《Dead Eyes Open》


 Prologue - The Body

    Detective Moran ignored the random noises and people around him. He had learned to tune them out. He needed to focus on the body in front of him.


    The wreck of a human form was slumped sideways in the armchair. All the blood had coagulated hours ago, leaving behind piles of nearly black goo. Between that and the fact the victim¡¯s shirt had shifted, Moran couldn¡¯t see the entry wound.


    Small mercy.


    He would have to look at it eventually, that was part of his job, but he always had to steel himself. He¡¯d never managed to banish the chilly, cringing sensation that grew in his chest, but he''d trained himself not to react. That mattered. That was the mark of a professional.


    Moran glanced at the man standing beside him. The man wasn¡¯t the medical examiner, and he sure as shit wasn¡¯t the police chief, but he was as unaffected as everyone around him.


    It felt like he belonged there.


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    City attorney, maybe? Moran thought.


    ¡°Who was the victim?¡± the man asked.


    Moran considered the corpse. ¡°Professor Trevon Wayde. He worked at the college across the street.¡±


    The man nodded, as if accepting a fact. Then he muttered, almost under his breath, ¡°And how was it done?¡±


    The detective ran a hand through his hair. It was too early in the morning to deal with that kind of crap.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°unless someone¡¯s learned to embed nine-millimeter bullets into a chest cavity with a slingshot, I¡¯m going to guess it was done with a gun.¡±


    The man looked away from the body. When his eyes rested on Moran, the detective shivered.


    ¡°You¡¯re speaking of the murder?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Ah. I suppose you would think that¡¯s important.¡±


    The man turned and left.


    A second later, Moran grabbed onto the arm of a passing forensic science technician.


    ¡°Hey, who was that guy who just left?¡±


    ¡°What guy?¡±


    ¡°The guy I was talking to five seconds ago. Wore a nice suit.¡±


    ¡°I heard you muttering. I thought you were talking to yourself.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t see him?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sir.¡± The technician lifted hands. They were full of equipment. ¡°I was working.¡±


    Moran let go of the man and waved him on. ¡°Nah. You¡¯re fine. We all have work to do.¡±


    The technician passed by. Detective Moran gazed at the study door for a few seconds, then returned his attention to the body of Trevon Wayde.

 Chapter 1 - Emerra Wakes

    Excerpt from Phix¡¯s Last Prophecy


    ¡­and when her dead eyes open


    she will see things¡ª


    every aspect and element¡ª


    she will dream dreams,


    and see visions.


    She will watch the ways unfold¡­


    The knocking bothered me.


    That shouldn¡¯t surprise anyone. Who wants to be woken up when they¡¯re enjoying a good sleep? Everything was dark and cozy. I was in that blissful haze of unconsciousness that wraps you up better than any blanket, and then¡ªthe knocking.


    I groaned, closed my eyes harder¡ªyou know what I mean when I say that¡ªand willed it away. Whatever ¡°it¡± was. This was not a matter of ¡°ten more minutes¡± and rolling over. Oh, no! I wanted them to go away forever. That rest was my due privilege.


    It should be in the Bill of Rights, I thought. Thou shalt not wake Emerra when she sleeps¡­sleepeth? Whatever. I¡¯m so tired.


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    And I was. My bones ached with exhaustion, and lethargy hung on every part of my body like a weighted blanket.


    I had been sick for a long time.


    Whoever was knocking didn¡¯t care. There were shuffles and random noises too. And that awful murmuring, just outside my range of hearing¡ªthe kind that makes you realize there are people there, but isn¡¯t loud enough to give you any particulars about who those people are and whether you¡¯re supposed to feel dread or joy about them being there.


    A loud crack sounded right above my head. My eyes jerked open, but I couldn¡¯t see anything. It was pitch black. I might as well have kept them closed.


    There was another crack. The murmur of voices returned, and a sliver of light beamed in.


    If I hadn¡¯t been in utter darkness, I might have described it as soft, mellow, and orangey-yellow¡ªthe light of a lovely October sunset. But I had been in utter darkness, so I¡¯ll say it was a spear.


    I blinked the pain away as my eyes adjusted. Then they widened on their own.


    Above me was a skull.


    It sat atop a well-dressed skeleton¡ªit wasn¡¯t floating there or anything¡ªbut when the first thing you see is a skull, grinning at you, you kind of fixate on it. It doesn¡¯t matter how nice his suit is.


    Behind him, I could see others. The little red-headed witch seemed to be the most normal of them. A vampire stood behind her, so rigidly upright there wasn¡¯t a single crease in his suit. A mummy was on the skeleton¡¯s right, and a blue-green bog-creature, only as tall as the mummy¡¯s knees, swayed around one of her wrapped legs. The bog-creature was chewing on the end of a bandage in a thoughtless manner. When I caught sight of the pale hand that had lifted the lid of my casket, my eyes followed the arm back to what must have been an Igor. You could see the hump on his back, and he had wild, rolling, mismatched eyes. A wolfman, as tall as the sky, loomed over them all. Every last one of them was looking at me, and each face had a different expression.


    But the skull grinned, and I wondered if he would be grinning, even if his head wasn¡¯t a skull.


    ¡°Emerra Cole?¡± He reached out his bony hand to help raise me from my eternal slumber. ¡°My name is Jack Noctis, though most people call me Big Jacky. I cannot tell you how glad we are to meet you.¡±

 Chapter 2 - At the Noctis Mansion

    I stared at the woman in the mirror. I was used to the baldness. The eyebrows were pale and stringy, but at least they were there. It was the eyes that made my reflection feel like a stranger.


    My eyes had been the only thing I¡¯d ever really liked about my appearance. Before I died, they¡¯d been a radiant blue, but now all the blue had darkened to black. I knew my pupils must have been in there somewhere, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn¡¯t tell where my irises ended.


    It was eerie.


    I lowered the hand mirror and forced myself to take a breath.


    Well, that wasn¡¯t the only eerie thing going on, so at least I would fit in.


    Jacky was sitting across from me in one of the velvet armchairs that seemed purpose built to add more atmosphere to a room already choking with it. We were in the sitting room of Jacky¡¯s mansion. He had assured me it was the sitting room. He had to assure me twice because I kept calling it the library. Then he told me not to worry about it; once I saw the real library, I was unlikely to make that mistake again.


    The room was one of those charming old places that belong in a British murder mystery, but nowhere else. There was dark wood, heavy jewel-colored curtains, shelves of hard-bound books, and a fire whispering from the fireplace.


    The skeleton leaned toward me. The bones of his fingers were laced together, and his elbows were on his legs. I wondered what, exactly, he was leaning them on.


    ¡°You see?¡± he said.


    ¡°Do you even have vocal cords?¡± I asked.


    Jacky leaned back. He had no facial expressions, but the body language seemed to show he was¡­well¡­taken back¡ªor, more properly, taken aback.


    ¡°How are you talking to me?¡± I said. ¡°Are you somehow creating sound waves and the noise is arriving in my ears, or is this some kind of weird telepathy? I mean, your jaw isn¡¯t even moving!¡±


    Olivia snickered.


    Olivia was the redheaded witch. She looked like she was sixteen, but I wasn¡¯t going to make an assumption based on her appearance. I knew she was a witch because she flaunted the fact. She wore all black and had a pointed hat for when we were outside. Her full name, I had been informed, was Olivia Lauren Sofie Emma Tara Grace Oliversen. She seemed almost as proud of her long name as she was of her long, copper-red hair.


    ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s bothering you?¡± she asked.


    Iset said ¡°Olivia¡± in a gentle, chiding manner. Olivia frowned and her lips pressed together.


    The first time I had heard the mummy speak, I had to wrap my mind around the idea that beneath all those bandages was a woman, but when I looked at her again, I realized, if I had bothered to look at her properly the first time, I would have seen it. Iset was a mummy, so you couldn¡¯t call her voluptuous, but the body shape was as feminine as her voice.


    Jacky¡¯s skull turned from them back to me. ¡°Emerra, I understand that you¡¯re confused right now. If we need to break for the evening, we can resume this conversation later.¡±


    ¡°If we stop talking, I don¡¯t see how that¡¯ll help me get answers.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯ll be time enough for all your questions, but I rather think you¡¯re more interested in avoiding my questions than you are in asking your own.¡±


    I looked away. Those empty sockets were perceptive.


    ¡°Yes, I see them.¡± I passed Olivia her hand mirror. ¡°They¡¯ve gone black. It¡¯s different, but I don¡¯t see how it makes them special.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only the outward sign of a new-born power. Can you trust that I know what I¡¯m talking about?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in no place to argue with you,¡± I grumbled. ¡°How did I wind up with them?¡±


    ¡°You inherited them. From your mother.¡±


    Well! That was enough of that. I decided to change the subject. ¡°Am I dead?¡±


    Big Jacky must have realized he could only fight me so much. I had a lot of questions. And I was very good at avoiding things.


    ¡°You were dead,¡± he said. ¡°You aren¡¯t anymore.¡±


    ¡°How does that work?¡±


    ¡°Normally, when a person dies, their soul leaves this realm and enters the passages¡ª¡±


    ¡°The passages to what?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Beyond the passages are realms that I can¡¯t enter. Your soul went through the passages and returned to your body.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean¡­I¡¯m alive again?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re subject to a different kind of life, and while you can¡¯t exactly die¡ªnot in the traditional sense of the word¡ªI should warn you, you can be destroyed.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a difference?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± His skull somehow seemed to grin more. ¡°Trust me on that.¡±


    And you can¡¯t argue with death, I thought. He always wins.


    That thought tugged on another mental thread I¡¯d been avoiding.


    ¡°The cancer?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± Noctis assured me.


    I nodded. My cheeks felt slightly warmer¡ªCould I blush? Did I have blood?¡ªas I asked. ¡°My hair?¡±


    ¡°Not likely,¡± Olivia said.


    I had meant to glare at her, but my sadness must have leaked through. Her smirk faded to a pout.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± she said. Maybe she was trying to sound reassuring, but it came off as flippant. ¡°We¡¯re all freaks here. No one minds if you have no hair.¡± She raised a single finger to gesture to the tall figure standing behind her. It was the wolfman, Conrad Bauer. ¡°Or if you have too much hair.¡±


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    Conrad said nothing. He only stood there with his arms crossed.


    ¡°Is there something wrong with having no hair?¡± Jacky asked.


    I turned back and saw the light of the fire gleam off his skull. I couldn¡¯t help smiling.


    ¡°I¡¯m worried I can¡¯t pull it off like you do.¡±


    Kappa, the bog creature, crawled into my lap. His murmuring voice sounded like it was bubbling. ¡°Pretty lady. Lovely, lovely lady.¡±


    Kappa had been named by Iset. He was too smart to be a pet, but he wasn¡¯t as mentally agile as the rest of us. Considering that, and his wide open heart, I wound up thinking of him as a child.


    He was barely above two feet tall when he was standing, but he seemed as comfortable crawling on all fours as he did walking on his hind legs. His hands and feet were webbed. He had a fin on the top of his head and fins on the sides of his head where I¡¯d expect his ears to be. I liked his green-brown-blue motif and huge, adoring eyes. He was so ugly-cute, I didn¡¯t even mind that he was getting my clothes wet.


    I smiled down at him and played with the fins on the sides of his face. He seemed to like that.


    ¡°Muscles can be built, and they can fade with a lack of use,¡± Jacky explained, ¡°but otherwise, your body will most likely stay as it is now.¡±


    ¡°Most likely?¡±


    ¡°I already told you, Emerra, you¡¯re a rare creature. Our knowledge of revived physiology is limited, and how the body works greatly depends on how the person came to be revived. In time we¡¯ll learn more. For now, it might be wise to behave as you did before you died.¡±


    ¡°And are you all¡ªnot you¡ª¡± I said to Jacky. To the rest¡ª ¡°are you all revived?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± Iset said.


    Okay. That should have been obvious. I didn¡¯t look at Olivia. I thought she might be smirking again, and I knew she had good reason.


    I turned to the vampire, Darius Vasil. He went by ¡°Count¡± or ¡°the count.¡± He admitted he had no claim to the title, but he thought it was funny in that fastidious way he found certain things funny that no one else did.


    ¡°Once human, but I never died,¡± he said.


    He looked as if he was in his mid forties. His black and gray hair was thin, but what was left of it was cut short and smoothed back from his high forehead. He was classically handsome and the only one in the room who could match Jacky for fine clothing. It wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place if he¡¯d worn a cravat with his suit, but he¡¯d settled for a navy blue, silk tie.


    I turned to the wolfman. He stared at me.


    Before he could speak¡ªmaybe to spare him from the need to speak¡ªIset said, ¡°Kappa, Conrad, and Olivia are all alive.¡±


    ¡°And Igor?¡±


    Igor wasn¡¯t in the room. He¡¯d left after dropping off a tray full of coffee and tea. He acted like a servant, but when anyone talked about him, they made it sound like he was a normal resident.


    Normal being a relative term. Obviously.


    Iset¡¯s head turned toward Jacky.


    ¡°Igor is Igor,¡± Jacky said. ¡°He¡¯s been with us a long time.¡±


    That didn¡¯t answer any questions I had about him, but I decided not to press the issue. I didn¡¯t think they would be answered.


