Grim Tempest Read online

Page 12


  “I know everything,” he said, his tone low and ominous.

  “Oh, geez.” I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll. “This guy is all pomp and circumstance and no substance. We should look elsewhere.”

  “I’m open to suggestions.” Redmond took the seat next to me, shooting Zake Zezo a look that warned, “If you touch my sister I’ll strangle you with you with your own robes” before continuing. “Madame Maxine said he might have answers for us. We have nowhere else to look.”

  Sadly, I knew he was right. “Fine.” I licked my lips. “What can you tell us about the evil storms?”

  “What can you tell us about the evil storms?” Zake Zezo mimicked my voice to perfection. It was both annoying and eerie.

  “I believe that’s the question I want answered,” I pressed. “We need to know about them. If you have information, we would greatly appreciate you sharing it with us.”

  “I have information. But I’m not in the habit of sharing.”

  Redmond and I exchanged weighted looks. Ultimately my brother sighed and dug in his wallet, coming back with a hundred-dollar bill and dropping it on the middle of the table. “What do you know?”

  Zake Zezo ignored the bill and instead grabbed a vial of purple powder. “I know a great many things about a great many people. I know all and see all.”

  “I think this is like when I dressed up as a fortune teller for Halloween that year and offered to tell fortunes for twenty bucks,” I whispered to Redmond. “I used that line then.”

  Redmond snickered as Zake Zezo scowled.

  “What?” Redmond challenged. “We’re here for answers and you’re spouting lines from fortune cookies. I don’t know how this is supposed to go down, but we’re genuinely at a loss.”

  “I believe that’s your normal mental state, isn’t it?”

  Under normal circumstances I would’ve been fine with a random shaman insulting my brother. These were not normal circumstances. “Hey, Mr. Oblivious, we’re not here to fool around.” I smacked the table for emphasis. “We have questions and we were led to believe you have answers. You need to talk.”

  Zake Zezo’s eyes – an odd shade of gray that I’d never seen outside of a Crayola box – glittered with amusement. “And what happens if I don’t? Will you have your brother harm me?”

  “No. I’ll start singing.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

  “You have no idea,” Redmond muttered. “She’s completely tone deaf and prefers eighties head-banging songs when she’s worked herself up to start torturing people.”

  “Do you want me to talk dirty to you?” I challenged.

  “I have no idea what that means, but I find you absolutely delightful.” Zake Zezo clapped his hands, which were covered in the purple powder, and when he lowered them I realized the dust left behind was magically forming a shape in the gloom.

  “What is that?” I asked, confused.

  Redmond put his arm around my back, his fierce protective manner on full display. I felt his muscles coil in case we needed to flee. “That looks like … .”

  “A storm,” Zake Zezo finished. “It is a storm. It’s the storm that’s been raging in this area for months.”

  “We think the storms have only been a factor for the past three days or so,” I argued.

  “You’re being too literal,” Zake Zezo chided. “I’m talking about the storm that has been raging in the mind of a single person. That person is responsible for everything that has been happening here for almost a year now.”

  I had trouble wrapping my head around what he was saying. “What do you mean? I … what other things?”

  “The dead rose from their graves, did they not?”

  I balked. “That was Madame Dauphine. She did the voodoo thing because she was crazy and wanted to distract us. She was going after reapers specifically.”

  “Yes, you’re the one who caught and ended her, if I’m not mistaken,” he said. “Once you had your answers you didn’t look further to see if there were more questions to tackle.”

  Zake Zezo’s roundabout way of talking was beginning to grate … and fast. “So you’re saying someone else was behind the zombies.”

  “I’m saying someone has had a hand in everything that has touched your life for almost a year.” Zake Zezo poured water into an ornate bowl at the center of the table and lowered the tip of his index finger into it, causing a series of ripples to disturb the calm water. “Even little things can cause big disturbances.”

  “So you’re saying that someone else was involved with the zombies,” Redmond surmised. “Why, though? To what end?”

