Ghosted, p.18
Ghosted, page 18
part #4 of Girl's Guide to Voodoo Bounty Hunting Series
The apparition of the Buddhist priest turned to her. He held out a hand as if blessing her. He bowed low once before floating away.
“Come on,” Jun Hee said, making her jump.
“Jeezus, you scared me. I thought you left.”
He wiggled the cell phone. “Realized I needed full proof the Soul Eater was gone for the bounty.”
“Oh, of course,” she said with a knowing look. Money is what to the bounty hunter. Period. Exclamation point.
Tucking his phone away, he helped her to her feet. “It’s over. Let’s cut through the other side of the graveyard. We can’t let the firemen see us.”
Tears of frustration stung her cheeks. She’d lost the Soul Eater and her only chance to get her fairies back.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The rain fell relentlessly. Roland leaned heavily on Nessa’s shoulder as they slogged through the mud to the other side of the cemetery.
They were heading for the main entrance by the Administration office. As far as Nessa could tell, there were no fire trucks on this side of the graveyard.
Poor Pim was hissing and spitting as he tiptoed through the mud. He did not like rain in either of his forms.
At the parking lot, Nessa jerked to a halt. A black Town Car was parked by the sidewalk. Two people stood under an oversized umbrella.
One of them was tall, thin, in a gorgeous mid-calf dress of silver and blue, her hair sparkling with jewels. Madame Valencia. No mistaking her.
“What the hell is she doing here?” demanded Nessa.
“I called her,” Jun Hee said sounding surprised at her tone.
“Why?”
“She’s the one putting up the bounty with the Infernal Court.
She shot him a look.
Again, he looked surprised. “I thought you knew.”
“No, I did not. She’s holding my fairies hostage. Didn’t you hear me ask the priest?”
“Wasn’t listening. She has them in prison?”
“Yes.”
He made a fist pump in the air. “Boo yeah! I hate those creepy girls. They tortured me. Probably would have killed me. As far as I am concerned, she can keep the little monsters.”
“Jun Hee!” she protested.
But he’d already turned away.
She led go of Roland. He sank onto the sidewalk.
“My fairies,” she said to Madame Valencia trying unsuccessfully to keep the note of desperation out of her voice. “The Soul Eater has been…” she searched for a good word. “Neutralized. Give me back my fairies.”
“Has he?” she asked in a deceptively casual voice.
“He was taken by a Kasha. To hell,” she added.
Madame Valencia’s face twisted into a sneer or as much of a sneer as she could manage with all the Botox. “Which means you did not fulfill your part of the bargain. The exact wording was ‘bring him to me.’ I do not see him.”
Anger flared in Nessa. Her hair began to float up, pulling itself loose from her ponytail holder. It had been a long, hard couple of days. And she was thoroughly sick of other people getting in her way.
“I did capture him. Twice. This time I had him tied up like a Christmas present ready to hand over to you. Then a Buddhist Priest sent his death curse into the heavens. He called a cat from hell. And I don’t mean figuratively. He was literally from the Buddhist Hell. The monster exists only to grab evil people and drag them to eternal torment. Jun Hee has it on film.”
Jun Hee opened the Town Car’s back door. He nodded as he maneuvered himself and the quail inside. “I do.”
Madame Valencia did not look impressed. She continued to stare at Nessa wrinkling her nose like she was an unpleasant pile of garbage. “The Queen needed him alive to prove the Princess’s complicity.”
Nessa threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Screw proof and screw complicity. What did you think I could do against a divine cat deity? Divine. Not partly divine. Fully. Watch Jun Hee’s video.”
Anger swelled in her chest. She stamped it down. What good would bringing out the dark side do her now? Blowing Madame Valencia into the Pacific Ocean would be super satisfying, sure. It would not help save her fairies.
“The threat of the Princess using the souls he’d collected against the Queen of Fire is gone. I did that.” She pointed at herself. “Me. Not Jun Hee.”
