The Dead Come Calling Read online

  But I also wasn’t stupid. Victor Martin Kincade was clearly a dangerous man. There was no telling how many women he’d hurt in the last thirty years.

  “I’m only going to do an internet search on him,” I stated. “I won’t call anyone or talk to anyone. Just research on where he is and what he’s doing.”

  Mal’s jaw clenched tightly and I found myself entranced by the flex of the muscles there. I blinked, lifting my gaze back to his.

  “Promise me that’s all you’ll do,” he demanded, his jaw relaxing slightly.

  I nodded.

  “Out loud, Zoe.”

  His distrust stung, but I didn’t let it show. I was sure that my refusal to back down didn’t feel all that great to him either.

  “I promise, Mal.”

  To my surprise, he cupped my cheek and leaned forward to kiss me hard. I stared at him with wide eyes when he pulled back and he chuckled.

  “You’re so stubborn,” he murmured.

  “Not usually,” I disagreed.

  His eyes narrowed at me. “Really?”

  I realized that I was arguing with him again and sighed. “Fine, I’m stubborn. Clearly you don’t completely hate it since you just kissed me.”

  He smiled. “I guess not.”

  I stared at him. “I know you don’t like it, Mal, but I’m also not stupid. I don’t want to do anything to attract this guy’s attention. I already know what he’s capable of.”

  His hand moved from my cheek to the back of my neck and squeezed. “I know you’re not stupid, Zoe, but that doesn’t keep me from worrying about your safety.”

  “Well, I don’t think he’ll ever know if I do a little Googling on him.”

  “You’re right.” Mal’s cell phone rang. “Damn,” he cursed. “I better get that. I hung up on Larry.”

  “Larry?”

  “One of the guys who works for our agent.” He released me and got to his feet. “Be back in a few.”

  I watched him take the stairs at a quick pace, trying not to stare at his ass, but it was difficult. When he disappeared from view, I reopened my laptop and settled down for more research.

  Chapter

  There were more Victor Martin Kincade’s in Texas than I would have thought possible. The original article I found didn’t contain much information about him, so I had to start from scratch.

  I spent the next three hours trying to sift through all the men by that name, sorting them by age and place of birth.

  I’d narrowed my options down to ten by the time Mal stopped me for lunch. After Teri’s outburst, Mal refused to let me out of his sight again, moving his laptop and papers downstairs to the kitchen. From his chair at the kitchen table, he could see me perched on the couch with my laptop on my crossed legs.

  At noon, he made me take a break with him to eat leftovers. After we finished up, his phone chimed.

  Glancing at the screen, he stated, “Blaine is bringing Carissa and the witch back now. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  He helped me straighten up the kitchen and living room, tucking our laptops on the little shelf beneath my coffee table. I kept myself busy by making a pitcher of iced tea. Though it was nearly fall in other parts of the U.S., the temperatures in Texas remained high. The depths of Hell high. Iced tea was a necessity.

  A few minutes later, I heard the slam of car doors and footsteps on my front porch. Mal beat me to the door, shooting me a dirty look when my hand reached for the knob.

  “Someone wants to hurt you, Zoe. No damn way are you answering the door.”

  I lifted my hands in a gesture of surrender and backed away. I could easily forgive this aspect of his high-handedness since he had a valid point.

  He opened the door to reveal Jonelle standing there, her hand poised to knock.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked loudly.

  Jonelle brushed by Mal to enter the house, Stony hot on her heels with a dark scowl on his face.

  “You think I’m going to sit at home, twiddling my thumbs, while you try to figure out what kind of horror show is after you? No way,” she stated. “I’m here to help however I can, even if it’s just as moral support.”

  Though my heart swelled at her words, I also noticed the pallor of her face and the dark circles under her eyes. “You should have stayed home in bed,” I argued.

  Jonelle didn’t dignify my words with a response, merely lifting an eyebrow at me and crossing her arms over her chest.

