Band of Demons (The Sanheim Chronicles Book 2)

by Rob Blackwell

  The room was silent except for the sound of weeping. Kate looked to see some of the moidin crying, apparently worried for their beloved leader.

  Look at how weak they are, she thought.

  Only Kieran seemed unperturbed. He calmly turned toward Sawyer and offered, “I told you it was a mistake to kill her.”

  “Shut up!” Sawyer said and strolled toward Kate, who did not move in the least.

  He put his face inches from hers.

  “Listen to me, you little whore,” Sawyer said. “If you go to war against us, you will die. I’ll kill Quinn first so you can watch him suffer. By the time I get to you, you’ll beg for death. Look around you. Elyssa and I have destroyed other Princes, we’ve attracted dozens of moidin. You have none. We are legion. You are two—and you don’t even fully understand your own powers. What hope do you have against us?”

  Kate smiled.

  “Yeah, you’re a regular band of demons all right,” she said, “but you’re wrong. You don’t face two of us, just one. Quinn and I are two halves of a whole—and more than enough to take you down.”

  “Don’t make me destroy you,” Sawyer said again.

  “You can’t and you won’t,” Kate replied. “You might have had a chance to convince us to surrender—a thin one, but a chance—but you blew it. You’re a monster, nothing more.”

  “And what are you? The good guys?”

  “No,” Kate said, and smiled. “We’re the Prince of Sanheim.”

  Kate turned on her heel and calmly walked away. Elyssa looked fit to murder her then and there, but didn’t move an inch. The moidin in the room watched as Kate strolled out.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Sawyer said. “I’ll give you a few more days to change your mind.”

  Kate stopped near the door, but didn’t turn around.

  “You were right when you said we are just beginning to understand our powers,” she said softly. “But one thing I know is fear. I can sense it. You think you’re scaring me. But I feel the fear coming off you and Elyssa in waves. You’re afraid of us—and you should be.”

  Kate then turned around.

  “Let me make you this offer,” Kate said, and she spoke to the entire room, not just Sawyer. “Leave now. Get the hell out of Loudoun County and we need never see each other again. Stay—and die. It’s as simple as that.”

  Sawyer laughed, but it sounded forced and hollow.

  “You dare threaten me?”

  “No,” she said. “I was threatening everyone here, including you.”

  Kate looked around carefully.

  “Leave,” she said. “Leave now, while you still can. Don’t follow this man on his mad quest.”

  She started to turn around.

  “I will destroy everything,” Sawyer said, and his voice was calm now, almost quiet. “By the time Halloween comes, this entire place will be burning. It will be a Halloween no one will ever forget.”

  Kate turned and walked to the door. As she opened it, she made a parting shot. “You’re talking to the wrong crowd. The last man who said that to me begged for his life.”

  Chapter 25

  October 18, 2007

  There was a knock at the door later that evening. Kate opened the door to find Tim Anderson standing outside.

  “Mind if I come in?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I feel like I should pat you down first to check for a listening device or maybe a hidden camera.”

  “You could,” Tim responded. “I don’t happen to have one, but there’s no good reason for you to trust me.”

  “Well, you got Quinn off today. That should count for something, even if you have been spying on us.”

  She opened the door wide and Tim walked in. He looked around briefly, but Kate felt like he already knew the layout of the place.

  “Quinn will be along any minute,” Tim said.

  Kate nodded, though she already knew.

  “They sure kept him a long time,” she said.

  “It was the books,” Tim said. “If it hadn’t been for them, Quinn would have walked out right after meeting Brown. As it was, they knew he didn’t kill Summer but they still wanted to find out what he knew about Sanheim.”

  “Why did they think he killed Summer in the first place?” Kate asked. “You mentioned a tip-off? You can sit down, you know.”

  Tim had been standing somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room. Kate gestured to the lounge chair and Tim sat down. Kate had only just finished cleaning the place. She didn’t have a high opinion of the Loudoun County police department when it came to their search for Lord Halloween, but she had to admit the cops had been frighteningly thorough today. The only things they appeared to have taken were the Prince of Sanheim books, but Kate couldn’t be sure.

