“The choice she made hurt me so much, so very much. She didn’t care about anyone but herself.”
“What if she cares now? What if she has learned?”
I snorted.
“Then that means you ‘won’t’ forgive her. And that is less noble than ‘can’t’ forgive her.” He stood. “You have a few hours of drive time to figure what you will do.” He padded away.
I wasn’t done. “Oh, hell, Amenemhab! I expected her to do what she was supposed to do as my mother. She failed. And now you’re acting like I’m supposed to let her get away with how she treated me. I’m the Lustrata! I’m supposed to be an instrument of justice.” My voice broke. “What she did was not just.”
Over his shoulder Amenemhab met my eyes, my anger and grief, briefly. When he spoke, his words were soft and aimed at the ground. “Sometimes justice cannot be served. Sometimes only forgiveness will do.”
I left the visualization and woke to pruny fingers and lukewarm bathwater.
Quickly washing up and shampooing, I worked up a little preamble to tell Johnny about my mother’s visit, and about her owning the building where Arcane Ink Emporium was housed.
When I entered the bedroom, however, I found him sound asleep. The notepad teetered on the edge of the bed. I placed it on the nightstand; half a page was scrawled with lyrics. I stepped on the pen that had fallen from his grip.
I sighed, turned out the light, and crawled in beside him.
When my satellite phone rang at six-thirty, I grabbed it and shot out of bed. It was Menessos.
“Did I wake you?”
“Of course,” I whispered back. I grabbed my robe and headed across the hall and into the bathroom so I wouldn’t disturb Johnny.
“I apologize.”
“Don’t. My alarm would go off shortly anyway.”
“I was calling to invite you to the haven tonight.”
“I can’t.”
“A date?”
“We might be out of town.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” I started to tell him that we were going to Pittsburgh, but I remembered that he had said Heldridge was seen in Pittsburgh. “Any news on Heldridge?”
“Baltimore. We have some surprises waiting for him.”
So long as he keeps putting distance between us, I’m glad. “That’s good.”
“Any chance you’ll reconsider your getaway? I’m having a party tonight, officially accepting his people into my fold.”
“All of them?”
“Those who preferred to be somewhere else have relocated.” He sighed. “I am very selective about who I want around me. We have interviewed them all now. I admit, some were forcibly relocated, but in truth, few required such action. I’m keeping almost half of them.” He covered the phone partially and spoke to someone else about a caterer for the Beholders and Offerlings. I heard, “Eva, dear, I am certain your chocolates must be divine, but keep them out of my haven.” His tone was firm. “I feed upon these people. I find the caffeine in it … distasteful.” He stopped there, but this time when he continued his voice was deep and angry. “I don’t care what Heldridge thought. Get out.” To me he said, “Pardon my rudeness.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I will fret if you’re not here. Taking them on was your idea; the building of your barns was a large part of their test.”
It was unlikely we would get back from Pittsburgh in time to make his soiree in Cleveland, but then again we might not even find Eris and be turning around and coming right back. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? What if I promise to provide you with a sensible outfit for the evening?”
Every event he hosted had a dress code. “There’s a lot going on today. I’ll let you know, okay? That’s the best I can do.”
Johnny came out of the bedroom, stretching and yawning.
“An Erus Veneficus cannot deny her master,” Menessos said.
Johnny looked askance at me. With his wære hearing he’d probably caught that last bit.
“But the Regional Lord can say she has been set on an important task.” I both rebutted Menessos’s point and answered Johnny’s look with that statement. “Especially if his real master tells him he should.” Seeing Johnny had grabbed a towel from the linen closet, I twirled the shower handle and the water rained out.
“We will begin at eight o’clock. If your important task is completed in time.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I can hear the shower running and now I am imagining you all wet and lathering yourself.” His laugh was the last thing I heard before he ended the call. I didn’t get to tell him it was actually Johnny’s shower running.
* * *
By dawn, a little after seven, I had packed an overnight bag for our trip to Pittsburgh. I could hope we didn’t have to stay more than the day, but realistically, Johnny had a lot of tattoos. If we did find this Arcanum and he cooperated, I had no idea whether one spell would suffice to unlock them all at once or not. Regardless, we had to be back by noon tomorrow. That was when Beverley’s second party would start.
After silently counting out ten thousand dollars from the duffel bag I kept under my bed, I stuffed the hundred Benjamins into an envelope. The urge to write on it “Money to Bribe Arcanum” tempted me for a moment, but I resisted and shoved it into the overnight bag.
A door slammed downstairs. Nana’s up.
I’m telling her. Right now.
Amenemhab had told me a truth I didn’t want to accept. Forgiveness just wasn’t the emotion my heart was anxious to grant my mother, and I was certain Nana would agree with me. So I took my bag downstairs prepared to fess up about what I’d been keeping from her. It would mean taking some of her wrath, but I’d end up with her support. I hoped.
She’d made coffee. Bless her.
“Is Beverley up?” she asked.
“Her alarm won’t go off for another ten minutes or so. Ready to move into the new room?”
“Smells like paint.”
