Given what my blood had done for Cletus and Oscar, plus my own wayward progeny, I had no doubt I could do the job the Grande Dame would one day require of me.
“I’m not a fan of crossing moral lines.” Linus bent to examine a small cluster of flowering plants. “After a while, you stop seeing them. Willful blindness is dangerous for someone like me.”
A man who made life-or-death decisions in his city demanded an intractable moral compass.
“Those are footprints.” I pointed to his left, in a muddy section of ground. “The standing water makes it hard to tell, but you can see the outline. Looks like two sets.”
He investigated my find, taking a moment to snap several photos of the evidence. “You’re right.”
Cletus materialized before me, and his emaciated arm pointed toward the cut stalks.
The wraith piqued my curiosity. “Got something to share?”
A man of few words, he continued to aim a bony finger toward the decimated patch.
“Linus, a little help here?” I caught his attention. “Care to translate?”
Black flooded his eyes in a rush. “A pattern has been cut into the grass on the other side.”
“They’re heavy into symbolism, huh?” I could guess the design and its purpose but not how the vandals thought it would help them without a sacrifice to fuel the tribute. “Will you call this in too?” I nudged a bent stalk with the toe of my wader. “It’s not a crime but…”
“It’s too coincidental. I’ll have to mention it. There might be evidence here that links both incidents.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “We don’t know what this means, if it means anything at all. Until we figure out what’s happening and why, I’m taking every precaution.”
That meant the area would be crawling with Elite soon, and I didn’t want to be here when they arrived.
“Let’s go home.” I started plodding toward the van. “I want to shower for ten years and then eat.”
Linus dried his hands on his pants, his lips pressed flat at the distastefulness of the act. “Save some hot water for me.”
Boaz would have seen that same opening and dove right through it, asking me if I wanted company.
Ugh.
Impact drove me to the ground before I registered its source.
Nine
Water splashed in my face and soaked the front of my clothes. I pushed up, but Hood sprawled over me, a growl revving up his throat. His massive paws dug into the mud on either side of my head, pinning me under him.
“What are you doing?” I wedged my knees beneath me, leveraging him up but not off me. “Linus?”
An arrow sank into the earth a foot away from the tip of my nose.
“Stay with Hood.” Linus rolled his shoulders, and his tattered cloak unfurled. “I’ll dispatch the archer.”
“Wait.” I flung out my arm, but he was gone between one blink and the next. “Hood, go after him.”
The gwyllgi chuffed an amused noise low in his throat then poked me with his paw, urging me forward.
“I hate this,” I hissed, rocking onto my hands and knees. “It’s too wet for me to use sigils for protection.”
All the necromantic tricks in the world wouldn’t help me while I was sloshing through water.
First the Cora Ann and now the marsh. Both locations nullified our greatest advantage. Magic.
Prickling stings washed over my skin as Hood shifted forms, all the better to bark orders.
“Stay low.” His wide palm spread between my shoulder blades. “Keep moving.”
A faint moan drew my attention skyward where Cletus covered our retreat.
We made good time crawling back to the van, and I had a plan ready when my knees hit asphalt.
“Watch my back.” I didn’t give Hood or Cletus a chance to catch me. I shoved to my feet and sprinted the rest of the distance. “Come on, come on.” I yanked on the handles at the rear of the vehicle, and they parted, each supporting half of the cabinet. “There’s got to be ink in here.” I riffled through the drawers until I hit pay dirt. “Gotcha.” With a jar in hand, I kept going until I located a selection of brushes and grabbed the round style I favored. “Hood, get close.” I located the wraith. “Cletus— Actually, never mind. You’re good.”
We needed protection five minutes ago. That meant drawing a quick and dirty circle then assessing the situation.
The first whiff after I cracked the seal made my stomach growl. This was Linus’s ink, his blood, and my gut tightened with want. Talk about your embarrassing side effects.
“Hop in the van,” Hood snarled. “I need to get you out of here.”
The emphasis he placed on need told me Lethe was right. Protecting me was imperative to him.
“I’m not leaving without Linus.” I kept going, marking as fast as I could on the thirsty blacktop. “Get ready. Ward is going up in three…two…” I covered the final six inches, “…one.”
