“How’s that?”
“Quinn most likely won’t have visited her last night.”
And she explained what had happened to the ghostly adept, what the consequences of his actions were. And I felt sorry about that, and fairly guilty too. Once again, he’d put his own existence on the line to save us.
“He’s very strong,” I came back, although I was partly trying to help myself feel just a little better. “If anyone can get through this, then he can.”
“Sure. But not a word to Cassie.”
When we reached her room, she was wide-awake and sitting up, the TV switched onto the early news from RLKB, with the volume low. As Lauren had predicted, she was looking glum and hollow-eyed. But when she saw us, she smiled gently and muted the set.
“How’s the patient bearing up?” I asked.
“They’re letting me go home soon, thank the heavens.”
“Everything’s okay, then?”
“Here? Oh yeah. But not out there, apparently.” She jerked her chin at the silent screen. It was showing footage of the convoy last night, approaching the college. “What’s been going on?”
“Nothing that you need to bother yourself with.”
But her eyes sparked angrily.
“I’m not ill, Ross, and I’m not stupid either. Being in the dark’ll drive me nuts, and so you’d better tell me the whole story.”
It appeared we had no choice. So me and Lauren took turns, and explained to her the entire business of the murders, devils, vanishing house, the whole weird kit-caboodle. Cassie listened patiently, nodding while she took it in, a dark glimmer shining in her pupils.
“Neither of you can figure out how to get your hands on this Ryan Eastlake?” she asked us, once we’d finished. “Seriously? What’s wrong with you?”
We both peered at her in a rather puzzled fashion.
“There was this redhead at the frat house … Becky, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And she looked like she was doing whatever he wanted?”
And the point that she was getting to?
“Up until Quinn came along, I always had the lousiest taste in men. And the worst types were always the control freaks. Sounds to me like Ryan’s one of those. Which means he doesn’t just regard this Becky as his girlfriend. No, he sees her as his property.”
I still didn’t get what she was driving at. But Cassie’s mouth had twisted up into a hard, dry grin, her eyebrows arcing.
“Wherever he’s gone, Ross, he’ll be coming back to get her. If you want to get to Ryan Eastlake, then the way to him is through the girl.”
She blinked at us, then rolled her eyes.
“Jesus, where’d you be without my help? I ask you?”
Another visit to the college campus got us most of the information that we needed. A bunch of young women were up early jogging, and were pleased to help.
“Becky Trayner? I’m not sure she’s going to be around today.”
“She used to be a nice kid until Eastlake and those other Deltas got their claws in her. But now, we hardly see her any more.”
“She doesn’t have a room here, no. She has special permission, since she lives with an old aunt who’s pretty frail, gets sick a lot. Becky’s probably home looking after her right now. I’m pretty sure they live in Garnerstown.”
A quick look through the nearest phonebook gave us the correct address.
On the way down there – and Garnerstown’s the southernmost district of Raine’s Landing – I called in to square things with Saul. Yes, his department would provide Ms. Trayner with protection if it should be needed. The P.D. was already badly stretched, but he understood the seriousness of this particular matter. He would put her in protective custody, if need be.
Then I spoke to Willets and he agreed that, if he could, he’d keep his inner senses homed in on the girl. And he’d ask Martha to do that thing as well. So we had this covered from as many angles as were possible. Which didn’t make me feel a whole lot better.
There was plain no telling when young Ryan would show up, or what he would be bringing with him when he did so.
This new morning that we were driving through was damp again. The sky was the same gray as a chunk of pewter, the clouds churning. And that affected everything below them, robbing every color of its natural brightness. We went over Greenwood Terrace, and the tall brick houses started giving way to smaller ones. Single story wooden homes, most of them with patched felt on their roofs. Garnerstown wasn’t precisely what you’d call a classy neighborhood.
But we finally drew to a halt outside 11 Sandborn Avenue. It was practically at the eastern edge, where Garnerstown gave over to Greenwood. And the house that we were staring at – it looked like someone had been living there a good long while, but not done too much to it recently.
The lawn hadn’t been mown in ages and had partway gone to crabgrass. The drapes at the windows were stained and the glass had heavy smears. There was a pushbike at the end of the driveway, but it was rusted. And no car was visible. I doubted that there even was one.
I couldn’t help but wonder why somebody from such a privileged background would choose to spend his time with anyone like Becky. And the answers that came back at me weren’t savory ones, to say the least.
“The poor girl’s grateful just to get the guy’s attention,” Lauren muttered as we headed up along the weed-strewn driveway. “That frat house must seem like a palace to her.”
I shoved my thumb against the bell push, and the first bar of a Sousa march chimed out, off-key. It took more than a minute before anybody answered.
And when the door finally opened, a rich stew of aromas drifted out. Old woman smells. Sickness smells. Foodstuffs that had apparently been boiled to death.
Becky Trayner, on the other hand, was something of a revelation. I’d only glimpsed her briefly at the Deth House, but the sight was etched firmly on my memory. Whereas this could have been another person. Everything about her shouted ‘nice girl.’
