Ghoul Night (Shadow Detective Book 6) Read online

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

  “I called him earlier to find out how I could reach you.”

  This revelation made me stop dead in my tracks. My mouth suddenly felt dry. Skulick had known I was going to meet Cormac at the Nexus Foundation this evening, which meant that right now, more enemies might be closing in. Great!

  Gripped with paranoia, I scanned the parking lot, searching for any signs of my new exorcist friends. I didn’t spot Cabrera or his team, but I did notice a black hearse parked in the shadows. Its long shape and tinted windows made me think of a coffin on wheels. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have paid the vehicle any mind, but given all the talk about cemeteries…well, a hearse turning up in front of the paranormal institute seemed like an odd coincidence. As I approached the vehicle, Morgal’s mark flared, confirming my dark suspicion.

  Before I could reach for my magical pistol, a shadowy figure jumped out from behind the hearse. Jennifer let out a scream as the figure barreled into me. The impact sent me flying.

  As I fell, I caught a quick glimpse of my attacker. The bald head, the chalky deformed features, the pink, inhuman eyes glaring back at me—it had to be the ghoul. The fiend had followed Jennifer all the way across the city. Desperation might drive a ghoul to prey on living flesh, but I’d never heard of one stalking a specific victim.

  Sharp talons lashed out at me and sliced my coat, seeking to rend flesh. The first attack failed to draw blood, but I doubted my luck would last.

  The creature targeted me again, but this time I was ready. My gloved hand came up and snatched the monster’s sharp-nailed claw in mid-attack. I saw the stunned shock in the crimson eyes as the ghoul felt my demonic strength pushing back at him.

  “What are you?” the ghoul hissed.

  If my life was an 80s movie—and sometimes it sure feels that way—I would have followed in the tradition of Arnold or Stallone and said something tough like, “Your worst nightmare.” Being that this was reality and not some cheesy action flick, I kept my big mouth shut and tried to draw Hellseeker with my other hand. I never got a chance to squeeze the trigger as the ghoul drove his sharp teeth into my flesh. Pain lit up my shoulder, and my demon hand let go of the ghoul.

  As I stumbled back, blood leaving a trail of red in the parking lot, the beast whirled toward Cormac, who had watched our short battle in stunned silence. He stood in front of Jennifer, shielding her from harm, but although the man was a combat veteran, he was unarmed and up against a superhuman enemy. The ghoul sensed his advantage, and he flashed a triumphant smile at Cormac. Desperate, the psychic hurled himself at the creature.

  The beast stepped aside with inhuman speed and his arm whipped out. The blow connected and sent Cormac crashing into my parked muscle car.

  The field now clear, the ghoul went after Jennifer. As the psychic slipped down the side of the car door, barely conscious from the impact, I was struggling to get up. Blood collected around my feet, and my mind whirled with questions.

  Why would the ghoul risk everything and leave his cemetery to hunt the living? This behavior was out of character for his kind, so what the hell was going on here?

  I stumbled after the creature as he dragged a still screaming and kicking Jennifer toward the hearse. She was putting up a serious fight, but one quick punch from the ghoul knocked her out cold. He slung her limp form over his shoulder as if she was a doll.

  Rage bubbled up in me as I struggled to catch up with the ghoul. I saw him stuff her in the back of the hearse and close the door.

  I drew Hellseeker as I continued to make my way toward the monster’s vehicle.

  The ghoul whirled toward me and whipped out a long, white object. It was a dagger of some sort, but I couldn’t tell much more than that because the bastard proceeded to throw it at me. I ducked behind another parked car and heard the knife whistle overhead. As the blade clattered on the parking lot, the hearse’s engine bashed the night.

  No!

  I peered up from my cover just in time to see the hearse scream out of the parking lot.

  The ghoul had gotten what he’d come for. Jennifer was at the monster’s mercy now.

  8

  The Kawasaki Ninja’s throbbing engine echoed in Archer’s ears as she blasted down the deserted nighttime streets. While the bike’s tires hungrily devoured asphalt, she struggled with the latest twist her tumultuous life had taken. She had only recently devoted herself to a new mission—hunting vampires. But now Skulick wanted her to go after Raven.

