Circle of the Moon Page 33

  T. Laine had already typed in a comment. There is a working for vampires. It isn’t very specific, but if you have a little vampire blood you can search for it.

  T. Laine submitted her summation as I was reading the others: Jason and magic. Blood Tarot magic was part of the Ethier family. Loriann had her grandmother’s deck, said to have been owned by Torquemada himself. Per Loriann Ethier, Jason stole the rare deck. Using tarot, Jason practiced the Circle of the Moon and ways to alter it for unknown purpose. Note: Blood Tarot decks can be used in demon worship and demon summoning. Note: LaFleur’s binding likely contained what witches sometimes refer to as a confidentiality clause, keeping him from talking about the tats or the experience. The working might have even kept him from remembering much of his experience. I’ll be turning this all over to the witch council for evaluation and judgment. Loriann deliberately put a protection order and a restraining order against speech into the flesh of a human being, neither of which was part of the working she was forced to ink by the vampire Isleen. She did that of her own volition. And her brother is now, possibly, summoning vampires, which may be how he ended up with Godfrey.

  T. Laine’s summation ended with two conclusions, Jason’s one goal seems to be to find and kill Rick LaFleur, who—according to his sister’s lies—didn’t want to save him, or was willing to sacrifice Loriann and Jason to save himself. And, Now that Rick has learned he had a mute compulsion inked into his skin, he seems to be able to force himself to speak through it. I hold out hopes that he can overcome the other bindings too. I see no indication of security breach in LaFleur.

  My teammates were working to protect their boss and his job.

  Here, just like in the church, everything evil seemed to have its feet planted in secrets and lies, control and abuse.

  FIFTEEN

  I went home, got some rest. When I woke, Sam was at the door with Mud and Brother Thad, the boxes of equipment behind them. I wrapped a robe around myself and opened it. “Hey. Is it a party?” I asked.

  “Nope,” Mud said. “I’m here for the next two nights, me and Cherry. I got nowhere else to stay.” Mud seemed awfully pleased about that.

  I spotted the dog in the yard on a long leash, racing back and forth and up and down, smelling everything, peeing and marking territory everywhere the leash would reach. I hadn’t had a dog since the churchmen had shot and killed my three. A strange thrill raced through me at the sight, not one I’d have predicted. I was unexpectedly happy to have a dog here again. Cherry was long-haired, liver, white, and tan, as agile and fast as a racing dog. I turned my gaze back to Mud, who was not mine yet, according to the courts. “You can’t stay here, sister mine. I don’t have anyone to stay at the house with you yet.”

  Sam pushed Mud through the door. “At the Nicholson house, Mama and Mama Grace’ve got the stomach bug, along with five of the littles. Projectile vomiting. It’s spreadin’ like wildfire. Esther and Jed have it too.”

  “And I can’t stay with Sam on account of SaraBell jist gave him a boy.”

  “You’re a father?” I squealed and grabbed Sam, hugging him, the first time I’d hugged my brother since before I left the house at age twelve.

  Sam laughed in delight and hugged me back, his blue eyes sparkling. “Eight pounds, seven ounces and a head full of dark hair. SaraBell named him Sam Junior.”

  “But Mud can’t stay here.”

  “Sam Junior is too little to be exposed. SaraBell has him in quarantine. And Mama Carmel’s got her hands full. Sorry, Nell, but you’un get her back.”

  “I’m a big girl,” Mud said. “And now that I got me a watchdog, I’ll be right as rain here alone.”

  Mud could not stay here alone, but I wasn’t going to argue in front of guests. “And Brother Thad?” I asked.

  Brother Thad held out a hand to Sam and introduced himself. I had a feeling that Sam hadn’t known that the Brother Thad I talked about being my friend and who had asked me to attend his church was a black man. “Pleasure to meet you, Sam. Nell says kind things about her brother.”

  “Mr. Rankin,” Sam said.

  Brother Thad dropped Sam’s hand and extended a folded sheet of paper to me. “Your estimate, with breakdowns. There’s one for the upstairs bathroom and water heater, a separate estimate for a redesign of the downstairs bath, and a third detailed estimate of central heat and air. There’s a labor quote at the bottom to install the solar panels. If you do all the upgrades, there’s a discount, but the estimate doesn’t take into account any problems we might find when we tear into the walls and plumbing.”

