Witching Moon Page 4

  I had been hesitant to ask, but finally I decided that I needed to know. I trusted Vixen and Apollo, and I couldn’t figure out why they didn’t like Trinity.

  “I need to know why Vixen doesn’t like you.” Finishing my milkshake, I motioned to the bartender and ordered a glass of red wine.

  “They have their reasons,” Trinity said, his answer far from reassuring.

  “Are you going to tell me those reasons?”

  He shrugged. “I might. Why do you want to know?”

  “Because Vixen and Apollo are my friends, and their opinions matter to me. If they don’t like you, they’ve probably got some reason and I’d like to know why.”

  “Why didn’t you ask them?”

  “Because I want to hear your side of the story first. There are always two sides to a story. I like you, Trinity. And I owe you big. You helped Ember save my life.”

  “Not necessarily. When you think about it, Merlin saved all of us. I was just along for the ride. I’m glad you survived, though.” He gazed at me, his eyes clear. That was one thing I could count on, Trinity almost always told the truth. He might be a master of persuasion, but he didn’t lie to get what he wanted.

  “Just tell me, all right?”

  He played with his glass for a moment, then pushed it back toward the bartender. “Another, please.” Looking at me again, he said, “Raven, I’ll make you a bargain. I’ll think about telling you why Vixen and Apollo don’t like me, if you’ll come exploring with me. I found something.” He held up a keychain, dangling a copper key from the end. By my estimation, the keychain had more than one hundred keys on it. It rattled as he toyed with it. While I knew it had to be heavy as hell, he treated it as if it were light as a feather. That’s one thing about the Ante-Fae, we were all fairly strong.

  I caught my breath. Trinity collected keys to all sorts of outlandish places, and there was something magical that he did with them, although I didn’t know what yet. He was also a Mesmer, and could entrance humans with his suggestions. While his glamour didn’t work on me, it didn’t go unnoticed. I did find him mesmerizing and hypnotic, though, and I liked being around him.

  “What do you say? One journey tonight. And then I’ll tell you my secret—possibly.” He grinned, tilting his head in a dare.

  I let out an exasperated sigh but nodded. “All right. One journey, in exchange for one secret.”

  “Possibly.” Trinity tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table, then motioned for me to join him as he sauntered out of the door.

  “Are you going to tell me your secret?” I asked as I drove in the direction he wanted to go. We were headed for the Worchester District, the most haunted area of Seattle. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of running into more spirits, but if we did, we did.

  “Oh no, you get your secret when we’ve finished our journey.”

  “So, does your new key lead to a mausoleum? A grave?”

  Trinity shook his head. “Nope, it’s not actually a new key. But I did discover a new secret, and I think you’ll like it. You’ll just have to wait and see.” He paused for a moment, then added, “How is Kipa doing? How are you two doing?”

  I pressed my lips together for a moment. As tired as I was of people asking me that, I felt like I could talk to Trinity. He didn’t judge, just listened. I couldn’t even talk to Llew about my relationship right now, because Llew was fixated on the idea that if I just asked for therapy, everything would be all right.

  “Kipa’s all right. We need to make this quick because I’m meeting him at nine back at my house. And I’ve broken too many promises lately to stand him up again tonight.” I sighed, pausing. Finally, I added, “The truth is that I’m both afraid I’ll lose Kipa, and I’m afraid he’ll stay. Because if he stays, he just might realize how messed up I am. I don’t want him to know how badly this fucked up my mind. He’s worried enough as it is.”

  “We’re almost there. Traffic’s light tonight.” Trinity leaned back in his seat, sliding his hands behind his head. “What does Kipa think about our friendship?”

  I glanced at Trinity, then back at the road. “I think he’s jealous. I told him he has nothing to worry about, that you and I have no romantic interest in each other. I trust I’m right on that, aren’t I?” Trinity and I had never really discussed our sudden friendship. But I wanted to make sure that he was on the same page I was.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not going to try to jump your bones. Not that you aren’t attractive, but right now, I’m not particularly interested in getting involved with anybody. I don’t fuck my friends because I don’t want to lose them and inevitably, when I sleep with a woman, she always seems to want more than I have to offer.” He pointed to a side street. “Over there.”

