Spirit Storm (7 page)

As we sat there in Cal’s truck people were streaming in through the cemetery gates and walking up the narrow path to the group of mourners gathered at the top of the hill.
Time to face the music.

“Okay, let’s do it,” I said, pulling away. I reached for the door handle and felt the cold metal beneath my skin.
I can do this. I am strong. I am me. No wispy flesh and blood wannabe is going to take that away. Not today.

Stepping around the truck, Cal reached for my hand and we walked together across the street to the cemetery gate. I felt a breath of cold air and a slight popping in my ears as we crossed the threshold. That was when all Hell broke loose.

It is very, very difficult to be the only person experiencing raw terror and knowing that you have to appear like everything is just fine. The situation was so far away from fine we had traveled to another galaxy.

Normally I can only sense the dead through smell. It’s an annoying gift and it sucks, but I always guessed there would be something much worse if I ever dared venture past the cemetery gates. I was right. There was a roaring in my ears and a piercing headache forming behind my temples. My face felt like it was being touched by cold tendrils brushing past as I walked, one step at a time, up the gravel path. It was confusing and disorienting and I held on to Cal, knowing that he wouldn’t let me fall.

Oh and the smells! I was bombarded with smells from every direction. The smells came in every form; acrid, pungent, sweet, floral, each and every one of them stirring up memories and feelings. It felt like a violation, but it wasn’t like I could stop breathing.
Oh yeah, and I had to act normal.

Somehow we managed to run the gauntlet and made it to the gathering at the top of the hill. I was breathing rapidly and hoped that anyone who noticed assumed it was from exertion. As we came to a halt amongst the mourners I caught a flash of Simon’s grin and Emma’s blond hair, but then the crowd shifted. I realized belatedly they were making room for Calvin. He was the pack alpha after all. We were moved to the front, closest to the newly turned earth, Cal holding my hand in a vice-like grip.

My ears were ringing too loudly to make out what was being said and the funeral itself passed in random flashes. A woman’s shoes. Blink. Gazing around the circle of downcast faces. Blink. A tuft of grass longer than the rest. Blink. A handkerchief edged with embroidered roses. Blink. The only constant was the barrage of odors and the ever present smell of burning brownies.

At one point I thought I saw Emma reach out for Simon’s hand, but I had to be imagining things, right? After hours, or minutes, the crowd began to disperse. Cal exchanged a few words with whom I assumed must be the grieving widow, but as promised he never left my side. My headache was pounding, the roaring in my ears deafening, and I was beginning to lose feeling in my legs when Cal steered me towards the gates. I stumbled down the path, with Cal holding me upright, and nearly wept with relief when we cleared the cemetery gate. I wanted to bend down and kiss the ground, but wasn’t sure if I could get back up again. Plus there was the whole trying to look normal thing. Instead Cal helped me into the truck where he wrapped me in a blanket, turned up the heat, and held me until I stopped shaking. If this was what it was like to be exposed to one small cemetery of ghosts, then I was totally unprepared for Samhain which was only a week away. I might as well start picking out the straightjacket now.
Do you think they come in black?

*****

Attending the funeral after-party was much easier than the graveside ceremony. Fewer spirits, more werewolves.
My kind of party.
They all looked human in their black finery, but there was something less controlled in their actions here. I assumed it was similar to what I had experienced at Wolf Camp. Here, among their own kind, there was nothing to hide.

When Cal and I entered the room all eyes turned to us, or rather to Calvin. At his nod though everyone seemed to relax and go back to mingling and eating and drinking. What was it about death that made people want to eat? Was it an attempt to fill the empty hole in their lives or something to do with endorphins? I’d have to ask Emma. She would know. Emma knows everything food related. Looking at the table, filled with casseroles and desserts, I suddenly had an epiphany. I knew how I was going to work the subject of burning brownies into conversation. I guess the cemetery hadn’t totally fried my brain.
Good to know.

I grabbed a slip of paper from my coat pocket and mimed writing. After searching through his pockets Cal handed me a pen and I wrote an abbreviated version of my plan. Why was I writing notes to my boyfriend when he was standing right there? Well, werewolves have more sensitive hearing than humans and I didn’t want to risk having my plan overheard. After just a few seconds I had communicated my plan to Cal and he moved away toward the refreshment table.

