Dead and Disorderly (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 2) (27 page)

“You
killed
an innocent man. You
damned
an innocent man.” Nahia’s voice reeked of disgust and was full of the steel Nico saw in her earlier.

Her condemnation was met with laughter, slow rumbling laughter that had Nico reaching for his gun out of habit. The temperature dropped further, and the windows began to frost at the edges.

“And if I did? I’m dead, what else could you possibly do to me?” He continued laughing, and more things fell off the altars and flew across the room. “I have power. Beyond your understanding.”

Nahia snorted derisively. “You can walk through walls, throw stuff. Big deal.” The window frame behind her cracked dangerously. “You have parlor tricks. I have power. Donnell McManus.”

He snarled as soon as she uttered his name.

“That’s right,” she purred, her voice and demeanor now completely predatory, “I meant what I said. I have your name, so I own you, and now you will leave this house.”

“It’s my house! Mine! I won’t leave!” the voice was no longer even close to human, little more than a rolling growl.

She raised her blade and pointed it at him, with Mags and Amelia following suit. “Donnell McManus, I bind you.”

The howl of pain tore through the room, and Nico crossed himself out of reflex and suddenly felt the need to take a leak. They each repeated the phrase by themselves, but didn’t get to repeat it together since one of the windows spiderwebbed from the bottom up like it had been slammed shut, though it had never moved. The flames on the candles danced madly and grew to worrisome heights.

The walls began to tremble and the floorboards began to shake and separate. Nico understood why she’d told him not to move. He’d have liked nothing better than to tuck her under his arm like the game-winning ball and carry her out of there like he did last time, but knew she wouldn’t have allowed it. In a fumble for the suddenly-off kilter camera, he noticed the salt from the circle seeping through the equally sudden gaps in the floorboards. “Nahia—”

“Not now,” was the curt response. She was so focused on the situation in front of her, she didn’t even look at him. “Donnell McManus, I—”

Growing increasingly alarmed at the growing holes in the protective circle she’d confined him to, he tried again, raising his voice. “Nahia, the circle!”

She looked then, and her distraction caused by her concern for his safety was all the opening McManus needed. The mist shot out toward her as the entity shoved her back. All the way back into her altar, out of the circle, and breaking it as she dragged her heels in a futile attempt to halt her movement. She slammed into the wall and slid down into her candles and burning incense. “Mother fucker!”

Now Nico had two problems. His desire to go to Nahia and check on her was winning, but his desire to be away from the suddenly free entity was a close second. Unsure if he should move, he took a step toward Nigel. Maybe he could take refuge in the other circle. He felt the terrible moment the entity’s attention focused solely on him. His skin chilled and all the hair on his body stood up.

He lunged toward Nigel’s spot. Nahia scrambled to her feet, and the faint scent of burnt hair and flesh stung Nico’s nose. His larger senses told him McManus was hot on his heels and gaining fast. Blood pounded in his ears. He registered the look of terror on Nigel’s face as he watched over Nico’s shoulder. Whatever was behind him was bad, really, really bad.

“Everybody stop!” The voice, a vicious growl, almost sounded like Nahia, but he’d never heard her like that before. He came to a halt out of reflex to the command, and everything in the room fell silent.

There was mayhem, and there was hot mess. This situation was a disgusting blend of both. McManus’ rage had freed him from the circle, threatening the love of her life. And to add insult to injury, she had solid wax in her scorched hair from where she fell into the candles, and more than likely had a few burns up her back from the incense.

“You!” She pointed to Nico. “Hallway, now. Don’t break the seal.” Part of sealing the hallway was to cut off McManus’ escape route, but it also served as a good back up plan in a pinch. Not waiting to see if Nico did as she’d asked, she turned her considerable attention to the black void hovering just behind him.

She was shocked at his strength, after all these years of being alone in the house without any fear to feed on. His power spoke more to the depths of his rage than anything else. It should have dawned on her when he threw the chifferobe at them that he was unlike anything she’d dealt with before. But to her credit, she was the same to him.

“McManus, you will return to the circle,” Nahia commanded. She pointed with her athame as she fished in her pocket for her spare pouch of salt. She stared at the two gaps in the salt, left by her dragging heels as she was forced across the room. These two small breaks had allowed his malevolence to escape into the room.

“You can’t control me.” The voice was soft, taunting, high on the small victory he’d achieved so far.

“You’re wrong.” She knelt and filled in the spots with salt and redrew the sacred symbols her flailing had damaged. When she stood, she rolled her head around her shoulders, completely pissed this was what it had come to, this sheer battle of wills and spellcraft. This was what she’d walked away from, was happy without now. But no, he had to bring her back to this place. Well, if that’s how he wanted it… “In the circle, McManus. Do not make me ask again.”

“Or what?” The voice was in a different place now, closer to Nigel, as he reveled in his newfound freedom. Her eyes tracked the black void of his embodiment as it moved from Nigel, to behind Amelia and then over to Mags. Still, he kept away from her, which was probably for the best.