“Open the windows today.”
“I opened them when I came downstairs. That’s why the door’s shut.”
That explains the grouchy slam she’d given it. “You want some air freshener?”
She clamped her jaw and glared out the window, fingers tapping impatiently on the tabletop. I poured two cups of coffee and joined her at the dinette. “I have a confession to make,” I said.
“I’m no priest.”
She was in a serious snit. Maybe telling her was a bad idea. “What’s wrong?”
“Last night, Beverley brought me my money back.” Nana had given the girl four ten-dollar bills as her present.
“Did she say why?”
“She said she’d rather have a different present.”
That sounded rude, and not at all like Beverley. “What did she say she wanted?”
“She wanted me to buy myself those Nicorette patches they advertise on TV. She asked me to quit smoking.”
Now the reason for her snit and for her asking whether Beverley was up yet became clear. She hadn’t yet had a cigarette. “Good for you.”
Her attention snapped to me. “What?”
“You’re obviously trying.”
She snorted and glared at something in the field.
“Though it’s a double-edged sword, I suppose.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the toughest lady I know. If you set your mind to something you’ll do it or die.”
“I passed on that quality, you know.”
I smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She lifted her coffee cup and drank.
“But I also know that someone telling you that you can’t do something is as good as daring you to do it. And you never back down from a dare.”
She put the cup down. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if you want to quit smoking, you’ll only have to defeat the tough lady who raised me. Are
you tough enough to defeat yourself?”
She snorted again. “We’ll see. Where’s your favorite mug?” She pointed at the plain black mug I was using. “I was going to set it out for you.”
“Broke it.”
She tsk-tsked. “Well, what’s your confession, my child?”
Her sarcasm is not something I’ll ever get accustomed to. “This past Tuesday, while you were at the store. I had a visitor.”
“Who?”
I hesitated so I could take a deep breath and steel my nerves for this.
“Wasn’t that old boyfriend of yours, was it?”
“No.”
“Not the boy you went to the prom with?”
“No.”
As Nana stared down into the dark fluid, she wrapped both hands around the base of her mug, clinging to it like a life raft. I was willing to bet she’d initially try to pacify her nicotine addiction with additional caffeine.
“Why are you bringing them up?”
“Because there’s a sense of hurt about you this morning. Old hurt.”
I pushed my coffee cup away and sat back, crossed my arms. “My mother stopped by.”
Nana didn’t move—even blink—for a long moment.
“Apparently, I made the news in Pittsburgh.”
“That’s where she is?”
I nodded. It was my turn to stare angrily out the window. I saw Mountain in the distance, shutting the door to his mobile home and heading over to the phoenix coop. A moment later, the door opened again and Zhan stepped out, hurrying this way.
The possibilities of what that meant derailed my train of thought.
But Nana promptly set the locomotive back on the tracks. “What did she think of you being on the news?”
“Dunno,” I said flatly. “I shut the door in her face.”
Nana considered it, then shook her head. “That’s mean.”
“Mean? After what she—”
“Not that. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with her.” She paused. “I don’t know that I’d have opened the door in the first place.”
“Then what’s mean about it?”
“You telling me about it this morning. Now I want a cigarette more than ever.”
After breakfast when Beverley went upstairs to brush her teeth, I told Johnny about my mother’s visit, and announced to him, Nana, and Zhan that Theo had discovered Eris owned the building the tattoo parlor was in. Zhan finally understood who the upsetting mystery guest had been. Johnny and Nana now saw that this little road trip was going to be harder for me than originally thought.
While Johnny took Beverley to the bus stop in Nana’s car, Zhan, who was going to Pittsburgh with us, packed an overnight bag. I’d packed a second bag with magical supplies and Zhan helped load the Audi’s trunk. Once the bags were in place, I laid my broom atop them and shut the trunk.
I hadn’t had the nerve to ask Zhan about seeing her come out of Mountain’s mobile home earlier. I hadn’t even let on that I was aware that she’d snuck into the house. She could just claim she’d stopped in while making her rounds—and it might have been true, for all I knew. The sleeping bag on the couch was rumpled. All my suspicions were based on seeing how the Beholder had reacted to this particular Offerling.
We waited in the house. Johnny was late.
When he arrived, his face was flushed and his jaw set. “I think I fucked up.”
“Why?”
“One of the moms came over to the car and set into a cop-worthy interrogation of me. She wanted to know who I was, how I was related to Demeter, and whether I was going to be at the party tomorrow.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
“I gave her the short answers, and added that there were circumstances to the whole thing the news hadn’t covered and if she had any common sense she’d understand they only report stuff that will entice people like her to tune in—truth notwithstanding.” He shook his head. “She didn’t like that. She said, ‘I don’t want my daughter around your kind,’ and headed back to her car. So I got out and followed her.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. I told her the party wasn’t for me or you or even her, but for Beverley—a sweet kid we all care deeply about, a kid who deserves to have a fun birthday party. I said, ‘Beverley hasn’t done anything wrong, lady. She’s respectful, does her chores, and gets outstanding grades. If you prefer your daughter not be friends with a kid like that, then you’re clearly one of those people with a cranial-rectal inversion and we don’t want your kind at our party.”
