Later, as the crowd around the funeral home was thinning – people turning away from the death of a young man to return to the safety of their ongoing lives – Gloria glided away from her cluster of admirers toward him.
Neat trick in those heels, Karl thought and fought down the impulse to run.
Gloria smiled up into his dark eyes, put one hand on his shoulder for balance, and kissed his cheek gently.
“Dear Karl, I missed you last night,” she whispered in his ear before resting back on her heels. She linked one arm through his and tried to pull him along. “Walk me to my car.”
Karl refrained from pointing out that she had walked further away from her car by coming over to kiss him. Karl waited for the old flare of hunger. The desire that had led him to overlook, at first, her interest in the occult.
Now, despite the fact that she was glowing, her skin translucent, her body lush and perfect – resisting her was easy. Maybe her attractions were too practiced. Maybe he’d just grown up. Maybe he was too ill. Now, having her close to him, touching him, did not stir his body at all.
He glanced across the stone marked field and spotted his mother standing near her car looking about for him, and stopped resisting Gloria’s pull. Gloria’s bodyguard was standing next to a car two up from his mother.
“I was sitting Shiva,” he said putting more concentration into the job of staying upright now that Gloria was pulling him off balance. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Ah. That explains it.” Gloria smiled. “You must be so tired. Staying awake all night isn’t a good idea for someone in your delicate condition.”
“I’m fine,” mentally Karl cursed his mother and the gossip chain.
He hadn’t felt bad until now. Going without sleep hadn’t bothered him much at all. Maybe it was that he was used to being tired as hell. Anyway, was there anyone in town that didn’t know the state of his health?
“Have you been seeing a lot of Mike lately?” he asked.
“I saw him now and then,” said Gloria. “We were working together. Well, I’m working on Senator Thomas’s election committee; I’m his chief of staff, actually, and Mike … did some running around for us. You might consider changing your political affiliation, Karl. Not that we need your vote, but it would be nice to have your – more of your support.”
She smiled again, showing professionally straightened teeth.
Karl almost expected the light to “ting” off her smile just like in old movies.
“Mike …” he said. It was a safer topic than politics. He had no doubt that Gloria’s politics were as repugnant as her involvement in the occult.
“Oh, Mike was around,” she continued, still clutching Karl’s arm. He could feel the bite of her nails through the fabric of his suit, “but he was more of a puppy than a wolf. He lacked … the killer instinct. We knew he would never be a political raider, but he could always run with the pack.”
Karl’s breath caught in his throat and he stared at the woman on his arm, heart clenching in his chest. Gloria’s free hand pulled on a narrow silver chain from under her bright silk blouse. A small wolf dangled from the chain and caught the light. She shook out her hair and bared her teeth at him, a parody of a smile that chilled him to his bones.
“You really shouldn’t have kicked me out, Karl, dear. But hey, no hard feelings. After all this time I still feel we have a very special bond.”
She kissed him on the cheek again, leaving a lipstick stain, and waving to his mother, stalked off to a waiting limousine.
Karl stared after her, breathless, rubbing the mark off his face.
Mrs. Benn came to stand beside him and watched impassively as Gloria departed.
“Some people light up a room and you’re happy to see them,” said Mrs. Benn, “and some people just glow and make you feel warm just to be near. That one just has to be the center of attention and leaves me completely cold.”
Shaking off his sudden fear Karl kissed his mother gently on the cheek.
“You never did like her, did you?” he said.
“Not for two seconds. I was very glad when you kicked her out of your life.”
“I have an odd feeling she’s not as gone as I’d have liked,” muttered Karl.
Closing his hand over the silver wolf in his pocket he turned to help his mother into the car. He could not put a name to the chill that caught at his throat. Something about Gloria. Something about the wolves. His heart missed a beat when she had shown him that pendant. He hadn’t felt too tired when he’d come to the funeral; now he felt completely drained. Shaky with fatigue. Maybe he should accept his mother’s invitation to stay the night before driving back home. He stared up at the deep blue sky, watching clouds wander lazily overhead, and started shuddering.
“Karl. Karl! What is it?” cried his mother.
His hands clenched convulsively and he clung to the car door trying to stay upright. Several of the other mourners turned at the shrill tone of his mother’s voice and hurried across the grass toward them.
“I’m … I’m fine,” said Karl, as his knees turned to water and he sank toward the ground.
Before he could fall his mother inserted herself under his arm and Mr. Gregory appeared, taking his other side.
“I’m … just tired that’s all,” murmured Karl as the world went grey. “Tired.”
* * * * *
The next morning, feeling somewhat stronger and still itchy, Amber opened the front door of her aunt’s home and cursed, vigorously and at length. Her Uncle Robyn’s battered, powerless, disreputable VW van sat on the drive. She knew that somewhere – somewhere near – there were two Harleys, a comfortable and stylish silver Lexus, and a very gently aged vintage Rolls.
Her own beautiful black Aztec was, with hope, still sitting in the parking lot outside the bookstore waiting to be picked up.
Instead of giving her one of the better cars the house had given her Robyn’s VW. That more than anything else told her what the house thought of her contaminated state.
