people?”
She shook her head side to side. “Not blackmail, I’m talking about real bodies. Teresa says we can’t alert the police to our find; they’ll come in and shut us down while they do an investigation. Teresa says we’ll lose too much time. She plans on alerting the authorities the day we wrap up, pretending to make the discovery then.”
Real bodies. This could be the reason spirits are haunting this place.
“Can you take me there without Teresa figuring out what we’re doing?” I asked.
“Tonight,” she said. “Meet me in back of the building, and don’t tell anyone else. The fewer people that see us together, the safer I’ll be.”
“Sure. Let’s make it midnight.”
“Why midnight?”
“Seems appropriate, somehow.”
“Okay. I’ll be the one in the black Power Ranger costume.”
“Not pink?” I’d guessed wrong.
“I’m saving that one for my, uh, bonus time with you. You’re going to have to rip it off my body—but, uh, leave the mask, and boots. I have to protect my secret identity.”
“Heavens! Can’t wait.”
Oh, the things I do to complete a mission...
I headed back to the cafeteria. There was a poker game to finish.
1
SEVEN
“Ah, the fresh smell of
dead bodies; so relaxing.”
— Caine Deathwalker
Hours later, much richer, I awoke from a brief nap and activated the Demon Wings tattoo on my upper back and shoulders, I paid the usual price for using dragon magic in human form—intense crippling agony. I managed not to piss my pants. My liver flip-flopped, tying itself in knots. The sensation faded in moments as the You-Don’t-See-Me spell activated.
The usual theory behind a Demon Wings tribal pattern was that seeing them, a demon spirit would leave you alone, thinking you were one of them since you had your own demon wings. My tat took this one step farther, extending the cloaking spell to everything I might encounter. Touching someone, I could pull them inside the effect, letting them see and hear me. Christie had her little override box. I had this.
I left Shiva and Holy in the room, asleep on their cots, and stepped out into the second-story hallway. I made my way to a staircase and took it down to the first floor. It was close to midnight. I ghosted through the shadows of the great hall, heading for the back of the building. The place was full of whining winds and shadow. Floorboards creaked. I heard the scurrying of rats in the walls. I was just one more ghost, unseen, invisible.
I found the back door and went through it. Christie was waiting for me. She stared at the door that—to her—looked like it opened by itself. I closed the door and watched her back up several steps.
I waited, judging her nerve.
After a moment, she advanced, one hand fanning the air between us, her other hand resting on the full-tang hilt of a sheathed katana. She looked cute in a skintight black Power Ranger costume, the mask pushed up on her head like a hat.
She said, “Could have been a draft, I suppose.”
I walked past her and slapped her ass in passing.
She spun, one hand covering the impact point. “Freakin’ hell! This defies all laws of nature.”
I waved a hand she couldn’t see past her face, a few sparks of darkness danced at my fingertips. The shadow magic unspooled into the air, threads that coalesced into an imitation butterfly. My raw magic fueled its pseudo life. The simulacrum fluttered into her hair like an accessory and perched there. Connected to me, the butterfly exempted her from the Demon Wings spell I used. I expected to run into more ghosts, and I wanted to see if my magic could mask me from their peculiar perceptions.
I watched her eyes widen as she saw me. “Don’t freak out. Things around me always
She shook her head side to side. “Not blackmail, I’m talking about real bodies. Teresa says we can’t alert the police to our find; they’ll come in and shut us down while they do an investigation. Teresa says we’ll lose too much time. She plans on alerting the authorities the day we wrap up, pretending to make the discovery then.”
Real bodies. This could be the reason spirits are haunting this place.
“Can you take me there without Teresa figuring out what we’re doing?” I asked.
“Tonight,” she said. “Meet me in back of the building, and don’t tell anyone else. The fewer people that see us together, the safer I’ll be.”
“Sure. Let’s make it midnight.”
“Why midnight?”
“Seems appropriate, somehow.”
“Okay. I’ll be the one in the black Power Ranger costume.”
“Not pink?” I’d guessed wrong.
“I’m saving that one for my, uh, bonus time with you. You’re going to have to rip it off my body—but, uh, leave the mask, and boots. I have to protect my secret identity.”
“Heavens! Can’t wait.”
Oh, the things I do to complete a mission...
I headed back to the cafeteria. There was a poker game to finish.
1
SEVEN
“Ah, the fresh smell of
dead bodies; so relaxing.”
— Caine Deathwalker
Hours later, much richer, I awoke from a brief nap and activated the Demon Wings tattoo on my upper back and shoulders, I paid the usual price for using dragon magic in human form—intense crippling agony. I managed not to piss my pants. My liver flip-flopped, tying itself in knots. The sensation faded in moments as the You-Don’t-See-Me spell activated.
The usual theory behind a Demon Wings tribal pattern was that seeing them, a demon spirit would leave you alone, thinking you were one of them since you had your own demon wings. My tat took this one step farther, extending the cloaking spell to everything I might encounter. Touching someone, I could pull them inside the effect, letting them see and hear me. Christie had her little override box. I had this.
I left Shiva and Holy in the room, asleep on their cots, and stepped out into the second-story hallway. I made my way to a staircase and took it down to the first floor. It was close to midnight. I ghosted through the shadows of the great hall, heading for the back of the building. The place was full of whining winds and shadow. Floorboards creaked. I heard the scurrying of rats in the walls. I was just one more ghost, unseen, invisible.
I found the back door and went through it. Christie was waiting for me. She stared at the door that—to her—looked like it opened by itself. I closed the door and watched her back up several steps.
I waited, judging her nerve.
After a moment, she advanced, one hand fanning the air between us, her other hand resting on the full-tang hilt of a sheathed katana. She looked cute in a skintight black Power Ranger costume, the mask pushed up on her head like a hat.
She said, “Could have been a draft, I suppose.”
I walked past her and slapped her ass in passing.
She spun, one hand covering the impact point. “Freakin’ hell! This defies all laws of nature.”
I waved a hand she couldn’t see past her face, a few sparks of darkness danced at my fingertips. The shadow magic unspooled into the air, threads that coalesced into an imitation butterfly. My raw magic fueled its pseudo life. The simulacrum fluttered into her hair like an accessory and perched there. Connected to me, the butterfly exempted her from the Demon Wings spell I used. I expected to run into more ghosts, and I wanted to see if my magic could mask me from their peculiar perceptions.
I watched her eyes widen as she saw me. “Don’t freak out. Things around me always
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