Pretty sure I'm a few days late... Sorry.
Okay, first, I want to thank all those who reviewed, faved and followed this story. I just realized I have over one hundred faves, which is great! Frankly, I never thought I'd pass that mark :)
And then, of course, there's FateMagician, my BetaReader, whom I can never thank enough. Still, I'll try to.
A little something I forgot to specify in the previous chapter: if you want to get an idea of what Enola's voice sounds like when she sings, listen to Video Games by Lana Del Rey. I just… think it suits her. Her personality.
The title might be a little reference to Supernatural... Or not. I read that, in Buddhist tradition, salt repels evil spirits and Shinto religion uses it to purify an area. Judeo-Christian tradition holds it as a purifier. It was also used in exorcism by various Christian Churches.
Anyway, I'll let you enjoy this chapter, now.
Enola was sipping on a blood bag she had just pulled from her small cooler when Gin Wigmore's Black Sheep rose from her handbag, which was slumped on the dinner table. She rummaged in her bag with one hand, removing the straw from her mouth only when she picked up her phone.
"Hey Abbie!" she greeted cheerfully. "What's up?"
"Enola, are you still at school?"
The vampire frowned. Her friend's tone was clearly urgent and she could hear the rumbling of her car's engine.
"No, I'm at Willow Point estate, why? What's going on? Do you want me to join you somewhere ?"
"No, stay where you are. Something's coming for Katrina, the ghost of a woman Ichabod was promised to," the police lieutenant explained hastily. "She's, uh… rather jealous, and she knows Ichabod is married to Katrina."
"Great," Enola mumbled. "No rest for the wicked, huh? What does she look like?"
"A weeping woman dressed in black and soaked through. She drowns her victims."
"Got it. I'll keep an eye on–"
The vampire broke off when her superior sense of hearing caught a strange sound over the crackling of the fire in the nearby living room—something like… sobs, but muffled, as if coming through a large amount of… water?
"She's here," Enola blurted out.
Without waiting for Abbie's answer, she hung up the phone and threw it on the table along with her half-full blood bag before flitting towards Katrina's bedroom. She skidded to a halt in front of its door right when an eerie, angry shriek rang out in the house. She swung the door open just in time to see Katrina and the creature described by Abbie disappear into an inky puddle on the floor. A small sheet of paper was floating on its surface.
"Bordel de merde!" Enola spat.
She could hear Abraham rushing in her direction, undoubtedly alerted by the shriek, but she didn't wait for him: she ran to the puddle and jumped in with both feet. Instead of her feet meeting the hardwood of the floor, she was engulfed in cold, deep, dark waters. Well, thank whoever created us that I don't need to breathe.She spotted Katrina and her assailant further down in the water. The ghoul—she couldn't call it a ghost when it was obviously very corporeal—had ensnared the struggling witch from behind in its bloodless arms and was dragging her deeper and deeper. Their clothes and their long hair were billowing around them and the ghoul's eyes were two glowing green orbs in the darkness. Enola swam to them as fast as she could and slipped behind the revenant; from there, she grabbed its arms. The flesh beneath her fingers was colder than the water and squishy, and she had to will herself not to jerk away from the unpleasant touch. She wrenched the limbs from Katrina, tearing a screech of pain and rage from the ghoul's throat, and twisted them into unyielding hammerlocks. The witch immediately pushed herself away from her assailant. The revenant was thrashing and screaming, which didn't make it any easier for Enola not to sink further as legs kept hitting and tangling with hers, impeding her movements.
She forced herself to think calmly about what she was going to do next, but before she could reach a decision, the ghoul was suddenly yanked down, which forced Enola to release it. When she glanced down, she saw long thick algae wrapped around its legs. Only then did she notice that Katrina's hands were glowing with magic. They didn't waste time watching the ghoul fighting its bonds and hurriedly swam up. When her head broke the surface, the first thing Enola spotted was the Dobbs Ferry Bridge and she cursed inwardly. The bitch teleported us into the river! They were several miles away from the estate… Several miles that they'd have to walk while dripping wet, and contrary to herself, Katrina was very much affected by the cold. Fan-fucking-tastic. For now, though, they had bigger problems than their lack of transportation.
Enola reached the sandy bank before Katrina, mostly because she was wearing trousers and not a long nightgown. The witch was panting in exhaustion and fear.
"Come on Katrina!" Enola urged, helping her friend out of the water so she wouldn't trip and fall.