Magic snapped into place around us with an audible click that made my back teeth ache. This was a large circle. I could hold it, but I would have to underpin it better than this if Linus took much longer.
“What can you tell me?” I searched the marsh for signs of our attacker but saw none. “Can you tell if it’s the same clan from the docks?”
“Yes.” Hood stepped up to the line, his chest expanding as he filled his lungs. “I recognize the scent from the arrow fletching.”
About what I figured since death by arrow had to be on the rare side these days. “Any idea how many?”
“Five or six at the start.” He flashed his teeth. “Hard to tell how many are left.”
“Linus…?”
“He’s a powerful man, Grier.” He settled a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”
“He almost died after Atlanta.” I shrugged him off me. “He’s not invulnerable.” An ear-piercing shriek rent the night, and my heart leapt as birds took flight. “I can open the wards—”
“No.” Hood sobered. “I owe a debt to you, not to him.”
“Cletus?” I called out to the wraith. “How’s it going out there?”
The hooded figure drifted closer, his gnarled fingers stroking the barrier as if he might soothe me.
“He’s still here,” I told myself in a quiet voice. “That means Linus is okay.”
Wraiths were the first thing to vanish when the person they were bonded to weakened.
An arrow sailed through Cletus and pinged off the barrier. The wraith cocked his head as a vampire dressed in black tactical gear stepped into view with his next arrow nocked. His lip curled up over his fangs when he grasped the situation.
We might be stuck in the circle, meaning he was safe from us, but he couldn’t attack either.
Stalemate.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “Who sent you?”
The archer ventured closer, studying the ward, Hood, and then Cletus. His avaricious gaze slid over me last. A cocky grin lifted one side of his mouth, and his eyes flashed black. When he spoke, a thick French accent flavored his voice. “You smell divine.”
“Cute.” Divine because I was goddess-touched. “Got any more?”
“I will save the best for later,” he promised. “I would have you die with a smile on your face.”
A chill rippled down my arms at the casual promise, the utter confidence he would kill me.
On the bright side, he answered the most pressing question. Whoever these guys worked for wanted me dead. That eliminated the master, if not the Marchands. Gramps wanted me alive. Hard to marry me off otherwise. After Heloise, Mom’s family might prefer revenge to leaving me under the Grande Dame’s influence. Neither option appealed, if you asked me.
The wraith’s utter calmness kept me level. I was safe, so he must not have felt the urge to act.
“The only one dying today is you, friend.” Hood shimmered, red magic lapping at his feet and splashing up his shins until it submerged him. “Don’t break the circle, Grier.”
The muscular body of Hood’s other form hit the ground with a snarl, the coarse hairs raising along his spine.
Proving he had some sense, the vampire edged back a step when confronted with the slavering beast.
“We need to leave.” A second vampire trotted into the parking lot. “We cannot contain Eidolon much longer.”
This vampire made the second creature to call Linus by that name. First Ambrose and now these rogue vampires. It had the ring of a title, not a slur.
“I cannot breach her wards,” the first vampire told him. “There are other complications as well.”
He fingered the fletching on an arrow he had yet to draw, one I bet was bronze-tipped.
“We will have to convince her to come out, then.” The second vampire plucked at his bowstring as he called, “Bring him.”
Two more vampires emerged, Linus held on his feet between them. His head tipped forward, his neck bent. Blood smeared the front of his shirt and pants. I chose to believe it belonged to them. The alternative made me sick. Even his cloak flickered, insubstantial, his power struggling against whatever they had done to subdue him.
“We have no orders surrounding Scion Lawson,” the second vampire assured me. “We will only harm him if you refuse to cooperate.”
Casually, Hood planted one of his enormous paws over my foot to pin me on the spot.
“What did you do to him?” The inkpot and brush fell from my hand and shattered as I pressed against the barrier. “Linus?”
“Grier,” he grated out, unable to lift his head. “No.”
“Hood.” I offered him my hand. “I can fix this, but I need blood. Fresh blood.” I swallowed. “My blood.”
Further research into my condition had convinced Linus it was safe for me to use my blood in temporary sigils. The design flaked, and the connection to me, if there was one, broke. I had drawn my last tattoo, and solo resuscitations were tabled for now. Those both left permanent marks we were no closer to erasing.