Witching Hour: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 7 Read online

  “In that case, we should have brought flashlights. Why don’t you run upstairs and get a couple while I wait.” Privately, I thought that something was off. Though given the state of the basement, Tag could be right. It didn’t look like any work had been done down here for a long time.

  Lana headed upstairs and I took advantage of her absence to lower myself into a trance and reach out, trying to probe for anything I might be able to pick up. I closed my eyes, steadying myself against a post that stood in the middle of the immediate room.

  “Is there anybody here?”

  Silence.

  I waited another moment, then asked again, “If there’s someone here, please answer me. I’m here to find out what you want.”

  Another moment of silence and then, as I started to open my eyes, a ripple bent the air in front of me. The light started flickering on and off and a popping noise echoed through the room. The next moment, something that felt very much like a giant fist slammed into my stomach, knocking me backward off my feet. I landed hard on my tailbone, skidding back on the concrete.

  “Motherfucking hell! What the…” I shook my head, dazed. I barely had time to realize how much my stomach hurt before whatever it was grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet, then began to spin me around. I let out a scream as my unseen opponent sped up. It was like I was on the end of a crack-the-whip game.

  “Raven!” Lana’s voice echoed from the stairwell. “Whatever you are, leave her alone!”

  I was trying to keep my arm from being ripped out of the socket when the force let go and I went sailing across the floor, smashing into the brick wall with my right shoulder. As I slumped to the floor, the lightbulb popped and went out.

  Dizzy and hurting, I squinted as Lana turned her flashlight beam on me and clattered down the stairs.

  “Raven, are you all right?” Her voice was laced with fear.

  I moaned, rolling over onto my hands and knees. “Yeah, I’ll survive. I’m banged up, but nothing seems to be broken.” I motioned to her, waving toward the steps. “Go upstairs. Don’t stay down here.”

  Whatever the beastie was, I knew that it could easily kill a human. I was Ante-Fae, and while I could be hurt, it wasn’t quite as easy to kill me. We were stronger and more resilient than most humans and Fae. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt like hell when somebody decided to whale on my ass.

  “I’m not leaving you down here alone.” She scurried over to me and leaned down, taking my arm.

  I braced myself against the wall and, with her help, managed to get to my feet. As we headed to the stairs, there was a deep laughter behind us.

  “Ignore it,” I urged Lana.

  We were almost to the steps when I heard something whistling behind us and I dropped to the floor, dragging Lana with me. Overhead, a streak of silver flashed by to lodge in the wall. Lana flashed her light up and we could see that it was a hatchet, the blade gleaming wicked sharp. Whatever was down here wasn’t playing games.

  “Let’s get the fuck upstairs,” I whispered, crawling over to the stairs and starting to scramble up them, Lana by my side.

  We made it to the hallway and slammed the door behind us, and Lana locked it. A loud thud came from behind the door, and the door shook. Then everything fell silent. We waited for a moment, but the swell of psychic turbulence died away.

  My shoulders slumped. “I think it’s done for now.”

  “What the hell was that?” Lana whispered, turning to me.

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it doesn’t like us.” I limped into the living room, wincing as my stomach throbbed where the spirit had hit me. “Has anything like this happened before?”

  She shook her head. “Not this bad. I’ve seen things move. I’ve felt like I’ve been watched. Now and then I’ll feel like something is shoving me in my lower back, but it’s never been like this.” She lowered herself to the sofa, pale and shivering. “What is it, Raven? What should I do?”

  I joined her, easing down onto the cushions. I was keeping my radar alert, just in case it decided to follow us into the living room to pick another fight, but though I could sense spirits around, none of them seemed to be paying much attention to us.

  “I’ll have to do some more research before I know what you’re facing. As for what you should do, don’t go back in the basement. That’s a definite no-no. You don’t have anywhere else you can stay, do you? If you’re right and this spirit is targeting you, I don’t like the thought of you staying here.”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I’m broke, I don’t have a job, and I’m depending on Tag right now to support me. I’ve had several interviews this week, though, so wish me luck.” She paused, then asked, “I’m not crazy, am I? There really is something here.”

