Haunted Moon (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #13)

Haunted Moon (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #13) Page 11

Delilah’s eyes grew wide. “Shit. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Hell, yes. Menolly might be Ivana’s special buddy, but we need to talk to her today.” I punched in Ivana’s number—we’d gotten it from Menolly, just in case we ever needed the wingnut army on our side.

One ring…five rings…and then on the sixth, she picked up.

“What do you want, Witch Girl?”

“How’d you know it was me?” I wasn’t surprised she knew. Given that it was Ivana, anything was possible. Especially things I really didn’t want to think about.

“How do you think? I have Caller ID, Witch. Now, what do you want?” Ivana sounded pissed, but I had the feeling it wasn’t at me. No, she sounded preoccupied and pissed.

“Ivana, I have a question. If you might answer, it would be considered…” I paused. When dealing with the Elder Fae, never, ever use the word favor or you’ll forever be in their debt. “I’m going to ask you a question. Answer if you like.”

“Not so dim, then? I was waiting for you to slip. But you remember your lessons, correct? Well, then, ask your question. The morning’s a loss anyway, and my beautiful garden stands in ruins.”

To my horror, huge sobs echoed through the line. What the fuck was I supposed to say to her now? There, there, I’m sorry your dungeon of horrors got trampled? Or whatever the hell had happened to it. And by the way…what had happened to it?

“Ivana, were you out in the graveyards gathering spirits last night and this morning?” I knew it wasn’t the appropriate way to phrase it—there was a whole song-and-dance the Elder Fae went through, but right now we just needed information, and I wasn’t feeling all that much like waltzing.

A long silence, then…“Witch, you are rudeness incarnate. But since I like your sister—the Dead Girl—I will answer you. No, I was not out rummaging through the boneyards. I was fighting off some unseen force that emptied my garden of ghosts.”

I stared at my phone. What the fuck? “Ivana, you said your garden of ghosts was…”

“Gutted. Sucked dry. Gone, just like the days when bright meat was easy to come by and humans weren’t so squeamish about the gifts they offered us to keep our tricks and taunts at bay.” She sighed, as if an era of beauty had passed by.

“Give it a break. You know what Menolly told you—no bright meat! No babies!” I wasn’t squeamish about much, but Ivana wasn’t joking and neither was I. There were plenty of creatures who relished young flesh, with a side of steak sauce. Trying to wipe away the mental image that conjured up, I continued before she could protest. “Ivana, I want to come look at your garden. I’m trying to figure out what’s stealing the spirits around Seattle—and why.”

Delilah motioned to me frantically. No! she mouthed, but I turned away and pretended not to see her.

Ivana hesitated, then cackled. “It has been a long day since I had a visitor, but yes, child. Come visit me, by all means. But do not bring an army. Only four others may accompany you.”

I mentally raced through who would be the most effective if she turned nasty. “Fine…how do we get to your home?”

“The portal in Tangleroot Park? I’ll be waiting on the other side. I’ll configure it. And from there, we will travel to my home. I will not tell you how to get to my home by the normal route. You half-breed girls, you are from the other side. You are not ancient Fae. At the end of one of your hours, meet me there.” And then she hung up. I put my phone away and looked up.

It was obvious Delilah had overheard the conversation.

She erupted like Vesuvius on steroids. “Are you fucking insane? She’ll lead us into a trap and eat us. Or worse.” Shuddering, she held herself, rocking back and forth. “I’m not that squeamish anymore, but she’s a total freak and she scares the hell out of me.”

Chase cleared his throat. “I have to agree with Delilah. Not a good plan. Really, just…not. I’m glad I’ve got a good excuse not to join you.” He pointed to his leg. “Foot. Hurts. Can’t walk far. Really.”

“Right, and I’ve got some swampland to sell you.” I flashed him a snarky look. “Fine, I’ll let you out of this one. But we’re going. She’s expecting us. I’ll put in a call to Morio, Smoky, and Shade. They’re most likely to be able to help us corral her if we have to. Meanwhile, Delilah, why don’t you run down to the cafeteria and grab us something.”

