The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  Except for Spengler, I thought, swallowing a momentary stab of guilt. Caitlin stood behind me as we approached, and I caught a glimpse of her wringing her hands. I didn’t think anything could make her nervous.

  They all fell silent as we walked up to the table. Their eyes had weight, questioning, roving. I reached behind Caitlin, resting a reassuring hand on the small of her back.

  “Everybody,” I said, “I want you to meet someone. This is Caitlin.”

  If any of the tourists a few tables away had looked in our direction, they wouldn’t have seen a thing. Just a pack of people sitting in sudden silence, waiting for someone to talk. If they could see like we did, though, attuned to the currents of magic, it would have been a totally different story. Psychic tendrils took to the wind like a sea anemone’s tentacles, rippling in the air, testing, probing. Some jerked back in sudden shock while others curved around, sniffing at Caitlin’s spirit-body with dark curiosity.

  I could feel Bentley and Corman’s minds, their presence a warm pressure on my sinuses, and I realized what they were doing. They wanted to know if I’d been corrupted. Poisoned, addicted, like Caitlin had done to Detective Holt.

  “No,” I said firmly, and the pressure receded.

  “Is that what I—” Jennifer started to say, then leaned over to Margaux and whispered, “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she murmured, her face a blank slate.

  Bentley’s hands dropped under the table, and I knew him well enough to know what that meant. My own hand drifted toward my pocket, the weight of my cards reassuring against my hip. Mama pushed back her chair, just half an inch. Corman’s eyes narrowed. I felt the situation slipping out of control, like a ball of yarn tumbling down a flight of stairs, one useless end clutched in my fingertips.

  “You’re my family,” I said, and the movement stopped dead. I looked at them and shook my head. “Growing up, I didn’t really have one worth a damn. You all know where I came from, where I’ve been. Your stories are a lot like mine. We aren’t just friends. What we have is deeper than that. The lengths we’ve gone for each other are farther than that. We chose each other, as family. Because we needed each other.”

  Corman’s eyes widened. Margaux nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “When times are hard,” I said, “we have each other’s backs. We trust each other. I know it goes against everything in your gut, but right now, I want you—I need you—to trust me. Trust me when I tell you that Caitlin…Caitlin’s okay. This woman saved my life. I hope you can respect that. I hope you can respect me.”

  Now the pensive silence was palpable. I looked across the table, my heart pounding. If they turned me away, cast me out…

  Caitlin put her arm around my waist. Now it was her turn to give a reassuring touch. Bentley’s gaze flitted to her hand, to the way she looked at me. His expression softened and he took a deep breath, nodding to himself.

  “I think we’ve been terribly rude,” he said softly. “We need two more chairs at this table.”

  Jennifer moved the flower box, patting the empty chair. “C’mere, Cait, you can sit next to me. Y’know, I dated Daniel for a coupla months once—”

  “Too soon,” I groaned, pulling over a chair and looking for the drink menu.

  “Oh, no,” Caitlin said. “I want to hear all about it.”

  Corman just smiled, patting Bentley on the back and whispering in his ear. I felt tears in my eyes and a kind of relief I hadn’t known existed.

  There was no guarantee any of us would live to see the morning, but whatever Lauren had in store for us, we’d face it together.

  39.

  With a frozen margarita in hand and the waitress out of earshot, I got down to business.

  “Tonight, Lauren Carmichael and her followers are going to open the Etruscan Box. If she succeeds, it’s pretty much game over for the entire planet. Not that we’ll be around to worry about it, because Las Vegas will be a smoking crater.”

  Caitlin and I ran them through the high points of the story. We skirted around the parts about Solomon’s ring. I meant what I had said to Caitlin back on the plane: the fewer people who knew it existed, the safer we all were. I felt bad, holding out on everybody right after they’d gone out on a limb for me, but then I imagined the consequences if word got out. I knew I was making the right call.

