The Messenger: A Novel

by Burke, Jan

  One of the stairs creaked.

  Evan stepped out into the hallway, gun held nervously before him. He started to walk toward the stairway. Amanda gently left Rebecca’s side, ignoring her soft sounds of panic. She looked for something to use as a weapon and saw a large vase filled with dried flowers on top of the dresser. Taking hold of it, she crept out of the bedroom.

  Evan was just ahead of her, standing at the top of the stairs. If she aimed it just right…

  Amanda heard a low growl.

  “Shade, no, he’s got a gun!” she shouted, throwing the vase at Evan, which clipped him on the side of the head before it shattered somewhere below.

  She turned on the hall light, hoping to help the dog see the gun.

  But Evan was already firing at the dog. Shade kept coming. Evan turned the gun on Amanda.

  Shade leaped, knocking him to the floor, then, moving between her and Evan, stood bristling, growling at him.

  Evan hurriedly came to his feet. He raised the gun again.

  Shade leaped again and sank his fangs into Evan’s throat.

  The man burst into flames. His body, his arms, his legs, his face—all afire. His mouth opened as if to scream, and then he vanished.

  Amanda stood frozen in shock.

  The stairs showed no sign of burning. There were no ashes anywhere. Had she really seen…? Yes, there was Shade.

  Shade looked up at her. For a brief moment she wondered if he was going to attack her next, but there was nothing fierce in his gaze. He sat calmly, as if he knew she was not ready to be approached.

  “Don’t think me ungrateful,” she said, hearing her voice tremble, “but that scared the hell out of me.”

  47

  Shade cocked his head, then rolled over, exposing his belly. Tyler had said that until that night in the desert, Shade had never struck this submissive pose for anyone but Tyler.

  She moved cautiously down the hall and reached out a shaking hand to stroke his fur. It had a calming effect on her. She tried to discover if he had been hit anywhere, but he seemed unharmed. He came to his feet, and she buried her face in his soft fur. “Shade, help me. I know you know what to do. I’m so new to this, and I’m so scared.”

  He softly nestled the crest of his head against her cheek, and made a kind of sighing sound. His breath was sweet and warm.

  She again felt a sense of calm, one that allowed her to think more clearly. She reexamined Shade for any sign of injury, but although she could see places where bullets had struck the woodwork on the stairs and banister, he bore no wounds. She didn’t understand what had happened to Evan, but she had no time to worry about that now.

  “Rebecca!” she said suddenly, and ran back down the hall. Shade followed at a more stately pace.

  She entered the room to see her cousin cowering in fright.

  “I know, I know,” Amanda said. “But he’s gone now. Shade…got rid of him for us.”

  Rebecca looked gratefully at the dog.

  “Hang on, let me find something to cut you loose.”

  Amanda ignored the ringing of Tyler’s cell phone, somewhere under the bed, as she rummaged through a drawer and found a pair of scissors. She cut Rebecca’s hands and feet free of duct tape, then gently worked to pull it off her face. She had nearly completed this process when Shade came to his feet and went to the door.

  Amanda tried not to be alarmed by this.

  She let Rebecca manage the last of the tape. Rebecca drew a few deep breaths, then reached for Amanda and began to sob in her arms.

  Even over these sounds, they both heard Shade growl.

  Rebecca whispered, “He’s back!”

  “No, no, he’s not.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she said with a shudder.

  “Amanda?” a familiar voice called.

  “Alex! Yes, I’m here! Rebecca, too—we’re up here.”

  “Umm, could you call Shade off?”

  “Shade!” Amanda said, moving to the doorway. “You know Alex!”

  Shade remained in a warning stance—high on his toes, back bristling, ears pitched forward.

  “Oh!” Amanda said, seeing that Alex had her gun drawn. “It’s probably the gun. Put it away and I think he’ll let you up here.”

  The moment Alex holstered the gun, the dog came forward to greet her in a friendly manner.

  “What’s going on here?” Alex asked, seeing the bullet holes in the staircase.

