We finally stopped outside Nadine’s, the basement bar on O’Connell Street. There was a large sprig of holly above the door. And a chalked sign beside it which read, Have Yourself a Jazzy Little Xmas with Ray Mack and his Quintet.
“Nadine started putting music on a couple of months back,” Cassie explained.
And Willets was the ultimate jazz nut, so what better way to welcome him back into society?
The place – which was packed – fell silent when we walked in. Two adepts and the doc into the bargain, walking unannounced into an ordinary bar? I’d have expected no less. But we’d reserved a table at the front and, once we’d gotten settled, people calmed down and started returning to their own conversations. Nadine herself – all multi-colored, punkish hair and cheerful professionalism – came across and took our orders.
Then the Landing’s finest saxophonist came out on stage with his group and began the first set. Willets became lost in the music, his prematurely gray head nodding to the beat.
And he was the first to his feet when they had finished up, nodding and applauding loudly.
“Not ‘Bird,’” he confided in my ear, when I got up next to him, “but not bad either.”
Cass went past us, mumbling something about ‘needing fresh air.’
Which puzzled me. This room was busy, and belowground. But Nadine’s was spacious, well ventilated, and by no means stuffy. So I gave it another minute before following her quietly up. I was thinking of the child that she was carrying, and hoped that there was nothing wrong.
When I pushed the front door open, I couldn’t see her anywhere. I took several steps further out, following the trail her boots had left behind. And finally caught sight of something.
She was in a shadowy alleyway across the street, some thirty yards along. And she didn’t look as if she was alone.
Someone had his arms around her. Somebody was …
My whole body shivered when I recognized precisely who it was.
Quinn Maycott?
Then I saw how faint his outline was, and figured out the rest.
I was about to start heading in their direction, when an unseen hand took a firm grip of my shoulder.
“What do you think you’re doing, Ross?” asked Lehman Willets, very quietly.
I gawped around at him, figuring out something else as well.
“You knew –?” I began angrily.
He gestured for me to keep my voice down.
“You knew about this?” I hissed.
“He came back to her not long after the funeral,” the doc confirmed. “And yes, I sensed it.”
I was shaking once again, but with amazed anger this time.
“She’s had this … this whole Patrick Swayze thing going on for months, and you didn’t think to tell me about it?”
Lehman’s eyelids narrowed.
“Judging by the way that you’re reacting, I’d say I was right not to. What exactly is your problem?”
Exasperation flooded through me, and I gestured at the entwined couple.
“In case you haven’t noticed, he’s dead. She isn’t.”
“And?”
“It’s not natural, for heaven’s sake. Fooling around with the departed? Nothing good can come of that.”
Willets returned my gaze tiredly, thrusting his hands in his pockets.
“Remember how she was when she believed that he was gone?” he asked. “The awful grief and the despair? Would you like to see her that way for whole months, or even years?”
No, I course I wouldn’t. And I felt my thoughts begin to blur.
“You know as well as I do, Ross, that if there’s one person in this whole town who deserves any chance at happiness, anyway that she can get it, then it’s that young woman over there. So keep on being what you’ve always been to her, a friend. Leave her be. Let her enjoy this special moment.”
We could hear the band start tuning up for the second set, downstairs. Willets cocked his head in that direction, then went back inside.
I’ll give him this much credit. He didn’t stand there waiting, and he didn’t hold the bar door open for me. He was trusting me to do the right thing, certain that I’d follow him back down.
And, sure, I was going to do that. He had made his case.
But I paused and took one final glance across the street, and suppressed a low sigh.
What with once-maniacal adepts who’d become reformed, homicide cops who shouldn’t even be here, and now the ghosts of boyfriends past, this was already turning out to be one hell of a peculiar Christmas.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The Greenwood Sanatorium lay on the very edge of that district of town, separated by some parkland from the rest and pressing up against the borders of the forest. It had been built in Victorian times, a massive Gothic structure with a number of smaller outbuildings. Snow lay heavily on its cupolas and spires, its buttresses and dormered window ledges, with the moonlight gleaming off it.
The place had been in constant use ever since it had opened. Because the truth of the matter was, using magic helped drive some of this town’s inhabitants crazy every year. And the effects of other people’s spells pushed several more over the edge. The staff were specially trained to deal with that.
There were a few dangerous patients. They were kept in cells the adepts had enchanted with a Hallow’s Knot, so that they could not conjure their way out. But the vast majority of them were not a threat, and were allowed to wander the long, echoing corridors at will, and even venture out across the sprawling grounds.
That only applied during the daytime, though. When evening fell, the doors were locked. There was supposed to be no way of getting out.
But Millicent Tollburn – who had been here since the summer months – had found one. She’d snuck down into the basement, gone past the roaring furnace, and then crawled up the chute where the coal was delivered …
She was smeared with blackened dust from head to toe. And was dressed only in a cotton nightgown, her feet bare. But she didn’t seem to notice that. She was mumbling to herself. She stumbled onward through the snow, her hair wild and her eyes enormous in her grimy face.
She knew that there was no way to escape. The tall iron fence around the property was far too high, and it had sharp spikes at the top. And a Hallow’s Knot protected it as well. The fact was, she had no idea what she was doing. But she’d felt compelled to come out here.
Her mind had crumbled. Memories of her previous life were gone.