Her long red hair was tied back neatly. She was wearing dungarees, a stripy T-shirt underneath. There was a slight glossiness to her cheeks, the way that people’s faces get when they are being kept too busy. And she didn’t seem to recognize us, but she greeted us with a bright, welcoming smile nonetheless.
I couldn’t quite believe this was the same young woman who’d been in that room with Ryan, doing God alone knew what.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I was hoping it would be the other way around,” I said.
Her smile melted partly away.
“Is something wrong?”
“If we could come inside for a few minutes …?”
Becky looked uncertain, glancing back.
“I’m busy taking care of Aunt Alice today. She’s got the bronchitis again, and bad.”
A phlegmy choking from the depths of the small house confirmed that.
“It’s honestly important,” I assured her.
And she turned that over before murmuring, “Okay.”
She showed us through into the living room, which looked pretty much as bad from the inside as it did from out. Everything had faded to a bland dun color, and the furniture’s upholstery had plenty of worn patches. There was a pile of cheap, secondhand romance novels on the coffee table that I hoped weren’t Becky’s. And it was one of those rooms, too, that managed to smell of cat without there being any of that breed around.
How much of her life had Becky spent here? Little wonder she was doing anything that she was able to get out.
“What’s this all about?” she asked.
She had on a look like we were taking up her precious time. And when I opened up my mouth to answer, I found out precisely why.
“Becky, who’s that at the door?” a creaky voice yelled out.
“People collecting for charity, Auntie!”
“Well, don’t give ‘em nothing, because we ain’t got it! And I’m still waiting for breakfast!”
>
“Coming!”
Becky went across and closed the door onto the hallway. Then she turned and asked us, “Can you make this short?”
So we spelled out everything that had been going on, as succinctly as we could. By the time that we were done, she was looking like she half-suspected we were nuts.
“Devil worship? I mean, Ryan’s no angel, but …”
“How are things between you?” Lauren asked, a little stiffly.
“We’ve been stepping out the past five months. He’s rather wild and pretty spoiled, but he generally treats me good.”
“Like in that bedroom at the frat house?”
At which point, Becky suddenly remembered where she’d seen the blond lieutenant. Her cheeks reddened noticeably. Her gaze went shooting off in the direction of the door and then she raised her hands in a placating gesture.
“Can you keep your voices down?” she begged us. “Alice might be pretty old, but she still manages to hear stuff.”
Then she peered harder at Lauren.
“That was you back at the house? You saw …?”
Her eyes had gone slightly damp. I felt for her – both of us had to – but we simply stood and waited.
“Okay, then.” And her head jerked. “Ryan likes to watch while I do … certain stuff. That’s not against the law.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
But she wasn’t going to be cowed that easily. Her stance had hardened up. Her hands had tightened partway into fists, the color in her face becoming angry, and she stared right back at me, her small mouth going taut.
“You don’t know anything,” she hissed. “I’ve never had a good thing happen to me in my life. Never had a spare penny to call my own. And you stand there judging me for doing what, lowering myself a little? Half the girls on campus do a whole lot more for considerably less.”
“We’re not here to judge you, Becky,” Lauren broke across her. “But the plain fact of the matter is that you might be in danger.”
The young woman recoiled surprisedly when she heard that. And so I finished up, explaining how we believed Ryan might come back for her.
“He’d never hurt me!” she protested.
“True or false, that’s not the point. We have to get a hold of him and put an end to this.”
“But I can’t go into protective custody. I’ve Alice to look after, and I’ve got my studies.”
So we agreed that there’d be no police involvement, not at first. Martha and Willets would do their best to keep a psychic eye on her. And we could only hope that worked.
Her aunt was bawling out again, when Becky showed us to the porch. This young woman … she had quite a life. And none of it particularly good.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The windows of the Deth House were still lit up, despite the fact the building had been severed from its source of electricity. The straight fact was that they were glowing even brighter than before, a far heavier yellow, with a fiery quality. And that had the effect of making the surrounding walls look darker, as if night had fallen early.
The house was not standing on terra firma any longer. A few chunks of dirt still clung to the outsides of the basement, and snapped off lengths of cable dangled from them too. But the place was like a plant that had been torn up by its roots. It was floating freely in a milky, slightly silvered ether. There was no horizon, when you stared about. Everything was pale and featureless, until you looked up at the sky.
Ryan Eastlake was sitting on the porch, his knees pulled to his chest. He had on that shark-like grin of his, his brown eyes sparkling with a cold delight. Nobody would find them here, however hard they tried. So he had well and truly won this round.
He and his fellow Deltas could keep striking out from here, the same way they’d done from the campus grounds. They’d made a few mistakes along the way. But, sooner or later, they would finish off the job they’d started.
He was remembering the way that his old man had always talked about the adepts.
“Goddamned snobs. Born with silver spoons in their mouths. Never worked a minute for a damned thing that they have, and they genuinely think they’re better than us … can you believe that?”
Ryan’s grin grew harder.