Madame Valencia ignored her. Nessa might as well have been talking to a wall. The older woman motioned to Jun Hee, only seeing now he was already in the car. “Ah. Good. You can show me the video.”
“Not until I see the money,” he said readjusting the squirming bundle of quail on his lap. “And no Fae bargain. Infernal Court rules.”
“We shall discuss terms.”
“He didn’t do anything,” Nessa’s voice broke on the last word.
The man in the suit adjusted the umbrella for Madame Valencia to enter the car.
“The Queen of Fire thanks you for your assistance,” the older woman said not looking at Nessa. “You are dismissed, Miss Scott. Say hello to your aunt for me.” She gave a brittle laugh as the driver shut the door.
The man closed the umbrella, got behind the wheel, and started the engine.
Nessa watched them, anger boiling inside her.
She called the lightning with barely a flick of her magic. The first bolt smashed into the car’s windshield shattering it.
The driver gunned the engine.
Nessa sent another bolt taking out the back windshield. There was a screech and a torrent of swearing from inside the vehicle.
The driver burned rubber out of the parking lot.
She tossed one more after the car as it sped away. Not really intending to hurt them.
Maybe.
Madame Valencia was a true and total bitch. What could Nessa really do?
She said as much to Pim.
Only silence met her question.
Pim was sprawled next to Roland on the wet concrete. Both of them looked as ragged as ragged could be.
She gathered Pim in her arms. No easy task. The grey British Shorthair was a handful. Nudging Roland with her foot, she said, “Hey, Roland. Hey!”
He coughed and stirred a little.
“Get up. Let’s go get something to eat. I am running on fumes.” She thought about what she’d said. Roland was from the Seventh Century. “Um, I am out of energy.” And she was. Her last burst of Elemental magic had been a mistake. Her arms and legs had gone from feeling like they were made of jelly to being filled with lead. “If I don’t get something to eat, I am going to fall apart.”
Roland painfully dragged himself to his feet.
They were limping out of the parking lot when a van roared up the driveway. It executed a perfect Tokyo Drift move, coming to a stop in front of them.
It was the ghost hunter’s van.
Of course it was.
The motley crew of ghosthunters she’d seen on the news came tumbling out of the doors, pushing to be the first to reach her.
“We saw everything,” said the sturdy lady with wavy hair.
Nessa turned away and kept walking.
“Wait,” she said running closer. “We want to talk with you. About what happened here.”
“Nothing happened here,” Nessa said over her shoulder.
“Everything happened here,” one of the men said. “Storms. Fireballs. Witchcraft. And… and..” he broke off to lean over, panting.
“Easy Ron. Take a deep breath,” said another man.
“The giant flaming cart,” added the woman.
“And the cat,” panted the man. He pantomimed flames shooting around his body. “Fire.”
‘Go away,” Nessa said in a tired voice, still walking.
“We have it on camera,” said one of the men.
Pim wriggled off her shoulder, jumping lightly to the ground.
Nessa turned to face them. “Are you threatening me?”
The group exchanged looks. The man with the beard nudged the sturdy woman.
“No, no. We’ve been hunting for this stuff all our lives. You… you’re real. It’s real.”
Nessa took a step closer and took off her sunglasses.
The woman in the back of the group squeaked and the two guys grabbed each other by the arm.
Pim turned a backward somersault. He came down in his werecat form.
The entire group gasped.
Even an exhausted werecat is still intimidating as F.
“I ask again,” said Nessa. “Are you threatening me?”
“We… we’ve... um… jeezus…” the sturdy woman stammered.
“Uploaded it to the cloud,” said the bearded guy in a rush.
Sighing deeply, Roland came to stand by Nessa. He drew his dagger. “Shall I kill them?” he asked quietly. His tone was more frightening for the matter-of-fact way he said it.
“Wait,” Nessa said.
“Wait!” the sturdy woman said. “Please, wait. You don’t understand. We’ve been chasing the supernatural all our lives. You just proved it exists.”
“And my Paladin Roland here will dis-prove it just as quickly. Permanently.”
“Ghosts are real, aren’t they,” said the lady in the back. The one who squeaked.
