Thirty
On October 26, not four hours after Bones and I put the finishing touches on the new limestone/quartz/moissanite trap, my cell phone beeped from a text. I was in the shower, rinsing suds from my hair and trying to ignore how the water seemed to get icier every day. No electricity meant no hot water. If the carbon monoxide exhaust wouldn’t kill Tyler, I’d set up a generator in the house just to be able to take a hot shower again.
I continued rinsing my hair, not rushing to read the text because it was about the time Denise would send her daily updates, letting me know everything was okay on their end. If it were urgent, she wouldn’t text. To conserve the battery in my phone, we didn’t chat verbally, and to be honest, it was easier to text back “no news” than admit out loud that we still hadn’t found the last woman. All of us watched the days count down on the calendar with increasing dread.
Kramer hadn’t been coming around as much in the past week. The knowledge that he was probably splitting his time between readying his accomplice for the woman’s kidnapping and escalating his torment of her was enough to make me feel like I had a permanent case of nausea. Unless we found her, that woman had just over a hundred hours to live.
It was just me and Bones at the house right now. Ian, Tyler, and my mom were at the Southern Hills Mall. Ian prowled about seeking his own version of food, and my mother kept watch over Tyler just in case Kramer happened to stumble upon them. Hopefully soon, my mother would follow Ian’s lead and vary her diet. I half wondered if that was why he insisted on going out so frequently and taking them, although maybe it was just a case of boredom combined with cabin fever.
After I got out of the shower and dried off with a few brisk, efficient swipes, I grabbed my cell from the countertop and read the text. My first thought was that it was gibberish. Letters, symbols, and numbers were run together without spaces, some repeating, some not. Maybe Denise’s phone got jiggled around in her purse or pants pocket and my number was redialed by mistake; I’d butt-dialed people by accident before. But this wasn’t coming from Denise’s cell. It was from Elisabeth’s number. I looked more closely at the message.
6THST5360#(SC5360WEST^THSC5360WEST6THSTSC
It took me another two rereads before I figured out the pattern. “Fifty-three sixty West Sixth Street, Sioux City,” I sounded out. Then louder, excitement running through my veins like a bolt of lightning. “Fifty-three sixty West Sixth Street, Sioux City. Holy shit, she did it! Elisabeth found her!”
But why was her message such a mess? When Elisabeth texted Francine’s address weeks ago, it had been neat and distinct. This looked like she’d been trying to text while juggling at the same time. What would cause her to send a message so garbled that she’d risk the chance of my not understanding it?
By the time Bones came into the bedroom, I’d figured it out, and I met his gaze with a mixture of hope and grimness.
“Elisabeth found her,” I repeated. “And it looks like she texted the woman’s address while trying to fight Kramer off, so Kramer knows she found her, which means he also knows that we’ll be on our way.”
Even with the direct air route we’d take, it would still be a good twenty minutes until we got to Prospect Hill, the neighborhood in Sioux City where that address derived from. Bones could fly faster, but I couldn’t, and if he burned through his power getting both us there quicker, that would mean he’d be running on less reserves when it was time to make our speedy exit. We already had to expend energy making sure we were high enough to avoid being spotted by commuters in the after-work, rush-hour traffic. It wouldn’t be fully dark for another hour, but even though the early evening was still light enough to raise our profile, waiting wasn’t an option.
It seemed like forever before we spotted the white monument that marked the Prospect Hill area. Seeing the MapQuest overview before gave us an idea of which area to land in, but obviously people didn’t have house numbers conveniently displayed on their roofs. Bones took us above where we thought her street was and zoomed downward in a straight line, landing us in the middle of some tall hedges. The ground shuddered, and our feet went ankle deep into the earth from an impact far harder than usual. I immediately crouched into a kneeling position, helping to distribute some of the force. It still hurt like hell, but with the area bordering downtown and lots of people window-shopping, seeking dinner, or otherwise strolling around, we couldn’t afford to glide to an easy landing and be spotted. With almost every cell phone having recording capabilities, we’d be on the news and Internet before you could say compromised supernatural security. Then not only would we be in deep shit with the vampire Law Guardians, but Madigan, with his facial recognition software programmed to flag my image, would also know exactly where we were.
