Honeymoon of the Dead (12 page)

“Can I ask? What’s happened?” Larkin’s voice was soft and soothing. He really was a sweet guy, and he reminded me so much of William just then I forgot how crazy I’d sound if I said:

“It’s all the damn trolls and the monkeys and Homeland Security.”

“Monkeys?” Larkin’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he chewed on my response. Slowly, a smile spread across his thin face. Whiskers disappeared into dimples. “You know, conversations with you were always so . . . challenging. I miss that.”

“Uh, thanks,” I said with a final sniff, though I wasn’t entirely sure how to take that. Minnesotans were notorious for their veiled insults. To describe something as “interesting” meant you found it vaguely inappropriate or offensive. To be “unique” was to be downright certifiable. So who knew how I should take “challenging”?

“You know,” Larkin said after a few moments of smiling broadly at me, “if you’re in town for a while, some of us are getting together for the full moon over at Courtney’s place tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t know . . .” I mean, all the people who remembered me and Liza and Larkin would be there, wouldn’t they?

“I’m sure everyone would be glad to see you,” Larkin assured me. “Time heals all wounds, you know.”

Did it? Or would I just leave that many more screwups in my wake after a thousand years?

“You’ve got to come for Courtney’s food, at any rate. Don’t you remember her scones?”

I did. Despite all the food I’d ingested, my stomach made happy noises.

“Courtney’s is the house with the fire pit in the backyard?” I asked, mentally dredging an image from my memories.

“Yeah,” he said, standing up. He gave me the rest of the details and added, “Dress warmly, if you come. And, you know, bring your husband . . . if he’s the sort. Either way, I’m sure everyone would like to meet him.”

“ ’K,” I said, waving good-bye as he headed for the door. “It was nice running into you.”

He gave me a long stare, like he was trying to decide if I was being sarcastic or not.

“Seriously,” I said, because I felt I had to.

Larkin’s eyes dropped. “What is it we always say? Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.”

That was a strange thing to leave me with. It was usually said after magic was performed in a group, and I dunno, I didn’t exactly “merry part” with Larkin. It was more like “badly part.”

The cowbells on the door clanged as Larkin stepped out. Wind from outside brushed me coldly.

 

 

I brooded over Larkin until I started to feel genuinely
depressed and my butt got sore from sitting for so long. Besides, the reversal spell was way overdue. I needed to find a place to do my magic, and the cafe was too crowded. I could go back to the hotel, except Lilith had trashed the room. As cold as it was, I felt certain I could find a quiet spot somewhere outside.

In fact, River Road had a number of secluded spots that would do the trick. Though I could easily walk the six or seven blocks from the Seward Cafe to the Mississippi, I decided to go in the car. That way, if Sebastian or the consulate called, I could get to them quickly.

Franklin Avenue and its odd collection of art galleries, co-op groceries, and trashy apartment buildings led directly to the river. In practically no time, I found myself snaking along the curvy road looking for a likely, out-of-the-way spot. Despite the subzero temperatures, plenty of runners and bicyclists frequented the sidewalks and street. From my previous knowledge of this area, I knew that it would get just more populated the closer I got to Lake Street and the Longfellow neighborhood. As soon as I could, I made a tight U-turn and headed back toward Franklin and the University of Minnesota’s West Bank campus.

The road dipped closer to the river proper, and a sandstone cliff rose sharply on the left side, blocking my view of the city. Bare, gnarled trees clung precariously to crannies in the hillside, some growing almost horizontal to the ground, giving the whole area a much wilder, untamed, magical feel.

Plus, the instant I crossed back over Franklin, the atmosphere of River Road grew quiet and still. It was almost as if I’d passed some unseen barrier between the worlds . . . or that the faeries guarded this section of the riverbank.

Now we were talking.

This was
just
what I was looking for.

The only problem was that between the natural barriers of the cliff and the river, the road became quite a bit narrower and there was no real place to park the car.

When I finally found a spot, it was marked Permit Parking Only, but, as the place was deserted, I paid it no mind.

