Black Mountain Magic (Kentucky Haints #1) Read online

  “A late lunch,” she said. “He probably knows a lot about Wolvites. He’s dealt with them his entire life. I can pick his brain.”

  Holden glanced up from his project. The prize Deacon had given them lay cut open on the table.

  Lorena had seen a Wolvite dissected before. Stretched out like this one, sliced open groin to neck, with its black slimy guts on display. They were twisted creatures with gangly, sinewy limbs like a human, but overgrown feet and hands like a great wolf. They could walk on two legs and had an overall uncanny human demeanor despite their appearance. Holden had tilted the thing’s head back, and its snout was full of yellowed, razor-sharp teeth.

  “You could bring him here and interview him.” Holden worked with his scalpel to remove a piece of the esophagus. “We could interview all of them.”

  The creature’s innards were arranged much like a human’s, but the digestive system worked more like a carnivorous animal. Holden had first cut apart the stomach. That was also the first thing they’d cut open on the last Wolvite. What they found inside the engorged pouch that day still haunted her memories. She tried to push the vision out of her head. She was a scientist. This was her work.

  “You know what we have to do next.” She leaned on the table with both hands. “We have to go into the woods and actually look for their lairs. See if the signs are there.”

  Holden continued with his precise cut. Gooey, thick, nearly black blood coated his gloves. “Unless we find what we’re looking for in this one.”

  “We still have to go out there. Deacon probably knows where the lairs are. It’d make things a lot easier.”

  Holden looked up, the overhead light flashing on his glasses.

  “And what will you tell him?” The mask moved as Holden spoke. “Are you going to tell him the real reason we’re dragging our feet instead of getting an extermination squad in here?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. “He doesn’t have to know anything. I’ll just see what he knows about them. I think I can get more out of him by myself, too. He doesn’t seem to like you. He’s more likely to tell me things if you’re not around.”

  Holden grunted. “He certainly likes you, doesn’t he?”

  “So why not use that to our advantage?”

  “Taking one for the team.” He dropped the scalpel on the table and stood upright. “Very noble.”

  “I’ll take notes, and even record our conversation. It’s an interview, nothing more.”

  “I need to report what we’ve found so far.” He peeled his gloves off. “Shall I tell headquarters you’re off gathering information from the locals?”

  “Tell them whatever you like.” She walked to the basement stairs and untied her mask. “I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

  “It’s three o’clock now,” Holden called after her as she started up the stairs. “It gets dark early this time of year.”

  She wadded the mask up in her hand, but didn’t breathe again until she got to the kitchen and closed the basement door behind her.

  She opted for the nicest pair of jeans she had with her and a red cable knit sweater, which was a little more form-fitting. She yanked her boots on and strapped her gun holster across her hips. She had every permit she needed, but Kentucky allowed open carry even without a license. Half the people she met wore a gun.

  She pulled her hair up, then took it back down, then pulled it up again. Not a date. She didn’t need to look perfect.

  Without saying goodbye to Holden, she left in the truck, in which she also had a shotgun. The house sat three miles outside of Blue Ditch, the only way back and forth a dirt road that wound through dense forest. Though it was the middle of the day, bright and unwelcoming to Wolvites, she didn’t take any chances.

  The narrow road, flanked by tall trees painted in brilliant October colors, created a scenic tunnel. The canopy of branches flashed red and orange and yellow through the sunroof. She hadn’t been outside a city in years. She’d spent some of her childhood in a place like Blue Ditch, in the open majesty of nature, and it still sung to her. The tranquility and remoteness touched an unnamable place deep inside her soul.

  Blue Ditch was as quaint and rural as anyone would imagine a small Appalachian town. Log cabins and small farms sat at the outskirts, and in the town itself, the houses were lined up on clean, quiet streets, with neat patches of idyllic green lawns in front. Despite a splash of modern life—gas stations, chain stores, and a few fast food joints—a sense of old-timey tradition colored everything. Black Mountain rose in the distance like a slumbering tree-covered giant and loomed above all, protecting the town from the outside world.

  She pulled into the parking lot of the little diner called Pam’s, where Zeke had apparently leaked the story of their ambush that morning. Deacon’s truck sat near the front door. She parked next to it.

  She checked herself in the rearview mirror, and then reminded herself once again this wasn’t a date. She climbed out.

  Deacon sat in a booth not far from the door. He waved to her when she stepped in and stood up. He wore a pale blue and hunter green flannel shirt. She slid in the booth across from him and he sat back down. He took up nearly all the space in the opposite seat. She staunchly ignored how blue his eyes were in the fading afternoon light that shone through the window.

  “You must be that government woman,” a waitress said, as she stopped at the table to pour Lorena a cup of coffee. “Ain’t no one else around here lookin’ like you.” She swept Lorena with a chilly gaze.

  “No, there ain’t,” Deacon said. “Much obliged, Mary Ellen.”

  Mary Ellen left a menu for her. Lorena pulled some things out of her satchel: a notebook, and a small black voice recorder.

  “Sure is early for dinner.” Deacon smiled. “You afeared of being out after dark?”

  “I’d be a hypocrite if I disobeyed the rule I’m trying to enforce.”