    ¡°And¡­I have to stay with you now because you revived me?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps I haven¡¯t been clear. I didn¡¯t revive you. That¡¯s not something I can do. You are simply one of the revived. As for staying with us, I think you¡¯d be comfortable here¡ªI try to make my home comfortable for beings that might not otherwise have a place in this world¡ªbut I¡¯m not your warden. You may go whenever you choose.¡± Jacky leaned forward. ¡°However, I hope you¡¯ll stay. At least for a while. The timing of your revival was a coincidence, but I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here. We need you, Emerra.


    There it was.


    I shifted in my seat. ¡°You want to use my eyes.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He said it with perfect simplicity. Such frankness seemed to fit Jacky.


    ¡°Am I the only one that has them?¡±


    ¡°The only one we know of.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t care that I¡¯ve never¡­never had a vision, or-or¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never had the eyes before.¡±


    ¡°This problem you¡¯re having¡ªis it big?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He inclined his skull to add emphasis.


    ¡°Will it be dangerous?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t answer that question until we know more about what happened. That¡¯s why we need you to take a look around for us. To see all the things that we can¡¯t see.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re death!¡±


    There was a second of silence. Did he ever miss the ability to blink?


    Did he ever have the ability to blink?


    ¡°I fail to see how that has any relevance to this problem. Or why you think it should.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you know everything?¡±


    The room around me laughed. Iset¡¯s laugh was a quiet chuckle. Olivia let out a hiss with her sneer. The count went ¡°ah!¡± and smiled, and I heard my first sound from Conrad Bauer; he scoffed.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a god, Miss Cole. I¡¯m only death. I¡¯m not omniscient. I¡¯m not even omnipresent.¡±


    ¡°Omnipresent?¡±


    Iset said, ¡°To be everywhere at the same time.¡±


    Jacky went on, ¡°The trouble with being the embodiment of anything is that you have a body, and bodies are limited.¡±


    I said, ¡°But you¡¯ve been around a long time, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But I¡¯m also a busy man¡ª¡±


    ¡°A single minded man,¡± the count said.


    ¡°Experienced in his work,¡± Iset added.


    Olivia cut to the chase with a single word: ¡°Oblivious.¡±


    ¡°I only have my personal experience,¡± Jacky explained. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything outside of that.¡±


    ¡°But I can see whatever it is you want me to see?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know, but we think you¡¯re our best hope. The eyes of the sphinx are legendary, after all.¡±


    I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. Olivia had turned her head away.


    The bog-creature stood up on my lap and reached his webbed hands toward my eyes. His gaze was mesmerizing, and he reached out so slowly¡ª


    ¡°Kappa,¡± Iset said, ¡°no touching.¡±


    ¡°No touching?¡± Kappa echoed.


    ¡°No. That would hurt.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Instead of prodding my eyes, he placed the bulbous tips of his thumbs on my temples. ¡°Legendary,¡± he whispered.


    It took effort not to laugh.


    ¡°Legendary,¡± I whispered back.


    Kappa tried to one-up me by widening his eyes. ¡°Legendary!¡±


    My voice quivered with mysticalness. ¡°Legendary.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Olivia said in a very grounding kind of way. ¡°It looks like she¡¯s going to be really¡­professional¡­about this.¡±


    I sobered.


    The witch stood up from her place on the couch. ¡°I think I¡¯ll be heading out. I have to finish a few things before the night is over. Unless you need me, Mr. Noctis?¡±


    ¡°No, but thank you, Olivia,¡± Jacky said.


    The witch nodded to him, then left the room.


    There was the sound of a mug being placed on wood as Fake-Count Vasil put his cup on the mantle. I didn¡¯t ask what was in the mug, and I was glad it was opaque.


    ¡°As much as I would like to stay, I¡¯m afraid I also have things to do.¡± He bowed to me. ¡°Miss Cole, it was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope I¡¯ll get the chance to know you better.¡±


    He meant it. I could tell. How do you respond to such courtesy? I didn¡¯t know how to curtsy, even if I didn¡¯t have a bog-monster trying to eat the sleeve of my sweater.


    I managed a ¡°thank you,¡± which was, at least, honest.


    After he was gone, Jacky looked up at the wolfman. ¡°Conrad?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay.¡±


    Oh. Wow. So he could talk. The words seemed to roll right out from his massive chest. They were quiet, but there was a rumble in them that made my ears perk up. If they had been as pointed as his, he would have seen it. I liked his voice. I started plotting ways I could hear more of it.


    Did he regularly lecture at a college? Probably not. Could I con him into getting a job in broadcasting? Would he read to me at night?


    Then he turned his icy yellow eyes on me, and all my humor vanished.


    I¡¯d never taken a good look at his face before.


    He walked upright, and he wore jeans, a tee shirt, and a solid-colored flannel shirt with the sleeves cuffed up to his elbows. Judging from how naturally the jeans sat on him, he didn¡¯t have a tail. Since the top of my head barely came up to his shoulders, he looked mostly human. He seemed like a really fluffy human¡ªbut mostly human.


    Not his face though. That was all wolf. His muzzle was slightly shorter than a normal wolf¡¯s, but it was definitely canine. His thick fur was a fine mix of black, white, gray, brown, and blond, and his massive triangular ears sat on top of his head, as furry as all the rest of him.


    When his ears started flattening out to the side, I realized he probably didn¡¯t like the fact I was staring.


    I lowered my gaze. There was no sense in upsetting the man.


    ¡°So what¡¯s the plan, Mr. Noctis?¡± I said.


    ¡°Shall I take that to mean that you¡¯re willing to help?¡± Jacky asked.


    I nodded. I had nothing better to do¡ªactually, I had nothing else to do. All my end of life planning failed to include an ¡°after death¡± section, and despite what Jacky said, I felt like I owed him. Especially if he was going to let me stay.


    ¡°Excellent!¡± He slapped the arm of his chair with his bony hand. ¡°Tonight, I¡¯ll have Iset show you around. You may ask her any number of questions, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find her quite knowledgeable. Tomorrow, I¡¯ll take you to the murder scene.¡±


    ¡°The what now?¡±

 Chapter 3 - The Mummys Tour

    As we walked through the humongous mansion, I took a good look at my guide. I wanted to figure Iset out, but I didn¡¯t know how to judge someone by their bandages. About the only thing I could tell was that she was even more knowledgeable than Jacky had let on. As we walked, she gave me a running commentary that would¡¯ve been the envy of any professional tour guide.


    I lost track of the rooms around the time I learned there was one called ¡°the conservatory.¡± When there¡¯s a conservatory, you might as well give up because you aren¡¯t going to learn about them all in one tour. I made sure to pay attention to where the kitchen was, then I kind of let it all blur.


    Eventually, my exhaustion and bewilderment overcame my sense of good manners, and I interrupted the mummy.


    ¡°Okay, so, are you Egyptian?¡±


    The moment the question left my mouth, my face burned with embarrassment. Iset didn¡¯t rush me through it either. She gave me a nice, long, awkward silence to enjoy myself in.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said at last.


    I let out my breath with unconscious relief.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a dumb question, Emerra. Most people would have simply assumed, but you were smart enough to ask. I was mummified in Egypt. My father was Egyptian, my mother was from West Africa.¡±


    Iset¡¯s voice was low and smooth. When she wanted to sound reassuring, it was the most soothing sound in the world.


    I blathered on, ¡°It¡¯s just, your bandages look so new. Does magic mean the bandages don¡¯t age? Is it even magic? How would I know! But then you do look like an Egyptian mummy¡ª¡±


    ¡°But maybe someone more modern faked it?¡± She sounded amused.


    I shrugged.


    ¡°I have to change the bandages every decade or so. It¡¯s not an easy process for me, but it¡¯s better than trailing my dressings along the floor.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah. It¡¯d be the Three Stooges if someone stepped on them.¡± I glanced at the blank area where her face should have been, then looked away. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not upset,¡± Iset said. ¡°I¡¯m smiling¡ªor, at least, my soul is smiling. It¡¯s a shame you can¡¯t see it.¡±


    I raised my eyes.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you were worried about, isn¡¯t it?¡± she asked.


    I shrugged with only one shoulder.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you have a sense of humor. I know this is a lot to take in¡ªbelieve me, I know¡ªbut if you do decide to stay with us, a sense of humor will be invaluable.¡±


    She turned and walked on.


    I tagged along. ¡°Ms. Iset¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just Iset, please.¡±


    ¡°Iset, how long have you been here?¡±


    ¡°Here in this mansion? Since 1896. We bought it when the original owner died under mysterious circumstances.¡±


    My brain ran after that bait like the focus-bereft squirrel it was. ¡°What were the mysterious circumstances?¡±


    ¡°He made Jacky angry.¡±


    ¡°And that constitutes a mysterious circumstance?¡±


    ¡°The police certainly thought so. I think it¡¯s a mystery how anyone managed to upset Jacky that much.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s pretty even tempered?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s say that he tends to take the long view of things.¡±


    ¡°How long have you been with him?¡±


    The mummy stopped. When her body turned, I felt her eyes, hidden behind layers of bandages, watching me.


    ¡°Emerra, do you realize these are very personal questions?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be rude. I¡¯m just¡ª¡±


    ¡°Curious. That¡¯s understandable. But when Jacky said you could ask me questions, he meant you could ask about the mansion, or yourself and your condition. Or, perhaps, some of the strange circumstances you might encounter now that you¡¯ve opened your eyes.¡±


    My hands crossed in front of my body. I squeezed two of my fingers with my other hand¡ªmy old tell. ¡°Sure. I know. It¡¯s none of my business.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t. And yet you asked. Are you really that curious about me?¡±


    A weak smirk wavered at the edge of my mouth. ¡°I drove the nurses crazy.¡±


    After a moment of silence, Iset said, ¡°The simplest answer is that I¡¯ve lived with Jacky since 1058 BC, so we¡¯ve been together for almost thirty-one hundred years. If you want anything more exact than that, remember to take into account the discrepancies between calendars.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help laughing. ¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡±


    ¡°And, Emerra,¡± I could hear the teasing in her voice, ¡°you¡¯re not supposed to ask a woman her age.¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding? Old Ms. Elstein bragged about being ninety, and she¡¯s got nothing on you.¡±


    Iset turned and began climbing the huge sweep of the front stairs. ¡°And how old are you?¡±


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    I hesitated. ¡°How long was I buried for?¡±


    Now there¡¯s a question you don¡¯t get to ask every day.


    ¡°A week.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I tried not to sound disappointed. ¡°I¡¯m almost twenty.¡±


    That was my standard answer. When I was nineteen and one month, I was ¡°almost twenty.¡± With a pang, I realized I would never make it to twenty. Not really.


    Iset stopped and turned to me. ¡°How close were you to your birthday?¡±


    ¡°I was born on October twenty-sixth.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Do we celebrate birthdays or deathdays here? Or is it the day when we were immortalized and-or raised from the dead?¡± I made a face. ¡°Geez. This could get complicated.¡±


    ¡°What would you like to celebrate?¡±


    ¡°Is all of them an option?¡± I saw Iset¡¯s shoulders shake with her silent laughter. ¡°What? I like cake!¡±


    ¡°Come along, child.¡±


    We continued climbing.


    ¡°Sure, you can call me that. I bet you could call anyone that.¡±


    ¡°I can and often do.¡± She raised a bandaged finger. ¡°Except with Darius.¡±


    ¡°The count? Is he older than you?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. He was made immortal in 1918.¡±


    At least the math was easy. ¡°Almost a century?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s practically still a baby, but the man has his dignity, and I won¡¯t be the one to rob him of it.¡±


    ¡°What about Igor?¡±


    ¡°Igor is¡­different. He¡¯s younger than me, but he doesn¡¯t really qualify as a child. Oh, dear. You¡¯re proving my lie. Perhaps I only think of them all as children.¡±


    ¡°You could call Kappa a child.¡±


    ¡°I could. He really is a child. At least for his species.¡±


    ¡°How old is he?¡±


    ¡°My research indicates he¡¯s around sixty.¡±


    I choked. ¡°He¡¯s older than me?¡±


    ¡°And yet he retains that child-like manner. Also, he seems to like you.¡±


    ¡°What about the others?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how old Conrad is, but he came to us as an adult, and he¡¯s been here for five years. Olivia, of course, is sixteen.¡±


    I was surprised to find out my guess had been correct. The little witch was, in fact, a little witch. I had hoped there might be someone younger than me around, but my relief was spoiled by the fact Olivia knew a lot more than I did about the world we were in. It¡¯s hard to play senpai when you¡¯re a walking pile of ignorance.


    ¡°Why would it be obvious she¡¯s sixteen?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s why she¡¯s here. She¡¯s Jacky¡¯s apprentice.¡±


    I nodded as though that might mean something to me and resolved to figure it out later.


    We reached the second floor. Iset motioned to the hall on our left with a wave of her hand.


    ¡°My room, the guest rooms, and the shared bathroom. Olivia is tucked back there.¡± She pointed behind the stairs, then motioned to the hall going the opposite way. ¡°This leads to the rest of the rooms and the back hall. The back stairs lead directly into the kitchen.¡±


    ¡°This place is so huge. How does Mr. Noctis afford it all?¡±


    ¡°He makes a killing in long term investments.¡±


    She looked back at me. I couldn¡¯t see her eyes, but I knew that¡¯s what she was doing, and I knew she caught sight of my idiot grin.


