Autumn's Bane Read online

  My stomach clenched. It sounded gruesome. “What kind of weapons should I bring? My bow? Sword?”

  “Whatever you have at hand. We’re bringing an arsenal. Can you call Marilee and make our apologies? I’m afraid this is one Sabbat that we’re going to have to miss.” He ended the call, texting me the address of the cemetery.

  I turned to Angel who was leaning on the counter, waiting. “We have an emergency. Everybody on board. You’ll need whatever magical energy you have and gather up first-aid supplies. We’re heading into a nasty fight and Herne wants all hands on deck.” As we dashed upstairs to change into battle gear, I told her what had happened.

  Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the cordoned-off side street leading to the Faraday Cemetery. It was on the outskirts of the Worchester District.

  Angel and I had driven over together, the back seat filled with first-aid supplies and whatever weapons we could scrounge up. I had brought my bow, Serafina, and my sword, Brighid’s Flame. I was proficient with both, but right now I wished that we could just raze the creatures down with a spray of bullets. I didn’t like guns, but they had their uses, and facing off against a mass of undead who were out to eat our flesh was unsettling at best. Even more nerve-wracking was the thought that this wasn’t an isolated incident. This was happening all over the country.

  Angel had brought her training bow and some arrows. She wasn’t that good of a shot yet, but she and Rafé were practicing every week with Herne, and both were coming along nicely. She had also brought the crystal shard that Marilee had given her a few weeks back, which allowed her to regroup faster, and to strengthen the energy she was utilizing.

  “Are you scared?” she asked. The Worchester District was slammed with ghosts already. This just made it more frightening.

  “Am I scared? Yes. I’d be a fool not to be, but I’m more scared of the vulnerable people who are going to be caught unprepared. If these things get into the general population, well—we can pick them off one by one, but that doesn’t ensure we can do so fast enough to keep anybody else from dying.” I glanced sideways at her. “You scared?”

  I didn’t have to ask. I knew she was terrified. Angel had been in very few actual fights. But she was doing her best, learning to fight, learning to strengthen her basic abilities. And to me, that was an important step. But not everyone could—or would—take that step. Single mothers didn’t have the luxury of time required to learn self-defense, and the elderly didn’t have the strength. And then there were the kids who simply couldn’t mount their own defense.

  “What are you thinking about?” Angel asked.

  “All the potential victims out there who can’t fight off the monsters under the bed. If this situation gets out of control, cops won’t be the only ones dying.”

  “I know,” Angel said. “Truth is, I’m terrified. I think about DJ. He’s down in the Centralia–Chehalis area, but this is happening everywhere and it’s bound to hit there, too. And DJ’s not going to sit around while people are in danger. I just wish he was in the academy now, instead of at home. They’d make sure he stayed there.”

  DJ was Angel’s half-brother. He was twelve and a genius. Scheduled to enter the Rainier Forest Academy for the Gifted come the fall semester, DJ was getting close to puberty, when his full Wulfine nature would blossom. Which was one reason he was fostering with a family of wolf shifters.

  DJ’s father had been a lowlife wolf shifter who abandoned Mama J.—Angel and DJ’s mother—when he found out she was pregnant. DeWayne had come sniffing around recently, trying to find out everything he could about the child he had abandoned. Angel surmised that he was looking to see if there had been any inheritance when Mama J. was killed. She had managed to put him off, but I had the feeling we hadn’t seen the last of him yet.

  “You think he’d do something stupid? DJ’s a smart boy. He’s got to realize he wouldn’t be able to fight them.”

  “Maybe, but he’s reaching the stage in a wolf shifter’s life—especially a male—that they really go all into the protect-the-pack mindset. Cooper was telling me about it.” Cooper was DJ’s foster father. “We’ve started having monthly meetings over Zone to discuss DJ and his life and future.” As we jogged along, she pointed to the right, up ahead. “Is that the graveyard?”

