Chapter Eighteen

Angelo

Haven Hollow had a ghost motel.

It was a towering, ostentatious semi-spectral dwelling. But only supernatural creatures could see it. If a human looked at it, all they saw was an empty plot of land with a Hallowed Homes sign proclaiming it to be for sale. Those of us with magic in our blood saw something entirely different. What we saw was something twenty floors high, with huge, glittering windows. The awning that shielded the double doors looked like it had been made of burnished nickel. The place screamed art deco luxury, and there was a good reason for that.

Death himself (or at least an aspect of the being) had designed it to Darla's tastes. The ex-ghost had been an aspiring actress in the previous century, and only her jealous lover had kept her from becoming a household name, or so she claimed. She'd cheated the veil with the help of our resident Blood Witch, Wanda, and Death had been intrigued. After losing a friendly wager to Darla, the hotel became a permanent fixture in the Hollow. No longer did spooks have to be banished from homes. They just had to be relocated here.

And speaking of Darla...

"I don't like this one bit," Darla whispered to Wanda. Well, stage whispered. I didn't think she meant for any of us to miss the sentiment. "That beastie killed Florence, and she's twice as strong as little old me! What chance do the rest of us have against that thing?"

We still weren't one hundred percent sure that the Grave Eater had killed Betanya's zombie companion. As far as we knew, it had just kidnapped her. Furthermore, zombies like Florence and Libby were rare, due to the dearth of Blood Witches in the world. Thus, no one knew what their physical limits were, and no Blood Witch was unethical enough to experiment in order to find out.

Libby placed a hand on Darla's shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. I'd always thought there was always something... off, about Libby. A vacant sheen to her eyes, an emptiness to her smiles. At first, I assumed Wanda had brought her back wrong, but no. Darla was exactly the way she'd been as a ghost, according to Poppy anyway. So I supposed the same was probably true of Libby—she was simply as plastic in life as she had been as one of the undead. It wasn't a bad quality in a realty office secretary.

"I'll protect you."

Darla hoisted a crowbar up onto her shoulder and gave Libby a doubtful look. "Thanks a million, doll, but this thing already got your cousin, see? I just wanna be safe an' I definitely ain't lookin' to die a second time. I ain't no cat with nine lives."

My BMW hadn't survived an encounter with the Grave Eater, so I doubted Darla's crowbar would offer much protection. I didn't say that out loud, though. We needed to make the hotel as juicy a target as possible, so we'd resorted to this: gathering everyone in town who was even tangentially related to death magic and put them all in one place. Wanda, Betanya, Libby, Darla, Lydia, and Maverick were trooping into the hotel, baiting a trap that I only half-wished would work. This thing needed to die. On the other hand, I didn't want to give it another shot at Lydia. Watching her bleed out on the snow had been one of the most painful experiences I'd had since coming topside. I wasn't eager to repeat it.

"No one is going to let the Grave Eater turn you into an appetizer, Darla," Wanda drawled. She shot Maverick a meaningful look. "Isn't that right?"

Maverick grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, which Wanda seemed to take as an affirmative. Aside from Taliyah, they were arguably our heaviest hitters against this sort of creature. If it had been a hot blonde eviscerating our people, I was the one you wanted to aim at the villain. Something big, hairy, and musclebound? That was more Roy's speed. He, Marty, and Taliyah were guarding the rear, just in case the thing was smart enough to come at us from behind.

"If it comes through those doors, I'm gonna hit it with this thing," Darla said, swinging her crowbar with an emphatic "hi-ya!"

"If it comes through the door, you're hiding under the front desk," Wanda corrected mildly. "Because you're right—this thing is dangerous. Hide until I take care of it."

Darla beamed. "I knew you liked me."

"I tolerate you," Wanda said, rolling her eyes. "Don't get a swelled head."

"Softie."

I pulled Lydia in close to me as we strode through the double doors. In many senses, she was almost as defenseless as Darla. She had the magic of a witch, true, but not the training of one. It had to be a big adjustment to go from a practically powerless gypsy shopkeeper to something with enough power and connections to be on a permanent hit list. Given enough time she'd learn, but the hits kept coming one after the other. Someone was determined to keep her from mastering what she had. She craned her neck and gave me a pointed look.

"You don't have to act like a shield, Angelo. I'm a big girl."

"Maybe I just like touching you."

She beamed up at me. "Well, in that case… keep doing what you're doing."

I smiled back at her. "I fully intend to."

The lobby was monochrome, done in checkerboard black and white. Cameo paintings speckled the walls, splashed now and then with reds to make the arrangement pop. The front desk was geometric silver and shone like chrome in the overhead lighting. The jazz filtering through the radio sounded too lively for what we were about to attempt. A few of the ghosts danced to it, while others leaned over the billiards table or played poker. I doubted they'd noticed us. So far as they knew, the only thing that could kill them all over again was out doing his job as the Grim Reaper.

"Can you feel it?" I asked Lydia.

"Feel what?"

"The thing out there? You were the one to sense it first, so I figured that must be your superpower."

"Spidey Senses," she said dryly. "Just the superpower I wanted."

I cocked my head to the side. "Not a bad one, if you ask me."

"You know, right now I think invisibility is more my speed. I'd rather be anywhere else right now. Stinking Indigo. I didn't get attacked by creatures when I was running the shop in Tiller..."

"If you were still in Tiller, you wouldn't have met me," I pointed out.

Her eyes softened a little. "I guess that's true." She took a deep breath and seemed uncomfortable looking at me. "To answer your question, Angelo: no, I don't sense it."

"Hmm."

"And…" she started, growing silent as she paid mind to the voice inside her head. "Indie just said she has an idea on how to call the Grave Eater, but it's an idea you aren't going to like."

