“And what is that? What exactly can you prove, Miss Malveaux?”
Mae sat silently glaring at Hodgins. She suspected he had something to do with Chrysandra’s case beyond being the family attorney. She wondered how deeply involved he was with her death and whatever was planned for the child’s reanimated remains. She glanced at the crystal marble as it caught the light coming in from the window, and then looked back to her adversary.
“What’s your angle, Bill? Why are you trying so hard to protect the Arnesons?”
He frowned at her. “It is—a personal thing. I’m asking you as a colleague. Leave this alone. I promise Chrysandra will be properly taken care of from this moment forward. Please.”
Mae looked at Hodgins’s face, using all of her years doing interviews and dealing with people to read his expression. He looked earnest. If she did not know that Chrysandra Arneson was already dead, she might have believed him.
“I give you my word. Chrysandra will be a happy and protected child from this point on.” His voice was soft, soothing.
Suddenly, Mae suspected she knew the identity of Chrysandra’s unknown father. William Hodgins was a close personal friend of the Arneson family. Marie Arneson, when not drugged out, was a beautiful woman. Both were single. It added up in Mae’s head. She frowned.
“I wish I could believe you, Bill.”
“Why not?” he asked softly. “Why can you not believe what I am telling you?”
“Because I saw—”
She stopped talking, suddenly aware that she was about to tell him she had seen the reflection of the girl’s rotting corpse in the mirror that night. It was enough to snap Mae back to reality. She tore her eyes away from the crystal, not even realizing that she had been staring at it, and glared at Hodgins. He seemed to understand what she was about to say. He lifted the crystal to eye level, and it gave a faint pulse.
Mae’s survival instincts kicked into overdrive. Striking before Hodgins could react, she grabbed the notebook and photographs and fled the coffee shop in one swift motion. Behind her, Hodgins swore loudly.
Mae glanced down at what she was carrying, suddenly wanting to be very sure about the items. There was no doubt. Someone had taken this photograph of her on the day her apartment was broken into. She was standing outside, her arms folded over her chest talking to Sergeant Dean.
She turned down an alley, heading south. If she could get out of sight for even a moment, she might be able to hide. She was small and could fit into the most amazing places if need arose, and right now her need seemed all too real.
She burst out of the alley and spared a glance behind her. Hodgins was screaming “thief” at the top of his lungs and closing the distance between them. She looked forward and scanned the area for a place to hide. The messenger bag she carried was weighing her down and flapping against her side.
She made a turn to the right, running full out and around the back of a line of shops, down another alley, hoping to find something, anything that would give her cover.
She heard footsteps and saw a flurry of movement to her side. There was a sudden impact into her back. Mae felt her breath forced out of her body as her feet flew out from underneath her. She hit hard, smashing onto the ground with both of her knees. She flipped and her left elbow hit the concrete as her whole body snapped forward. She rolled once, trying to get away from whatever or whoever had knocked her down, but the person stayed with her, pinning her. Mae made a desperate push, trying to throw off her attacker, but the person was stronger and shoved her back down. Mae’s head smacked on the hard pavement and she saw bright lights. She felt a weight lift from her chest, but continued to gasp, unable to catch a breath.
Ilona loomed over her, so close that the woman’s black hair touched Mae’s face. Ilona threw back her head and laughed, then struck Mae with her open palm. Mae was dazed for a moment, and it was enough for the woman to wrestle the notebook and photographs away from her.
Mae sat up and made a grab, but Ilona touched her cameo and vanished with a shimmer of rainbow light, taking the notebook and pictures with her. Mae shook her head to clear it as she stood to face the new threat approaching her from the end of the alley.
Hodgins was walking toward her, holding the glowing crystal sphere between his fingers. A low buzzing sounded in her ears, and she felt her stomach roil and heave. She scrambled to her feet.
“You were warned, Mae. You were warned, but you would not listen, so I’m going to show you what kind of people we are. I am going to show how far we will go, and how easy it is for those with power.” He held the glowing stone in front of his face. “Come to me,” he ordered her.
Her body went rigid as the glow of the stone increased. She took a stiff step forward, and then another.
The ringing bells of one of the streetcars filled her ears, high and urgent. She kept moving toward Hodgins, who was covered in sweat and starting to pant. He held the glowing stone at eye level. “Come to me,” he said again.
Mae gritted her teeth and tried to focus on the streetcar’s ringing bell behind her. Mae held her body rigid, refusing to take another step. Hodgins took a step toward her. Great rivulets of perspiration were running down his face, as if he were straining against something. Mae tried to tear her eyes away from the glowing sphere but could not. In desperation she bit down hard on the inside of her lip. A burst of blood and pain filled her mouth. She cried out and blinked. The connection between her and Hodgins broke.
She turned and ran, seeking sanctuary in the yellow machine waiting for her on the corner, its door open wide. Mae leaped into the car and looked over her shoulder.
Hodgins knelt on the ground, holding his chest and gasping as if he had just run a mile. He looked from Mae to the streetcar, his expression one of shock and, Mae realized, a little fear.
