Simon nodded. "Then let us leave."
CHAPTER 6
Maeve grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom. "Not before I've sprinkled some of my strong magic on Faith."
Dolf grinned and cupped his hand over his mouth. "Give her an extra rubbing for me!"
Maeve glared at him. "Keep your perverted thoughts to yourself!"
We marched through the door and into the other, less-occupied bedroom. Maeve sat me on the foot of the bed and stepped back. She cupped her chin in one hand and studied me. "Do you have any known allergies?"
I shrugged. "Not really."
"What about the usual vampire ones?"
"Um-" I raised my burned finger, "-I seem to have an aversion to silver."
Maeve sighed and rifled in her pants pockets. "Then we'll have to assume you have all the other ones."
I arched an eyebrow. "What are the other ones?"
She glanced down at herself. "You know. Hawthorn. Garlic. Sunlight. The usual-aha!" She pulled out a small paper packet from one pocket and smiled at it. "Here it is." She opened the flap. A pungent odor hit my nostrils.
I shrank from her as she approached me. "Could I read the ingredients before you do whatever you're going to do to me?"
She grinned and shook her head. "Believe me, you don't want to know. Now hold still. I just need to sprinkle this over you and say a few words." She dumped the dry, flaky contents onto my head and stuffed the packet back into her pocket. The witch closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and waved her palm over my head. "By the powers of Death heed my plea, make this mortal immune to thee." She backed up and smiled. "That should do it."
I patted my head and winced when my fingers came into contact with the dry powder. "So am I really immune to death?"
She snorted and pulled my hand away. "Of course not. His messengers just won't like that stinky stuff I spilled on you and stay away. That is, as long as you don't wipe it off or get caught in a rainstorm."
I stood and dropped my hands to my sides. "Thanks. I think."
Maeve smiled and set her hand on the lower part of my back. "Don't mention it," she commented as she led me to the door.
We stepped outside. The men, if they could be called that, waited for us around the coffee table.
Maeve gave me a gentle push in Simon's direction. "I've given her some protection, but I'd still watch my backs if I were you. These Phantoms are probably pretty ticked Certus destroyed one of their own and they might get rough now."
I whipped my head to her. "Like how rough?"
Simon set his hand on my shoulder and bowed his head to her. "I will remember your warning." He smiled down at me. "Shall we go?"
I cringed. "I guess."
Simon led our two groups from the compromised penthouse and down to the parking garage. We took his sporty black car while Maeve and Dolf took the limo. The traffic flowed by our small car and the lights flickered past the darkly-tinted windows. The world seemed so normal, and its normalcy felt so far away.
I glanced down at my pale hands. The tips of my fingers felt cold.
I glanced over at Simon. "So if Certus sort of survived his Phantom stabbing, what do you think would happen to me if they got a hold of me? Do you think I'd turn out in a death-coma, too?"
Simon shook his head. "No. You would enter a permanent state of death."
I frowned. "Why does he get an exception and I don't?"
Specter stuck his floating head between our seats. "Because you're human. Certus's body died a long time ago, so it doesn't mind being separated from his soul. Yours would probably break from the shock and not let your soul back in no matter how nicely you asked."
I slid down in my seat and crossed my arms. "Thanks for the good news."
Specter grinned and bowed his head. "Always happy to tell what I know. Speaking of that-" he glanced at Simon, "-what do you think is waiting for us at that cemetery?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Shouldn't it just be another clue?"
Specter snorted. "That was an easy riddle. Too easy."
I frowned. "I don't think so. It didn't even say the name of a cemetery. What if we're going to the wrong one?"
The ghost shook his head. "Nope. His group's got a favorite, and that's mine."
I studied his face. "How do you know?"
A dark expression slipped over Specter's illuminated face. "Because that's where one of them murdered me."
I felt the color drain from my own face. "Murdered? As in definitely dead?"
"It was pretty permanent," he quipped.
I furrowed my brow. "How do you know it was someone related to Trica?"