I frowned. Lydia had decided to finally confide the truth to our battle party. It had only come as somewhat of a surprise to realize that Indigo was still kicking and, not only that, was possessing her. From what I'd heard about the witch, she was a battle-ax—a badass bitch who hadn't let anything like morals, hellhounds, or an explosion stop her from doing whatever she liked. It did put a little wrinkle in my plans, though. When I'd been thinking about threesomes, this wasn't how I'd expected one to go. More pointedly—Lydia had let me know, in no uncertain terms, that Indigo didn't like me. And what was an incubus to do when one woman was game for a fun romp (I was fairly sure Lydia was interested) but the other wasn't? Hard to have an orgasm when your mental roommate is giving a scathing commentary during sex. It turned out I wasn't just wooing one woman, I now had to win over two. And while that might have sounded like fun to any other incubus, to me it simply sounded like difficulty.

"Nothing about dealing with this monster has been fun," I answered. "What do you… both need from me?"

"Power," Lydia said apologetically. "Indie let me in on how some of her magic works and I think we may be able to fight this thing when it comes, but I need a... a boost, I guess you could call it."

"A boost?"

She nodded. "I didn't have a lot of power before Indigo latched onto me, but she thinks she can siphon off enough power from you and integrate it into me to jumpstart whatever abilities I'd have if I'd been born more powerful."

I smirked. "So, what you're saying is... you want me inside you?"

"Oh, brother," Wanda muttered.

Lydia pulled away from me with a scowl. "Are you going to audition for the part of the bad example on a sexual harassment seminar, or are you going to take this seriously?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Even her scowl was cute. I offered her my hand.

"Fine, fine, I'll give you what you need, but if you plan to drain some of my power, I think you owe me dinner at least."

Her lips twitched with the effort it took not to smile at that. "Fair enough."

Then she took my hand. At first, nothing happened.

But then I felt something—that something started in my fingers, a tingling so subtle that I barely took notice of it. Soon though, the tingle became a prickling, an almost painful pins and needles sensation. And when the power really started flowing, it felt like Lydia... or rather, Indigo had taken sandpaper and scoured the inside of my veins.

I was an incubus, used to the push and pull of energy, but I'd never felt anything like this. I was built to take from my prey, and I gave them pleasure back in return. Indigo wasn't a succubus, though. So, there was no euphoria to buffer the taking of life. It hurt. It was like being flayed, with the magic taking off one layer of my skin at a time. She wasn't even aiming to take everything from me. This was just what Indigo needed to jumpstart Lydia's powers. If she'd meant to take it all... Dark Ones below, it would have been the most agonizing death I could imagine.

I pulled my hand back from Lydia quickly when she was through. She looked almost as pale and shaky as I felt. I realized belatedly that she'd felt that pain alongside me. Possibly with more clarity than she had before. She was an empath, after all.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It's fine," I panted. "You definitely owe me dinner though. With wine. Lots of wine. And you as the dessert."

"And an appetizer," she agreed. She hesitated, then went up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. "Thank you, Angelo."

"It was my pleasure," I lied. "So… next steps. Which are what?"

Lydia shrugged. "I guess we send a message, trying to get the Grave Eater over here."

I nodded. "If we kick its ass forthwith, we could make a dinner reservation before midnight."

She grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

Then she spoke. Not aloud, the way I was used to, but she projected her mental voice throughout the Hollow. Anyone with enough magical blood would hear her words, while slightly sensitive mundanes would brush it off as background noise or a momentary daydream. It was a magic that I'd never encountered before, one that must have come from Indigo's illicit dealings. When that mental voice spoke, I heard the echo of Indigo in the inflection and tone. It was Lydia, yes, but it was also Indigo. It was Indigo's enemy out there, after all.

I don't know which of you cowards is waiting for me, but you should know that I'm not going to hide,she began. This is Lydia Morton. You pulled all your strings, you got me here. Let's have a fair fight then, shall we? No bloodthirsty monsters or explosions. Prove you can beat me all on your own.

That would do the trick. If there was one thing you could count on in this supernatural world, it was the arrogance of powerful men. If Indigo could play on the puppet master's arrogance, make it clear that the only way for this guy to truly win was if he beat her one-on-one, then he'd come.

To my surprise, a voice answered. It was smooth and mellow, with just the hint of a British accent in the vowels.

Lydia Morton,I heard his voice in my head. And Indigo Hallewell. How nice of you to come looking for me. I wasn't sure I'd ever meet you, Lydia. I assumed Murrain was blowing things out of proportion, but that cast-iron bitch, Indigo, really can survive anything, even if she has to become a parasitic spirit to do so.

The sound of his smugness made my stomach clench. The loathing I had for this man was so strong, it nearly propelled me onto my feet and into the street after him. I resisted the urge, however, and focused on controlling my breathing instead. Charging in half-cocked was not the answer.

You came to kill me, right?Lydia mocked. So then kill me. But do it like you mean it. Cool it with all your little ploys, and let's have it out.

You act as though you didn't bring back up, but I know you're not alone. I've been watching all your friends. How can you ask me for a fair fight when there are six of you and only one of me?

They're here for the beast,a new voice said. I realized with a start that it had to be Indigo, speaking independently for the first time since I'd met Lydia. I made them promise they wouldn't help me in my fight against you. I want you all to myself.

I'd made no such promise, but the bravado in her voice seemed to please the man. A wicked chuckle rolled through all our heads, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. It was malice congealed. Even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was smiling when he said this next bit.

You sound just like your mother.

And then the connection was broken. He'd put up a new ward and cut us off. It didn't matter, though. He was coming. That much I knew for sure. Already, there was a shape on the other side of the door. We all tensed, ready to fight whatever came through.

"Ready?" I asked Lydia in an undertone.

"As I'll ever be."