Stunned, somewhat horrified, and yet wanting to laugh, I covered my mouth until I figured out which reaction to give full rein.
“Did I just totally screw up her party?”
Before anyone could answer, the sound of firm knocking on my front door interrupted.
On my way to the door, I recognized the plain, government-tagged Impala in my driveway. Special Agent Brent and his pal Napier stood on my porch again. This time they were smiling.
“Now what?” I asked through the screen door.
“I wasn’t certain we’d find you here,” Damian Brent said.
“Did you think I’d skip town?” I detected Zhan moving into the living room. Johnny stood behind me.
Damian Brent shrugged. “Your friends keep ending up in the city morgue.”
My jaw clamped shut. Maxine.
“Five patrons of the Lodi Grocery witnessed the murder of Maxine Simmons in the parking lot. According to their statements, someone matching your description was hit in the head with a baseball bat and stuffed into the back of a white van, which then sped away. Seems you were kidnapped, Ms. Alcmedi, but here you are safe and sound at home.” He gave the impression he was quite concerned.
With witnesses and Maxine being dead, it wasn’t as if I could deny it.
“How is your head?” he asked.
“My head is fine. Now.”
“It was you the murderers stuffed into the van?”
“Yes. I escaped.” It would only cause trouble for Johnny and the pack if I admitted I knew who kidnapped me; it would mean I knew who had murdered Maxine and that was a can of worms I didn’t want to open. “Maxine’s death is tragic.”
“Ah, yes, but the death of the one person who could provide you an alibi for the time when Xerxadrea Veilleux was murdered must have you quite worried.”
“I actually hadn’t considered that.” It was worrisome now because he mentioned it.
“When I was informed the deceased was Maxine Simmons, I remembered her name from my notes. We’re here as a courtesy. Since you’re here and safe, however, I have to ask, did you get a good look at the men who took you and murdered your friend?”
“No. As we walked around the van, they shot her and I thought she’d tripped. I bent to help her up. Just as I saw the bullet wound, I was hit. I blacked out.”
“But you escaped. Did you see anyone then?”
“No.”
“Where were you being held?”
Johnny put his arm around me protectively. “Back off, man. This has been traumatic.”
“Since Ms. Simmons was an Offerling to the Regional Vampire Lord, this murder investigation has fallen to me. I’d like Ms. Alcmedi to come down to the station and give a formal statement. If you’d like to initiate the paperwork for kidnapping charges, we can tend to that as well.”
“I can do that on Monday,” I said bleakly. “This weekend is pretty tight.”
“She’s been through so much we are going to visit some family,” Johnny added. “She can give you a statement Monday.” I was impressed he’d twisted the current events so fluidly.
“It doesn’t work that way, Mr. Newman,” Clive Napier said. “And we have some questions for you as well.”
“Me? About what?”
“Let’s talk at the station, okay?”
Johnny and I exchanged glances. In the living room, Zhan waved to get our attention. She nodded; she was already on her cel
l phone. Nana shuffled down the hall bringing my jacket. “I’ll make some calls,” she whispered.
They were calling in the cavalry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The agents put us in the back of their gray Chevy Impala. The black upholstered seats were clean and the new car smell was pronounced. Into the formal silence that descended as Napier typed an address into the GPS device, Johnny asked, “You guys don’t get anything better than an Impala?”
“No,” Special Agent Brent answered flatly.
Johnny seemed to have touched a sore spot.
The men up front didn’t engage us or each other in conversation so it became a tedious ride. Thank goodness it wasn’t long. Shortly after he turned onto US 303, I knew where we were going. Evidently SSTIX, although a federal agency, didn’t rate space in the Homeland Security offices in Cleveland or with the FBI in either Cleveland or Akron.
When we arrived at the little station, however, Brent glared at Napier. “This is the local law enforcement facility?” he asked quietly.
“It’s the closest one. I called and confirmed we’d be using it as a field station.”
Brent got out and slammed his door.
“He keeps that up,” Johnny said to Napier, “and he’s gonna slam this little bucket of bolts apart.”
Napier ignored him and got out.
In sync, the two agents opened the rear doors for Johnny and me.
Brent wasn’t happy with the rural cop shop. The brick façade was approximately two feet wide on either side of a white, single-car garage door that took up the bulk of the building’s front. The rest was a white door with two full sidelights. The roof peaked in the middle and had a niche. Someone had filled the niche with cement and finished by shoving a black clock into the mortar.
At our approach, the door opened and the part-time sheriff of these parts waved in greeting. He wasn’t much older than me, and he was lean in a bookish way. A scientist’s lab coat would have suited him better than a badge. “Howdy,” he said. “Are you the fellow that called about using the room?”
“We are,” Special Agent Brent said. Polite introductions followed and I learned that our part-time law enforcement was the township mayor’s nephew, Robbie Carter. The only action he was likely to see out here was a paper cut.
Arcane Circle c-4 Page 21
