by R. L. King
He spent about half an hour prowling around the room, magical senses on full alert, checking and reinforcing his defenses. He realized that what he was doing was the mystic equivalent of building a fort out of random two-by-fours and pieces of corrugated metal, but elegance wasn’t something he had time for right now.
The spirit, for its part, was silent. He could feel its presence, but it seemed to be dormant at the moment. Maybe reaching out and giving him nightmares strong enough to make him physically ill was taxing to it in its half-present state. “You just stay asleep,” he murmured to it as he put the finishing touches on his reinforcements. “We’ll talk again tomorrow, after all these people are safe in their homes.”
Back upstairs, he found Adelaide again and was introduced to George Fayette, a tall, stoop-shouldered older man with an easy smile and dark, lively eyes. “George is the president of our foundation,” Adelaide told Stone. “He’s in charge tonight. I just provide the place for us to hold the ball.”
Stone noticed that she introduced him to George as “a friend of my nephew’s, who’s doing some consulting work for us.” Yes, well, ‘consulting mage and banisher of extradimensional horrors’ might be a bit much, he decided wryly. Besides, he hadn’t banished anything yet.
He followed George around the lower floor of the house as the other man pointed out the grand ballroom where the party would be held, where the bandstand and the bar and the tables would be (a crowd of people were busy setting up all three as they went through), where the guests’ coats would be stored, the location of the items up for auction, and the bathrooms that would be in use for the ball. Then George took him into the dining room and kitchen (“We won’t be having a full dinner, of course—just various cookies, candies, hors-d’oeuvres, eggnog, that sort of thing”). Stone had seen most of these areas of the house, of course, but George’s tour gave him a good idea of the logistics of the party, where the guests would be and where they wouldn’t be, and ways he could get around without anyone noticing if he needed to.
“So,” George said as he took Stone back to Adelaide when the tour was over, “What sort of consulting do you do, Dr. Stone?”
Stone shrugged. “Oh, little of this, little of that,” he said. “Sort of—unconventional security.”
George tilted his head. “Unconventional? We’ve got a full security force tonight, to keep an eye on the guests and make sure no one who isn’t invited gets in. We wouldn’t want anyone’s jewelry or purses stolen while they’re having a good time.”
“I’m here more in an—advisory capacity,” Stone said. “Ah, and here we are back where we started. Thank you so much for the tour, George.” He shook the man’s hand and made his exit before he’d have to answer any more questions.
It was now almost four o’clock. He was supposed to pick up Megan at 5:30, which meant he’d have to hurry if he didn’t want to be late. He said his goodbyes to Adelaide and Iona, and told them he’d be back later.
CHAPTER FORTY
Stone knocked on Megan’s door promptly at 5:30. When she answered it, all he could do was stare.
“You look—amazing,” he said. And she did. She was a lot like him: she preferred casual clothes, but she could dress up with the best of them when she wanted. Her dress, black and shimmery, clung to her like a second skin, and she wore her stiletto heels with the same confidence as her usual sensible slip-ons. Her hair, usually worn long, was swept up in a graceful, elegant up-do that framed her face beautifully. “And you’re ready on time, too,” he added. “That makes you truly a rarity among women.”
She smiled, motioning him in. “Flatterer. You look pretty damn sexy yourself. If I’d known you looked that good in a tux, I’d have gotten you to take me to more formal affairs. Shame about the hair, though,” she said with a grin.
“Hey, I tried,” he protested. He had, too; it was just that his hair was every bit as stubborn as he was, and he felt that plastering it down too forcefully made him look like a nerd. “If you’re ready, though, we’d best be going—I don’t want to be late.”
“Well, early,” she pointed out. “But I’m not complaining.” She grabbed her little bag and wrap from a table near the door, then locked it behind her. “Are we picking up Ethan?” she asked as they drove off.
He shook his head, looking troubled. “No. He’s going to get up there himself.” He paused. “Megan—I called him this morning. His mum died Thursday afternoon.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Oh, no. That’s horrible.”
He nodded. “He didn’t even tell me until I called him to find out if he wanted me to pick him up.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed.
“You’re not making him go to this thing tonight, are you?”
“No. I told him I didn’t expect him to. I offered to help with anything he needed, but he said he was fine and that he wanted to come. Said it would take his mind off things.”
She glanced over at him. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, his jaw set. “You’re feeling guilty about something, aren’t you?”
He continued to watch the road. A light rain was falling, and the oncoming headlights made dazzling patterns in the droplets on the windshield. “He…wasn’t with her when she died. Because of me.”
“Because of you? What do you mean?”
“I had him up at Adelaide’s place searching through her attic with me for some information I wanted to find.” He spoke softly, his jaw still set tight.
She touched his arm. “Alastair, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know.”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t. But I did know she was ill.”
She sighed, as if knowing there was nothing she could say that would change his mind. Instead, she just squeezed his arm and said, “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t reply.