  I knew from experience that I couldn’t argue with her when she got like this. There was no way to win.

  “She did the same thing to me,” Stony growled. “Said she’d just walk here if I took her car keys.”

  I laughed softly. “I know, Stony. She’s a pig-headed pain in the ass.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” she retorted, her body relaxing a little. “Now, where’s this medium or witch or whatever?” she asked.

  “They’re on their way,” Mal explained, shutting the front door and frowning at Jonelle.

  “Don’t you start too,” Jonelle demanded, staring at Mal with gimlet eyes.

  In his usual way, Mal seemed to read her intentions as easily as he did mine and didn’t bother.

  I watched with concern as Jonelle swayed slightly. Stony leapt forward and put an arm around her waist.

  “Dammit, Jo,” he grumbled, leading her toward the sofa. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  She waved him off as she sank onto the cushions and leaned her head against the back of the couch. “Quiet. It’s just that damn heat. Sucked it right outta me.”

  I went into the kitchen and poured her a glass of iced tea. When I returned to the living room to hand it to her, she smiled at me gratefully. “Thanks.”

  After drinking half a glass, her color returned and she looked much better. Setting the glass on a coaster on my coffee table, Jonelle looked to Stony. “See? All better.”

  Before he could growl at her, there was another knock on the door. This time when Mal opened it, Blaine and Carissa were there. As they entered the house, a tiny woman followed them inside. The top of her head barely reached Mal’s collarbone. She couldn’t have been much more than five feet tall.

  Carissa smiled at me as she approached, the woman hot on her heels and an unhappy expression on her face.

  “Good afternoon, Zoe,” Carissa greeted softly, holding out her hand to me.

  I shook it. “Hi, Carissa. I hope you rested well last night.”

  She nodded, her eyes flicking toward Jonelle who had risen from the couch to stand next to me.

  Catching the hint, I introduced them.

  After they shook hands and exchanged short pleasantries, Carissa gestured to the woman next to her. “This is Angela Stuart from the Fort Worth Coven. She’s agreed to help us.”

  Angela held out her hand to me. Her brown eyes seemed to shimmer and sparkle with unnatural brightness when they met mine, but I found the effect beautiful if unnerving. When I put my palm in hers, the skin of my hand began to tingle. Quickly the tingling intensified into a burn that traveled up my arm.

  I jerked my fingers away from hers. “What on earth?”

  Angela’s lips quirked. “Sorry about that. Happens sometimes when a witch meets someone who can match her abilities.”

  I stared at her in consternation.

  Jonelle’s shoulder brushed mine as she inched closer. “What in the hell did you do to Zoe?”

  Angela shook her head. “Nothing. It’s the power. It can be a bitch when it feels like it’s being tested.” She held out her hand to Jonelle. “Call me Angie.”

  Audrey had pounded good manners into Jonelle’s brain. I could tell she didn’t want to shake hands with the witch, but her hand extended anyway out of habit.

  A scant second later, Jonelle repeated my earlier action, jerking her hand away from the witch’s. “What the hell?” she asked loudly.

  Angie was completely unperturbed by Jonelle’s curse. Her head canted to the side as she studied
us, her brown eyes sparking and snapping with light. “Interesting,” she murmured.

  “I’ll show you interesting,” Jonelle grumbled beneath her breath.

  For the first time since she entered the house, the witch smiled and it completely changed her face. Before she was a striking woman, not beautiful or even pretty, but her features had a cast that made you feel as though you couldn’t look away from them.

  But when she smiled, she was breathtaking.

  I began to wonder if everyone Mal associated with was beautiful.

  “Sorry. It’s best if I get a quick idea of your abilities without warning you,” she apologized. This time it sounded sincere. “People tend to be easier to read if they’re not on edge.”

  “Was that a test?” Jonelle asked, her tone outraged.

