Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Kim did not knock. If she had not been wanted, she would not have been able to get in, but the door opened easily, and she immediately mounted the stairs and began the climb to the third floor, letting Bea trail along behind. Despite the late hour, she passed two more aunts and an uncle before she reached the study – Jeremiah’s generation had been dominated by men, twelve boys and three girls, and the next tier of the family tree, seemingly in retaliation, had rebounded with twenty-nine girls and only eight boys. Kim’s own generation was still in the process of balancing out.

  The door to the study was already ajar, so she pushed inside without announcing herself. An old man sat in the chair behind the pretentiously enormous desk. His white hair was tied back in a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his face strongly resembled a walnut in both texture and color, but he looked remarkably good for a man inching up on his hundred-and-fiftieth birthday.

  He did not look up.

  Kim moved closer to the desk, hardly making a sound on the thick carpet. “Nanu? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Jeremiah frowned, but still did not look up. “I’m aware of the situation. It can’t be helped, I’m afraid. Right now, I need you to come to Scotland.”

  Kim pulled up short, blinking. “I… What?”

  “The Votadini are being difficult again. Demanding an international forum, and you can bet Galbraith thinks he’s going to be in charge. Poor man is starting to lose it. Says the spirit of Merlin is speaking to him. If we’re not there in full force, there’s a very real danger that the European Circles will cede power to the Votadini, and I’m not interested in being subject to a damn oligarchy.”

  “But… If you’re aware of the situation, then…”

  “Can’t take your mother. If anything happens to me, the leadership passes to her. If anything happens to her, leadership technically passes to your father, but… Well. Bad move to have the first in line present, too big of a target. Second obviously is unavailable. That leaves you.”

  Kim scowled. “You’re making me choose between my duty to my family and keeping my word to a friend. That’s low.”

  Jeremiah scowled right back, leaning forward with his hands splayed across the desktop. “I didn’t call this forum. I don’t dictate what the other Circles expect of my heirs. I’m not the one trying to turn this world back to colonial imperialism. This friend of yours has committed a serious infraction, but to be frank, the Votadini worry me more, right now. I don’t have the time or resources to go after him, and if he manages to hide himself before I get to it, so be it. But if you disrupt the proceedings at this forum and Galbraith takes over, that’s on your head.”

  He sat back, lacing his fingers across his gut, and tilted his head. “Incidentally, I wasn’t offering you a choice, so if it appeases your conscience, you won’t be responsible for breaking your word. You’re already in pretty deep, after this vampire fiasco. Consider this a chance to redeem yourself.”

  “It wasn’t Lenny’s fault!”

  “No. It was your fault. A liaison is not an employee, and you know damn well that you’d have been shut down in a heartbeat if anyone here heard you were working for Tony and Edith. The fact that no one did know is evidence you knew you were doing wrong.”

  “I never mentioned it because I thought that’s what I was supposed to be doing! Maintaining cordial relations and stuff. Rendering aid when needed. Look, I have sixteen file boxes on Sebastian Duran back at my apartment. Look over those. It was a necessary action.”

  “Your apartment has been cleaned out. I’ll look over the files when they get here.”

  Kim gaped. “You dismantled my life.”

  Jeremiah shot to his feet, impossibly fast for a man his age. His amber eyes burned. “You have put every last one of us in danger! We are kin. Your blood is in all of us, and they have it now! And if you’re to be believed, the only feasible solution involves the murder of an innocent, which means my choice is between surrender of my family and surrender of my principles. You’re not the only one torn, here.”

  Kim shrank back, cowed, her vision blurred, though whether from tears or shock, she couldn’t tell. “Does that mean you believe me? He isn’t dangerous.”

  The chair creaked as Jeremiah sank back into it. He looked exhausted. “I believe that you believe what you’ve told everyone. I know you’re smart, and you’ve been researching the issue, and if the books contradicted something he made you believe, you’d have noticed that. But even if it is true, and this Leonard Hugo isn’t dangerous, it does sound to me as though he could be made to be dangerous. I can’t pass sentence for a crime he was forced to commit, but for now, you’re not going anywhere near him. Kimmy, it’s possible you could be made to be dangerous, too.”