Then his thoughts turned to his girlfriend, Becky. That was one sweet piece of tail he had. It wasn’t normally his way to be a just-one-woman kind of guy. He had been playing the field since his mid-teens. But there was something very special about this particular girl. He had been drawn to her and, ever since they’d paired up, had grown practically addicted to her presence. She was such a gentle, trusting soul. And – coming from a poor background and used to being pushed around – she did anything he liked.
She was his. Belonged to him. And him to her, in an odd way. He didn’t like to be apart from her for long. He would have to watch his step, though, before heading back to fetch her.
But he ached for her. It almost physically hurt. Sooner rather than later, he’d have to venture back into the normal world and bring her here.
The front door’s hinges squeaked behind him, making Ryan jerk. He’d not been expecting to be disturbed, and for one perfectly good reason. The spirits possessing the three other boys – called ‘frytes’ – had tightened their grips on the trio of young men so firmly that their personalities had been submerged. That had been on his command. They’d been down in the cellar this entire while, standing as still and lifelessly as dummies, which they mostly were.
But it looked like one of them had managed to break partway free. Thad Armitage was standing there, his meaty face tensed up.
He was back to thinking for himself a little. And was struggling, rather sluggishly, to make any real sense of his new surroundings.
The glaze across his eyes grew harder and reflective. His lips kept squeezing together, trying to form syllables that refused to emerge. The only thing that Ryan could do was wait, a little of that broad, tight grin still stretched across his features.
“Dude?” the larger frat boy muttered. “Seriously, what is this place?”
“Somewhere safe. There’s nothing at all to worry about”
But Thad did not look reassured.
“The world out there. It looks like tapioca.”
Which it didn’t really – this guy was an idiot. But then the big jock tipped his blond head back, taking in the scene above them, and his mouth dropped open.
“Dude, what’s happened to the sky?”
Ryan looked up in the same direction. The firmament above them was no longer a bowl of curving bluish gray. It was split up into broad flat segments, some of them much larger than the rest. And there were lights up there the like of which you never usually saw outside the polar regions. Shifting flecks of intense brightness. Twisting bands, with all the colors of the spectrum in them, there for a few seconds before changing shape.
Enough uncertainty was going through Thad’s mind to make him start to panic.
“This ain’t natural, man! This ain’t right! We’ve gotta get out of here!”
Ryan stood up quickly, grabbing hold of Thad’s ear with his fingertips and pulling his face down until their gazes met.
“Enough of this!” he barked.
Except he wasn’t talking to the human being.
Something like a thick, bubbling smoke came rolling out between Thad’s lips. It was the fryte that had possessed him.
“You have been commanded to obey me,” Ryan went on, in the same stern tone. “I have your master’s word on this matter. So take this human being back under complete control. Make him my unquestioning servant till the goal that I have set myself is won.”
He thought he saw the smoke come swarming up behind Thad’s pupils for a few brief seconds. Then the guy’s expression went entirely blank.
The curiosity on his face bled away, as did every hint of panic. He became stiff and lifeless all over again.
“You know what, dudester?” Ryan grinned, clapping him on one broad sh
oulder. “I’ve gotta admit that I prefer you this way. It’s a really big improvement.”
Then he took the tall jock by the arm and led him back inside the house. They still had quite a lot of work to do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Heading back into the center of town, there was an unexpected blurring in my rearview mirror and then Lehman Willets popped into existence on the backseat of my Caddy, his reflected expression peering at me fiercely.
Lauren let out a startled yelp. And even I was so surprised, my car swerved around for a few unsteady seconds. Then I got it back under control and hit the brake, which was a good idea, since we were coming up on a red stoplight.
“Jesus Christ almighty!” I yelled. “Will you not do that while I’m driving?”
But the doc ignored me, not even trying to apologize. He folded his arms across his chest, the bright dots of his pupils blazing. Then he muttered something underneath his breath.
It sounded like: “I don’t buy it.”
“Don’t buy what?”
Other cars had drawn up to the sides of us. A couple of the drivers must have seen what had been going on, and they were staring at us oddly. But the doctor took no notice of them either.
“Any of this,” he growled. “We’re being fed cat’s meat and being told it’s caviar. Ryan Eastlake simply decides out of nowhere to start worshipping a bunch of devils? Not overly likely, if you ask me – that’s not the kind of thing you do on impulse. And as for Harker Eastlake’s sad and humble act …”
“You were watching that in your mind’s eye?”
“Well, of course I was. Why would you suppose anything different?”
“And another thing,” he put in, before I was able to respond. “Nobody has properly explained those three dead bodies yet. Three human sacrifices, spaced apart by several months. What were they in aid of?”
Lauren twisted in her seat.
“I thought they were performed to give the Deth House boys the powers they needed to attack the adepts?”
Willets shook his head.
“They blurred into the other adepts’ houses, much the same way I’d do. That doesn’t require a living sacrifice. And as for negating other people’s magic, we already know that they perform a ritual to make that happen. Me and Ross both watched them do it. No, the sacrifices – they were aimed at something else.”
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