  Angie nodded. “Yes, but I promise I won’t do anything like that again without your permission. I just wanted to get an idea of what I was working with.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “Though I thought Carissa said you were a medium.”

  I frowned at her in confusion. “I am.”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re not.”

  A tendril of anger unfurled within me. “Then what am I?” I prompted.

  The witch looked at me in disbelief. “You really don’t know?”

  “Know what?” I asked, the tendril of ire becoming a flame.

  “I don’t understand,” Angie muttered to herself. “It runs in families. Surely your parents or grandparents explained.”

  “Explained what?” My voice was rising from frustration.

  “That you’re a necromancer,” she finally answered.

  “Excuse me?”

  Twenty minutes later, I sat at my kitchen table with all my friends around me and stared at the witch, both skeptical and incredulous.

  “So you’re saying I can control the dead?” I asked.

  Angie nodded sharply. “Yes, but it’s more than that. A medium can speak, see, and interact with spirits, but you can do so much more than that. You have magic similar to a witch’s, but it’s centered on death. You can call to them, control them, and, if the legends are true, bring them back to life.”

  I gaped at her. “Bring the dead back to life?” I repeated.

  She shrugged. “There are legends about necromancers powerful enough to bring a person’s soul back into their body and make them live again. Honestly, I’ll have to do a lot more research. I’ve never met a necromancer before. Hell, according to witch lore, the last one died hundreds of years ago.”

  Jonelle patted my hand, sensing my inability to process all the information I’d just been given. “See, I told you that you were special.”

  Angie shot her a sharp look. “You knew?”

  Jonelle shook her head. “Nope, but it’s not everyday that you see zombies crawl out of their graves just because Zoe steps into a cemetery.”

  “Why haven’t I seen you at coven meetings before?” Angie asked Jonelle. “It’s not good for a witch to live without the support of a coven. It can make her weak.”

  It was Jonelle’s turn to gape at Angie. “Witch? Me?” she squeaked. “I think you’re mistaken.”

  Angie stared at her, her eyes shining even more brightly as they narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, witch.”

  “I’m not!” Jonelle cried. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  The tiny witch stood at the head of the table, a small breeze shifting through her long brown hair though the air around the rest of us was still. I felt tiny charges of electricity in the air, buzzing over my skin and making the hair on my arms stand on end. Her gaze remained intent on Jonelle, but slightly unfocused as if she were looking right through my best friend. It was eerily similar to the vague stare that Carissa had last night when she spoke to Teri.

  “You’re telling the truth,” Angie mumbled, the ends of her hair dancing in the wind that only seemed to surround her.

  “Yes,” Jonelle replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Finally, Angie blinked, breaking her thousand yard stare. “Well, then let me be the first to welcome you to the craft, sister.”

  Jonelle glared at her with suspicion and disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

  “As a summoning spell,” Angie retorted. “But that’s not the issue at hand. I’m here to help, Zoe. You and I can discuss this when that’s done.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jonelle scoffed under her breath.

  “We’ll see,” Angie shot back, her eyes losing some of their sheen.

  As I watched her, I realized that the unnatural gleam in her eye intensified whenever she used magic, that the buzzing electricity in the air had been her power.

  Turning her attention back to me, Angie stated, “Because you’re a necromancer, you’re naturally going to attract the dead to you. Ghosts, zombies, even ghouls and vampires, though they’re not technically dead.”

  “Vampires?” I asked faintly.

  She nodded. “They’re the undead, but they will feel your pull regardless because they aren’t fully alive.” She tilted her head to the side, looking like a small, brown bird with her dark eyes and hair. “I take it you’ve encountered ghouls before?”

  I nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

  “When they see her, they follow her around like puppy dogs,” Mal interjected for the first time since Angie started explaining what a necromancer was. “They’re instantly infatuated.”

  Angie studied me closely, if dispassionately. “Really? How interesting.”

  Beginning to feel a bit like a bug beneath a microscope, I fidgeted in my chair. “So, my being a…necromancer, is that why this thing is attacking me?” I asked.

