Entombed Page 13

What did it take to pull an egomaniac down a few pegs? Apparently, an army of ghosts.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marin lurked by the crypt entrance, watching. She didn’t seem distressed, so Jack could only hope that meant the ward was still intact.

  Yes, Jack. The ward is still here. They used more than one death to fuel it.

  Disturbing-comforting. Not feelings that usually commingled for him.

  Watching the terror that Nate demonstrated as the ghosts wrestled him ever closer to the crypt, Jack had to wonder why he hadn’t tried to manipulate one of the key players, Iris or Abi. Kaisermann was likely protected by Sally, and he and Marin were immune.

  “Marin, do you think there’s any chance Nate could manipulate anyone at this stage of the game?”

  Abi had hold of Jack’s arm to steady him, and she squeezed a little tighter. “Don’t worry. It’s all me in here. If he was messing with me, I’d have finished you off when you were helpless on the ground before.”

  “Good point,” Jack said.

  Requires too much concentration. He can’t physically attack you, defend against my nifty new steam bath, or wrestle with ghosts while simultaneously trying to screw with someone’s head.

  “We really need to write up a report on aswangs after this mess is over. We’ve got to be the foremost experts in the world by now. Speaking of expertise, now that we know human liver is a tasty aswang treat, how about you explain why he thought a dragon would share his preferences. I thought you guys didn’t eat people?”

  Marin didn’t respond. Jack had been distracted from the spectacle above primarily because his brain was working at about a third of capacity. But in those few seconds, the spectacle had dropped and Nate was being dragged into the tomb.

  Jack was in no fit state to follow them inside. If something went wrong, he’d be an easy target. So he strained his ears, waiting for the scraping noise of stone on stone as the tomb was moved to cover the hole.

  Marin changed forms and then slid, naked and human, into the crypt. Seconds later, Jack heard it, the sound of Nate’s prison door closing.

  Marin came out immediately. She looked…sad. Kaisermann met her with a blanket he’d pulled from Abi’s SUV. She wrapped it around herself and tucked it so it would stay in place. She and Kaisermann joined Jack and Abi.

  Marin reached out her hands, one to Kaisermann and one to Jack. “I’d like to say a sort of prayer.” She looked so incredibly sad. Her eyes were dry, but it was like she was crying with her whole body. Jack had never seen her like this.

  Abi clasped Jack and Kaisermann’s hands, and the chain was completed.

  Jack wasn’t sure what he expected. A few words spoken in remembrance of the ones who’d been lost to Nate’s murderous hunger? None of the four of them knew the victims, so that seemed hollow. A traditional prayer?

  Then Jack felt it, felt them. Seven souls. Seven souls had committed what was left of their lives to keeping Nate imprisoned.

  And Jack could feel each of them. He could feel the anger of having their mortal lives stolen. He could feel the sorrow of leaving loved ones behind. He could feel the joy of giving the ultimate gift in order to protect others. He could feel the faith of some that a better life with their God awaited.

  He had no concept of their sex, their names, their appearance. He knew that each of them chose with open heart to give themselves.

  And then they were gone.

  For a split second, Jack would have sworn he could see the ward surrounding and encompassing the crypt. Impossible. Wards were only visible to magic-users. Or to normal people who used magically enhanced items.

  But the web of lights looked very like wards he’d seen before with his special glasses—except for the color, a white so bright he’d almost been blinded.

  But then he’d blinked, and it was as if it had never been. He rubbed his eyes, already doubting what he’d seen. But not what he’d felt. That had been real. He didn’t know how to describe it, but it had been profound.

  “Your soul has been kissed,” Marin said. “That’s what my dad used to say it felt like to speak telepathically with a ghost. I’ve never done it before, and didn’t even know if I could.” She smiled. “But we could.”

  Kaisermann let out a heavy sigh. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

  Abi wiped the tears from her face. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Oh, God, where’s Iris?”

