Page 85 of The Vampire and the Case of the Baleful Banshee

‘She’s going for the gems.’ The problem was that we didn’t know where they were. Wintersteen had the advantage but she would probably have to lower the wards; that was the only thing that might save our bacon.

We checked out the lower floor of the house. It had two storeys and vaulted ceilings. The kitchen wasn’t completely open-plan – there was a low wall and a pillar to one side – but it gave access to the living room, which was dark and unoccupied. There were stairs to the right of us, and a hallway to the left with a couple of doors.

Fluffy looked pointedly at the stairs, bounded up a couple of them and looked back at us. As we followed him, I drew my gun; I wouldn’t underestimate Wintersteen again. The house was unnaturally quiet. Where was the rest of her family, her husband and her other kids? Was she holding them hostage or were they potential combatants?

When we reached the top landing, Fluffy slowed down and slunk along the wall to the last door on the left. I went past the door and stood on the far side of it as Gunnar tried the handle. It was locked.

Just before he was about to do his thing, I heard the distinct sound of a pump shotgun.

Chapter 54

‘Down!’ I barked in warning.

Gunnar flung himself out of the way as the gun went off. When he stood up, he was visibly annoyed – and a pissed-off Gunnar was a dangerous Gunnar. Wintersteen had made a grave mistake.

The shot hadn’t even penetrated the door. ‘Birdshot,’ my boss mouthed at me. He’d taught me that you could load a shotgun with different types of bullets commonly known as birdshot, buckshot and slugs. Birdshot was made up of small pellets – but it was still lethal at close range. If we could get some distance between the gun and ourselves, we’d be in with a fighting chance.

‘Drop the gun,’ Gunnar growled through the door.

‘We’re taking the gems and leaving, Nomo. Don’t get in the way.’ It wasn’t Elsa’s voice, it was her husband’s: Larry Wintersteen. But no matter how confident his words, his voice was tremulous, scared. Was he scared of us, the gems, or his wife?

‘Don’t listen to the gems,’ I said urgently. ‘They’re cursed. They have their own agenda.’ I heard Elsa’s derisive snort, the sound of scrambling and the shotgun being pumped again.

‘We’re coming out,’ Larry called. ‘Don’t get in our way. We don’t want to have to kill you.’

Gunnar scrambled to my side. ‘Think you can fling a fireball?’ he whispered.

‘You bet,’ I whispered back. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘Sort of.’ He leaned down to whisper to Fluffy. My boy got up and ran down the stairs.

Footsteps approached the doorway. Gunnar mouthed at me, ‘Hit her with a fireball on my signal.’

I nodded and started to gather my fire magic in my centre. The sullen teenage boy walked out first, then his seventeen-year-old sister. She looked scared; she’d wrapped her arms tightly around herself and she was sobbing as she ran down the stairs. Larry came out next holding the shotgun, sweating. His hands were shaking as he passed me. We let him go; our focus was on Elsa.

She stepped out holding the red fire gem in one hand and the clear diamond wind stone in the other. Both pulsed with a dark inner light. Her face was a twisted mask and her hair floated around her head, reminding me eerily of Aoife.

‘We will be free.’ The discordant voice that came from her mouth was trifold, as though her voice were overlaid by that of the two sentient gems. It was eerie and wrong.

I licked my dry lips. ‘We both know we can’t let you go, but maybe we can work something out.’

Her black eyes snapped to mine. ‘We will not listen to our enslavers.’

‘I never enslaved you! I don’t believe in supporting slavery in any form. I recently found out that you were sentient.’ My voice was impassioned despite myself. ‘Let me help you.’

I wasn’t lying; I did want to help the banshees locked inside the stone. I honestly believed that their captivity was wrong, even if it was currently saving our skins. There had to be another way to power the barrier, a way that didn’t torment lost souls.

The voices were silent for a few beats. ‘We no longer trust humans.’

‘I’m not a human,’ I pointed out. ‘I’m a vampire.’

This time they shouted at us. ‘We will not listen! It is too late for talking! The time has come for action.’

I didn’t want action. Elsa had blown out my flames like the birthday girl at a party, but I had to try again. I stoked the flames again and felt my fire magic build, then I gathered it, waited for her to pass and threw the flame at her unguarded back. It wasn’t my finest moment but the fate of Portlock rested on us stopping her.

My flames dissipated before they reached her, snuffed out because of some sort of shield of air. Bugger.

She turned, black eyes raging, a ball of flame building around her right hand, the one holding the fire gem. Wind swirled around the hall and the pictures on the walls tilted and fell to the ground. She let the fire go and it twisted, building into a fiery funnel that was heading right for us.

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