There was no contingency in place for this kind of emergency, nothing in the plan they’d conceived to cover this. She met Mags’ questioning eyes and knew she had to make a decision. “Or I will summon something infinitely nastier than you to make you do it. You think I’m bad? I can show you things, old man, things that will scare the dead right off of you.” It was an indelicate solution, but very doable given the circumstances. She wasn’t worried about the circle. It would hold now, and she’d designed it for just this purpose, but her friends? That was another matter.

“Nye—” Mags’ warning tone wasn’t unexpected. She was not familiar with the dark forms of magic. It wasn’t her scene, but Nahia hoped she’d go along with the ruse long enough to accomplish their goal, and Amelia would not be pleased, but would hopefully follow Mags’ lead.

Ignoring the collective misgivings of the room, she focused solely on her opponent. “You wanted this. I came here with peaceful intentions, but you wanted to do this the hard way.” She spit into the circle and held up her hand. She drew her athame down her palm and blood dripped into the circle.

The room echoed with screams of protest. Mags. Amelia. McManus, because he knew what she’d done and what it meant. And Nico and Nigel out of confusion, she was pretty sure. Either way, all the cards were on the table. She’d brought a rocket launcher to a gun fight, even if her right hand was now on the growing list of casualties from this adventure.

“Now, as I said, Donnell McManus, you will get your ass back in that circle, or so help me—” her threat was cut off by the rush of cold past her as McManus took his place between the three women. He knew now that she was serious, at least she hoped he did. “I bind you,” she spat scornfully. “In the name of everything I hold dear, I bind you.” Mags and Amelia repeated the binding and then they all said it together, finally, finally completing the ritual.

All at once, it was silent again. The summer’s heat returned by almost imperceptible degrees until Nico’s skin no longer prickled from the cold. He peered out of the hallway at Nigel, whose mouth hung open in mute shock and eyes only blinked sparingly.

“Everybody okay?” Nahia asked, her voice sounding as on edge as he felt.

“Good here,” he said immediately and met her gaze, the love between them almost tangible right in that moment.

“Ni, talk to me,” she demanded sharply, probably still feeling the adrenaline dump, though the danger had passed.

“I gotta piss,” was the disgruntled answer she got from him, sending a ripple of much-needed laughter through the group. At least he wasn’t alone in that.

“All right, then. Hang tight, we’re almost done.” They all knelt and grabbed the candles by their feet. They each poured hot wax over the crystal in the center of the circle. They then stood and held hands, chanting again before turning to their altars. Nahia had to relight her candles and reconsecrate her altar, but she did it. From his spot in the darkened passageway, he couldn’t see her injuries, but he planned to check her over the moment it was done.

The feeling in the room, and he’d bet in the whole house, had gone from varying levels of menace and malevolence, to…nothing. A peaceful, quiet, nothing.

The clean up was a lot easier than the set up, spilled blood and solidified wax notwithstanding. He and Nigel joked around as they tore down the covers on the mirrors in the hallway while Nahia and Mags went down to the basement and finished the ritual by smudging the space with sage. Nico feared he would smell like Thanksgiving dinner for the rest of his life, or at least until he showered. Amelia wrapped the crystal in a black cloth with some indecipherable writing on it, and then placed it in a wooden box with a seal before stowing it with the rest of her gear. He wasn’t sad to see it go.

He honestly couldn’t get over the feeling in the house, or rather, the lack thereof. It was now just an old, empty house, and nothing more. He walked from room to room on the second floor, taking in the sun-faded curtains and the beautiful crown moldings. This place would be stunning once they finished remodeling it. He actually looked forward to returning after the construction ceased, if only to see the place in its rightful glory.

Nahia and Mags’ laughter at the top of the stairs brought him out of the bedroom, and his eyes caught on her right hand, now bandaged in a strip torn from the bottom of Mags’ skirt. As soon as she saw him, Nahia left her friend and ran straight to him, launching herself into his arms. The joy and excitement in her smile was contagious, and before she could say anything, he covered her face in kisses. Her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, finally settling his mouth over hers in a deep kiss, all the fear and tension of the previous few hours draining out of them through their connection. She hissed in pain as his arms tightened around her.

“Nye, babe,” he started, as he began to catalogue her battle scars. Her hair would recover, the wax would come out, though the bottom of her braid was singed beyond rescue. Her shoulder around her tank top was a black streaked red and starting to blister a bit. “Damn, honey.”

Cupping the side of his face with her good hand, her lips curled in a wry grin. “Don’t suppose you’d believe it looks worse than it is?”

At her big innocent eyes dancing with her laughter, he crushed her tightly to him, burying his face in her neck. “Do
not ever
scare me like that again,” he muttered into her soft, slightly damp skin. “I mean it, not ever. My heart can’t take it.”

“Christ Almighty, get a room!” Nigel hollered from where he leaned against the hallway. He was grinning like an idiot and his suit looked like he’d spent the last three hours crawling through an air duct, though he was sure he looked no better.

“Shut it, you!” she mock-growled as she stalked past him to finish taking down her altar and pack up the room. Everything was as it was before, all the chalk markings rubbed out and the circles erased. Surveying her handiwork with a pleased grin, she nodded. “Like we were never here.” She then led them downstairs and out onto the porch for a quick admonition of, “No hitchhikers, no riders, no fares, and I mean it this time!” Then they all left, content to know the work was done.