  “I’m here,” Iris called out. She was only a few feet away, leaning against the door to the crypt. She smiled at Jack. “I had to stay inside, as close to the entrance as possible, so I could keep the spirits anchored here on this plane and to this place.”

  Jack looked at her with new respect. She’d been inside that relatively small space while Nate had been drug down the hole to his cage. Not exactly a safe place to be, just feet away from a rabid killer in the throes of an epic tantrum.

  “I’m fine, Jack. I knew the ghosts would protect me.” She stood up straighter and her chin firmed. “But Kaisermann is exactly right: it’s time to go home now.”

  Jack closed his eyes, thinking back to the seven souls he’d “kissed” and none of them had seemed to be a Grandma Abi type. “Did Grandma Abi join the group of seven?”

  “No,” Iris said. “She knew that seven would be needed, and all seven were the aswang’s victims. Everyone involved agreed that was best. It made for the strongest connection and therefore the greatest power for the ward.”

  Everyone piled into the SUV. Marin, Jack, and Kaisermann sat in the back, and Jack did his best to protect his back from bumps and jostles.

  Since Marin woke him up when they arrived at Sanctuary and he hardly thought he’d fall asleep from pain, Jack figured he must have passed out. “Don’t suppose there’s any chance your boy Harry could make it here quicker than three days?”

  Marin yanked Jack none too gently out of the SUV. “Right, because your injuries would get him here faster than the crisis of dealing with an aswang. Jack.”

  “Give me a break. I’m not in my right mind.” Jack scowled.

  Thankfully Elliot appeared. The last thing Jack needed when he was injured, tired, and not at his best was to get in a fight with Marin that she would undoubtedly win.

  “Oh, Jack.” Elliot gave him a worried look. “You know you’re covered in blood?”

  “Yes. I am aware. And, due to certain circumstances, I might have to rely on your local healthcare services for a short time.”

  “He’s not nearly so bad off as he’d like you to think,” Marin said. “We’ll get him cleaned up, and find a nice place where he can rest until my friend can come and take a look at him.”

  “Your hotel room is still booked.” Elliot grinned at Marin. “With the gorgeous tub and lovely view.”

  “Wait a second.” Jack swayed and Elliot moved to prop him up. Jack cocked his head up at the bigger man. “You know we’ve resolved the case?”

  Elliot nodded.

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “How do you know we’ve resolved the case?”

  Elliot tipped his head at Marin. “She phoned on the drive home. Maybe we should load you right back into the…the SUV with no door and get you settled at the hotel.”

  Abi and Iris had been quietly conferring in the front seat, but stopped at mention of the doorless SUV. “Yes,” Abi said. “We can certainly take him. Better us, since he’s already bled all over the car. No need to bloody up anyone else’s. Hi, I’m Abi.” She waved to Elliot. “This is Iris.”

  Iris smiled in greeting.

  And very much like the ward he’d seen but hadn’t seen earlier that morning, Jack would almost swear he saw a literal spark dance between Elliot and Iris.

  Maybe the timing wasn’t quite right, and the circumstances could hardly be worse, but Jack could see the potential. They’d make an amazing couple.

  The world began to spin, and Jack saw spots. As Elliot shored him up, relief washed through Jack. He wasn’t losing his mind or turning into his sister, aka the
matchmaking queen. No, he was just light-headed and about to pass out from pain and blood loss.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Jack woke up, his back was on fire. He didn’t remember getting into bed. He blinked grit-filled eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw that he was back in his original, posh hotel, not Sanctuary.

  “Hey, there.”

  Jack was too muzzy-headed to pinpoint the speaker, but he was someone Jack knew.

  Elliot walked into his line of sight and then dropped down into the chair next to Jack’s bed. “We’ve been taking shifts, keeping an eye on you.”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. He’d love to rub his face, but that wouldn’t be a stellar plan. “Why?” The question came out as a croak.

