Harmony Black (Harmony Black Series Book 1)

by Craig Schaefer

  “I’m sorry,” I told Halima. “Did you just say that you could help us, but you won’t?”

  She swiveled on her stool, turning to face us.

  “I’m afraid that’s correct. You are very brave young women, but I won’t be responsible for your deaths.”

  “We’re brave young women with guns,” Jessie said flatly.

  Halima chuckled. “And that is why I know you aren’t ready. Pitting gunpowder against the machinery of the universe. Tell me, what do you even know of this place, this House of Closets?”

  “Just what I told you on the phone,” I said. “Edwin Kite conned a demon into building it for him, and he turned it into some kind of energy siphon. He can’t be forced out; he can only leave under his own power—and he won’t do that because the second he sets foot back on Earth, Adramelech is waiting to turn him into a charcoal briquette.”

  “Which doesn’t stop us from walking into his house and sanctioning his ass right there on his living room rug,” Jessie said. “We don’t need him alive. In fact, it works out best for everybody involved if we permanently revoke his breathing license.”

  “You assume he needs to breathe,” Halima said. “You assume far too much.”

  “Then clarify it for us,” I told her.

  Her stool scraped against the tile floor as she pushed it back, standing up. She talked as she walked, clasping her hands behind her back and pacing the aisle between tables.

  “I once entertained a brief fascination with these . . . otherspaces. Worlds abutting our own—some entire universes unto themselves, others no bigger than this room. Hell is the best-known example, regrettably enough. The small ones, the pocket worlds crafted by deliberate magic, rather than forming naturally—they are defined by their creators. You are imagining a literal house. A place of wood and concrete, glass and nails. A dangerous mistake.”

  Jessie put her hands on her hips. “So what is it, then?”

  “An extension of Edwin Kite’s mind and soul. If he’s truly mastered his little kingdom, it will respond to his every thought and desire. Everything you take for granted in this world, even the very laws of physics, will be subject to his whimsy. How will you fight that, hmm? How will your little guns help when he turns your blood to gasoline, or the air in your lungs to concrete?”

  “I know some magic, too,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. Facing down monsters was one thing. Traveling to another dimension, though? That was outside my skill set.

  “Not in his realm, you won’t. You might as well try to tear down a skyscraper with your bare hands. From the inside.”

  “You’d be amazed,” Jessie said, “how much damage I can do with my bare hands.”

  Halima spun in midstride, stopping still, fixing her gaze upon Jessie’s turquoise eyes.

  “No. I wouldn’t. I can see right through you, Agent Temple, down to the thing slumbering in your heart. Do you think it’ll help you there? Edwin Kite’s house represents his own evil, animal hungers made manifest. When your beast awakens, smelling blood, do you think it will fight against him . . . or for him?”

  Jessie didn’t have an answer for that. Not a verbal one. She just locked eyes with Halima, glaring.

  “Halima,” I said, “two children have been kidnapped. A third’s been marked with Edwin Kite’s brand, and the last person who suffered that fate just blew his brains out right in front of us. If we don’t do this, if we don’t take this chance, Kite will get away with it. And he’ll do it again and again, and he won’t ever stop because men like him never do. He thinks he’s untouchable. Help us to prove him wrong.”

  I approached her, standing almost toe to toe, searching in her deep hazel eyes.

  “If you won’t help us, we’ll keep searching until we find someone who will. The one thing we won’t do is let this go. And right now, with every hour that slips by, our chances of getting those two kids back alive gets smaller and smaller. We know the risks. It doesn’t matter. This is our job.”

  She studied me, silent, for a moment. Then she let out a sigh and walked back to her stool.

  “No promises,” she said, “but let’s see what I can do. Check that cupboard—should be a few bricks of modeling clay. I don’t work in wicker.”

  We paced, and waited, and watched the clock while Halima crafted her beacon. She rolled a cylinder of stiff gray modeling clay, first recruiting Jessie to knead it until it was malleable, and flattened the ends. With Jeremiah Kite’s journals opened at her side and all three wicker balls lined up in a neat row under her magnifying glass, Halima slowly worked at the clay cylinder with a stainless-steel dental pick.