  A demon had corrupted Raven’s soul and now controlled his actions. The city’s most relentless protector had become its greatest danger. Or so Skulick believed. And who was she to question the seasoned paranormal investigator? The man had devoted his life to keeping the world safe from the forces of darkness. He’d been hunting vamps when she was still in diapers.

  Archer cursed under her breath as the urban sprawl flashed by. Neither she nor Raven seemed to ever catch a break.

  She cut a sharp right, tires burning rubber as the Nexus Foundation jumped into view.

  “Are you there yet?” Skulick asked, his impatient voice emanating from a headset in her motorcycle helmet. Skulick’s latest gift. The man had all the coolest toys, and he wasn’t stingy about sharing.

  Her mystical arsenal had gotten some upgrades thanks to Skulick over the last few weeks. She had originally thought the wheelchair-bound monster hunter was grooming her as a future partner for Raven since Skulick could no longer do fieldwork. Now it felt more like she was going to be his replacement.

  Among her newer weapons was the Witch Whip, its straps made from the noose used to hang a witch, and the Bloodslayer, a silver stake that, according to Skulick, was equally effective against bloodsuckers as well as other creatures of the night. The whip and stake complemented her trusty crossbow and a pistol loaded with blessed silver bullets. Armed to the teeth as she was, she felt like she could venture into Hades and take on the whole underworld herself.

  But the thought of having to use her monster hunting gear against Raven… now that was another story.

  According to Skulick, she wouldn’t have to. A few quick shots from a tranquilizer gun should knock Raven out. The old man had stressed the importance of the mission. He seemed to feel that Archer was their last hope of saving Raven from himself—and the people hunting him. Over the last few weeks, he’d been working with the White Crescent, but he was beginning to doubt that they were the right people for the job. They didn’t care whether they brought Raven in dead or alive. The Vatican saw him as someone beyond saving. A wild beast to be taken down. Skulick wasn’t so quick to give up on his ward. He would walk through the fires of Hell to save Raven. And so would she, for that matter. They owed him. Thanks to Raven, they were both human again.

  Archer was working off a solid lead now. Skulick had recently received a call from Joe Cormac, the psychic who had helped them during the Soul Catcher case. Cormac had asked for Raven’s help. Recognizing an opportunity, Skulick had told Cormac to call his partner directly. He’d played his cards close to the vest, never revealing that Raven was possessed. He was going to let Cormac lure Raven into a trap without the psychic even knowing it.

  Archer slowed as she drew closer to the Institute. She had almost reached the building when she saw a black hearse tear out of the dark parking lot. Moments later, Raven’s Equus Bass followed.

  Archer cursed. She had missed him by seconds. Fortunately, it didn’t appear like Raven had spotted her in the dark.

  Who was the driver of the hearse? And why was Raven chasing him?

  Didn’t really matter. She couldn’t let him get away.

  Archer performed a quick U-turn and tore after Raven’s ride, making sure to keep enough distance to avoid detection. Hopefully he would be too preoccupied with the hearse to notice her.

  She clenched her jaw as she muttered into her helmet’s microphone, updating Skulick on the situation. In her heart she he couldn’
t help but feel that she was betraying Raven on some level as she spoke. She had to remind herself that this was for his own good. Skulick wouldn’t steer her wrong, not when it concerned his partner. Despite the man’s gruff exterior, she knew he cared deeply about Raven.

  “I was unable to intercept the target but tailing him right now.”

  “Stay on him. Don’t let him out of your sight,” Skulick ordered.

  She wouldn’t. This was their best shot at bringing Raven in alive, and she didn’t plan on blowing it.

  9

  Cormac gaped at me. His hand trembled as he shakily rose to his feet. Perhaps he was getting used to facing down ghosts, but going head to head with a ghoul was a first for him. And for me, too. The undead bastard had caught us both off guard. I swore it wouldn’t happen again.

  The psychic stared at me with a dazed expression as the words tumbled from his quivering lips. “Oh my God, that thing has Jennifer. We have to go after her!”