  “I can’t see the thoughts of this individual. I cannot see a face or even thoughts. I can see the ripples, though, and the ripples all originate from the same place. The ripples have been caused by someone – or some thing – that wants to upend your lives.”

  Redmond furrowed his brow. “Us specifically?”

  “Your family. You’re at the center of it all.”

  “All of what?” I asked. “You mentioned the zombies and said there were other things, but what other things?”

  “Wraiths. Gargoyles. Zombies. Mirror monsters. Someone alive who should be dead. They’re not all separate from one another. They’re connected.”

  “By one person?”

  Zake Zezo nodded, the muted light gleaming off the top of his bald head. “Who do you know who has been involved in all these things, even if only tangentially?”

  There was one easy answer, but I was uncomfortable giving it voice. Thankfully Redmond, much like the rest of the family, often spoke before thinking.

  “Mom.”

  I pressed my lips together and studied Redmond’s face for hints to what he was feeling.

  “He has to be talking about Mom,” Redmond supplied. “There’s no other explanation. Mom is alive but should be dead.”

  I had trouble arguing with the sentiment, but I didn’t want to send Redmond off on a tangent so I remained calm. “Or maybe someone above Mom who brought her back,” I suggested.

  “Do you think?” Redmond looked so hopeful it almost crushed my heart.

  “Mom didn’t have the power to save herself,” I reminded him, licking my lips. “Genevieve Toth saved her. She was the one with the power. Maybe there’s someone else from that little coven pulling the strings. We can’t possibly know everyone who is involved because we stopped looking once Genevieve died.”

  “Killed,” Zake Zezo corrected. “She was killed, and I believe you did the deed.” His eyes were like lasers when they grabbed my gaze. “Did you feel a shift when she died?”

  “I … what?”

  “A shift,” he repeated. “No one enters or leaves this plane of existence without disturbing the atmosphere. Given who she was, the nature of her power, Genevieve would’ve left a very obvious wake when she was ripped from this plane. What did you feel?”

  I had no idea how to answer the question. “Nothing. I didn’t feel anything.”

  “Nothing?” Zake Zezo cocked a dubious sparkplug eyebrow. “You must have felt something?”

  I searched my memory of the event but it felt as if it happened so long ago that it was more an echo than a firm vision. “I didn’t really think about it at the time. She was evil and trying to kill me so that was it. Everyone rolled in at the same time to fight. I’ve never given it much thought.”

  “Is that important?” Redmond asked. “Could it be possible that Genevieve didn’t really die that night? I mean … maybe she faked her death or something. Maybe she’s been laying low. If you believe Aisling should’ve felt something, but she didn’t, maybe the obvious answer is because Genevieve didn’t die.”

  “I can’t rule that out, of course, but I’m not sure that’s what I’m feeling,” Zake Zezo said. “In truth, the energy I feel is decidedly female. I have no idea who it belongs to. That is the person you’re looking for. She’s responsible for everything … including the storms you worry
so much about.”

  “Will the storms keep rolling?” Redmond asked. “Are they done?”

  “They won’t be done until you stop them.” Zake Zezo pinned me with a pointed look. “You have to stop them.”

  I balked. “Me personally?”

  “Your family.”

  “Why us?” Redmond challenged. “Why does it always have to be us?”

  “Because the person doing all of this is fixated on your family, and most especially your sister,” Zake Zezo replied. “This woman believes your sister is the key to getting whatever she wants. Now, whether that’s true or simply an errant belief really doesn’t matter.

  “You’ve been marked by this woman as important, and that means you’ll have to be the one to end things when it’s time,” he continued, adopting a gentle expression as he looked at me with something that could only be described as pity. “You’re at the center of all of this, for better or for worse. Only one of you can survive the ultimate battle.”

  “Oh, geez.” I dropped my forehead into my hands. “He just gave me the Harry Potter prophecy. I’m totally going to die now.”