  “I’m glad you came, though. I knew I’d drag you out of that house one way or another.”

  She patted the notebook. “This is an interview.”

  “I see.”

  She dropped a pen on top the notebook. “Do you mind if I record this conversation? It’s easier than writing everything down.”

  “I ain’t gonna sing for you, at least not here.”

  She tilted her head. “I’m going to ask you about yourself, first. Then we’ll move on to what you know about Wolvites.”

  “Hold on, now.” He tapped the menu in front of her. “Why don’t you get something to eat first? You ain’t hungry?”

  “I’ll order something in a bit. Coffee is good for now. If you’re hungry, please.” She gestured at the menu.

  “I thought we were having dinner. Lunch. Whatever this is.”

  “We’re having an interview.” She picked up her coffee cup. “I’m here to learn about the Wolvites and do my job, not fraternize.”

  He folded his gigantic arms on the table. She briefly met his eyes as she sipped from her cup.

  “All right then,” he said. “I’m gonna make you a deal.”

  She lowered the cup.

  “I’ll tell you about me, then you tell me about you.”

  “I’m not that interesting.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He sat back. “I wanna know all about you.”

  She set the cup down. “I don’t believe that has any bearing on my work.”

  “I’ll tell you about me.” He nodded at the recorder. “Then you tell me about you. Or I ain’t telling you about Wolvites.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Fine.” She grabbed up the recorder. “I do hope you realize if you make my work difficult, I can have you detained for this same questioning. I’m really much more pleasant to talk to than my superiors. Not to mention they’d make you fill out tons of paperwork.”

  He laughed. “Threatening me with paperwork. I reckon you think I’m a hillbilly who can’t read and write.”

  “I never said that. I wasn’t implying—�
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  He held up a hand. “I’m messin’ with you, calm down.”

  She slumped in the seat and tried to mask her irritation.

  “I’ll tell you what you wanna know, if you do the same for me.” He picked up the menu. “But let’s get us a piece first, no sense chewing this over on an empty stomach.”

  They ordered a simple appetizer and the food arrived fast, as they were the only ones there. Coffee didn’t go well with mozzarella sticks and French fries, so Lorena asked for water as well. She munched on a cheese stick and waited, recorder on, for Deacon to start talking.

  He seemed to get a kick out of stalling, so she prompted him. “Have you lived here all your life?”

  “Born and bred.” An easy smile played on his lips. “Well, not exactly born. I was born in a hospital in Harlan, but my Mama and Daddy lived here. They raised me up in Blue Ditch.”

  “You’ve never left here?” She resisted snatching up another cheese stick. One had awoken her hunger.

  “I been other places.” He grabbed one up and took a bite. He chewed before he spoke again, ever the gentleman. “I been outta Blue Ditch, even outta Kentucky, but this is my home.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-six. Pushin’ thirty, nearly over the hill.” He winked.

  “I’m a year older than you, so let’s not go there. I take it you’re not married?” She pretended to check the recorder. “Any kids?”

  “Nope, much discomfiting to my Grammy. How about you?”

  “It’s not my turn yet.”

  “My cousins are both married, so she reckons it’s my turn. Jack just recently got married. I thought he was gonna hold out with me, but he met a girl from Tennessee.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “Little bit of everything. Do a lot of fixing things for folks, handyman stuff. I work on cars. I help out on farms. There’s always moonshining too, if the work drops off.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was joking.

  “Grammy ain’t happy about that, either. She wants me to pick a career and stick to it.”

  Mary Ellen appeared and refilled their coffee. Lorena snatched up another cheese stick.

  “So you come from a long line of Lycans?”

  “Goes back as far as I know.” He wrapped his big hands around his coffee cup and engulfed it. “My Grandpa, and his Grandpa, and so on. Sure you know how it is, though. It gets watered down across the years. My ancestor’s blood was purer than mine. They could even shift. That’s what they say, anyhow.”

  “Some researchers think Lycans and Wolvites have a common ancestor, that’s why you’re immune to their venom.”

  He shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  “Some think the Wolvites are Lycans that either mutated or never had human forms to begin with. But it’s hard to know for sure, there’s no records that go back that far.”

  “Around these parts, they say they were Lycans who stayed shifted too long, and didn’t wanna come back to being human. They sorta cursed themselves.”

  “There’s no evidence for that, though.” She drummed her nails on the tabletop. “So your family has protected Blue Ditch for generations?”

  “There’s always been nasty critters and haints roaming these mountains. Our family took on the job because we could. It’s a thankless job these days, mind. Because of you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

  “Your agency. People put more faith in you these days. Seem to think us tromping around in the woods with shotguns ain’t that bright or necessary. Never mind we’re stopping Wolvites from eating up their animals and kids.”

  She struggled for a diplomatic response. Honestly, she understood both sides of the argument, even from her well-defined position.

  “Maybe they’re just concerned for your safety. We’ve effectively taken care of several heavy Wolvite infestations in the past. We have the manpower and weaponry to do it, not to mention the legal go-ahead. You’re working in a gray area, you and your cousins. You could technically be arrested for what you’re doing.”

