The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt by Terri Reid

“No, boggarts, you dunderhead,” she
replied, pausing for a moment to think. “Um, goblins, I think that’s the term
you use.”
    “Oh, goblins,” Sean said. “That sounds much better than
boogers.”
    Ian walked past both of them and found Tiny perched on the
back of the couch, nearly purring loudly enough to cause the room to vibrate.
Absently scratching Tiny’s head, he looked around the apartment. “You’ve done
some cleaning I see,” he said.
    “Well, I had a little search party this morning,” Sean
explained. “I had a visitor who appeared in my apartment, gave me a little
advice and then disappeared before my eyes.”
    “A ghost?” Ian asked casually,
because in his line of work the appearance of spirits had become an everyday
occurrence.
    Shaking his head, Sean closed his door and hooked one of the
pans back over the door. “Not unless ghosts walk around with swords killing
monsters in underground parking garages,” he replied.
    “A monster in the garage?” Gillian
asked, walking over and scratching Tiny’s oversized belly. “There’s a good boy.
Do you like a scratched tummy?”
    She smiled up at Sean and teased, “Was it one of those white
alligators that grow up in the sewer system?”
    “No,” Sean said. “She had a name for it. Hell devil or
something like that.”
    The smile left her face, she stopped scratching Tiny, and
her voice held a serious note when she asked, “Was it Heldeofol?”
    “Yeah. Yeah, that was it,” Sean
said. “Ugliest thing I’d ever seen.”
    “You saw it?” she asked. “Really got a good look at it?”
    “Well, yeah, actually twice in my life,” Sean explained.
“Once, when I was twelve and our family was in Ireland visiting my grandmother,
I was in the woods and heard someone call out. I ran over to see if I could
help, and this red-headed girl was fighting off a bear. Well, it looked like a
bear from the back.”  
    “But it wasn’t a bear,” Gillian inserted.
    Sean shook his head. “No, it wasn’t like anything I’d ever
seen,” he replied. “I looked around, found a big rock, grabbed it and tossed it
at the beast’s head. I got its attention. That’s when it grabbed me by the
arm.”
    “Did it inject you?” she asked.
    “What?” Sean asked, surprised by the question.
    “ Heldeofols have long claws on the
ends of their fingers. Under one claw in each hand they have a hollow, narrow
bone pointed on the end, like a needle. Once they’ve captured their prey, the
bone extends from the claw into the victim, puncturing its skin and injecting venom
into its system,” she explained.
    “Where were you when I was twelve?” he asked.
    Grinning, she shrugged. “A wee babe in arms, I’d say. But
why do you ask?”
    “I felt it, the injection, and then I started getting really
woozy,” he answered. “And I knew I was a goner. And this thing, this Heldeofol,
was looming over me; I guess it was waiting for me to take my last breath.”
    “It does like its food deceased,” she agreed.
    “But then this girl, this red-head, stepped up and sliced
its head from its shoulders,” he said. “And as soon as the deed was done…poof…
the big bad ugly disintegrated.”
    “What happened next?” Ian asked.
    “It gets a little fuzzy,” Sean said, extending his hand and
pointing to a thin scar across his palm. “I think she cut my hand and her hand
and held them together.”
    “Blood mingling,” she said softly. “Well, no wonder.”

Chapter Eight

 
    Sean studied Gillian for a long moment. “That’s an unusual
response,” he said. “Is there something you’d like to share?”
    “Aye, there is,” she replied decisively. “But first I’d like
to hear about the crime you’re investigating.”
    Sean walked over to his computer and opened a new
window.   “The crime scene photos have
been uploaded,” he said. “These will tell you more about the scene than I can.
But, I have to warn you, they’re pretty grisly.”
    Gillian