    ¡°Are puns like that allowed around here?¡± I asked


    ¡°Puns like that are a vital part of our most important pastime.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Seeing how many of them go over Jacky¡¯s skull.¡±


    ¡°Are you the reigning champion?¡±


    ¡°For several centuries and in five different languages.¡±


    I gazed around the great landing. It¡¯s wide windows went from two feet above the floor, to two feet below the top of the lofted ceiling. The side walls were decorated with beautiful art. The furniture was all tasteful, and the couches looked cozy.


    ¡°And he uses the money to keep up the house?¡± I said.


    ¡°Houses. We have more than one. Jacky likes to live well.¡±


    ¡°I can see that.¡±


    As we were going down the hall, I stopped in front of a framed scrap of paper and pointed. Words had failed me, but Iset knew her duty as my guide.


    ¡°Picasso,¡± she said.


    ¡°Is it an original?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. Jacky paid for the framing, but the sketch was a gift.¡±


    I marveled at it.


    ¡°Do you like art, Emerra?¡±


    ¡°When I get the chance,¡± I muttered, still staring.


    ¡°Do you draw?¡±


    ¡°Some. It was mostly grade school stuff. I wanted to take art in high school, but that didn¡¯t work out.¡±


    ¡°You went to a public high school, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    I decided to simplify by saying yes. ¡°At least, I did until I was a junior.¡±


    ¡°And then?¡±


    ¡°Then I got sick.¡±


    Nonchalance. Suitable for all occasions and it goes with everything.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Iset said.


    We walked on.


    ¡°Darius¡¯s room is in the back of the hall¡ª¡±


    ¡°Darius? Shouldn¡¯t¡­shouldn¡¯t he be¡ªI don¡¯t know¡ªin a cellar or something?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re ever bored, you should ask Darius to watch a few vampire movies with you. Or history movies. I¡¯m afraid you won¡¯t hear any dialog, but his indignation over their inaccuracies is very entertaining.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°I take it he doesn¡¯t burn up in the sun?¡±


    ¡°No, but he is mostly nocturnal, so do try to be quiet during the earlier parts of the day. His room is soundproofed, but his hearing is excellent.¡± She motioned to her right. ¡°That¡¯s Conrad¡¯s room, and this is your room¡±¡ªshe opened the door on her left as wide as it would go and swept her bandaged arm through the threshold¡ª¡°for as long as you want to stay with us.¡±


    I stepped inside and turned on the light.


    The room was large enough, it not only contained a queen-sized bed, but a whole seating arrangement. There were two armchairs with a small side table tucked between them. Next to them was a desk and chair. Several windows were spaced along the outside wall.


    The decor was simpler than I thought it would be, given the age of the house. There were lots of clean lines and muted colors. It was as if a designer had been told to create a modern room that wouldn¡¯t ruin the Victorian vibe.


    Full credit to the designer¡ªhe¡¯d done a good job.


    ¡°If you want to bring in anything or get rid of anything, that won¡¯t be a problem,¡± Iset said. ¡°All you have to do is talk to me or¡­well, you¡¯d best talk to me for now. Your attached bathroom and closet are through there. I¡¯m afraid the closet is empty at the moment. I managed to talk Jacky out of attempting to buy you clothes.¡±


    I stared around in wonder. ¡°Why is he doing this?¡±


    ¡°He likes to think his taste in fashion is so superior to everyone else¡¯s that they would naturally defer to him.¡±


    ¡°Why is he doing this¡ªthis! Not ¡®why would he do that.¡¯¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Emerra. I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    I gestured to the room. ¡°Is he trying to bribe me or something?¡±


    Iset¡¯s head turned as if she was gazing around the place. It stopped once she was facing me.


    ¡°You look uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°Good! I feel uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°This is what our guest rooms look like. The only difference is that your bathroom is attached. Jacky¡­¡± Iset sighed. ¡°Jacky isn¡¯t trying to bribe you. Don¡¯t misunderstand me¡ªhe wants you to stay, but he wants you to want to stay. Bribing you would defeat the purpose.¡±


    ¡°Jacky doesn¡¯t even know me.¡±


    Iset came toward me. For the barest moment, my mind flashed back to a million bad movies featuring mummies in gruesome wraps, groaning as they lurched toward their terrified victims. But then she put a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°It¡¯s true that he doesn¡¯t really know you, but he has high hopes for you.¡±


    ¡°Because of my eyes.¡±


    ¡°For a lot of reasons. Too many to go into right now, and many that are not my place to mention. You¡¯ll have to talk to him.¡±


    Iset moved her hand and continued in a more business-like tone, ¡°Olivia¡¯s agreed to let you borrow a few outfits until we can get you your own wardrobe.¡±


    ¡°But what if I decide not to stay?¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯ll still want some clothes.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like being given things,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°That can be a fair and honorable attitude. It can also be a protective one. But this time, I think it¡¯s impractical. If it makes you feel better, assume that your clothes will be a payment for the services you¡¯ll be rendering tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, about that¡­¡±


    She cocked her head to the side.


    ¡°A murder?¡±


    Her voice suggested amusement: ¡°Oh, Emerra. You don¡¯t think we¡¯d need your help for something as simple as a murder, do you? No. A murder is only the start of the problem.¡±


    She turned and went back to the door. ¡°I can show you the third floor and the attics later. They¡¯re mostly empty. For tonight, you should get some sleep.¡±


    I was still brooding over her previous comment, so it wasn¡¯t until the door shut behind her that I processed her recommendation.


    ¡°Do I even sleep?¡± I yelled at the closed door.


    It didn¡¯t answer.

 Chapter 4 - A Discussion in the Study

    Jack Noctis was in his study. Conrad Bauer and Kappa were with him. When Iset came in, Conrad looked up from the game of chess. Jacky did not.


    ¡°Well?¡± Noctis asked.


    ¡°She¡¯s uncomfortable,¡± Iset said.


    Jacky lifted his eye sockets from the board in front of him. ¡°Is it the room?¡±


    ¡°She says she doesn¡¯t like to be given things.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Kappa had been playing around on Jacky¡¯s desk, but he abandoned it, ran over to Iset, and leapt into her arms.


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t,¡± Iset said. ¡°You¡¯ll remember, I tried to explain to you that this might be a problem.¡±


    Jacky held perfectly still for a second, then shrugged the bones that made up his shoulders. ¡°She¡¯ll get used to it.¡±


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    Conrad¡¯s eyes went from the skeleton in front of him to the mummy, but he couldn¡¯t read their nonexistent expressions.


    The wolfman moved his bishop. ¡°She didn¡¯t ask about her family.¡±


    ¡°What was that?¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°Fam-ahh-ly,¡± Kappa chattered in a sing-song voice.


    Bauer said, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be the first thing most people would ask? ¡®Can I see my family?¡¯ She didn¡¯t even mention them.¡±


    ¡°Given her background, that¡¯s less surprising,¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°What¡¯s her background?¡±


    ¡°She was a ward of the state.¡±


    ¡°She looks too old for that.¡±


    ¡°Her cancer was discovered when she was under eighteen. Since then, she¡¯s lived in various hospitals and hospices. It was easier than trying to find her another foster home while she was undergoing treatment. She¡¯s an only child, and she was taken from her father when she was nine years old.¡±


    ¡°Abuse?¡±


    ¡°Neglect.¡±


    ¡°Mainly neglect,¡± Iset corrected. When Jacky looked at her, the mummy said, ¡°You can¡¯t reach that level of neglect without emotional trauma, but it¡¯s harder to document.¡±


    Jacky nodded.


    ¡°How do you know all this?¡± Conrad asked.


    Noctis moved his knight. ¡°There¡¯s very little I can¡¯t find out when I want to know something.¡±


    ¡°What happened to her mother?¡±


    There was a whisper of air, like the ghost of a breeze. Conrad¡¯s ears twitched as he tried to identify the sound.


    With some surprise, he realized that Jack Noctis was sighing.


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the things I don¡¯t know,¡± the skeleton said.

 Chapter 5 - The Start of the Problem

    I stared at the red-brown stain covering the mutilated back of the armchair. Thankfully, it was dry, but at some point in the past it had been wet enough to roll down and soak the cushion below it.


    ¡°This is the start of the problem?¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± Jacky said from behind me.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to give me a second.¡± I motioned to the mess. ¡°The only other death I¡¯ve been in the room for was my own. It was a lot more personal, but at least it wasn¡¯t gruesome.¡±


    ¡°Do you see anything?¡±


    ¡°A lot of blood. Oh, geez. Is that brain-stuff?¡± My stomach heaved.


    That morning I¡¯d been relieved to learn I could still enjoy eating. Now I could see one or two downsides to it.


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± Jacky said. ¡°Professor Wayde was shot in the chest.¡±


    I eyed the skeleton. ¡°Did you actually see the body, or do you know how everybody dies?¡±


    ¡°I saw the body. I arrived while the police were here.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    I resisted the urge to ask if the police had noticed him.


    To get to Professor Wayde¡¯s trendy, century-old home, we had to walk through the college where he¡¯d worked. Classes had been dismissed a minute before. We wove our way through crowds of students. There were a few glances directed at my bald head, but none at my companion¡¯s.


    Which I found distinctly unfair.


    When I had raided Olivia¡¯s closet that morning, I discovered that black was her signature color and dresses were her go-to outfit. I didn¡¯t think I could pull off the full-witch style, so I counted myself lucky when I found a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, but I still looked like the world¡¯s most devoted goth-punk, complete with a pale, skinny body, and a shaved head. I knew it looked edgy, but you¡¯d think a walking skeleton would distract them a little.


    I had asked Jacky if the students saw him. He said that was a good question. When I asked him for the answer, he said, ¡°Why ruin a good question with an answer?¡±


    Bony sot.


    ¡°And he was sitting in the chair when he died?¡± I asked.


    That was a dumb enough question, Jacky didn¡¯t see the harm in answering it.


    ¡°Yes. With a large hole in his chest.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°Okay. And what did you want me to do?¡±


    From the way Jacky put his fingers up to his skull, I got the feeling he regretted the fact he didn¡¯t have eyelids to rub.


    ¡°Emerra, look around. Do you see anything unusual¡ªanything aside from the blood stains?¡±


    I turned and wandered away from the small sitting area.


    Even if Jacky hadn¡¯t told me Trevon Wayde was a professor, I would have known. There were papers piled on every surface and books stuffed in every shelf. Where there weren¡¯t books, there were artifacts. Dozens and dozens of them. Even the walls were covered with them. A large African mask hung beside a small tapestry decorated with a magic circle. There was a framed old map up on another wall, sitting beside a crowded cork-board. Along the top of the bookshelves were dolls, figurines, and something that looked Egyptian.


    It was probably fake.


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    Either that, or Wayde had a mummy¡¯s organs, in a canopic jar, on his bookshelf.


    ¡°What was he a professor of?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Anthropology.¡±


    I nodded. That answer matched the decor. As I made my way behind Wayde¡¯s desk, I said, ¡°Are you sure he was a professor?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Jacky said with a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.


    I picked up the jacket that had been hanging off the back of Wayde¡¯s desk chair. It was tweed. There were patches on the elbows.


    ¡°I mean, either this was a man desperately trying to pretend he was a professor, or he was a professor who loved to make fun of himself, because there is no way this is anything but a farce.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Nevermind.¡± I put the jacket back. ¡°I¡¯ve looked around. The whole room is strange.¡±


    ¡°Human strange? Or¡­more strange?¡±


    I threw my arms up in a massive shrug. After lowering them, I said, ¡°Jacky, what were you hoping I¡¯d see?¡±


    ¡°His soul.¡±


    I stumbled into the desk chair beside me. Then it occurred to me that I was sitting in the chair of the deceased. Just as I was about to get up because of some weirded-out respect for the dead, I realized that, as a dead girl, I had more right to sit in that chair than almost anyone in the world.


    ¡°His¡­soul?¡±


    Jacky nodded.


    Even to me, my voice sounded forced. ¡°Sure. Yeah. Okay. What does a soul look like?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say. Each one appears different.¡±


    I did have eyelids, and I did rub them. With vigor. To make up for poor Jacky who must have been at least as exasperated as I was.


    ¡°All right. Let¡¯s start from the beginning,¡± I said. ¡°Can you tell when people are dying?¡±


    Jacky grabbed the second armchair¡ªthe one that had been across from Wayde when he was shot¡ªnot the bloody one¡ªand turned it so he could see me when he was sitting down.


    As he lowered himself into the chair, he said, ¡°Yes, but not in the way you think. I can sense when any living thing is dying in the same way that you can see every single particle of light that passes through your field of vision. There are so many things dying, every moment of every day, that the experience becomes a stream of perception¡ªa flow of sensory experience. The difference is that if I asked you to pick out a single photon, you couldn¡¯t do it, whereas I can focus in on the death of any single being.¡±


    Overcome by the sheer scope of it, I could only mumble my sarcasm: ¡°That must be a nice little talent.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t the important part.¡±


    ¡°What is?¡±


    ¡°I can tell when it goes wrong.¡±


    I won¡¯t lie, I got chills.