  “And there’s always problems,” Sam said. “Nell, Mr. Rankin, I’d love to stay, but I need to get home. Nell, let me know if you want me to look over the numbers.”

  “I’m pretty capable of looking over numbers on my own, brother mine, despite being female and too dumb to understand basic math.”

  Sam caught the sarcasm. “Not what I meant, Nellie.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, wrenching my robe tighter. “All I need from you is the cost of the supplies to build the greenhouse Mud asked you about. Then I can go to the bank.”

  “Mindy has the estimate of the construction materials in her bag,” Sam said. “I gotta go. You’uns have a good night. Mr. Rankin, nice to meet you.”

  “Mud can’t stay here alone and PsyLED isn’t safe right now,” I said.

  “Not my problem. The mamas said to bring her.” Sam waved me away and thumped down the steps, the rubber treads of his summer work boots echoing under the porch.

  The mamas said to bring her. Pushing me back into a traditional female churchwoman role? Or showing me how hard my plan to keep Mud would really be? No. They knew Mud would always be in danger on church lands. This was exactly what it appeared to be. A kerfuffle.

  Brother Thad followed, saying over his shoulder, “You call me when you know something, Nell.”

  I stared after them as Brother Thad followed Sam down the steps and the two trucks went down the hill in line. I looked at the dog. And my sister. Thought about a blood-witch in the null room. Wondered if the vampire tree would make an acceptable babysitter.

  And hoped Rick LaFleur wouldn’t get all picky about a dog in the workplace. I had to figure this situation out. Soon.

  * * *

  • • •

  The three of us got to HQ before the start of my shift, when the sun was still high but the daytime moon, invisible at this part of the lunar cycle anyway, had set. The dog was a maniac, racing up the stairs on her adjustable leash. Springers were never yappy dogs, but Cherry was even more silent than most. She was all nosy, nose to the stairs and then the door, sniffing, racing back and forth, up and down, trying to get all the smells. Her nails clicked and her tail wagged like mad, the long tail hair, called feathers, whisking the air.

  My arms loaded with my gobags and dog supplies, I used my ID card to open the door at the top of the stairs. As the door opened, Mud dropped Cherry’s leash. I lunged for the strap, but she rushed through like a tricolor whirlwind, dashing silently down the hall. And leaped high into the air, onto Rick LaFleur’s chest.

  My boss caught her, his eyes going wide. Cherry wrapped her legs around his neck like a human would and hugged him, that tail still flapping madly, her entire back half a crazy waggle. The dog clearly had no problem with cat scent. Rick’s eyes went soft and he knelt so he could support the dog and pet her too. “Well. Hey there,” he said quietly, one hand stroking her back. Cherry slobbered a half dozen dog kisses over his face and Rick started laughing. “Okay, okay. I love you too.”

  Something about the scenario seemed a bit . . . off as it replayed through my mind. And then it hit me. Mud had dropped the leash on purpose.

  Mud raced after and took Cherry from Rick. “Sorry, Mr. Rick,” Mud said. “She’s a little excited.” To the dog, she said, sternly, “Cherry, you behave.”

  “It’s .
. . okay,” he said, sounding surprised and pleased all at once, scratching the dog behind the ears. “Cherry?” Cherry shoved her snout into his ear. Rick laughed and rearranged, so he could stroke the dog again.

  I explained about the dog gift and the stomach bug on church grounds and Mud being with me for the next few days. Rick said, “I don’t like it, Nell. Jason presents a dangerous situation and I’m not so sure that his sister isn’t just as big a threat, and she’s on premises. And a wereleopard might think Cherry looks tasty. I wouldn’t want her hurt.”

  “Me neither, ’cause then we’d haveta shoot you,” Mud said.

  Rick spluttered, laughing.

  “No one is shooting the boss. I’m sorry,” I said, apologizing for my sister and for me.

  Deliberately obscure in front of Mud, he added to me, “Time’s getting close.”