  “So why ain’t we never been arrested? We been doing this the whole time your agency’s been in business.”

  “Because it’s not necessary. Only if you start getting in our way will it become an issue.”

  “When I was a boy,” he lowered his voice, “we had a mess of Wolvites around here, come swarming out of the woods like jarflies. Your agency didn’t show up to take care of it for a good week. You know who kept them beasts outta town during that time? My Daddy and uncles.”

  “I understand.”

  “And this new threat has been going on for weeks again. We been holding them off. And you ain’t even here to take care of them now, you’re just here to count them. Meanwhile, what? We let ‘em overrun us?”

  She chose her words carefully. “You have to understand, this is not the only place in the country where there’s an issue with a supernatural threat. We can only do so much, and we’re a government agency, there’s a lot of procedure and policy. I think you might appreciate the fact you’re not at the top of the list because apparently they knew all along people like you are taking care of things until they get here.”

  He scoffed. “You sure do a lot of double-talking. One minute you’re telling me we ought to stand down, and the next we’re doing you a favor.”

  “I don’t write the rules. There’s some I wish I could change. I like to think we do some good, though.”

  He took a drink of his coffee and set the cup down hard. “Let’s talk about you now. It’s your go.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “We keep talking about this, we’re gonna argue, and I’m gonna leave. We don’t see eye-to-eye on it.”

  She hesitated, and switched off the recorder. “I was born in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I lived outside of it as a kid, out in the country with my Mom and Grandma, my mother’s mother. Grandma owned an old farmhouse. We didn’t have animals or anything, she just liked living in the country. She was a witch too. She loved nature. She said it made her stronger.”

  His demeanor softened. “My Grammy says the same thing. Says the roots of the mountains give her power.”

  “I liked it there. We all three lived there until I was ten.” An unspoken question shone in his eyes and she answered it. “My father died when I was a baby. I never knew him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I don’t know much about him. I’ve seen pictures. He was a railroad worker and he died in some accident before I was a year old. We moved to Chicago when I was ten.”

  “How come?”

  “My mother got a job there. My grandmother was too on in years to take care of herself and the farm, so she came with us. She never did adapt to the city, though. She was never quite the same. She passed when I was thirteen. Like I said, it’s not a very interesting story. I grew up in Chicago, went to school there, went to college. Joined the agency. I was always interested in the supernatural.”

  “Because of your power?”

  “I guess.” She fidgeted with her pen. “My mother wasn’t a witch and I didn’t have any guidance in that area after my grandmother died. I can do some things, if I’m really concentrating, but I can’t control it. I don’t know much about the potions and herbs side of it, apart from what I had to learn in class. I’m a lame witch.” She smiled half-heartedly.

  “Do you wanna learn?”

  “I don’t know, it’s a lot of information I’d have to absorb. I mean, absorb personally. I know technical stuff, but it’s different to practice it.”

  “Has your Mama got any of your Grandmama’s old stuff? Maybe she could give it to you.”

  She tensed. Of course, they had to eventually come to the main reason she didn’t want to talk about herself.

  “My mother is dead.”

  His face sagged. “I’m sorry. Do you…mind if I ask how?”

  She did mind. But maybe if she told him, he’d understand.


  “She was killed by a Wolvite.”

  He stared at her. She looked down at her notebook and picked at the spirals along the spine, trying to push the tension in her body out through her fingertips. He must assume her life was a hotbed of tragedy.

  “In Chicago?” He sounded skeptical.

  “No. She was on a camping trip with her coworkers, down in southern Illinois. They were attacked during the night.”

  “Oh, wow.” His tone turned genuinely dismayed. “That’s terrible, I’m sorry.”

  “She wasn’t killed outright, just bitten, and they brought her back to Chicago. She lasted two days in intensive care. Two really awful days.”

  “There ain’t no way to make it comfortable, is there?”

  She shook her head. “I was still in training at the agency. One of the other campers, he shot the Wolvite that bit her, so my agency claimed the body. They thought it would be educational, and therapeutic, if I sat in on the autopsy.”

  He winced. “I take it, it wasn’t?”

  “I thought it might be. She’d died twelve hours before and I didn’t know what else to do. I hadn’t slept in a day and I was just in this fog.” She gazed across the diner. “It wasn’t any more intelligent than a dog, and it was dead. Cutting it up wasn’t exactly punishment. I didn’t feel anything.”

  She did feel something, though: a deep and lingering horror she couldn’t express. Her mother’s flesh was still in its stomach. Nothing distinct, the thing had taken a chunk out of her upper thigh, but that bloody, yellow lump was her mother’s skin and fat and muscle. She saw it in her head for weeks, every time she closed her eyes.

  “I was more determined than ever to finish my training,” she said. “I wanted to make sure it didn’t happen to other people. That’s why I’m with the agency, even if I don’t always agree with the things they do. To help people.”

  He was silent a moment. “I’ve seen people die from the bite too, and be killed outright by them. My family was affected by them, when I was younger. That’s why I do what I do, too. Same reason as you. I’m on your team.”

  She forced a little smile. “Thank you.”

  They gazed at each other.

  She cleared her throat. “We’re still working on a vaccine.”