Crossing the street, I headed into the woods. I didn’t have to be outside to do this spell, but it was always easier for me to get in the mood when surrounded by wildlife. The cliff had become more hill-like here, and I scrambled up the slippery, icy slope. I pulled myself upward by grabbing onto the rough bark of nearby tree shrubs. The flora was pretty sparse and I could still see the road, but all I really needed was a nice spot to sit for a second. A fallen tree provided just the place.

Wedging myself between some remaining branches, I sat. The Mississippi was almost completely covered in ice, though a small, slender spot near the center remained open water. A black crow cawed loudly as it passed overhead, chased by a gang of sparrows.

Seemed like a sign to me—a natural metaphor for my beleaguered life—so I got ready to cast the reversal. I closed my eyes and took in a deep, grounding breath. Once I felt myself relax, I reached out a gloved hand and traced a circle around myself. I didn’t need to call any elements, as I was surrounded by them. I breathed in air, the sun heated my face with a soft fire, I felt water in the ice melting through my jeans onto my butt, and the earth lay under my feet.

My previous spell had been kind of a meditation on what I’d wanted. I’d burned a candle and tried to visualize a honeymoon without hiccups. Since it was all mental, perhaps the easiest way to dissolve my intention was to write it out, in the snow, and simply erase it.

I took my finger and wrote
a normal life
. With the soft snow, it wasn’t entirely legible, but I knew what it said and that was the point.

Taking a moment, I meditated a little about what normal meant in my life.

Although perhaps
meditate
was really too strong a word, as I tended to focus on something—this time the ice-covered Mississippi—and let my mind ramble a bit around the subject. Running into Larkin had brought back memories of my life before Lilith. Bright Goddess, it was a sad day when demolishing a hotel room was considered a success because at least no one ended up dead.

Athena seemed to offer a more peaceful form of protection. I wished there was a way to trade. Maybe I could trade in the Mother of Demons for the Goddess of Wisdom?

Goodness knows I could stand to be wiser. Wisecracking I had a good handle on; making smart decisions about magic or people, not so much.

Above, I heard a strange sound, like a hoot. I glanced toward the sky and saw a snowy owl perched on a barren cottonwood limb, preening its feathers. When it caught me looking, it blinked once slowly, and then took off on silent wing.

Lilith’s bird was an owl, but wasn’t the owl one of Athena’s symbols too? How strange that both Lilith and Athena shared that.

Looking at my markings melting in the sun, I tried to focus a bit more on my spell’s intent. Out loud, I said somewhat ruefully, “Normal for me is messed up. I don’t need any more of that, thank you very much.”

With that, I rubbed it out from right to left.

“So mote it be,” I said.

Lilith stirred, as though weakly trying to add Her strength to the spell casting. At the same time, I felt a different presence settle over me for a moment. A shadow fell over me that seemed to be in the shape of a woman warrior, with muscles of steel, a shield, and a toga like the one Russell Crowe wore in
Gladiator
.

I scanned for the source, but it was only a cloud passing in front of the sun. My stomach dropped strangely. A sudden dizzy spell nearly toppled me from my log.

Then the feeling was gone. Had I raised power to end the spell? Something certainly happened. I could only hope it was what I needed. It wasn’t much of a spell, but all it had to do was release whatever forces might be in play.

Then I wiped out the circle I’d cast around myself, only in the opposite direction. With a shiver of released energy as well as cold, I got up and headed back to my car.

Somehow, I’d gotten a traffic ticket. I grabbed it off the window with a silent curse, which I doubled when I noticed that a message was flashing on Sebastian’s phone. Still, I took it as a good sign. Sebastian had been freed. I just needed to go pick him up.

 

 

Sebastian had the look of the proverbial bird whose
feathers had been ruffled when I picked him up in front of the immigration office.

And he looked cold.

Even though I knew he was impervious to the weather, my muscles gave a sympathetic shiver to see him standing on the snowy corner without a coat.

“I am going to kill someone,” he said firmly, as he slid into the driver’s seat I’d vacated as soon as I found a nearby parking spot.

“Oh?” He might be serious. He was a vampire, after all.

