Wolves and the River of Stone (7 page)

I smiled and laid the arrowhead back on the cotton lined tray. I turned the tray sideways and spun all six arrowheads into a protective cotton roll. Hugh looked confused until I held the ball of cotton out to him. “Consider them a gift from someone looking to win your favor.”

Hugh’s eyes widened and he stared at me. He raised his hands with his palms toward me, bowed his head, and slowly lowered his hands to curve below the roll of cotton. “Thank you, Damian.” He held the roll to his chest and met my eyes. “Thank you.”

“I will help you in any way I can if it means Philip Pinkerton and his followers are dead and buried,” I said.

Alan nodded. “As will we.”

Carter nodded to Foster and Aideen as he turned and left the shop with all three wolves in tow. I listened to the bell jingle as the four werewolves walked out onto Main Street.

Bubbles and Peanut tore through the shop in a clatter of toenails and started barking at the front door.

“Guard dogs, huh?” I said with a glance at Foster.

He shrugged. “I never said anything about werewolves.”

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” I laughed as Aideen fluttered toward the front door to reprimand the cu siths.

***

I found Nixie sitting on the old green cot below the grandfather clock. It then clicked as to why the cot was unfolded in the middle of the back room.

“Hey Nix, what’s up?” I said while I pulled out a chair at the old table and sat down.

“Is Zola here?”

“No, she’s out with the vampires.”

Nixie nodded. “I spent the last few months visiting the clans. Most of our race is worried about Philip.”

“Why?”

Nixie glanced toward the front room as the fairies chased the cu siths around the aisles and she smiled. “His cult, they are trying to raise the Destroyer.” She turned back to me. “The Destroyer is a real threat to my people. A dire threat, Damian. She’s killed entire families, entire clans, in a span of hours. Our queen, our house, has been at war with her as long as our memory serves.”

I grimaced and looked away.

“I think you and Zola and your friends should be made our allies. You are all so young, and yet you banished Azzazoth. A chief, a corruptor, banished by your own hand!”

“And lots of dynamite,” I said.

Nixie smiled and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Your grandfather, Damian. He has given us over a century of peace through his sacrifice. Even if it wasn’t intended as a sacrifice for us, it has created change in our people. We are struck by sympathy, and the elders see it as a dangerous change, a malignant change that will destroy us all.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

She sat in silence for a moment and knuckled her eyes before she looked up again. “I think I like the old wolf.” She stared at me, her pale brows drawn in confusion.

“I like him too. There’s something peaceful about him. How did you know his name?”

Her lips quirked. “I met him along your river many years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yes, his son fell in a flash flood and was swept away. He asked the river spirits to watch over his child, but I heard his call instead.” Her eyes unfocused as she spoke. “The cub was still alive, but I knew he would be dead soon. The waters tell me much. I thought I wanted him to die, but the old wolf’s words broke something in me.” She rubbed her right hand on her breastbone. “The child was clinging to an old pier when I found him, just an old decaying log, barely sticking above the surface.” She laughed softly and ran her fingers through her hair. “I think he knew what I was, because his face changed from resolve to terror. And it ... it hurt.” She paused and looked away. “Such a young child. Once perhaps, but now I could never hurt someone so young, not even a wolf.”

“You saved him?”

“Yes.” Nixie looked away and frowned. “I shouldn’t like werewolves, Damian. It is not our way.”

“Pfff,” I waved my hand around in dismissal. “Apparently I should be sending zombies after them and eating their furry hides for dinner because I’m a necromancer. Werewolf chimichangas. It could happen.” I shook my head. “Really, though, Carter and Hugh? They seem like good people.”

Nixie nodded and leaned back against the clock. “Hohnihohkaiyohos is a very good person. Honorable to a fault, the kind of man I loved to drag beneath the seas.”

I cringed at the vision my mind conjured up. Hugh below the water, dying, with Nixie laughing all the while. I looked away from Nixie and took a deep breath before meeting her gaze.

She smiled briefly, and then her smile faltered. There were tears in her eyes when she looked at me again. “I don’t want to kill anymore.”

I pushed my chair back and stood up. Two steps took me to the flimsy cot where I sat down beside Nixie and put my arm around her. “You don’t have to, Nix. No one can tell you what you’re supposed to be.”

She leaned into me. “We are not allowed change. There are beings ...”

“I’ll kill them.” And I knew I would as I felt her warmth pressed against me. Even if we were only ever friends, I’d kill anyone forcing a friend to murder.

Nixie shook her head on my shoulder and put her arm across my stomach. “So much killing. Sometimes it seems like the only thing left in the world.”

My heart rate spiked as I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with an ocean breeze. “Not the only thing,” I said as I pulled her chin up and kissed her.

I
was walking on air when my alarm went off the next morning at 5:00 AM. I didn’t even think about sending the giant red numbers into sparking ruin. I’d only had two hours of sleep, but I had some getting ready to do before evening rolled around. I picked up my phone and dialed Sam.

“This is Vesik,” said my vampire sister.

“Yes, it is,” I said.

Sam snorted. “Hey, Damian, what’s up?”

“I’ve got a date with an undine and wanted to run an idea by you.”

“As long as this isn’t an excuse to leave me emotionally scarred.”

“
Me?
I would never.”

“Riiiiight. Well, if you ask me, it’s about time you two went out. Maybe it will stop your babbling.” Sam paused and I heard her fingernail click rapidly on the side of her phone. “So what are you thinking?”

“I’m going to call Ashley this morning. She has some blue-tinted obsidian that I think Nixie would like.”

“Jewelry?” Sam asked. “You think that may be a little heavy handed? Too much, too fast?”

“Well, last night we–”

“Stop! No emotional scarring, dammit!”