  “My stomach and shoulder say you’re as sane as I am. Probably more so.” I winced, rubbing my shoulder where the ghost had slammed me against the wall. “Crap, that creature’s strong. I seldom meet spirits this antagonistic, and even rarer are ones who have this much power. Which leads me to wonder if it’s a ghost at all.”

  “What do you mean? What else could it be?”

  I shrugged. There were a whole list of things that could be behind the haunting. “Astral nasties, possibly even a demon—”

  “Demon? You mean demons really exist?” Lana looked like I’d just prodded her with a pitchfork.

  “Oh, there are all sorts of creatures out there on the astral. Demons, devils, shadow people, shogas, nitewings. You name it, it’s there.”

  “I’ve heard of shadow people. They’re scary enough, but what are shogas and nitewings?”

  “Shogas are astral doppelgängers. They can take the form of various creatures and lure you into believing they’re something else. Their real power lies in their ability to convince and persuade. They’re excellent mimics. Nitewings…have you heard of Mothman?”

  She blinked. “You mean that Mothman is real?”

  “Mothman isn’t a singular being. The mothmen—or nitewings—are a race of creatures who live on the astral but can project into the physical. They can read minds. They’re also mimics, but not in the same way as doppelgängers. They’re more frightening. They act like they can predict tragedy, but they really engineer it.” I stared at my hands, hating that I was adding to her fear quotient, but she had asked and I didn’t like sugarcoating the truth.

  “What do you mean, they engineer tragedy?” Lana stiffened.

  “First, we don’t know exactly what they want. Nobody has ever figured it out. But they will at times target an individual and then tell them something’s going to happen. The event happens, and the person will believe the nitewing. But in reality, the nitewing has engineered the tragedy as an elaborate ruse to bring their target under their influence.” I shrugged. “Not many people know about them, but the Ante-Fae do. We’ve known about them for thousands of years.”

  “And they exist right beside us? Crap. I’ll never feel safe again.” Lana curled her legs beneath her on the sofa.

  “Don’t let it freak you out. They don’t live in our world. They’re mostly on the astral. They tend to target individuals who wield a lot of political power. And they’re fairly rare. Wherever their species originated, it wasn’t here. That much I know, and that’s about all I know.” I leaned back. “I need to do some readings about your ghost—if it is a ghost. How long is Tag going to be gone?”

  “He’s supposed to be gone through tomorrow night and come home Sunday morning.” Lana held my gaze. “What should I do, given he doesn’t believe me? I’m sorry he’s always so churlish to you. I wish I knew why he doesn’t feel comfortable around you.”

  “You mean, you wish you knew why he can’t stand me? I know full well that Tag doesn’t like me and bluntly, I don’t care, except that it impacts our friendship. As to what you should do, well, I wish you had someplace to stay for now other than here. But I can tell you this. If you want me to get rid of this thing, I’ll probably have to hav
e Tag’s permission since he’s going to find out one way or another.”

  The front door suddenly creaked. Lana jumped, gasping, but the next moment, Tag popped into the room, his duffle bag over his shoulder. He was smiling, until he saw me sitting there. Then the grin slid away and his eyes clouded over.

  “Raven, what are you doing here?”

  I blinked. He usually wasn’t friendly, but he’d never started off with such an abrupt opening.

  “Lana asked me over.” I paused, glancing at her. I wasn’t sure how much to say. I didn’t want him to start ragging on her.

  Lana turned to him. “Tag, honey. What are you doing home?”

  His eyes flickered from me to her. “The meeting was canceled before I got there, so I turned around and drove home. So tell me, what have you been up to?”

  She licked her lips. “Tag, you know how I told you I thought something’s been watching me? Well, Raven came over to check it out. We were attacked by a ghost.”

  He snorted. “A ghost attacked you? Come on. You know that’s impossible. I thought I told you I didn’t want you messing with all that psychic stuff. It’s dangerous.”