Near the drive Rust and Lightning were operating hedge trimmers and weed whackers. Amber stomped gracelessly down the stairs.
“Ready to go?” asked Lightning, putting down the hedge trimmer.
“Yeah. I suppose. Don’t I rate a better car?”
“Apparently not,” Rust grinned and shook his head. “Should have been more careful with your own.”
“I didn’t wreck the other car. I was taken away by ambulance.”
“The house isn’t happy with you right now,” said Lightning. “Be grateful you haven’t been given a roller skate with a missing wheel.”
“Well, Robyn swears that if his van isn’t driven every few days it forgets how. Perhaps you get the van to keep it in working shape while he’s away?” suggested Rust.
Amber made a rude noise. “Lucinda told me ages ago Robyn only says that because Lucinda won’t let him have any beer in the house so he drives to a bar twice a week.”
Rust shrugged and went back to his dandelion beheading.
“I don’t know about that,” he said, blushing.
Despite her annoyance Amber grinned. Did they really imagine that Lucinda was unaware of what her husband got up to? After all these years? Whenever Smoke or Robyn came over to New York with items that couldn’t be sent by mail, she always escorted them to the local cigar bars. Amber didn’t drink or smoke, but the guys enjoyed both.
Ah, well.
She opened the door of the grubby old camper, pushed the old baseball caps and other debris off the seat with a rolled up newspaper, and climbed in. Robyn’s VW camper had a top speed of thirty … downhill. The fuel indicator hadn’t worked since the Ford Administration, and the vehicle tended to shiver in alarm if asked to drive on highways. The doors didn’t lock and its key was lost forever.
And the seating was customized to suit Robyn DeGoode’s not quite five-foot frame.
The only good thing about the van was it would never be stolen. Who would eve
r want to try? Diving under the steering column Lightning twisted two exposed wires together and the van coughed to life. At Amber’s gesture Lightning climbed into the passenger seat.
“Sure you don’t want me to drive?” asked Lightning. “You’re the one who knocked her head yesterday.”
“Lightning, don’t take this the wrong way,” Amber smiled, “Actually, there’s no other way to take it, so learn to live with the pain. I’d have to be unconscious, or dead, before I’d let you drive me anywhere again.”
“Fair enough,” said Lightning, and drawing his baseball cap over his eyes, he folded his arms and settled back for a nap.
Amber climbed awkwardly into the driver’s seat and tried to adjust it. It wouldn’t move. With some wiggling around and cursing she was able to lean around the driver’s chair enough to see that at some point in the van’s history the driver’s seat had been welded to the floor. It wasn’t moving. Ever. Then she removed her shoes, just in case it was the half inch of heel that was stopping her from fitting comfortably and started cursing.
Lightning lifted the bill of his baseball cap. “Ready to go when you are,” he said.
“Oh, come over here and drive,” snarled Amber and wiggled her way out of the van. “And if I find out you’re responsible for us getting this van today, I’ll see to it you regret it!”
Once Amber was settled into the passenger seat Lightning sent them shuddering and squealing down the road to Laurenville.
When the van chugged up the hill overlooking Laurenville, Amber asked Lightning to pull to the side of the road, then she climbed out. She lifted the old car’s hood, guaranteeing that no one would come near her, and pulled out her cell phone for added realism. Then she turned to stare down into the valley.
Ignoring the guilt that suggested she should have done this on the first trip, she rested one hand on the van’s hot metal shell for an anchor and unfocused her outer eyes. High thin clouds drifted across the clear blue sky. Even this early, the day was burning and heat rose in waves from the road. Amber watched the ripples idly, allowing her eyes to lift with the waves. Minutes passed.
“What do you see?” asked Lightning.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Frowning, she cleared her mind and tried again. She watched the flights of birds, drifting insects, and dust motes all without result.
“I can’t believe it, Lightning,” she said after fifteen fruitless minutes ticked past. “They’ve built a town near no ley lines at all. Who would do anything that … that … ignorant? How could they find a place with no ley lines?”
She climbed back into the car and tapped her fingers on the door. It didn’t make sense. People instinctively built near paths of power. Churches, particularly, were usually located near intersecting ley lines. There were two churches she could see from her vantage point by the road, but no Ethereal power lines.
“You know, this is a nice location. Close to the ski slopes, close to the summer stuff, and yet the town’s depressed,” said Amber. “They’re probably wondering why visitors didn’t come back. Why their tourist traps don’t have many victims. Building a place near no ley lines means no one with imagination would ever feel attracted to this place. No. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. If that was the case why didn’t the town fail years ago? This place should be an old ghost town.”
Lightning pushed the van into gear and they headed down the road at the life threatening speed of twenty miles a decade.
Yesterday she had not paid any attention to the town, the people. Now she studied everything. She counted the strip malls’ painted over windows, the out of business gas stations, the tourist traps – closed for the season – all seasons. Even with the economy tanking there should have been more signs of life this time of day. Lightning turned into the bookstore parking lot and pulled to a stop next to her Aztec.
Lightning didn’t have to be told to stay clear of the door that had attacked her yesterday. Keeping his eyes averted he followed Amber as she ducked around the back of the van, climbed into the Aztec, and turned on the engine and the air-conditioning.