  To the new moon. I understood that, but I didn’t know what else to do with my sister. I put Mud in my office and arranged my window plants around the desk to keep her company. Cherry curled up at her feet on a dog bed I brought from the truck. I found a bowl for water and another for dog food. I had forgotten how expensive dogs were. When I had my sister settled, I gave the puppy an oversized, soft Nylabone to chew and went looking for the rest of the crew, none of whom were present except for Rick, who was in his office, the silvered cage in the corner.

  “I’m sorry about Mud and the dog,” I said. “I can’t leave her at the church.”

  My boss gave me a tired, backhand wave as if it was just another awful on top of a truckload of awful. Rick was distracted, one hand on the amulets at his neck, his fingers worrying them like worry beads or one of those spinner things people use. If I listened closely I could hear a few notes of his woodwind antimagic music playing in his newfangled earbud. It ran on Wi-Fi, was powered by a new generation of batteries, and was smaller than a hearing aid.

  Without looking at me, Rick said, “I want you to read and collate all the files on this case. See if we missed anything. Then at dusk, call your fanged friend at the clan home of the MOC and see if she knows anything new.”

  “Files I can do. And talk to Yummy.” Since there was a dog and a little girl at my desk, I took my laptop and tablets to the conference room and opened up multiple screens. Instantly, I discovered that Loriann had been released from the null room and sent to her hotel to get some rest. Leaving the witch in pain, without charging her, would have been illegal according to witch law. I figured someone was watching her, either through arcane or mundane means.

  I found a note from Occam, which said simply, I wanted to stay and see you, Nell, sugar, but I’m tuckered out. I’ll come in early and bring breakfast. It wasn’t much, but it warmed me inside and out, and made my assigned job seem a little less tedious. Not everything in police work is high-speed car chases or shoot-outs. Most of it is boring paperwork. Very boring. Even with the sun still bright through the western-facing windows, I had to take quick breaks to stay alert, so I checked on Mud and her dog several times, taking the dog out twice to potty, just to have something active to do. Once I caught Rick kneeling at my cubicle, petting the dog, and I remembered the barrenness of Rick’s home. Rick seemed like the kind of man who would have pets, but only cats could survive his hours.

  Around eight p.m., which was close to sunset in July, I was standing at the opening of my cubicle while Mud was in the locker room taking a potty break of her own. I automatically reached for the plants on the desk as I waited, and studied the dog, trying to see if she needed to go for a potty break again too. Her tail slapped the floor and her entire body wriggled under my scrutiny. More likely, she needed a run.

  My fingers were in Soulwood soil. Touching a small rosemary plant.

  I felt the sunset happen, up through my bones. I blinked. I had never—

  Through the soil, the earth moved. I tilted, nearly fell, landing hard against the padded edge of the cubicle half-wall. Earthquake? Except the immediate sensation rising into my bones was filth. Foul. Something bad. On/in/through the soil.

  Everything happened fast, overlapping. I wasn’t sure, later, in what order it all occurred.

  Mud screamed, “Nell!”

  Soulwood reached for me through the earth. Wrapped itself around me, much like Cherry had wrapped her legs around Rick. Or like roots wrapped around a rock in the earth. Danger, came from Soulwood. The communication wasn’t a word. It was more like lightning striking or rain flooding or wildfire roaring—

  Rick, I thought. In his office. Not in his cage. With Mud here. My sister, in danger. I turned, dropping the plant. Running. Drawing my weapon. Knowing regular ammo would do nothing against a wereleopard. Hearing the pot shatter behind me.

  A grindylow sped down the hallway from nowhere, sliced the air near my face. I dodged out of its way. It dove into Rick’s office. Screams of the two shattered the air.

  Someone—Jason—was working the Circle of the Moon. Even with the moon below the horizon.

  “Blood!” Mud shouted, staggering into the hallway. “Lots of blood!”

  I recognized it then too, and would have sooner but my first thought had been Rick. Someone, somewhere, was pouring a blood sacrifice onto the earth. A huge one.

  In Rick’s office, just ahead, out of sight, fresh blood flew, splattering on the walls.

  I knew it. I felt it. Bloodlust woke in me. I stumbled toward the blood.