  I squinted. Sure enough, there was a turnoff into what I had thought was a wide, grassy meadow, but as we neared the entrance, I could see the headstones and the line of cops at the fence. They were shouting and pointing. I tried to get a glimpse of what they were pointing at, but we were still out of the sight line. At that moment, I saw Herne ahead of me, talking to one of the officers. We switched directions and headed over to where they were standing. Yutani and Viktor were beside him.

  I went up to Viktor. “Where’s Talia?”

  He nodded at a parked car on the street. “There. We told her to stay in the car and keep tabs of everything via her laptop. She’s also our main dispatcher. In other words, if you don’t know where one of us is, call her and she’ll figure it out by the Find Friends app on our phones. That way we won’t risk interrupting a fight or something like that. Charlie will be here after sunset, if we’re still fighting, and Rafé is still on the way.”

  “What do we know—” I stopped, staring at the fence.

  There, heading our way with only the fence to separate us, were a handful of what I assumed were the vrykos. They stumbled a bit, reminding me of zombies, but the fire in their eyes was far more intelligent and there was a malevolence about them that was palpable. They were faster than zombies, but not as quick as ghouls—which meant they could outrun someone who couldn’t run, or someone who only walked at a fast pace. Which meant a number of people would be vulnerable.

  “Crap. Okay, we know they don’t feed on energy, but they do eat flesh, drink blood, and can cause contagious infections with their bites, which are necrotic. So what destroys them? I’d say ‘kills,’ but they’re already dead.”

  “Fire, but it has to be directed and hot enough, or they’ll just keep on stumbling through it and end up catching their victims on fire as well. Like skeletal walkers, it should stop them if you make mincemeat out of them. I tried to find magical spells that work against them, but there are only a few necromancers who can work spells of the caliber that will disrupt their energy. And while Raven’s on the way, even she’s not strong enough to use that spell. But her fire magic should help.” He eyed the nearest vrykos.

  It was about twenty feet from the fence, and I wondered if the waist-high barrier would keep them from breaking through.

  “Can they climb the fence?” I asked, pulling out my bow. “I wonder if an arrow will do any good?”

  “If bullets don’t, chances are an arrow won’t either.” Yutani turned to Herne, who was headed our way. “What’s the word?”

  “The word is, the cops don’t have the physical strength to fight these creatures—not most of them. And they came armed with guns, not swords. I called a few friends who should be showing up any minute now.” He glanced at me. “Ember, put away your bow. It won’t do any good. But Brighid’s Flame should cleave through nicely. Angel,” he added, turning to her, “there are three ambulances over there. Go join them and offer what help you can.”

  She nodded.

  “Tell them that they need to be ready to bug out in case they break through the lines. We don’t have the manpower to cover the medics and fight the vrykos.”

  “Will do,” she said, dashing over to them.

  Herne motioned to Viktor. “Go find out how the victims are doing—the ones who’ve been hurt so far.” He turned to me. “I’m glad you wore a leather jacket and sturdy jeans. You do not want to get bitten by one of these creatures. Fae aren’t immune to the bites, apparently, and neither are shifters. So we’re all vulnerable, but at least most Cryptos are strong enough to actually put up a fight.” He motioned for Viktor, Yutani, and me to follow him. “Time to go in. Reinforcements will be here soon and Officer Trent over
there knows to look out for them.”

  We headed toward the graveyard. I tried to breathe normally. I had to calm my nerves because fear was the real killer when it came to fights. Fear subverted the best of instincts.

  The graveyard was surrounded by a low stone fence about three feet high that encircled the perimeter. Small, since it probably encompassed five acres at the most, the Faraday Cemetery was neat and tidy. At least, neat and tidy for the Worchester District. The graves looked like they had been well maintained.

  A line of cops stretched out in front of the gate, carrying shields and long batons. I could feel the energy shift as we drew near. The cops were afraid and they were looking to us to help. It always daunted me when I realized that to them, we were the superheroes coming to save the day, and usually we had no idea what the fuck we were doing.