Amber rested her folded arms on the steering wheel and people-watched. Those who were walking down the street had relatively healthy, strong auras. Their minds were alert and interested. The ones who were leaving the bookstore were tired and contaminated.
“The only place I’ve ever seen worse than this is Heathrow Airport,” muttered Lightning. “This place feels dead.”
“Very.”
They waited and watched for the next two hours. Despite a dozen or so people entering the store they didn’t see anyone approach the semi-comatose sales associate at the desk to buy a book. Instead they presumably bought large coffees at the cafe and fell asleep within minutes. There was no sign of the manager and Amber wasn’t certain if that was good or bad.
“Maybe they’re putting something in the coffee,” suggested Lightning when Amber mentioned the sleeping customers, the barely moving staff.
“Can’t think why they’d drug them.” Amber frowned through the window. “Poor business sense, if nothing else. People who’re asleep don’t buy anything. No. I think the web is doing this. Why is this happening? Who put the web here? And where is the spider?”
Lightning shrugged.
“And how did Lucinda pick up on this … this situation?” continued Amber.
“She’s the witch,” said Lightning. “Who knows how she learns anything?”
There was nothing to see on the outside of the town. Not with normal vision. Driving straight through, as many people seemed to, there didn’t appear to be anything wrong. Just another small tourist town going under in the recession. Unless she made the effort to visit Laurenville via the Ethereal Planes, there was nothing to see. With a shiver she started the car.
“We aren’t learning anything this way,” she said to Lightning. “I don’t know why I thought we would.”
“It’s what the detectives do on TV,” said Lightning. “Stakeouts. We should get coffee and wear disguises.”
Amber snorted at the ridiculous image.
“Well, I don’t have the temperament to sit and stare at nothing for hours in the hope that a bad guy will conveniently choose the time I’m watching to do something interesting. No. It’s time to go.”
“Where?” asked Lightning eagerly.
“Get the VW. I’ll follow you home.”
“Home?” Lightning’s face fell. “Are you sure? Can’t we go detect somewhere else?”
“Where?”
“Here, at the store? Don’t you want a sample of the coffee?”
“No.”
“I’ll get it, if you want.”
Amber cast him an I-don’t-believe-you-are-that-stupid glance.
“Smoke would kill both of us. Get out, we’re going home.”
“Fine.” He didn’t bother hiding his disappointment, slammed the car door and stumped back to the van.
Stupid she wasn’t. Not twice, anyway. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to go into that place.
She went home.
* * * * *
His mother wasn’t going to be pleased when she got home and found that Karl was gone. He’d flatly refused to go to a hospital. Instead she’d dragged him home from the memorial service, tucked him into the bed in the room still decorated with his high school achievements, and he’d passed out again. When he woke he found a message attached to the fridge, another flashback to his teen years, telling him that she had gone to work and he was to call the family doctor as soon as he woke up. Next to it was the doctor’s business card clasped in another fridge magnet so he wouldn’t have an excuse to refuse.
Instead Karl escaped. Climbed into his car and headed back to Laurenville. His mother didn’t need to know he’d already seen good old Doctor Forester the previous year – a physician who didn’t know Karl from Adam despite being Karl’s “family” physician since his eleventh birthday. He’d been given a clean bill of health with the proviso tha
t he “get some rest.” That was the most that modern medicine could give him. He was tired. Lie down and sleep. Simple fix for a simple problem.
He didn’t have the common problems. He didn’t have lupus, chronic fatigue syndrome, or depression. His blood counts were normal, his lipids fine. Even his vitamin D levels were the envy of the lab department. He was rock solid normal. Healthy.
Except he wasn’t.
Once he was safely an hour out of town he’d called his mother to let her know he was gone. Her tears were harder to take than her scolding, but bottom line, there was nothing for him to do. Nothing for her to do.
Nothing in Laurenville either.
It was getting nearly nine p.m. when he called the bookstore to check on the situation just in time for more bad news.
Another sales associate was quitting.
“Jessica, this isn’t the best time to be letting me know you have a new job. Last month when you accepted it was the time. You’re scheduled to work tomorrow morning. You’ve inconvenienced me and the person who is going to have to cover your shifts; and this stunt will certainly not impress your new boss if he ever finds out about it.” Silence floated down the line and Karl bit back a curse, then sighed. “Okay, I’ll mail your final check to the address you have on record. Put Bessie back on the line.” A few seconds later and his patient, reliable second in command grumbled at him. “Bess, I know it’s hard. I promise this is the last time. I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Time off in lieu and overtime. Will you come in tomorrow, please? I’m heading back now so I’ll be there to open up. Can you manage it?”
“Like it makes a difference,” snapped Bessie, “I’ll be drinking as much coffee as I’ll be making you know.”
“I know, I know. Just, please come in. I owe you one.”
“You owe me quite a few,” was the reply. “And I will collect.”
Karl snapped his cell phone closed and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Resignations, complaints from staff, and a text message saying they were running low on coffee supplies. Nothing new in his world.
First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) Page 11