  “These smoke-faced men,” Corman grumbled, “I’ve never heard of anything like ’em. You sure this professor had all his marbles in one bag, kiddo? I mean, he has spent the last twenty years in a rubber room.”

  Mama Margaux mused over her drink. She had swapped her shake for a rum hurricane once we started talking. The apocalypse always goes better with booze.

  “I’ve seen some of the Loa pictured a little like that, but the deed doesn’t fit. The spirits get up to grim mischief sometimes, but not that grim.”

  “Mama’s right,” Jennifer drawled. “Whoever these boys are, they’re into delivering doom on an epic scale. Patient critters, too.”

  I looked around the table and said, “Whoever they are, we’ll settle up with them soon enough. Priority one, tonight, is to get the Box and take down Lauren and her crew.”

  “Got any ideas?” Corman asked.

  “Well, etiquette and tradition dictate that I challenge them to a formal duel of sorcery refereed by an elder scholar of the art. All things considered, though, I’m leaning toward just shooting them. Everyone in favor of the just-shoot-them plan?”

  Everyone held up their hands.

  “Getting in, that’s the hard part,” I said. “The entrance is on Fremont, in the pedestrian mall. Big crowds, lots of attention. We can’t just kick in the front door without being noticed.”

  Jennifer rubbed her chin. “They gotta have a cargo entrance, don’t they? I mean, when the place was open for business, they weren’t bringin’ delivery trucks up that street.”

  Bentley slid a fountain pen from his shirt pocket and reached for a spare napkin. He sketched as he spoke, outlining the building.

  “There is indeed. The Silverlode’s quite the historical artifact. The casino, here, and the hotel tower were originally separate, adjoining buildings. Benny Binion bought them both in the early fifties and remodeled them as a single venue, Binion’s Silverlode. The old girl had a good run. Finally closed its doors about ten years ago. An investment firm tried their hand at reopening for a couple of years after that, but they never got the magic back.”

  I pointed at a thin line. “So what’s this? An alley?”

  “An alley from a street one block over,” Bentley said. “There’s a service entrance to the casino along with a loading-bay door. Quite private. Here’s your problem, though. The Klondike Room is here, on the twelfth floor. To get to the stairs, you’ll have to cross the casino and the hotel lobby.”

  I thought back to Nicky’s warning about Meadow Brand’s traps, and my jaw tightened. “Nicky said the hotel elevator will take me right up to the Klondike. That right?”

  Corman snorted. “Sure, if you’re in a hurry to get killed. Think about it, kiddo. Elevator that opens right into the room where they’re camping out? They’ll cut you down the second the doors open, and they’ll see the car coming up five minutes before it gets there. Same problem with the emergency stairwell.”

  Margaux frowned at the sketch. “What kind of place was the Klondike? Bar or a restaurant?”

  “Full service,” Bentley said. “Had the best steak and martini special in town, and for peanuts too. Cormie and I used to be regular fixtures there.”

  “They didn’t squeeze slabs of beef into the elevator with the dinner guests,” she said. “Had to be a way for the workin’ folks to go up top, too, and supply the kitchen. Bet you there’s a service elevator.”

  “What kind of opposition are we looking at?” Corman asked.

  “Three sorcerers,” I said. “They’re good, and I mean good. First up is Sheldon Kaufman. He’s a brawler, does this thing he calls Forsaken Hand styl
e—”

  Bentley scrunched his nose. “Ugh. I’d thought that school went extinct a long time ago. Dreadful people. I’ll not put you off your drinks by describing their teaching techniques.”

  I nodded. “Least of our worries, I think. Number two is Meadow Brand. She builds things. I’m not sure if she can do any spontaneous, impromptu magic, but the Silverlode’s her house and she’s had plenty of time to prepare surprises for us. Finally, there’s Lauren. You’ve all seen what she’s capable of.”

  “So how do you want to play it?” Jennifer asked.