  “It’s certainly possible,” Angie responded. “With your powers, it’s likely that it entered the portal to investigate you. Unfortunately, I won’t know without more research on necromancy.” She paused, glancing at Carissa. “However, based on what Carissa tells me, whatever is attacking you isn’t actually a spirit. It sounds more like a lower demonic being.”

  “A demon?”

  Both Carissa and I twisted our heads to look at Teri, who stood behind Blaine. Even Angie’s eyes moved toward her. It was the first time she appeared since our emotional conversation this morning. I was glad to see that she looked more like her usual self.

  “Yes,” Angie answered her. “It also explains why Zoe can’t control or fight it. Demonic entities aren’t technically dead. They’re living organisms, like parasites. They take a human host, using its body like a puppeteer to create mischief and mayhem. They can also take a non-corporeal form like a ghost, but without the death.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Blaine asked Angie, twisting to look over his shoulder.

  “The spirit standing behind you.”

  Blaine jumped. “What?”

  “It’s Teri,” I explained, feeling somewhat gratified when he relaxed.

  “Oh, okay. That’s cool.”

  His casual acceptance made me smile. It seemed the guys had finally grown accustomed to Teri’s presence in the house. Then my grin widened when Teri trailed a finger over his neck with a mischievous grin.

  Blaine shivered, crossing his arms over his chest, and glanced back toward her though he couldn’t see her. “Hey now! No touching. I still haven’t recovered from you grabbing my ass in the shower.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, including Teri.

  Mal got us back on point. “So what do we do about the demon?” he asked Angie.

  She reached into her pocket, removing a tarnished silver necklace. The links of the chain were heavier than a typical piece of jewelry, but the circular pendant that hung from it was gorgeous. Encrusted with opals and sapphires, it sparkled in the light of the kitchen.

  “First, you need to wear this at all times,” she explained to me. “It’s a powerful protection amulet.”

  I reached to take it when she held it out to me, glancing up at her when her hands stilled.

  “Don’t lose it under any cir
cumstances,” she instructed. “It’s very old and the amulet is extremely difficult to create.”

  I nodded gravely as my palm cupped the cool metal. As soon as my skin touched the silver, it hummed. That was the only description that fit. The precious metal vibrated against my hand and released a low, melodic hum. I glanced around but only Angie and I seemed to hear the sound.

  She met my eyes and nodded. “The amulet has accepted you. You will be protected…to a certain degree.”

  “A certain degree?” Mal asked, frowning.

  The witch didn’t take her eyes from mine as she answered. “There are some things it cannot protect her from, such as severe trauma, but it will deflect most non-corporeal beings and maybe even a flesh and blood one.”

  Mal didn’t look as though he wanted to accept the answer, but he didn’t speak again.

  “Now,” Angie began, “the good news is that we probably know what we are dealing with. That will make this easier. The bad news is that it will take me time to prepare to summon it.”

  “How much time?” Mal spoke the question aloud before I could.

  “A few days, maybe a week,” she answered.

  While I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, it was better than sitting on my hands, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Angie reached into her other pocket and pulled out a green bundle of dried herbs. “I’m going to smudge your house with sage before I go. It may not prevent another attack, but every little bit of magic can help until we summon the demon and banish it back to where it came from.”

  “Okay.”

  Carissa followed the witch when she left the kitchen, the two of them talking softly.

  I glanced at Jonelle, who was staring down at her hands with an apprehensive expression.

  “You okay?” I asked her.

  “Yeah,” she muttered. “Just wondering if the witch took too much peyote before she came.”

  “What?” I asked, cracking a smile.

  Jonelle looked at me, an odd light in her eyes. “Can you believe she thinks I’m a witch?”

  “Uh, well, I mean—”

  Jonelle waved a hand, cutting me off. “It’s okay. I don’t really believe it myself.”