Grave Danger Read online

  “Chas,” boomed the voice close to her head, nearly deafening her for a moment. “This is no time to be playing with the others. She’s just a girl.”

  Chas stopped short of his target, enraged that his brother had interfered. “She attacked me, you saw it.” His fists balled at his sides, he stalked forward. If Corrigan would only put her down, he’d have at her, take a piece of her precious soul for humiliating him.

  “And she was listening in on us. She’s a spy for them, I know it.” Chas tried to make a grab at Clarissa but Corrigan swiftly side-stepped out of his reach, taking his ghost hostage with him. He refused to put her down, knowing what his brother would do.

  “The ghost is not a spy for her people. She hasn’t even been dead long enough to know not to venture out after dark. She’s of no interest to us, brother.” Corrigan held the girl ghost in his arms, her body stiff as a post, her legs dangling high above the ground. He could tell she was new, fresh, her soul so bright and unblemished beneath her ghostly form that it made his insides twist up in painful knots. She made him want to hold her, keep her close and bath in the cool beauty of her spirit; lose himself in her goodness. He tightened his grip, not caring if he hurt her. She was a ghost, a spirit, and he hated her kind.

  “Let me just take a bite out of her, Corr.” Chas stalked them again.

  Corrigan backed away, moving out of reach of his brother as he came closer to them. “Go back to Helen, Chas.” He tried to reason with his brother, seeing the madness in his eyes and trying to think of a way to penetrate the man within. “You wouldn’t want to leave her all alone out there. If there are spies for the Eidolon, she shouldn’t be left by herself. Go,” he commanded, raising his voice. “We’ve already stirred up enough trouble as it is. If you attack one of their own, what do you think will happen? Who do you think they’ll punish? If not for yourself, then think of your mate. Go now and I’ll take care of this one.” Corrigan relayed a message to his sister that his brother needed her.

  Clarissa could hear once again the soft feminine voice of the other. Now she knew it was another flesh-eater. In her thoughts about the flesh-eaters, she hadn’t imagined a female version of the creature, nor one with such a beautiful voice. That just didn’t coincide with the image she had painted of the evil creatures.

  Clarissa watched as the face of the darkly handsome flesh-eater softened, a secret smile tugging at the perfect bow of his now closed mouth. With it closed she could almost believe he was human again; almost. Then the smile was gone and his mouth drew down in snarl, directed at her. “Thank my wife, ghost girl, because she just saved your soul.” He was off in the next instant, turning away swiftly and bounding down the street in a fast paced run. Clarissa couldn’t get over how quickly they moved on two feet. She would have thought they would need at least four to run that fast. Perhaps all flesh-eaters were like Olympic sprinters.

  Clarissa was left alone with the brother of this creature, one she had yet to see. He kept her suspended in the air for several more seconds, the sound of his deep breathing close to her ear. It was warm along her cooler skin, the breath belying the cold death that was hidden in his form. He tightened his grip yet again against her, too tight that she almost felt like he was trying to absorb her body into his own. Then just as suddenly he dropped her back onto her feet.

  Clarissa teetered on her feet as she found herself unceremoniously dropped back down to earth. The brother was certainly a rather impressively tall creature. It didn’t bode well for her to stick around and find out if he was as handsomely attractive as his brother. Clarissa had had enough interaction with the creatures to satisfy her curiosity for awhile. Finding her equilibrium, she moved to put distance between herself and the creature.

  Corrigan become aware of the ghost woman distancing herself from him, but before she could get far, he grabbed her arm, spinning her around and holding her in place. Until now he hadn’t had the leisure to get a good look at her. She was of average height for a woman of this time period, but with a curving body instead of the angular ones he had seen so often of late. Her hair was a dark mahogany that in the light would show shades of gold and red. But it was her eyes that bespoke of the beauty of her inner self; in her eyes her soul was revealed. Hers were quite exquisite, the blue of her irises pale on the interior with a cobalt ring that gave her eyes an otherworldly charm to them. Her skin, like most of her kind, was cool and pale in the moonlight, a radiant glow running under the surface. It made her eyes and hair stand out in contrast to the silky glow of her ghostly form.