  “Long story, and we don’t have time for all of it now.” Out of immediate danger, all her fears for Tyler came rushing back. “Alex, they’ve taken Tyler. We need to get out of here and…”

  “And what?”

  Amanda looked in panic to Shade, who stared back at her. Never had she wished so much that he could talk. She tried to calm down.

  “We need to get back to Tyler’s house,” she said, and the dog wagged his tail. “We’ll all be safer, and I—I can figure things out once we’re there.”

  Rebecca hobbled out of the bedroom. She had Tyler’s cell phone in her hand. “Yes. Let’s get out of here. Please.” She began to gingerly make her way down the hall.

  Alex lifted her brows in surprise. “You’re hurt! Let me help you.”

  “Just twisted my ankle when I was—” She drew in a sharp breath. “I’ll be okay,” she said, then burst into tears again.

  “Come on,” Amanda said as she and Alex each put an arm around her cousin’s shoulders and helped her down the stairs. “Let’s get you back to your brother.”

  Alex drove them back in the van. She had brought several guards with her. Rebecca and Amanda sat in the far back, on the mattress, Shade nearby.

  Rebecca gave Amanda Tyler’s phone. “Does your eye hurt?”

  Amanda reached up to where the phone had struck her eyebrow ridge. “It’s a little bruised, that’s all.”

  Rebecca’s voice dropped to a whisper as she said to Amanda, “You really saw them, didn’t you?”

  “Your parents?” she whispered back. “Yes. I realize it’s a shock at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

  “I remember when you told Brad and me that you had seen them. We ridiculed you.”

  “Well, of course you did.”

  Rebecca ducked her head. “Yes, ‘of course.’ That’s what I do best, isn’t it? Make fun of you.”

  Amanda felt a brief temptation to milk these feelings of guilt for all they were worth, then decided against it. “I’m kind of amazed that you’re seeing them now, too, but it’s also something of a relief, if you know what I mean?”

  “I thought I was going crazy.”

  “Oh, I’ve been thinking that about myself for years. I have to know—are they wearing evening clothes?”

  “No. Tennis whites.” She shivered. “The last thing I saw them wearing.”

  “What do you know…” On the whole, Amanda thought, she was glad she saw them looking more elegant.

  “This can’t be happening,” Rebecca said.

  “You need some rest. I’m sure it’s all been horrible for you. I’m so sorry it took so long to free you.”

  “You were…you were really brave.”

  “I’m used to the ghosts,” she said.

  “Not used to men with guns.”

  “No,” Amanda admitted. “But don’t think I wasn’t scared, too.”

  By the end of even the short ride back up the hill, Amanda was glad that she could hand Rebecca off to Brad and Ron. She found it unsettling to be around her cousin while she was in this mood. She thought of Rebecca as bold and daring—if often without regard for other people’s feelings. Seeing Rebecca scared and repentant was hard to take in.

  “I’ll be up in Tyler’s rooms,” she told Ron and Alex. “Come and see me once you and Brad calm her down and take care of her cuts and bruises, okay?”

  As she passed the library, she heard a dog pawing frantically at the doors. She took pity on Wraith and opened them. The dog bounded out of the room but
went straight to Amanda, exuberantly circling her, wagging her tail and giving joyful barks. Shade joined in the celebration.

  Amanda stood stock-still, momentarily paralyzed with fear—then told herself to relax. These were cemetery dogs. She must think of Wraith in the same way she thought of Shade.

  “Well, yes,” she said over the din. “I’m glad to meet you, too. But we have work to do.”

  Both dogs immediately grew quiet and stared at her.

  She reached out carefully to touch Wraith. The dog’s fur was silky. Shade’s fur was pleasant to touch, but this dog—this dog’s fur was amazing. She felt suddenly that she would never have anything to fear from this dog. She wanted this dog, and if Tyler thought they weren’t going to keep it—why, she’d keep it herself.

  She knelt beside Wraith, and the dog breathed softly onto her cheek. Like Shade’s, Wraith’s breath was warm and sweet, a scent that calmed her.

  She found an unexpected sense of confidence. She could help Tyler. She wasn’t sure exactly how, but she would find him. Now—how to begin?