Shaking her head, my sister marched out of the room. She looked pissed. I prayed that she and Chase weren’t right, and that this wasn’t the biggest mistake of my day. And I really didn’t want to listen to a bunch of I-told-you-sos.

As I punched the End Call button, my ears were ringing. Smoky had not been pleased. I had the feeling he’d be showing his displeasure come the next available chance. Over the months, I’d discovered that my dragon had a fetish for spanking. He never took it into painful territory, but he liked playing the big bad dragon, and whenever I really crossed the line, he gave me a good licking. And then he’d fuck me till I was spinning with orgasms.

Come to think about it, maybe going to see Ivana had its pluses.

Once we arrived at Tangleroot Park, we sat on a bench near where a rogue portal had opened up some time back.

During the Great Divide, the Elder Fae Lords had ripped the worlds apart. For thousands of years, the division had been sealed by the spirit seals. But the separation was unnatural. Now, as the spirit seals made their way to the surface again, the fabric of space and time surrounding the portals was breaking down. Rogue portals, unable to be controlled, were appearing. They were unstable and could lead to disaster.

Aeval had attempted to close the rogue portal, but it refused any attempts, and each time it activated, we never knew where the destination would be. Finally, we’d stationed several Earthside Fae to watch over it, and Aeval cast an illusion spell to keep the FBHs from seeing it.

“I can’t believe it’s not even eleven A.M. and we’re going to portal-hop over to Ivana’s for tea and a stroll through her ghost garden. Damned Chase and his broken ankle.” Delilah snorted. “He got off easy.”

Smoky leaned down on my left side and whispered into my ear. “Your sister is right. This is truly one of the most reckless ideas you’ve ever had. And later on, I’ll show you just how reckless.” His hair tickled my arm, tracing a sensuous line down it. I shivered and he laughed, low and throaty.

Just then, the portal shifted. I stepped in front of it, and Smoky, Morio, and Shade stood beside me.

“Oh brother, here we go.” Delilah, rolling her eyes, joined us.

As the flicker of energy grew, opening out into a vortex, I heard Ivana’s voice from the other side.

“Witch Girl, hurry up. Don’t dawdle.” As always, Ivana gave me the creeps. She was so far from human that even the timbre of her voice made me nervous. But she was what she was, and the Elder Fae were part of my heritage.

As I approached the portal, I sucked in a deep breath. Since this had been my idea, I was going first. If there were traps on the other side, I didn’t want the others to get hit by them. I glanced at Morio, who gave me a nod, and plunged through the veil of energy.

Unlike the portals set up by the spirit seals, rogue portals were wild and feral, and their energy shifted constantly. I’d been through this one several times, and the first two times, the energy had sucked me in, called to me like a siren song. This time, I found myself passing through a wind tunnel. I shivered, freezing as I struggled to walk against the raging winds. They howled, twisting my hair and buffeting me so much that my ears were beginning to hurt.

Finally, just as I was ready to chuck the whole thing and head back, a light shimmered up ahead, and there was Ivana, peering through the vortex on the other end. Her odd, birdlike face was covered with gnarls and bumps that might have been warts, but I didn’t want to get close enough to find out. She reminded me of a demented bag lady, but I also knew that was simply a disguise. The Elder Fae cloaked themselves under layers of illusion, and unless they chose to reveal themselves, it was almost impossible to ferret through to see the real being beneath the masks.

She waved for us to hurry and, with a gulp and a prayer that I hadn’t made a serious mistake, I leaped out of the vortex, through the crackling veil of power, to land on solid ground.

As I stepped out of the way to allow the others to come through behind me, I was startled to find that I was standing in a vast garden filled with marigolds and primroses and peonies, as well as numerous tombstones that were weathered and aged. The garden—at least a double lot in size—sat behind a charming cottage.

The house was very Cape Cod, relatively large considering the style, and a white picket fence surrounded the entire lot. Beyond the fence, a ravine led into a patch of woods. Although there were electricity lines hooked up to the house, when I tried to gauge where we were, I had the feeling we’d left Seattle far behind.