Specter floated backward onto the rear seat. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the front windshield. "I went to the cemetery a decade ago to meet someone. They never showed, but a vampire did. He asked me what I knew about Trica." He scoffed. "The idiot didn't believe me until Trica's own vampires found us. The vampires destroyed him and chose to bury my body in the cemetery."
I wrinkled my nose. "But why did they kill you?"
"It was punishment for learning about the paranormal world," he explained. He lifted his transparent hands and turned them over. A bitter smile slipped onto his lips. "Now I'm a part of it." He dropped his arms to his sides and shrugged. "Now you've heard my spirit sob story, but I still want to know what Simon thinks they're planning at my old haunt."
Simon's sly smile played across his lips. "We shall see."
I glared at both of them. "You two are getting way too much pleasure out of our possibly-guaranteed demise."
Simon chuckled. "You have too little faith in our abilities."
I arched an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm just a little tired after getting chased around by Death's messenger boys."
Specter floated between us and grinned. "Could be worse. You could be dead."
I shrank down in my seat. "Comforting. . ."
We reached the cemetery along the river. Simon stopped the car at the abandoned house and stepped out. Specter and I followed. Simon led us around the side of the old house and in full view of the arched entrance to the forgotten land. The glittering night sky cast shadows over the tall headstones of the ancient burial grounds.
Specter floated in front of us and faced the graveyard. His transparency meant we could see him frown. "Something's not quite right here. I can feel it in my bones."
I looked him up and down. "Maybe it's just you having an identity crisis."
He shook his head and floated a few feet closer to the graveyard. "No, I mean someone's messing with my bones!"
Specter dove into the graveyard. Simon grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. We kept up with the ghost as he flitted through the trees and headstones. He led us to the grave where we'd first found Maeve and him.
This time we weren't alone.
A dark figure stood hunched over the rear side of the tomb. Its form was smooth like unbroken shadows, and I could see some of the scenery through their black.
Specter stopped ten feet short of the tombstone. "Get away from there!"
The figure straightened and turned its face toward us. The creature was faceless but for a pair of red eyes and a dark spot for a gaping mouth full of sharp silver teeth. Its body was a shadow in the shape of a cloaked figure. The color was darker than that of Death's messengers, and the red eyes glowed like someone had stolen coals from hell. Its shadowed hands held pieces of white bone.
"Drop the bones!" Specter demanded.
The thing gave off a raspy chuckle. It held up the bones in one hand. "If you wish for the second clue, and your bones, then you must defeat me first."
Specter rolled up his astral sleeves. "No problem." He flew headlong at the creature.
Simon stretched out his hand. "Wait!"
The shadowed creature plucked one of the finger bones from the pile in its other hand and squeezed the thin bit of cartilage between its fingers. The fragile bone broke in half. Specter jerked to a stop and cradled his left hand. One of his fingers was bent at an impossible angle.
The creature chuckled. "Do you want to try again?"
Specter narrowed his eyes and flew at the thing. Again the creature took a bone, this time a knee bone, and crushed it in its hand. Specter cried out and crashed to the ground. He grimaced and clutched his right leg.
The creature laughed. "Shall we do it again?" He glanced at us and held out the bones. "Or would you like to have some fun?"
I shrank back from that horrible hand with its grisly pile. "What the hell is going on?"
"That is a Demon Phantom, a obscure shadow," Simon spoke up.
The creature chuckled. "Trica knew you would still know what I am, but do you know how to defeat me without destroying your friend?"
"Don't bother asking him," Specter spoke up. He clenched his teeth and floated off the ground. His leg hung limp beneath him and he pressed his left arm against his side. "You've got my bones, so you're my trouble."
The Demon Phantom looked him over. "You are not my prey, shade. You're only a puppet for both of us to use and discard."
I frowned and stepped forward. "That's not true! He's our friend!"
The Phantom sneered at me. "What a false word that is." His gaze fell on Simon. "Isn't it, Simon? Surely your life as a vampire has taught you that friends are a liability to be thrown away when they are no longer useful."