Chapter 10
“We have to end this bitch, now!” Cold steel bore into Jasper as Savi shoved him in the chest until his back collided with the barn wall.
He understood her fury and pain. Having Casper the Friendly Ghost mess with her was one thing. A low-level demon, another story. But a full-on Goddess of the Dead wreaking havoc on her life and those she cared about was the extreme breaking point.
Jasper had tangled with about every entity and cryptid known to man and many more. Fighting demons was his day job. But how to vanquish Manea posed a much larger mystery. And they were running out of time to solve it.
“I know how you feel…”
“Don’t you even start with that crap.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “No, you don’t know how I feel. You haven’t had your family and friends under assault, injured and possibly dying because some bitch demon or goddess or whatever decided to pick on you. You haven’t had a demon skulk inside your skin. I have no clue what other damage she may have caused by using my body and my abilities. You do not understand!”
The fierceness of her tone triggered his fight or flight response. It was one of the few times his first reaction was to flee. The other being when Manea had done just what Savi said—possessed her.
But he stood tall and took the brunt of her fury. It was the least he could do, after all she’d endured. Yes, he could counter that he knew quite well how it felt to have his family and friends attacked by all manner of nefarious entities, but that wouldn’t ease her suffering or calm her anger. Instead, he let her vent until the fire ebbed in her eyes.
Breathless from her ranting, Savannah’s expression softened, and a tear streamed down her cheek. “I don’t care what I have to do, but I will kill Manea for what she’s done. Just tell me what to do. I’ll do it.” Her lips trembled as she uttered her vow.
Without thought, Jasper’s hand came up to brush away the tear from her face and lingered a little too long. Visions of what else he’d love to do—kiss the tears away, kiss her sensual mouth until they were both panting for more, and so many other inappropriate thoughts—filled his mind. Instead, he grabbed her hand, and they walked toward the brightening glow of the sun peeking over the low hills to the east.
He’d been racking his brain for a solution that didn’t involve killing the host the next time Manea possessed someone, especially if that someone was Savi. A dangerous strategy had been formulating, but apprehension had kept him from saying anything until he had evaluated all other alternatives.
Suddenly, his ass vibrated, startling him like a cat when someone stepped on its tail. Savannah’s burst of laughter sent a wave of soothing energy through him. Jasper reached behind him and pulled out his neglected phone.
Great. Still got my phone, but no damn clue where my dagger is!
It was a short, but disturbing text from his professor friend, Thomas—who was supposed to be keeping tabs on his protégée guardian, Greylyn. He had been hesitant to leave her last time, knowing full well that she was on the cusp of something more deadly than a chaos goddess running rampant through a rodeo crew.
G gone dark again. Should I be worried?
Well, that could mean one of two things—either she’d finally killed that bastard dark guardian and was privately sulking because Jasper knew she had a thing for Kael; or the two of them were getting much too close for his comfort.
But it was the last thing he needed to allow to distract him now. Savi, and everyone in this quaint little rodeo get-up, were in dire trouble. He’d hash out what to do about Greylyn after he vanquished Manea.
He quickly pecked back a response, then put the phone away.
“Somewhere else you need to be, Jasper?” Savannah’s voice trembled slightly.
He honestly couldn’t tell if that was fear or resentment brewing in her eyes.
“Nope.”
Without an explanation, he grabbed her hand and pulled her the rest of the way to the far end of the property. A bubbling brook separated it from what looked like a field of soybeans.
Flowing water was calming, and it was an excellent conductor of spiritual energies. Since Manea was the goddess of ghosts, he had deemed it was worth a shot to ask them what they knew.
He crouched down by the stream to remove his boots and motioned for Savannah to do the same. They found a large boulder just big enough for them both to sit down, allowing their bare feet to dangle in the chilly water. From this perspective, the canopy of the trees lining the tiny creek kept them in the shadows with only a twinkle of light playing on the water’s surface.
“You remember those meditations I taught you?” he asked.
She answered by kicking water up to splash him in the face. “Of course.”
“Well,”—he wiped his face—“this is going to be somewhat similar but instead of cleansing the area of negative energies, we’re going to call in whatever wayward souls still wander this land.”
“We’re going to do what?” Her blue eyes widened, and she jerked her hand away. “You’re trying to add to our problems. One entity at a time, thank you.”
He chuckled. She was spiritually endowed with great gifts, but he could see how calling on the dead could still freak her out a bit. Not everyone was comfortable with mediumship.
“We need their help to find out what the big bad entity is up to. She’s the Goddess of the Dead, is she not? It would seem the dead may have some insight that could help us. Just because a spirit still roams the earth, does not mean he or she is evil.” He hoped he didn’t need to go into a full explanation of lost souls and such.
Thankfully, Savannah granted him a reluctant nod. “I know, but… it doesn’t make it any less scary.”
He leaned over to press a reassuring kiss to her forehead. “I will protect you, Savannah. With every breath in my body, I will keep you safe.” Even Jasper was astounded at the sincerity in his words. He knew, deep down, that it was the truth. He also knew he shouldn’t feel this protective of her. It went beyond his usual guardian-angel-bodyguard-extraordinaire oath.
An owl—not yet ready to cede the day to the sun—hooted with two short, deep hoo sounds followed by a long hoooooo that eerily echoed through the trees. Goosebumps prickled Jasper’s skin. The temperature had dipped enough for him to realize it wasn’t just because they were under the shade of the trees, and it was early morning. This was different, but also familiar.
Savannah rubbed her hands together. He could see her breath swirl as she exhaled. He glanced down at the water. The edges of the creek bed had frozen over with tiny crystals of ice jutting farther out into the smooth flowing water.
