Night of the Living Demon Slayer (16 page)

His grip on my hand tightened. "Maybe you just got lucky."

"Nobody's going in," Aimee said. "A curse like this can kill you. We can get what we need from here."

"I hope you're right." Whatever it was inside the tomb called to me. It wanted me. I ran my hands over the stone once more. I felt the energy surge, the pull of power.

A cloud moved over the moon and the cemetery plunged into even deeper darkness.

I inspected edge of the entrance. Sweat tickled the base of my neck. I found a finger-hold near the top, and deeper inside, a lever.

"Be careful," Aimee hissed.

The time for that was long past.

"Here." I handed Dimitri my Mag-Lite. I pressed the lever and braced myself as the stone fell away from the entrance to the tomb.

Dimitri shone the light inside. The beam illuminated age-blackened walls. Cobwebs and unidentifiable filth clung to the corners and to the sloped ceiling. It smelled of dirt, rot, and death.

He slanted the light toward the floor and I stiffened. "Look," I said, barely above a whisper.

"Sweet Mother," Dimitri hissed.

The tomb stood empty. The bones were gone.

Chapter Fifteen

Aimee edged in close to me, wide eyed. "What happened to the bones?"

My blood ran icy cold. "Why would anyone take dead bodies?"

Aimee stood stock-still. "Spells. Potions."

Dimitri frowned. "Curses."

I had a feeling it was more than that. The spirit in the house had teased me with it:

All blood is not the same.

All bones are not the same.

I felt him stir in the back of my mind. No doubt he wanted me to return for the next piece of the puzzle. I didn't think that was such a hot idea.

Aimee touched my cheek softly, turning my face towards hers. "What was that?"

"I don't know what you mean," I said, pulling away from her touch.

She wasn't swayed. "I think you do."

"It's not important," I told her.

Oh, Elizabeth.
His voice sounded in my head.
How deeply you wound me.

"Let's talk on what's going on with these bones," I said. We couldn't do anything about the spirit right now. Carpenter was another matter. I forced myself to stay focused. "Osse Pade has a little trophy display back at the funeral parlor. Shelves full of bones, with pictures and mementos." It had been creepy enough as a voodoo display. "I didn't realize it was anyone he knew."

"It might not be," Aimee said, her fingers twining around the gris-gris bag hanging from a cord around her neck.

"She's right," Dimitri said. "You're jumping to conclusions. Let's think logically…"

He hadn't seen the voodoo bokor like I had. "Osse Pade jumped off the logic train a long time ago." But I could see the point. At one time, I wanted everything to fit into neat little boxes. Now I knew you sometimes had to go on gut instinct, and right now, this was the only theory that made sense. "Osse Pade is all wrapped up in his ancestors."

"That is part of voodoo," Aimee conceded. "Our loved ones are always with us on the spirit plane."

"I get that, but this is different. He practically worships them." Then it hit me. "Carpenter suspected. That's why he had us come out here. The missing bones must have something to do with what they have planned for your brother." If so, there was only one way to protect him. "We need to get those bones." It would slow them down, at least for now.

"Again," Dimitri said, with a quick glance to the empty grave.

"Oh my goddess," Aimee whispered, her hands fluttering around her neck like birds. "What do you expect me to do? I can't break into a funeral parlor."

I liked where she was going with that, but, "We won't do any breaking and entering," I assured her. Not with the congregation I saw there tonight. "We'll sneak in."

She went a little pale at the suggestion. "We?"

"Me and Dimitri," I corrected. We'd rocked her world enough for one night. And we might need her later. "Plus, I have only one extra sneak spell."

She groaned at that, but she didn't argue.

Dimitri's gaze heated. "Glad we tested out the sneak spell earlier."

I nudged him. "That's one of the things I love about you. You're very thorough."

He grinned and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Let's finish up here."

"I'll do it," I said, moving past him. I closed the tomb with a grunt while Aimee stared at me.

"You're serious about this," she said.

"As a heart attack." I wiped my hands on my pants, trying to ignore the way they tingled. And trying to forget the way that one sneak spell hadn't exactly worked out for me. We'd have to keep it close and hope for the best.