  Clarissa found herself gazing up into the face of some fallen deity. His skin was slightly tanned, a golden glow that radiated over his skin like heated magick. A dark lock of his raven colored hair fell over his forehead to caress his skin and give him a rakish look. The flesh-eaters form was perfectly formed like his brothers, a body of a beast and not a simply man. The sculpted mouth and jaw held no show of warmth and in his iridescent blue eyes she saw nothing but empty death. If the eyes were the windows into the soul, his revealed nothing.

  “Let go of me,” Clarissa commanded of him. “I’ve had my fill of being manhandled, thank you. Now let go.” Her voice held the note of authority and showed nothing of fear.

  “You would be well advised not to find yourself outside alone at night again,” Corrigan answered, still keeping a firm hold on her arm. “Leave now before I change my mind and decide to take a bite out of your soul as my brother had wanted to do.” He released her arm, giving her a slight shove, pushing her away from him.

  “He’s not your real brother is he?” Clarissa asked. “You two look nothing alike.” She should leave, he had given her the opening she needed and she could simply shift the atmosphere and be in the security of her own home in seconds.

  Clarissa knew that that security would only be an illusion; the citizens of this city were never fully safe from these others. And if she fled now, after having waited so long to confront them, it would show deep cowardliness on her part. But she knew the dangers in trying to converse with these beasts. It was like being in the wilds of Africa trying to infiltrate and study a pride of lions; at any moment he could change his mind and charge for her. She took another step back, but then held herself still, needing resolution to the questions that had burned in her brain since coming to this old city.

  Corrigan was slightly taken back when he realized she wasn’t leaving. Instead of disappearing as he assumed she would when he let go of her, in a strange turnabout she remained standing a few feet away and dared to speak to him in a calm and reasoning voice.

  “He is my brother and it is no concern of yours in any case,” he responded tersely.

  “I see,” she said. Clarissa tilted her head slightly to the left, studying him. “Is it the nature of the flesh-eater to be hostile or is just in your nature? I thought Richard was the only man who could be so dreadfully anti-social and petulant.”

  This little slip of a ghost had the audacity to critic his character and those of his family. Didn’t she know that he could take the very last breath of life out of her, consume her soul in an instant and then there would be nothing left of her? She was either more than slightly demented, Corrigan thought, or she lacked any self-preservation. He should just get it over with and end her existence, save her people the trouble of doing it themselves. If she was foolish enough to break the rules of her people then she didn’t deserve to exist in this world.

  Corrigan strode forward, his mouth slightly parted. Her soul was running like a liquid current under her form, bright and enticing him. She didn’t back up again as he drew closer to her. He didn’t expect that. She should have at least had the decency to look frightened.

  “Don’t come any closer,” she commanded him, using a voice he had yet to hear from her. It was a voice of compulsion, one that he had not heard in over a hundred years. And as he knew it would, it stopped him dead in his tracks. He growled deeply in his throat like the caged animal he knew she was turning him into.
“I have just a few questions to ask of you, if you don’t mind.”

  Clarissa was more than surprised to see he had listened to her. But somehow, she couldn’t guess why, it looked like he hadn’t wanted to. It was like she had forced him to stop his advances, overriding his own wants like a command of compulsion. It didn’t make sense. He looked like he wanted to rip her head off, yet he remained immobile.

  “Stop growling,” she commanded again. He was silenced immediately. His eyes flamed to life, the iridescent coloring glowing like a blue flame in the face of a beautifully enraged angel. For a moment, it was a heady euphoric feeling of power that flowed over Clarissa’s form, but she suppressed it quickly. Even if he was an animal, there was something inside her that made her reluctant to want to control him. She knew she should. He was a beast, a monster, and she hated his kind.

