“Astrid!” I screamed. She was out cold. Dammit!
Messed up as it was, seeing her so peacefully sleeping made my eyes droop. Maybe I should close my eyes too. Something slammed against the side of my head. I careened to the right and only remained standing because I’d hit the edge of the kitchen table. It jabbed into the side of my hip. The pain shocked me alert.
My head cleared. I realised the hit hadn’t been physical. One of the ghouls was close to breaking through the circle. Once it did, the whole thing would crumble. I bit my tongue and tasted blood.
This place was tiny. So close to a cemetery it could potentially be a caretaker cottage or something of that ilk. I shuffled to the adjacent room. A bathroom. The mirror was shattered and there was a big brown stain on the floor. The other door led to a small bedroom with a single military-style cot. And look at that, another brown stain. More portraits of Astrid decorated the walls. Some of them were with her father. There was one with a very young Cassie and another with both Kai and Max.
It occurred to me this could be some bizzaro world manifestation of something inside Astrid’s mind. How the hell were we going to get out of this?
I tried to reach for the reserves of darker magic inside of me. Where there should have been a vast ocean, I saw only a wading pool. And with each breath, the pool contracted. The hedge magic was also teetering on the edge of exhaustion. In a last-ditch attempt at a Hail Mary, I tried to throw the hedge magic wider to see if I could connect to the trees in the cemetery. Nada. I got as far as the edge of my circle. When I touched the putrid skin of a ghoul, the magic died.
It sputtered when I tried to erect a smaller circle, but there wasn’t any juice left. The sound of glass smashing had me whining. I raced over to Astrid and placed myself in front of her. Some protector I was turning out to be. Think. Think. Think.
The stench of rotting flesh muddled my brain. The wooden door of the shack rattled for a beat before it was ripped from its hinges. Boom! The side of the house exploded in a shower of brick and mortar. It vomited dust onto the kitchen floor. Mist seeped in and smothered my scream. Ghouls landed with a thud. When I’d touched the ghoul with my magic, its skin had looked smooth but was rough like sandpaper. Up close they were just as robust as any shifter. Their heavy footsteps rattled the objects on the table to my left. Glass jars chimed as they hit each other.
That’s when I saw the bowl of salt. I shoved my fingers into the grains at the same time one of the ghouls lunged. It barrelled towards me in an inelegant waddle. I threw a handful of salt at it. Grabbing the bowl from the table, I sprinkled the rest in a crooked circle around Astrid and me. The ghoul bellowed its rage. Salt laced with the last vestiges of my magic burned its skin. Where the grains touched it, the glow of my magic flared.
My smugness lasted about two seconds. Though we were momentarily safe, we were also trapped inside a salt circle surrounded by ghouls.
The ghouls slashed their claws at the new circle. I winced as they scraped and stomped around us. The kitchen wasn’t big enough for them to manoeuvre without bumping into each other. When this happened, there was a frenzy of shoving and biting. I imagined if one of them went down, they wouldn’t hesitate to make use of the free feed.
Astrid didn’t stir. I pressed my palm to the pulse at her neck. It was barely detectable. If we were here any longer, she might not survive.
I glanced up at the ghoul in front of me who was pacing its small spot of floor. Survival wasn’t really an option. Tired of being patient, the ghoul drew its clawed hand into a fist and punched. My body jerked at the impact. Blue and black magic radiated from where its fist touched the barrier. The salt shifted under its feet. The protection was but a flimsy layer now. I swallowed hard. My hands were two clammy mitts. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.
There was no way out of this. I wanted to scream my frustration. The ghouls around me crouched. They lowered their bodies so that I was looking directly into their eyes. I closed mine. If they all came at me in unison, there was no way the circle would hold.
I wanted to pound my fist against the floor and wail. Inside this dimension or whatever it was, nothing could get to me. Even calling out to Azrael hadn’t worked. Surely if he’d heard me, he would have come at a time like this?
When nothing happened, I peeled my eyes open to find a dozen ghouls in suspended animation. They sat there like domesticated animals, their chests heaving, saliva dripping from their blackened mouths. A shadow appeared through the opening in the wall.
Half-undead monsters only feared one thing: their master. He was male judging by the breadth of his shoulders. He wore a cloak that resembled the seraphim fashion. Where his face should have been, there was only darkness and a swirl of aether. It was like there was nothing holding the hood of the cloak up.
“What the hell are you meant to be?” I snarled.
The ghouls parted for him to approach. I inched back a fraction only to run into Astrid. The man placed a palm gingerly against the circle’s barrier. The glow of my magic was faint. To be able to control the ghouls so completely, he had to be some kind of necromancer. His