    Jacky went on. ¡°Trevon Wayde died, but his soul did not pass over. Nor did it get caught. When I came to see what had happened, I could sense no trace of it¡ª¡±


    ¡°But if you can¡¯t even sense it, what good could I do?¡±


    ¡°There are certain magics that can make it difficult for me to sense a disembodied soul. They¡¯re rare, but they exist. If it had been something like that, then you should have been able to see it.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Emerra.¡±


    ¡°I can see souls when you can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s odd how quickly you picked up on the fact I have no vocal cords, but you failed to notice I have no eyes.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯ve never seen a soul before! Or have I? Would I know what a soul looks like?¡±


    ¡°The people who can see them don¡¯t seem to struggle with identifying what they are.¡±


    My head bobbed in a dumb nod. At that point, I was doing nothing but taking in facts. Sense would have to come later.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, ¡°but I don¡¯t see anything that looks like a soul.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The word was intoned¡ªlike a low bell with ominous echoes. ¡°That means it¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°Gone?¡±


    ¡°Taken.¡±


    ¡°Someone can take a soul?¡±


    Jacky stood up and turned, but he stopped with his hand still on the back of the armchair. ¡°A few people. Very interesting people. This is a serious matter.¡±


    The tip of his index finger bone tapped on the chair, then he started toward the door. I stood up and followed him.


    As we walked toward the front of the house, I said, ¡°What kind of serious are we talking about?¡±


    ¡°That would depend on how interesting they are.¡±


    He took my hand so we could pass through the front door without having to open it or bother with the police tape that was completely failing to do its job.


    As we walked down the sidewalk, I jammed my hands into the shallow pockets of my jeans. My sense of guilt and unease grew with every step. When the weight was enough to make my stomach sink, I forced myself to speak.


    ¡°Jacky?¡±


    He hummed to show he was listening.


    ¡°Jacky, what if¡­what if my eyes aren¡¯t working? What if the soul was there, but I can¡¯t see it?¡±


    In the privacy of my head, I added, What if I¡¯m no use to you?


    ¡°Your eyes are working. If you couldn¡¯t see the soul, it¡¯s because it wasn¡¯t there.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know,¡± I grumbled.


    Jacky stopped and turned to face me.


    I raised my voice. ¡°You don¡¯t know! Maybe my eyes are defective or something.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    He sounded Certain. Capital-C¡ªCertain.


    ¡°How?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because the moment you opened your eyes, you saw me for who I was. I¡¯ve been around for a long time, and only one other person has ever managed that feat. They had eyes like yours.¡±


    His eyeless stare was getting heavy. I looked away.


    ¡°Trust me, Emerra. Not all of your powers are awake yet, but seeing a soul is a pastry stroll compared to recognizing me.¡±


    We walked in silence for a few feet.


    ¡°Jacky, did you mean ¡®cake walk?¡¯¡±

 Chapter 6 - Abraxas

    We were halfway through the campus, on our way back to the car, when Jacky pulled out his phone.


    ¡°Emerra, would you be willing to make another stop with me?¡±


    I smiled at the absurdity of the question. ¡°Gosh, let me check my calendar.¡±


    Jacky walked beside me, phone in hand. After a few steps, he said, ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°It was a joke, Jacky. I¡¯ve got nowhere else to be. I¡¯m happy to tag along.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He pressed on the screen and put his phone to his ear. ¡°Hello? Abraxas? This is Jack Noctis. I¡¯m well, thank you. I need to talk to you¡­I would prefer to do it in person.¡± He paused. ¡°It won¡¯t take long. I can meet you at Junco Park, but it¡¯ll take me about an hour to drive there.¡± Another pause. ¡°Shall we say ten minutes after ten? Excellent. The first bench along the trail. We¡¯ll see you there.¡±


    He hung up and tucked the phone back in his pocket.


    I was buzzing with curiosity, but I didn¡¯t know how much I could get away with when it came to asking death a bunch of questions.


    On the other hand, if he didn¡¯t want to answer one of them, all he had to do was tell me it was a good question.


    ¡°Friend of yours?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good question.¡±


    So much for that.


    One car ride later, we pulled into a graveled parking lot. The park itself was nothing but an inlet to a jogging trail that ran through the woods. The sign pointed out the broad dirt path. We followed it south until we came across the first bench, then sat down to wait for someone who may or may not have been friends with death.


    I started tapping the soles of my borrowed boots together and wondered how Jacky could sit so still.


    ¡°Time?¡± I said.


    ¡°A useful construct for making appointments. Otherwise, I find it a confusing concept.¡±


    ¡°Jacky, what time is it?¡±


    He pulled out his phone. As he put it back, he said, ¡°Ten-oh-nine. He should be here shortly.¡±


    ¡°Is he usually punctual?¡±


    ¡°Exactly so. Thus proving that punctuality isn¡¯t a virtue.¡±


    ¡°I thought punctuality was supposed to be the politeness of kings or something.¡±


    Jacky turned his skull toward me. ¡°What does politeness have to do with virtue?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to get into an argument about morals and civility with death. And not just because I wasn¡¯t sure how well I could defend my position.


    Instead, I gazed at the scenery.


    The black tree trunks were almost lost in the blaze of autumn colors around them. Some of the green leaves had morphed into an almost neon shade before their switch to yellow. The older red and orange leaves stood out against the vivid blue sky. The ones that had released their hold on life had fallen to the ground, to be swept away by the wind. I could see them peeking out from the dark undergrowth or drifting along the gray path.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful here,¡± I said.


    ¡°Is it?¡±


    It took me a second to realize Noctis wasn¡¯t being sarcastic or making fun of my admittedly basic tastes. His voice had been too simple, and when I glanced at him, his skull was rotating, as if he was searching for something in the trees.


    Before I could overcome my stupefaction, the person we were waiting for arrived, and I had a whole new chance to be stupefied.


    The name Abraxas had sounded a bit unusual, but I thought he might be foreign. I did not expect him to be a demon.


    He stood a little over six feet tall. There was a slight shine to his gray suit and red tie¡ªthe bright red tie that exactly matched his skin color. He had large, pointed ears and two curled horns that split out of his bald forehead. His smile showed too much of his teeth, and too many of them were sharp. His oversized eyes were completely white, but you could tell he wasn¡¯t blind. His eyes moved with too much purpose¡ªespecially when they fixed on me.


    ¡°Well, well. What do we have here?¡± He turned to Noctis. ¡°You didn¡¯t say you¡¯d have a friend with you.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think to mention it,¡± Jacky admitted.


    The demon held out his hand to me. ¡°I¡¯m Abram.¡±


    All I could do was stare at him.


    Jacky may not have thought politeness was a virtue, but he must have seen some value in it.


    ¡°Forgive her,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s never met one of your kind before.¡±


    The milk eye shifted to the skeleton. ¡°She can see me?¡±


    Noctis inclined his skull.


    The demon put his hand back in his pocket. ¡°Oh dear. There goes my biggest advantage.¡± To me, he said, ¡°I¡¯m still pleased to meet you. Any friend of Jacky¡¯s is worth knowing¡ªeven the ones that aren¡¯t as interesting as you.¡±


    I covered my face with my shaking hands.


    This was¡­hard. But was it really harder than being welcomed into a Victorian mansion by a walking, talking skeleton? Or meeting a vampire, a wolfman, and a mummy?


    I mean, a bog-monster had sat on my lap during breakfast. When I shared some of my food with him, he spat it back on my plate and announced that he didn¡¯t like toast.


    And was I really going to let a demon show me up when it came to manners?


    I took a deep breath and uncovered my face.


    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m still a little new at this.¡± I held out my hand. ¡°Would it be a bad idea for me to give you my name?¡±


    He laughed as we shook. ¡°Not at all. Unless we¡¯re under contract, the only thing I could do is use it to get your attention.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Emerra Cole.¡±


    ¡°Since you can see me, I can be either Abram or Abraxas¡ªwhichever you prefer.¡±


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    ¡°Are either of them your real name?¡±


    ¡°No, but they will get my attention.¡±


    ¡°Has anyone ever told you, you look really good in red?¡±


    He straightened his tie. ¡°Why, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Tolerance will do, Emerra,¡± Noctis said. ¡°You don¡¯t have to charm him.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t stop her, Jacky! I never get tired of compliments.¡±


    ¡°I know, but we can¡¯t stay here all day.¡±


    ¡°Wretched. Oh, well. Then what can I do for you two?¡±


    ¡°A soul is missing.¡±


    The demon clicked his tongue. ¡°What a waste. If they didn¡¯t have any use for it, they could have given it to me.¡±


    ¡°Did they give it to you?¡±


    Abraxas scowled. ¡°You think it has something to do with us?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m asking.¡±


    ¡°Jacky, we haven¡¯t had trouble with you in centuries.¡± His voice was clipped and frustrated. ¡°We¡¯ve abided by your rules¡ªwhat more do you want from us?¡±


    ¡°Something out of the ordinary has occurred and I need to know what. I want assurance that an infernal wasn¡¯t involved.¡±


    ¡°Do you plan on interfering with our deals now?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. What a human does with their own soul is their business. But if an infernal has interfered with the soul of Trevon Wayde, they will be compelled to prove that a contract existed.¡±


    The tension was enough to make my shoulders curl, but they only watched each other. Not a muscle on the demon¡¯s face twitched. Jacky¡¯s skull, of course, couldn¡¯t twitch.


    Abraxas slow blinked, then raised his eyes to the leaves above our heads.


    ¡°Of course, Jacky. We wouldn¡¯t want to upset you, and I, for one, treasure our good relations.¡±


    His smile was easy. I would have thought everything was fine, if it hadn¡¯t been for the micro-tone that had snuck into the word ¡°treasure.¡±


    Abraxas looked down at Noctis. ¡°I¡¯m glad that you thought to call me about this.¡±


    ¡°Do you know anything or not?¡±


    The demon sighed. ¡°Well, the fiends are required to tell me if they¡¯re calling in a debt¡ª¡±


    ¡°Required?¡±


    Abraxas grinned. So many pointy teeth. ¡°Oh, dear. Maybe you haven¡¯t heard. I¡¯m the new king. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t ask you to bow.¡±


    Ha! It seemed like punctuality was the politeness of kings.


    ¡°You have my condolences,¡± Jacky said.


    I remembered the bit about the pastry stroll and decided to help him out.


    ¡°I think the word is ¡®congratulations,¡¯¡± I muttered.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know much about hell¡¯s politics,¡± Jacky muttered back.


    There were more shadows on the demon¡¯s face when I glanced at it. Most of them fell across his smirk.


    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on being destroyed,¡± Abraxas said.


    ¡°Neither did your predecessor.¡±


    ¡°I would like to think I¡¯m more¡­capable¡­than she was.¡±


    ¡°A familiar refrain.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re straying from the topic! No souls have been taken recently.¡± Abraxas¡¯s head twitched to the side. ¡°And wouldn¡¯t you know if we had taken them?¡±


    ¡°Normally, yes. What about the hellhounds?¡±


    ¡°My, you really are stretching, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°You have to stretch to cover all the forts.¡±


    Abraxas¡¯s smile faltered. ¡°Bases, Jacky. ¡®To cover all the bases.¡¯ It¡¯s a baseball term.¡±


    ¡°Protecting a series of defensive forts calls for more effort than a game.¡±


    ¡°If it will make you feel more comfortable, I¡¯ll check the hellhounds, but I assure you, none have gotten out.¡±


    ¡°You sound certain.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°You have the devils under control?¡±


    ¡°No one can control a devil, but you can punish them. There are strict new rules in hell for any devil foolish enough to toy with this world, and the consequences are delightful.¡±


    ¡°What do you do?¡±


    ¡°I feed them to the hellhounds. So you see, my beloved puppies are all fat, happy, and unlikely to try to break free.¡±


    ¡°I wonder if the last king felt as confident in her knowledge as you do in yours.¡±


    The demon¡¯s nostrils flared, but that was the only sign that he¡¯d heard Big Jacky.


    Noctis added, ¡°Have any new deals been made?¡±


    ¡°You think a Faust might have done this?¡± Abraxas asked.


    ¡°I think nothing. I¡¯m trying to find possibilities.¡±


    ¡°Why are you asking about our magicians when this world has plenty of its own?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m asking everyone.¡±


    I was trying to be polite, but my curiosity was at its limit. I lurched forward on the bench. ¡°Sorry, but what¡¯s a Faust?¡±


    Abraxas turned his attention to me. Those white eyes made me shiver, but I was too eager to sit back.


    ¡°That¡¯s what we call people who are under contract. It¡¯s a fashionable nickname. Haven¡¯t you seen the play?¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Oh, it was all the rage a few hundred years ago! I thought everyone had seen it.¡±


    ¡°That was before her time,¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°I suppose.¡± Abraxas moved closer to me. ¡°Humans and demons occasionally find it advantageous to make deals with each other. Since we¡¯re infernal beings, we have a range of things that we can offer¡ª ¡±


    ¡°And in exchange, they give you their soul?¡± I said.


    His chuckle came out no louder than a whisper.


    ¡°It sounds unbelievable to you because you can see me. Try to imagine a handsome man in a nice suit¡±¡ªhe ran a hand over his crimson scalp¡ª¡°with perfect hair. He comes up to you, gives you his best smile, and asks you for something you barely even realize is there.¡±


    His voice was soft and compelling, but my skin was crawling so bad it felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out. How would I have reacted if he had looked human? Would I have laughed?