  They silently parted as we walked up to the gates. Beyond the gates, a mere ten to twelve feet away, the vrykos had gathered and were shuffling in our direction.

  I wondered if they were communicating with one another. Were they like a hive mind? Were they individually controlled by whoever had dragged their spirits into the bodies? I had no clue how this actually worked.

  “Wait for me!” The voice was familiar, and when I turned around, Raven dashed up. She was wearing a short skirt over heavy leggings, boots, and a heavy jacket over a tank top. “Cripes almighty,” she said, staring beyond the gate.

  Behind her, Kipa led a group of stalwart men. They all had a keen look to them and felt on the wild side.

  “I’ve brought members of my SuVahta. Herne? Oh, there you are,” Kipa said, picking Herne out of the group. “We’re here. Let’s go in. My men have been warned.”

  Relief washed over me. These were men out of Kipa’s elite guard. They were wolf shifters, on point, fearless, and loyal. At least we had a decent number to go up against what seemed like a swarm of the hungry ghosts.

  I dashed back over to the medics’ station and handed Angel my bow. “Please hold this for me.” I didn’t want to go back to the car, and it seemed foolish to encumber myself with the extra weight and bulk. After she took it, I withdrew Brighid’s Flame from its sheath. The blade glinted against the light penetrating the clouds overhead. It was razor sharp, and could cleave through metal when need be. The sword had more powers to it than I fully understood, but it was up to me to discover them.

  “Ready,” I said, returning to the others.

  “Ready,” Viktor, Yutani, and Raven chimed in. She looked luminous, as though her magic was filling her aura. I had no idea what spells she had lined up to cast, but whatever they were, she was positively pulsating with energy.

  “The others will have to catch up. Let’s go.” Herne motioned for the officers to open the gates and—with him leading the way—we charged in. The police closed the gates immediately after we were inside and I realized their primary function here was to prevent the vrykos from breaking through the gates into the streets.

  We eased toward the creatures, eyeing them carefully. There were several groups clumped together, five over to one side, four to another, another six beyond. And then there were strays, wandering through the cemetery, ignoring the central hive.

  Herne motioned for Viktor and me to move to the right, while he and Yutani took the left group. Kipa and his guards split off to take the center grouping, and Raven moved off to one side and quickly laid out a skull on the ground, two candles, and a few other tools. I quickly lost sight of what she was doing as the vrykos facing us began inching forward, the light in their eye sockets growing more malevolent with each passing moment.

  I caught the gaze of one of the creatures. I could swear it was thinking—If I move here where will she move…what kind of weapon does she have…what are my chances of eating the flesh off her bones? Things of that nature.

  Feeling all too scrutinized, I caught my breath and rushed forward, sword high, thinking on the go about which way I should turn. At the last moment, I swept Brighid’s Flame down and around, twisting in midair to swing from my left rather than from my right.

  I made contact with the vrykos, my blade biting deep into its flesh. I had managed to clip the creature at his knees, and Brighid’s Flame was sharp, with a polished edge. The blade bit right through the flesh, stopping only briefly at the bone, but the force I had put into the swing carried through and pushed the blade through the knee joint, separating the lower leg from the rest of his body.

  I was startled when no blood appeared, but then remembered he had been dead beforehand, and so there was no blood to spill out. However, magic couldn’t preserve a corpse in its entirety, or at least whoever had cast the reanimation spell couldn’t, and so a thick ooze of green juices slimed out of the wound, splattering on the ground. There was a hiss as it fell and I suddenly remembered that the blood of the vrykos—such as it was—was also toxic. It was burning the grass, which immediately withered up and turned yellow.

  The creature hopped forward on the other leg. He had his arms stretched out in front of him and was aiming for me. I jumped back. He swiped at me again, remaining surprisingly steady on one leg. A low hiss came from his throat, scaring the fuck out of me. In the time we’d been fighting, the vrykos had been silent. I stepped back again as it kept coming toward me. I was trying to decide from what angle to attack again.