  “The spell,” she said with thinly veiled distaste, “is overcomplicated. What we’re building, at its core, is a transmitter. A simple device to send a simple message, bursting across the veil of worlds.”

  She gestured toward the wicker balls. “The shared sequences on each beacon, the formulas that don’t change? That’s where Edwin Kite is. The variant numbers pinpoint the beacon’s location on this side. Where are you going to trigger it?”

  Good question. One I should have considered earlier.

  “Can’t use any of the houses he’s already hit,” Jessie said. “Kite or the Bogeyman might figure out something’s up.”

  “Has to be a house in Talbot Cove, and it has to be empty.” I snapped my fingers. “I know who can find us one.”

  I called Ellen Garner.

  “Thank God,” she said. “Tell me you have good news. The dog’s been barking his head off all night, and Jacob keeps thinking he sees . . . things outside, in the dark.”

  “We’re working on it. I wouldn’t worry: Nyx is a little too busy hunting Edwin to be stalking you right now. Just sit tight. Listen, I need a favor. Your husband works for the bank, right?”

  “Yes, he’s the manager, but what does—”

  “So he has access to loan records?”

  “Of course.”

  “I need a property listing,” I told her. “A foreclosure, in Talbot Cove. Needs to be a freestanding house, no current occupants. And it needs at least one closet.”

  “Hold on,” she said, and pulled the phone away from her mouth as she called out. “Honey? Are you on the computer?”

  She put Jacob on the line, and I walked him through it. It didn’t take long at all: he found a little single-family home, empty for almost a year, on the south edge of town. Perfect. Within minutes we not only had an address, but the house’s exact latitude and longitude. Bent over her magnifying glass, scribing intricate glyphs into the clay cylinder, Halima paused just long enough to give me a thumbs-up before getting back to work.

  “So you really think you can stop this guy?” Jacob asked, sounding like he almost dared to hope.

  “We have a chance,” I said. “We’re going to do everything we can, I promise.”

  He fell silent.

  “The dog,” he said, sounding quizzical.

  “Dog?”

  “He stopped barking.”

  I heard a window shatter, glass exploding, and Ellen’s high-pitched scream. The phone rattled as Jacob threw it to the carpet. There were pounding footfalls and a vicious crack that sounded like breaking wood.

  “Suitcases by the door?” I heard Nyx hiss. “Boxes of memories? This one thinks you were trying to escape without paying your due.”

  “We don’t owe you anything!” Ellen shrieked at her. “Not until you—”

  A short, sharp slap silenced her, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. I heard slow, heavy footfalls, and the sound of the phone lifting from the floor. Nyx’s rasping breath flooded my eardrum.

  “Is this the wolf pup,” she asked, “or the frightened little witch?”

  “This is Special Agent Harmony Black of the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” I told her, “and if you’ve hurt either of those people—”

  “Hurt them? Yes. Kill them? No. They are more valuable alive. To you, at least, no?”

  I squeeze
d my free hand into a fist. Jessie came over, leaning close to listen in.

  “What do you want, Nyx?”

  “This one has been watching. Saw you meet the Garners, saw you leave town. Has been here, in the dark, listening close.”

  “Shouldn’t you be hunting Edwin Kite?”

  Nyx laughed.

  “That is exactly what this one is doing. Cannot figure out how to remove Kite from his demesne. Believes you have, though.”

  “We have an idea, that’s all. No guarantees.”

  “It is sufficient. You wish to protect the innocent, yes? Then you will capture Edwin Kite and make a gift of him. Once this one has her target in custody, this one will release the Garners, unharmed. A trade: two lives, for a single damned soul. This one is generous, no?”

  “You want us to do your work for you?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re cheating.”

  “Losers complain of cheating and unfairness. Winners win. And Nyx always wins.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and cupped my hand over the receiver, looking to Jessie.

  “We don’t have time to pull off a rescue. The longer we wait on the beacon, the more likely Edwin is to find out Willie’s dead.”

