“Which is lucky because I think you and my sick sense of humor are what’s gonna get me through this.”
He groaned loudly.
“ Paranormal investigators ,” I emphasized. “Seriously, what are the chances?”
“More importantly, why would Father Dennis think we’d want to do that?”
“I assume because he needs us. Didn’t he tell you?”
“Yeah. The rabbi and the abbot are both engaged elsewhere, and as he needs backup, he felt that because you believe in the unseen world?—”
“Unseen world?”
“I’m just repeating what he said.”
“It sounds so romantic,” I gushed.
“Well, because you believe, and as I apparently have a cool head on my shoulders, he feels that together, we could offer invaluable assistance.”
“It’s interesting, don’t you think?” I asked him, smiling. “A Catholic priest wants a gay couple along on an outing to a supposedly haunted cemetery. That’s really something.”
“It’s something all right.”
“Well, JJ had a sleepover last night, and they could see the graveyard from where they were, and they said they saw lots of lights out there. I bet those belonged to the paranormal investigators.”
“So they were in the graveyard fucking around. That’s fantastic.”
“Don’t be so grouchy.”
He scoffed.
“So we’re going to a cemetery tonight.”
“I am. I can talk to Father Dennis and help do whatever, but I think you should?—”
“No.”
“Xander,” he warned me, his voice dropping low.
“As if I would let you go alone.”
“And of course it has to be done when it’s dark because no one can ever check out anything creepy during the day,” he said, changing the subject.
I grinned at him.
“What?” he said, around a mouthful of muffin.
“You sound very cranky there, Chief MacBain.”
“It’s Saturday evening. I should be getting ready to barbecue.”
I sighed as he got up and walked over, taking a seat beside me. We sat there, quietly, shoulder to shoulder, neither of us saying a word.
“Short of tying you up, I don’t suppose you’d stay home.”
“You suppose right,” I confirmed, smiling at him. “And you tying me up would excite me so—then you’d have to stay too.”
“It would ease my mind to know you’re safe here.”
“Well, then call Father Dennis and let him know we will not be his backup tonight, and that we really hope he doesn’t meet up with anything scary this evening.”
His exhale was long. We both knew we’d never do that to our favorite priest.
Each in our thoughts, time crawled by.
“I need you to be careful,” he finally said, putting his arm around me, pulling me close.
“Same goes for you.”
“Kathy’s family had her body picked up by the funeral parlor this afternoon. The service is going to be next week.”
“We weren’t friends, but I’m sorry she died that way.”
“So am I,” he murmured. “Now before we go meet Father Dennis, I think you need to mix up a bag of whatever to take with us to the cemetery.”
I turned my head to look at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Everyone has been dead a long time out there, Lorne.”
“I don’t care about the dead people. I care about the demon walking around Osprey,” he declared. “So whatever you need to mix up, you go do, and as soon as you’re done, we’ll go get some dinner.”
“Mix up what?”
“I have no idea.” He kissed my cheek and stood up. “Maybe ask the cottage for some guidance and?—”
The wind that blew through the house smelled both grassy and faintly of orange and musk. I knew exactly what it was. “My grandmother’s rue blend,” I stated.
“Is that what that is?” Lorne asked, breathing in deeply. “What is rue?”
“It’s an herb that protects against spirits and bad magic and…demons.”
“Huh,” he replied with a smirk. “Imagine that.”
I groaned as I got up from beside him, then left the living room and walked into the sunroom, taking a moment to let the breeze blow around me.
“You like to stand in the wind,” Lorne said, smiling at me as he leaned on the frame of the archway.
“I do. It cleans me off,” I said, opening and closing drawers until I found a satchel with a flap. I put a small bottle of my grandmother’s rue-oil blend in, along with a jar of ground cardinal flowers, another of white wormwood, palmarosa oil, dried lavender, dried lemongrass, citronella, and cinnamon. I also packed lemon balm, ginger, and vetiver.
“I really think that should all be mixed up instead of you carrying all those with you,” Lorne insisted. “If something happens, you won’t have time to do what you did last night and mix up some magic in the air.”