She looked a little shaky. "I can't believe I'm doing this." I didn't know if she meant the tomb breaking and entering or the funeral parlor trip we were about to take.

Either way, "I feel we're getting a lot done tonight," I told her.

She stared at me as if I'd just asked her on a satanic picnic. "My brother is still in a hexed circle; Osse Pade's ancestors are missing; you made me peek into the cursed tomb of a voodoo queen" her voice kept going up and up, "I'm hoping to heaven my husband didn't come home yet, while you two are about to break into a voodoo funeral parlor."

"Like I said. Productive night."

Dimitri gave me a kiss on the forehead and we set out, ignoring the way Aimee got a little huffy on the way out of the cemetery. She may not be used to the way we operated, but I knew she was in it for the long run. That was good, because I had a feeling we'd need her.

***

We didn't speak again until we were over the cemetery wall, and deep into the back alleys leading to Royal Street. Crowds of revelers shouted in the distance and jazz filtered from the clubs.

Aimee led the way, darting around parked motorcycles and trashcans, easing us from one back way to the next.

I tried to keep my mind off the spirit. It only served to draw him.

When you're
not
thinking of me, you're thinking of me.

Damn it.

Don't worry. I like it.

"Lizzie?" Dimitri wrapped an arm around me. "Tell me what's going on."

"It's talking to me again," I said. "The spirit from the house. As soon as my mind even goes there...."

"Then don't," he said quickly. I could tell it scared the heck out of him. "Think of something else."

Easier said than done.

The voodoo mambo glanced over her shoulder at me and made a sign of the cross.

"Don't you start, too," I warned. "You two aren't doing anything to take my mind off this." In fact, at this rate they were going to turn me into a magical hypochondriac.

She sighed and reached into her pocket, drawing out the tied red bundle she'd taken from her altar. "I'd gathered this for my anti-shoplifting spell, but let's use it now. It will give you strength." She folded open the cloth to reveal what appeared to be coffee grounds. "Bend over," she said, reaching up to sprinkle it over my head.

The spirit chuckled as she began to dust the dark grounds over me. But as she emptied her bundle, I could hear his voice fade.

"What is it?" Dimitri asked.

"Grave dirt," she said, tucking the red cloth back into her pocket. "From consecrated ground, not the place we just visited," she said, as if there was a difference.

Who was I kidding? I'd bet there was.

"It drives away bad or simply mischievous spirits," she said softly. Then to both of us, she added, "I saw a lot of activity down the street earlier tonight. Lots of people going in and out of that funeral parlor."

"Same when we stopped by your place." I had a feeling my hunch was right.

Dimitri took my hand as we traveled two more streets, then paused at the edge of an alleyway. I'd lost my bearings for a moment, which was unlike me.

We were farther down than I thought, past Aimee's voodoo shop and right across the street from Osse Pade's funeral parlor.

The sign out front remained dark, but lights blazed from the windows. We watched a guard open the door for a pair of church members, a man and a woman, dressed in white. The security leader had ditched the purple face paint, and he wore a simple white shirt, but I recognized the man who had tried to grab me outside Carpenter's hut.

Four more guards stood outside, two by the front entrance, one by each end of the storefront. I saw a half dozen more on the roof.

"Jackpot," I grinned.

Dimitri squeezed my hand.

"Look at those armed guards," she protested. "This should not excite either one of you."

"It means we're in the right spot to mess things up for him," Dimitri murmured.

"Plus, I have biker witch magic." It was all falling into place.

Of course, this was usually the point where sparks flew and the whole thing exploded.

The crowning glory was when my emerald necklace warmed and began to glow. Aimee watched slack-jawed as the metal chain went liquid and snaked down my neck and chest. "It's defensive," I told her, by way of explanation, as the liquid bronze formed a chest plate that reached down to my leather bustier. The teardrop shaped emerald sat squarely in the middle.

Showtime.

Well, almost. I dug around in my pocket and came out with a round, blue orb with sparkles inside. Sneak spell. I handed it to Dimitri. "Put this in your pants." It was the tightest place I could think where it would stay put and be close to his skin.