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Redmond warned, extending a finger. “You’re not going to die.” He shifted a dark glare to Zake Zezo. “Don’t tell her things like that. She takes things to heart and is a born exaggerator. She’ll make a mess of things if you tell her stuff like that.”

  Zake Zezo was quiet for a full ten seconds before speaking again, his gaze like an anvil on my chest as he looked me up and down. “She will be fine.” He smacked the table with his hands and stood, grabbing his money from the center before making small shooing motions with his hands. “It is time for you to go.”

  “Are the spirits telling you that?” I asked dryly. “Do you have a life to save?”

  “No. The Talk starts in ten minutes and I don’t want to miss it. They’re talking about the mystique of the female orgasm, and that is definitely must-see viewing.”

  “Oh, well, whatever floats your boat.”

  REDMOND AND I didn’t speak again until we were in his truck and headed down the freeway exit ramp toward Royal Oak. The fifteen-minute drive served as something of a catharsis for both of us, although I could tell what was bothering him before he even opened his mouth.

  “It’s probably not Mom,” I offered automatically, the need to soothe him coming out of nowhere. “She wouldn’t be able to pull it off, especially because she’s been with us during some of the attacks.”

  “You’re right.” Redmond let loose a shaky breath. “You’re absolutely right. She helped us fight off the zombies.”

  “And the mirror man,” I reminded him. “It’s probably not her.”

  “What about Genevieve?” Redmond asked, navigating his truck toward Royal Oak’s busy main drag. “Do you think she could’ve survived?”

  “I don’t see how. She looked deader than dead to me at the end.”

  “That’s true. If not her, who?”

  “I’ve been giving it some thought.” I tapped my fingers on my knee as Redmond stopped at an intersection. Traffic was practically murder this time of day and it would take us three changes to get through one light. It was ridiculous. “I think we have to be missing a player.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that I think Genevieve was working with someone else from the beginning and we simply didn’t realize it. Believing Genevieve somehow staved off death and managed to recover is a stretch. Mom has been helping us, so believing it’s her is also a stretch.

  “While I’m not willing to rule either of them out because that would be stupid and I’m far from stupid, I think that we should follow that adage Dad always used to throw at us,” I continued. “The simplest answer, however ridiculous, is almost always the correct answer. That means there’s another person involved we somehow missed.”

  “But who?” Redmond edged forward in the traffic and sighed when the light turned red again. “I hate this light.”

  “Join the club. As for who might be involved, I don’t know. Maybe we should have Cillian pull Genevieve’s records again. We could’ve easily missed something because we were fixated on her.”

  “That’s a really good idea. In fact … .” Redmond trailed off and when I shifted my eyes to see what he was looking at I found Angelina in the crosswalk in front of us. She had her mother with her. The woman was so frail and bent I almost didn’t recognize her. “Is that … ?”

  “Carol Davenport,” I answered automatically. “I heard she was sick, but I hadn’t seen her in a long time.”

  “She looks as if she’s already dead.”

  That was a sobering thought. “Yeah. I hate Angelina, but I can’t help but feel a little sorry for her.”

  Redmond’s eyes lit with mirth. “And why is that?”

  “Because she’s alone and dealing with the pending death of her only remaining parent. I can’t imagine going through something like that without someone to prop me up.”

  “You won’t have to.” Redmond patted my hand, cringing when Angelina tried to get her mother to pick up the pace. “I think she’s having issues.”

  “I know. I … .” The first drop of rain splattering against the windshield caused my heart to constrict. “Oh, no.”

  “Crap!” Redmond glanced over his shoulder, perhaps looking to see if he could find a parking spot. A rumble of thunder followed the first splash of rain, and I knew things were about to get bad. “What do we do?”

  I didn’t have an answer so I went with my instincts. “Park,” I ordered, opening the door. “I’ll help Angelina get her mother inside. We’ll carry her if we have to.”