  “Why a rescue anyway?” Jessie asked. “Nyx is gonna drag Edwin straight down to hell, which is exactly where we want to send him. So we grab him and we trade him for the Garners. Everybody wins.”

  “Remember what Ellen told us about Nyx’s price? She takes her target and the human who called her. You really think she’s gonna change her mind and play nice if we give her what she wants? We can’t risk that.”

  Jessie pressed her fist to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut.

  “Shit,” she said. “Okay, just . . . stall her. We’ll deal with this after we deal with Edwin, assuming we live that long.”

  I took my hand off the receiver.

  “I assume you heard my conversation with Jacob,” I said to Nyx.

  “This one has exquisite hearing.”

  “That address he gave me. Be there, on the street outside, at dawn. And bring the Garners with you. If either one of them is injured or dead, all deals are off.”

  “This one will treat them like kittens . . . and not drown them in a sack, unless forced to. Attempt any betrayal and they will be the ones punished for it. This one knows ways of keeping a human alive, flayed and screaming, for weeks. And would be happy to demonstrate.”

  “Be there,” I snapped, “at dawn, with the Garners.”

  I hung up on her. There wasn’t anything else to say. My lip curled in disgust.

  “Because the stakes weren’t high enough already,” Jessie said. “Okay, so how do we hand over Edwin and get the Garners away from her at the same time?”

  “That’s plan D.”

  “Plan D?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “we figure it out while we’re driving. Dr. Khoury? I don’t know how much of that conversation you caught, but—”

  “Almost done,” she said, focused on the cylinder like a laser beam. The steel pick turned in her hand, scooping back tiny rows of clay and leaving intricate Sumerian glyphs in its wake.

  I hoped she was right. We were burning moonlight.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Halima finished her version of the beacon. She sealed it in an airtight plastic baggie and gave me a five-minute crash course in how to set it off.

  “Consider it a miniature engine,” she said. “All it needs is a bit of gasoline—or in this case, a tiny spark of magical energy—and it will fulfill its purpose. Simply feed it and let it work.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. This means a lot to us.”

  “Salaam alaikum.” She bowed her head slightly. “Be swift and safe, and sure of purpose. I hope to hear of your safe return.”

  Then we were off. Even with Jessie behind the wheel, driving the SUV like all hell was chasing us down, it’d be almost an hour’s drive back to the south side of Talbot Cove.

  I called April and filled her in. She hadn’t been sleeping. I got the impression she didn’t sleep much at all. Kevin, on the other hand, was out like a light and refused to budge until she rolled over and yanked the sheets off his bed.

  “Now he’s moving,” she said, sounding satisfied. “And I saw that gesture, young man!”

  “Can you meet us at the house?” I asked her. “And bring my luggage from the motel? We’ve got no time to lose. Nyx will be there come sunrise, and if we don’t have Edwin—”

  “Say no more. I’ll see if I can find a taxi service still operating this time of night. It may take some doing. Another problem: we’ll need some equipment to prepare the staging ground. Basic hardware-store fare, nothing too elaborate, but nothing in Talbot Cove is open this late.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. Hold tight. I’ll call you right back.”

  I got Cody’s voice mail twice in a row. He picked up on my third call.

  “Yeahwhuh?” he mumbled, breathy.

  “Cody. It’s Harmony. We’ve got a line on the perp. We’re finishing this. Tonight. If that offer to help is still open, I sure could use it.”

  That woke him up. I could hear him jump out of bed, covers rustling.

  “What’s going on? You need backup?”

  “Sort of. Go to the Talbot Motor Lodge and pick up our assistants; April, you met earlier. They’re going to need some supplies. How tight are you with the owner of that hardware store on Main Street?”

  “Hank?” he asked. “He’s one of Barry’s poker buddies. Why?”

  “Get his ass out of bed and have him meet you there. He’s opening up early today. Tell him we’ll pay double the sticker price for anything my people need to buy, plus he’ll have Uncle Sam’s undying gratitude.”