  Elliot grabbed a cup from the nightstand with a straw stuck in it. He offered Jack a drink.

  It was an ordeal to drink through the straw while lying prone, but it was worth it. After he’d drunk half the glass, he felt like he could speak.

  Once Elliot had returned the glass, he said, “Just making sure you don’t try to get up on your own. You did that once and fell. We found you crashed out on the floor. After that, we figured it was better to do shifts and keep an eye on you.”

  “Ah. Don’t suppose it’s been three days?”

  Elliot smiled. “Unfortunately your healer friend isn’t expected for another day or two. They tried to find someone closer, but..” Elliot shrugged.

  “It’s not that common of a skill. We’ve been lucky that there are a few in the area where we live, and we have decent connections with, ah, this organization—”

  “IPPC. Marin told me about them. I’ve been quizzing her. I thought, with everything that’s happened here over the last few weeks, it might be good to have a more permanent solution for the area. And that’s when she mentioned them.”

  “Good God. Don’t tell me: you’re considering joining Harrington.” The thought was cringe-worthy. But then again, Jack had access to resources—friends—that Elliot didn’t have. All Elliot had was Jack, and he wasn’t moving to Belize any time soon. Any interest he might have had in vacationing had been wiped away. A shredded back would do that to a guy.

  “I’m not sure about joining, so much as staying in contact. Marin’s warned me that he’s a slippery man. But knowing what I do, it’s hard to think about living unplugged from the magic-using world. Knowing that there’s so much out there, so much wonder, and…” Elliot paused and then looked away from Jack as he said, “And so much potential for harm.”

  “I really am sorry about your girlfriend.”

  Elliot sighed. “You know, we weren’t soul mates or anything like that. We enjoyed each other’s company. She was fun, and I enjoyed being with her. She was a good person, and she made me happy. Maybe we would have been more, but I’ll never know because we didn’t have the time to find out. I resent that—the lost possibilities—most, I think.” He frowned. “It was also difficult having something so terrible happen to someone close to me. I read the autopsy report.”

  “Aw, Elliot. That wasn’t a good idea, man.”

  “How could I not?” Elliot ran both hands through his shaggy mop. “But enough. Thank you for everything. I’ve already transferred the cash we agreed on plus something extra. Not that money helps with pain.”

  Jack snorted. “Sure it does. I feel better already. Speaking of, it hurts like hell, but all things considered, I would have expected worse.”

  For the first time since they’d been talking, Elliot’s expression lightened. “That would be the wyrd sisters’ work.”

  “You mean Abi and Iris?”

  Elliot grinned. “That’s what the locals call them. Better than witch, I suppose. They’re both very well-liked. I’d heard of them, but never met them before. Abi’s been applying poultices regularly to your back and been adding some concoction to your drink. She’s also advised that we should start shoveling chicken soup down your throat. I’m sure once they discover you’re awake they’ll be sending it on. I've already texted them both.”

  “I don’t suppose there was something in what she’s been giving me to make me sleep?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank God. If I could have slept through all three days, I’d have been happy. I’ll be sure to thank her.”

  “And Iris.” Elliot pressed his lips together. “You know it was her ghosts who caught you when Nate dropped you.”

  Jack remembered falling and then he remembered being on the ground—but no impact. “How is that remotely possible?”

  “Not a clue. I’m not sure that Iris knows. She’s pretty upset about what happened with the seven victims’ ghosts. I know she wants to explore the idea of being a medium—but probably not for a while.”

  A light knock on the door was followed by the entrance of the two wyrd ladies themselves. Abi entered carrying a Tupperware container and Iris followed with flowers.

  “Hey, look at that,” Jack said. “My soup has arrived, just as predicted. I understand I have you lovely ladies to thank for my care.”

  “You’re very welcome.” Iris lifted the bouquet. “These are from Marin. She flew out as soon we got you stabilized.”

  Marin’s father. How could he have forgotten?

