Page 81 of Transfiguration
“Fuck,” Sam swore. “Why you gotta be so sappy? I’m not a nice guy, you know.”
“Sure,” Con said without really agreeing.
“Jerk.”
A smile tugged the corners of Con’s lips. Sam smiled to himself after glancing his way and keeping them focused toward their destination. “What if there’s a demon?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“I’m the enforcer,” Sam protested.
“And I can wrap anything up in a wall of wind strong enough to tear them apart. Brute strength isn’t always the answer.” Con flipped through more books.
“How are you not Pillar and I am?” Sam asked.
“No idea. Not Dominion trained. Everything I know is self-taught.”
“You’re the amazing one,” Sam said as he turned onto the side road lined with yellow tape. Everything looked still and untouched, but something battered at his senses. “Is that sensation the mark, you think?”
“Ley lines,” Con corrected. “A junction of ley lines. Not all that unlike the ones under Rou’s property.”
“But Seiran’s house doesn’t feel like this,” Sam floundered to explain. “Like my teeth hurt?”
“I think that’s because as the Pillar of Earth, he has settled the disruption of their presence. The one here is inflamed, like they forced it to cross? There are ley lines all over the world, and thousands of crossings like this. Whatever they did to it is what makes it feel like a drill in our skull,” Con said.
“Accurate,” Sam said as he parked the SUV off to the side of the narrow path through the trees. Con got out, leaving all the books behind. He pulled out the bag carrying Matthew’s bones. It didn’t look like anything macabre, just a dark blue bit of suede fabric. Sam couldn’t sense it, or its contents at all. But he could feel the ache in the land, even though they weren’t at all close to the symbol.
“Has it gotten worse or are my Pillar senses making it feel worse?” Sam asked.
Con’s jaw was tight. “It’s gotten worse.” He swung the bag onto his back, keeping the pouch in hand, and headed through the trees. Sam followed close behind, pausing for a half second when he realized he was sensing something else.
“Zombies,” Sam said, grabbing Con’s arm. They cleared the thick edge of trees to find a wall of shambling dead surrounding the cabin and likely the symbol behind it. He sent out a small brush of magic to see if he could latch onto control of them. They turned his way in one massive unit.
“Creepy,” Con said. “Did you make them do that?”
“Brushed them with magic,” Sam said, trying to push more their way, but it met a wall of resistance, and he couldn’t seem to grab a hold of them like he had the ones who had attacked the investigation crew a few weeks back. “They aren’t listening to me. Maybe that’s a power I don’t get to keep forever?”
“Or someone else who has control of them is nearby. Didn’t the Dominion find all the bodies?”
“Or covered up that there were more in the forest? Maybe we should call Gabe.”
“He needs to stay with Rou,” Con said. His gaze trailed over the masses. “These have been dead a long time.”
“I could set them on fire. Dead, dried-out corpses burn easy enough,” Sam offered.
“Um, we’re standing in a forest, and I’m pretty sure we are both still somewhat flammable. You may survive that being the Pillar of Fire, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t. I needed the baby fae to heal me last time.”
“Fuck,” Sam cursed.
“Stay behind me. I’m hoping my shield will cover you,” Con said as he stepped forward, making his way toward the dead.
Sam grabbed the back of Con’s shirt, hating the idea of not being first into battle. But he’d tear those zombies up if he had to. They moved their heads as he and Con approached, as if tracking their movements even though most of them had empty, gaping eye sockets, and that was strange. Were they guarding the symbol?
“I can’t feel anyone else nearby,” Sam whispered. Normally, his vampire senses would tell him a thousand things before anyone got close. Heartbeat, scent, even a residue of magic, but the pulsing ache of the symbol over the crossing ley lines was fucking with him. Even his vision turned wobbly on the edges, making him pause. Con stopped, feeling Sam’s hesitation.
Con lifted a hand toward the group, and the wind picked up, whipping through the trees. Sam could only feel the barest hint of a breeze, but it suddenly swept aside the zombies like an enormous fist of wind slammed into them. They toppled like dominoes, limbs catching on each other and struggling to get back up, like puppets with tangled strings, and Sam frowned at how hollow they felt. Was it because they were really old dead?
Con led him forward, the wind still blasting the zombies, hitting them hard enough to break a few apart, while Sam and Con walked right by. “Damn,” Sam muttered. “You’re a powerful bitch.”