  They regarded one another in silence until he dismissed her with a nod. “Go pack, dear.”

  Fury rose in her throat, and she could feel the bronze anklet pressing inward, containing the magic she desperately wanted to unleash. She wanted to break through the window and run. She wanted to fly southeast on the wings of a storm and take the choice away from her grandfather. To hell with forums. She wanted to do what was right.

  And what was right was maintaining the balance of power, preserving the small regional Circles, preventing the hundreds of tiny wars that would inevitably break out if all authority was consolidated with the Votadini under Galbraith, who was known to be unstable. The lives of thousands of wizards had to outweigh the un-life of a dead medium.

  She turned silently and went to go scream at the walls of her room. But first, she would pack.

  * * *

  SEBASTIAN SLUMPED BACK into the motel room shortly before dawn, and Lenny trailed after. He had expected a tantrum from the other man. He had expected rage and railing and violence, but Sebastian seemed genuinely perplexed, perhaps even a little bit wounded.

  “That was supposed to work,” Sebastian said over and over. “It should have worked. That’s how it always works in the movies. He was supposed to come. Try to take me out, at least. Not… Not just ignore me. Why would he just ignore me?”

  Lenny stayed out of it, because any answer he could possibly give would upset Sebastian. He could really only hope that Sebastian would give up, would realize that they had already done all that Rhona had asked, and would start heading north. Kim was north, somewhere. He could feel her there. He could have pointed to her. It would be too much to hope that she was in Cleveland, but it was approximately the right direction. Maybe if he was closer to her, it would be easier for her to find him. He sat on the edge of the bed and fidgeted with his ring while Sebastian paced.

  “Why didn’t that work? It was supposed to work. I set it up just right. Why would he just ignore me?”

  “Maybe he d-didn’t check his mail?”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes. “He’s been checking it for a week. He wouldn’t stop now. He knows we’re watching him.”

  “Or… or something h-happened to him.”

  Sebastian began to retort, then stopped his pacing and frowned. “I guess something might have.” His face fell. “Oh. But if it did, Rhona’ll think I did it, won’t she?”

  That had the sound of a real question, so Lenny replied. “Probably.” Then he hastened to add, “But I’d tell her you didn’t.”

  Sebastian nodded almost gratefully, and resumed his pacing. “The other alternative is that he just doesn’t think we’re serious. I could take care of that.”

  Lenny started. “No,” he protested. “No, maybe… Maybe he was just t-too scared to come. He knows you’re serious, and… and he was t-too scared. D-didn’t know what you would d-do. Just… just t-try again. Leave another note. Or I’ll t-try to talk to him again.”

  The bed creaked as Sebastian sat down. “You don’t really think he’s scared, do you?”

  Lenny did not answer. He didn’t dare.

  Sebastian smiled. “At least you’re not lying to me,” he said softly. He laid a hand on the back of Lenny’s neck. “You
don’t have to come. You just stay here and watch TV. And be here when I get back. I’ll take care of everything.” He got up and moved back toward the door.

  “Wh-what, you meant right n-now?”

  “Why not?” Sebastian half-turned, and he smiled when Lenny shrank away. “The sooner we get out of here, the better. Someone might be looking for us, you know.”

  Sebastian drifted away, and the door shut behind him.

  Lenny waited. There was nothing else he could do, really. He didn’t dare leave, and he knew that, this time, if he turned on the television, the breaking stories would be cause for guilt. Sebastian had gone out to cause harm, and Lenny knew he should have stopped him, should have tried, should have done something other than sit there shaking like a frightened dog. It wouldn’t have done any good, but he still should have tried. That thought settled a lump of something sour in his throat, because at one point he would have tried, even if it did seem hopeless.

  He shivered and went to turn up the room’s heater as hot as it would go. It growled and complained and filled the room with the smell of burnt toast; several months’ accumulation of suddenly-smoldering dust could do that. It made his eyes water.