    ¡°Much less frightening, isn¡¯t it?¡± He gave me his best smile. The curve of his teeth shone in the sunlight. ¡°When I dress like this, even the ones that take me seriously think hell is nothing but another long business meeting. Appearances are everything.¡±


    ¡°What do you do with the souls?¡±


    ¡°We eat them.¡±


    My heart started beating as fast as a rabbit¡¯s.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Emerra Cole,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t think we could get you under contract, and we can¡¯t take a soul by force.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t let them,¡± Jacky said.


    My eyes moved between them. It felt like there was something in the space between their bodies. It wasn¡¯t a scattering of dry leaves and a few feet of air; it was power, knowledge, and ages, and all of it was far wilder and larger than anything my microscopic life had prepared me for.


    Jack Noctis said, ¡°Have there been any new Fausts?¡±


    ¡°The fiends have been working on one or two deals. I¡¯ll call you with the details this evening, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll find a magician among them. We haven¡¯t had a request like that in a long time.¡±


    ¡°What do people normally ask for?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see. What would you ask for?¡±


    I shut my mouth and bit the inside of my lips together for good measure. Even the world¡¯s dumbest rabbit would know better than to tell a fox its weakness.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Abraxas said. ¡°Let me see if I can guess.¡± He put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky. ¡°You¡¯re a little brave, and very easy-going¡­but you do ask a lot of questions.¡± When he lowered his all-white eyes, they stared into my black ones. ¡°You seem like the type that would ask for knowledge.¡±


    I unstuck my lips. ¡°Is that what other people ask for?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s odd, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯d think it would be riches or fame¡ªand I¡¯m not saying that people aren¡¯t obsessed with those things¡ªbut the type of people who¡¯re willing to deal with us all seem to be looking for something else. Knowledge and power. Those are the two commodities we trade in the most. That¡¯s what people sell their souls for.¡±


    ¡°Knowledge and power?¡± I repeated.


    ¡°Perhaps because it¡¯s so much harder to come by.¡± He eyed me. ¡°Let me know if you¡¯re ever willing to consider a deal.¡±


    Noctis said, ¡°Abraxas¡ª¡±


    ¡°I thought what a human did with their soul was their business, Jacky. You are willing to live by your own agreement, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Jacky eyed the demon for a second, then turned to me. When he did, Abraxas also looked my way. That was four funky eyeballs-slash-eye sockets too many for my comfort.


    I waved both hands in front of me. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m that curious.¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡± Abraxas flicked his hand, and a business card appeared between his fingers. ¡°In case you change your mind.¡±


    I took the card. It wasn¡¯t everyday a king was going to offer me his contact information, and I wanted to see his phone number. How good was hell¡¯s cell reception?


    The demon looked at Noctis. ¡°Is there anything else?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll call me as soon as you check on the situation?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always a pleasure to see you, Jacky.¡± Abraxas nodded to me. ¡°Ms. Cole.¡±


    I nodded back.


    He walked further down the path, deeper into the woods. Before the trees could completely hide his body, he disappeared between one step and the next.


    ¡°Huh!¡± I sat back. ¡°He seemed¡­polite.¡±


    ¡°Demons usually are,¡± Jacky said. ¡°They find it useful.¡±


    We stood up and headed toward the parking lot.


    ¡°Did you learn what you were hoping to?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Hoping to? No. But I learned what I expected to learn. It¡¯s unlikely Wayde¡¯s soul disappeared due to infernal influence.¡±


    ¡°Unlikely, but not impossible?¡±


    ¡°If Abraxas is the king now, I have no doubt he¡¯ll launch a full investigation. He can¡¯t afford to not know what¡¯s going on. When he calls me this evening, we should know, one way or the other, but I already suspect we¡¯ll have to look somewhere else for our answers.¡±


    ¡°So where do we go next?¡±


    The day was still young. I had no doubt there would be a next.


    ¡°There¡¯s an expert on monsters I¡¯ll have to get a hold of.¡± Jacky¡¯s voice dropped an octave, and he grumbled, dismally, ¡°Then I¡¯ll have to contact the local Torr.¡±


    After a thoughtful pause, I ventured, ¡°You don¡¯t sound too happy about that.¡±


    ¡°Trying to arrange a meeting outside of the regular appointment can be troublesome. I¡¯ll have to call an emergency meeting, then listen to them debate, endlessly, about whether or not they have to attend.¡±


    There was a longer, more thoughtful pause.


    ¡°Jacky, you¡¯re death.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell them it¡¯s come to the meeting or you¡¯ll come to get them?¡±


    He slowed. ¡°Do you think that would make a difference?¡±


    My next two steps had a little more bounce in them. ¡°I sure do! Hell¡¯s Highness may think it¡¯s all about appearances, but I think it¡¯s all in how you say things.¡±

 Chapter 7 - Meeting Mrs. Park

    Even with the threat of death, arranging a meeting was going to take some time. Jacky drove us back to the mansion so I could eat lunch.


    Dinner was always served in the formal dining room, but for breakfast and lunch, we ate in the kitchen. There was a table tucked in the back, next to the French doors that led out to the deck. The kitchen¡¯s table wasn¡¯t anywhere near as fancy as the one in the dining room, but it kept our food off the floor.


    Igor was cooking. It seemed like Igor was always cooking. I offered to help, but his brusque ¡°no¡± made it clear that my role was to sit at the table and let the man work.


    Olivia was already seated. I wondered if she might say something to me, but her eyes only strayed to me for a moment, then returned to the tome she was reading.


    Yes, tome. It was old, leather-bound, and massive.


    Between watching her read and watching Igor cook, I decided I¡¯d rather watch Igor.


    He was an odd figure. He was mostly bald, but what little hair he had came in several different shades, and all of it was clipped short. I didn¡¯t know if he could grow a beard. Bushy eyebrows hung over his mismatched eyes. He wore baggy clothes, and his apron dropped straight down from his stooped shoulders, making it hard to say if there were any other deformities, but he definitely had a hump over his right shoulder, and he walked with a limp.


    And he grumbled while he worked. He grumbled a lot. It didn¡¯t seem to matter if anyone was listening to him. The low murmur of discontent followed him wherever he went.


    I turned and whispered to Olivia, ¡°Did something bad happen?¡±


    ¡°Igor¡¯s always like that¡± was her curt response. She didn¡¯t look up from her book.


    ¡°Where¡¯s everyone else?¡±


    She still didn¡¯t look up. ¡°Iset and Jacky don¡¯t eat, Darius is asleep, and Kappa only eats twice a day.¡±


    It took me a minute to go through my mental checklist.


    ¡°What about the wolfman?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Conrad?¡± Olivia finally lifted her head. She glanced around the room, shrugged, and returned her attention to the book.


    Igor stopped grumbling and raised his voice to say, ¡°One of us will have to get Mrs. Park.¡±


    I had no idea who or what a Mrs. Park was. Considering the rest of the residents, she might have been a banshee hiding in the attic or a mermaid haunting one of the tubs.


    ¡°Not it!¡± Olivia called.


    ¡°I have to finish setting the plates.¡±


    ¡°I know you do that on purpose, Igor!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a damn shame, but it looks like it¡¯ll have to be you, Olivia.¡±


    I decided to speak up before the air between their glares caught fire. ¡°Um, I can do it.¡±


    Olivia shifted her glare to me. Igor¡¯s smaller eye turned my way, but the larger of his two eyes stayed fixed on Olivia.


    ¡°I just have to tell her that lunch is ready, right?¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Igor said.


    ¡°Cool. Where is she?¡±


    His larger eye joined its partner. ¡°By now she¡¯ll be up on the third floor.¡±


    Ah. A banshee.


    I pointed to the staircase in the corner of the room. ¡°And that goes all the way up?¡±


    ¡°With a stop on the second floor, yes.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t believe he thought he had to mention that, and I¡¯m pretty sure my expression told him so. Igor returned it with an expression that said he never underestimated the omnipotent and omnipresent nature of stupidity, and I couldn¡¯t blame him.


    ¡°Kay. I¡¯ll be back in a minute.¡± I hopped up and crossed over to the stairs. Before I went up, I said, ¡°Will I know her?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the one you haven¡¯t met yet,¡± Igor said in the smug tone of a man who¡¯s been proven right.


    When I arrived on the third floor, I had to walk through the back hall to get to the main hallway. That meant I had plenty of time to worry about the creature I was about to introduce myself to.


    The first door revealed an old sewing room that probably hadn¡¯t seen use since before television was invented. The only furniture that wasn¡¯t covered in dust sheets was a set of small drawers and a cupboard.


    It didn¡¯t look like anyone was there, but for all I knew, Mrs. Park might have been invisible.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I said to the empty room.


    There was no answer.


    The next door led to an equally empty bathroom. (No mermaid. I checked.) Across the hall was a large archway. When I walked over and peered inside, my jaw dropped so far I¡¯m surprised it didn¡¯t hit the ground.


    Mouth still gaping, I wandered into the room and turned in a full circle, trying to take it all in.


    The room spanned almost the entire front of the house. At both ends, twin chandeliers with ornate bronze details hung over the most elegant seating arrangements I had ever seen. The pinched area in the middle was dominated by a full-sized grand piano. The long south wall seemed to be made mostly of windows. Art and tapestries were hung up everywhere. Sculptures and vases filled up the gaps.


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    As I stared up at the vaulted ceiling, I whispered, ¡°Oh, geez.¡±


    My numb meandering brought me close enough to the piano I could tap on a few keys, to see if it was real. It was probably stupid of me, but it looked too big to be allowed.


    It wasn¡¯t a toy. The notes came out loud, clear, and in tune.


    I heard a murmur through the archway near the center of the room: ¡°Darius? Is that you?¡±


    Could that be the elusive Mrs. Park?


    I went into the hall. There was an open door left of the grand staircase. My steps slowed as I approached. I could hear noises¡ªshuffling sounds, a dull thump, and three random claps.


    What was going on in there?


    I peeked my head around the doorway. The room was crowded with boxes of every shape and size. Someone, or something, was moving around, but I couldn¡¯t tell what they (or it) looked like.


    Ever articulate, I started out with ¡°um,¡± then added, ¡°Mrs. Park?¡±


    ¡°Oh. You¡¯re not Darius.¡±


    The hunched shape straightened up and stepped out from the boxes. My brain tried to makes sense of the bright yellow hands and arms, and the bright blue body. Her face was half hidden, and a gray aura drifted around her when she moved.


    ¡°You must be Emerra,¡± the figure said. ¡°Iset told me about you.¡±


    I thought it¡¯d be best to get it out of the way as soon as possible. ¡°Right! What are you?¡±


    The figure paused, then removed the mask covering her nose and mouth.


    ¡°Why, I¡¯m a housekeeper, dear.¡±


    Oh.


    She beat some of the dust out of her clothes, briefly increasing her gray aura.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been putting off cleaning the storage room for so long I¡¯m embarrassed by it.¡± She realized the dust had mostly settled back into her clothes and made a hapless gesture. ¡°That¡¯s what I get, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    She stepped forward while removing her yellow gloves.


    Gloves, my brain noted. Her arms weren¡¯t actually yellow.


    Since I had ruled out the idea she was a monster, I had to admit, she appeared to be a normal old woman.


    Well, not like a normal, normal old woman. Under the blue apron, she wore a long bohemian dress dyed in various shades of blue and jade.. Her disk earrings could have been used as dinner plates, and she wore cherry red lipstick to compliment her wide smile.


    ¡°But I¡¯m so glad to meet you, Emerra. I was thrilled to hear you¡¯d be moving in. I¡¯m old enough, I love having young blood around.¡±


    As I shook her hand, I said, ¡°You are a human housekeeper, right? Not a vampire?¡±


    She let out a loud laugh. ¡°Oh, I can tell we¡¯re going to get along famously. Yes, I¡¯m a human. And I¡¯m not offended you asked! It took me for quite a turn when I first met Iset. That was ages ago. Of course I was here to welcome in Kappa and Conrad, but it still takes a moment, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    A moment. Sure.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s my turn to be impertinent,¡± she said. ¡°Your hair, dear?¡±


    My hand went up to my scalp. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Is it a hairstyle?¡±


    ¡°It is now. It used to be chemo.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s rough. I¡¯m sorry you had to go through it, but I hope you don¡¯t mind me saying, you pull it off well. Did you win against the cancer?¡±


    So Iset had told her about me¡­but not everything about me.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    She pumped her fist. ¡°Good for you! You¡¯re a fighter!¡±


    I grinned. ¡°What can I say? They can¡¯t keep me down.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the ticket, sweetheart. That¡¯ll keep you going forever. Look at me! Sixty-seven and still working hard.¡±


    I goggled at her. I would have put her closer to fifty than seventy! Something occurred to me. ¡°And you¡¯re not a witch?¡±


    ¡°Oh, well. You know.¡±


    I looked around the room, helplessly. Did I know? It seemed unlikely.


    ¡°I dabble,¡± Mrs. Park admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s mostly for fun, dear. Mostly for fun.¡±


    I didn¡¯t realize dabbling in magic was an option. I wondered if I could do it. I¡¯d have to ask Olivia.