  “The body was found at 6 a.m. this morning,” Tim said. “I think the police would have been inclined to think it was an animal attack, but they had been told where to find it.”

  “By an anonymous tip?” Kate asked.

  “Yes—someone claiming she saw Quinn and Summer near Holober’s old house,” Tim said. “The caller said the two of them were arguing—and she heard a girl scream shortly afterward. From there, it was remarkably easy. They found Summer’s notes, which repeatedly claimed Quinn was the Prince of Sanheim. They called her editor, who confirmed she was working on a story about the Prince’s identity. After that, they jumped to a number of conclusions.”

  “Why didn’t the caller just paint a giant arrow by our door?” Kate asked. “It would have been easier.”

  “That actually worked in your favor,” Tim said. “Whoever was behind this was too obvious about pointing everything in your direction. Brown was skeptical from the beginning.”

  “He still arrested Quinn,” Kate said.

  “Apparently the arresting officer, Stu, was a little more zealous than Brown intended,” Tim replied.

  “But you never believed Quinn was the Prince of Sanheim?” Kate said.

  “Oh, let’s get one thing clear,” he said. “I know for a fact that one, or both, of you is the Prince of Sanheim. That’s not the issue for me. The issue is whether you killed Summer Mandaville—and that I don’t believe.”

  “Because you had us watched or because you know us?” Kate asked.

  Tim shrugged.

  “I told you, I don’t take chances like that any more,” he said. “If my mother were still alive and a potential suspect, I would probably put her under surveillance. You can’t be too careful.”

  “I think the word you’re looking for is paranoid, Tim,” Kate said.

  The two were interrupted by a rattle of keys at the door. Quinn walked in and waved nonchalantly to Tim while he moved to Kate and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Interesting,” Tim said.

  Both Kate and Quinn looked at him quizzically.

  “How did you know I was here, Quinn?” Tim asked. “Most people would be surprised to find their boss in their house.”

  Quinn smiled.

  “Most people would be surprised to learn their boss is spying on them, too,” he said. “For some reason, I just assumed you’d be here. Would anyone like a drink?”

  Tim nodded and Quinn went into the kitchen, pulled two beers from the fridge, and handed one to Tim.

  “I’m a little surprised you aren’t angrier,” Tim said.

  “We have other problems to worry about,” Kate said. “And in this case, your spying was damn convenient.”

  “Now that Quinn’s here, can I cut to the chase?” Tim asked.

  Both Quinn and Kate nodded.

  “I have a lot of questions,” he said. “If you answer them truthfully, I’ll tell you everything I know, which is considerable. If you lie—about anything—I will tell the police everything I know, which in this case means you will spend time in jail. Both of you.”

  Quinn actually smiled at that.

  “If we don’t kill you first,” he said calmly.

  �
��Granted,” Tim said. “I thought about that possibility. You should know that if anything happens to me…”

  “Save it,” Kate said. “He’s kidding. We’re not going to kill you.”

  “Nevertheless, I should tell you…”

  “Seriously, we aren’t going to kill you,” Quinn said. Then, just for fun, added, “Probably.”

  Tim stopped and searched Quinn’s face.

  “Okay, first question,” he said. “Did you kill Lord Halloween?”

  “Yes,” Quinn said. He didn’t hesitate. The time for hoping they could bluff their way out of this was long past.

  “How did he die?”

  “I think you know that part,” Quinn said. “I cut off his head with a sword.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant,” Tim said. “I meant how did he die? Was he afraid? Did he beg for mercy?”

  It was Kate who answered that.

  “He was terrified,” she said. “For the first time in a long time, he was not in control. He meant to kill me and Quinn and things didn’t go according to plan. Before he died, he begged for his life.”

  Tim looked thoughtful at that.

  “Did he really?”

  “Yes,” Kate said. “And right before he died, he thought he was almost free. He died with a surprised expression on his face.”