“Far more than you could ever realize,” said Roland.
“Shush,” admonished Nessa. “You’re not supposed to tell them.”
“Why not? They will soon enter the spirit world themselves.”
The group drew closer together.
Pim growled.
“The film doesn’t show you,” said the sturdy woman. “Not your face or his,” she pointed at Roland. “And when the cat blew the smokescreen, everything got blotted out. We’re not trying to expose you. Please. Please can we talk sometime? Off the record? This…” she almost sobbed. “This is everything to us. Everything. Even if no one ever knows. Now we know we aren’t crazy.” She turned to the others, wiping her eyes, and giving the air a fist pump. “We’re not crazy.”
“We’re not. We’re really not,” they said, nodding their heads, sniffling wetly and wiping their eyes in turn.
Pim stopped growling to sit back on his haunches. With a glance at Nessa, he flipped back to his invisible feline form. He knew she was not going to hurt these people.
The group gasped in unison as he disappeared.
“What do you think?” she asked her Familiar.
“Please,” said the bearded man.
“Please,” said the other woman. “It means so much.”
“We won’t record it or anything,” said the sturdy woman in a pleading tone. She put her hands together in front of her, “Please.”
Nessa hissed a breath.
Idiots.
She held out her hand. “Give me your card.”
The woman quickly handed over about a dozen. Nessa tucked them in her back pocket.
She stepped very close to them, knowing exactly how frightening she looked when her eyes were black. “If I find out you’ve broadcast any of what happened here tonight. Any of it! My werecat and I will show you just how real magic is. Understood?”
They nodded again.
“Good. What you saw tonight should terrify you. In fact, I hope it keeps you awake night after night. There is so much you do not and should not know. Part of what I do is protect innocents from this knowledge.”
Which was bullshit, but it sounded great. In her mind she struck a noble pose, ‘Nessa Scott, Protector of the Innocent.’
To the ghost hunters, she said, “We’re going now. Do not follow us or I might not be able to restrain the Paladin from using his dagger.”
Roland gave them such a bored stare it was terrifying. He looked like he wouldn’t give their deaths a second thought. Which he probably would not.
She motioned for Pim to jump back in her arms. Nudging Roland with her shoulder, they limped out the gates and around the block to her scooter.
Jun Hee’s loaner was still parked at the curb. He must be riding with Madame Valencia talking terms. Nessa deserved a share of the bounty. Tomorrow she’d fight with him. And by fight, she meant she would cripple him if he didn’t hand over some cash.
Jun Hee was neither innocent nor in need of protection. Now she knew his weakness. If necessary, she could always get Pim to claw through his tattoos.
Getting Roland to squeeze behind her on the scooter and hold on took longer than it should have. He had never been on a scooter before. He fell off the back spectacularly on her first two attempts to zip away from the cemetery.
His falls gave her time to observe the firefighters and police scouring the grounds. Two tornadoes in two days plus mysterious fires and more murders. The priest’s ashes were there. And the other person as well. Or maybe the winds had blown them to heck. How could the police even begin to figure out what happened? If those ghost hunters kept their promise, the authorities would put it down to freak weather.
She knew from her wide-ranging experience of being poor Jack in the Box often had the cheapest fast food around. Googling it on her phone, she didn’t find any nearby. Dang. There was a Taco Bell. Good enough.
Pim had collapsed in a boneless lump in the scooter’s basket.
“How about burritos?” she asked him.
He waved one paw limply in the air.
Roland finally figured out the physics of sitting on a moving scooter: Lean forward, hold onto her waist.
Mentally she crossed her fingers. ‘Please let the police be busy looking elsewhere,’ Nessa silently prayed as they sped away. She was not supposed to have a passenger on the bike. No spare helmet either. California had strict helmet laws.
Luck was on her side for once. The police were far too busy handling this newest calamity to slam Los Angeles to bother her.