“Ten cents, please.”
Mae dropped her dime in the fare box. She watched Hodgins out the window as the red door closed and the big machine rolled away. Once Hodgins was gone from view and Mae was sure Ilona was nowhere nearby, she allowed her body to have its way.
Mae fell to the floor, shaking in fear.
Dear Wall,
They turned the hot water off in my bathroom. I turned on the shower and all I got was cold. What is the point? I hate them all. I wonder if I could catch a bug and send it down the drain with a message? That might work. Bugs get in everywhere and no one notices. I hope there are still some alive. It’s been cold at night. I know this because I don’t have any heat in my room.
Elise brought me breakfast this morning. The brown-haired male mage was with her. She called him Robert, so at least I know part of his name, not that it is enough to conjure with. They’re being extra attentive now. It must be getting close to time for whatever it is they’re planning. Are you words ready? We may have to move fast.
I’ve finished working with the picture of Mae Malveaux. All I need is to place five drops of my blood on it and set it afire. Of course, the smoke needs to get outside, or the sending will never get past the wards in this house. I’m still not sure how I’m going to manage it since Elise is careful to always be between me and the fireplaces when we leave my room.
I think maybe another day or so and I’ll have enough of you words to make the spell work.
Mae was most of the way through repacking her two largest suitcases when Jill came home from work.
“Mae! Mae, I’m home,” Jill called up the stairs.
Mae wiped her eyes and stuffed more of her possessions into the larger rolling suitcase. She had no plan except to run.
“Mae?” Jill’s voice grew louder as she climbed the stairs toward Mae’s room. “Are you here?”
“Yeah,” Mae called back. She zipped the first suitcase and started filling the other.
“What’s all this?” Jill asked from the doorway.
Mae refused to face her. She kept packing the second suitcase, trying to jam as much as possible into it. “I can’t stay here. I have to go. I hav
e to go away.”
Jill stepped up next to her. “What happened?”
“I have to leave. I have to go before they—” Mae gasped, on the verge of hyperventilating. Tears spilled from her eyes as she sank to the floor and leaned on the futon. She could not breathe or think.
Jill sat down on the floor next to her. “Mae, I need you to tell me what happened today.”
Mae shook her head violently. “No. No, the less you know the better. If I go away, they’ll leave you alone.”
“Mae—”
Mae raised her head and took a deep breath. “Jill, you have to let me leave, and you have to forget you ever knew me.”
“No.”
Mae grabbed Jill by the shoulders and drew her close, almost nose to nose. “Yes!” she hissed. “You have to. I need you to do this for me.”
Jill shook her head. “No. You need to calm down and explain. Tell me what happened, and then we’ll talk about this silly idea of yours.”
Slowly, over the course of the next half hour, Jill gently coaxed the words out of her with whispered encouragement and understanding touches. When she was done, Mae was calmer, but still determined to put as much distance as possible between the danger she was in and Jill.
Jill was quiet for several moments, digesting what Mae had said. “Bill Hodgins, huh?”
“You know him?” Mae asked.
Jill nodded. “I’ve seen him in the law library a few times. He’s done some work for my family.” Jill frowned. “Where exactly are you planning to go?”
Mae sighed and shook her head. All the bravery and recklessness she had felt during her confrontation with Hodgins was gone, washed away by the hard reality of magic that had—if only for a moment—taken control of her body. “I don’t know. I thought I’d get a room someplace for a few days. Maybe close my bank account and buy a ticket to a new city. Start over someplace where there are no impossible streetcars, no animated corpses of twelve-year-old girls, no—”
“No what?” Jill asked in a quiet voice.
“No magic,” Mae said softly. “But that’s not how it’s going to happen is it?”
Jill shrugged. “I don’t know. I said I like weird. I never claimed to be an expert at it. What I do know, or at least what I believe, is that you can’t run from things.”
Mae turned her head and looked at Jill. “Even when those things are trying to kill you?”
Jill frowned and nodded. “I think especially if those things are trying to kill you.”
“Well, that’s just silly,” Mae said, looking away from Jill and fixing her eyes on the wall opposite them.
“We are a silly race, we humans,” Jill said in a deadpan voice. She straightened and turned to face Mae. “If you’re running away, I’m coming with you.”
Mae exhaled a frustrated breath and looked up at the ceiling. “That would kind of defeat the purpose of me running away.”
“Safety in numbers, I say. Besides, who says I’ll be any safer with you gone? They obviously know you’re living here and we’re at least close friends.”
“Jill, I think I like you—”
“Good. I like you too. Maybe it’s time I took you home and showed you to my mother.”
“Don’t interrupt. I think I like you. In fact, I’m pretty sure I like you a lot. I don’t want you to be dead.”
“Well I don’t want to see you dead either. In fact, I vote that if anyone is going to do any dying, it be the other guys.”