“It’s lovely.” I inhaled deeply. The air here was clean, though I thought I could still sense a hint of city pollution.

“What did you expect? A gingerbread house and a trail of bread crumbs?”

I started to answer but decided that sometimes, silence was golden. Shrugging, I looked around at the tombstones, wondering who the hell they belonged to.

Ivana hoisted her staff—a silver branch about three feet long—and jabbed it toward the garden. “My garden. I had collected over a hundred ghosts here yesterday morning. Now…” Her voice dropped and a look of sadness veiled her eyes. “Now, they’re all gone. All my lovely ghosts, gone.”

Not sure of how to respond, I just stood there. Yes, Ivana tortured them and made their spirit lives hell, but considering they were the worst of the worst—the angry ghosts, the hungry ghosts who tormented humans, I found myself conflicted.

Shade glanced around at the yard. “What the hell do you keep them here for, anyway?”

I blinked. One simply did not speak to the Elder Fae like that, but then again, he was half dragon, and dragons generally said whatever they wanted to. Ivana regarded him, a nasty crease in her brow, then chuckled.

“You really want to know, Master Dragon? I milk their anger and hatred, and from that delicious brew, I create magic.” She leaned in toward him, and the blur that continually surrounded her form seemed to grow taller. “Do you wish to know what I do with that magic?”

He regarded her quietly, then shook his head. “No, Maiden of Karask. I think none of us wants to know.” He knelt down by one of the headstones that had been knocked over. “You had them firmly bound here, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “Why? What sayeth you, Prince of Bones?”

He touched the stone, and a faint violet light filtered out from his fingertips, sizzling as it came into contact with the granite. “The ghosts were ripped violently from your garden. Plucked like unripe carrots, not ready to come out of the earth yet.” Slowly standing, he dusted his hands on his pants.

“These ghosts…they did not go willingly. Whatever harvested them sucked them out without warning. I’m not even sure if they exist anymore, not as the spirits they were. I believe the consciousness of these creatures is gone. Our enemies were after the energy that kept them active.”

“You mean, somebody killed the ghosts?” I asked, cocking my head.

“Yes, that would be one way to phrase it. Whatever or whoever stole these ghosts harvested them for their essence, and, in doing so, destroyed their conscious selves. They stole the life force that propelled the ghosts.”

Delilah let out a gasp. “Like when the Death Maidens have to cast a soul into oblivion.”

Shade nodded. “Yes, except for one thing. Death Maidens return the energy to the central pool, to be cleansed and reborn anew. Whatever took the ghosts is keeping the energy for its own use. It fed on them.”

Ivana let out an irritated grumble.

As I stared at her garden, the scope of what we were facing started to settle in. Whatever was cleaning out the boneyards was strong enough to destroy a hundred spirits at a time and to harvest their energy and send the souls spiraling into oblivion. We knew Gulakah was huge and powerful, but the fact that he was a god was beginning to ramrod itself through my thoughts.

Morio motioned to me. “Let’s see if we can get anything off the tombstones.”

“Psychometry? I’ve never been extremely good with that.” I wasn’t good at just touching an object to find out about its background or the people who owned it. Unless the Demonkin had been in possession of it, and then I could sense their energy.

“No, but with my help, we might be able to strengthen that part of you.”

He took my hand, his fingers curling around my own, and the feel of his skin was like smooth satin. I kissed his fingers and closed my eyes, and he moved his hands to rest on my shoulders.

I slowly let out a long breath and quickly sank into trance. As I slid deeper into the whirling darkness, Morio’s breathing registered, pacing my own. And then the beating of his heart mirrored mine.

“Can you hear me?” Morio’s thoughts came through. Or perhaps he was whispering—I couldn’t tell at this point.

“Yes, love. What do you wish me to do now?”

Unless we were working with Moon magic, I let Morio lead. He was my teacher in this dark realm. He knew how to navigate the currents of death magic without letting them sweep him away. I trusted him.

“Kneel down, and with your left hand, touch the tombstone in front of us. Let your mind embrace the form and shape and feel. Open to any impressions that might come through.”