  The Worchester District of Seattle was old and falling-down decrepit. Spirits gathered here, especially in some of the older buildings that had housed the mentally ill at a time when mental illness was treated as a dirty secret, and some of the private boarding schools for delinquents that had been shut down when their unorthodox punishments were brought to light.

  I parked at the end of Broadfen Avenue near a sign that read “Dead End Street.” As we locked the car and began to walk down the road, I realized that the entire street seemed to be abandoned. The road was lined with apartments on either side, all of them dilapidated and empty. The buildings were silent and dark, their courtyards overgrown.

  The buildings to our left and right had once been apartment buildings—two long rows of them on either side. They were brownstone brick, and they bore fading signs that read “Broadfen Townhouses.” The windows were broken from people throwing stones, and the doors were boarded up with rotting sheets of plywood. Broadfen was a short street, and up ahead, I could see that it ended at a chain-link fence.

  As we approached the fence, I could see that beyond the Broadfen brownstones on either side, there were buildings that looked to be part of some complex. When I squinted, I could see a fading sign on the end of the one on the right that read “UCHV—Building B.” Another building kitty-corner to the left of the garden looked similar. Obviously, we had found some sort of complex. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. No, what drew my focus was what lay beyond the chain-link fence.

  There was a garden there, between the two long buildings, spreading out in a square like a courtyard. On the other side of the garden I could barely see—through the tangle of trees and foliage—another building that ran lengthwise to the garden square.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. I just discovered it yesterday. Let’s explore the garden!”

  The fence was low, about three feet high. To the left, right before the fence, was a pile of broken concrete that littered the road. There was no gate.

  Trinity leaped over the fence with no problem. He turned as I clambered up to the top of the concrete debris. He held out his hand, steadying me as I cautiously placed my left foot on the fence. Trinity caught my other hand as I balanced on the metal rail before swinging down to the other side. Letting go, he held his finger to his lips and we crept into the overgrown garden.

  I glanced around. The chain link ran the entire perimeter of the garden, which was sandwiched between the four buildings—the one in back of us belonging to the Broadfen brownstones.

  Square, the lot was about twice the size of my backyard. Even from where we were, I could see vining maple and ivy growing up the walls of the buildings. In the garden proper, there was a riot of flowers and shrubs, along with a giant maple tree, several lilacs, and knee-deep grass and ferns that blanketed the ground. A riot of wild roses and foxglove poked out of the knee-high grass. The lilacs were done and gone, but the scent of the roses filled the air, intoxicating me, their blossoms were so fragrant. In the center of the garden was a stone bench, barely visible in the thick grass and ferns that covered the ground.

  “How did you find this place?” I asked, looking around, delighted. It was like a hidden o
asis in the middle of a dismal part of the city.

  “I like to take long walks. I go on treasure quests to discover the hidden wild places of Seattle. You need to be cautious—I’ve seen a few nixienacks around here, but they tend to come out more during the day rather than in the evening.” Trinity led me over to the bench. “Have a seat.”

  I sat down, trying to relax as I leaned back and drew a deep breath. Trinity was kneeling nearby, sorting through a pile of discarded objects. I closed my eyes, thinking that I should be relaxing given the beauty of the garden, but instead, I felt a dark pall looming over my shoulder. I turned toward the building on the opposite side, staring at it.

  The buildings that surrounded the garden were long silent, abandoned like so many places in the Worchester District. But even though the living had left them behind, I could feel the dead moving inside. There were throngs of them here, crowding the spiritual highways.

  I watched the building closely. It was gloomy, large and taciturn, and the longer I looked at it, the more nervous it made me. I frowned, staring at one of the upper windows that overlooked the garden. There was somebody watching me, and it made me uncomfortable.

  “What was that building used for?” I asked.

  Trinity glanced up from the debris pile. “I think it was an infirmary or something. I’m not sure, though. Why?”