  On impulse, Lenny retreated into the bathroom and locked the door. Sebastian was gone, but it still felt like a show of defiance. He turned on the shower and sat on the floor until the room was hot and the mirror fogged and the air was so thick as to be unbreathable. It weighed down his lungs, and so he stopped breathing. At some point, he turned off the water. The room cooled, but only slowly. It was still warmer than outside, and warmer than Lenny’s insides.

  The heat felt good, but it was not enough to distract him from Sebastian’s return. The door slammed open and shut, and the man trailed death in behind him like a noxious odor. Even from behind a closed door, Lenny gagged.

  “There,” Sebastian said when Lenny managed to drag himself back out into the main room. “We’re serious. Now he knows that.”

  “You… You k-… k-k-killed his friends?”

  “Just a couple of ‘em. Doesn’t do any good if he’s got nothing left to lose.” He glanced at Lenny’s pallid face and grimaced. “What’s wrong with you now?”

  “No, n-nothing. I’m fine. It’s just… It’s on you.”

  Sebastian bared fangs. “Oh ‘it’ is, is it? I can see you judging me, medium,” he spat. “Get the hell over it.”

  Lenny could not get over it. It was worse than it had been before, either because he had seen it coming or because there were two terrified echoes suspended in ectoplasm – they had seen it coming, too. He took the keys and went out to sleep in the back seat of the car.

  They were at the Alamo Dome again at midnight. Again they waited, and again no one arrived. Sebastian went out the following day and killed another. Lenny again did nothing to stop him, only avoided him until he was required to stand by his side in the parking lot and wait once more.

  And the next morning, Daniel Leland was gone. His house was empty, totally empty, and his car was gone. Lenny stood awkwardly in the driveway while Sebastian broke down the door; the house was no longer a home, and the protective threshold had vanished with its owner. There was not much to find, only half of a button, but Sebastian huddled over the fragment of polished tortoiseshell as though it were a treasure.

  “Going to run? Good, fine.” he growled through clenched teeth. “He’s English. They do that foxhunting crap. Well, we’re the hounds. If some two-bit shaman can do it, so can we. Let’s find a wizard.”

  There were wizards aplenty in San Antonio, minor practitioners and self-taught talents, herbalists and therapists among the curanderías, the holistic medicine shops in the city’s south side. Sebastian caught one, a thin, dark boy who could not have been much older than seventeen. The boy had power, so strong Lenny could feel it itch under his skin just from being near, but it was untrained and unfocused. Paralyzed, snared by Sebastian’s eyes, he gave his name as Efrain.

  Sebastian shoved the bit of button into Efrain’s hand and made a series of demands in Spanish too fast for Lenny to understand. Lenny almost protested. He had not seen Coyote’s procedure, but he had seen the setup, and he knew it involved a lot of equipment, a lot of bits and bobs that would come together somehow to produce magic. But Efrain was stronger than Coyote. The boy’s arm stiffened and his eyes rolled back, drifting half-closed, and his head turned slowly to face west.

  “Allí,” he said. There.

  Sebastian shoved the other two into the back seat and drove.

  Chapter 16

  SEBASTIAN TREATED IT like a game, at first. He enjoyed breaking people, and Leland annoyed him – the perfect excuse. If Lenny was honest with himself, Leland annoyed him too, though he would have chosen to leave him alone. But gradually, Sebastian realized that Leland was always a step ahead. It took him maybe a week to figure out that they weren’t catching up. Whenever they arrived anywhere, Leland was gone. Just barely gone, but gone all the same. It wasn’t a game, it was an actual chase, one that could go either way, and that irritated Sebastian. It went from a game to a chore. For a time, he just wanted to get it over with, grab the guy and drag him back to Rhona so she would hide him with whatever kind of hiding expertise she had.

  But in Tampa, it went from a chore to a vendetta.

