Page 56 of No Surrender
Simon woke with what he considered a “magic hangover.” There was nothing magical about his pounding head, dry mouth, and queasy stomach, but he recognized the aftereffects of pushing his gift too hard and depleting his energy.
If he had realized how powerful Thompson’s ghost was, he would have brought backup, either Gabriella or Alicia Peters—one of his cousin Cassidy’s friends who was a skilled medium. Simon didn’t know if that would have been permitted since it was police business, but it was worth exploring the possibility for next time.There’s bound to be a next time.
Simon rolled over and raised himself enough to swallow the pills Vic left for him and gulp down water. He ate the candy bar slowly, feeling the sugar hit his system. His phone on the nightstand buzzed, and he reached out blindly to grab it.
When he saw Travis’s name, he thumbed the call open. “Hey. What do you have for me?”
“You sound awful.” Travis didn’t mince words. “Vic said you’d had a rough go of things.”
“I went nine rounds with Eliot Thompson’s ghost. Then I heard the stories of the victims and helped them pass over.”
“By yourself?”
“Vic and Ross were with me and a bunch of cops.”
“You know what I meant,” Travis growled. “You should have had psychic backup.”
“It’s harder when it’s police business. More hoops to jump through,” Simon replied.
“That’s not going to make Vic feel any better when you get seriously hurt.When—not if,” Travis chided.
“I know. Let’s figure that out another day,” Simon replied. “On the bright side, you were right about the binding sigils.”
“Teag did some digging on Bert Judd and called Vic with what he learned,” Travis said. “He’ll keep looking. Nothing gets past him.”
“Did you find anything about whatever’s causing the nightmares?”
“From everything you told me and what’s in the lore, I’m certain your suspicion is right that it’s a boo hag—a form of Alp. That’s a spirit that feeds on fear and sucks the life essence from its victims by agitating them into terrifying dreams. At its worst, this goes beyond nightmares to sleep paralysis and full sensory terrors,” Travis told him.
“When that happens, the victim is immobilized—trapped in their own mind with the monster—which creates a horrifying fantasy that’s impossible to break free from,” Travis added. “They’re pinned, unable to move or fight, while the creature drains them, and they live out their greatest fears.”
“Can someone control an Alp or a boo hag?”
“Not that I’ve seen in the lore. These are powerful, ancient creatures,” Travis warned. “Before we became ‘civilized,’ they were one of the things we told stories about around a campfire.”
“So they find victims on their own?”
“They’re attracted to turmoil,” Travis replied. “Like moths to a flame. If their victim is already upset, it makes the target more susceptible. And with everything that’s going on where you are, you’ve got a lot of people who are ripe for the picking.”
“How do we get the boo hag to go away?”
“I’m not sure,” Travis admitted. “Short of mass therapy.”
“Not likely any time soon.”
“Then your best bet is iron and silver. You can’t kill a boo hag, but you can weaken it enough to trap and relocate it,” Travis said. “The eighties killer’s case is solved. The Slitter trial won’t last forever. Once things calm down, the hag will be less likely to return.”
“There will always be something,” Simon replied. “Do boo hags kill?”
“That’s a matter of debate,” Travis admitted. “The lore contradicts itself. My personal opinion is that the hag doesn’t mean to kill because that cuts off a good food source. But like a parasite that’s too aggressive, it can weaken a person to the point of collapse or organ failure—or torment them to suicide.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Simon growled. He laid the phone on his pillow and flung an arm across his eyes, wishing that the ibuprofen would kick in faster.
“One other thing—I think it’s likely that the form of Alp is a boo hag because you’re in the Lowcountry, and they’re part of the local legends. Creatures tend to have a home territory,” Travis told him.
“If I can weaken it, would a powerful root woman be able to trap and relocate it?”
“Miss Eppie? Yes. There’s a long tradition of using hoodoo to run off the hags. The monster is local, so the counter-magic is local, too,” Travis said.
