Free Grave Matters: A Night Owls Novel by Lauren M. Roy Page B

him on the ground, maybe even have time to lodge the spike in his side. But Katya held up a hand, as much to tell Elly and Theo to hold as to show off her bracelet where the
Oisín
could see. Her laughter rang out over the fields. “Oh, please,
please
tell me your instincts are still so human that you’ve brought guns. Tell me, can you draw them faster than I can take them from you and shoot you myself? Have you etched little crosses on the bullets’ heads, too? We can find out if it works, if you’d like.”
    “It’s all right. Stand down.” Deirdre didn’t turn to her companions, keeping an eye on Katya.
Smart woman.
They obeyed her, but neither appeared happy about it. Deirdre didn’t seem very happy herself, but for other reasons. “Theo, I thought you said we could work this out.”
    He shook his head. “No. I told you I could ask for a meeting. I never promised anything beyond that.”
    “And here we are,” said Katya. “Meeting. I tell you now, we won’t split the city. If you’re very, very good, we will let you continue to live in it. That is where we start. Ivanov will have other requirements. Shall I do you the favor of returning to him with your grateful acquiescence?”
    Deirdre stared at Theo for a long moment. Her posture was rigid, angry. Her face, though, was soft with shock and betrayal. Theo looked away. Deirdre’s eyes hardened as she dismissed him. “Tell him we will split the city, one way or another. Tell him the Romanovs fell; so can he.”
    Katya’s smirk faded. “Run,” she said to Deirdre, all her mirth turned to fury. “Run now, or you’ll spend your millennia
crawling
.”
    They weren’t stupid enough to test her. All three turned and fled, speeding across the boulevard between the park and the beach, running along the sand until their silhouettes were lost against the dark Atlantic Ocean.

5
    S O FAR, NONE of the neighbors had commented about the odd hours Chaz came to the Clearwater house. It wasn’t like sorting through books made a lot of noise, except when he knocked over a precariously stacked pile and filled the air with profanity. But he did that quietly, at least, when it happened. Bad enough hearing your voice echo through an empty house in the wee hours. Worse when the house had been a murder scene barely a month past.
    Other people had the luxury of saying they didn’t believe in ghosts. Chaz knew better. His best friend was a vampire; he hung out regularly with succubi. You’re damned fucking right ghosts were real. His lone comfort, here in this home-turned-abattoir, had come from Cavale of all people. After a walk-through, one that involved smudge sticks and crystals and all sorts of occult ritual shit Chaz didn’t understand, Cavale had declared the house free and clear of lingering spirits. Which was good, since Chaz didn’t think Justin would take it too well if he bumped into his beloved old professor’s shade during a sorting session.
    Not that he would’ve blamed the kid.
    He only wished the crime scene cleaners had been able to do as thorough a job as Cavale. It wasn’t the police department’s job to clean up the aftermath of a murder. That responsibility lay with the homeowners, or in this case, their next of kin. Some of the cost was covered by insurance. The rest, Val had paid for out of Night Owls’ emergency fund when Helen’s family balked at the expense. Those services didn’t come cheap.
    They weren’t paid to make it look pretty, just to remove the biohazards. The crew had been respectful as hell—since they did the cleaning during daylight hours, it had fallen to Chaz to be there with them. He’d done his best to stay out of their way, sticking to the shambles of the Clearwaters’ downstairs while they worked up above.
    Elly had been there when it went down—she’d been the reason the Creeps came to Edgewood in the first place, chasing her and the book she’d stolen from them. The Clearwaters had given her sanctuary, and