    ¡°Do you live here, Mrs. Park?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no. I live down in town. After my husband died¡ªages ago, you don¡¯t have to look sad¡ªMr. Noctis invited me to move in, but I¡¯m a stubborn old thing. I told him that I wasn¡¯t about to leave my home of twenty years if all it would do was save some driving.¡± She waved her hand around in a meaningless gesture. ¡°Never live where you work, or you never stop working. That¡¯s the first rule of being a housekeeper. Besides, it¡¯s much easier to have people text me what they need from town so I can pick it up before I come in.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s brilliant,¡± I said.


    She sighed as she looked around the room. ¡°The second rule of housekeeping is never let the dust get so thick you can write in it.¡± She turned back to me. ¡°Nevermind that. What can I do for you, Emerra? Did you need something? I¡¯ll have to get you my phone number.¡±


    That wouldn¡¯t do much good since they hadn¡¯t buried me with a phone, but I didn¡¯t mention that to her.


    ¡°Igor wanted me to tell you that lunch is ready.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I completely lost track of time. Thank goodness for that darling Ingvar.¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh. You mean Igor?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Ingvar.¡± She reached behind her to untie her apron. ¡°He¡¯s such a sweet old thing.¡±


    ¡°You think Igor is¡­sweet?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡±


    The woman wasn¡¯t a banshee, she was a lunatic.


    She put her apron down. ¡°I know he grumbles a bit, but don¡¯t we all? And the poor man has probably had a bit of a rough time of it. After you get down past all the grumbling, you know he has a heart of gold.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it,¡± I said.


    ¡°I have to wash up. I¡¯ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.¡±


    My climb down the stairs was slower than my climb up had been. I was pondering over how deep Igor might have buried his golden heart and if it was to protect it from heart-thirsty pirates.


    When I reached the kitchen, I said, ¡°Igor, what¡¯s your name?¡±


    The larger of his two eyes rolled over to me. I waited for him to question my intelligence, but he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Igor. Four letters. I-G-O-R. You¡¯d think it wouldn¡¯t be difficult, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°And are you a sweetheart?¡±


    ¡°Good lord, no.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for setting me straight.¡±


    I turned back to the table. Olivia¡¯s brow was furrowed, and she threw up one of her hands.


    ¡°What?¡± I said.


    ¡°You think you can simply ask someone if they¡¯re a sweetheart? You think that¡¯s normal?¡±


    ¡°He answered me, didn¡¯t he?¡± When I slid into the chair next to her, she scooted away to give herself more room. ¡°Olivia, I hear that people can dabble in witchcraft.¡±


    Igor scoffed.


    ¡°No,¡± Olivia said.


    ¡°Just¡­no?¡±


    ¡°To be a witch means that you produce your own magic. A person is either born a witch or they¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°But Mrs. Park said¡ª¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Park reads books on New Age Wiccanism and collects pretty crystals, whereas I went through ten-years of intensive training at a three-hundred year-old school that specializes in American witchcraft. I think I know what I¡¯m talking about.¡±


    From over by the kitchen island, Igor said, ¡°Ah, but Mrs. Park is so glad to have someone around who shares a mutual interest.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Olivia droned, ¡°she is.¡±


    I looked up in time to learn that Igor¡¯s grin was lopsided, but then the moment of mirth was gone.


    Jacky strolled into the room.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Igor.¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon, Mr. Noctis.¡±


    ¡°Olivia.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Jacky,¡± she said. ¡°How did it go this morning?¡±


    If Olivia wanted to know what had happened, I wondered why she didn¡¯t ask me¡ªbut Jacky was already answering.


    ¡°We confirmed Wayde¡¯s soul isn¡¯t in the study. Our next task is to try to figure out where it might be. To that end, I¡¯ve arranged a meeting with the Torr for this evening. I have to ask them a few questions.¡± He turned to me. ¡°Emerra, would you come with me to the meeting? It¡¯ll take several hours to drive there and back.¡±


    The short silence ended with me blurting out, ¡°You want me to come?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He hesitated. ¡°I thought my question made that clear.¡±


    ¡°Why do you want me to come?¡±


    ¡°Shall we say, to see all there is to see.¡± Jacky put his skeletal hands behind his back. ¡°I think you¡¯ll find that, at least in these circumstances, I¡¯ll be asking for your help more often than not. You are, of course, welcome to refuse me¡ªthere would be no repercussions¡ªbut don¡¯t be surprised that I ask.¡±


    My head dropped in a slow nod. ¡°Okay. Sure. I don¡¯t mind helping.¡±


    ¡°Good. Please be ready to leave by six o¡¯clock.¡±


    Jacky left.


    Mrs. Park arrived in the kitchen via the back stairs and sat down at the table while Igor, still grumbling, put our plates down in front of us.


    I had to lean over to say to Olivia, ¡°Hey. What¡¯s a Torr meeting like?¡±


    The tome in her hands snapped shut. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never been to one.¡±

 Chapter 8 - The Torr

    As we drove into the city, Jacky gave me a brief explanation of the Torr.


    Many centuries ago, a bunch of interfering old men in what is now Britain decided that people with magic needed to be held accountable for any shenanigans they might get up to, but they wisely decided that people without magic might be too zealous in the execution of that duty, so they created a council with a representative from each of the four main branches of magic: sorcery, alchemy, witchcraft, and thrismageia.


    ¡°Thris-what-eia?¡± I said.


    ¡°Religious magic.¡±


    ¡°As in?¡±


    ¡°Any faith-based magic.¡±


    ¡°Like shamans and witchdoctors?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And they work side by side with¡­?¡±


    ¡°In this country, it¡¯s usually a priest, although our local Torr also has a rabbi who acts as an adviser and assistant.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Do they get along?¡±


    ¡°Most of the time. It helps that we don¡¯t debate dogma when we¡¯re in a meeting.¡±


    The original representatives only set down a few basic rules, but they enforced them ruthlessly. To this day, Torrs try to get by with as few rules as possible¡ªpresumably because it makes it so much easier to crush the fools who don¡¯t want to obey. Fewer rules, fewer fools.


    ¡°And it worked?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It worked well enough magicians across the world decided to adopt it. There¡¯s a Torr in every country. Wherever there¡¯s a higher concentration of magicians, we break the area into separate territories.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m kind of surprised that all those magicians are willing to follow the rules of only four people¡ªit is people now, right? Not a bunch of old men?¡±


    ¡°It was never a patriarchal order. Most witches are female. Since the Torr interferes as little as possible, they¡¯re tolerated fairly well. Magic is power. People with power value their freedom, but even the most powerful recognize the need for order.¡±


    Jacky turned the car. We swooped into an underground parking lot.


    He continued, ¡°And it¡¯s five people. A traditional Torr has five members.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s the fifth person?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    The florescent lights overhead flashed as we drove down the aisle.


    ¡°But what about the Torr in other countries?¡± I said. ¡°Who¡¯s their fifth person?¡±


    Jacky¡¯s skull twitched toward me, then he returned his attention to navigating the parking lot. ¡°Me.¡±


    I gave that fact a few seconds to settle into my brain. My brain requested additional verification.


    ¡°Wait. You¡¯re a member of every single Torr on this planet?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s sorcerers, witches, alchemists, religious magicians¡ª¡±


    ¡°When referring to the faith-based magicians in general, we call them thrismages.¡±


    ¡°Thrismages¡­and death?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of meetings.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not required to attend them all, but the Torrs know they can call me if they need me.¡±


    ¡°And what do you represent?¡±


    ¡°The last resort.¡±


    Yeah. That sounded about right.


    We parked the car and headed into the building. The elevator was fancy enough I could brace myself for the gilding I would see when the doors opened.


    There was gold on all the banisters, laced between the tiles, and worked into the decorations at the top of all the columns. The walls and columns were made of white marble. The thick rugs laid over the floor were a rich teal color.


    I didn¡¯t have a lot of experience with luxury, so the only thing I could compare the decor to was a hotel. A super-duper fancy one. But there weren¡¯t enough floors for it to be a real hotel, so it was probably a club of some kind.


    I followed Jacky up to the front desk (a massive piece of dark wood with carved leaves). The man behind the desk knew him.


    ¡°Good evening, Mr. Noctis.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Lane. Are the others already here?¡±


    ¡°Most of them, sir. Would you like any refreshments brought up?¡±


    ¡°No, but thank you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Lane passed him a key.


    It was then that Lane noticed me. He didn¡¯t say anything, but the way he looked at me made me think they didn¡¯t get many visitors. Either that, or I looked more goth-punk than I gave myself credit for.


    Jacky noticed Lane¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Emerra, this is Lane Ortiz. Lane, this is Emerra Cole. You¡¯ll need to know who she is.¡±


    We were too far away to shake, so I waved.


    Lane nodded to me, but said to Jacky, ¡°Why, sir?¡±


    ¡°Because she¡¯s with me.¡±


    Jacky headed toward the stairs. I had to run a few steps until I could catch up with him.


    ¡°Jacky,¡± I said, ¡°what do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here to inform the torrmen of the situation and secure their help in finding out what happened to Wayde¡¯s soul. The chance of them knowing anything is remote, but I want you to keep your eyes open. Watch for their reactions. Let me know if you notice anything.¡±


    ¡°Anything out of the ordinary?¡±


    ¡°Anything at all. I can¡¯t watch everywhere at once.¡±


    ¡°And if I don¡¯t notice anything?¡±


    ¡°Then you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Can I¡­I don¡¯t know¡ªCan I say anything? Am I allowed to talk?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Although¡­¡± He stopped and turned to me. ¡°If you have any questions, you may want to save them until the end. Then you can ask me.¡±


    ¡°Are questions bad?¡±


    ¡°No, but you have a lot of them, and I detest long meetings.¡±


    We resumed walking.


    When we reached the bottom of the stairs, a man called out, ¡°Jacky!¡±


    We turned.


    An older man jogged toward us. Judging by the salt and pepper color of his hair and the lines around his eyes, he had to be at least fifty, but his movements seemed spry, despite the fact his body was built like a barrel. At first I thought he wore all black, but then I saw a bit of white at his throat, almost hidden by his generous beard. What I knew about Christianity and Catholicism wouldn¡¯t be enough to fill a one-page, third-grade report, but even I knew that was a clerical collar.


    ¡°Good evening, Father Thorburn,¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll tell me what this meeting is about?¡± Thorburn said.


    ¡°When we¡¯re in the room.¡±


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    ¡°Always so paranoid.¡± Mid head shake, Father Thorburn caught sight of me. ¡°Hello. Who do we have here?¡± When he smiled, all the lines around his eyes deepened and bent up. He put out his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Father Thorburn. Are you the reason we¡¯re meeting tonight?¡±


    I smiled as I took his hand. ¡°I hope not. I¡¯m Emerra Cole. I¡¯m just a spectator.¡±


    ¡°A¡­spectator?¡±


    ¡°I brought her,¡± Jacky said.


    Behold! The magic answer that silences all questions! Thorburn¡¯s mouth snapped shut and the puzzled expression left his face. Even if he was still curious, it didn¡¯t look like he would say anything.


    Jacky started up the stairs. ¡°The others are waiting.¡±


    ¡°So they are,¡± Thorburn said.


    We climbed after the skeleton.


    ¡°Forgive me for asking,¡± the priest said in a conspiratorial whisper, ¡°but are you human?¡±


    ¡°As far as I know.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Thank you. One never knows with Jacky. I hope you¡¯re not offended.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, Father, I get it.¡±


    ¡°Before you ask, I¡¯m as human as they come.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the religious-mage representative, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you can tell! I thought I left my halo at home.¡±


    ¡°What can I say? You have a holy look about you.¡±


    From in front of us, Jacky said, ¡°I suspect it was the collar.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Jacky,¡± Thorburn said. ¡°I never would have guessed.¡± He winked at me.


    We chatted all the way up the stairs and down the long hall, but Thorburn broke off in the middle of his own sentence to hail a woman who was standing near a set of double doors. ¡°Ho! Dafna!¡±


    She put her phone in her pocket and looked up.


    Thorburn said to me, ¡°Come on, let me introduce you.¡±


    He took my elbow and pulled me forward.


    As we got closer, he said to me, ¡°This lovely lady is my better half.¡±


    His better half scowled at him. ¡°Father, you have to stop doing that. You make it sound like we¡¯re married.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not?¡±


    She turned to me. ¡°He¡¯s not allowed to be married, but he¡¯s allowed to make jokes.¡±


    As we shook, I looked her over. She was thin with chin length hair that rolled from her head in loose, dark curls. There were fewer laugh lines around her eyes, but I had seen them crinkle up when she forced the scowl.


    She only glanced at my lack of hair, then looked me in the eyes.


    Thorburn said, ¡°This is Emerra¡ªI¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve forgotten your last name.¡±


    ¡°Cole,¡± I supplied.


    ¡°Emerra Cole. She¡¯s with Jacky.¡±


    The woman raised an eyebrow and said in a quiet voice, ¡°I don¡¯t think Owen needs to know that.¡±


    Thorburn went on without seeming to hear, ¡°Emerra, this is Rabbi Dafna Adams.¡±


    Okay. A rabbi. I knew even less about them.