To be honest, Enola herself was more than a little worried: she had no idea of the undead woman's powers, no idea how to defeat her, and frankly, her appearance was simply hair-raising. But above all, the vampire was bloody pissed. No one tried to kill her friends and got away with it, not to mention the risk of Katrina catching a severe cold, the discomfort of their wet clothes sticking to their skins, and the long trek ahead of them. I swear, I'll gouge that bitch's creepy eyes out.
Enola and Katrina plunged into the mist-filled woods stretching beyond the shore and ran straight ahead, Enola holding Katrina's hand to guide her among the treacherous roots and the low branches.
"Wait!" the vampire suddenly breathed, slowing to a halt. "I think I heard something…"
She listened intently and, a couple of seconds later, she heard it again: Ichabod's voice, calling their names. And two pairs of footsteps crunching the dead leaves. A relieved smile lit up her face: maybe the Witnesses would know what to do with the ghoul.
"Ichabod and Abbie are here," she explained before Katrina could ask what was going on. "That way."
They resumed their running and before long, they stumbled across the Witnesses. Ichabod, who was carrying a small crossbow, rushed to Katrina and embraced her tightly, relief written all over his face, while Abbie went and hugged Enola.
"You okay?" the police lieutenant asked with concern, pulling away so she could give her friend a once-over.
"I'm soaked, worried, and pissed off, but fine," Enola grumbled. "Hey, do you think squishing that bitch's head will be enough to stop her? Because I volunteer my services."
"I'm not sure it'll work," Abbie chuckled. "But we–"
Their conversation, as well as Ichabod and Katrina's, was interrupted by the distant screams of the undead woman.
"Her name is Mary Wells," Ichabod specified. "You met her in my company many years ago."
"The young woman from England?" his wife recalled with a frown.
"The very same. This creature is her tormented spirit given flesh. I do not know what has brought her here, but I must learn the truth."
"She was raised by dark magic. I only know one warlock powerful enough to accomplish it."
Ichabod immediately figured out whom she was talking about, and the worry on in his face turned into dismay.
"Henry," he breathed dejectedly.
A metallic taste filled Enola's mouth and she clenched her fists as her anger became rage. Of course, it was Parrish's work. Only he would be twisted enough to hurt Ichabod by summoning a literal ghost from his past. If she bit back the stream of insults burning her tongue, it was only out of consideration for Ichabod and Katrina, but she promised herself that she'd let the steam off later, when she'd be alone. You miserable bastard, fucking wanker, filthy piece of shit! I swear I'll make you pay for every second of suffering you brought us!
"I can undo his work," Katrina hastily specified, very much aware of Enola's fury. "Send that poor woman's soul to a better place. But I too must use dark magic to accomplish the task: in order to release her spirit, I must risk my own. The only way for the spell to be achieved is for another witch to serve as an anchor to keep me from losing my way."
"We're all out of witches," Abbie shot back. "How about a Witness ?"
The screams of Mary Wells rang out again, closer this time, startling them.
"The spell will take some time to cast," Katrina warned.
"Then I'll hold her off until the incantation has taken full effect," Ichabod decided. "Enola, you should stay here to protect them in case Mary goes through me."
"You can count on me."
Katrina beckoned Abbie to come over and they kneeled face to face.
"Be careful!" Ichabod exclaimed before hurrying towards the river.
"I will teach you the words you must repeat," Katrina said, taking Abbie's hands in hers.
She began chanting in Latin. As for Enola, she walked to a tree and then up its trunk as easily as she would take a stroll down a street, her body horizontal but her hair and clothes still obeying the laws of gravity. She chose a branch that offered her a good view of her surroundings and, perched there like a hawk, she scanned the forest for any suspicious movement or noise.
Enola was gazing at Katrina with unease, frowning and chewing her bottom lip. She shouldn't have lied about Mary Wells's fate; she should have trusted Ichabod to make the right decision and stay in America to fight for his convictions. Or at least, she should have told him sooner—after they had decided to marry, for example. Marriage should be based on honesty, she mused. Without it, there can be no trust, and without trust, there can be no love. The list of the witch's lies was beginning to get a bit too long, especially when one considered the seriousness of said lies.
Her thoughts were interrupted by furious hoof beats. Ugh! Why can't we have a moment's peace? The Horseman was galloping at full speed towards them, his axe lifted and ready to strike. The vampire caught the Witnesses' puzzled comments and Katrina's explanation about her enchanted necklace, and she realized that they too could see his face, which was but a mask of fury. His eyes were fixed on Ichabod. Oh no, you don't… She stepped right in his way, not knowing what exactly had prompted her to do it.