With more than a bit of trepidation I approached the grieving widow. Okay, honestly I was pretty uncomfortable with this, and the growing smell of burning brownies wasn’t helping any, but I had just faced one of my worst fears and survived. How bad could subterfuge be? Oh right, have I mentioned how much I suck at lying? I could feel my face burning red with embarrassment as I stepped up to Mrs. Sanders.

“Hi Mrs. Sanders, I’m Yuki,” I stuttered.
I’m the head case who was hyperventilating at your husband’s funeral.
“I came with Cal.”

“Thank you for coming,” she said. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying which made what I was about to do ten times harder.

“I feel really bad,” I said. “I mean…I feel bad I didn’t bring anything to eat. I made brownies, but I ended up burning the entire batch. I guess I should have left the baking to Cal.” I held my breath waiting for her reaction. I didn’t have to wait long.

Her smile wavered and her eyes flooded with tears. “Oh, burnt brownies would have been appropriate,” she said, shakily. “They were Gavin’s signature dessert. He made them every weekend. We joked he burned them on purpose just so he could smother them in vanilla ice cream. They were inedible otherwise and we always kept ice cream in the freezer for when he would bake his brownies. I guess I don’t need to buy as much ice cream anymore…” Her voice trailed off and I took that as my cue to leave. I had the information that I needed.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I mumbled, backing away.

As I crossed the room to where Cal was standing, someone lifted their glass and began a toast in Gavin’s memory. It was unbelievably sad. He obviously had been a really nice guy, a nice guy who would never again be coming home and baking brownies with his family. My thoughts turned to Sam, the missing boy our own age, and I sent up a silent prayer that he was still alive.

When I reached Cal he held out his hand and led me to the door. The cool outside air and sunshine on my face was invigorating and I felt like I was waking from a bad dream. As we climbed into Calvin’s truck my stomach growled out loud. Funny, I hadn’t felt hungry at all while surrounded by food inside, but now that Cal and I were alone I was starving.

“I hope pizza sounds good, because I told Simon and Emma that we’d meet them at the Leaning Tower of Pizza downtown,” Cal said, smiling.

Pizza?
Heck yes. I needed to get away from thoughts of madness, death, and murder and feel some sense of normalcy. Going out for pizza with my boyfriend, best friend, and Simon was as close to normal as my life gets. Plus, I was starving. Maybe there was something to funerals making you hungry after all.

“I knew there was a reason why I fell in love with you,” I said, grinning.

Cal leaned over, his eyes half closed, lips moist, and said throatily, “And here I thought it was my kissing.”

“Mmmm…that would be reason number one,” I said. Our lips met and our bodies melted together.
Oh yeah, definitely reason number one.

*****

Cal and I arrived at the Leaning Tower of Pizza a few minutes late.
What can I say?
My hair was tousled and I had lost many of the small bells from my updo, but my hair wasn’t quite as wild looking as Cal’s. His hair was always shaggy, but I had been running my hands through it while kissing and now it looked like he had stuck his finger into an electric outlet. I thought about saying something, but he just looked so adorable.

Emma and Simon were sitting in a corner booth and we hurried to join them. I was immediately aware of the seating arrangement. Emma and Simon were both sitting on the same red vinyl bench seat leaving the opposite side of the table for me and Cal. It wouldn’t have seemed so strange if they were any other two people on the planet, but Emma and Simon couldn’t stand each other. They nearly scratched each other’s eyes out every time they were in the same room together and, though Emma had established the upper hand earlier in the day, I was sure that their battle for dominance wasn’t over. I wondered again if they really had been holding hands at the funeral. Emma had a lot of explaining to do.

“You two look awfully cozy,” I said, lightly. “Something happen at the funeral?”

Cal raised one eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“She finally succumbed to the Simon charm is all,” Simon quipped. “It was bound to happen eventually. I
am
irresistible.”

“You are so full of it,” Emma said, leaning her head back against the padded booth and closing her eyes. “I have the most horrendous migraine from Hell. Yuki, how do you deal with having these all the time?”

“The threat of drinking your headache ease tea usually keeps them at bay,” I said. “But you never get headaches. Any idea what triggered it?”

