I winced a little. “I know, I know.”
The motorcycles roared away into the night, taking the Outcast with them.
“I don’t understand how you can just let this happen!” the tourist mom burst out. “Let creatures like that walk the streets! We came here to be entertained, we came here to see ghosts, not, not . . .” She gestured at her daughter and husband. “Not this! God! Oh, God! What’s wrong with you people?”
My tail twitched. I wanted to tell the woman that she was an idiot for assuming that the eldritch community, a haunted eldritch community, for Christ’s sake, was safe, that it was the paranormal equivalent of Dollywood, everything sanitized for their protection. But it wasn’t her fault, not really. She’d done exactly what the PVB had encouraged tourists from all across the country to do.
Cody shot me a quick glance. He might not have been able to read my emotions like one of the Outcast, but he knew my temper. “One of those creatures saved a young woman’s life tonight, ma’am,” he said gently. “Are you staying in the area? Miss Johanssen and I would be happy to accompany you and your family to your car, or I can have an officer take you to your hotel if you’re not feeling up to driving.”
The tourist mom blinked away tears, sniffling. “We’re staying at the Ridgeway Motor Lodge. I can drive. I just want this all to be over.”
Cody and I escorted the three of them to their car, which was parked in the little lot behind the coffee shop. It was disconcerting to see how empty and lifeless the father and daughter were after having been drained of their emotions. I’d had a run-in with a ravening ghoul of my own, but it hadn’t been anywhere near this severe. I’d been lucky; or maybe my super-size emotions had saved me. God knows, I’d spent enough time wrestling with them, but I’d never thought before about how much of what animates us as human beings—or semi-human beings—depends on our feelings.
Without them, we were dead inside.
The tourist dad sat placidly in the front passenger seat, gazing at nothing, his hands resting idly on a camera with a big, fancy lens that dangled from a strap around his neck. Behind him, his daughter slumped in the backseat.
“You’re sure they’ll recover?” the tourist mom whispered. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” I put all the conviction I could muster into the word, which was a fair amount. I didn’t think Stefan would mislead her, not with his well-developed sense of honor. “And if you’d like to stay here in Pemkowet while they recover, the PVB will be happy to cover the cost of lodging.”
Okay, I was going out on a limb with that one, but as far as I was concerned, Amanda fucking Brooks owed me. If she’d canceled the Halloween festivities like Cody and I had asked her to do, none of this would have happened.
Of course, there was no telling what would have happened instead.
At any rate, the tourist mom was having none of it. A look of horror crossed her face. “No,” she said hastily, getting behind the wheel of her Audi. “No, thank you. I think we’ve seen quite enough of this town.”
I nodded. “I understand.”
Cody and I watched them drive away. “Too bad,” he murmured.
“It could have been a lot worse without the Outcast.” I was feeling a little defensive of the ghoul squad. “It was a mob scene, Cody. We’re lucky none of the spectators was killed.”
“I know.” He stroked my hair. “I’m not arguing, Daise. I’m sure they’ll be fine, eventually. They shouldn’t have been here in the first place. It’s just . . .” He shrugged. “I should have known.”
I was confused. “Known what?”
“The Tall Man’s remains.” Cody bared his teeth in a half snarl. “That lunatic Clancy Brannigan had to haul them into his house somehow. He must have used that old pickup truck in his garage. But there should have been a scent trail. I should have smelled it the first time we visited the place.”
“How did he hide it?” I asked.
Cody gave me a look, green flaring behind his eyes. “He didn’t. The rain did. The thunderstorm. Remember?”
Oh, I remembered. “You couldn’t have known. Cody, we didn’t even suspect Boo Radley! We just went there to notify him.”
“Right,” he said brusquely. “And if we’d done it before the storm, I would have picked up the Tall Man’s scent.”
There wasn’t a lot I could say to that. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Cody said. “You didn’t know any better. I did. But . . .”
The word trailed away, dangling a host of unsaid things. We hadn’t gone out to investigate immediately because I’d found Cody in a feral state, still moonstruck from the night before. I’d startled him. He’d yanked me down, and I’d liked it. I’d kissed him. I’d initiated a bout of savagely intense lovemaking. Afterward we’d lain together in a nest of woolen blankets and Cody had listened to me explain what had happened in the cemetery, stroking my back from the nape of my neck to the tip of my tail while lightning cracked the sky, thunder rumbled in the marrow of our bones, and the rain poured down, washing away the scent trail.
It had been one of the nicest moments I’d ever known.
“I don’t want to regret it, Cody.” There was a tremor in my voice. “I really don’t.”
“I know.” He slung an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “Come on, Daise. Time to go back.”
By the time we returned to Main Street, things had quieted. Most of the crowd had dispersed. Somewhere in the aftermath, Lurine had shifted back into human form and vanished discreetly along with them. The EMTs were tending to the injured.
Clancy Brannigan was in custody in the back of a police cruiser. The Easties had clambered down the fire escape from atop the Birchwood Grill and were getting a stern lecture from the chief. They were doing their best to look abashed, but I was pretty sure they were delighted with themselves, and I couldn’t blame them.
The Tall Man’s bones still lay in a heap in the middle of the street, moldering under gleaming steel plate.
“Daisy!” Jen was standing in a small cluster that included her sister, Lee, Casimir, Sinclair, and, unfortunately, Stacey Brooks. Jen waved me over, and I saw that Lee had retrieved the spirit lantern and had it tucked into the crook of one arm. “We kept it safe for you.”
“Thanks.” A belated wave of guilt swept over me. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten I’d set it down. “You guys were amazing tonight.”
“You totally saved my life,” Stacy said to Sinclair. She shuddered at the memory, the plush cat ears on her headband trembling. “Totally.”
He glanced at me. “Actually—”
“It’s okay,” I said. There was no way in hell I was going to try to explain to Stacey that I’d nearly gotten myself killed saving her stupid life with an invisible bullwhip of mental energy. Other than the members of the coven, no mundane human could have guessed what had happened there. “I’m just glad no one but Jojo . . .” A lump rose to my throat, and I couldn’t finish the thought.
“I know,” Sinclair said softly, touching the sprig of joe-pye weed drooping over his breast pocket. “She was a brave little thing.”
“She was a foulmouthed, obnoxious little shit, and I’ll miss her.” I rubbed my eyes and nodded at the seemingly empty pickle jar that Sinclair held tight in his other hand. “So what happens now?”
“I’ll take my grandfather’s spirit home and lay it to rest where his bones are buried,” Sinclair said in a grim voice. “And I’ll tell my mother and my sister that if they want me to have any part of their lives, they’ll never, ever threaten me or the people I care about again.”