    ¡°Do I call you Rabbi Adams?¡± I asked.


    ¡°If you like. If you don¡¯t like, I can be Rabbi Dafna, Dafna, or, if you¡¯re feeling up for a little Yiddish, Reb.¡± She raised her voice. ¡°I¡¯m not so obsessed with titles I¡¯ve forgotten my first name.¡±


    Father Thorburn scratched his beard. ¡°I think they took mine away when they ordained me. Is everyone else here?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re inside.¡±


    ¡°Father,¡± Jacky said, ¡°I know that you¡¯re excited to introduce Emerra, but do you think you can wait until after the meeting? Reynell said she didn¡¯t have time to spare.¡±


    ¡°If I must. If they¡¯ll let you get away with that.¡±


    ¡°I think I can manage them.¡±


    Jacky opened both doors at once and strode into the room. The three of us followed.


    ¡°Good,¡± Jacky announced as he entered. ¡°Since we¡¯ve all gathered, this won¡¯t have to take long. I appreciate the fact you came.¡±


    The room had a large round table. Three people were already seated there.


    Closest to the door was a clean-shaven, middle aged man. He was younger than Thorburn, but he had the same gray-white in his hair. He wore glasses over his down-turned eyes, and he gazed at me curiously.


    Beside him was a woman who looked no older than me. Her dark blond hair was pulled away from her face, making it¡¯s angles look more severe. She glanced at me, then turned her attention to Jacky. She was the only one in casual clothes.


    At the back of the table was a man who looked like he was in his late twenties. He wore a suit and tie¡ªwhich might sound conservative, but it wasn¡¯t. The colors were modern, fashionable, and he looked great in them. He was so handsome, a small shock ran through my system when I saw him. My face burned as his eyes followed me while I crossed the room. He didn¡¯t look away until Jacky spoke.


    ¡°If you¡¯re ready,¡± Jacky said, ¡°I¡¯ll lock the doors.¡±


    The torrmen all looked at each other. There was a general nodding of heads as Dafna and Thorburn sat down next to each other. I tried to find a place in the back of the room where I could see as much as possible.


    When Jacky locked the door, I thought I saw a flash of blue light shine out from the keyhole. Noctis put the key in his pocket and turned around.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re all curious, so I won¡¯t waste time. A soul is missing.¡±


    There it was¡ªthe cue I¡¯d been waiting for. I looked from face to face, hoping my supernatural eyes might kick into gear and let me see the guilt pouring out from them.


    But that didn¡¯t happen. Every last face stalled with no emotion at all. Not one of them knew how to react. Then slowly, as if each expression was being pressed into stiff clay, their faces took on various measures of concern, confusion, and frustration.


    ¡°Wha¡ªwhat do you mean?¡± the man with glasses said.


    ¡°A man was murdered, but the soul didn¡¯t cross over¡ª¡± Jacky started.


    ¡°You¡¯re talking about a ghost?¡± Thorburn asked.


    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t caught. It¡¯s gone, and I need to find out what happened to it.¡±


    Suit and Tie leaned forward and put his arms on the table. ¡°Could this be the work of an infernal?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m already looking into that, but I wanted to talk to you about the possibility of human involvement.¡±


    It was subtle, but the attention of everyone in the room drifted to the blond woman sitting at the table.


    Or maybe it wasn¡¯t very subtle. She certainly noticed.


    She rolled her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was fast and bold. ¡°Right. It¡¯s always the alchemists. What would we want a soul for?¡±


    Suit and Tie flipped his hand palm up as a shrug. ¡°A new form of energy?¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t joke about that,¡± Dafna said.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t joking.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t give her ideas,¡± Thorburn said. It¡¯s possible he was joking, but no one laughed.


    The young woman said, ¡°Harnessing spiritual essence is only a theory.¡±


    ¡°Have you tried it?¡± the man with glasses asked.


    ¡°Not me personally.¡± She hesitated, then announced, ¡°And the ones who might be experimenting wouldn¡¯t use human souls.¡±


    ¡°Do you know that for sure?¡± Suit and Tie said.


    The young woman glared at him.


    ¡°Reynell,¡± Jacky said.


    When the young woman looked up at Noctis, her sour expression vanished.


    He continued, ¡°Either someone has stolen something immeasurably precious, or they¡¯ve ended something meant to be eternal. There are no higher crimes I can think of. Do you know for certain?¡±


    She lowered her eyes. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Can you look into it for me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need your report as soon as possible.¡±


    Reynell nodded.


    ¡°Do you know who to call?¡± Suit and Tie asked.


    ¡°I know.¡± Reynell sounded annoyed.


    Suit and Tie shrugged.


    ¡°Uhler?¡± Jacky said.


    The man with the glasses looked up.


    Jacky went on, ¡°Could this have been a witch?¡±


    Uhler squirmed in his seat. ¡°Is the magic possible? I suppose. The good news is that there are only a few witches with enough power to pull off something like that.¡±


    ¡°A few in our area?¡± Dafna asked.


    Uhler smiled. ¡°Oh, no. There¡¯s only a few in the world.¡±


    ¡°What if they worked together?¡± Suit and Tie asked.


    ¡°Witches don¡¯t normally do that.¡±


    I was so busy listening to the conversation, it wasn¡¯t until that moment that I realized I had made a few bad assumptions.


    The young woman was the alchemist.


    The other woman was a rabbi.


    I was out of women.


    That round-faced man in a sports coat was, in fact, a witch.


    There was no reason he couldn¡¯t be. Olivia had said witches were people born with the ability to produce their own magic. Jacky had only said most witches were female.


    That meant Suit and Tie was the sorcerer.


    ¡°Could they work together?¡± Jacky asked.


    Uhler nudged his glasses even though they were already at the top of his nose. ¡°It decreases the chance of the spell working, but if they were in tune enough, it¡¯s possible. But I¡¯m a bit like Klara.¡± He motioned to the alchemist. ¡°I can¡¯t think why a witch would want a soul. We can¡¯t use them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need you to ask around.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Jacky turned to Suit and Tie. ¡°Mr. Ashworth?¡±


    The sorcerer pulled his arms from the table, interlaced his fingers, and rested them in his lap. ¡°What kind of magic are we talking about here? The soul is gone, but it doesn¡¯t sound like you know if it was stolen or destroyed.¡±


    ¡°For either of those things to occur, it would have required magic.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Ashworth sat up straight in his chair. ¡°I know that we have a few spells that could seal a soul. I¡¯m less certain about destroying one. Either way, the spells would be rare and highly controlled. Even our masters would have to research them and call in a few other masters to help set it up.¡±


    ¡°Do you know who to talk to?¡± Jacky asked.


    Ashworth smiled. ¡°I have the top three schools on speed-dial. All the rest are in my contact list. Don¡¯t worry, Noctis. If the answer¡¯s in my corner, I¡¯ll find it.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Jacky turned. ¡°Father Thorburn.¡±


    For the first time since I¡¯d met him, Thorburn wasn¡¯t smiling. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s unthinkable.¡±


    ¡°I understand that you¡¯re no longer the only exorcist on the continent. Two more have been found.¡±


    ¡°They have. That brings our grand total up to three. We know each other personally. Sorrel won¡¯t even do the work anymore.¡± He motioned to Dafna. ¡°There¡¯s nothing in her craft that could do something like that, so you¡¯re looking at either me or Jones.¡±


    ¡°Sorrel still has the power, and there may be others. Of all of the magical branches, yours is the one that deals most often with souls.¡±


    ¡°Disrupting the course of a human soul isn¡¯t something we would do.¡±


    ¡°People have acted against their professed creeds before, Father.¡±


    Dafna spoke up: ¡°Were they thrismages?¡±


    ¡°One or two.¡±


    ¡°What happened to their magic?¡±


    Jacky paused, then said, ¡°Ah.¡± He turned his eye sockets to Thorburn. ¡°You understand, I will still have to ask you to make inquiries.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I will.¡±


    Reynell asked, ¡°What did happen to their magic?¡±


    ¡°It left them,¡± Jacky said. He raised his skull and spoke to the whole room: ¡°Have there been any rumors about someone experimenting?¡±


    ¡°Experimenting with stealing a soul?¡± Ashworth said. ¡°Not likely. Even if you had a good reason for doing that kind of magic, I can¡¯t imagine you¡¯d tell anyone. But to do it for kicks? That would take a perverse personality.¡±


    ¡°Why would it have to be for fun?¡± I asked.


    Oops.


    The whole room turned to look at me.


    Ashworth smiled. It had looked charming enough when he was aiming it at Jacky. When he aimed it at me, I felt my heart stutter. ¡°Noctis always rushes us into things. We didn¡¯t get a chance to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Emerra Cole.¡±


    Thank god, I could at least manage my name.


    ¡°Emerra, do you know much about magic?¡±


    I shook my head while wondering if I was about to be skewered for my ignorance, but Ashworth went on, as kind as anything.


    ¡°Some magicians have the power to manipulate magic from the spiritual realm, but doing anything with spiritual matter itself is difficult. As Miss Reynell said, using it is only a theory. Storing it is about all we can do, and most of us can¡¯t do it for long. If it serves no practical purpose, then the only reason I can think of for stealing a soul would be for fun.¡±


    ¡°Not revenge?¡±


    They were staring at me again.


    I shrugged with my whole body to hide the fact I was trembling. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t know about you guys, but now that I know I have a soul, I feel kind of protective of it. I wouldn¡¯t want someone stealing it ¡®cause¡ªwhat would happen to me? And I really wouldn¡¯t want an enemy to have it.¡±


    My voice had grown weaker as I blathered on. When I finished the last sentence, I shut my mouth. Oh, well. The idea was out there. Good enough.


    Ashworth¡¯s eyes widened. He turned to Jacky.


    ¡°If it was stolen for a personal reason, that could give us some direction. Do we know the victim?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± Jacky said. ¡°He was a professor at a local college. He wasn¡¯t a magician.¡±


    ¡°A professor?¡± Thorburn said. His voice was sharp.


    ¡°What was his name?¡± Uhler asked.


    ¡°Professor Trevon Wayde,¡± Jacky said. ¡°He was an anthropologist.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need supernatural eyes. A blind man would have seen the way Ashworth, Uhler, and Thorburn all looked at each other.

 Chapter 9 - Thorburns Story

    ¡°I got a call from Both,¡± Thorburn said.


    Both? I thought. Both of what? Both who?


    But Jacky didn¡¯t seem confused.


    Dafna and Reynell had excused themselves when they realized they weren¡¯t needed. We were left alone with the men of the Torr.


    The priest continued, ¡°She said that a man named Trevon Wayde had come in with an item purporting to be an ancient Egyptian scroll written by the magician priests.¡±


    Thorburn paused for a moment, but Jacky didn¡¯t feel the need to interrupt him. He went on.


    ¡°Since it was a religious text, it fell into my domain, but there are so few of us, I didn¡¯t have anyone I could send out.¡±


    ¡°But you did send someone out?¡± Jacky asked.


    Thorburn opened his mouth, but Uhler spoke over him.


    ¡°His current handler is a sorcerer by the name of Joel Aubert.¡±


    Jacky turned to Ashworth. ¡°I¡¯ll need his contact information.¡±


    The sorcerer nodded.


    ¡°Did he tell you about the murder?¡± Jacky asked.


    Ashworth said, ¡°He may have tried to tell me, but I¡¯ve been busy recently¡ªI might have overlooked the message. When was Wayde murdered?¡±


    ¡°Three days ago. The body was found two days ago.¡±


    ¡°Then Aubert might not even know.¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t keeping a close watch on the professor?¡±


    ¡°Not a close one. He stopped by regularly, but all his reports said that Wayde was harmless.¡±


    ¡°A man in possession of a scroll written by history¡¯s greatest sealing magicians was murdered and his soul is missing. Perhaps Wayde was harmless, but someone around him was not.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but there were no warning signs. Wayde was a skeptic. Aubert said that he didn¡¯t seem all that interested in it.¡±


    ¡°Was any attempt made to purchase the scroll?¡±


    Ashworth glanced at Thorburn. ¡°Not to the best of my knowledge.¡±


    The father said, ¡°No, Jacky. I thought it¡¯d be safe with him.¡±


    ¡°It would have been safer with us,¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a straight-forward matter.¡±


    ¡°Straight-forward?¡±


    The priest scooted to the front of his chair. ¡°Jacky, go talk to Both. She¡¯ll be able to tell you about the scroll, and she actually met Wayde. We¡¯ve only heard of him. Standing on this side of the problem, I know it looks irresponsible of us to have left it there, but if you hear what she has to say on the matter, it¡¯ll make more sense.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do that. Do you mind if I try to take possession of the scroll?¡±


    ¡°Given the circumstances,¡± Thorburn said. ¡°I would feel much better if it was in your house.¡±


    Jacky turned to Ashworth. ¡°The contact information.¡±


    While Ashworth gave Jacky the information, Thorburn and Uhler stood up. I stepped back as they gathered their things, but when they left the table, they didn¡¯t walk past me. They stopped.


    The witch stuck out his hand. ¡°Emerra Cole?¡±


    I nodded and shook his hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m Cosmo Uhler.¡±


    ¡°The witch, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    Based on his sheepish grin, he knew it would surprise people. That should have been a clue for me to be considerate and keep my mouth shut, but after staying mostly silent through a whole meeting, I thought I might burst.


