by Sara Hanover
“Renewal?”
“Yes.” The professor topped his coffee cup with a bit of cream and sugar to it. “Don’t ask me about the process, I’m not privy to his ritual. Most of them are a bit unsavory, but I do believe he would have amended it to fit his new path of redemption.”
I fussed. “There have been missing and slaughtered animals all over the neighborhood.”
“Not Steptoe’s doing! No, more likely that of the minions sent to keep watch on you.”
I felt a little better. “You’re certain?”
“Fairly certain.”
I settled back in my chair, aware that he wouldn’t say anything more on that subject and found myself glad he didn’t.
My mother let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Problem, Mary?”
“I’m sorry that Hiram and the others have withdrawn their support. I wish he would have finished the dissertation and understood it better. He’s still distant.”
“But you’re letting it stand?”
“I am, Meyer. I worked hard on it and think it’s of benefit. Perhaps one day we’ll have a chance to meet the other side face-to-face and value each other. Who knows? It might even come about with Tessa’s help.”
“Oh?” The professor gave me his attention.
“I put in for my major, cultural and ethnic studies. I want to help the peoples of the world accept one another. Diplomatically, if no other way.”
“Commendable. And your abilities may be very helpful in that. Or not. You might be considered part of the enemy.”
“I’ll face that if it comes to it,” I told him.
“Your obstinacy can be an asset as well.” He rested both elbows on the tabletop and leaned forward. “Do you think you can definitely verify it was Remy you saw?”
I’d almost forgotten her. I shook my head. “Couldn’t see her face well enough. She ladled out bits of vampiric shroud here and there, tagging different people, without any real goal that I could see. She even hit Hiram, but I cleaned him up. He had a marking, here,” and I indicated my shoulder.
“How?”
“Same thing I used on Malender. Salt.”
“Basic. Cheap. Not often a method that would come to mind.”
“Better than garlic and holy water?”
“Measurably better. The other two don’t have many results that I’ve seen. Rowan wood crossbow bolts are remarkably effective, however.”
“And who has one of those?!”
Gregory waggled an eyebrow at me.
“Of course, you would,” I conceded.
As I spoke, the side door to the kitchen opened with a swoop of frigid air, and Carter stomped inside. “Would what?” He’d evidently caught what I’d said.
“Have a crossbow,” the professor answered him. “Come in, come in. You’ve a choice of hot tea and brandy or some fresh brewed coffee.”
“Yes.” Carter flashed a grin as he sat.
My mother quickly fixed him a mug of one and teacup of the other. He shot the coffee mug in two gulps, black, and then wrapped his hand about the tea and inhaled the smell of Earl Grey plus some decent brandy wafting off it.
“Cold out?”
“Of course. Too cold to snow, they tell me.”
“We’ve weather moving in. That’ll change in a day or two.”
Carter looked dubiously at the professor but did not dispute him. My mother slid a warm biscuit with butter nearby and he gave her a grateful look. Half a biscuit in, he noticed the silence the rest of us sat in. “It’s too quiet. What’s happening?”
“We had an attack here at the house. We lost Steptoe and Goldie as they tried to defend the home.”
He dropped his cup, caught and juggled it in time, and set it down in its saucer with a rattle. “Dead?”
“And gone. We can only be happy that they kept the place from being infiltrated. The house harbors nothing. It is safe.”
“That must have been some battle.”
“Brutal but quick,” I said, my voice thickening as tears brimmed in my eyes again. “Over in minutes. Vicious. Nothing left but shreds.”
Carter reached out, pulled me in, and held me close without saying a word. He knew, just knew, how I must be feeling. The tears fell, but I did not sob because he steadied me. I listened to his heartbeat and felt that warm glow he’d left inside me heat up just a touch, so that I would know. After long moments, the shoulder of his shirt damp, he pulled back.
“So . . . what are we going to do about it?”
“The Butchery,” I told him. “I think his power center is at the Butchery, but not the bar. He . . . he transcends time, somehow.”
“And you’ve been there. We’ve discussed that. In the time-displaced building.”
“Very eerie and yes. I’ve been in and out twice now. Once in a dream and once being pursued. I think he opened the door to me.” Carter knew, of course, but my mother and Gregory needed to be filled in. I uncurled my hand on the table and rubbed my stone. “He’ll do it again. Third times pays for all, right?”
“Carter seems to be familiar with this, but I am not.”
“I can’t comprehend that,” my mother piped in. “Karaoke nights and all? I know it’s popular with the university students.”
“It’s popular with everybody. But it has two faces, and the second one is grim. I had a nightmare about it, went in search of . . . I don’t remember what now . . .” I did remember, too clearly, but I wasn’t about to tell her what I’d encountered. “I walked in and it had reverted to its original purpose, a meat and carcass butcher’s shop, from old days. But people hung on its hooks, people in terrible pain, and I couldn’t help them. I almost lost myself in there.” I paused. “Evelyn called me to an exit I hadn’t been able to find, and I fled. It was a dream, so her presence seemed logical at the time. I think I saw souls, but I can’t be sure. Then, the other week, when a car came to get me for the Societas Obscura meeting, I got into it. It was the wrong car, but I had no idea. I didn’t realize it until we neared Old Town, and I was locked in. I busted out and ran through the back alleys. Something stalked me, and it took everything I had to evade it as it tried to herd me toward the Butchery.”