  I sat back and sipped my margarita, watching the slow traffic on the boulevard. So many happy, innocent people, not knowing they could be headed for their last sunset on Earth. I’d botched this thing from start to finish. Spengler died in front of me because I couldn’t save him. I was too late to rescue Amber Vance. Now, all eyes were on me, and they expected me to come up with a plan to stop Armageddon. No pressure.

  “We hit them hard and fast. Not just because we’re on a deadline—the longer it takes me to climb that tower, the longer they have to prepare a welcoming party. I need to know what I’m running into, before I run into it. Corman, you’re the best remote viewer in the business. If you’re up for it, I want you on astral overwatch.”

  Corman nodded firmly. “Been a long time since I was the best, kiddo, but I’ve still got the juice where it counts. I’m in.”

  “I’ll translate for Cormie,” Bentley said. “He doesn’t have much breath when he’s in a trance state. You wear an earpiece, and I’ll relay everything he says over the telephone.”

  I turned to Margaux. “Mama, I’m expecting heavy wards. Keep-out-or-die kinda stuff. I seem to recall your spirit buddies are good at dismantling those.”

  “Good? Hah! Those wards will crack like eggshells in a blender. Give me a couple hours, maybe three, to make the sacrifices and butter them up. My spirits’ll dance with you, Danny boy. No barrier built by mortal hands will stand in your way.”

  “And for everything else,” Jennifer said, “you got me. Oh, I am going in with you. You know me, I’m a hands-on kinda witch, and I don’t mind the rough stuff.”

  Caitlin cleared her throat. “I’ll be in communication with…my people. Preparing for the worst, in the event that they open the Box and my prince is summoned forth.”

  I studied the napkin sketch. No way to tell what we’d face once we got inside. On astral overwatch, Corman’s disembodied eyes should be able to scout ahead and offer a few seconds of warning, but that was all the help we’d get. Once we hit the door, it’d be a twelve-floor sprint through everything they could throw at us.

  “They’ll anticipate someone jimmying the door at the service entrance,” I said. “Good place for a nasty trap. I’d love to get in through the loading bay instead, but I’m not sure how. Any suggestions?”

  “Boom-boom. Clump of C-4 the size of a butter stick,” Jennifer said.

  “Loud,” Bentley said, “but they’ll almost certainly be alerted to your presence as soon as the assault begins, no matter how you go in. Loud and disorienting might be to our advantage.”

  “Wait,” I said, “plastic explosives? You can get that?”

  “Darlin’, I deal in mass quantities of recreational substances for a living. Outlaw bikers are some of my best customers. When I say I can get some boom-boom, I mean I can get some boom-boom. Lemme make some calls, I’ll have it by tonight.”

  It made sense. Nicky had said he could keep the cops at bay, at least for a little while, and hopefully the back lot was secluded enough that the blast would sound more like fireworks or a backfiring car to the crowds a block away.

  “I think we’re ready.” I pushed back my chair, offering my hand to Caitlin. “Let’s meet up at eight tonight. We’ll get the job done.”

  It wasn’t much of a speech. I felt like I should say something to rally the troops, considering what was on the line, but then again I didn’t need to. Looking around the table at the resolve in their eyes, I could see that everybody knew the stakes. They’d follow me into hell if they had to.

  I hoped that saying didn’t turn literal.

  “One thing,” Jennifer said, handing me the long flower box. I took it in my hands, surprised by its weight. “I saved that for you, from the locust job we pulled on Spengler’s house. I think he’d want you to have it. Don’t open it here.”

  Bentley held up a finger. “Daniel? A word?”

  I nodded and walked with him to the opposite edge of the patio deck. He fumbled for words, and I waited patiently while he found them. I already knew what he was going to say.

  “I’m not okay with this,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “No, please, hear me out. When Cormie and I found you, you were…a ruin. What that cult did to you, what those demons did inside of you, was unspeakable. Your spirit was in tatters, scarred, torn. Most people would have died from that kind of abuse, but you survived. You survived and grew into a vibrant, strong man who we are so very, very proud of.”

  “You think it’s going to happen again. Is that it? You think Caitlin’s going to hurt me?”

