Belle swung her backpack off. “If you’re going to do this, I’ll set up a protection circle. If that blood does belong to a ghoul then it might still be nearby. I don’t want it catching us unawares.”
I waited as she set out her stones and then activated them. Once she was sitting comfortably on the other side of the stain, she dug her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll record what you’re seeing, but please remember to speak, otherwise Aiden will be annoyed.” She paused. “Or rather, more annoyed. You should have told him we were coming up here.”
“He’s not my keeper, Belle.”
“But he is a wolf, and they tend to get all territorial and protective over people they care about.”
I wrinkled my nose. “We’re in Marin territory—nothing untoward is going to happen to us here. Besides, I couldn’t have asked the questions I did if he’d been there.”
“Which doesn’t negate the fact that when it involves his sister—or anyone else in his pack, for that matter—you should have mentioned it. Ready?”
When I nodded, she hit the record button. I took a deep breath to center my energy and then carefully placed two fingers into the small, somewhat sticky pool. I didn’t have to reach for my psychometry abilities—they surged to life the minute I touched the blood, and filled my mind with sensations: hunger, frustration, pain, and anger. The latter was a fierce, deep burning. I pushed deeper into the wave of emotion, not only trying to catch some reason for the anger but also some sense of who and what we were actually dealing with.
“Lizzie,” Belle said softly. “Tell the recording what you’re seeing.”
“Old hurt,” I said with a frown. “Old anger.”
“Any reason why?”
“No.” I hesitated as the shadows within the blood shifted, revealing vague images. “It’s something to do with a wedding—and being betrayed.”
“Was she the bride?”
I pushed more energy into the connection, trying to deepen it. I might as well have tried to catch a wisp. “I think so.”
“What was she doing here? Why is there blood on the ground?”
More indeterminate images stirred. “She was splitting.”
“Splitting?”
I nodded. “It’s what I saw in the victim’s mind—she can sprout bat wings, and in taking flight, her torso tears away from the rest of her trunk and legs.”
“And this blood is the result of that?”
“Yes.”
I tried to catch more, but the images were now so vague—the pulse of darkness so faint—that there was little to see other than smoky wisps that held no form and made no sense. I withdrew my fingers and quickly wiped them clean on the dirt.
“So if she separated, where’s the body?” Belle said. “Even if foxes or other vermin had discovered it, surely there’d be remnants left.”
“Unless she’s also able to reattach. It’s possible if we’re dealing with something other than a ghoul.”
“Anything else to report?”
“No. But if we want to use the blood to trace this thing, I’d better preserve some pretty quickly. Its power is fading fast.”
I swung my pack around and pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag and a pocketknife. While I was also carrying my silver knife, using it would erase any lingering remnants of darkness within the blood.
I carefully cut out a good clump of soil that still held a sticky globule of blood and then carefully constructed a spell that would both contain and also ‘freeze’ the blood in its current state; hopefully that would make whatever impressions remained in the blood last until Monty got here. Once the threads of magic were tightly wound around the chunk of earth, I activated the spell and then carefully prodded it. The darkness that stirred lightly across my fingertips was no fainter than before. Hopefully, it would remain that way.
Belle deconstructed her protection circle, then we moved across to the small creek and perched on a couple of handy rocks. As the red-and-gold fingers of dawn faded and the day became brighter, the faint sound of approaching sirens ran across the silence, growing sharper before abruptly cutting off.
We heard Monty long before either man appeared—he was swearing like there was no tomorrow.
“He’s obviously having a lot of fun with the blackberry canes,” Belle said, amusement evident.
“Well, he’s broader than either of us, so he’s probably getting caught more often.”
“I’m not hearing Aiden complain.”
“No doubt because he’s in wolf form and can move through them easier.”
It was a guess that was proven correct a few minutes later as Aiden stepped into the clearing, his silver coat gleaming in the soft morning light now filtering through the trees. He glanced at the two of us—and even in wolf form, the gleam of annoyance in his blue eyes was very evident—then padded across to the bloodstain and sniffed it. His nose wrinkled in distaste, then light shimmered across his body, briefly concealing the change from wolf to human.
Before he could say anything, Monty all but erupted out of the blackberry cluster. His jacket was shredded and there were bloody scratches across his face and hands.
“Well, fuck, that’s an experience I’m not looking forward to repeating.” He plucked a short cane from his hair and flicked it away. “So, was the effort worth it? Did you get anything from reading the blood?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “The blood belongs to the ghoul, and the ghoul can sprout wings and tear itself in half.”
“Ha! Then I guessed right,” Monty said, delight evident.
“Care to share said guess with the rest of us?” Aiden said, voice dry.
“What we’re dealing with is a Manananggal, and it’s not really a ghoul. It’s more a vampire-like monster or witch who—depending on which myth you read—preys on either sleeping pregnant women or on newlyweds. The latter is apparently due to it being left at the altar.”
“So what happens to the lower part of its torso when it separates?” Aiden asked.
“It’s left standing wherever the