"Stop!" she barked, her hands lifted in the air with her palms towards her enemy.
Much to her surprise, the white horse actually slowed down and came to a halt a couple of feet from her, gazing at her with unusually intelligent eyes. She could have sworn that his rider had not pulled the reins.
"What are you doing?" she heard Abraham growl quietly, which confirmed her suspicion.
Her puzzled frown deepened when the horse brought his head closer to her with a soft nicker, as if requesting a caress. That was when she remembered his friendly greeting when she'd first seen him and a fond lopsided smile tugged at her lips.
"So you're a nice demonic horse," she commented, stroking his muzzle and the bridge of his nose. "Obviously you don't take after your rider."
She leaned sideways and looked up at Abraham, who was, predictably, glowering at her, and looked ready to bodily throw her away from his horse. She returned his glare squarely, her expression contrasting starkly with the gentle way she was stroking the horse.
"If you're the cavalry, you're late," the vampire bit out. "The monster's all taken care of."
At these words, incomprehension seeped into Abraham's glare and softened his frown.
"What monster?" he asked as he dismounted.
"Abraham..."
Katrina's soft, pleading voice diverted his attention from Enola, which suddenly made him realize that he'd all but forgotten about the witch and the Witnesses. He blamed it on the very distracting jumble of emotions that had been churning inside him at the sight of Enola petting Daredevil—betrayal because his horse had chosen to obey his enemy rather than him and was now getting quite comfortable with her, resentment because, once again, the vampire had gotten in his way, and an unbearable shred of warmth because... well, he didn't know exactly. There was something almost gratifying about seeing this instantaneous affection between Enola and his loyal companion... For one brief moment, the world shifted and he no longer saw Enola as his enemy but as a young woman who cared for Daredevil and whom Daredevil cared for.
That wouldn't do at all.
"It was an angry spirit from our past that stole me from your home. Not Ichabod. He saved me just now," the witch went on in a calm voice, as if talking to a scared animal. "Now, I know you might hate him, but if you care for me, truly care for me, as you say you do... you will repay him with his life."
Abraham glared at Ichabod with all the hatred he could muster, simply not to betray the fact that he had well and truly forgotten about his rival's presence. What is that damn woman doing to me? And what in Hell's name is it with women and the 'if you love me' routine? Katrina's plea was useless, anyway: his fury had already cooled off, and since Enola was there, he knew he had no chance to kill his enemy. Besides, right now he wanted nothing more than to go somewhere away from the vampire.
"I am ready to go home," Katrina added with a tentative smile, taking a step towards him.
For a brief moment it seemed she had said this only to draw his attention away from Ichabod, but then he caught the look on his rival's face: it was so disbelieving, so appalled, that it couldn't possibly be faked. It nearly drew a gloating laugh from him. Now you know how it feels to be rejected by the one you love… He pushed aside the memory of Enola shouting at him that he didn't actually love Katrina, and offered his hand to the witch who slipped her fingers over his and allowed him to lead her towards Daredevil. The white horse huffed: he most definitely preferred the vampire to the witch. Granted, the former was much more aggressive but, at least, she was honest. Now the witch… He could just smell her hypocrisy. The vampire, however, gave off the sweet smell of death that tickled his nose so pleasantly. Besides, being taken down a notch or two could only do his rider some good. Nevertheless, he didn't move when the witch hauled herself onto his back, followed by Abraham who took place behind her.
"Katrina, I'll be right behind you," Enola said in a neutral tone as she stepped away from the white horse. "I need to fetch some things I left at the estate before I go home."
"Of course," the witch replied with a somewhat hesitant smile, having noticed Enola's disapproval.
"You should take a bath," the vampire advised. "I'm afraid the Hudson River is much filthier than it was in the eighteenth century, so if you don't want to catch some disease…"
Katrina nodded, then Abraham turned his horse around and spurred him into gallop. They quickly disappeared into the mist.
So, yeah, my vampires can walk on vertical surfaces. Ceilings, too. I'll admit, I got the idea from the movie Van Helsing. I thought it was pretty cool ^^
Good news! FateMagician edited the next four chapters, so you won't have to wait for too long long after all. Only two weeks.
Only nine reviews left to reach one hundred, guys! Come on, you can do it!