I slowly turned my head and then peeled my eyes away from Aideen to stare up at the dead werewolf.
“Carter,” I said. “You have impeccable timing.”
He was the old Alpha of the River Pack, though it hadn’t been known as the River Pack while he still breathed. He was still five eight or nine with a light covering of beard and a strong chin. His eyes had once blazed with a huge sunburst iris rimmed in black, but now were shades of gray with the faint yellow glow of his soul. He’d been killed in battle with the Destroyer, but when I’d used his soul and the soul of his wife as a weapon, there were unanticipated consequences.
“How have you been ignoring me?” Carter asked. “You’ve never been able to do that before.” He sounded impressed, and looked annoyed.
“Carter!” Foster said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Nice pants,” said another familiar voice.
I looked up from the floor and found Maggie perched on the bed. I am fairly certain I turned several shades of red. Maggie was petite, with short gray hair that had been silver in life. Her once-green wolf eyes now stared out in grays and blacks. I sighed and kicked my pants off the rest of the way.
Maggie let out a little chuckle.
“So?” Carter said. “How?”
“Zola taught me a meditation trick, cuts off the ghosts for a bit. It’s not usually that effective. It probably has something to do with this place.” I held up my hand as I said, “Speaking of how, how did you two just appear in here? This place is guarded against ghosts.”
“Not exactly,” Carter said. “There are still many ghosts here, but it’s more like they are guarded from you, from necromancers.”
I picked myself up and walked toward the bathroom door all dignified-like.
Maggie gave me a little wolf whistle and I felt a blush crawl over my face again.
The tub was just about full, so I dumped in a little extra bubble bath and then slid into the hot water. I was relieved to have a nice covering of bubbles. I heard Maggie and Aideen laughing about something in the bedroom before both the fairies glided into the bathroom. Foster landed on the right side of me and Aideen settled on the edge of the tub to my left. I kept my focus squarely on Carter.
“To what do we owe the honor?” I asked.
“We can help,” Carter said.
I shook my head. “No. Philip’s here. Maybe Ezekiel.”
“Not to mention a slew of other necromancers,” Foster said.
“We already fought a blood mage, in downtown Saint Charles,” Aideen said. “Who knows what they’ll bring here.”
“Shit,” Carter said. “I understand your concern, but the Ghost Pack won’t stand by and do nothing.”
“Nothing?” I said. “How many pack members have you already dragged out of the Burning Lands?” Hugh had told me of the raids into the realm of fire. Something was attacking the dead wolves, dragging them into other planes of existence where they should never set foot. “I’ve heard the demons of the Burning Lands fear you.”
“They damn well should,” Maggie growled as her aura flared into a golden light. “They’ve crossed the line, stealing the pure, damning the innocent. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
“It’s getting worse?” I asked.
Carter nodded. “They’ve been taking kids. We found a six-year-old girl in the caves of the eighth circle this week.”
“No,” Aideen said, and that one word held a terrible fury. A fury to match my own. The demons had taken to calling their prisons ‘circles.’
“Why?” I asked. “Why would they do that? They killed her?”
Maggie nodded. “Vicky annihilated the demon that did it. It was a minor demon, but she destroyed it utterly.”
“Vicky?!” I said. “What the hell was Vicky doing there? How did she …? I mean, bloody hell!” I’d read many things about the Burning Lands. The Society of Flame thought it was the realm hell was based on in so many religions. So much so its inhabitants were labelled demons, monsters the Fae used in their own children’s tales. It was no place for Vicky to be. It was no place for any of us to be.
“Is she okay?” Foster asked, the concern bare in his voice.
“You know she’s changed,” Carter said.
“She’s been changing since we saved her,” Foster said quietly.
“We didn’t save her,” I growled. “We were too late for that.”
“You did as much as anyone could have possibly done,” Aideen said.
I took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. “But what is she becoming? I feel like she’s my responsibility, but Happy and Aeros take care of her. I should be doing more, guiding her somehow.” My thoughts turned to one of the only secrets I’ve ever kept from Sam. Zola thought Happy and Aeros had both given Vicky powers, enhanced whatever gifts she would have had in life.
“She’s a wrecking crew,” Carter said. “Maybe she’ll be a new Guardian, like Aeros?”