  “What questions would that be?” he bit out. “If I may be permitted to speak, mistress, I would not want to offend you.” His sarcasm dripped like icy shards of glass from his tightlipped mouth.

  Mistress, Clarissa thought. What did he mean by that? He was a flesh-eater and as far as any of them knew had no one to control his behavior. It seemed he believed that she was such a person to control him and he obviously wasn’t pleased about that; not that she could blame him. But only a death bokor could control the dead. Clarissa wasn’t a bokor, was she?

  “Mistress,” Clarissa heard his deep voice calling her. She had been lost in her own thoughts for several seconds and at first hadn’t heard him. “There are only a few hours of darkness left. Ask your questions so that I may return to the island.”

  Clarissa nodded her head in agreement, clearing her mind so she could focus. Clearing her throat, she continued to observe him. So he must obey her commands, she thought. If she was indeed a death bokor, which she was still finding hard to believe, then he could not hurt her. She was his mistress, he said, like a servant to his master; she had authority over his actions.

  But she wondered if she had complete control over him. Could he lie to her? Clarissa might control his body, but was there a part of him that could not be touched, a part of his being that was entirely his own?

  No person should be at the complete mercy of another.

  Clarissa had to remind herself that he was not a person, he was a flesh-eater and he had killed the friends and loved ones of her communities’ associates. An attack on the S.S. was like an attack on the Eidolon people.

  “What do you mean by calling me mistress?”

  Corrigan frowned in agitation. He didn’t think he could have hated this young woman more than he already did, but he could. Before she had only been a foolish ghost caught in the dark, unprotected. Now, he had the misfortune of finding out that she had been a bokor in life and had not released her hold on her powers even after her death.

  “You are a bokor, mistress.” Corrigan said solemnly, though he wanted to ring her neck from her shoulders. She shouldn’t have been able to control him, not even as a ghost. But he knew that not only was she a bokor, she was a death bokor, a more deadly order that had the ability to control and exterminate the underworld creatures of this world.

  “There is no sense in that kind of formality. I don’t want to be your mistress anyway. I just want to know why you and your family have broken the treaty.”

  “You’re misinformed, mistress. No one has broken the contract with the Eidolon.”

  Clarissa raised her eyebrows at him. “Can you lie to me, if you wanted to? And stop calling me mistress. You make me feel like some kind of slave owner.”

  She was and he was the slave. Corrigan folded his own arms over his massive chest, looking down at her. “Yes, I can lie unless you specifically told me not to, then no. But in this case I am not lying. My family and I have never broken any rules your people have set out, not that they have the power to stop us if we wanted to change that.”

  “Except me,” Clarissa pointed out.

  That fire was back in his eyes. “Yes, except you…” he paused before continuing. The degradation had been branded into his psyche for so long, he didn’t know he was reverting back to what he had been; until her. But he wasn’t that man anymore and she wasn’t his mistress. “Except you – whatever your name is – you can control us. A fact of which, you are already aware of by now.”

  “Clarissa,” Clarissa said. “My name is Clarissa Schofield. And I take it you have a full name as well. What is it?” She wondered if by having a name to go with the figure, it would make him seem more human. He looked so human it was difficult to remind herself of the soulless beast that lived inside of him.

  Corrigan didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t compelled him into a response, simply asked the question like a normal human being. But Clarissa was anything but a normal human. “Corrigan LeMoyne,” he said, hiding his accent from her. Only when he communicated as he did with his family did anyone hear the true sound of his voice.

  Clarissa had heard his voice before when he had been conversing with his family. It was different than the one he used out loud and with her. That one was harsher, less human than his inner dialogue. Corrigan was an Irish name, and his inner accent had a beautiful lilt to it. But he chose to speak with an American accent. She told herself she didn’t want him to speak to her in that deep brogue voice of his, but even telling herself that, she knew it wasn’t true.

  “I’m a death bokor, then.” He nodded in assent.