  Want . . . It rose in me like water in a well. Want . . . I wanted to feed Rick to the earth. Wanted to help the blood-witch feed the earth. I wanted—Mud tore up the hallway after me, Cherry at her side. The dog was terrified, which I didn’t understand. So was Mud, also not something I understood. Except that Soulwood might have claimed my sister too.

  “Get in the locker room and lock the door!” I commanded Mud. “Now!”

  I didn’t look to see if she obeyed. She was church trained. She would hide. Sprinting the last steps to Rick’s office, I readied my weapon, held it in a two-hand grip, a round in the chamber, my finger on the trigger. If Rick had shifted, I’d need to shoot fast, empty the clip and hope I slowed him enough to get to safety. From the office came a strange sound, like cloth and rubber and metal rubbing together. And a soft, almost silent whine. And panting. I slammed my back to the wall and edged closer. Feeling the blood on the walls.

  A metallic clang echoed through HQ. Rick’s cage door, shutting.

  I whirled into the office doorway, weapon first. Feet planted. Took everything in fast.

  Rick was in his cage. With the neon green grindylow. Rick’s fingers still holding the cage door he had, somehow, managed to shut.

  My boss was a tangle of skin, human hands covered with black fur, cat legs, and bloody clothes. Blood splattered the walls in three long sweeps, like a crime scene. Blood . . . Want . . .

  “No,” I whispered to myself and to my land. “No.”

  I forced the want down. Away. Studied the scene in the office more thoroughly.

  Rick’s hand fell off the door and his fingers made little crackly sounds as they tried to become paws. He was in half shift. Inside a silver cage. That was supposed to be impossible. Jason’s calling was stronger than silver.

  Rick’s bones shattered and ground together, the sound popping and cracking and splintering. He was bleeding from his mouth and nose. It looked messy. And painful. The grindy, Bean, I thought, hissed at me and flashed her claws, telling me something. She looked at the padlock.

  “Oh.” Rick could still get out if he wanted. He still had fingers on one hand. “Right. Right,” I said. “Yeah. Ummm . . .”

  I didn’t want to move closer. I couldn’t catch were-taint, but I could be killed and eaten. If wereleopards ate plants. A hysterical laugh burbled in some crazy part of my brain.

  I eased closer, hesitating before I holstered my weapon. I needed two hands.

  Breath coming fast, my mouth dry, I
stretched, reaching to the cage, and latched the padlock.

  I backed from the office and closed Rick’s door. It wasn’t enough. I sped to Occam’s cubicle because it was closest and began to drag his desk out, intending to ram it up against Rick’s door. Which was stupid because the door opened inward. I stopped and repositioned the desk. Leaned on it and let myself breathe.

  “Nell!” Mud. Screaming. Her voice muffled behind the locker room door. My sister didn’t know I was safe. She was terrified that I was going to be hurt.

  I shook myself like Cherry might and put my shoulders back. And went to tell my sister everything was okay. But it wasn’t. I still felt Soulwood’s bloodlust. And my own. If I was a cursing woman, I’d be repeating JoJo’s words about sex. Saying them over and over.

  I pushed on the locker room door, but it didn’t give. I wondered what Mud had dragged up against it, just as I had tried to do with the desk. Sisters, well trained to protect ourselves and others. I knocked, saying, “It’s me. You can open the door.”

  “What if Rick has claws to your’n throat making you say that?” she said through the door.

  A laugh stuttered in my chest. “I promise I’m good. On the soul of my land.”

  I heard something heavy being slid across the floor. The door cracked open. A dog snout stuck through, then Mud’s right eye. The door went all the way open and Mud and the dog threw themselves at me, Cherry running in circles, wrapping us both in her leash. There was a line of benches stretching from the door to the wall opposite.

  “I was scared,” Mud said into my shoulder. Into my shoulder. With her head ducked. She was growing so fast. Not a little girl, no matter how I still thought of her.

  “It’s . . . not good. But it’s okay,” I said. “We’d make tea in the break room, but something’s happening. I need to get to work.”

  “Something bad. I know.” She eased away and met my eyes, our eyes nearly on a level. “If it’s okay with you’un—with you—I’ll be in the sleeping room with Cherry with the door locked.”