I glared at him. “Some of these, like the palmarosa oil, I can’t grow in my herb garden and harvest myself. Amanda orders this for me, and it takes?—”
“And you’re worried if you don’t need it and mix it, then it was a waste.”
“Yes.”
“Well, guess what? I don’t care. We’ll get you some more, mix it now.”
“I really don’t think?—”
The door to the greenhouse suddenly slammed shut, which startled me enough to make me gasp.
As we both watched, it opened again—which it must have done moments ago without us noticing—and then banged closed a second time.
Lorne cleared his throat. “Yeah, the cottage would appreciate if you did what I said and made with the mixing.”
I could only stare at him.
“Always best to be prepared.”
Apparently, my home more than agreed.
Lorne crossed his arms. “G’head, I’ll wait.”
I got out my mortar and pestle and a small cauldron. Lorne seemed to enjoy the process, watching me hang the cauldron over the flame in the hearth, adding ingredients to boiling water, reducing it down, and then grinding that all up again; sprinkling in the rue and palmarosa oil, mixing again, and then finally pouring the new, finished oil into a bottle with a stopper with the final words, so mote it be . There wasn’t that much when done, perhaps four ounces, and when I passed it to Lorne, he did not appear impressed.
“What?”
“All that work for this much?”
“That’s a proper amalgam there,” I assured him. “And I don’t need to hose down the entire cemetery with this.”
His grunt did not sound in any way happy. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
“Why don’t you call Father Dennis and see if he wants to join us,” I offered.
“Because I don’t want to get invited to eat at the rectory ever again,” he grumbled. “Once was enough, thank you.”
“When did you eat there?”
“The first week I was here, Father Dennis kindly offered to have me over. I think he wanted to get to know me, which was nice.”
“But?” I prodded him.
“But Sister Andrea cannot cook at all . I wondered why there was a huge bottle of ketchup in the refrigerator, and I figured it out that night.”
“Maybe Father Dennis should learn to cook for himself.”
“Apparently, he makes a mean grilled cheese, but he used to be at a much bigger church, and there were several younger priests who worked under him, and the nuns there took really good care of all of them.”
“And here everyone feeds him and Sister Andrea, Sister Catherine, and Sister Maria.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, maybe all the sisters are busy. Just call him.”
Lorne begrudgingly made the call and was pleased to find out that everyone was gone except Father Dennis, who could, in fact, break bread with us. Before we left to pick him up, we told Argos where we were going and to please stay home. He regarded me blearily and went back to sleep.
Halfway there, Lorne pulled over on the side of the road.
“What’s happening?” I asked, turning in my seat to face him.
“I only wanted that potion mixed up because I want you to be ready if something attacks you and I can’t help.”
Seeing how miserable he looked, I rushed to reassure him. “I’ll be fine. Truly.”
He took hold of my hand. “You’ve told me before that you’re not powerful off Corvus, and that’s stuck in my head.”
“Yes, but I’m not completely helpless either,” I reminded him. “I’m a branded witch, after all. I can always fly home.”
“Okay,” he rasped, glancing away.
“Love.” When he didn’t react, I tried again. “Hey,” I said softly, and finally, those beautiful eyes of his were back on me. “I appreciate the worry, and it was smart to have the amalgam ready. Now let’s go get the priest so we can have a chat about demons.”
His brows furrowed as he continued to stare at me.
“I was going for upbeat.”
“Stop. Please.”
I tugged on his hand until he leaned over and kissed me. “Everything’s going to be all right,” I promised him.
“I appreciate the thought,” he said before kissing me again.
Lorne had put his uniform back on because he wanted to be at the cemetery in his official capacity in case anything strange happened. The “in case” was hysterical. It was a cemetery at night with a priest and paranormal investigators. Strange was a foregone conclusion. Regardless, he wanted to be both prepared and armed. This included his main weapon, his Glock 17, but also his backup, a SIG Sauer P320 Compact he carried in his ankle holster. Since we were riding in the police utility vehicle, there was also a rifle mounted in there. I didn’t think any of that was necessary, but on the other hand, I knew nothing about demons, so it might all prove useful. I knew more about defending Corvus than anything else, so I was already out of my depth.