“You didn’t call for help?”
I hated to see the fear and concern on my mother’s face. “I couldn’t. The whole area seemed to be a dead zone. My phone went dead. The stone leeched away at me until I nearly dropped, and then suddenly, everything came back to normal. I don’t want to go back, but it seems clear that it’s the center of strong magic. I’ve been taunted to return. When I go, I intend to take some serious firepower with me.”
“Some would say,” Meyer suggested, “that we give him the stone and walk away.”
I narrowed my eyes as I looked over at him. “Give a powerful being even more power? No one in the state . . . maybe even the coast . . . would be safe.”
“I’m glad you realize that.” The professor gave me a nod. “I wanted to be sure we had a fighter.”
“Fighter, hell. I said I’d cut his heart out, and I will!”
My mother stirred. “I’d rather you didn’t get that close.”
“This is one enemy we can’t fight at a distance. And it looks as though we won’t have aid. The Society won’t. Hiram’s clans are out. Only Goldie would have answered our call, and she’s gone. Simon, too. That pretty much leaves the three of us.” I wiped my face dry before adding, “And Malender.”
“Mal?”
I tapped my index finger on the table in front of the professor. “He owes me a life-debt.”
Carter asked sharply, “You didn’t redeem that for Jocosta.”
“Tried not to.”
“You’re sure.”
“Pretty sure.” He was there, but evidently the words exchanged by me and Malender had been private. Still, I thought
I could count on Mal.
“Well then. He’ll be formidable as well, and we know he has a score to settle against the Master. Added incentive.”
Carter finished his drink. “Intend to include him in our planning?”
“No. Best not. I think Tessa should summon him when we need him. Otherwise, he might find a way to back out, saying that he needs to be neutral as Justice. We call him in when we need him, Tessa tells him she’s redeeming the life-debt, and he can’t forbid her.”
“We want to be very careful where Malender is concerned.”
“I saw the scourge. He has become the powerful deity of old, but I’m just as willing to believe he would rather not be the person he has been created to be. We can’t, however, promise him change. He is as he must be.”
Wow. That sounded like the handsome being was just as imprisoned as he had always been, although by a different master.
The professor patted my wrist. “You’re not condemning him. Malender will fight for you if given half a chance, and I think he will find it fulfilling.”
“Really?”
“It’s hard to tell with demigods, especially one that’s been as hidden away as he has for eons, but he knows the world has changed while he has not.”
“Demigods fade because no one believes in them anymore?”
“Sometimes.” He pushed his chair back. “Now, given what we saw at the swearing-in, we may have Remy to contend with as well as the Master.”
“Remy?” repeated Carter, stunned.
I nudged him. “Surely you saw her working the crowd?”
“No. One of the other guards did mention a pushy woman, but I didn’t think anything of it. A lot of the onlookers seemed a bit discontented. We did a lot of calming down and soothing. If you saw and recognized her, we’ll have to assume it’s because she wanted it. Decoy, maybe.”
“Precisely. Remy stirred the pot. Or someone very like her.”
“But she’s dead.”
“Undead,” I corrected him. “Probably.”
“I can handle her,” Gregory stated.
“Like you did last time? I don’t think so.” They had been lovers once, I knew, from when the country and both of them had been relatively young. Magic ages mortals differently. The last time I’d seen Remy alive, she’d been vibrant and beautiful in her way, and younger even than my mother, and the professor had been a crusty and irritable eighty-something. I’d found out a little bit about their history the hard way. She’d nearly killed me more than once. Saved me at least once on another occasion and warned me about shifting alliances. Experience told me she should know, if anyone, about changing sides.
Gregory’s face blushed a little, and he turned a bit so my mother couldn’t stare him full in the face. “Another lifetime ago.”
She leaned toward him, their shoulders brushing. “I understand that.” She cleared her throat. “If we’re picking this battle, and the Butchery has to be approached through its veil, it seems that we have to have bait. I’d rather it not be Tessa.”
“I agree, but we may have no other way to force his hand.” Carter’s expression hardened.
I drew a circle on the table in front of me. “I don’t think we’re going to need to do that.”
“What do you have in mind?” Carter’s tone went even, but underneath the tabletop, our knees touched, letting me feel the tension running through him.
“Evelyn opened the door out for me last time. I think she can open the door in.”
“Statler? Why on earth her? And how?”
“Because, professor, she’s a seer, and a rather good one. She doesn’t channel it often—it seizes her—but she can see into times and places others can’t. Forward and backward. That sounds like an ability we can use to access the Butchery. She can see when that door opens and get us through it. She’s been incredibly accurate.”
“And if you have Evelyn,” Carter added, “you’ll get Hiram.”
“That, too. A very upset Hiram.”
“Seers don’t work like that.”
“She has done it before. I think she can do it again. How else can she see into the future? And Hiram won’t let her come along by herself.”
