his pajamas, it rebounded off Cather’s skin. Even in human form, Cather’s flesh was as tough as dragon scales. He grabbed a fistful of the wight’s shirt in one hand and hoisted the undead three feet off the ground.
“Mr. Wallenby,” Cather said as the wight flailed in his grasp. “I would most appreciate it if you would banish this vile thing. I grow bored of playing with it.” Cather flung it against the far wall. The wight hit so hard that fine cracks appeared in the brick. It slid to the ground, dazed, but was already shaking the staggering blow off when Herb moved up next to me.
Herb’s chanting was faster now, more frenetic. Thin lines of sweat streamed down his pudgy face as glowing red characters leapt into being around us. The wight snarled and charged toward us. Herb yelled out a final syllable and the chain of characters turned green. They shot forward like an arrow and bored through the wight’s torso. It stood there, staring at the six-inch hole where its midsection had been, before turning confused glowing red eyes on us. It staggered two steps forward and then collapsed into a pile of ash.
Cather applauded. “Well done, Mr. Wallenby, well done. I must say that you banish as effectively as the old Puritans did when they first came to the New World.”
“You’re not that old, Cather,” I said as I moved over to Megan.
“But I’ve heard stories, Vincent, old friend. Stories that simply prove that the Yankee stock our good Mr. Wallenby comes from is stronger than any undead menace.”
Herb wasn’t paying attention to Cather; he was helping Megan sit up. I knelt next to her on the other side and gently brushed her hair from the bloody gash on her forehead. I pulled out my bandana and held it against the wound. “It’s not deep,” I said, relief flooding through me.
Herb nodded. “Head wounds are such a bugger because they bleed so much. Megan got grazed by a brick when the wight landed. She was lucky.”
So was I. “Let’s get her back to Caulborn HQ. Doc Ryan can check her out.”
“Will you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Megan said, a faint hint of irritation in her voice. “I am fine and completely capable of taking care of myself.” She stood, too quickly and swayed. Herb caught her. “All righty,” she said as she leaned into the necromancer, “maybe a trip to see Doc Ryan isn’t such a bad idea after all.”
“Splendid,” Cather said. “I’m certain Vincent can escort you back to your physician, Ms. Hayes. Meantime, Mr. Wallenby, it would be positively smashing if you would remain for a bit longer and exorcise a few other problematic ghosts for me.” He regarded the ruined sleeve of his pajamas. “And I do believe I will need to place a call to my tailor.” He shook his head ruefully. “This is a dreadful occurrence indeed.”
Megan and Herb said some puppy-dog-eyed goodbyes and I took her back to HQ. We nodded to Jake and went straight to Medical. Doc Ryan was sitting at his desk, leafing through pages in a folder. The man’s white hair was combed in a perfect pompadour, and his leathery brow crinkled when he saw Megan. He hustled over to her, peeled back her bandage, and pursed his lips at what he saw.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I got hit in the head with a gold bar,” Megan replied.
Doc looked at me. “Is she hallucinating?”
“No, that’s what happened.” I gave him a quick overview of our encounter at Cather’s place.
He just shook his head as he cleaned and bandaged Megan’s wound. “I’ll need you to stay down here for a bit so I can make sure you don’t have a concussion,” he said to Megan.
He pointed to me as he pulled a pack of Marlboros from the breast pocket of his white lab coat. “Meantime, Corinthos,” he said as he put a cigarette to his lips, “I think the two of you will want to see this.” As he lit up, we followed him into an examination room and over to a lab table. Some dirt was spread on a
“Mr. Wallenby,” Cather said as the wight flailed in his grasp. “I would most appreciate it if you would banish this vile thing. I grow bored of playing with it.” Cather flung it against the far wall. The wight hit so hard that fine cracks appeared in the brick. It slid to the ground, dazed, but was already shaking the staggering blow off when Herb moved up next to me.
Herb’s chanting was faster now, more frenetic. Thin lines of sweat streamed down his pudgy face as glowing red characters leapt into being around us. The wight snarled and charged toward us. Herb yelled out a final syllable and the chain of characters turned green. They shot forward like an arrow and bored through the wight’s torso. It stood there, staring at the six-inch hole where its midsection had been, before turning confused glowing red eyes on us. It staggered two steps forward and then collapsed into a pile of ash.
Cather applauded. “Well done, Mr. Wallenby, well done. I must say that you banish as effectively as the old Puritans did when they first came to the New World.”
“You’re not that old, Cather,” I said as I moved over to Megan.
“But I’ve heard stories, Vincent, old friend. Stories that simply prove that the Yankee stock our good Mr. Wallenby comes from is stronger than any undead menace.”
Herb wasn’t paying attention to Cather; he was helping Megan sit up. I knelt next to her on the other side and gently brushed her hair from the bloody gash on her forehead. I pulled out my bandana and held it against the wound. “It’s not deep,” I said, relief flooding through me.
Herb nodded. “Head wounds are such a bugger because they bleed so much. Megan got grazed by a brick when the wight landed. She was lucky.”
So was I. “Let’s get her back to Caulborn HQ. Doc Ryan can check her out.”
“Will you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Megan said, a faint hint of irritation in her voice. “I am fine and completely capable of taking care of myself.” She stood, too quickly and swayed. Herb caught her. “All righty,” she said as she leaned into the necromancer, “maybe a trip to see Doc Ryan isn’t such a bad idea after all.”
“Splendid,” Cather said. “I’m certain Vincent can escort you back to your physician, Ms. Hayes. Meantime, Mr. Wallenby, it would be positively smashing if you would remain for a bit longer and exorcise a few other problematic ghosts for me.” He regarded the ruined sleeve of his pajamas. “And I do believe I will need to place a call to my tailor.” He shook his head ruefully. “This is a dreadful occurrence indeed.”
Megan and Herb said some puppy-dog-eyed goodbyes and I took her back to HQ. We nodded to Jake and went straight to Medical. Doc Ryan was sitting at his desk, leafing through pages in a folder. The man’s white hair was combed in a perfect pompadour, and his leathery brow crinkled when he saw Megan. He hustled over to her, peeled back her bandage, and pursed his lips at what he saw.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I got hit in the head with a gold bar,” Megan replied.
Doc looked at me. “Is she hallucinating?”
“No, that’s what happened.” I gave him a quick overview of our encounter at Cather’s place.
He just shook his head as he cleaned and bandaged Megan’s wound. “I’ll need you to stay down here for a bit so I can make sure you don’t have a concussion,” he said to Megan.
He pointed to me as he pulled a pack of Marlboros from the breast pocket of his white lab coat. “Meantime, Corinthos,” he said as he put a cigarette to his lips, “I think the two of you will want to see this.” As he lit up, we followed him into an examination room and over to a lab table. Some dirt was spread on a
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