One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress #6)(25)
“My instructions are from on high, for ‘thou shall not suffer a witch to live,’ ” Kramer thundered.
“ ‘You are not under the law, but grace. Judge not lest ye be judged. He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone,’ ” I shot back. “How come you didn’t pay attention to those instructions from on high, you filthy hypocrite?”
Surprise flickered across Kramer’s features, but my childhood had been spent in a household where church attendance and Bible reading were the norm, so I could trade Scripture quotes with him all day long. Then that surprise faded, and Kramer’s expression returned to its normal mask of vindictiveness.
Despite my determination to find a way to kick the Inquisitor’s ass, dread still slivered up my spine. I was stark naked in a small room with a powerful, pissed-off ghost who’d already brained me with a toilet fixture, and my only effective weapon against him was out of order. For the first time in my long history of life-and-death standoffs, I had no idea what to do next. All the battle training I’d worked so hard to master would do me no good under these circumstances. I couldn’t hurt what I couldn’t touch, and Kramer was no more solid than a dreaded memory. As if he could sense my uncertainty, the Inquisitor’s smile widened.
Hearing our hotel room door crash open almost made me sag in relief. Bones must have come back. Even though he couldn’t land a physical blow against Kramer, either, two against one odds would buy us some time to come up with a plan—
“You messed with the wrong white girl, motherf*cker!” Tyler shouted.
I don’t know who was more shocked, me or Kramer. The formerly timid medium appeared in the doorway, holding a smoking trash can with what looked like burning vines stuffed inside it. His gaze darted around the bathroom, seeking out the assailant he couldn’t see yet.
I had no idea what Tyler intended, but I was willing to help. “There!” I said, pointing at Kramer.
The ghost stared at Tyler, his head cocked, almost as if he were curious to see what the medium was up to. Tyler dug out a handful of those burning vines, cursing as they singed his fingers, and threw them in the direction I’d indicated.
Kramer screamed as soon as the first ones sailed through the space he occupied. His form dissolved, but a huge chunk of the countertop smashed off and hurtled toward Tyler. The medium ducked with a quickness I hadn’t expected of him, and the makeshift missile landed in the bathroom wall instead.
I didn’t know what was in that trash can. It wasn’t garlic and weed from the smell of it, but anything that hurt Kramer was something I wanted to utilize. I lunged forward, grabbing the smoldering vines off the bathroom floor, and threw them after the hazy outline of the ghost.
Kramer shrieked again as the vines passed through him. Whatever the stuff was, I loved it.
“Over here,” I urged Tyler, snatching up another handful. Tyler and I threw our burning bundles at the ghost like a couple of synchronized baseball pitchers. The edges of the smoking plants brushed Kramer before he could make himself poof out of the way. With a final, pained scream, the Inquisitor vanished from sight completely.
“Run, f*cker, run!” I shouted, so relieved we had something else to use as a weapon that I could’ve hugged Tyler until his ribs creaked. I didn’t do that, but I did give him a brief squeeze that nevertheless elicited an oof.
“Personal space,” Tyler chided, when I let him go. “And, you know, a towel would be the least you could put on.”
I burst out laughing. For years, I’d been discomfited by the blasé attitude most vampires had about nudity, and yet here I was, hugging someone I’d known less than two weeks while wearing nothing but some stray suds.
I covered myself with the closest item at hand, Bones’s leather jacket, which stuck to my wet skin. “Sorry. Kramer kind of interrupted my shower . . .”
My voice trailed off because Bones suddenly appeared in the room, silver knives in each hand and dark gaze raking over us.
“I heard you scream. What happened?”
Tyler still held the trash can, its smoldering contents filling the room with a slight haze. As if on cue, the fire alarm began blaring, and water shot out from the sprinklers on the wall. In the next room, Dexter started to whine in time with the whooping of the alarm.
“What happened is my borrowed powers are kaput, and Tyler’s really a badass in disguise,” I replied, nudging the medium. “Look at you, busting through that door to lay the smackdown on Kramer.”
Bones’s gaze raked over Tyler with a new appreciation. “Well done, mate.” Then he switched his knives to one hand and ran the other one over my neck. “You’ve blood on you. Are you all right?”
He knew that any wounds a vampire sustained would heal almost instantly, but his hand still traveled over me as if searching for injuries. Emotions tangled along my subconscious, flaring through his shields with their intensity. Concern, rage at my attack, and guilt that he hadn’t been here when it happened.
“Don’t,” I said, taking his hand. “How could we have known Kramer would find us here, or that Marie’s abilities would finally run their course?”
A little inner voice said I should have suspected that my borrowed powers were wearing off. For the past week, no new ghosts had found their way to me, but I’d figured all the time I spent in the cave around the limestone, quartz, and flowing water trap had possibly dulled my signal to the other side.