by Mac Flynn
Cronus stepped aside and let Osman lead me into the hall. I followed Osman to the stairs and we walked up, but I paused before my head peeked into the second floor and looked down. Cronus stood at the bottom of the stairs by the banister. The creepy pale partner had a dark look in his eyes. I frowned back at him and hurried to where Osman waited. The upstairs had a single wide hall with three doors on either side and a window at the end. Towards the front of the house the hallway wrapped around the stairs and ended at the front wall with a large window that matched the other one.
"I get the feeling your partner doesn't like me," I commented.
"He doesn't really like anyone," Osman told me as he turned to the rooms on the left. He nodded at the one which was at the front of the house . "That one's yours, and mine's the last door on the same wall. There's a bathroom between us."
I moved to the middle door and opened it. The bathroom was large with a wide, long tub opposite the door and with a toilet on the left and the sink on the right. On either side of the long walls was another door. I glanced over my shoulder and jerked my head towards the doors.
"Why are there two of them?" I asked him.
"It's a shared bathroom," he explained.
I turned to him and crossed my arms over my chest. "Not happening."
"You could take the other side, but it hasn't been refurbished yet and not all the rats are out," he warned me.
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. "Then you'd better not leave hair in the tub."
"I try not to."
"Any other surprises I need to know about?" I wondered.
"Just a rule. Don't go into the basement," he told me.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
He turned away from me towards the stairs and lowered his voice so I could barely catch the words. "Let's just say it isn't pleasant. Oh, and try not to go outside at night alone. The phantoms are strongest then," he added.
"I'll be a good girl," I promised.
He slyly smiled at me. "I hope not, but I'll see you later." He headed down the stairs.
I frowned and rushed to the banister that wrapped around the hole in the floor where the stairs sat. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked him.
Osman paused at the bottom of the stairs and stood beside Cronus. They both faced me, one with a grin and the other with a scowl.
"You'll be fine here. We'll be back before sunrise," he promised.
"And if you're not?" I wondered.
"Then wait some more. We'll be back," he swore.
Osman waved to me, and the pair walked around the stairs and down the hall to the rear of the house. I flew down the steps and was in time to watch their backs disappear through the back door.
I leaned against the staircase and ran a hand through my hair. My mind had a hard time wrapping itself around the idea of phantoms, Whisperers, and whatever the hell Osman thought I was.
"Mystic. . ." I murmured.
Seriously? A mystic? All I could imagine was me in flowing robes chanting spells and watching as everyone around me stepped in fire traps. I snorted and pushed off the wall.
"Well, Enid, you may as well look around the place," I told myself. "And that means starting in the basement."
I was one of those people who believed you didn't have to keep your word if it was made against your will, and since I sure as hell didn't want to be in the position I was in then that meant everything I'd promised Osman was null and void.
Now that I had made up my mind to be disobedient, I had to figure out how to get into the basement. I crept through the house and looked in every closet, cupboard, nook and cranny for an entrance. All I found was that Osman had some nice tastes in cupboards, closets, nooks and crannies, and a really large library on the occult, paranormal, and some interesting illustrated copies of the Karma Sutra.
Also, he'd lied when he told me the right side of the upper floor wasn't finished. Those bedrooms were as finished as the others. Well, as finished as the ones I could get into. Osman's bedroom and bathroom door were locked tight, and not even a hard pound of my shoulder made the door rattle.
I stepped into the upper hall and rubbed my sore shoulder. My mind went over the possibilities and found only one: the entrance to the basement was outside. In the night. Alone.
I walked downstairs and glanced out the front window in the living room. The neighborhood was dark and quiet. Too dark and quiet. Still, what did I have to-
"Going somewhere?"
I yelped and spun around to find Osman in the doorway to the living room. He leaned against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest and that crooked grin on his face.
"Don't you know how to knock?" I snapped at him.
"I forget the skill when it's my house," he told me as he pushed off from the frame. Osman moved to stand in front of me, and he looked over my shoulder at the front yard. "Thinking about doing more exploring?"
My eyebrows crashed down. "What do you mean more?"
"You searched all the house and stopped at the front window. I assumed cabin fever had set in already and you were thinking about getting some fresh air," he commented.
I backed away from him and looked up at the ceiling corners. "You've got cameras around here, don't you? You've been watching me through some TV, haven't you?" I accused him.
Osman chuckled. "Nothing so mundane." The man reached out for me, but I slipped past him and ended up near the fireplace. He turned to face me. "Hold still and I'll show you how it was done."
I frowned. "You bugged me, didn't you?"
"Not exactly, but I can show you if you'd just hold still," he requested.
I pursed my lips, but held still. Osman stepped in front of me and pulled something from my hair. He moved back and held out a thin, tiny black speck pinched between two fingers.
"This is what helped Cronus and me track you, this night and all of today," he informed me.
Osman held it out to me and dropped it into my open palm. I lifted the speck to my eyes and studied the black thing. It was a thick strand of hair with a black tar-like substance wrapped around it that gave it a sticky exterior. I pinched and rolled it between my fingers and didn't feel a thing. It also stuck really well.
"What the hell is it?" I asked him.
"My hair."
I cringed and pulled my face away. "And how the hell did you track me with this?"
He smiled and tapped the side of his nose. "My super sniffer, remember? It works on more than just phantoms, and to be honest my intention when I planted my hair was to make sure you told me the truth about your relationship with the phantoms."
My eyes widened as a memory popped into my mind. I furrowed my brow and glared at him. "There wasn't any spider! You lied to me!"
He shrugged. "It was a white lie."
"Here's what I think of your lies!" I yelled. I tried to throw down the hair, but it clung to me. Tight. I cringed and flailed my hand, but the goop stuck. "How the hell do you get it off?"
Osman grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes with an amused smile. "Very carefully," he told me. He removed one hand from me and pinched his fingers on the strand, and pulled. The hair slipped off my skin and he pocketed the strange trinket into his overcoat.
I shrugged out of his grasp and turned away to face the window. One of my hands reached up and I cradled my head in my palm. "This is. . .this is just too much. . ." I murmured. I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks and a strangled laugh escaped my lips. "Phantoms, ghosts, weird controllers, mystics."
"And werewolves," he added.
My shoulders drooped and I half-turned to him. His smile was gone and replaced with pursed lips and troubled eyes.
"Seriously?" I asked him.
"Unfortunately, I'm very serious," he told me. Osman ran a hand through his hair and strode towards me. I stiffened, but he stopped short when he plopped himself into his chair. He lit a cigarette and tossed the ma
tch into the overstuffed ashtray. "But I'm not telling you this to scare you."
I snorted. "Pity. You're doing a damn good job."
He managed a small, bitter smile. "It's a bunch of stuff to take in at once, I'll admit, but as I see it you've got two choices. Either accept it, or go mad, and I don't think you're the type of girl to go mad. Be mad, maybe, but not go mad."
I frowned at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "How do you know what kind of girl I am?"
Now he showed off that crooked smile. "I followed you all day with Cronus, remember? I got to see a lot of you."
"Should I be flattered that you stalked me?" I quipped.
He shook his head. "No, and I wouldn't be flattered, either, but you've got your choices." He stood and extinguished his barely-used cigarette in the tray. His eyes turned to me. "Which one are you going to take?"
I pursed my lips and dropped my arms to my sides. "I'll take what's behind the front door."
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."
I sighed and gestured to the doorway. "I want you to take me with you tonight."
CHAPTER 11