  “Someone has broken the rules here.” If he was to be believed, then neither he nor his family had broken contract, but she didn’t quite believe him. “Several members of the Spectral Services, the friends and associates of the Eidolon community have been murdered. Are you aware of that?”

  He shook his head in the affirmative. Clarissa continued. “Their attacks are similar to those made by the flesh-eaters, like you and your family. As far as you are aware, are you and your family the only ones of your kind in the area?”

  “Yes,” he said his voice angry and hostile.

  Clarissa gave him a peeved stare. “Then, doesn’t it seem logical that it was either you or one of your family members who attacked our people?”

  “If they were out when they should not have been, then it’s their own damn fault for dying. It has been this way for many years and your people have to follow to the treaty as well, though it seems most don’t.” He eyed her with a vicious stare. “If a few of your associates get caught because of their own foolishness, it’s not our fault.”

  “So you admit to breaking the treaty and attacking our associates then.” Clarissa made a step forward, closing in on him. Leah had told her that no S.S. would be caught out in the night by one of these beasts. Someone was lying here. She voiced her thoughts aloud. “None of the people killed by these attacks would have been caught outside during your roaming time. That means you or your family members have been crossing lines and venturing into our homes and businesses for your kills.”

  He growled at her in that animalistic tone. “The last place I would want to be is in your spooks hang outs and neither I nor my family would target anyone inside their homes. We abide by the rules, no questions asked. So either you’ve been given a false story on these deaths or someone else has it in for your community. I for one don’t give a damn either way.”

  Clarissa looked up at him trying to see through the barrier into the man underneath, but she couldn’t. He was unbreakable; nothing could cut through that hard exterior. Perhaps there was nothing inside that form except emptiness. Then again, something about him didn’t add up. For a man who seemed to hate her so much, he had saved her from certain extinction. His brother would have devoured her without pause, but he had stopped him, his own brother.

  “I don’t believe you’re as callous as you would like me to believe. You might growl and bark like an animal, but you aren’t a beast.” Clarissa found it strange that she was voicing these thoughts, but even as she said them she knew it was true. Yes, the beast did take hold of him, but n
ot completely. Somewhere, in some small corner of his being was his humanity.

  “You know nothing about me and for all you know I could have killed your little servants while they were sleeping in their beds. I am a monster, a flesh-eater, death and murder are all I know and you would be wise not to push me. You might be a death bokor, but you’re untrained. Even you can be taken down at some point.”

  Clarissa took another step forward in a stand of defiance against his words. “Again,” she said with a note of humor in her voice, “I don’t believe you. If that were true, you would have given me over to your brother instead of protecting me from him. That doesn’t sound like a monster.”

  He stepped forward as well, the flame of madness in his iridescent blue eyes. “I should have let him tear your soul to shreds when I had the chance. You’re like a damn thorn in my side and I know if I try to pull you out, I’ll just bleed out and expire. But then at least I’d be rid of you. A permanent death would be better than dealing with you for the rest of this existence and I have a sick feeling you aren’t going to give me a moment of peace.”

  “That is likely very true,” she answered him, grinning now. He was all bluster and bark and she realized that even though she was a bokor, he could harm her if he wanted to. She sobered a little. He was still a flesh-eater, she reminded herself. And even if he had saved her from his brother’s attack, he and his kind was still responsible for committing untold numbers of deaths in the last century. “I will bring absolution to the deaths of these poor souls. And when I find out who is responsible I will make sure they pay with their own lives.”

  Her meaning was clear to Corrigan. Clarissa would stop at nothing to nail his family as the culprits of these murders. And quite frankly he couldn’t deny the possibility that he or one of his brothers or sisters had accidentally targeted an S.S. follower. But it wouldn’t be their fault if they had. They knew the rules. You wouldn’t condemn a crocodile for behaving in what was in its world, natural. His kind had not asked to be the creatures they were, but neither could they rebuff the fact that in order for them to live someone had to die.