I nodded, but what I was really thinking was that Aeros isn’t a Guardian. He’s an Old God. What the hell happens when Old Gods grant powers to mortal ghosts?
“Bloody hell,” I muttered.
Foster cursed in agreement and then slipped into the water. He propped himself up on a little ledge a few inches down the side of the tub, his arms thrown back along the top edge. The bubbles came up to his chest. He motioned to Aideen, and I was thankful she decided to walk behind me, and not glide across my field of view.
“You can use us,” Carter said. “The soulsword can slay a demon, not banish it, but kill it. It should be more than enough to kill a few necromancers.”
“No, I’m not doing that to you again. We don’t know what it does to you two. Against Prosperine, yes. But now? We don’t even know what you are.”
Carter shrugged. “Does it matter? If we are mortal or not, we can still be killed by demons, and we can still fight back.”
“I do wonder if you are mortal,” Aideen said as Foster wrapped his arm around her. “I wouldn’t think so, but I’ve never heard of souls being forged with so much power. We don’t know if you’re aging or not.”
“She has a point,” I said. “I can’t even tell if you have any more gray hair now.”
“I’m a ghost,” Carter said. "All my hair is gray.”
Maggie grinned and sat down on the closed toilet seat near the tub. “Damian, Carter and I are together. How many people can say that after getting murdered by an immortal demon?”
“Two?” I said nonchalantly. “Although the demon doesn’t seem very immortal now.”
She smiled. “You’ve given us more than we ever thought possible. Dying did not change who we are, we still fight for the River Pack. Even if something were to happen to us now, we know how lucky we’ve been to be together for a little while longer.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I said. “No.”
Foster and Aideen both laughed.
“He’s pretty stubborn,” Foster said.
“Fine,” Carter said, “but promise me you’ll talk to Zola and Edgar. Find a way for us to help.”
“I will.”
Carter nodded and held his hand out to Maggie. He pulled her up and they walked out through the doorway.
“Still using doors?” I asked.
“Occasionally,” Carter said. He whispered to Maggie and then they both leapt through the outer wall, three stories above the ground.
“Okay,” I said. “I have to admit that’s pretty cool.” I yawned and wiped a line of sweat from my forehead.
Foster slid out into the currents of the whirlpool jets. He was flat on his back, wings cutting through the water as the ripples and whorls spun him around the tub and sent him careening into a bank of bubbles. He was upside down when he briefly resurfaced on the other side of the tub before vanishing once more in the torrent of water.
Aideen sighed as she watched Foster come spinning out of the bubbles like a white water rafter. “It’s getting warm.”
Before I could fully register what had happened, Aideen flopped onto my shoulder. I locked my gaze on the light switch across the room and didn’t move my eyes. Water sprayed my face as she beat her wings to get them dry. She readjusted herself and began casually wringing the water from her hair.
“It is warm,” Foster said as he climbed out of the water and took up residence on my other shoulder.
“Are there tiny balls on my shoulder? Seriously?”
Foster and Aideen both stopped shaking the water from their wings.
“Damian Valdis Vesik,” Foster said as he stood up on my shoulder. “Fae cannot abide such dire insults. I accept your challenge. Aideen, bring me my sword!”
“Umm, Foster?” I said as I leaned my head away from the naked, enraged fairy.
Aideen broke down in a fit of muffled hysterics and I cast her a sideways glance. She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
I turned my head back to Foster. “Pfff, tiny.”
“You thought he was serious,” Aideen said when she finally caught her breath. “You should have seen your face!” She flashed Foster a huge smile and started braiding her hair.
“Okay,” I said as I turned my head toward Foster. “I’m out. It’s getting late and I’m actually tired.”
“That’s good,” Foster said as they both climbed off my shoulders. “Maybe you can get a little sleep before your shift comes up.”
“Sounds nice,” I said. “Is that your subtle cue for me to get out?” I stood up slowly, deliberately sticking my ass out toward the fairies.
“Nudd blind me!” Foster shouted.
“Now where’d that towel go,” I said as I slowly scooped up a folded terrycloth towel and wrapped it around my waist. “You two enjoy the tub. I’m going to get some sleep.” I turned and started to walk away.
“Damian?” Aideen said.
“Yup?”
