Chapter 13

I pulled over just before crossing into the village proper and walked the short distance to the river that ran past the nearby houses. Looking around to make sure I wasn't observed, I crouched down and dunked my hands in the water before scrubbing at them with a clump of grass pulled from the banking.

It wasn't perfect, but it cleansed my hands enough that I didn't have to worry about someone noticing the blood.

Back at the car, I settled back into the driver's seat and considered my next move.

I wanted to stay in York. That was certain. Which meant I needed to deflect attention away from me and onto someone else.

Since I wasn't a total monster, I couldn't just plant evidence on any poor sod I might come across, which meant I needed someone sufficiently nasty and, at least somewhat deserving of death.

Fortunately, there were plenty of them in York too.

Banner was my first choice. A drug dealer that no one would miss.

Plant the evidence and lay a trail of crumbs that would lead Jack to him.

I could do that.

Sure.

But first I had to make sure there was no chance of some witch, warlock or necromancer finding a way to connect the death to me. Which meant I needed a spiritual cleanse of sorts.

A soft sigh escaped me as I was struggling for time and I neither knew the relevant people in the area who would have the ingredients I needed, or where I could find them myself. Some would be easy, but a couple of them, it would take days of searching if I tried to gather them myself.

Then there was the ritual. I could recall part of it, but not all. Not enough to make it work anyway, and I desperately needed to make it work. The only way to be sure of that though was to speak to someone who did know the ritual well enough to be able to guide me and there was only one person I knew who I could also trust.

Which meant I had a call to make.

One that I really wished I didn't.

Setting off back to the city, I drove slowly, not exactly eager for what I needed to do. It was dangerous and could bring down on me everything I was fearing.

Really, I was caught between a rock and a hard place, and if I wanted to stay, then I needed to take the risk.

Damn.

By the time I reached the outskirts of York, I was decided on a course of action, and I stopped outside Fulford Cemetery.

It was the main cemetery for the people of the city and had been around for far longer than I had. Spread over twenty-some acres, it was surrounded by trees and a tall wall, and the home of the caretaker was set beside the only gate that led into it.

That gate was closed and locked.

And one of the ingredients I knew that I needed for the ritual needed to come from a cemetery. Since I didn't have the time to drive around checking them all. Fulford was the best option.

Taking the Tupperware containers out of the bag, I opened two and emptied the contents of one into the other. Then I wiped out the empty container as best I could with the hem of my shirt and stepped out of the car.

I'd made sure to mount the pavement and park as close to the wall as I could, which allowed me to climb on my car's bonnet, with a small grimace and a silent apology to my little car for doing so and reach up to the top of the wall.

Dropping down on the other side, I remained crouched as I tilted my head, listening for sounds of alarm or concern. When no alarms were raised, I set off through the darkness, looking for some of the older graves.

It wasn't long before I found one and I took another look around before crouching down and pulling out my knife. I opened it up before stabbing the blade down into the grass that had long since grown over the grave.

Cutting through the sod, I pulled free a small square of grass and sank my fingers into the dark earth beneath. Whispering the words of an old incantation that was more prayer than spell, I pulled up several handfuls of dirt and filled the Tupperware container before sealing it with the lid.

A short walk back to the wall and I cursed as I realised it was too high for me to climb. A problem that clearly I had not anticipated.

Just great.

There weren't even any gravestones close enough to the wall for me to clamber on. I shook my head, irritated at my own idiocy and lack of forethought and turned in a slow circle, looking for a way over the wall.

Which I couldn't find.

That left the gate.

Bloody wonderful.

It wouldn't be a problem if I knew for sure I was invisible and how to activate that ability. Since I didn't, I just needed to be creative.

The gate was made of iron and topped with decorative spikes. They wouldn't necessarily impale me, but they would make clambering over pretty difficult. Small protrusions and the narrow space between each bar were ideal for snagging clothing or shoes and there was no easy way up and over without injuring myself.

A chain with a heavy padlock hung from the gate and I studied it carefully before throwing up my hands. It wasn't like I knew how to pick a lock anyway.

"Hello?"

I turned towards the voice and flashed a tired grin, holding the Tupperware box down at my side.

"Ah… hi."

"What in the blue blazes are you doing out there?" the owner of the voice, a pot-bellied man of middle years dressed in pyjamas and housecoat, stepped out of his doorway. "You shouldn't be in here."

No shit.

"Sorry." I tried to smile as disarmingly as I could. "I was visiting my grandads grave, and I fell asleep."

The man stared at me for a minute, no doubt contemplating my ridiculous lie. After a moment, he grumbled and reached back through the open door to grab a key that was hanging from a hook there.