  Lenny stayed in the car with an unresponsive Efrain, sandwiched between two warehouses in a shipping district that was thick with the smell of ocean. It was almost chilly in the shadow between the buildings. It settled into his bones while he waited for Sebastian to come back. The sun climbed the sky and began to sink again, breaking into the car only for a moment before it disappeared back behind a roof. Lenny shifted and fidgeted. He read the car’s owner manual from cover to cover, and then he read it again. Then he slept. There was nothing else for him to do, and he could not stand to look at the young man beside him; he remembered all too well when he had been like that, empty and silent inside, and the reminder made him ill. When he woke stiff and groggy, he considered getting out to stretch his legs, and even went so far as to touch the door handle before he realized that he didn’t dare. He curled up in the seat and watched a pigeon pecking at the pavement outside.

  Then something bigger caught his eye. He followed a leg up to a hand and the bottle it held, a damp rag stuffed into the bottle’s mouth. Lenny’s eyes widened and darted up to the miscreant’s face. Leland.

  The man froze. He obviously hadn’t expected to find the car occupied, and much to Lenny’s relief, did not seem eager to torch a person along with the vehicle. Not a human, at least. If not for Efrain, Lenny thought he might have gone ahead. He hovered, holding the Molotov still unlit and knuckled his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

  Lenny deliberated. Sebastian had told him to stay in the car, and the impulse to obey was strong. But there was always the possibility – however slight – that he could help Leland understand. Not make. A medium could not make. But he could help. If he did, if he could convince Leland to come quietly, that might be the end of it. Rhona would hide Sebastian, maybe. Sebastian would let him go, maybe. Maybe. There would be problems. He could still get in trouble. Sebastian was unpredictable and might do something terrible to Leland. Then again, he might not. It wouldn’t be practical. It wouldn’t get him what he wanted.

  Lenny popped the door and slid out.

  Leland took off like a shot, worn leathern loafers beating the pavement at an inhuman pace.

  “Wait!” There was no way Lenny could catch up. He was not fast like the others. If he ran, he would fall. He shuffled after as quickly as he could. “Daniel! Just t-talk to me!”

  He tumbled into the sun and had to stop, blinking, as it blinded him. There had been no reason for him to pay close attention when Sebastian had driven in, and he had only a vague idea of what lay beyond the little alley. As his eyes adjusted, a concrete lot came into focus, full of disassembled trucks and pieces of engines, some of them too large to belong to an automobile. Boats, maybe
, or planes. Lenny couldn’t be sure.

  Daniel Leland stood on the near side of the chain-link fence, across the lot from Lenny and still holding his Molotov. “Stop following me,” he hissed. He did not raise his voice, but the demand carried well enough. But he was talking. He could have been long gone in a matter of seconds, but instead, he was talking.

  “That’s not up to me!” Lenny called back. “He’s not g-going to stop. He’s not going to stop until he’s got you in that c-car and on your way to your sister. I… I lost the phone number, though…”

  “He? Why are you here, then?”

  “B-because. Because she wanted me to g-get you to talk to her. That’s all, I swear. He… Look, I d-don’t even know why he’s here, and it d-d-doesn’t matter. She wants you b-back. I think you should go.”

  Daniel Leland shifted, and his expression darkened. “Do you really? And who did this to you? Not your big friend, I don’t think. Someone you are eager to go back to?”

  The man was full of fury, and Lenny was not about to talk to him about Kate. “She died,” he said softly. “But if I had another chance, I wouldn’t say no. What if Rhona dies? Do you even have anyone else? How long have you b-been alone?”

  Again, Lenny saw a flicker of something, uncertainty or guilt, there and gone again just as quickly.

  “I’d rather take my chances alone than with her. You don’t understand. How can I make you understand?” Leland pushed a spidery hand through his graying hair, letting the bottle fall from his fingers. Gasoline began to drip out onto the concrete. “I don’t fit in with… with you lot. I don’t, and I don’t want to. I have no interest in interacting with you… people” – the word came with difficulty and disgust, like a gob of bile – “at all. I want to be left alone. I thought she had begun to realize that.”