“All right, luv?” Bones asked, shaking off any injuries from the equivalent of being dropped like a bowling ball from five thousand feet faster than I could.
“Fine,” I gritted out, wincing at the pain that shot through my back when I stood up. I might’ve saved my legs by kneeling, but my angle must’ve been wrong, because I heard several things pop in my spine upon standing. A few sharp tingles later, and the pain was gone. Nothing beat being a vampire when it came to healing abilities.
Bones took some sage out of his pockets and lit it. I did the same, careful not to let any of the burnt edges fall to the ground. There were dry, crinkled leaves everywhere, and starting a fire would be a great way to draw a lot of unwanted attention to us.
We came out of the hedges and started walking toward the nearest intersection as though we were a normal couple out for a stroll. From the mutters I picked up on, the people closest to the spot where we’d landed were wondering about the noise and the momentary vibration they’d felt, but thankfully hadn’t connected those things with two people dropping out of the sky. With how fast we’d descended, we would have been nothing more than a brief streak even to someone who’d been looking right at that spot.
“That’s Cook Street,” Bones said low, nodding at the street sign in front of us. “Sixth should be coming up . . .”
His voice trailed off, tension ringing from his aura like invisible fire alarms. I followed the direction of his stare, dread creeping up my spine.
A tunic-clad man floated in the middle of the street, white hair unmoving in the breeze. Cars drove right through him, the drivers unaware that they’d just come in contact with one of history’s most prolific serial killers. And even though he was too far away for me to see his eyes, I knew the Inquisitor was staring right at us.
Our arrival in the neighborhood hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone.
“Bones,” I said softly, “I’ll draw him off. You go get her, then meet up with me.”
His lips barely moved, but I could still hear his hushed reply. “I’m not leaving you.”
We only had seconds before Kramer attacked. Already the ghost was starting toward us, and I knew it wasn’t to shake our hands, and say, “Howdy, neighbors!”
“You’re a man; not tempting enough for him,” I whispered rapidly. “But you’re stronger and faster than I am, so you’re that woman’s best chance if she’s still alive. Now quit arguing and go.”
So saying, I handed my sage to Bones and ran right toward Kramer, making sure to wave my arms so he’d see I didn’t carry any of that ghostly flamethrower anymore. Behind me, Bones ground out a curse, but I didn’t turn around. I was right, and he knew it. He might not like it, but that didn’t change the reality.
Now, to get Kramer to come after me instead of protecting his final target. Unless he’d killed her already, what happened with Francine should have shown him that he couldn’t stop us from taking her. I hoped he decided to unleash some of his frustration over that on me instead of spending those last few moments with her.
“Hey, Casper the Ugly Ghost!” I called out when Kramer seemed more focused on what Bones was doing than on my closing in on him. “Bet I can whack that stubbly jaw before you can catch me!”
That turned the heads of the other people on the sidewalk, but my attention was all for the hazy figure in the monkish tunic. I was now close enough to see Kramer’s nostrils flare at my reminding him of the two punches I’d landed during the brief time when he’d been solid. He glanced behind me again, though, as if still deciding whom to attack. Take the bait! I urged him, then dove to cover the last several feet between us.
“Here comes bitch slap number three!” I announced, swinging my hand through his jaw.
He wasn’t solid, so my fist flew through harmlessly, but either the gesture or the words made up his mind. Kramer spat out a curse and rounded on me, his own arm shooting out.
I ducked, but not fast enough. Pain burst through the side of my head, the energy he managed to harness feeling even stronger than a punch from solid flesh would have. I caught myself before barreling into a store’s front window, crashing into the wall instead. At least that only chipped off some plaster instead of shattering glass. Then I spun around to face the ghost.
“That was pathetic,” I snapped. “I don’t even need sage to fight you. You’re * enough all on your own.”
His face twisted with rage, and a torrent of German erupted from his mouth. I took that as my signal to run for it, darting through the throngs of people going about their business on this lovely autumn evening.
I had made it as far an outdoor sports bar when it felt like a wrecking ball crashed into my back. It sent me flying forward, completely off-balance. I managed to turn enough to avoid the family with the small children and instead crashed into a table with several young men crouched over beer pitchers and chicken wings. The table broke under my impact, foamy liquid, glasses, and orange-smeared chicken parts splattering over me. The four men who’d been seated around it stared down at me in disbelief, two of them still holding chicken in their hands.
