One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress #6)(51)

“Kitty,” I urged Bones, still pinned too tightly to the wall to get him myself.

Bones didn’t move, but he stared at the carrier, his aura sparking like he’d just set off invisible fireworks. The carrier slid across the wall, pushing past the wood and glass in its path, until it was close enough for Bones to hook his foot around it and tuck it under the shelter of our legs.

I didn’t have time to admire the use of his power before pounding began on the apartment door, followed by a woman’s voice yelling, “This is too much, Francine. I’m calling the police this time!” Then Elisabeth burst through one of the walls, Fabian following closely behind her.

“Kramer,” she shouted. “Where are you, schmutz?”

Air swirled in tight circles near the kitchen, growing darker, until the tall, thin form of the Inquisitor appeared.

“Here, hure,” he hissed at her.

I was shocked when Elisabeth flew toward Kramer and started swinging. Unlike what happened when Bones or I attempted that, her blows didn’t harmlessly go through him. The Inquisitor’s head snapped to the side at the haymaker punch she landed. Then he was almost brought to his knees by the merciless kick she smashed into his groin. Kramer couldn’t be harmed by anyone with flesh, but clearly that same rule didn’t apply when it came to another noncorporeal being whaling on him.

Throughout all this, the woman—Francine?—seemed to be lost in her own private hell, murmuring, “No, no, no,” in an endless, ragged litany. Over Bones’s shoulder, I saw that Kramer had started to turn the tables on Elisabeth. He landed a vicious kick to her midsection that made her double over. Fabian jumped on the Inquisitor’s back, kicking and punching, but Kramer grabbed him and flung him off so effortlessly, Fabian disappeared through the apartment wall. Guess ghosts were similar to vampires, with age accounting for greater strength. Elisabeth and Kramer were nearly the same in spectral years; but Fabian was much younger, and from the looks of it, not nearly a match for the Inquisitor.

“We need to leave,” Bones said low. “Now, while he’s distracted.”

Then Bones turned his head, shouting, “Charles, to the house!” loud enough to make my eardrums vibrate.

But seeing Elisabeth getting the crap kicked out of her made me hesitate when Bones tightened his arms around us with obvious intent. Elisabeth’s gaze locked with mine for a split second. Then she threw her arms around Kramer, bear-hugging him despite the brutal pounding she received to her midsection in return. Fabian flitted around, desperately trying to intervene, only to be swatted aside like a fly.

I got her message, grabbing Helsing’s carrier and whispering, “Now!” to Bones.

The front door opened the instant we reached it, allowing us to exit without ripping a hole in the wall. I hadn’t opened it. I had one arm around his neck and the other gripping the cat carrier. Bones’s hands were likewise full, supporting me and the woman while he blasted us away faster than I could’ve flown. We must have been only a dark blur to the neighbor in the outdoor hallway, on her cell phone describing the noises in the woman’s apartment to the police, it sounded like.

Then we were well past the building, giving me only a moment to note that Spade’s car and the one we’d driven in were no longer in the parking lot before we were too high for me to make out the different vehicles. Now there was even less chance for Kramer to follow us. From how Bones seemed to have loaded up his jets, we only needed another minute or two more before the ghost wouldn’t be able to discern in which direction we’d flown away.

The downside was that this had shaken the woman out of her trancelike state. She screamed as fast as she could draw breath, but with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, I couldn’t green-eye her into a more calm state of mind.

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” I shouted to no effect. Either she didn’t hear me above the whooshing of wind from Bones’s speed, or she strongly disagreed. With everything that had happened to her, I couldn’t blame her. When we got back to the apartment, I promised myself, I’d give her a tall glass of whatever liquor she wanted. On second thought, make that the whole bottle.

Yet even then, it wouldn’t be enough to couch the devastating news I’d have to deliver: that the nightmare she’d experienced wasn’t going to end unless we caught Kramer, and she’d be part of the lure we would use to attempt that.

Francine sat on the couch, a glass candle filled with smoldering sage in one hand and a mostly empty bottle of red wine in the other. The bottle had been full when I began to explain about Kramer, the other women who were even now going through what she’d experienced, and the part about Bones and me being vampires. Flying Francine out of her apartment kinda let on that we weren’t human, so there was no sense in trying to keep that secret while telling her everything else. Spade, Denise, and my mother got here about an hour after we did, but so Francine didn’t feel like she was being ganged up on, only Bones, I, and Tyler were with her at first. Everyone else was in their respective town houses.

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the suggestion Bones had planted earlier in her mind that she could trust us, but Francine was a lot calmer than I expected her to be at these revelations. It was possible she was in shock, and most of what I said didn’t register to her, but her thoughts weren’t in line with that. She had a few token moments of “vampires don’t exist” and “this can’t be happening,” but overall she seemed to accept that what we were telling her was true. Three weeks of being tormented by an invisible entity had evidently disabused her of the idea that the paranormal didn’t exist.