Once we picked up Father Dennis and drove to the Bread that was obvious.
She slapped her hand over her mouth, and I gestured for Lorne to bring the unconscious woman over.
The two men followed Lorne, and once he sank down to one knee, with the others crowding around, I turned to the guy who’d been sprinkling the holy water, because he was the only one breathing normally.
“Are you the paranormal investigators who were supposed to meet with Father Dennis?”
He coughed, tried to speak without success, held up a finger, cleared his throat, and that time his voice came out in a raspy croak. “Yeah, that’s us. I’m Jeremy, and this is Liam,” he said, indicating the guy who was now bent over, panting. “This is Meijun, and the one who’s passed out is Shelby.”
“This is Father Dennis, I’m Xander, and this is Lorne MacBain, the chief of police.”
Jeremy tried valiantly to smile, managed to look at Lorne and Father Dennis, then returned his gaze to me.
“Good,” I sighed. “Now tell me, is Shelby clairvoyant?”
Meijun spoke up. “I thought—I mean, we all thought she had some gifts,” she said, sniffling loudly, “but we didn’t think she would react like this when we got here.”
“Why didn’t you wait for Father Dennis?”
“We didn’t think anything would happen. We were here last night, and everything was fine, though we did sense something, which is why we asked Father Dennis to meet with us tonight. We were hoping to get a sound bite with the priest for our documentary.”
I took a breath. “Did you take the cemetery tour with Oliver earlier in the week?”
All three nodded.
“And he told you that this entire area back here predates the town, yeah?”
“He did,” Jeremy confirmed. “And he also said that this part was where most spectral activity had been reported.”
“Which piqued your interest.”
“Yeah,” Liam said, glancing at Lorne and then back to me.
“Well, the part Oliver always leaves out is that most of the people back here died before they should have from disease. Others died because the people they trusted had no idea what to do during the winter, being so far from civilization.”
“Meaning what?” Meijun asked.
“Meaning they died of starvation or froze to death.”
“How horrible,” Liam said sadly, glancing at the headstones now visible because the drizzling had stopped, the clouds had parted, and we had a bright moon shining down on us. Amazing how different everything looked illuminated.
“It was, so you have to think that a lot of folks back here died terribly, and when you all come trampling through, the spirits you disturb are not going to be pleased.”
“Yes, but,” Meijun began, “the souls have moved on to either heaven or hell, so there aren’t any ghosts. That’s why we’re here. None of us believe in apparitions. We believe that what people call spirits are actually demons trying to trick people into giving up their souls.”
“What is with all this demon business?” Father Dennis asked irritably.
“You sound like you don’t believe in demons,” Jeremy said, his tone reproachful.
“That’s because I don’t. What I do believe is that something else altogether is going on here. But as I can’t say for certain what that is, and we do know that the cemetery is haunted, I’ll defer all this ghost business to my colleague.” He gestured to me.
I raised a brow. “Colleague?”
“Don’t be fresh,” he groused. “Answer the question.”
All eyes back on me.
“I believe that ghosts, like the ones here, remained on this plane instead of moving on because they were angry or sad or worried when they died, and those emotions were focused on people who were still alive. They stayed, and eventually the people they lingered for died too, and so their numbers grew.”
“This is not at all what I thought it was gonna be,” Meijun said shakily, glancing around.
“Over time, some ghosts stay, some go, but those that remain do so for specific reasons. And while a few stick around to protect their ancestors, watch over them, help where they can, others are angry and lash out and try and scare anyone who crosses their path. For the most part, back here, you have those who are not at peace.”
“What does that have to do with Shelby?”
“It’s because she’s so sensitive,” Liam chimed in. “Because she’s a true clairvoyant, the demons in this graveyard attacked her.”