“Yeah, talking snake,” Emma said with a sigh.
Oh.

“Looks like your friend will be joining us for training,” Simon said, smiling at me slyly. “The things some girls will do to get my attention.” He winked. “Of course, I’ll be deeply wounded if she just sits back and falls asleep during our sessions.”

“Oh shut
up
,” Emma said exasperatedly. “I am not falling asleep. I’m resting my eyes since they feel like they’re about to mutiny and jump out of my skull. And I am not taking sleep insults from a guy who has to turn in circles before he can lay down for a nap.”

Simon growled in response, but turned his attention to the menu. Emma continued to rest her eyes while a satisfied grin spread across her face.
Interesting.
I never witnessed a person so effectively trade insults with their eyes closed. It was kind of impressive.

We decided on one extra large meat lover’s pizza for the guys, a personal veggie and cheese pizza for me, and bread sticks for Emma. Pizza is one of the reasons I could never go vegan. I have to have my cheese. Emma tried to make a case against the guy’s pizza by explaining the origins of sausage, but Simon just mumbled something about “yummy lips and gizzards” around a mouthful of pizza. Emma went back to nibbling her bread sticks in disdain. Once we had all stuffed ourselves I turned my attention back to Emma.

“So, the suspense is killing me,” I said. “What did the snake say to you today?”

“It said that the missing boy, Sam, was underground, but still alive,” she said. “That’s good news, right?”

Calvin and Simon exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.
What, do they have telepathy now or something?
My mind conjured up images of being buried alive, but I shrugged it off. Emma’s spirit guide had said Sam was alive and underground, not buried alive, so there was no reason to jump to macabre assumptions.
Way too much Edgar Allan Poe as a kid.

“That’s definitely good news,” I said. “Any other clues?”

“No, he just said he was underground,” she answered.

“We’ll get the word out to pay special attention to basements and caves,” Cal said.

“Someone should check the sewers as well,” Simon added. “What? Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“No, you’re right,” Cal said. “We’ll put together search teams and draw straws to see who gets the sewers.”

I winced at the thought of trudging through the town’s sewer tunnels.
I thought
I
had it bad with smells.

Chapter 10

I was exhausted from my ordeal at the cemetery and Emma continued to suffer with a migraine headache so Cal agreed to drive us home early. Simon volunteered to follow us in Emma’s car and leave it at her house. Cal and Simon planned to work late coordinating the search parties.

When we finally reached my house Cal waited until I was safely inside before driving away. I sat on the bottom stair, building up the strength to climb up to my room, and unlaced my boots. Pieces of dried flowers and herbs trailed out as I pulled off each boot. Grabbing my boots in one hand and my coat in the other I stomped up the stairs.

I was agonizingly tired, but the memory of cold spirit fingers on my face and the smell of hundreds of ghostly smells entering my head made me stop in the bathroom and run a steaming hot tub of water. I poured in a heaping scoop of sandalwood bubble bath and stared at the growing mass of suds. I had an antique claw foot tub in my bathroom, which I always thought was extremely cool, but right now I was regretting the extra high sides that I had to climb over.
Oh well, no time like the present.
The tub wasn’t getting any shorter nor the water any warmer. I peeled off my clothes and sank into the bubble filled water. My arms were the only thing above water, besides the top of my head, and I was startled to see the large black crosses and sigils I had drawn on each arm in stark relief against my pale white skin. I started scrubbing them with a loofah, but they wouldn’t budge.
Son of a dung beetle.
Leave it to me to use a permanent marker.

When the water was only lukewarm and my hands shriveled like raisins I finally dragged myself out of the bathroom to flop on my bed. I picked up one of the library books from the stack and decided to research spirit wards some more. There had to be something in these books that could help me survive Samhain.

I was reading excerpts from the Ulster Cycle, Irish mythology filled with heroic tales, and an analysis of the historical interaction of the Sidhe, or fairies, with spirits of the dead. In these old stories the Sidhe had the power to rule over the spirits and demons that were set loose on the night of Samhain. Now if I could just find a fairy to protect me on Samhain…yeah, like that’s going to happen. Not a likely scenario, but I added it to my wish list.