Blood of an Ancient (12 page)

“It’s not ego. I was cursed, unable to be around my own kind, and therefore I was vulnerable. No sprite community allows a vampire. So, I doubt there are others of my kind and if there were, they certainly wouldn’t show themselves to me. We’re territorial.”

“So how do we feed you?”

He scowled, fluttered back and forth in front of me. “I don’t require a feeding. I’m no spriteling.” He came closer, sniffed me.

It took effort to resist flicking him with my finger again. “Can’t resist the hell dimension stench, can you?”

“You also smell of honey.”

“That’s what you eat? Honey or bees?”

Tiny fangs showed when he grimaced. “I chew no flesh of any kind, but the blood of bees is the perfect food. Did you not notice the hive in my home?” He sank to the bed, shoulders slumping. “I will miss my home.” He looked at Blythe, curled his lip and took a step toward her. “The stomach pain would be worth it.”

“We’re sorry about your place,” I said quickly, moving to the left to block his view of Blythe. “We’re actually on a trip to see if we can do something about her magic. Speaking of which…” I pulled the piece of root I’d cut from the forest and set it on the bed, “…can you tell me what happened to that?”

He reached out a hand, then tittered and shot into the air, zipping back and forth faster than I could see. “Bad. Bad, bad magic.” He slowed, shuddered and lowered himself to the root again. A tiny tongue shot out to lick it. “Not old dead.” He licked again. “Drained of life fast. There isn’t a spark left. Where did you get it?”

“There is an entire section of forest just like that. The witches we’re looking for held a concert there and this was the result.”

He moaned, cradled the root, and started pacing.

Apparently the silly creature wasn’t all that evil. When it came to plants anyway.

“This is not magic from witches. Whatever took this life came from the same place as the poison still living in your body. Poison that smells stronger now.” He flew closer to me. “You need healing magic on your leg. I can smell the stench of that wound. Goddess-born or not, it will kill you.”

Blythe stepped closer to the bed and tugged the scarf off her mouth. “What’s he talking about?”

I sighed because the last thing I needed was Blythe and her wickedly warped magic going on a crusade to heal me. “Don’t worry about it.”

She got that look, that narrow-eyed, scary witch look I’d seen before. Then she stomped her little foot. I smirked. Nope, no longer scary.

That seemed to piss her off because she raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Phro. “Let me see your leg.”

“Okay, but later. I want to know what the sprite is talking about.”

“Fenris,” he reminded me.

“Fenris,” I repeated. “You’re saying that something from that lowest dimension is nearby? Do you know what it is?”

“I do not. It’s old, feeds on life force and dark magic. And it is ravenous. That’s all I know.” He set the root down, licked his hand. He must have caught my surprised look. “Trying to kill the taste.”

I held up the leash. “Let’s go get you some real food. We won’t have to go far. Bees like me.”

“I won’t leave. I can’t now, even if I wanted to. No sprite could walk away from something that destroys plant life, not even one with my dual nature.”

“Humor me. You earn the trust, we’ll lose the leash.”

He snarled, but let me clip the tiny collar around his neck. Once outside, I found the air had cooled considerably. Street lamps bathed the entire area with light, which was great for security, but not so great if you were walking your sprite vampire on a leash. I took him to the thicker part of the forest behind the motel. Even though I felt bad about calling bees to their death, I hummed and they came. I had to turn away. Wrapping my jacket tighter around myself, I watched my breath fog in the air and waited a couple of minutes. The slight tug and stop on the leash let me know he was doing his thing.
Gross.

My rib ached. My leg throbbed. My shoulder stung. Hell, my whole body hurt from that squeeze. “He said shadow,” I murmured to myself. “Why did he say shadow?”

“Who said shadow?” Fenris asked. There was a stronger tug on the leash.

“Guess one of those pissed-off baddies you told me about found me. I fought a Kuru-Pira today. He whispered or growled something in my ear. Sounded like shadow.”