“It could be a great deal riskier than any of you think. None of you have seen an Iron Dwarf go berserk. I have. He could be a devastating ally . . . or he could aim all that destruction at us. You’d have to convince Evelyn it’s necessary, and I’m not at all sure you’re up to that.” Gregory reached for his coffee mug, noticed it was empty and set it back down with a clatter.
“She’s new to the idea of magic, but she gets it. A lot happened while you were gone.”
“So it seems.” He checked his wristwatch. This time I got a good look at it and found myself impressed at what might be a vintage Rolex. He must have some impressive hoards of goods hidden about the states that he’d put away through the ages. “It might be worth the peril. Understand, if anything happened to Evelyn, you’d have the clans down on our necks. If there’s anything left of us.”
I considered it before shaking my head. “You’re right. Too much to ask of her. I don’t want to be foolish or stupid.”
“It’s late. I suggest everyone retire and get whatever sleep they can. More plans and action to come tomorrow.” The professor stood briskly, the movements of a young man, and once again I found myself a little surprised by the new person he’d become.
My mother walked him to the front door while Carter stayed behind with me. He traced the outline of my face gently, brushing away a stray bit of hair, and smiled at me.
“You’re not talking me out of this.”
He made a sound that was not quite a chuckle or a grunt. “I didn’t think I could. This is for your father as well as Steptoe and Goldie.”
“Damn right. I don’t know how my father got mixed up in this, but he did, and if there’s any chance I can free him by bringing down N—the old Master, I will.”
“There’s a reason he hasn’t been removed. I can almost certainly tell you that, every decade or so, there’ve been a number of attempts, and all have failed. I’ve been on assignment, trying to detail his various workings. He’s devious, calculating, and has no conscience whatsoever. He’ll be difficult to stop.”
“We haven’t tried yet.” We leaned together, foreheads touching. “The stone will get us where we need to be.”
“He’ll see through any illusion.” His warm breath feathered across my face.
“It can be removed—if it wants to be. We know he covets it.” I kissed him, ever so slightly. “I’m betting that if the stone thinks it has an opportunity, any prospect at all, of inhaling some of that vampire magic, it will.”
“He’ll snatch it out of your fingers before you could blink.”
“Not if I’m Seeing. I won’t let him.”
He kissed me back. “Tessa. I think the professor’s right. We should go in without warning, and that means soon. We need some sleep and fresh ideas.”
“I have ideas.”
He did laugh then, backing away and standing up. “So do I, but not now, not tonight.”
“Chicken.”
“Bock, bock,” he said softly and made his way to the front of the house where my mother had evidently just said good night and stood framed in the porch light as Gregory drove away.
They gave each other a half hug, and I watched from the warm foyer as the winter evening tried its best to freeze our doorway. She closed the door firmly and locked it.
Mom faced me. “Ready for bed?”
“Yes, but I’m going downstairs first.”
She nodded. Hesitated half a beat before saying, “Don’t tell him. I’ll do that.”
“About what—oh. All right. That seems fair.”
“Thank you.”
She went upstairs, Scout following at her heels, evid
ently quite happy that somebody in the building had the good sense to head to bed.
I had business elsewhere. The cellar door creaked a bit as I opened it, and the light flickered twice before it steadied and shone truly. Both surprised me as did the feeling of spidery webs as I descended the steps. What the hell? I brushed away at my face, disliking the feeling, and then I realized I had blundered into a few of the milder wards protecting the basement room. Annoyed, I complained, “It’s me!”
Arms flailing a bit, I reached the stairs’ bottom and vigorously dusted myself off even though I knew the webs had to exist only in my imagination. I grumbled for a minute before raising my hand to search for my father, the Eyes open and looking.
I found no sign of him. My heart did a skip-beat of anxiety. “Dad?” I turned on my heel, scanning every inch, even the shadowy corners, of the room. Finally, I spotted what I both feared and hoped would be him: little more than a wavering mirage in the farthest corner away from me. Even my Sight showed little more in the way of detail. I wouldn’t have known what it was I saw except that I knew what I’d expected to find.
“That’s got to be you, Dad. Somehow. You’re scaring me, you know.”
The mirage strengthened a bit, coming nearer, and I felt a bit of the coldness that ghosts are supposed to bring with them. “You can’t give up like that. We’re very close to doing what we need to get you back.”
The faint chill danced across my face, brushing the hair off my forehead as if a hand reached out. The faintest whisper reached me. “I know . . .”
“You have to hang on.”
“The stone.”
Was he arguing with me? I could no longer hear him well enough to make out his tone. I could not see his transparent face with any expression. The agonizing thought that I was too late hit me. “Don’t give up! Don’t you dare quit on me.” I’d implored Steptoe with the same words. It hadn’t helped then. I feared it wouldn’t now.
“The stone.”
I cupped my hand to the empty air, stone flashing a bit in the artificial light, its marble depths showing creamy brown and obsidian and gold highlights against the parchment background. I’d often thought it would make a beautiful pendant, carved down, without its magical tendencies. The edges of the stone cooled, telling me my father touched it.