The energy stopped abruptly, and I felt as if I had just run a marathon. Why don’t magic objects ever come with instructions? I thought. It would have been nice to know I only get one shot before I have to ‘reload’. Grimly, I grabbed Alard’s walking stick, since it looked as if the spoon-athame and the souped up power it got from the jade torc needed time to recharge.
Sorren went for the second akvenon with his sword, his speed and vampire strength easily a match for the creature. Bo’s ghost harried the third minion. Teag bent down to pick up a rock the size of his fist from the gutter and let fly. The rock struck the third minion right between its slitted reptilian eyes. He lobbed off two more shots, smacking the akvenon in the head both times. Every time it tried to advance on Sorren, Teag forced it back again. At this rate, he should pitch for the Yankees.
The rocks had kept the minions at a distance, but that wasn’t going to last forever. Sorren already had his sword in hand, and Teag drew his new short sword and dagger. Warily, they advanced on two of the akvenon, while I took aim at the third.
Sorren went left. Teag went right, and I sent my shot down the middle. Sorren had immortal strength and speed, making him a match for the creature. Teag wasn’t immortal, but he was damn good. Years of martial arts made him quick on his feet, able to make lightning-quick strikes and get back before the monster’s claws could strike. He had blades in both hands, but the minion underestimated what Teag could do with his feet. Eskrima had taught him blade work; Capoeira taught foot fighting and acrobatics.
Put them together, and he was lethal as he swept the minion off its legs, then followed with a kick that could break bones. By the time the minion came back for more, Teag was ready with his blades. I wished I could watch, but I had my own akvenon to fight.
I leveled the walking stick at the akvenon and used the ring to focus my thoughts, managing to blast a torrent of fire that blackened the monster’s tough skin. The creature recoiled, then charged me again. I concentrated harder, hoping to get fire that was hotter, longer in duration. I heard a popping, sizzling sound and an ungodly shriek, and the akvenon exploded into charred bits that disintegrated and vanished.
Mirov’s Sig popped once, then twice, its suppressor muting the sound of the shots. The rounds slowed the akvenon rushing him, but didn’t stop it. Mirov was cursing under his breath in Russian as he jammed the gun in his belt and took up his sword two-handed and went after the monster.
Lucinda had a short wooden staff in one hand, something else she had pulled from her huge tote. It was festooned with crow feathers and charms bearing the veves of the Loas. She called out a word of power and leveled the short staff at the akvenon like she did this kind of thing every day. A wave of power blasted the creature back, slamming it into one of the other akvenon. That slowed them down, but didn’t stop them.
Mirov pivoted out of the way of the akvenon’s sharp claws and brought his sword down hard on the monster’s neck, severing its head. With a cry, he ran at the next minion. He slashed low, severing one of the thing’s legs, then brought the blade point down, through its chest. It was already disintegrating into shadow when the third minion sprang forward, slashing at him with its claws.
Mirov blocked the creature with his sword as his left hand grabbed for something under his jacket.
Silver glinted in the moonlight as he flung a knife-edged throwing star at the beast. The star blade caught the akvenon in the neck, spraying the alley with its ichor. Mirov wheeled, bringing his sword down with his full strength, impaling it from one side through the other. The creature jerked and spasmed, flailing with its deadly claws, and Mirov twisted the blade. With a screech, the akvenon bucked against the blade and then dissipated into darkness.
The air smelled of ozone like after a lightning storm, and my palm was red and blistered. Mirov was breathing hard, splattered with the beast’s black blood. Lucinda kept her short staff aloft, watching the shadows for another attack. Sorren and Teag had both finished off their opponents and walked back to rejoin the group. Their clothing was streaked with ichor, and Teag was sweating, but they looked unharmed.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sorren said. “There’s no good way to explain this to the police, and we can’t stop a demon from inside the Charleston jail.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
EVEN THOUGH IT was Wednesday, we were too busy in the store for Teag and me to talk about anything but business all day. I hadn’t even had time to check the package Sorren had left on my desk. When the time came to close up, I sagged against the wall and closed my eyes, letting out a long breath. “Be careful what you wish for,” I said. “That was the busiest we’ve been all week.”
“At least we can pay the bills,” Teag noted, looking on the bright side.
I had been so busy, I hadn’t had a chance to check the voice mail on my cell phone. I recognized the number and put it on speakerphone.
“Hi Cassidy,” Mrs. Morrissey’s voice chirped from my voice mail. “I did a little more digging on the Navy yard. Turns out that, during the Quake of 1886, there was an old warehouse in that area that was used as a temporary morgue for the victims of the earthquake. It gets worse,” she added. “Back in 1858, there was a Yellow Fever epidemic. It hit Charleston so badly, some churches lost half their membership within a week. Guess where they brought the bodies to try to contain the contagion?” She paused.
“Most of those buildings were on land that sooner or later ended up belonging to Jeremiah Abernathy.
“I hope you don’t mind the long message, but I thought you might want to know. Stop by any time. I always enjoyed helping Evan, and I’m glad to help you, too.”
I put the cell phone back in my pocket, deep in thought. How much had Evan taken Mrs. Morrissey into his confidence? I wondered. Did she have an inkling about what we really did at Trifles and Folly?
Teag had overheard the message. “More evidence that we’re looking in the right place,” he said. I slipped my phone into my pocket.
“Did you get a chance to hack any more of the Stor-Your-Own files?” I asked. I was dying to know who Clockman was and how he fit into the picture.
Teag nodded. “After we got back from seeing Flora and dropping you off, Anthony and I had a bit of a row.”
I looked at him, worried. “Bad?
He shrugged. “Not fun. He’s resigned himself to ghosts, but Flora’s talk about demons, and the possible connection between what we’re dealing with and the murders, has him really freaked out. He’s worried about both of us.”
“What did you tell him?”
Teag looked uncomfortable. “I told him that the shop worked with a secret European organization that looks into supernatural threats, kind of like NSA for ghost hunters. CSI: Undead. Torchwood. He can figure it out.” He sighed. “And then I told him it was all part of a new Homeland Security partnership and I couldn’t say more.”
I didn’t know whether to hug Teag or burst out laughing. “Wow,” I said. “Just…wow. You’re good.
That’s the most inaccurate truth-telling I’ve ever heard.” Teag looked a little sheepish, and I grinned.
“Hey, you were brilliant. And honestly, aren’t you glad he doesn’t want you to get eaten by a demon?”