  Redmond was dumbfounded. “You can’t go out in this. What if you’re not immune?”

  “I have to try.” I was firm. “If something happens, tell Griffin I’m sorry.”

  “Aisling, I can’t be the only one who thinks it’s a bad idea for you and Angelina to be stuck in the murder-inducing rain together, can I?”

  It was a fair question. “I can take her.”

  “Son of a … !” Redmond swore under his breath. “Let me help you. You can’t do it alone.”

  “I don’t have a choice. We have to get Carol inside or she could be really hurt. As for Angelina … I’ve taken her before. It will be okay.”

  “I wish I could believe you,” Redmond growled.

  I didn’t give him a chance to continue, instead slamming the door and jogging across the pavement. “Angelina?” So far the rain was only coming down in tiny intermittent droplets.

  Angelina looked stunned by my arrival. “What do you want? We’re doing the best that we can,” she snarled. “Don’t you say one word to me.”

  I held up my hands in a placating manner. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. It’s going to storm.” I pointed at the black clouds for emphasis. “I’m going to help you get your mother inside.”

  “I don’t want your help,” Carol barked. “I know who you are. I’d recognize those demon eyes of yours anywhere.”

  I ignored the insult. “Let’s get her inside,” I suggested. “The faster we get her out of the rain, the better.” I grabbed Carol’s arm to offer her support. “In fact, if you want to lift your legs I think we can carry you faster.”

  Carol shot me a “not in this lifetime” expression that would’ve made me laugh under different circumstances. “I don’t want to be carried. I can walk.”

  “She wants to keep her independence,” Angelina explained. “I never would’ve taken her out today if I thought it was going to storm. It wasn’t supposed to storm.”

  “Yeah, well, the weather has been ridiculously unpredictable. “Come on, Mrs. Davenport.” I tried to force the older woman to walk faster, something she didn’t take well.

  “Stop rushing me,” she snapped. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

  Unfortunately that wasn’t the case right now. “There’s a coffee shop right there.” I pointed. “I’ll buy you whatever you want if y
ou let us carry you.”

  “So you can poison me?” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re not in prison yet.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I … .” The words died on my lips when the rain picked up and started coming down in a steady sheet. Panic licked at my innards, and I flicked a gaze to Angelina, my heart twisting when I saw her lips curve down. “Oh, crap! This is about to get bad.”

  13

  Thirteen

  “You’re making her move too fast,” Angelina complained.

  “You’re not moving fast enough,” I shot back.

  “I will rip your hair out if you don’t get your hands off me, Aisling Grimlock,” Carol barked.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I shook my head as I grabbed Carol around the waist and tried to lift her. She was tiny, sickness eating away at her, but the position was awkward and I had trouble hurrying her toward the curb. “Just think of me as your taxi.”

  The rain intensified as a bolt of lightning flashed. It was almost immediately followed by a terrifying rumble of thunder. I was almost out of time. That is, if it wasn’t too late already.

  “Angelina, I know this is going to sound weird, but I need you to go inside the coffee shop and leave your mother to me.” The words sounded ridiculous, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  Angelina lifted her eyebrows. “Excuse me? You expect me to leave my mother with you. Why would I possibly do that?”

  “Because I need it to happen,” I gritted out. “The rain is … dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? Is it going to cause you to melt or something? I can see that happening because you’re a total witch.”

  “Just … go inside!” I practically exploded.

  “You go inside,” Angelina snapped. “She’s my mother. She doesn’t even like you.”

  “I really don’t,” Carol agreed. “You’ve been an intolerable snipe since you were five years old. Your father spoiled you to the point where absolutely no one could stand you, which allowed you to be a bully. You absolutely terrorized my poor Angelina.”

  I thought I might tilt to the side I rolled my eyes so hard. “What have you been telling her, Angelina?” We reached the curb, where it took me two tries to lift Carol to the sidewalk. “You were the bully, and you know it. I was a freaking angel compared to you.”

 

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