  “Really, it happened. Whatever it is, it slammed Raven off her feet and against the wall.” Lana nervously hurried over to Tag. “Let me take your coat, sweetheart.”

  Tag shrugged out of his jacket and dumped it in her arms. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head. “Where were you when this supposed attack happened?”

  I stood, eyeing him steadily. “You’ve got one hell of a spirit down in your basement, Tag. It’s dangerous, and I don’t trust it not to hurt Lana. Or you, for that matter.”

  Within seconds, his look shifted from aloof to angry. He swung on Lana, leaning over her, gesticulating wildly.

  “I told you never to go down in the basement. It’s dangerous down there, all right, but not because of some fucking ghost. With the loose wiring and weak flooring, it’s a wonder you both weren’t killed. I warned you, and yet you ignored me? What the fuck? On top of which, you invited Raven over here when you know I don’t want her around. Are you stupid or are you just on the rag?”

  Lana shrunk back, her face flaming. “I’m sorry—we didn’t mean any harm—”

  I pushed my way between them. “Yo, Tag! You really talk to your girlfriend like that? Seriously, dude, get a grip.” I couldn’t stand it when men went off on their loved ones, and I wouldn’t put up with it from anybody. “I don’t care if you don’t like me, but have some respect for Lana.”

  “I think you need to leave,” Tag said, swinging back to me, his face a mask of anger. “I’ve had a long day and the last thing I need is some freak who isn’t even human telling me how to treat my girlfriend.”

  Lana was crying now. I didn’t want to leave her here with Tag, not with how angry he was, but I wasn’t sure how to get her to come with me. Finally, I gathered my jacket, purse, and tote bag.

  “Lana, do you want to come with me? You can sleep in my guest room. You don’t have to stay here and listen to this.” I turned to her. “Please come. I don’t want to leave you here—”

  “I’m not going to hurt her, you bitch.” Tag glared at me. “Lana, if you leave, the next time you come back you’d better bring a truck to move your stuff out.”

  She hung her head, tears pouring down her face. “I’m sorry, Raven. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’ll be all right. Tag won’t hurt me.”

  I wanted to say that he already had. That his words were as cruel as a fist. But I held my tongue. She loved him, and she was still making excuses for him. There wasn’t anything I could do until she was ready.

  “All right. I’m going. But Lana, I don’t care what time it is. If you need me to come get you, call me. Day or night. You understand?” I forced her to look at me, holding her gaze.

  After a moment, she nodded. “Thank you. You’d better go now.”

  I swept past Tag, wanting to backhand him. Instead, I slowed as I neared him. “If you ever hurt her, I’ll make certain that you regret it. Do you hear me? Also, you do have a dangerous spirit in your basement. I suggest you hire someone to take care of it, if you won’t let me at it.”

  And with that, I headed toward the door, all too aware of his lingering gaze on my back.

  Chapter Six

  I was on the way home when my phone beeped. I had it plugged into the Vox system on my car when Carnie—the AI system on my phone—announced, “Text from Lana.”

  “Read the text,” I said.

  Carnie read aloud in her robotic voice. “Raven, please don’t worry, I’m all right. I’ll be okay—Tag won’t hurt me. I’ll call you on Monday.” Then the system asked, “Do you want to text Lana?”

  I thought about it as I guided my car to a halt at the red light. I could text her, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Everything wasn’t all right, and I didn’t trust Tag farther than I could throw him. “No.”

  When I arrived home, I still wasn’t ready to text her back. I was so pissed about Tag’s treatment of her, and that she accepted it, that I knew I’d blow up and possibly damage the friendship forever. Instead, I curled up on the sofa with Raj snoozing beside me and flipped on the television. I found an old movie and settled back to watch Conan the Barbarian beat the crap out of Thulsa Doom. But every time Arnold threw a punch at James Earl Jones, I kept imagining Tag’s head on Jones’s body.

  “Raven feed Raj?”

  The words filtered through the clouds in my brain at the same time that I realized something was licking my face. Opening my eyes, I saw Raj, staring at me, his tongue lolling out. His eyes were bright and he looked raring to go.