“Nice ass.”
I shook my head as Foster burst into laughter and cannonballed back into the water. I walked over to my luggage and pulled out some clean boxers and a Double D t-shirt, Frank’s idea. I turned off the lamp, dove into the bed, and was shocked at how comfortable it was. It was my last thought before sleep rose up to take me. It didn’t last nearly long enough.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“H
ey, Demon. Wake up!”
I cracked my eye and was ready to reduce my sister to a sparking mass of rubble, the most common fate for irritating alarm clocks in my life.
“How did you get in here?” I mumbled.
“Don’t know. The door opened up for me. Cool, huh?”
“Super,” I said as I buried my head in my pillow. “I love you Sam, but I have to kill you now.”
“That’s cute, are you wearing clothes?”
“Yes, why?” The why trailed off into a yelp as Sam picked me up under my arms and stood me beside the bed. She held on until I managed to get my legs halfway stable. I groaned as the room spun and stars swam in my vision. “I hate you.”
“The innkeeper made breakfast. Let’s get some food before we take our shift.”
“You’re taking a day shift?” I said as I pulled my jeans on.
“Yes, Vassili wants at least one vampire on watch during the day. I’ll still have better eyes than you, even in the sun.”
I shrugged as I tied my boots. “Not arguing. Need coffee.”
“How in the hell does your hair look that good right out of bed?”
I flashed Sam a grin and leaned over to look in the mirror. A bit scruffy, but my black hair stood up in artful clumps. The circles under my eyes were surprisingly small, but they still stood out over the pale skin.
Sam put her hand out toward the diagonal line of four slashes a vampire had given me, ripped across my left bicep. It trailed down my chest and over my stomach. Foster had offered to heal the burned skin of my right shoulder, but I’d declined. His idea was to cut all the scar tissue off and heal it again. Thanks, but no.
I sighed and pulled my black shirt on before strapping the pepperbox holster back to my chest and covering that with a black fleece.
“Going all Johnny Cash today?” Sam asked.
“Don’t I always?”
“I guess your jeans are a bit more charcoal than black,” Sam said, and her voice seemed almost gleeful in my coffee-deprived state.
“Shut up,” I said with a small smile as I led her into the hall.
“Morning,” Mike said as he closed his door and joined us.
“Don’t talk to him yet. No coffee,” Sam said in a loud whisper.
I narrowed my eyes in a vain attempt to stop her giggling. “Did you see Foster and Aideen when you came in?”
“Yep, I hear you had problems staring at Aideen’s tits.”
I groaned and hung my head as we clumped down the stairs.
“Don’t feel bad,” Sam said. “I wanted to jump Foster something fierce the first time I saw him naked.”
“Ah,” Mike said. “I’m not sure where this conversation is going, but I might like to be elsewhere.”
“Sam,” I said, ignoring Mike for the moment. “Yeah, she’s attractive and all—”
“Attractive?” Sam said with a snort. “Do you find Nixie
attractive?
Please, the Fae are effing hot.”
Mike and I both burst into laughter.
“Touché,” I said. “Well played, madam.”
“I speak the truth.”
I gave Mike a quick glance. He grinned. Not a little grin, but a full on demon full of mischief grin. I laughed and walked into the dining room shaking my head.
“Laughter before coffee?” Zola said as she sipped at her own mug. “These people are obviously a bad influence on you.” She gestured to the seat beside her at the table for four, and I almost pounced on the oversized black mug. It was more like a soup bowl.
I sipped at it, winced as I burned my lips, and then sipped at it some more before setting it down on the white lace table cloth and looking around. I watched Mike as he took another mug from the innkeeper and walked past another marble fireplace adorning the north wall. White wooden trim outlined the windows and formed the baseboards. A hutch set into the wall beside the doorway to the kitchen rattled as the fire demon passed it. It was filled with old glasses protected behind a sliding glass door.
“About time,” the innkeeper said as she followed Mike in from the kitchen. “I’ve been keeping this warm for you three.”
“Is Dad not on our shift?” Sam asked as she pulled out the chair opposite Zola.
Mike sat down across from me.
“Dimitry is on no one’s shift,” Zola said. “As long as he sleeps, we leave him be.”
“He’ll be grumpy if you don’t wake him up,” I said.