  “But her friend Harry is still scheduled to come in and treat you.” Abi’s eyes shone with curiosity. “I can’t wait to see how that works. I don’t suppose he’d let me in on any trade secrets, would he?”

  Jack laughed—which was a huge mistake. It took him several minutes before the pain had subsided enough for him to put two thoughts together. But the first thought he had was that these three would make a fabulous local team. Harrington was a fool if he didn’t try to recruit them to create a field office.

  Jack would just have to do his best to keep them independent of IPPC. No problem. He had a few days to get them up to speed on Harrington and the organization.

  He could even see a possible investigation agency in their future. Or, knowing Elliot, maybe a non-profit.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  Jack was thrilled to be back at The Junk Shop. So thrilled that he’d even started to clean and catalogue some of the new acquisitions, a task he usually left to Marin.

  One of the beautiful things about employees and junior partners, he could delegate to them. But he was now down an employee and up a junior partner, so maybe it was time to consider adding to the staff.

  “I’m assuming your back is doing well today, given the smirk you have plastered on your face.” Marin sauntered into the shop exactly fifteen minutes late, a recent trend. About two days out of the week she came in late, just to prove she could.

  Jack set aside the stack of books he’d been examining and leaned on the counter, not something he’d been able to do after the first few treatments he’d received. “Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?”

  Harry the healer was a whiz, truly an exceptional healer. And a stellar guy. Everyone liked Harry…well, except maybe Harry’s uncle, but there was some deep history there. Besides, Harrington was an ass, so if he wasn’t particularly fond of his nephew that was all the more evidence of how cool Harry was.

  “So, we’re not talking about your relationship?” Jack asked. “I seem to recall that you were the one to bring it up originally.”

  “I’m fine to discuss Harry—sorry, I’m just distracted.”

  “It’s the letter, isn’t it?” Jack had been the one to find it. Supposedly from her father, telling her that he was fine for now and not to come looking for him. He also asked her to pass along a message to Lachlan. What the message had been, he didn’t know—but the search for her dad had been called off and Marin had rejoined him in Belize. Not that she’d been concerned about him. She’d just grabbed the opportunity to vacation with her new squeeze.

  Jack wouldn’t have been so comfortable, not until he’d laid eyes on the previously missing man and seen that he was safe. But dragons were an odd bunch.<
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  “No, not the letter. I’ve been thinking about the crypt's ward. Remember I told you they’d used more than one death, at least two, Harry says, to keep the ward charged for so long.”

  “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t talk to Harry about it. I was busy lying in bed all day while you guys gallivanted around Belize.”

  Marin shot him an annoyed look. “Please. You know humans need more healing sessions and more time in between them than magic-users. What were we supposed to do? Throw away a perfectly good vacation opportunity and keep you company in your room.” She shuddered. “Never gonna happen. You’re the crankiest sick person ever.”

  “So what’s the dilemma?”

  “Harry might not make a fuss about his spell-caster abilities, but he’s easily as talented with wards as he is healing.” She bit her lip. “He didn’t entirely understand how the aswang got out. He said that the ward should have been even stronger than it was. I was also thinking…Nate had to be in the aswang version of hibernation. How did he break out?”

  “Are you worried about a repeat of events?” Jack’s back twinged with remembered pain. No Nate ever again would be fabulous. A dead Nate would be even better—but no one had quite sorted out that particular detail.

  Shaking her head, she said, “No, it’s just…” She pursed her lips. “How did it all come about?”

  “I don’t know, and while I wouldn’t go so far as to say I don’t care…I kinda don’t care, so long as leather-butt stays put. But forget about Nate, did you ask Harry if he might want to work with us? If an appropriate case comes up.”

  “He has his own responsibilities, Jack.”

  And while they bickered over the merits of having Harry join the team (of which there were many) and the disadvantages (of which there were very, very few), Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d shrugged off a very important question.

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