  Bentley shook his head, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes tightening.

  “She’s a demon, Daniel. I’m not convinced she’s capable of not hurting you. I know what she is, and it scares me to death. But then…I saw how she looked at you.”

  I nodded, holding my silence.

  “It’s the way Cormie looked at me, when we were young. That’s what he whispered to me, when you sat down together. That the two of you reminded him of us.”

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” I told him. “Not for any of us. I just need to know you’ve got my back.”

  He pulled me into a hug, his bottom lip quivering. His shoulders felt frail in my arms, like a bird’s bones.

  “Always, son,” he whispered. “Always.”

  40.

  Caitlin and I didn’t say much on our walk back to the parking garage. She settled into the passenger seat while I put the flower box in the trunk. When I got in, she looked over at me, an unspoken word on her parted lips.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I’m processing,” she said. “This is all very new for me. They…they seem nice.”

  She was looking for something. I could see it in her eyes, a strange uncertainty, a hunger she didn’t know how to deal with. I wasn’t certain what it was, but I had a hunch.

  “Yeah, I think they liked you.”

  She smiled, relief in her eyes. “I’m not used to caring about that. I mean, if I’m dealing with a human and I need them to want me, I can make them want me. I can make them feel whatever I need them to feel.”

  “But it’s not the real thing.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  I started the engine and backed out of the parking space.

  “I want to be there with you tonight,” Caitlin said. “I hate that I can’t, but that damned ring—”

  “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll get it away from her. Even if I have to take her finger off with it.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll be playing politics. Ever since my prince advised his inner council on the Box situation, word’s spread like wildfire. There’s a gallery of potential usurpers sharpening their knives as we speak.”

  I squinted as we pulled out of the garage, the golden afternoon light splashing across my dusty windshield. “Why’d he do it, then? He had to have known people would talk.”

  “Exactly. What better time than a crisis to find out how your confidants really feel? The disloyal make themselves obvious, drooling over the thought of an empty throne. Once tonight is over and done, I suspect there will be some vigorous housecleaning in my prince’s court.”

  “You sound like you’re enjoying this.”

  “That part? I am. Some traitorous would-be conquerors are going to be very surprised when they wake up in chains tomorrow. There will be punishment. Severe. Merciless. Punishment. Pain is so much more en
joyable when it’s inflicted on the truly deserving.” She paused, quirking an eyebrow. “Does that bother you?”

  I thought about it for a second and shrugged.

  “You’re a career woman. I respect that.”

  We drove to her place. Sitting in the car, the radio turned off, we listened to the engine idle and stared at the bloody sky.

  “So what now?” she said softly.

  I took the fringed pouch from my pocket and stared at it, feeling the weight of Stacy’s half-soul in my fingertips.

  “Now I go to the storm tunnels and have a chat with a dead girl. Then I’m gonna go save the world. After that, my evening’s pretty much free. Want to get together for drinks?”

  Caitlin turned in her seat. She stroked my neck with the tips of her fingernails, sending shivers down my spine.

  “You come back to me,” she said.

  “That’s a promise,” I told her, pulling her close. We kissed, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

  #

  Even by the afternoon light, the culvert leading down to the storm tunnels was a treacherous abyss. With my flashlight fixed to my shirt pocket, I slowly climbed down the cutout rungs. My beam flashed across broken glass and concrete. Over in a patch of weeds, a rat’s beady scarlet eyes glowed in the reflected light. It turned and ran, scampering past the wall of tribal graffiti and disappearing into the tunnel. I followed it down.

  Past the first bend, snoring echoed off the tunnel walls. Eric slept like a log with the battery-powered lamp glowing behind the ramshackle walls of his lean-to. He’d apparently taken my advice about staying clear of Tunnel C. I crept past as quietly as I could, trying not to wake him.

  The trail of enchanted dust was just as I had left it, stretched from end to end across the tunnel mouth. I stood at the edge of the line and squinted into the inky gloom.