He had believed they’d both need to meditate to call in the spirits, but the spirits were already there, waiting.
No sounds filled this place—not the wind, nor the bubbling of the water over the rocks. Even the owl knew enough to silence his call. Savannah gasped and pointed upstream.
A gray mist floated over the water toward them. It had no shape to it, but also no source for its creation. It just was. The air surrounding them had gone from a muggy morning dew to the crispness of being high in the Himalayan Mountains. What approached them was not of this world—perhaps never had been—and there was no indication of whether they were here to help or harm.
Goosebumps raced up Jasper’s arms. He didn’t like not knowing what he was about to face.
He reached out his hand to calm Savannah when her breaths became ragged. The color of her aura had changed from a lovely turquoise of confidence and empowerment to a darker crimson outlined in a deep gray, indicating fear.
He’d dealt with earthbound ghosts, as well as those who had ascended to the higher heavenly realms but could cross dimensions when called upon or when they just wanted to check on a family member or friend. Some roamed between all realms as spirit guides. Those earthbound were the ones that most paranormal ghost hunting reality shows exploited. For whatever reason, these souls did not cross over to be reunited with loved ones and to heal in preparation for their soul’s next mission. Jasper remembered being shocked at just how many stayed behind—their spirits feeding off the depression, anger, fear, and other low vibration energies that transformed them into the entities of which horror films were made.
Thankfully, he sensed an unstable peace coming from the floating fog as it neared them. The energies of many spirits morphed together in one big cloud that grew denser the closer it came to them. A rumbling sound, low at first, grew. Not quite a humming noise. He could almost make out chanting, but the words were undecipherable.
Jasper glanced over at Savannah. Her eyes were as round as teacup saucers, her mouth hung open, and her entire body shook. The aura around her body had simply vanished. That usually didn’t happen unless someone was dead.
Jasper squeezed her wrist, equally checking for a pulse and hoping to break through the paralysis that had overcome her. “It’s okay, Savi. They’re here to help us.” At least he hoped so.
His brow furrowed. He had spoken the words, but somehow no sound had been emitted.
He leaned over to peer into Savannah’s eyes.
His hand caressed her cheek, then tucked a stray strand of her white hair behind her ear—the simplest human touch that was intended to pull her back to the moment and out of her fear. Finally, she blinked. Her mouth clamped shut. Still trembling, she nodded to let him know she was better.
“That’s my girl. Don’t be afraid.” Simple words, but they had no time for him to explain all the specifics of why she should not fear the spirit world.
The fog swept in and stopped in front of them, seeming to pulse. It took no other form, even though Jasper’s guardian angel sight could just make out the faint outlines of several different energy sources. He suspected there were at least twenty or more spirits in the cloud.
“Hau.” A traditional greeting of the Lakota Sioux tribe—one Jasper had not heard in at least a century. It was spoken so softly that his ears barely registered the sound.
Jasper bowed his head, placing one fist over his heart. “Hau.”
That was about all the language he knew though, other than “Wayá?hi ya?hi? he?” But he didn’t think it would be an appropriate question—to ask someone would you like to dance with me—at this time.
He stared at the mist for a few moments, then decided to try good old American English and hope the spirit world was more adept at languages than he was.
“We need your help.”
The mist retreated to the other side of the tiny stream, hovering above the frozen rocky shore.
Okay, English isn’t going to work. Maybe they consider it a dishonor to address them this way.
A giggle from his left side startled him. Savi was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“What’s so funny? You think you can do better?” He quipped.
She winked at him, then turned to address the spectral mist in perfect Lakota. He had no idea what she was saying, but the cloud drew closer and morphed until he could make out the outline of fifty or more people standing within it.
Most were dressed in rugged leathers, buckskin shirts, and moccasins. Others were outfitted in jeans, button-down plaid flannel shirts, and boots. In the center—standing in front of all the others—was an older man with long white hair flowing down to the middle of his torso, wearing the hide of a buffalo around his shoulders, and a headdress of antlers intermixed with twelve large feathers. Jasper suspected this was the spirit of a Lakota shaman who would speak for everyone gathered, since he was the only one currently interacting with Savannah.
He still had no clue what they were saying. By the way the shaman huffed in his direction, it could be bad. A couple of times, Savi said, “Owáka?ni?e ?ni”—which if he recalled correctly, was akin to I do not understand.
Jasper’s gaze flew from Savannah to the mist and back. He was in awe of her—beautiful, intelligent, excellent equestrian, amazing lover, psychic who not only spoke to animals but also to the dead, even if the conversation was in another language. Her back was straight as a rod without appearing rigid or fearful. She smiled and even laughed a couple of times. It was the iridescent gleam of her eyes that completely took his breath away.
The discussion went on for quite a while. The dampness of the boulder they sat on seeped through his jeans. He was uncomfortable physically and mentally anxious for what the spirits were telling Savannah. Hopefully, she could glean the information they needed to defeat Manea.
The shaman eventually grunted with a curt nod of his head. Savannah bowed her own and said, “Philámayaye.” Thank you. The mist rumbled, contorted, and then evaporated into the air. Remaining tendrils could be seen to fly up through the treetops, all the way to the brightening sky above.
Savannah turned to him, then leaned over to kiss him fully on the mouth—not a sensual, seductive kiss, but not a chaste one, either. When she pulled back, another giggle escaped her parted lips. Joy shone from her face. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Jasper had never seen her so happy. And—he readily admitted to himself—he was jealous that he was not the reason for her newfound bliss.
“We’re going to tear that bitch Manea apart so bad; she’ll never be able to reincarnate on this plane of existence ever again.”