I laughed. “Kissed, Sam, just kissed. Besides, the jewelry’s not expensive or anything.”

“Alright, just don’t get her a necklace or a pendant. From what Aideen was telling me, that aquamarine Nixie’s always wearing is very special to her.”

My eyes widened. “Crap, I didn’t even think about it. Thanks for that.”

“What are sisters for?” Sam paused before she said, “Don’t answer that.”

A chorus of laughter broke through in the background noise. “Are you at the Pit?”

“No, we’re down at the Blackthorne Pub. Chuck’s doing vampire hour.”

“Oh god, that sounds good.” Chuck managed the pub. A vampire from Sam’s extended family, with the benefits of being a manager, he opened up once a week for vampire hour. The hour was complete with ridiculous deals on pizza, toppings that would make a mortal gag, and complimentary, umm, beverages. No mortals allowed, except for the drinks. Last time I went with Sam, Chuck still served me a monstrous Chicago-style deep dish pepperoni.

“You still there, Damian?”

I swallowed and laughed. “Yeah, just thinking about that pizza Chuck gave me last time.”

“Some things never change,” Sam said with a sigh. “Did you need anything else? I’d like to get back to my food.”

“Did you see Zola?” I said.

“Yeah, last time I saw her she was still in the archive with Vik. They’ve been doing some seriously heavy research.”

“I figured. I haven’t heard from her for a while. I’ll go see Ashley and then swing by the Pit.”

“Aren’t you going to sleep tonight?”

“Already did.”

Sam went silent, and I guess she was checking the time, because she said, “It’s only five in the morning.”

“Yeah, there’s shopping to be done.”

“You’re a nutcase, Demon.”

“Thanks!” I said cheerfully. “Talk to you soon.”

“Later,” she said as the line went dead.

***

I drove to Ashley’s and knocked on her front door. She only lived a few miles from the shop, so it wouldn’t take me much longer than usual to get to the Pit when I left. Her carport was empty, so I parked Vicky on the street and sat down on the old porch swing. She pulled in about five minutes later in her green Prius, back from whatever witchy stuff she’d been up to the night before.

Ashley’s eyes widened like saucers when she saw me. She tapped her wrist to indicate the hour before she hefted a duffle bag with her left hand. She was strawberry blonde, short, and a little pudgy, but had the most incredible green eyes I’d ever seen, always kind and shining like glass. Her nose turned up just a little at the tip and I’m sure she got very tired of hearing how cute she was. A black robe hung from her shoulders, with her ever-present silver pentagram hanging across the front. I couldn’t resist asking, “You wearing any underwear with that?” When she turned ten shades of red, I was fairly sure of the answer. I laughed and stood up.

“What are you doing here?” She grinned nervously and brushed her hair behind her ears.

“I have a date.”

She looked at me and waited. When the silence started to get uncomfortable she said, “And?”

“I was wondering if you still had any of that blue obsidian you showed me last year. You’re still selling your handmade charms and jewelry, right?”

“Oh,” Ashley said as she nodded enthusiastically and walked to the front door. “Yes, yes, come on in. Let me change into something more ...” She glanced down at her robes and shook her head. “Something more appropriate.”

Ashley’s house always feels homey and welcoming, even when I drop by unannounced at the crack of dawn. Her living room was just to the right, through a small archway with a half wall on either side. Both half walls were covered in snow globes. The priestess had decorated the small abode with a mixture of bric-a-brac, wicker crafts, and Wiccan symbols. Dried herbs hung beside the large front window and filled the room with subtle scents of spring. It was all tasteful, except maybe the snow globes. I thought the decorations went well with the traditional furniture and pale blue walls.

I sat down on the old corduroy couch against the far wall and picked up the framed photo of her coven from the end table. The coven had grown since the last time I’d seen a picture of the group. Everyone was wearing their robes, with hoods pulled over their foreheads. Ashley was front and center, with a chalice in one outstretched hand and a massive crystal in the other. My eyes widened as I looked at the crystal. It was larger than a baseball.

Ashley walked into the living room carrying a large black chest with both hands. She was wearing flannel pajamas, covered in Paul Frank monkeys. I was always a bit more of a Scurvy fan myself.

“Nice PJs,” I said.

“I like monkeys.”

“And snow globes,” I said.

Ashley glanced at the rows of snow globes and laughed lightly as she sat the chest down on her coffee table. The table had a subtle pentagram worked into the layout of the wood surface, which I admired as Ashley fumbled with the latches and opened the chest. It was one of those old telescoping chests with five or six layers that opened as you moved the lid. Each layer had two dozen or more compartments filled with custom jewelry and loose stones. I recognized several pieces of amber she’d bought from the shop, now worked into bracelets and earrings and pendants.

“Oh, wow,” I said as I picked up an ice cube-sized spiky crystal from the bottom of the chest. “It looks like the one in your photo, only smaller.” The crystals were incredibly clear with a little frosting at the tips. It almost looked like someone had gone crazy with some quartz and a glue stick, except for the fact it was seamless.

Ashley glanced at the photo of the coven and nodded. “James got the one you’re holding for me before he died, somewhere in Kirksville.” She hadn’t talked about her kid brother much since he passed away in a car wreck on his way to school three years ago. I had taken Ashley to speak to him once, at her request. From what I had seen of his ghost, he seemed like a nice kid. After I touched his ghost with my necromancy, I knew what a loss to the world he’d been. I don’t think Ashley realized just how corporeal he would be when I helped her talk to him. He told her to move on, not to forget, just to move on, because he was fine and she would be too. She had thanked me, but she never mentioned it again. I’ll never forget the flare of her aura when he reached out and hugged his sister as she broke down.

I gently laid the crystal into the chest again. “It’s beautiful.”