  Tim looked satisfied.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea what that means to hear.”

  “Believe me, I understand,” Kate responded.

  “Did you write the letter?”

  “Yes,” Kate answered.

  “Why?”

  Kate paused a long time. She wasn’t trying to lie, just thinking how to respond.

  “I honestly don’t know,” she said. “I wanted to…”

  She thought of what Sanheim said. Had she become what she hated?

  “I wanted to send a message,” she said. “I wanted the police to know who did it.”

  “Why use an ancient Celtic myth? What made you choose that?”

  “How much do you know?” Quinn asked.

  “Not enough,” Tim responded. “I’ve done research, but it’s frustratingly vague. I know it’s connected with dark powers and the origin of Halloween. I know a poet named… Crowley, I think, claimed to be one. At first I assumed the letter came from Lord Halloween himself. That he was still alive. Prince of Sanheim and Lord Halloween. They are two sides of the same coin, at least to me.”

  Kate visibly flinched at that.

  “It’s not a name we chose, Tim,” was all she said.

  “I see,” he responded. “Did you kill Robertson?”

  “No,” both Kate and Quinn said at once.

  “Did you kill Summer?”

  “No,” Quinn said again, “but you knew that.”

  “Did someone try to kill Maggie Frank, the director of The Rainbow School?” Tim asked.

  “Yes,” Kate responded. “The same person who killed Summer tried to kill her.”

  “And you stopped them?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell the police who did it?” he said. “The time to be like Buzz is over. If you know who killed Summer, let me know. I guarantee the police will raid him or her within hours.”

  “You have quite some pull with Brown, don’t you?” Kate asked. “Why is that?”

  “Did you forget I was the crime reporter many years ago?” he asked. “I was damn good at my job, Kate. I knew every officer in that department, some better than others. Brown was a good source and he came to trust my judgment. We went through hell together. He knows I wouldn’t try to protect you if I thought you killed those people.”

  “Except for Lord Halloween,” Kate said.

  “Oh, that I consider a public service,” he said. “If I told Brown, he would have to act on it, but he doesn’t want to. The less said of that one, the better.”

  “But you knew about Maggie?”

  “I’ve been in constant contact on this investigation,” Tim said. “Why do you think I came back? The death of Lord Halloween solved one problem for me, but created another: I wanted to know who did it and why. I came to believe quite quickly it was the two of you, what I didn’t understand was how or what was your rationale.”

  “He was trying to kill us,” Kate said. “Does it have to be more complicated than that?”

  “You could have told the police if that was all there was. Why didn’t you?”

  “Uh, Tim, it’s hard to claim self-defense when you decapitate someone,” Quinn said. “Even if Brown wanted to let it go, he couldn’t. Besides, think of the publicity. Two reporters murder a fellow reporter and then claim he’s Lord Halloween? Would anyone have believed that?”

  “He had faked his own death,” Tim said. “They might have.”

  “Okay, but they might not,” Quinn said. “Or worse, they might think we were all in it together. There were a lot of possibilities, none of them good.”

  “Plus the physical evidence,” Kate said. “How were we going to explain the horse tracks or the sword, for God’s sake? Or how we knew where he was holed up?”

  “Which brings me to my next question,” Tim responded. “How did you know?”

  “I think you know the answer to all of this,” Kate said. “You’ve been watching us for months.”

  “You want me to believe you have supernatural powers?” Tim asked.

  “Oh come on,” Kate said. “You already do.”

  “I believe no such thing. There is a rational explanation for everything.”

  Since taking the image of her mother last year, Kate had tried time and again to transform, but had only managed to fail repeatedly—until today. This morning, when the animal attacked, she had stopped thinking and just acted, turning herself insubstantial. She let her emotions overwhelm her and reacted on instinct.

  When Tim said, “You want me to believe you have supernatural powers?” the same anger she had felt when confronting Sawyer and Elyssa came roaring back. He must already know, but had just convinced himself it wasn’t true.