  “There’s something there. I mean, there are ghosts all over the place around here, but there’s some spirit in that building that feels…trapped? I want to say trapped.” I worried my lip, both wanting to go explore, and yet being afraid to do so.

  “It’s not Pandora, is it? Trying to charm you again?” Trinity was standing now, pushing his jacket back to reveal a wicked-looking blade strapped to his belt.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think someone in there might need my help.”

  At that moment, a piercing shriek raced through the astral, almost knocking me over with its fear. I jumped back, trying to catch my breath. There was a spirit in trouble, and the sound of her terror rang in my head.

  Trinity’s eyes widened. “I heard it too.” He paused, then glanced at his phone. “Come on, we should leave. You need to get home.”

  “But I want to check it out—” I started to say, then stopped as Trinity pushed me toward the chain-link gate.

  “I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he said. “I just thought you’d like the garden.”

  I protested again that I did like the garden, and that I thought we should explore the building, but Trinity wouldn’t hear of it. He hustled me back over the fence and toward my car, and before I could say a word, we were on the way back to the Eastside. I wanted to ask him more about the building, but I could sense that he truly regretted taking me there and I knew I wouldn’t get a clear answer. I knew, too, that I wouldn’t get an answer to my question about his secret, so I let both thoughts drop as I focused on driving. But my mind was back in the secret garden, back with the wandering ghosts, and I knew that I’d return.

  Chapter Four

  I made it home shortly before Kipa was due to arrive. Trinity headed off into the evening on foot, even though I offered to drop him somewhere. He disappeared into UnderLake Park and I watched him go, wondering where he lived. He still hadn’t told me, and every time I asked, he just shrugged and changed the subject.

  Raj was waiting for me, and I curled up with him on the sofa. “Kipa’s coming over. Raj likes Kipa, right?”

  Raj wiggled his butt, looking a lot like a happy rottweiler. He walked much like an orangutan, on his back feet and his knuckles. But up close, it was obvious he was a gargoyle, with leathery gray skin, sans wings. The faint scars on his back were a grim reminder of where the demon who had first owned him had cut his wings off. I had managed to find someone to cast a memory loss spell on him, so he’d never remember either the pain or the loss.

  “Raj loves Kipa.” He glanced over his shoulder at the TV. “Raven take Raj for a walk in the park?”

  I sighed. We hadn’t gone for a walk in a while. Kipa had taken Raj out to let him wander around. But I had been remiss, and I felt bad about it. Every time I tried to take him out to the park, I would get to the edge of the trailhead and stop, wondering who or what I would find inside the borders, and then I’d turn back and take him on a quick walk around the block.

  “Well, maybe Kipa and Raven can take Raj for a walk tonight. Would Raj like that?” With Kipa alongside of us, I wouldn’t feel so spooked.

  “Raj would like that. Very much.” He looked so excited that I knew I had to keep my word.

  Ten minutes later, Kipa knocked at the door.

  I opened it, frowning. “Why didn’t you use your key?” Kipa had a key, and he knew he had the run of my place.

  He looked a little uncomfortable. “I wasn’t sure whether you wanted me to knock or not. I didn’t want to spook you.” Even as he said it, I knew that what he meant was that he didn’t want to piss me off.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to find the words to smooth everything over. I stared at him for a moment, looking at those full lips and warm brown eyes, and I suddenly burst into tears, throwing my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder. “I don’t mean to be so difficult. I really don’t. I’m just having a lot of trouble lately and I don’t know what to say or do. Nothing feels right anymore.”

  Kipa slowly kissed the top of my head, then gently unwound me, moving me back so he could gaze into my eyes. “Raven, we really need to talk about this. We need to get you some help. There’s no shame in needing to talk to somebody about something as horrific as what you went through.”

  I wiped my eyes, knowing that I had to face the “talk” sometime, so it might as well be now. “Yeah, I know. Why don’t we take Raj for a walk in the park and we can talk as we go?”