  I couldn’t have agreed more—which probably explained why I was already running toward the driver’s side door of the Equus Bass. Understanding my intent, Cormac staggered around to the passenger side. As I rushed toward my ride, I scooped up the ghoul’s dagger and inspected it. Judging by the color and texture, the knife had been made from bone. Human bone, no doubt. Why let any part of a good meal go to waste, right?

  Sometimes my dark sense of humor even grossed me out, but I sensed the ghost of a wry chuckle from my demonic partner.

  “We’re going to save your girl,” I said to Cormac.

  This caught Cormac of guard. “My girl?”

  “Oh, I thought you and her… never mind. We’re going to save your friend.”

  Cormac didn’t seem one hundred percent convinced. He was all too aware of the danger inherent in going up against a servant of the dark side. His eyes suddenly widened, having spotted the red splotch on my trench coat.

  “Oh shit, man, you’re bleeding.”

  “I’m okay,” I muttered under my breath, trying to downplay the injury. It wouldn’t do for Cormac to look too closely at the wound.

  My words weren’t mere macho posturing. The ghoul’s talons had drawn blood, but a quick inspection of the injury revealed that the wound was already healing. Apparently, my pact with the demon hadn’t merely improved my speed and strength. Regenerative powers seemed to be part of the deal.

  I could almost get used to this.

  Almost.

  I jumped into my car and fired up the engine. Cormac joined me in the passenger seat. I wouldn’t waste any time trying to talk him out of joining me. Judging by the intense emotion in his eyes, I doubted I would’ve been able to. If the psychic was determined to be part of this craziness, at least this way I could keep an eye on him.

  By the time, I reached the end of the next block, I’d lost the hearse. Fortunately, it didn’t matter. We both knew all too well where the ghoul was headed.

  Cormac stared at me questioningly. I felt the tension in his balled fists and clenched jaw.

  “So that thing was a ghoul?”

  “He sure fits the description.”

  “What are you saying? You told Jennifer that you’d fought ghouls before.”

  I shrugged. “Not exactly.”

  “I thought you were the expert when it came to this stuff.”

  “Ghouls have become pretty scarce nowadays.”

  Cormac’s voice took on a skeptical edge. “Well, what do you know? Do those things usually ride around in hearses and abduct people?”

  That was a new one for me, I thought. The hearse must have been the ghoul’s only option. It had probably belonged to the funeral home Jennifer had inherited. I couldn’t imagine the thing had a legal driver’s license, but it was apparently at least somewhat adept at blending into human society. Not for the first time, I wished I could call Skulick for advice.

  Cormac kept pressing me. “You said they eat the dead and live underground, so why is this monster going through all the trouble of going after Jennifer?

  Good question. As the roads whipped past me, I mulled over what Jennifer had told us about her first encounter with the cemetery dweller. She had talked about the strange glyphs etched in the tombstones and how they had all lit up with a weird green glow. I was getting a bad feeling about this whole situation. What could this undead grave robber be up to? I couldn’t believe the ghoul would go to all this trouble for a meal, so what was his plan?

  One way or another, we’d know soon enough.

  It took us about another twenty minutes to reach the cemetery. A high stone wall ringed the small burial ground, the main gate overgrown with moss and ivy. Moonlight silhouetted the creepy, long-abandoned funeral parlor that overlooked the cemetery. Jennifer believed her father had been the leader of an arcane cult. I wondered what sort of cult owned cemeteries populated by ghouls. Goosebumps pricked my neck. Not even a seasoned monster hunter looks forward to marching into a necropolis after sunset.

  Cormac was already unbuckling his seatbelt, his gaze fixed on the gate ahead. His eagerness to begin our search for Jennifer drove home the urgency of the situation. The life of an innocent woman hung in the balance, and it was up to us to save her.

  I pulled up to the cemetery gate and parked. Graffiti bled down the wall that enclosed the graveyard. The punks who roamed this rundown neighborhood had little respect for the dead.

  Cormac shot me a determined look. “You have a weapon you could spare?”

  I nodded. “I would feel a little naked myself if I had to walk into a ghoul-infested cemetery unarmed.”

  I got out of the car. There was a heaviness in the air, the feeling that generally preceded a black magic ritual. Morgal’s mark throbbed. We’d come to the right place, that was for sure. The last time I’d felt such a palpable darkness was when the Crimson Circle had nearly torn down the barrier between our world and the dimension of fear. This didn’t bode well.