  “Rationalize this,” Kate said suddenly.

  She didn’t waste time thinking about what she was going to do or how to do it—she just did it. In that moment, her image flickered and shimmered. Instead of a blonde, blue-eyed woman standing in the room, there was a stocky man with a fu-manchu mustache.

  Tim stood up immediately and backed away. Quinn looked at Kate in alarm.

  What are you doing? he said in her mind.

  But there was no response.

  Instead, he watched in horror as Tim pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket and aimed it at the man.

  “Kyle,” he breathed. “Kyle, you son of a bitch.”

  “I prefer Lord Halloween,” the man said in a mocking tone. “Miss me, Mr. Anderson? Is that why you came back? Couldn’t stay away, could you? You’ve wanted me to die for so many years, I finally do, and you can’t let go. Instead of moving on with your life, you came back.”

  “No,” Tim said. “You’re not real.”

  Tim was visibly shaking now.

  “Kate, that’s enough!” Quinn said.

  “No, Quinn,” the man responded. “You aren’t the one he wants to question. Neither is Kate. It’s me. I know everything Kyle Thompson knew. I raided his mind before he died. If you want to know something, just ask, Tim.”

  Tim had tears running down his face. He looked stricken and old. The gun wavered in his hand.

  “Why me?” Tim finally asked. “Why did you pick me?”

  “Why not?” Kyle responded. “I needed a partner and I wanted your job. And then I admit it was fun to watch you dance. Amusing to watch you struggle with Ethan and Laurence. You were my puppet.”

  Tim Anderson raised the gun. If he knew it was a mirage, he didn’t show it.

  “Kate, drop it!” Quinn said. “Now!”

  He tried reaching out with his mind, but met only a stone wall of silence.

  “Why should I, Quinn?” Kyle re
sponded. “This is what I am now. Didn’t you hear what Sanheim said? You are what you hate. I am Lord Halloween. Reborn, but better. I’m his legacy, his successor.”

  Kyle Thompson grinned at Quinn.

  “Turn back into Kate or I will pull this trigger,” Tim said.

  “Try it,” Kyle responded. “You don’t have the guts. I followed you, remember? I watched you while you slept. You wouldn’t…”

  The gun went off in Tim’s hand. Just before the bullet hit, Kyle’s image shimmered again. Quinn had a brief glimpse of another woman standing there, clothed in white but translucent. The bullet sailed through her as if there was nothing there and hit the back wall.

  Quinn didn’t wait, but leapt across the room, knocking the gun out of Tim’s hand and then turned back to see Kate sink to the floor. For a minute, he thought she was hurt, but there was no trace of a bullet wound. She was far from okay, though. She had curled into a ball and was sobbing.

  Quinn went over to her, leaving Tim gaping at them both.

  “Are you all right?” Quinn asked.

  “I couldn’t stop,” Kate said through her tears. “I wanted to but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop saying those things. He poisoned my mind, Quinn. I could hear him egging me on.”

  “He wasn’t real,” Quinn said.

  “Liar,” she said. “You know he was. Sanheim is right. I am him now. When I read his mind that night, I must have absorbed it. I’ve become him. And if someone doesn’t stop me soon, I will be far, far worse.”

  Quinn pulled her up and put his arms around her.

  “That’s not going to happen,” he said quietly. “I promise you it won’t happen.”

  I’m here, remember? he said in her mind. I will always be here.

  What if Sanheim is right? What if I need to be Lord Halloween to stop Sawyer and Elyssa? What if I am just holding myself back? What if embracing this is the only way to beat them?

  I don’t believe that, Quinn responded. I refuse to accept that.

  “What are you?” Tim asked.

  Quinn had almost forgotten he was there. He whirled around, intending to shout at him. But when he looked, his anger evaporated. He had become used to Tim Anderson, the fearless editor who never backed down from anyone, including Ethan. He had almost forgotten the broken, paranoid man they met in Bluemont, West Virginia, last year. But the man in Quinn’s apartment resembled that person more than anyone else.