The house was ablaze with festive lights that they could see from the road before they even reached the gate. They were still early, so they didn’t have to wait in a line of cars, but a few other early birds were already showing up. Uniformed teenagers with lightsticks waved them in, and a valet took charge of the car near the door. Megan, who had never seen Adelaide’s house before, gaped. “Wow,” she said. “You didn’t tell me your old lady lived in someplace this fancy.”
“Normally it doesn’t look quite this good,” he told her, taking her arm and escorting her up the steps to the front door. There, he showed their invitation to the doorman and they were bowed inside. “They’ve fixed it up quite a bit for the party. I’ve never seen all these lights before.”
“If I win the lottery, I’ll buy a place like this,” she said, stopping to gaze up in wonder at the twenty-foot-tall Christmas tree standing in the entry chamber. Another uniformed attendant took their coats and gave them claim checks. “And you can be my kept boy.”
Complete with ravening demon imprisoned in the basement? “I’ll take that deal,” he said aloud with a wicked grin. “But trust me, you don’t want a place like this.”
Adelaide and Iona greeted them warmly from the dining room, where Stone introduced them to Megan. “You two make a lovely couple,” Adelaide said with a smile. “I do hope you’ll be able to enjoy yourselves tonight. Don’t spend all your time working. There’s no need, is there?”
“I just want to keep an eye on things,” Stone said. “But don’t worry. We’ll make sure to enjoy your hospitality.”
Tommy Langley came in then. Unlike Stone’s tuxedo, his fit like a rental and looked a bit like he’d slept in it, but he grinned when he saw Stone and Megan. “Oh look, it’s Beauty and the Beast. Good to see you, Megan. You look fantastic.”
Stone raised an eyebrow. “Hey now—I thought I was your date for the evening, Tommy.”
“I’ll share you,” Megan said, laughing. “But I get the first dance.”
Ethan arrived a few minutes later, shown into the room by one of the uniformed guides. He looked sad and preoccupied, still wearing his parka and carrying
his backpack over his rumpled tuxedo. “Hi, Dr. Stone.” He waved in greeting to the others.
“Ethan, I was so sorry to hear about your mother,” Megan said kindly, soft enough so only he and Stone could hear.
“Thanks,” he mumbled without looking at her.
“Right, then,” Stone said, realizing that the last thing Ethan wanted right now was to be reminded about what he wanted to forget. “Ethan, if you’re feeling up to it, why don’t we head off and check things out before too many people start arriving. You can leave your stuff there if you like.”
Ethan nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Check what out?” Megan asked.
“We won’t be long,” Stone assured her. “Just some of the work we’re here to do. Back in fifteen minutes or so. Tommy, you’ll keep Megan company, won’t you?”
“With pleasure,” Langley said, grinning. “Come on, Megan, I’ll show you where the food and the bar are. Aunt Adelaide really went all out with the spread this year.”
Stone led Ethan downstairs, through the basement to the summoning room. “I’ve already checked it once today—just wanted to get a last look. I’ll probably come down again sometime tonight, but I want you to keep your eyes open—magical and mundane—and let me know if you see anything unusual, all right? Anything at all. If it looks odd, let me know right away.”
Ethan shrugged out of his parka and backpack and tossed them in a corner. “I will, Dr. Stone.”
Stone turned around, facing him. “Ethan,” he said, his voice gentle, “You really don’t need to be here if you don’t want to. I hope you don’t think I’m going to hold it against you or somehow think you’ve failed me if you’d rather be doing something else.”
“No, really, it’s fine,” he said, still looking at the floor. His eyes looked haunted in his pale face. “There really isn’t anything else I could be doing. I’d just be sitting home at the apartment. I’ve done enough of that already.”
“All right, if you’re sure,” Stone said. “But you have to promise that if you need anything or if you change your mind, you’ll let me know. If you want to leave, just tell me or leave word with someone before you go so I’ll know not to look for you.”
“I’ll do that.”
Stone nodded. “All right. Let’s take a look around here, then, and get back upstairs before Megan comes looking for us.”
Nothing had changed from the afternoon: the thing in the armoire still seemed to be sleeping, and all the reinforcements Stone had put into place were still undisturbed. He waved Ethan out, and they headed back up to the festivities.
By a little after seven o’clock, many of the guests had already arrived, and the areas designated for the ball were starting to feel comfortably crowded. Stone tracked Megan down and liberated her from Tommy, who was telling her a long-winded story about one of his students. They got drinks and circulated among the crowd.
“Have you noticed that we and Tommy are the youngest ones here?” Megan asked Stone after they’d made a slow circuit around the ballroom.
“By many years,” Stone agreed. It was true: most of the party’s guests were older, and many were quite elderly. The women all dripped with jewels that were almost certainly genuine, the men clad in classic, old-fashioned tuxedos and dinner jackets. There were a few younger guests, but even they were in their fifties.
“I guess those new computer billionaires I’ve been hearing about don’t get invited to things like this,” Megan said.