I wanted to correct him, to say there were ghosts back here and nothing else, but clearly, he liked his narrative better than mine. The thing was, everyone in Osprey knew about the ghosts in this area of the cemetery. And there weren’t nearly as many as there used to be, dwindling every year as more and more crossed over and their descendants returned to lead them to their next incarnation. But there were still enough that if they were to find a clairvoyant in their midst, they would want to talk to her as well as through her. I suspected this was what happened—many, at once, trying to reach her. It had to be frightening, overwhelming, and I could only hope that death wasn’t something that scared Shelby. Being as I was raised a pagan, to revere nature, care for it, see the beauty of the circle of life, I myself didn’t see death as a conclusion, and therefore, had no fear.
The way my grandmother explained it, there was a mortal end and then a spiritual one. If you had lived your best life, you went to Summerland, where you waited to be reabsorbed into the great wheel of time. You were at peace before moving on, awakening in the gloaming where there were others you knew and loved. If you had perpetrated evil, purposely and with malice and intent, interrupted the cycle by taking lives, hurting any living being or the earth, then you went to a plane of nothingness. There one came face-to-face with the consequences of their actions on the mortal plane, and the soul was extinguished.
“Xan?” Lorne prodded, bringing me out of my thoughts.
When I turned to him, he looked down at Shelby, who was finally stirring in his arms.
“There aren’t any demons in this graveyard,” I told everyone as Shelby opened her eyes and looked up at the man I loved like he was the Second Coming. “But there are a lot of ghosts.”
At the word, Shelby turned to me. “Yes,” she agreed, nearly breathless. “I was drowning, and then there was light, and…thank you.”
“Can you speak to the ghosts here and let them know we’re leaving them to rest?” Lorne asked me.
I shook my head. “Not without putting my hands into the ground, like at home, but we don’t have any salt here, so I can’t protect myself while I do that, and opening myself up to all the spirits that lie here is?—”
“Stupid. Right?” He grinned at me.
He was such a grounding presence in my life, and I appreciated that so much. “Yes. Very.”
“Okay,” he announced, turning to the others, “you all need to get your stuff and?—”
A low snarl came from close by, startling me for the second time that night. Because shrieking and crying were one thing, but growling from the darkness near the trees was a whole other nightmare come to life.
“Get up,” Lorne ordered everyone, and I had to give it to him. He didn’t wait to see what would emerge to attack us, instead scrambling to his feet, lifting Shelby to hers, and right before he bolted, he glanced at me.
“I’m right behind you,” I promised.
“You better keep up, Xan,” he warned, then grabbed Shelby’s hand, yanking her forward, and ran. “You too, Father!”
“Come, children,” Father Dennis directed the paranormal team. “We must keep up with the chief.”
Everybody ran, and I was last because I had to be. Even without the power of my land, there was still some inherent power in me that would, I hoped, protect me. I wished for Argos but knew that, unlike me, he was smart enough to remain where he was safe when he sensed danger.
I thought of throwing the amalgam I’d made, but without first putting it in my hands and releasing it, the mixture wouldn’t do much. I needed to stand still and direct the protection and banishing magic, and right now there was no time.
The footfalls were heavy behind me, the ground soft and squishy from the earlier drizzle. Ahead of me, Jeremy went down, and Liam stopped and lifted his friend up enough for the other man to get his legs under him and run on. Shelby stumbled too, but Lorne scooped her up.
“I’m here,” I called out so he could keep his focus forward.
At the cobblestones, everyone’s speed increased, but so did the horror of hearing the creature—feet, talons, paws—knocking the stones around as it closed the distance. Lorne’s police car, parked on the road, was like a beacon of hope, and hearing the lock chirp loudly let me know he’d had the presence of mind to get it open for us. It was impressive to be so calm under life-and-death fear and pressure. And yet, getting in the car would take precious seconds we didn’t have.
Darting left, I felt hot breath on my back—the creature was following me. It made sense to go after the closest of us, and I slipped between gravestones, zigzagging around ones taller than me, and then smaller ones, feeling it close behind me, but because it was bigger, heavier, not as agile, it was having trouble getting a hold of me.