  To her relief, her aunt and uncle appeared. Both dogs growled but ceased when she ordered them to be quiet. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she told the ghosts. “I’m trying to figure out what to do next. Can you help me?”

  Her aunt and uncle both pointed to their wedding rings.

  “I need to find the ring?”

  Her aunt and uncle nodded.

  “Shade,” Amanda said, “I could search the whole house and never find it. You’ve been at his side almost constantly. Do you know where the ring is?”

  He immediately trotted into the library. Amanda and Wraith followed. Her aunt Catherine and uncle Jordan disappeared.

  Once there, Shade became less helpful. He sat down on a rug in front of the hearth and stared at the fireplace. There was no fire burning now, so she bent to examine the grate. It was solid. None of the bricks was loose. She sighed and decided not to waste time trying to coax him. Feeling like a snoop, she began opening desk drawers. She found the pages Tyler had given her to read, and quickly reread the section in which Adrian had given Tyler the ring.

  Adrian had told Tyler that if he accepted the bargain, the dog would always find him.

  She looked up at Shade. “You can find Tyler?”

  He barked.

  “I’ll take that to be a yes.”

  She frowned. The ghosts had been clear about needing to take the ring, or she’d urge Shade to take her to him now.

  Wraith was staring at Shade.

  No, she realized. Wraith was staring at something above Shade.

  The mantelpiece.

  She moved back to the fireplace. The front piece was a dark wood, carved in an intricate design, a series of Celtic knots into which a dragon was interwoven. She felt along it, looking for a secret latch or other mechanism. She found none.

  Then she looked at the left side of the mantel, which faced a wall of books. Normally, no one would see it without coming around to this side and standing in a narrow space between the mantel and the shelves.

  The end of the mantel was carved with a winged death’s-head.

  “Memento mori,” she said.

  The dogs were now looking at her expectantly.

  She studied the figure and realized that one of the eyes of the skull looked a little different from the other. Its surface was slightly smoother.

  She pressed it, and a drawer slid forward.

  She pulled, and it came free, spilling its contents at her feet.

  More than one hundred silver mourning rings rolled across the hardwood floor.

  48

  You don’t need to tell me,” Adrian said angrily as Daniel entered the basement. “Evan is dead.”

  “Dead! No—”

  “Ah. You didn’t know.” The shell eyelids blinked with a little clicking noise. “And yet you arrive here without him.”

  “He wanted to go back to the house and shoot the girl—not the girl you wanted, this one was Brad’s sister. I wanted to hurry up and bring Hawthorne to you.”

  “Hawthorne?” Adrian said sharply. “You’ve brought him here?”

  “Yes, my lord—I mean, sir.” Daniel winced at this slipup, but Adrian seemed not to notice. “I hope I did the right thing.”

  “The right thing? My boy, you have exceeded my expectations! Bring him down here at once.”

  Daniel hurried up the stairs, and cautiously approached the man he had left tied up on the kitchen floor. Hawthorne hadn’t moved. His eyes were still closed, his face gray. His clothing was drenched in blood. Daniel almost expected his skin to be cold as he picked him up again, but instead the man burned with fever, a warmth Daniel felt even through the layers of Hawthorne’s clothing. He had never known anyone to get such a high fever so soon after an injury.

  Adrian had told them that they would not be able to kill this man, only to injure him so badly they would have time to search his clothing for the ring. But maybe Evan’s bullets had done the job. It was hard to believe a man in this condition could live much longer without medical attention. Daniel found himself feeling itchy wherever his skin had come in contact with Hawthorne’s blood. He told himself to stop being such a wuss.

  He could not help but look at Hawthorne’s fingers, double-checking them. He wore no ring. Eduardo had told Adrian that the man did not wear the ring, something Eduardo had known first because Brad and others who came in contact with Hawthorne had said he wore no jewelry, and second because he had checked this for himself, using a telescope to spy on Hawthorne when he walked from his car to the hospice or stood on his balcony. He dared not come closer, Eduardo said, because of the dog.