  “I’m on it,” he said. I heard him tugging on his pants. “Anything else you need?”

  I almost said no, then I caught the side eye from Jessie.

  “Shotguns,” I said. “Bring all your shotguns.”

  The A-frame house had barely been lived in, and loved even less. Thick curtains of dust caked the windows, and three months’ worth of crabgrass choked the front lawn to death.

  We pulled up behind a pair of squad cars. April met us out on the sidewalk while behind her, Cody and Kevin lugged plastic bags and armloads of loose lumber into the house.

  “We don’t have half the equipment I’d like for an operation of this nature,” April said, shooting a dubious glance at the house. “We should have the building wired for film and sound, heat sensors at every door—”

  “Well, as usual,” Jessie said, “we don’t get to play with the cool toys. We’ll make up for it with some creativity, a little elbow grease, and a buttload of two-by-fours. You did get the buttload of two-by-fours, right?”

  “I believe you specified at least twenty. Is that equivalent to a buttload? I just want to be certain I’m following your precise scientific methodology.”

  “Yeah, close enough,” Jessie said.

  “I also brought the chalk you asked for,” April told me. “Will five sticks be enough?”

  I turned and surveyed the street. I’d come up with a plan to deal with Nyx, but it was more of a desperation play than a stroke of tactical genius.

  “It’ll have to be,” I said.

  Kevin strode back out of the house, hopping down the porch steps, with Barry right behind him. I stifled a groan; I’d hoped to keep him out of this entirely. Kevin pointed back toward the open front door.

  “Okay, we’ve got two floors with a nice open layout. First floor has one closet just off the foyer, and a walk-in pantry in the kitchen. Do pantries count?”

  “Better safe than sorry,” I said. I held the plastic baggie with the beacon in both hands, gripping it by the seal like it was a bomb that could go off at any moment.

  “Two, then. Second floor has a master bedroom and a guest room, one closet in each, and a linen closet in the hall.”

  “Question?” Barry said, holding up his hand. He looked a little lost.
>
  Jessie cracked her knuckles. “Okay, time is not on our side here. What do you think, Mayberry? Board ’em all up except for one of the upstairs bedrooms?”

  “Don’t call me Mayberry,” I said, “and yes. April and Kevin can cover the bottom of the stairs, in case it gets past us.”

  “Ooh, a desperate last stand,” Kevin said. “I just love those.”

  Barry held his hand a little higher. “Uh, question? Why are we boarding up closets?”

  “We aren’t,” I told him. “Go home. We’ve got this.”

  “This is my town, Harmony. Whatever’s going on here, it’s my job to be involved. I mean, you called my deputy but you didn’t call me? If Cody hadn’t needed my help with the hardware store—”

  I sighed. “Barry, you aren’t equipped for what’s going on here. Please, trust me on that. Just go home and wait. I’ll call you when it’s over, and I’ll tell you whatever I can.”

  He turned away. Took a few steps toward his squad car. Then stood still.

  “This is about Willie, isn’t it? The police report I gave to Jeremiah Kite. You still don’t trust me.”

  “No, Barry, it—”

  He turned around to face me, red-faced, eyes glistening.

  “And you’re probably right not to. I fucked up, I know that. It was thirty damn years ago, and I’ve woken up knowing it every single day since, wondering what might’ve been different if I’d stood up to the Kites. Afraid of what could have happened, and regretting what did.”

  “He threatened your family.” I took a step toward him. “I don’t blame you for that.”

  He took a long look into my eyes.

  “But I was wrong, wasn’t I? Jeremiah Kite wasn’t the Bogeyman. That’s what you’re doing here tonight. You’re not after a copycat at all. It’s the same man.”

  I gritted my teeth. He still thought we were hunting a human kidnapper, and I couldn’t tell him the truth. Not the whole truth, at least. Some of it, I guess he’d earned.

  “That’s right. Jeremiah was involved in the kidnappings. He helped with the cover-up, but he wasn’t the man who took my sister. The real Bogeyman is still on the loose. But, Barry, you don’t understand—”