He crossed over to the gate, muttering and casting dark glances my way. His eyes lingered on the Tupperware container and my dishevelled appearance and clearly decided it too late at night to make a fuss.

With a final dark look, he unlocked the gate and pulled it open. He jerked his chin towards the opening. "Go on, sod off. Don't come back."

"No worries," I replied, ducking my head as I scurried through the opening.

I didn't look back and just carried on, right up the street to where my car was parked. I climbed in and tossed the grave dirt on the back seat and started the engine before he could have a chance to change his mind and challenge me.

Driving carefully, I stuck to the main street until I approached the city centre, and then I began to look for a telephone box. I stopped beside the first one I could find and rooted around in my purse for some loose change.

Breathing a soft sigh of relief when I found a handful of loose coins, I stepped into the telephone box and picked up the handset before inserting the coins, one after another, into the coin slot. I listened to the chink of the coins and the dial tone for several long seconds before I began to dial.

The phone rang six times before it was answered, with me counting silently each ring. The voice on the other end of the phone was weary, and full of pain, the words slurred as though he'd been drinking.

"Hello?"

I licked suddenly dry lips and closed my eyes, letting my head fall against the thin glass panes of the telephone box. I'd never expected to hear that voice again, and it took me a moment to compose myself before I could speak.

"Jamie."

There was silence that stretched uncomfortably, and I began to wonder if he had heard me at all. Then, finally, "Eve?"

"Yes."

"Where are you? Are you okay?" There was an urgency to his voice, an almost care to the words that sucked the breath from my lungs. My heart beat loud in my ears and I had to blink away the tears that threatened to form.

"I-I'm okay."

"You are? Where are you?" he repeated.

"I can't tell you that," I said, voice cracking. "You know why."

"She won't harm you, Eve," he said. "She promised me."

A lie and he had believed her. He'd always had been sweet and trusting. Of all my cousins, he had been the only one who had ever treated me with anything remotely like decency. He was the sort of person who looked for the good in others.

Of course, he would believe her when she told him that.

But I wouldn't.

"I need your help."

"Anything," he said without hesitation. "Whatever you need. Tell me where you are, and I will be with you in a flash."

The worst part about it was that he would, too. He would drop everything and rush north to find me, to help me.

And he would bring death in his wake.

"The Rite of Dissolution," I said. "Remind me what I need to do."

"Why?" There was confusion in his voice, and I could picture the look on his face as he tried to puzzle out what I would need it for.

He was too innocent a soul.

My smile was genuine but my voice full of sorrow as I replied, "You know why."

There was silence again over the phone but for the soft buzz of the static on the line. Then, "Oh," said in a small voice.

He began to speak, and I listened intently, nodding along. I'd remembered most of it, but there were a couple of details missing and they would have been the difference between the ritual working or failing.

"Thank you," I said, after he finished. "I mean that."

"Please, Eve." He choked back tears. "Come home. You'll be safe. I'll protect you."

It would be his death.

That was as certain as return would mean mine.

"Remember what I told you, the day of his funeral?" Oh god, how my voice almost broke at that reminder. "Do you?"

"Yes," he said quietly, and quoted back to me those words I had spoken as tears streamed down my cheeks. "Being kind doesn't mean being weak. Don't let them see where it hurts, and protect yourself, even from those who claim they love you."

"Your kindness will be your undoing, cousin. Don't believe their lies."

"Eve…"

"I know."

I put the phone down before he could say anything else and wiped angrily at my eyes, hating the tears that marked my cheeks. Hating my family for what they had done to me; for what they would do to Jamie.

One day I would return, and I would destroy them. That was the vow I had made as I stood over my father's grave.

But that day was not now.

I rooted back around in my bag until I found the soft white card with just a number embossed on it in elegant gold lettering. Then picked up the phone and dialled.

A woman answered, the distant sounds of the club reverberating in the background, and I had to repeat myself twice before she understood what I wanted. There was silence for what seemed an age before another voice answered.

"Emma, my sweet, youthful, darling, whatever can I do for you?"

"Peter." There was no hiding the smile in my voice. I'd found myself liking the flamboyant vampire. "I need your help."

"Say the word, sweet darling child, and I shall move both heaven and earth to aid you in whatever you need."

I sniffed, and wiped at my nose, the sound turning to laughter at his manner of speech as I shook my head. Somehow just speaking to him lifted my mood. 

"Belladonna," I said. "I need some now and I've no idea where to find it."

Peter was silent a moment as he considered, and then said, "I know someone who will have some."

"Close by?"

"Yes." Another pause. "I have to warn you though."

"About what?"

"You're not going to like him."