  And now Eduardo was dead, and the only other time Hawthorne had been at their mercy, out in the desert, they had been worried about a witness—this woman who was his lover, as it turned out. And then the dog had arrived, and they had had to leave before they met Eduardo’s fate.

  How had Evan died? he wondered. Probably the dog. Despite the heat emanating from Hawthorne’s body, Daniel suddenly felt cold with dread. That dog had jumped right into the truck. He had been inches from meeting Evan’s fate.

  It was difficult to negotiate the narrow stairs while carrying Hawthorne, but he managed it.

  Adrian motioned with his clawlike hands. “Here, here, on the table!”

  As Daniel complied, Adrian went down on all fours—his only means of moving around now—and scuttled to Daniel’s side. Daniel could not help giving a small cry of pain as Adrian used his pincer hands—which he saw now had grown stronger and larger—to grasp Daniel’s leg and arm, slowly pulling himself up in this manner until he stood.

  “Ah, yes!” Adrian said. “Hawthorne! My dear Daniel, you do not know—cannot conceive of—how long I have waited for this encounter!” He laughed. “Oh, this is excellent.”

  Hawthorne moaned.

  “Quickly! Chain him!” Adrian ordered. As Daniel obeyed, Adrian studied him, then said, “Do you think he is harmless?”

  “Evan shot him, sir, I don’t know how many times. He’s got a high fever.”

  “Do you see these three bullet holes in his clothing, these two through the chest? And this one, in the stomach area?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And all this blood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tear open the shirt. Look at the wounds.”

  Daniel did as he was told and then stared in disbelief—though Hawthorne’s torso was covered with drying blood, his wounds were nothing more than red marks. A glance at his face showed color returning to it.

  “I warn you, Daniel, he is far from harmless. He could easily kill us both, without experiencing anything more than temporary discomfort.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Search him for the ring. Search thoroughly. Then bring me a sharp knife.”

  Daniel did as he was asked, all the while thinking of Adrian’s caution. He had never seen Adrian respond to anyone as if he were afraid—but clear
ly, he was afraid of this man. Even his previous warnings about Hawthorne had not prepared Daniel to see such a reaction.

  He scratched at his hands.

  By the time he returned from the kitchen with the knife, all signs of the bullet wounds had disappeared. Daniel reached Adrian’s side just as Hawthorne’s eyes opened. For a moment Hawthorne seemed utterly confused, pulling weakly at the manacles, frowning as he looked about the room.

  Adrian took his face between the powerful pincers that served as his right hand, forcing Hawthorne to look up at him.

  At first sight of the fleshless face, Hawthorne attempted to turn away, but Adrian held him fast.

  “Do you not recognize the man who gave you your very life, Captain Hawthorne?”

  There was a flash in the dark eyes, then Hawthorne said, “I thought the fever was giving me a nightmare, but I should have known you by the stink, Adrian.”

  For that little joke, Adrian pressed the pincers closed until Hawthorne’s jaw broke.

  Daniel saw the agony of this injury written on the man’s face, although Hawthorne did no more than grunt at the moment the bone audibly cracked.

  “Now, while you are healing, I shall ask Daniel to note that your powers of recovery do not exclude you from the experience of pain. If you do not want to live out eternity in this cellar, experiencing more pain, you will tell me what you have done with my ring.”

  After a moment, Adrian said, “Yes, now I think you are well enough to speak. Where is the ring?”

  “Shade will find me, you know,” Hawthorne whispered.

  Adrian laughed. “Dear me. Do you think that dog will be of any help to you? You forget that he and I share a bond as well. He cannot attack me.”

  Hawthorne looked to Daniel. “What a comfort to you. If you are Adrian’s creature, you are in danger from that dog.”

  “Don’t worry, Daniel,” Adrian said quickly.

  “But, sir—what he did to Eduardo, and probably to Evan—”

  “You will not share their fates,” Adrian said distractedly. “Tyler!”

  Hawthorne’s eyes were drifting closed. Adrian pinched his face again, and Hawthorne looked up at him but seemed unable to focus. Adrian let go of him.