How to be Death (26 page)

“You would think the women, with their delicate natures,” Erlik was saying, “would be the ones to need something to steady their nerves.”

I guess I wasn’t the only one paying attention to their conversation because as I watched, Morrigan sat up in her chair, disengaging her hand from where it rested high on Caoimhe’s thigh. She glared angrily at the Siberian Vice-President in Charge of Asia.

“Delicate natures?” she said frostily. “There is nothing delicate about any of the women you see here tonight and I resent your sexist implications.”

Erlik laughed, a throaty guffaw of condescension that made my blood boil. Morrigan took instant umbrage at the affront, and before anyone could stop her, she was out of her seat and across the room, her pale white fingers around Erlik’s meaty throat. As she squeezed, she leaned in very close to his face and grinned at him, her face a malevolent mask.

“I could disembowel you so quickly, your guts would be steaming at your feet long before you even realized they were gone.”

Erlik tried to respond, but Morrigan’s fingers were like stone and he could only manage a strangled growl.

“Morrigan, please, let him go,” I found myself saying as I realized I was on my feet and already marching toward her.

She turned her head, her auburn hair red as blood in the firelight. Even though I was still halfway across the room, I stopped moving forward, truly frightened by the vehemence in her gaze.

“Stay away from me, little Death,” she snarled, her claws tightening around Erlik’s throat.

As powerful as Erlik’s appearance made him seem, he was no match for Morrigan. She was aggression unbridled, her murderous grip just an extension of the all-consuming rage I saw reflected in her eyes—rage that was now directed entirely at me. In a flash, she’d released Erlik from her cruel embrace and was heading toward me, her movements as fluid as a predatory cat.

I didn’t know if I was supposed to run away or stand my ground, but it all happened so quickly I was forced into the latter. I felt, rather than saw, Morrigan’s hands reaching for me—and my body reacted before my brain could screw me over and tell it to freeze. I crouched down, dropping my chin into my chest to protect my vulnerable neck from Morrigan’s grasping fingers, then I shot forward, using all my strength and Morrigan’s own forward motion, to ram the top of my head into the soft fleshiness of her gut.

My head butt was more than effective. Morrigan made a funny gurgling noise as she clutched her belly then dropped to her knees. Instantly Caoimhe was on her feet, but she looked torn: Should she go to Morrigan or to me? I shook my head, letting her know I wasn’t the one who needed her attention. She frowned and turned away from me, but not before Morrigan had seen the exchange, her eyes rigid with pain and rage.

Afraid she was going to come after me again, I took a step back, but Caoimhe’s calming touch seemed to ease her aggression and she dragged her murderous eyes away from my face, her attention now on her lover.

“Calliope,” Jarvis cried, making his way over to where I knelt, my knees still aching from their impact with the floor
after the head butt, the Oriental carpet having given them no padding at all. “Are you all right?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I was shaken by the attack, my body trembling from the shock of almost having my throat ripped open by a woman’s bare hands. I felt a wet nose pressing against my shoulder and I looked over to find Runt beside me. She started to whine and I looped my arms around her neck, burying my face in the warmth of her midnight coat.

“I’m okay, Runt,” I said, my face against her flank.

I felt a pair of strong arms encircle my waist, lifting me back onto my feet—and I leaned into the heat the other body was giving off, enjoying being in such an intimate embrace.

“You did good,” Daniel whispered in my ear as he let me go, the heat from his body dissipating so fast it felt like it had never existed.

I staggered for a moment, miserable at being wrenched apart from Daniel, but then I found my footing and was able to clear my head. Now was not the time to be getting all mushy over a man—especially when his date was the reason I was trapped in the drawing room with this bunch of crazy people.

“Thanks,” I said to Daniel, smiling up at him, his ice blue eyes anchoring me in place.

The peal of the doorbell echoed throughout the drawing room and my skirmish with Morrigan was forgotten in favor of finding out who was at the front door. Jarvis took the reins, telling everyone to stay where they were.

“I’m sure it’s Detective Freezay, so everyone please remain here in the drawing room until I return,” Jarvis said, looking pointedly in my direction.

Jeez, did the man really think, after all that, I was gonna go jump out a window or something?

“Why do we have to stay here?” Uriah Drood said huffily, once Jarvis was gone.

“Because this is a murder investigation now and the detective will want to talk to us all,” Daniel replied. I could tell Drood wanted to argue the point, but he knew Daniel’s logic was unassailable.

“It’s four thirty in the morning,” Alameda said, yawning. “And frankly, I’m exhausted.”

“I second that,” Oggie said, nodding in Alameda’s direction.
“Everyone is exhausted after the ball and dinner—it’s been a very long night. Maybe we could adjourn now and take this up in the morning?”

Erlik remained silent on this topic, too busy trying to breathe through his bruised windpipe to stir up any more controversy. I looked at the others, waiting for them to weigh in, but all complaints ceased as the door opened and Jarvis returned with what appeared to be a bear of a Nordic man trailing behind him. The man possessed a shock of white-blond hair and muddy green eyes the color of ancient swamp water, the dark green polo shirt and baggy gray-and-black-striped woolen suit pants he wore making him look like a golf caddy. To complete the odd outfit, he had a solid black bowler hat, ringed with a fuzzy red band, perched jauntily on top of his head. As I studied the new addition, he was busy doing the same thing to the rest of the room, his eyes all over the place, taking in the fire, the hellhound, the whiskey, and the assembled guests in their various states of dress. I sensed no judgment, just a healthy curiosity about everything he encountered.

“Detective Inspector Edgar Freezay from the Psychical Bureau of Investigations,” Jarvis said, presenting the detective to the group.