  Kipa nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

  I put on Raj’s harness and fastened his leash to it, then changed my shoes for ones I could run in easily. As I set the alarm and made sure the wards were still strong, Kipa and Raj waited for me down in the driveway. I shut the door, locking it soundly, and slid the keys in my pocket. We headed over to the trailhead, and I took a deep breath as I stared at the opening. UnderLake Park never scared me before, not even when Ulstair was found dead there. Now, it loomed like a threatening cloud. I glanced over at Kipa.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked me.

  I nodded. “I have to. I can’t just sit here and let fear rule my life. I can’t let it lock me away behind my front door, afraid to go out anywhere.” Summoning up my courage, I set foot on the trail and we headed in.

  UnderLake Park sprawled for five hundred acres, full of trails and waterfront property. A massive thicket of trees and meadows, the park had a sinister history. At one point most of the acreage had belonged to a group of monks who had vanished over the years.

  The monastery, fully haunted with both spirits and memories, stood solemn and looming shortly beyond the front entrance, but few ever went near it because it was said that some of the monks had returned, unable to rest because of sins they had committed during life.

  Fifty acres of the park had been donated by the Castle family. Their estate head once ruled over a meticulously groomed set of gardens, and they had been an influential family until the owners were brutally murdered. At least, that’s what police thought happened to them.

  Their bodies had never been found, but so much blood had been left at the scene of what seemed like a psycho-crazed slaughter that doctors said whoever the victims had been, they couldn’t have survived such a bloodletting. At least two people had been murdered, and it was just assumed that it was John and Vera Castle. Their daughter donated the land to the city, unable to face living there once her parents disappeared.

  Like most of the parks in the Seattle area, UnderLake Park was heavily wooded, with deep ravines gouging the surface. Trails crisscrossed the park, jogging trails, walking trails, and even a few minor hiking t
rails that provided a good workout. Ulstair, my late fiancé, had been caught by a serial killer and murdered in the woods not far from my home. That was when I had met Herne and Ember, and the Wild Hunt. They had helped me track down the killer, and I rested easily because, at the last moment, I had taken matters into my own hands. That particular killer would never walk the world again. After I had dispatched him, I had secretly done a spell binding his spirit away from the physical plane forever. And I had said good-bye to my love, letting him fade into history.

  Kipa and I set out on one of the gentler graded walking trails. Raj happily strained at the leash, wanting to look at anything and everything. We came to a picnic table in a clearing, and I motioned to it. “Why don’t we let Raj off leash for a while? We can sit and talk.” I turned to Raj. “If Raven lets Raj off Raj’s leash, will Raj promise not to run off? Does Raj promise to stay within sight?”

  Raj gave me a puppy-dog look, then shrugged and giggled. “Raj promises. Raj won’t go out of sight.”

  I leaned down and let him off the leash. He might remind me of a dog, but he wasn’t one, and he wouldn’t just run up to strangers and jump all over them. Nor did he chase other creatures unless I gave him the go-ahead. But he liked to wander around and play in the shrubs, and poke around the trunks of the trees.

  Kipa and I sat down at the picnic table, where we could keep an eye on Raj.

  “Sometimes lately I feel like I’ve been going crazy,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. He said nothing, letting me continue to speak without interruption. “I’ve been having flashbacks. I’ll be fine one minute, and then something will trigger a flashback and I’ll be back in that cavern, where she’s pulling off my nails and pulling out my teeth. And I remember how helpless I felt, and how I was so certain I would never walk out of that cave alive.” I pressed my lips together, shaking my head. “What I hate is the randomness of it. How I’ll be doing something normal—cleaning out the ferrets’ cage or putting away dishes or something like that, and the next minute I’m there on her table again. And what I hate most is that I’m the one who put myself in danger. I gave her a ride home that night, I befriended her at the club, and I didn’t think twice about letting her in my car because we had talked for a couple hours. I’m afraid that I’ve lost my sense of self-preservation. As I open up more to people and make new friends, I let down my guard. And this time, it almost killed me. What if that happens again? How can I ever open myself to anybody again without knowing it won’t happen again?”