  The next thing I realized was that I had a nasty cramp in my side. I had fallen asleep on the sofa, contorted to all hell. While I was definitely bendy—I practiced yoga on a fairly consistent basis—I wasn’t prepared to spend eight hours curled up like a malformed pretzel.

  I tentatively stretched out my arms and then unfolded my legs, groaning as my knees locked. Another moment, and I was leaning over, trying to stretch out my hamstrings as I shook away the morning fog. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to nine.

  I muttered a few choice curse words as my back protested, then trudged my way into the bathroom. Raj followed me until I reached the door.

  “No, you can’t come in, and yes, I’ll feed you. But I need a shower first, Doodlebug.” Doodlebug was a nickname I’d somehow attached to Raj years ago. It seemed to fit him, and he always liked it, though I hadn’t told anybody else about it except Ulstair and Rafé—Ulstair’s brother. Ulstair had treated Raj with the utmost respect and care, and Rafé was always good to him. I didn’t want anybody making fun of my buddy.

  “Raj, go wait in kitchen.” Raj lumbered off. He knew better than to nag me when I first woke up, especially when I was headed in for a shower.

  I peeled off my clothes, dropping them into the hamper. Choosing a rich vanilla-scented shower gel, I turned on the faucet and stepped under the rain showerhead. As the warm water hit my skin, I began to loosen up. I tried not to think about Lana and the way Tag had treated her, though it was hard to divert my focus from the night before. Beyond Tag’s Neanderthal behavior lurked the deeper problem of the ghost. I sure as hell couldn’t go back while Tag was around, but I needed to take some more readings before I could figure out what we were facing.

  Finally, exasperated, I shook away the problem and focused on the get-together tonight. Ember and Angel were coming, we’d have a blast, and then tomorrow I’d go help people who actually wanted me around. Sitting on the shower bench, I finally managed to shake off my frustration, and shaved my legs and arms, sliding the razor over the vivid markings that covered my upper body. The swirling designs had been with me since birth, and they were as much a part of me as was my breath and my heart.

  When I finished shaving, I gave my bush a much-needed trim, rinsed off again, and then stepped out of the shower. At least I was awake now. I padded back into the bedroom and op
ened my closet.

  What to wear?

  I sorted through my clothes. Most of them were dresses or tops and skirts, and mostly in shades of blue, purple, green, and black. Given we were going to be partying and I didn’t expect to be knocked around like I had been the night before, I selected a purple taffeta skirt with a high-low ruffled hemline, and a black low-cut top. I slipped into my panties and bra, then slid the formfitting knit top over my head and fastened the skirt around my waist, zipping it up the side. I found one of my corset belts and wrapped it around my waist, buckling it in back and cinching the laces in front.

  Sitting at my vanity, I put on my makeup, extending the liner out to form cat’s eyes, and then brushed my hair till it shone. I added a pair of chunky-heeled patent leather boots that were as sexy as they were stable, and leaned back, staring at myself in the mirror.

  “You’ll do,” I said after a moment.

  My phone rang. Frowning, I picked it up. I didn’t recognize the number, though I vaguely thought I’d seen it before.

  “Hello?”

  “Raven, it’s Yutani.” His voice was husky, almost throaty, and I tried to keep myself from sighing aloud. Yutani also worked for the Wild Hunt, but whereas Ember, Angel, and I had formed a tight friendship, I definitely kept him at bay. He wanted to date me, but I wasn’t interested.

  First, I wasn’t over Ulstair’s death. I expected to start dating again at some point, but right now wasn’t that point. Second, Yutani wasn’t the man for me. I liked him and he was cute, but he ran with Coyote at his heels and I just wasn’t comfortable inviting chaos into my world. And third—and perhaps most important—Yutani needed to find himself.

  Even from the outside, I could see he wasn’t ready for any new complications in his life. Since I wasn’t looking for a casual fling, I had turned him down several times already. I could satisfy myself until I met the right person. Then, man or woman, they’d be a complement to my life rather than me trying to fill the hole that Ulstair’s death had left.