She pulled into the Taco Bell parking lot, picked up the exhausted Pim, and tugged Roland with her. It was blessedly, wonderfully warm inside. The familiar smell of taco meat and hot sauce tickled her nose. She felt Pim’s tummy rumble under her hand. Her own answered louder.
She found a booth in the back. Here Pim could hunker down on the seat out of sight.
Tonight was a night full of firsts for Roland. First scooter ride. First burrito. First basket of nachos. First cola.
He wasn’t sure how to eat the burritos. After Nessa cut Pim’s beefy soft tacos – no lettuce, no tomatoes – into tiny bites, she eagerly showed Roland how. Holding her burrito in both hands, she unfolded the paper and took a big bite, licking the sour cream as it oozed out the top. She always got extra sour cream.
Nobody said anything, concentrating on filling their stomachs. It took three burritos and a large order of spicy fries for Nessa to fill her up. Burritos, tacos, nachos, fries, drinks… She moaned inwardly about spending this much money on only one meal. What else could she do? Her morals wouldn’t let her abandon Roland cold, wet, and hungry.
They sat staring into space, temporarily unable to do anything thanks to their food coma. It was a good feeling.
After several trips to the drink machine and one to the bathroom, she took out the Speak and Spell, placing it on the seat. It felt like days since she and Pim had had a proper conversation.
‘Well?” she started, letting him take the lead.
His paws danced over the keyboard.
“We need to go into Faerie. Ask the Queen of Air to intercede.”
Roland sat up straighter. “The ghost speaks.”
“Not a ghost. Cat. Magic cat,” she added. “You saw him as a werecat.”
“I did not understand they were connected,” he said staring hard at the banquette seat.
‘Do you think the Queen will even see us?’ she asked Pim.
“After your demonstration of power in the ballroom, I believe she will,” Pim typed. “Everyone was quite impressed.”
“The Queen will demand a favor in return,” Roland said. “You should be aware.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
What little Nessa knew of the Fae meant it would be something hard and dangerous. She lifted the sunglasses to run a hand over her tired eyes. They were sore from the heat and smoke.
“Do you still have the camera?” Roland asked.
Nessa tugged the backpack closer. “Yes, and I’m keeping it. Asshole tax.”
He looked cross. “I would have had him if not for you.”
Nessa sat bolt upright.
“Oh, you’ve done it now,” the Speak and Spell droned.
“Me?” she hissed at Roland. “Me? If you hadn’t interfered when I threw the Fudo Cord the first time, the Buddhist priest would still be alive. Mrs. Baker might still be alive. The other guy who died tonight, whoever he was, would still be alive. And I would have my fairies back from Madame Valencia. There is potentially a lot of death at your door, Mr. Paladin.”
“She is not wrong,” Pim typed in agreement.
Roland looked down at his hands. “He is my friend.”
“Well then why didn’t you ask him to stop?”
“We are bound to our Master or Mistress in Fae. We must obey or be punished.”
“How did you end up in service to the Queen?” Pim asked.
“I died. Or I was dying. I’d fallen mortally wounded on the battlefield. Have you ever suffered a mortal injury?”
Nessa had been staring into space, not really paying attention. “What?” she said, shifting her eyes back to Roland.
“Mortal injury,” he repeated.
“Me? No. Duh. I’m still alive. Mortal means sayonara. Forever.”
His face took on a dreamy expression. “Bleeding to death is a pleasant feeling. Close your eyes and sleep. I wanted to sleep. To rest. I was so tired. I vaguely felt two enemy soldiers pull me to my knees, one on either side since I had no strength left to stand. The point of a sword or perhaps a dagger pressed into the back of my neck. I thought ‘Here it is,’ and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was in Faerie.”
“You’re an Air Elemental. Faerie likes Elementals,” Nessa pointed out.
“As I learned.”
Pim’s paws tapped the keyboard. “Were you sad?”
“About what?”
“Not dying.”
“After I recovered, I chafed at my new bonds for a time.” He shrugged. “I had no family, no friends, assuming they all died during the battle. I am a warrior. I fight. It’s all I know. I am certainly as deserving of hell’s fire as Oliver.”