Mae blew out a long breath. She sat up straight and looked at the floor. “Tell you what. I promise not to run and hide in a deep hole, if you promise to come away with me this weekend. We can go someplace out of the cities, put some space between us and Hodgins, and think about what we want to do about this mess. Maybe we can stay at a bed and breakfast in Stillwater or Red Wing. It would be a good way for both of us to fall off the radar for a couple of days.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.” Jill regarded her. “Does that mean I can change and clean up without worrying that you’re going to disappear while I’m in the shower?”
“I promise I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Good. I was worried that I was going to need to handcuff you to the plumbing or something while I tried to talk some sense into you.”
Mae raised an eyebrow. “You have handcuffs?”
Jill stood. With a smirk on her face, she reached down to offer Mae a hand up from the floor. “That’s kind of personal for this stage in the relationship, don’t you think?”
Mae took her hand and stood. “You’re the one who brought it up.” She looked down at the mess on the floor. “Damn. I’m going to have to unpack again.”
“You cook dinner while I wash up, and I’ll help you with this mess later.”
Mae laughed. It caught her by surprise. She thought she would never laugh like that again after this afternoon. “You just want an excuse to paw through my underwear.”
Jill lowered her head, letting her black hair fall forward after releasing it from its ponytail. She gave Mae a come-hither smile. “Damned straight. And Mae, my handcuffs are lined with faux-leopard fur, just so you know.” She turned sharply on her heel, hair fanning out on her shoulders as she swished toward the bathroom.
Mae laughed again and walked downstairs to the kitchen.
Dear Wall,
Tonight Chrysandra held out her hand and said, “Pull my finger.”
Chrysandra never speaks, but today she did. It was rough and raspy. I think she doesn’t really breathe, so she has to remember to inhale and exhale if she wants to talk.
Her voice caught me by surprise and I knocked over my chair trying to get away from her. She just sat there, holding her discolored hand out to me. She smiled at me with her yellow teeth and black lips. I wonder if they could be using her to keep me in line. You know, something like, “Here is how you will end your days if you don’t do as we say.” It could be that kind of thing, but I doubt it.
I started to reach out and do it, then I realized her finger would likely pop off in my hand. I shook my head and told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.
She laughed. It was croaky and wheezy, but it was a laugh. Then she looked at me with her milk-white, washed-out eyes and would not stop laughing, even after she forgot to breathe and the laugh became a choking gurgle.
It seemed like ages before Elise came and took her away.
Mae felt Jill lean over her shoulder as she loaded the last of the plates into the dishwasher. Jill’s breath was on her neck, tickling her ear and cheek. Mae smiled up at Jill.
“This is really why I want you to live here,” Jill said.
“You invited me to live with you for my mad domestic skills?”
Jill wagged her eyebrows and stood back. “You know it.”
Mae closed the dishwasher door and set it to start in four hours, long after both of them would be in bed. She followed Jill, who had picked up their wine glasses and the half-empty bottle of chardonnay from the dining table, to the living room.
“I think,” Jill said as she set the glasses and bottle down, “we should change into comfy clothes, turn on a trashy movie and ignore the world outside.”
Mae nodded. “I like it.”
“Cool. First one back to the couch picks the trashy movie.”
Mae did not bother rushing. She knew Jill, manic to pick the worst movie on-demand had to offer, would find a way to reach the couch first. In fact, Mae realized Jill might make it back to the couch before Mae made it upstairs to change.
“That was your cue to squeal and run for the stairs,” Jill called down from her room.
Mae laughed as she reached the landing. Jill was already changed into a pair of red and green tartan pajama pants and a T-shirt with the fading words “Storm Chaser” across the front.
“I concede,” Mae said.
“You’re no fun. I’m going to pick something truly awful to watch as your punishment.”
“You do that. I’ll be right down.�
��
Mae dug through the clothes on the floor and found her favorite sweatpants, all faded gray with the elastic at the ankles pulled out. She grabbed a white T-shirt off the floor and changed into it. The sound and smell of popcorn being prepared reached her as she started back down the stairs.
“Ready?”
“Sure. What did you pick?”
Jill nodded toward the television screen.
“You spent three ninety-five on a slasher flick with a pirate?”
“Undead, revenge-seeking, zombie pirate. Don’t worry, it will be awful. That’s the point. Get the lights.”
“Uh-huh,” Mae said, turning off the lights and settling on the couch next to Jill. She reached for the popcorn. It was hot and smothered in something resembling butter.
“Napkins?” Mae asked, looking for something to wipe her greasy hand on.
Jill raised an eyebrow. “That’s why God made cheap pajama pants.”
“Fine.” Mae reached over and cleaned her hand on Jill’s pants.
Jill laughed like a loon and pushed the button on the remote to start the movie. Mae was determined to make the best of it, no matter how bad the movie.
An hour and a half later she knew it had been a futile effort.
“The problem was,” Jill said, stretching and shifting position, “if the entire pirate ship’s crew settled down in that village and their descendants all still live there, they must have been an inbred lot. That’s why they were all too stupid to survive. No branches on the family tree.”
“The problem,” Mae corrected, “was the producers and director were just looking to make a fast buck off the pirate craze and apparently hired some random high school film class to make a movie. But you know what the real problem is?”
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