Lucky spell.

"I never should have answered my door," Aimee muttered, as Dimitri turned his back to her and slid the spell into place.

"Jam it in there good," I told him, double-checking mine to make sure it was still there.

Snug as a bug in a rug.

Aimee furrowed her brow. "You really think you can get in there? Those people are in suits and dresses and you look like you've been combing your hair with twigs."

Yeah, well, she looked like a rainbow, but I wasn't about to make fun of her wardrobe choices. "You were the one who poured dirt over my head," I reminded her.

Dimitri, as usual, stayed on task. "We've tested the on-the-body sneak spell," he assured her.

"With mind-blowing results," I added.

She seemed to calm at that.

 
"You can be our backup in case things go bad. You don't have to go in. In fact…" I grabbed a pen out of my utility belt. "Here." I took her hand and wrote Grandma's cell number on her palm. "Call the biker witches if we're not out in an hour."

"Don't trust anyone you meet in there," Aimee instructed.

"Have you had dealings with any of them?" I asked, curious. The voodoo community had to be small.

Aimee didn't answer directly. "I looked in the window," she said. "There's a twisted veve on the floor of the lobby. It's designed to possess and control."

"I saw it," I said, glad I'd instinctively avoided it when I'd been inside.

Dimitri stood in the shadows at the corner of the alley, observing the street. "I just counted six more people going in."

I joined him. "Those are more church members," I said, recognizing the fire-eating woman from the ceremony in the swamp. She wore a white gown, and was accompanied by three other women.

"Let's go," he said, ducking out of the alleyway. I kept pace beside him, marveling at his smooth athletic grace and the way he maneuvered in behind two older men as they crossed the street toward the funeral parlor.

He was a natural at this sneak stuff. Dimitri winked at me as the guard opened the door and we passed into the funeral parlor with the group. Bodies crowded the lobby, cloying incense thick in the air. The room buzzed with the chants of the faithful.

This time, rich silk flags decorated the walls. They pictured dancing skeletons, twining snakes, and flaming hearts struck through with swords.

Festive.

We stuck to the edges, avoiding the swirling white designs on the floor of the lobby.

The sneak spells seemed to be working. The worshippers focused on the large wooden altar at the back, crowded with candles and bones of the dead. They spoke in Haitian Creole, their words thick with emotion and need.

Pran dlo nan je nou Et pran zosman nou

Mettre pou lavi ki pwòp pa nou

In my mind, I could almost
hear
the translation. It was one of the more nifty demon slayer powers. At least for a geek like me. I could translate script as well. I concentrated and let the words come:

Take our tears and take our bones

Bring to life what is our own

Holy smokes. "They're praying for resurrection."

Dimitri visibly paled. "Never a dull day."

I drew ahead as we neared the doorway that led to the courtyard. When Osse Pade had taken me back there, I'd seen nothing but a simple open air space with rows of chairs, a rough altar, and a platform for a coffin.

When we slipped through the door this time, I had no idea what to think.

"Bodies," Dimitri whispered.

"You're not kidding."

Four rows of tables stretched across the courtyard. Followers dressed in white huddled over them, assembling bones. Each table held a skeleton. One skull, one pelvis, assorted arm bones and fingers and toes.

They were putting everyone back together again, like some twisted version of Humpty Dumpty.

Thick red candles flickered from sconces on the walls. We slipped into the shadows near the far left corner.

Osse Pade stood in the doorway to his private sanctuary. Black and white paint streaked his face and chest, mimicking a skeleton. His fingers caressed the forehead and lingered over the empty eye sockets. "Can you feel her?" he purred. "She wants to come to us."

A nearby male priest appeared nervous, overwhelmed. "It is difficult, my bokor. We cannot sense her like you can." He bowed his head quickly back to his work. "The remains are old."

"Age doesn't matter," Osse Pade said, cradling the skull as he observed the half-completed skeletons. "You must go by what you feel. We trust in magic above all things."

He swept a hand over the remains nearest to him and a long thigh bone began rattling on the table. It shook all on its own, bumping against the tangle of bones piled on all sides.