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"Tell no one. Show no one," she insisted and tucked it under his shirt. "Only trust the guardians."
Before Vanth could ask who the guardians were, the front door burst open, and Eiline's face went blank, like she had pulled into some part of herself no one could reach. All the hair on the back of Vanth's neck stood on end. He hugged his mother to him.
"I promise, Mama. I love you," he repeated, hoping some part of her would understand.
"Everything okay, Vanth?" Clara asked, coming into the room.
Eiline's fingers gripped the back of his shirt before letting him go.
"It is now. Mom just…had a moment," he said.
Eiline stared at a corner in the room, showing no sign that she knew either of them were there.
"I'll come visit again soon," Vanth said and kissed his mother's cheek.
"We'll take good care of her until then," Clara assured him. "I'll just get you a cup of water, Eiline, and you can have a lie-down."
In the kitchen, Vanth took out his wallet and grabbed a handful of euros. "She likes to paint after an episode. Can you buy her some more supplies? And maybe a new soft blanket of some kind. She likes soft things when she's…"
Clara took the money and squeezed his hand. "I know, Vanth. She's going to be okay. You know this is just how it goes some days."
"I know. I just want her to have whatever she needs," he said, his voice cracking. He cleared it roughly. "I've got to go. Can you message me an update later?"
"I will. Get some sleep. You look like hell," Clara said, teasing him lightly.
Vanth laughed even though it hurt. "Yeah, it's been a long night."
Vanth said his goodbyes and hurried down the small roads leading back to the gates. The guards let him through, and it wasn't until he was back in his van that he let out a shuddery, gasping sob. He swallowed down all his anger and helplessness and the wounded child in him who only wanted his mother.
The body in the back groaned, and Vanth pulled himself together and drove home, more confused by the night's events than ever.
4
Vanth had bought the old funeral home with the first wad of cash that had been stuffed into his hand from cleaning up a particularly messy vampire dispute. It had taken time to outfit it with all the requirements he wanted, and he saw it as a creative work in progress that he changed to suit his needs.
One of his favorite features was a pit that was set up in the old morgue area. It had a charmed iron door that not even the most pissed-off ghoul could smash its way through. The pit was used for feeding, and despite it having an earthen floor, he knew there were no bones buried there. Ghouls were thorough that way.
Vanth looked down at the naked, paralyzed man, his eyes full of emotion. It wasn't fear but fury.
"I know you're mad that you lost, but I wasn't about to let a piece of shit like you keep preying on kids. I don't need you scared. I don't get off on terror. It's enough for me to know that you'll be dead and your soul sent on to whatever hell you deserve," Vanth told him. He pulled out his dagger and the magic holding the man's blood in started to pool up. Vanth gave him a hard shove with his boot, and the man rolled over the lip ofthe trap door and into the pit. His two ghouls leaped in after the body and began to circle.
"Enjoy dinner, kids!" Vanth said cheerily and slammed down the iron lid. He whistled as he bolted it shut and headed upstairs. His day might have ended in a weird, worrying jumble, but at least he had done his good deed for the day by taking out a predator.
Vanth went upstairs and grabbed some beers from the kitchen before going out onto the rooftop garden. The ghouls had been tending and watering all his plants out there too. An uneasy feeling lodged in his ribs.
Vanth loved spooky shit, but there was a bit too much weird happening, and he was starting to think it could all be related. He sipped on one of the beers and sat down on a sunbed, the umbrella above him ensuring his skin didn't burn up. After a shitty, long night, sitting out with his plants helped.
After a few minutes of calming down, Vanth pulled out the necklace his mother had given him. It was of simple make. Onyx and silver. There were no mystical glyphs or scratchings that you usually found with spelled jewelry.
Vanth lay back on the sunbed and tried to think about what his mother had said. She had the gift of foresight, so when she had an episode, it was worth paying attention to.
The guardians are dead. The Veil is unprotected, and they are trying to tear through it. The blood of the guardians sacrificed to help them accomplish what they tried seventy-seven years ago. Only wards made by love hold them back…
The Veil was a mystical boundary that separated the living from the dead, but who the fuck were the guardians? The Veil was just…the Veil. It didn't have people protecting it. Did it? As a necromancer, Vanth frequently flouted the laws of the living and the dead. There were theories that necromancers drew powerfrom the Veil itself. If there was some kind of 'Veil police,' they would have tried to arrest his ass years ago.
Vanth wasn't so much worried about guardians, especially if they were all sacrificed, but he was concerned with whatever or whoever was trying to 'tear through.' Nothing good could come of that. Vanth's mind snagged on 'guardians sacrificed' again and almost dropped his beer. He pulled out his phone and looked at the bodies that had turned up in Andres's crematorium.
"Sacrificial magic," he whispered. It could just be a coincidence, but then Eiline had been looking at the pictures when her visions had been triggered.