  I popped the trunk and pulled out Demon Slayer. I was getting out the big guns here, metaphorically speaking. The sword was the most powerful arcane weapon in my possession. I had a feeling I would need it for what lay ahead.

  I studied the various runes etched into the steel’s surface, felt the reassuring weight of the sword’s bone handle. Recently, I’d purchase a leather scabbard for the demon-killing sword, which I now slung over my shoulder. Unlike Hellseeker and my magical protective ring, the Seal of Solomon, it was pretty much impossible to walk around with the sword in the city, and I only brought it along if I was walking straight into a fight. Cormac eyed me expectantly. I handed him a Glock I kept in the trunk of the Equus Bass as back-up. The handgun seemed a bit of a joke compared to my green glowing magical pistol, and the psychic raised his eyebrows in a frown. I sensed Cormac was itching for a rematch with the ghoul, and it worried me.

  “A gun? Do you have an extra magic sword instead? I thought supernatural creatures couldn’t be harmed by mortal weapons.”

  Well, it looked like somebody had been doing his homework. When I’d first met Cormac, he’d been a newbie in the world of the supernatural. Now, he knew enough to start asking the right kind of questions.

  I pointed at the Glock and said, “It’s not magic at the level of Hellseeker, but it’s loaded with blessed silver bullets that should prove effective against a lower-level demon like a ghoul. They’re made of flesh and blood, not ectoplasm like a ghost or spirit.”

  Cormac nodded even if he didn’t seem one-hundred percent convinced. His eyes lit up with killer instinct as he released the Glock’s safety. Tonight, the psychic would get a chance to be a soldier again. But what was waiting for us in the cemetery was worse than any human enemy. We were about to step into the lair of a creature that was far older than mankind itself.

  Cormac’s gaze lingered for an extra beat on my gloved hand. It completely hid my long-nailed demon claw from view, but Cormac was probably wondering why I only wore one glove instead of two. Fortunately, he didn’t pry, his mind occupied w
ith the grim task ahead. I made a mental note to wear two gloves in the future to avoid suspicion.

  I cocked Hellseeker and slipped off my protective magical ring. I hesitated for a second before I handed it to Cormac. Before my pact with Cyon, the ring had kept the demon in check. Since letting Cyon in willingly, such precautions weren’t necessary anymore. I wouldn’t be needing the talisman with Demon Slayer secured across my back, and I’d feel better knowing that the Seal of Solomon was keeping Cormac safe.

  Fully armed for battle now, I slammed the trunk shut with a grim sound of finality and turned toward the cemetery’s entrance. It yawned at us like the gates of Hell itself.

  “Let’s do this!” I said, trying to sound braver than I really felt.

  10

  Jennifer’s eyes fluttered open, reality snapping back into focus. Blinding light revealed a scene from her worst nightmare—she was back in the cemetery. She lay splayed out on a mound of cool soil while a shadowy figure was digging a hole in the ground a few feet away. Not just a hole, but a grave. And the figure in question was none other than the trench coat-wearing albino that Raven had identified as a ghoul, whatever that meant.

  Seeing the creature brought it all back. The attack in the institute’s parking lot, the vicious blow to the face, and the darkness which had followed. Suddenly, she wished she could return to that dark state of oblivion. Anything was preferable to the helpless terror she now experienced. She was at the mercy of a monster.

  Almost as if sensing she was awake, the ghoul pivoted toward her. Moonlight sparkled into those red-rimmed pink eyes, and the creature’s skin radiated waves of sickly luminescence.

  Her scream remained lodged in her throat as the ghoul lurched toward her. She wanted to move, but her limbs refused to obey her will. By the time she finally stirred, it was too late. The ghoul was upon her.

  She gagged as the creature’s fetid stench enveloped her, and the taste of bile stung her throat. Decay and mold clung to the beast like a ghastly shroud. She peered into the monster’s eyes. The blank gaze of a shark homing in on its prey met hers. But there was another emotion there. Beyond the hate and evil, there was a strange longing mixed with a sense of anticipation. The mouth distorted into a crooked grin. “The time of waiting is almost over.”