The doctors had tried to explain it to her, several times. How she had teamed up with an evil creature called the Shadow Man, Cornelius Hanlon. And with his help, she had attempted to destroy this town. People had died, apparently, or else been overcome by awful transformations.
And it hadn’t been her fault, the doctors had assured her. She’d been ill when she had done all that. She seriously needed help.
They’d done their best. They had used therapy on her, drugs, hypnosis. But with every month that passed, her grip on her surroundings had grown weaker. She could not distinguish which was fact and which was not fact any longer.
She gazed out at the yellow lights of distant houses. Had she really wished to hurt the people there? It seemed incredible.
The darkness and the moonlight were making her slightly nervous. And the snow around her gleamed so brightly that it made her eyes start stinging. She put her hands to her face, and they came back wet with tears.
But she suddenly remembered where she had been going. Millicent got the best grip on herself she could, and headed for the spot.
To the rear of the grounds, there was a little pond, circled with dead brown reeds. Its surface was frozen. And the wind was being channeled through the nearby trees in such a way that it had cleared away the layer of snow. The exposed ice gleamed like a mirror.
Millicent stopped at its edge and stared down at her own reflected face.
“Hello, again,” she told it. “Are you going to help me this time?
”
She paused, listening. Then her thin features scrunched up unhappily.
“That’s not right. You promised that you’d get me out of here.”
She tipped her head, listening to the response. And her expression became horrified.
“You want me to do what? But no, I couldn’t possibly! I –”
A fresh flow of teardrops began sliding down her dirty cheeks.
“How can you ask that of me?” she groaned. “It’s too much! I cannot do it! No, I won’t!”
Then she turned and fled in the direction she had come from.
But the face remained there on the ice.
When you looked a little closer, you could see it wasn’t her reflection. Similarly sharp-angled, but not genuinely the same. The eyes were green instead of turquoise. And the mouth, which began to move again, was slightly wider.
“Not ready for me yet?” it asked. “Well, I’ve already been patient such a long time. I can manage it a little more.”
The lips twisted into a thoughtful smile.
“You’ll be back, my dear.”
The woman bared her teeth.
“And I’ll be waiting.”
From Simon & Schuster/Pocket Star in ebook form:
TROPIC OF DARKNESS
Enter a dim-lit, sultry world full of the darkest secrets, where age-old legends come to life, dreams get mixed up with reality, and nothing save for death is truly as it seems.
Jack Gilliard is a man with a dark past, and he hasn’t been back to the United States for more than a decade. But when he washes up in Havana, Cuba, he finds himself being drawn into a business darker than he ever dared think. Ancient passions, ancient treacheries, an age-old curse, and the evils of his past are now consuming the present—and Jack is caught in the midst of it all. To survive, all he has to do is leave the country—a prospect much more difficult than anticipated. But the real question is: can Jack escape before the darkness claims him altogether?
“The tension built well as the story progressed and kept me turning pages. All in all, Tropic of Darkness is a well-crafted tale, and well worth reading. I rate this work as Highly Recommended for adult readers” – The Monster Librarian.
And from Samhain Publishing:
UNDER THE ICE
Be careful what you wish for.
What started out as fun turned to tragedy. Bobby was enjoying a day with his girlfriend, Krista, and his brother, David. Until the ferry ride home, when Bobby fell overboard and disappeared into the ice water. His body was never found. Now, two years later, David has taken Bobby’s place with Krista, but they still miss Bobby every day. So when a strange woman gives them a cross that she says can grant them one wish, David wishes his brother would come back. After all, wishes can’t come true. Or can they?
“Under the Ice is a stellar tale ... brilliant, well thought out, and perfectly delivered” – Horror Novel Reviews.
“The story powers along and is told with great style by an author at the height of his artistic powers. He's every bit as good as the best you'd care to mention. Download Under the Ice now. It absolutely cannot be missed!” – Amazon reviews.
More Raine’s Landing on Kindle Direct Publishing:
SPEAK OF THE DEVIL
It’s only early February, and the town should still be in the grip of winter. But the air has turned unseasonably warm and an unexpected thaw has come. And as the snows begin to melt back, bodies start to be discovered, murdered human corpses, each with strange ritual markings carved into their flesh.
At first another serial killer is suspected, but it is not that. The markings are satanic ones. Somebody inside the town is practising black magic of the foulest kind. Demons have been summoned, dark spells cast, doorways opened into deeper realms. And then the Landing’s adepts start to be attacked.
And with his sidekick, Cassie Mallory, unable to help him, ex-cop Ross Devries is facing the toughest and most brutal fight of his entire life. Because this time, he is battling the Hordes of Hell.
Other ebooks by Tony Richards:
THE COMPLETE SHERLOCK HOLMES IN THE 21ST CENTURY
DARK FUTURES: SF MEETS HORROR
ALSISO – short thrillers.
TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE – erotic horror tales.
A NIGHT IN TUNISIA – long supernatural tale.
A BLACK GLASS SLIPPER – supernatural thriller.
NO MAN – sf/fantasy novel.
TOUCHED BY MAGIC: HUMAN DRAMAS IN THE PARANORMAL WORLD
REAL LIFE – humorous fantasy.
THE BOOKS OF SHADOW: VOLUMES I-III – horror stories.
THE VERY EDGE OF NEW HARARE – futuristic murder mystery.
And, writing as A.G. Richards:
THE ROSE COTTAGE
BALANCING ACT
Deadly Violet - 04 Page 24