“There is a reservoir of darkness in us all, creature and human, even in ones who lean toward the light. It’s the innermost darkness—that which leads to darker paths.” Fenris flew around to hover in front of me while he wiped his mouth with a tiny handkerchief.

Amused by his brainy speech, I couldn’t help but smile. “Why would a weird, hairy creature who’d been assembled all wrong talk about my innermost darkness?”

He shrugged, tucked his handkerchief into his pocket. “Probably because yours is easy to detect.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s suppressed, hunkered down and waiting, but there. Something attached to you, something that you probably inherited. You have a pure heart, but whatever this is, isn’t so pure.” His tiny head cocked to the side and he suddenly shot up into the air, making the leash stretch far.

I tugged on it, but he came back toward me fast.

“Something is breaking into your room.”

Before the words were completely out of his mouth, I ran toward the room, pulling out a knife as I moved. The muscles in my thighs screamed because it was all uphill. When I spotted brown hair, I thought we had another of those creatures, but when I ran to the back of my Jeep, I recognized the awkward gate of a thing I’d hoped never to see again.

The ghoul, obviously alive again, and probably still after that damned book. He’d given us so many problems a few months back. He’d shape-shifted into a cop with a Brad Pitt face, tore up Blythe’s shop, sicced a group of teens on us, then showed up at Big Cypress Swamp with dweller demons.

I stalked toward the open door. “Thought you worked for the Dweller. You just decide you missed me? That why you came all the way up here?”

He swung around and I grimaced, pretty sure he hadn’t bathed since I saw him last. He even had some dried, crusty brown stuff on the side of his head that looked like old blood. His coppery hair was even more matted than before, which surprised me because I’d thought ghouls were vain. Low, bulbous eyes, no nose and no lips made him look plain ridiculous. I assumed the vanity worked in his favor when it came to his own species. To mine, he was just plain ugly. And gross.

And I hated the uneven stagger of his hooved steps, the loud clomp of them on the asphalt.

His eyes flared wide when he saw me and he backed into the open door. “Don’t hit me!”

“You really think you’re in a position to order me around when you’re breaking into my room?”

“I just want the book.”

I crossed my arms, leaned on the front of the Jeep. “Why? Your boss is gone.”

“I’m a freelancer. I work for myself.”

“So someone else hired you to get the book? How did this person, thing or whatever know about it?”

“Everyone knows you have the book, just like everyone knows you’re a walking dead woman.”

That phrase was starting to get on my nerves. “And who is everyone?” I looked over at the tiny vamp who hovered in the air behind me. “Think he’s talking about all the baddies?”

“Probably.” He eyed the ghoul with an expression of complete disgust on his tiny green face. “What book?”

“Ah, see?” I looked back at the ghoul. “Not everyone knows about the book.” I straightened, moving away from the bumper. “Sorry you came all this way for nothing. The book isn’t here.”

“Then I’ll just take you.”

I let out a very unladylike bark of laughter.

He scowled. Something scurried through the hair on his jaw. “You don’t take me seriously. This is a failure that will come back to haunt you. Especially when you decide it’s time to know more about what your father might have given you.”

My spine snapped taut. “What did he give me?”

The ghoul chuckled. “Someday, I’m going to enjoy watching you die, but right now this world is a little more fun knowing you’re stumbling about in it blindly with that…that creature you call a brother.”

“I’ll show you blind.” I pulled my dagger from the wrist sheath and took a step toward him.

“You again!” Blythe, who must have been in the shower, came running into the room, wet hair dripping into her eyes, her hands in the air. She held out her palms and blew some powdery substance at the ghoul. “Be gone, demon!”

The screech that came out of the ghoul made me wince. “Agh! My eyes! It burns!” He ran around the room, hit the dresser, and the little figurine I’d bought for my sister tilted.

“Blythe, grab the giraffe!”