  A shriek diverted my attention and I swung around. Oh shit, one of the SuVahta had been hit. He had stabbed his opponent through the heart but must have forgotten that wouldn’t kill it, because the creature had hold of him by the ankle, and had pulled his feet out from under him. The vrykos was biting down on his flesh, ripping at the wolf shifter’s shin.

  “Crap!” I was the closest one to him.

  I darted away from my own opponent, dodging around him to race over to the guard’s side. As I came near, the guard screamed again as the vrykos bit down hard on his shin again, tearing further into the flesh. Blood splattered everywhere.

  I raced forward, bringing my sword down across the creature’s shoulders. I had first thought to behead it, but if I did that, I’d chance catching the guard’s foot.

  The guard kicked hard, dislodging the vrykos from his leg and rolled out of the way. I brought Brighid’s Flame up again and then brought it down hard, right across the neck of the creature. There was the sickening sound of flesh rending, and then a crunch as my blade carved through the top vertebrae. A moment later, the head rolled to the side, teeth gnashing harmlessly.

  I leaned on my sword, panting, but the next moment, I saw that the body was on the move, headless, dragging itself toward the decapitated head. The vrykos’s eyes blazed, staring at me. It seemed that it was still in control of the body, even though the head was no longer attached.

  “Freaking hell, what kind of horror show are you?”

  I jumped over the body to get to the head before its torso did. Turning Brighid’s Flame point down, I drove it through the skull, pinning it to the ground. The next moment, Viktor appeared by my side. He began hack-and-slashing his way through the corpse, tearing it to bits with his sword. I yanked my own sword out of the head, grimacing as I brought the blade down again, this time cleaving it in half. I managed to slice through it, then before I could think, I did so again, quartering the pieces. Finally, the light in its eyes died, and I glanced over to see Viktor doing the same to the body. We finished up and I pointed to the guard.

  “He needs help. Take him to the medics.”

  “Will you be all right?” Viktor asked.

  I nodded, leaning over, my hands on my knees. “I have to be. Just go and then get back here as soon as you can.”

  The half-ogre grunted, then swept up the guard in his arms and began jogging back toward the gate. I picked up my sword again and turned back to my first opponent, who was crawling toward me, using the grass to pull himself along. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and headed over to repeat the process, as dusk fell and the fight went on.

  Chapter Eight


  The sounds of metal against flesh, of grunting and shrieking and curses blurred into a tangled cacophony of unending noise. I ignored the shouts and shrieks, trying to focus on keeping myself alive as I plowed through corpse after walking corpse. The scent of blood was noticeably absent, except for the few guards who were getting caught. Whether Kipa hadn’t warned them about the dangers or they were just getting cocky, I wasn’t sure, but I saw Viktor carrying at least four men out of the graveyard.

  The vrykos seemed like they’d never stop coming and their exhausting, nonstop attempt to break free into the city seemed like it would never end. Everything blurred into a haze in which only we and our enemies existed.

  For a moment I wondered if we tried to talk to them, would they hear us? If we stopped and requested a truce, would they listen? But then reason took hold of me again. The vrykos weren’t vampires. Their souls had been recalled into rotting bodies, and they were angry and confused. They were also being controlled. There was no chance they could—even if they wanted to—make any sort of pact with us.

  By the fourth corpse, I was getting tired. They weren’t easy to kill and I had almost been bitten twice. But I forced myself to keep going. I was fighting a smaller one—in life he had been a small man, thin and spindly—and I swung, trying to undercut him at the legs. At that moment, a shriek overhead jolted me out of my thoughts. It was so loud it set the air to vibrating. Both the vrykos and I stopped and looked up.

  There, winging overhead, was a misty form of a dragon. Long and sinuous, like a serpent with wings, the creature shimmered as it sailed by, luminous against the sky.

  I froze. “Dragon!” The word came ratcheting out of my mouth before I realized I was screaming.