Sebastian pulled out into traffic. Downtown office buildings cast long, dark shadows on the narrow, busy streets. The growl of rumbling engines and the ding of the light- rail train penetrated the closed windows.

“Yes, and I think I’m going to start with that James Someone and then drain the life from all those Illuminati Watchers.”

“Why?” Not that I didn’t agree, I was just curious, you know.

“Because I’m sure someone tipped off Homeland Security to all sort of ‘irregularities’ in my history, and currently he’s my only stalker. Besides, when I pushed Homeland Security guys on their sources they got all huffy, like they were embarrassed to have fallen for that conspiracy theory stuff. I’m sure it was James.”

“James is in the Green Order of Garters or something like that, not the Illuminati Watch,” I corrected, turning up the heater a notch. Ice clung to the hairs of Sebastian’s arm.

Sebastian was so distracted by the news that he nearly turned the wrong direction down a one-way street. Of course, in downtown Minneapolis that was easy to do. It seemed every other one had a Do Not Enter sign. He sputtered, “The Order of the Green Garter?”

“That’s what he said. Why? Is that bad?” I asked.

“No, just strange.”

I hated that I always ended up having to ask questions like this, but I really was not up on my conspiracy nut-jobs. Monsters and magic, sure, but who shot JFK or where Atlantis went, not so much. “What’s the Order of the Green Garter, anyway? Do I even want to know?”

“That’s the odd thing. They’re just, you know, knights.”

“You mean, like, King Arthur knights?”

“Well, Arthur was the king, but yes.”

“Okay, thanks for the technicality, nerd-boy.” I sighed inwardly, but gave him a smile to soften my words. “So riddle me this: Why would a knight be sworn to protect you?”

“That would be silly. No one is.”

“Well, James said he was,” I noted, though I was suddenly less sure those were quite the words he’d used.

“Then he’s just crazy.”

I didn’t know what to say in response to that, especially since it was very likely true. In a way, it would be a relief. Having a crazy guy stalking you seemed pretty normal compared to everything else in our lives. Maybe the reversal spell was already doing its magic.

Sun glittered on gray steel and glass office buildings. Interspersed were older, brick facades, and those with ornate stone carvings, their beauty lost among the taller shadows.

I wanted to tell Sebastian the good news about the spell reversal, but I’d never quite gotten around to explaining the problem in the first place. Well, I thought, with a little internal shrug, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Now that all the strangeness of faeries and monkeys and trolls was sure to fade, I should concentrate on salvaging what was left of this honeymoon. As long as Lilith doesn’t interrupt us again, that is.

Glancing over at Sebastian, who squinted into the bright sunlight, I wondered what regular people talked about. Oh! I could ask about his day. “So I guess everything worked out with Immigration?”

“Oh yes,” Sebastian said in a clipped tone that implied he was still quite angry about the whole situation. “There will be a formal apology issued by the U.S. government if I have anything to say about it.”

“Wow,” I said.

“There is one thing I’ve learned that has stayed true in every century: Money talks.”

I mumbled my agreement. Sometimes it was hard to believe I’d married such a staunch capitalist, though his comment got me thinking about those “Eat the Rich” guys who attacked me. Hmmm, was that another need-to-know-basis thing Sebastian didn’t need to know?

It all depended, of course, if they were part of the not-normal normal of our life. On the surface, they seemed pretty mundane and not at all magical, which would put a big check in the “I should tell him” column. Plus, if he somehow found out I neglected to mention an attack, he might get pretty cranky. Like any good alpha male, Sebastian wants to be my protector, even if he knows I’m carrying a pretty high-powered Goddess and can mostly take care of myself.

Mostly.

Frowning, I placed my hand over my stomach where I always imagined Lilith slumbering, coiled up like a snake. I could sense Her presence, but it seemed somehow muted, distant. Maybe She was feeling as off me as I was of Her.

It struck me as a little odd, but maybe Her detachment was a good thing. I mean, Lilith was all about vengeful passions. And why I got stuck with Her of all Goddesses when I put out an open call for help that night when the witch hunters attacked, I never really have understood. I mean, maybe She was on my mind because my coven had been studying the Sumerian pantheon, but I’ve often wondered why me, why Her?