“Thank you, Jarvis, for the introduction, but you may all call me Freezay,” Edgar Freezay said, his gaze lingering on each face in turn as he continued to study the contents of the room. “I try not to stand on ceremony, especially in cases like this. I want you all to feel like you can tell me anything that flits through your pretty little heads. Regardless of how absurd you might think it is.”

I instantly liked Edgar Freezay. He was an odd bird, but I sensed there was more to the man than appeared at first glance. I would’ve bet a hundred bucks he didn’t miss anything, his eyes constantly flicking here and there, curious about everything he saw. With his towhead and unlined face, it was hard to tell just how old the detective was, but I gathered he was somewhere in his mid- to late forties—though with supernatural creatures, there was no way to know if their physical appearance related to their biological age; because usually it didn’t.

“Now, who of you don’t I know?” Freezay continued,
pointing to Naapi, Morrigan, and Donald Ali in turn. “You, I know. You, I know. And you, I don’t know.”

“I’m Donald Ali and this is my Castle.”

Donald Ali was getting testy, either from exhaustion or from the fact that someone didn’t know who he was.

“Nice spot,” Freezay said, then he pointed at the whiskey bottle still open on the sideboard. “Excellent taste in whiskey. Nice to know those stolen bottles made it to a good home.”

Donald Ali’s mouth dropped. I’d never seen a man of his caliber looking so flummoxed before. Usually they were the ones doing the flummoxing, not the other way around.

“I assure you, this bottle is not stolen—”

Freezay shook his head.

“Nope, still stolen. Even if you paid for it, the guy whom you bought it from did not.”

“This is outrageous!” Donald Ali said, his face turning a surreal shade of green. “I want this man out of my house!”

Jarvis stepped in, trying to calm the old man down—though I thought Jarvis had a better chance of calming a raging bull than someone like Donald Ali.

“We are lucky to have Detective Freezay—”

“Just Freezay,” Freezay said.

“Yes, well,” Jarvis went on. “We are lucky to have Freezay here to help us. I and the Board of Death trust him implicitly.”

Donald Ali walked up to Jarvis, shoving his finger into my Executive Assistant’s chest.

“Now you listen here,” he bellowed. “I will not be talked to this way in my own home. I am going upstairs to bed, where any sane person should be at this hour.”

He removed his finger and stormed out of the room on slippered feet, glaring at the detective all the way to the door. The rest of the room was silent as he nearly slammed the door off its hinges on his way out.

“I suppose he’s right … this
is
his house,” Freezay said, looking thoughtful as he chewed on a thumbnail. Then he twisted his head in my direction and gave me a sly wink. “But from this moment forward, I’m in charge. And that means no one, and I mean
no one
, is leaving the Haunted Hearts Castle until I say so.

“Now that we’ve settled that,” Freezay continued, smiling, “I’m going to want to speak with everyone individually, so stay in the main house or on the nearby grounds because I don’t want to have to chase any of you down.”

Donald Ali’s departure had put a seed of disquiet in the group. No one wanted to stay at the Haunted Hearts Castle if there was a murderer on the loose—especially when everyone’s immortality was null and void for the remainder of All Hallows’ Eve.

Uriah Drood was the first to protest the enforced quarantine.

“I’m not staying here one minute longer than I have to,” he said, pulling his robe tightly around his middle and heading for the door.

“And how do you plan on leaving?” Freezay asked curiously. “Do you have a car?”

“Well, I … I …” Drood spluttered. “You know I don’t have a car. Who needs a car when they can just call up a wormhole?”

Freezay leaned against the mantel of the fireplace, arms folded across his chest.

“I have a car. I’m sure Donald Ali has a car, but you, my friend?” Freezay grinned. “You’re shit out of luck. No wormholes until midnight, so unless you plan on walking down to town, I don’t think you, or anyone else here for that matter, are going anywhere.”

Uriah Drood glared at Freezay, unhappy with the way he’d been shot down so succinctly.

“Anyone else want to argue the point with me?” Freezay asked.

There were no takers.

“Good,” he continued. “And let’s make one thing clear. I will listen to anything you have to say, but if you waste my time with bullshit claptrap, well, let’s just say, I don’t suffer fools gladly.”

“Freezay,” Jarvis said, indicating the drawing room, “why don’t we make this our interview room since everyone knows where it is?”

“Makes perfect sense, Jarvis,” Freezay agreed. “Now, first things first: Who discovered the body?”

I raised my hand.

“I did.”

“Me, too,” Runt added.

“All right, let’s clear the room, folks,” he said, dismissing everyone with a wave of his hand. “Then we can get this investigation on its feet.”

Everyone started to clear out, Runt and me included—but Freezay called us back.

“Not the two of you,” he said, pointing at Runt and me. “And, Jarvis, you’ll stay, of course.”

I watched as the rest of the group shuffled out, most of them probably going back to their rooms to get a little shut-eye, something I found myself really envying.

“It’s nice to see you again,” I heard Freezay say to Caoimhe as she made her way to the door.

“You, as well,” she said, smiling shyly at him.

“Things have been … good?” he asked, taking off his hat and running the brim through his fingers.

“Very good,” she said, nodding.

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hat.

“Good,” he said. “Well, I’m sure I’ll be speaking to you again shortly.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said mysteriously—and I watched, curiously, as Freezay followed her to the door, shutting it softly behind her retreating back. It was an odd exchange—and since I’d been having my own odd conversations with Caoimhe, I decided to file it away for more thought at a later date.

“My God,
that’s
a group,” Freezay said, once everyone was gone. “I was afraid if I didn’t get them out fast, they were going to get chummy and then I’d never be able to get them to do anything. Conquer and divide. That’s my mantra.”