“What is this vile stuff?” The ghoul, still screaming with his hands over his eyes, tripped over my bag, hit his head on the doorjamb. He rolled out of the room and onto the sidewalk.

Blythe handed me the giraffe and I cradled it to my chest.

“So what did you blow at him?”

“Mugwort. It’s supposed to banish demons.”

Phro appeared, rolled her eyes and hopped up to sit on the small table in the corner. “Beri explained to you that ghouls aren’t demons. All you’ve done is given him a wicked case of flaming eyeballs.”

The ghoul stood, eyes squinted, the hair all around his eyes wet. He growled and ran at Blythe. I stepped in front of her and punched him where his nose should have been. Anger fueled his jerky movements as he danced back and then forward again. He swung his right fist. I stepped aside but he was faster, twisting and hitting me with his left, hard, in the gut.

“Oomph,” I grunted, curling in with the pain.
My poor rib.

He looked at Blythe with murder in his dripping, bloodshot eyes. Shaking my head, I straightened and moved in front of her again. “This is stupid. Just leave before I knock you in the head again.” Hitting ghouls behind the ear kills them. I’d killed this one before. Unfortunately, they could be hit again and come back to life.

He hesitated.

I sighed, not in the mood for another fight and certainly not in the shape for it. “Look, I’m tired and I don’t have the book and you will never find it. I hid it. Tell me who wants it this time?”

He ran his hands down his disgusting fur. “Who doesn’t? Word got out and the bidding war has begun. I’m not the only freelance retriever out there.” He cleared his throat. “I’m prepared to pay for it.”

True surprise sent my eyebrows up. “Really. You have the kind of money that book is worth?”

“I don’t, but I can get you a percentage once the bidding war is done.”

Blythe gasped behind me. “You’re trying to play us and you make me sick. I will never sell my book because it’s a treasured gift.”

He wiped at one eye that still dripped, then gave us a shrewd sort of creepy-ass smile. “But Beri is homeless. I’m sure she could use the money to buy a new home for her sister.”

Instant fury flooded my body. “Tell me you didn’t burn down my sister’s house and tell me fast.”

His disgusting face twisted as he laughed. “Wasn’t much left of it, was there?”

“You’re bragging?
Fucking bragging?
This time, I’m cutting your head off so you can’t come back.” I took a step toward him.

He finally started to look nervous, but I didn’t have time to do anything because Blythe threw out her hands and he caught fire.

Shrieking, he began patting himself down. The fire only grew and he dropped to roll on the ground. Before the fire could go out, Blythe did it again and this time, I caught a trace of something arcing through the air from her fingers. The ghoul screamed and took off, his hooves clattering loudly on the pavement in between his terrified yells.

“Guess he’ll find out the lake is the other way,” I murmured, watching the light of the fire disappear around the buildings of the strip mall. I turned to Blythe. “That was something else. Is it what you did today in the parking lot? And why haven’t you done that before? That would have come in handy with the dweller demons.”

“I didn’t know I could do it before, but it’s not good. Look.” She pointed and I followed the direction only to see the grass had caught fire. I ran over to stomp it out. “And that,” she yelled, pointing toward the motel room. The curtains were on fire.

“Shit, Blythe!” I ran into the room, tugged hard on the heavy curtains and ended up pulling the bolted rod out of the wall. I threw them outside. Some other people staying in the motel ran over to stomp out the flames.

I wondered if they’d seen the ghoul or the little vampire I’d lost, then just slumped against the wall. I didn’t care. Exhaustion pulled at every sore muscle in my body. Our room smelled like burnt rubber, so I straightened and squared my shoulders. “Blythe, pack everything up. I’m getting us another room.”

It took a couple hundred bucks to keep us in the motel and when we finally settled into our beds, I hoped it wouldn’t be one of my usual tossing-and-turning nights. Blythe lay down and dropped off to sleep instantly. My brain didn’t want to shut down so fast and I thought of the dead forest, the young spirits in medieval clothes and the shadow business.