“What’s your problem, lady?” one of them gasped.
They couldn’t see that a ghost had blasted me into them, but did they really think I’d just swan dived into their table out of boredom? From my vantage point on the floor, I could see Kramer approaching, his form disappearing every time he had to poltergeist through someone in his way. I glanced back at the quartet of young men, desperately trying to think of something that would make them and the other patrons run away before the ghost got here.
“I’m on the rag and desperate for attention,” I improvised, remembering Graham’s derisive thoughts from that day at my old house. “So if you want to live, get the hell away from me!”
With that, I shoved the remains of the table at them, doing it slow enough so they could avoid it. They leapt out of its path and started backing away. Thankfully, they weren’t the only ones. The outdoor seating area quickly began to clear of people.
“Crazy bitch,” I heard, but my attention was all for the ghost. He was only a dozen feet away now, his mouth opening in a snarl. I needed to get him clear of these people before he decided to start killing some of them just for fun.
“Come and get me, limp dick!” I yelled, vaulting over the wall. A less-crowded section of shops was on the other side, parked cars lining the streets but their owners mostly elsewhere. I didn’t look back to see if Kramer had taken the bait but continued my stream of insults while running flat out. “I know that whole bit about witches depriving men of their virile members was just your excuse for not being able to get it up unless you could—”
Something smashed into my back, sending an explosion of pain through me. It also threw me off-balance again. I ended up skidding down the sidewalk face-first, my velocity carrying me several feet before whatever he’d done to my back healed enough for me to stagger to my feet. As soon as I did, an invisible sledgehammer landed in my gut, knocking me back to my knees.
Someone screamed. I couldn’t see who because my vision was blurry and filled with red. I spat out blood, sickening crunching noises sounding with that slight movement of my jaw. My face burned like it had been set on fire, but I got up again, braced for the blow I knew would come. Get away from the people, away from the people, I repeated to myself. No matter what he did to me, I’d heal. They wouldn’t.
I made it a few feet, barely seeing where I was going because though I could feel my face mending, I still had blood in my eyes. Then I heard an ominous metallic boom and white-hot pain exploded all through my body. Lights flashed in my vision, and my ears rang with the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. Now I really couldn’t see, but the smell of gasoline and the tremendous weight pressing on me let me diagnose what had just happened.
Motherfucking ghost upended a car on me!
I didn’t have time to be stunned at how much stronger the proximity to Halloween had made Kramer because the acrid scent warned me that I needed to move now. The ghost was probably busy trying to score a lighter or make lots of sparks to ignite all that flammable liquid contained in the fuel tank on top of me. I’d had a car explode next to me once before, and it had almost killed me. Being trapped underneath one if it went off? I’d be all the way dead, no doubt about it.
I tensed every muscle in my body, ignoring the flares of pain that were multiple broken bones trying to knit back together, and heaved up with all of my strength. Agony flashed through me, making me momentarily dizzy, but the weight moved off as far as my arms and legs could stretch. Another blisteringly painful heave, and I slithered out from under it, letting it fall back down with a crash once I was clear.
Several blinks later, and I could see enough to be dismayed at the cluster of people gathered nearby, each of them displaying varying degrees of shock. I didn’t see any phones held up capturing footage, though, so I had to be grateful for that. Then I caught sight of someone else staring at me. Kramer floated in the empty space along the road where the car had been parked, his green gaze locked onto me with unrelenting intensity.
I didn’t know why he wasn’t zooming in for another of those bone-cracking energy shots, but damned if I’d just stand here and pose for him until he got around to it. I whirled, pointing myself in the least-populated direction of the street, and started to run. More bones crunched, and my skin felt like I’d been staked on an anthill before I finished healing, but I didn’t stop running, waiting for the next blast of pain that would signal Kramer’s catching up with me.
I heard a whoosh, then something hard pressed into my gut. My instant defensive reaction stilled when I recognized the power flooding around me, crackling the air with hidden currents. The ground left my feet as I was yanked upward, one strong arm around my midsection, the other locked around someone screaming in a high-pitched, feminine voice.
That scream was the sweetest music I’d heard because it meant Bones had gotten to Kramer’s last intended victim in time to save her.