Stone raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps they were, and they just opted to make a donation. Seriously,” he added, glancing around, “I don’t think I’d be here if I wasn’t working, would you?” The band, warming up on the little bandstand he’d watched the workmen erecting this afternoon, were limbering up big-band style instruments. Not an electric guitar in sight.
“Well, it is a little slow,” she admitted. “Nice, though. Very old world.” She smiled at him. “It’s just nice being here with you, Alastair. We should do more formal things. It’s fun to play dress-up sometimes. And maybe later we can play dress down,” she added with a suggestive grin.
“Ah, something to look forward to.”
They continued circulating, sipping their drinks and greeting people as they went. As time went on and nothing horrible happened, Stone began to feel a bit more relaxed. Perhaps this evening would end up all right after all.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Some distance off in the forest, The Three stood watching the house.
“Look at all those fancy-ass cars,” Oliver said. “This thing’s bigger than I thought.”
“That’s good,” Miguel said. “It’ll make it easier for us to get in without being noticed.”
“Ethan said to go around back,” Trin said, pointing. “He said he’d meet us at eight near the back door on the west side of the house.”
“He better be there,” Oliver growled. “If he skips out on us—”
“He won’t,” Trin assured him. She began walking, careful not to trip over anything. “Damn these fucking shoes anyway.”
All three were dressed in evening clothes; Trin even wore long opera gloves to cover up her distinctive tattoos. They planned to use their blending spell to get inside, but wanted to be careful in case anyone spotted them. Oliver carried a leather bag containing some notes, ritual materials, and other gear. It also contained rope and a long, wicked-looking knife in a leather sheath.
“You think the kid’s come up with anything we can use?” Miguel asked.
Trin shrugged. “I don’t care at this point. If we don’t get its name, then we’ll just go with our other plan. Either way, it should work out fine.”
Oliver didn’t look so sure about that, but he didn’t voice his misgivings. In The Three, it never paid to go against what Trin had decided.
Inside, Ethan glanced at his watch. It was almost eight. Almost time.
He lurked near the buffet table, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. A couple of the elderly people who’d come by had mistaken him for one of the caterers, and he was fine with that. If he could have blended into the walls he would have, but Stone hadn’t taught him that spell yet.
He knew that once he let The Three into the house, there was no going back. This was his last chance to back out. Was this really what he wanted to do? Is this what his mother would have wanted? He feared his attraction to Trin was clouding his judgment. He really should just go to Stone right now, tell him everything, and then try to start fresh once he’d had some time to recover from his grief. The mage had been kind and sincerely concerned about him, both on the phone and in person. Ethan didn’t doubt that both he and Megan genuinely wanted to help him.
But Trin did, too. She had also sounded shocked when he’d told her about Mom’s death. He didn’t resent the fact that she’d asked him to be here—he knew they needed him, and they wouldn’t be able to do what they were planning without him. She’d offered to talk to him afterward, and maybe talking to someone closer to his own age might be preferable. Less lecture, more understanding.
He picked up a plate and put a couple of hors-d’oeuvres and a chicken wing on it, nibbling as he agonized over what he should do. Glancing around, he almost hoped to see Stone coming in looking for him, but the mage was nowhere to be seen.
Five to eight.
He had to go now if he was going.
He bit into some sort of little sandwich thing and chewed; it tasted like cardboard and his mouth was suddenly dry. He thought of Stone, then of Trin.
He set the plate down on a nearby table, and headed for the back part of the house.
The Three had made it to the edge of the tree line at the back of the house, and now stood impatiently waiting, watching the door.
“The little twerp isn’t coming,” Miguel muttered.
“He’ll be here,” Trin said. “No way he’s gonna let me down.”
Oliver glanced around. “I hope they don’t have security patrols out here. If we’re spotted—”
“If we’re spotted, we’ll drain ‘em and hide their clothes,” Miguel said. His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was talking about what he wanted from the buffet. “Nobody’ll find the ashes.”
“We’re pretty topped up already,” Oliver pointed out. It had been a little early to go to a club for their usual shot of energy, so they’d hit a local mall and pulled power from the crowds of Christmas shoppers.
“We’ll need all that for the ritual,” Trina said. “Much as I like this sacrifice idea, it would be easier if we had—”
“Shh—look!” Miguel hissed, taking her arm and pointing.
The door was opening.
“That’s it,” Trin urged. “Go!”
Blending spell in place, they hurried across the open yard and slipped inside. Ethan stood there, looking breathless and miserable.
“Good job, Ethan,” Trin said, squeezing his shoulder. “How are you doing?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“Good. I’m really glad you decided to come help us out. This shouldn’t take long at all, then we can leave and go find someplace more private to hang out.”
Ethan nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “Come on—let’s get this over with. Can you show us the place?”
“Yeah. Come on—this way.”
“Just act casual—nobody will pay attention to us as long as we don’t go through any crowds.”