    ¡°So. Male witches.¡±


    I waited, hoping he¡¯d give me some kind of permission to continue being a twit.


    He looked resigned. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Are they called witches?¡±


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    He smiled and tried to push up those glasses that didn¡¯t need any pushing up. ¡°There are a few male witches out there that prefer the term warlock¡ªthey think it sounds cooler¡ªbut I¡¯m not sure any title with the word ¡®war¡¯ in it would suit me very well.¡±


    Innocence and humor beamed out of his face.


    Thorburn put his hand on Uhler¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And that¡¯s the way we like it, Cosmo.¡±


    How did this man become the representative for all the witches in the territory? He couldn¡¯t be less like Olivia if he tried.


    A figure walked up behind them. ¡°I think it¡¯s my turn now, gentlemen.¡±


    Cosmo and the father moved aside so Ashworth could get to me.


    As he closed in, his attractiveness increased exponentially. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should shake his hand. Physical contact might trigger his ascension to godhood.


    ¡°I¡¯m Owen Ashworth, sorcerer.¡±


    It had to get through the haze of handsome to reach me, but then my brain registered his full name.


    Owen Ashworth.


    Owen, who Dafna didn¡¯t think needed to know that I was with Jacky.


    That was thought-provoking.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to meet you,¡± I said.


    ¡°Any special powers?¡±


    ¡°Would that be normal?¡±


    ¡°Very normal around here. I thought that might be why you were here. If Father Thorburn found you, he would bring you in to meet your torrman.¡±


    I glanced at Thorburn to see if he was going to correct Ashworth, but the father only smiled. Maybe he had heard Dafna.


    I said, ¡°That¡¯d make me a witch, though, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Ashworth cocked his head.


    I went on, ¡°Sorcerers are learned magicians. So are alchemists. If it had been faith-based, then Thorburn would have been my torrman, so I¡¯d have to be with Cosmo over here.¡± I motioned with my head to indicate the man to my right.


    Owen smiled at me. ¡°Traditionally, yes, but let me assure you, if you wanted to be a sorcerer, we¡¯d take you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d take witches?¡±


    ¡°We prefer them! They¡¯re so naturally gifted.¡± He waved his hand. ¡°All that obsession with territoriality and isolation died out hundreds of years ago. Now we work together. It¡¯s much better that way.¡±


    Cosmo said, ¡°Yes, but you can take anyone with a talent. I actually need my witches.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re claiming her?¡±


    ¡°Well, no.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°First of all, because I respect people¡¯s right to choose¡ª¡±


    Ashworth grinned in triumph.


    ¡°¡ªsecondly, she¡¯s not a witch.¡±


    The grin faltered.


    I turned to Cosmo. ¡°You can tell?¡±


    Uhler¡¯s hand went to his glasses again.


    Father Thorburn answered for him. ¡°Cosmo doesn¡¯t like to brag, but that¡¯s a special talent of his. He¡¯s very good at sensing magic. He can pick the one witch out of a crowd of a thousand when he¡¯s standing on the edge.¡±


    ¡°Which is where I¡¯m usually standing,¡± Uhler said wryly.


    ¡°Thanks to him, they¡¯ve managed to bring their numbers up for the first time in a hundred years.¡±


    That¡¯s why he was their torrman. Those witches were clever.


    Jacky stood up from his chair. ¡°Emerra?¡±


    I pushed away from the wall. ¡°Ready when you are, Jacky.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    As I followed Noctis toward the door, I waved back at the three torrmen. ¡°It was nice to meet you all.¡±


    Thorburn and Uhler both waved, happy and unconcerned. The surprise was still clearing from Ashworth¡¯s face, and for a split-second, I wondered if he was going to come after me.


    But then he called out, ¡°Will we see you around?¡±


    I gave him a shrug and let the door fall shut behind me.


    We returned the key to Lane and made our way back to the parking lot. I waited until we were in the car before unloading on Jacky.


    ¡°Okay, so, is Ashworth really that good looking, or is he using magic?¡±


    Jacky put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking spot. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize Ashworth was considered good looking.¡±


    I stared at him. Maybe my eyes were magical because Jacky seemed to feel it.


    He glanced over. ¡°I can see him, but I don¡¯t perceive human attractiveness. However, you would have seen his true face, even if he was using magic.¡±


    Ah, yes. Jacky and his perfect confidence in my eyes.


    I sat back in my seat. ¡°So he¡¯s just that good looking?¡±


    ¡°I have to assume so.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cheating. Trying to wile away people to his side with that smile of his.¡±


    ¡°He is known for being friendly.¡±


    ¡°Are the torrmen elected?¡±


    ¡°Each group is responsible for choosing their own representative. If they take too long, I choose for them.¡±


    ¡°Was Ashworth elected?¡±


    ¡°He was put forward to the council of sorcerers and approved.¡±


    ¡°What about Reynell?¡±


    ¡°I chose Klara Reynell.¡±


    That startled me. I had assumed Jacky making the decision was mostly a threat used to get the groups to move faster.


    ¡°Is that¡­normal?¡±


    ¡°I usually wind up picking the representative for the alchemists. They¡¯re a diverse group that barely fit under the same banner, and few of them are interested in the politics of the Torr.¡±


    ¡°Did you pick any of the others?¡±


    ¡°I chose Father Thorburn.¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    Thorburn was so sweet, I would have bet good money he¡¯d been elected. Heck, I would have voted for him.


    ¡°Deciding a thrismage representative is a time consuming and grueling process. They have to volunteer, then be interviewed by their religious leaders, then be interviewed by the leaders of the other major religions in the area¡ªI really don¡¯t know why they bother. They were debating over five different candidates when I came in and chose for them.¡±


    ¡°Was Thorburn one of the five?¡±


    ¡°No. He seemed rather puzzled and upset that I had chosen him.¡±


    ¡°But he did it?¡±


    ¡°Mages don¡¯t often refuse my requests.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Imagine that.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been serving as a torrman for thirty-six years.¡±


    I let out a low whistle.


    ¡°Any other questions?¡±


    ¡°Oodles. Do you have lots of magic relics and artifacts at your house?¡±


    ¡°Not really. Three or four¡ªnot including any tools that Olivia makes.¡±


    ¡°But you buy them, don¡¯t you? You¡¯re going to buy the Egyptian scroll.¡±


    ¡°The Torr usually buys them, but the scroll is of special interest to me. And I said I would try to buy it. We do our best to keep tabs on the loose magic in the world¡ªthat¡¯s why someone was sent out to watch Wayde¡ªbut we don¡¯t go around seizing other people¡¯s property.¡±


    ¡°Not unless you have to?¡±


    ¡°When that happens, the owners are usually glad we¡¯ve shown up.¡±


    ¡°And who or what is a both?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°Thorburn said he got a call about Wayde¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ah. Natalie Both. Both is her last name.¡±


    ¡°Who is she?¡±


    At first Jacky didn¡¯t answer. I wondered if he was too busy driving, but then he said, ¡°Would bookkeeper be the right word? It¡¯s not exactly a bookstore, and yet¡­it is.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Natalie Both runs a store that occasionally sells books. She¡¯s also an expert on antiques. Over the years, she¡¯s acquired a reputation among both magicians and mundanes. People bring her things to evaluate. She¡¯s one of those people that don¡¯t fit easily into any category, but she¡¯s been an asset to the Torr for a long time. From what Thorburn said, I¡¯ll have to go see her. Soon.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°You should come with me.¡±


    ¡°Do you need me to look around her shop?¡±


    ¡°Not really, but I think you¡¯d find it interesting.¡±

 Chapter 10 - The Wolfman

    I woke up the next morning feeling like someone had spent the night pounding on my head with a mallet. I offered myself a heart-felt groan and followed it up with another as a thank you for my sympathy.


    I was used to it. I hadn¡¯t slept well, and the morning headaches were just another sign that my insomnia was moving in for a spell. I had joked with Ms. Elstein that at least I wouldn¡¯t get them when I was dead.


    Ha. Ha.


    So much for that idea.


    As I was putting on another all-black outfit, I noticed the whisper of an ache, high in my chest. It took me a moment to realize what it was.


    I was sad and scared.


    It was a tiny feeling. It¡¯d be easy to ignore. But it was there.


    Nights had always been the worst for me. I still had to stomp down memories of lying awake in the dark as a young girl, feeling far more sad and scared than I did now. Over the years, I had developed a whole repertoire for keeping my mental demons at bay when the sun went down, but I was in a strange new place, surrounded by excessively strange new people, and I didn¡¯t know who I was to them.


    It felt like being in a new foster home. I remembered staring up at the ceiling, feeling lonely, and wondering what I would and wouldn¡¯t be allowed to do when I couldn¡¯t sleep. That was a sensation I hadn¡¯t dealt with in years.


    Come to think of it, I always had some insomnia whenever I moved into a new place.


    Step one: painkillers.


    As one of my therapists had said, there¡¯s no point in suffering if you don¡¯t have to.


    I mentally reviewed all the people in the house as I went down the front stairs, hoping to identify one who would know where the medicine was kept, but who wasn¡¯t too scary to talk to.


    Iset was out. She probably didn¡¯t take medicine all that often.


    Ditto with Jacky.


    I wondered about Darius Vasil. Did vampires take painkillers? Or did they drink the blood of someone really healthy?


    The wolfman struck me as someone who might take painkillers. At least I had reason to believe he ate normal food. I hadn¡¯t seen it yet, but there were signs.


    Yesterday morning, when the wolfman had paused at the bottom of the back stairs, Igor had asked him if he wanted breakfast. The wolfman growled, ¡°later,¡± then disappeared out the French doors that led to the yard.


    I¡¯d been sitting close to those doors, and I cringed as his bulk passed over me.


    Yeah. Maybe not the wolfman. He might know where the medicine was, but he was, by far, the most intimidating person in the house.


    I smiled at the idea that there was someone more intimidating than death. On the other hand, Jack Noctis tried to be polite and approachable. Conrad Bauer didn¡¯t.


    Kappa was in the hallway, near the half-bathroom. He saw me, let out a squawk, and ran over.


    ¡°Mera-mera!¡±


    ¡°Hey, buddy.¡±


    ¡°Up!¡±


    I held out my arms so he could jump on me.


    Once he was settled on my hip, I said, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you know if there¡¯s any Advil or Tylenol in this house?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    I dragged that heavy little sucker all the way into the kitchen, then put him down on one of the stools at the kitchen island.


    Igor was grumbling at the main sink.


    ¡°Igor, do we have any painkillers?¡±


    The grumbling stopped. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a headache.¡±


    He nodded to the tall cupboards behind me. ¡°First cupboard, top shelf. There¡¯s a box of medicine, and there¡¯s fresh coffee by the stove.¡±


    Now here was a man who knew how to treat a headache. If I had flowers, I would have laid them at his feet.


    ¡°Thank you, Igor.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need breakfast with that.¡±


    ¡°Breakfast sounds wonderful.¡±


    Breakfast was wonderful. Igor toasted me a thick slice of whole wheat bread and poached an egg. I¡¯d never had a poached egg before, and I marveled at it while Igor rolled one of his eyes. He put an apple next to my plate.


    ¡°You should eat that,¡± he said.


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    ¡°Vitamins?¡±


    ¡°Doctor deterrent.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like doctors?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like anyone, but I haven¡¯t found the fruit that keeps everyone away.¡±


    When Kappa and I finished our breakfasts (his bowl of smelly slop looked gross, but he seemed to enjoy it), the bog-creature ordered me to play with him. His face glowed with happy expectation. It felt so welcoming, I decided I could ignore the last bit of my lingering headache.


    I checked with Jacky, but he said he had a few things to do before we could leave for Both¡¯s store. I went to find Iset, but when I asked if there was anything I needed to do to help around the house, she seemed surprised.


    ¡°Igor and Mrs. Park take care of the house. Conrad takes care of the grounds. We¡¯re all set.¡±


    ¡°There are no chores at all?¡±


    ¡°You should keep your room neat so that Mrs. Park can clean it, and when we get you some clothes, you¡¯ll be in charge of washing them, but that¡¯s about it.¡±


    ¡°So I can go play with Kappa?¡±


    ¡°I wish you would,¡± she said. ¡°That would give me time to finish some work without interruption.¡±


    ¡°Consider it done.¡±


    I figured I would make a good distraction. It wasn¡¯t much of a chore, but at least there was something I could do to feel less useless.


    Kappa said he wanted to show me his pond.


    He dragged me out the back door, across the deck, and into the yard. The area reserved for the manicured lawn and flower garden was set apart from the rest of the grounds by a stone wall with a large, ungated opening. Beyond that, the plants and trees looked untouched. I found it hard to believe it was part of the yard until I spotted three huge piles of autumn leaves gathered against the wall.


    Kappa called to me, then disappeared around the edge of the wall. I hurried to catch up. When I turned the corner, he was hopping down a walking path, toward a pond.


    The pond was bigger than I thought it would be, and, like the yard around it, it looked natural. Based on how carefully someone had laid the flat rocks around the edge, I suspected a lot of work had gone into making it look that way. There were plants all around it, including a large tree whose remaining leaves were a dull yellow.


    When we reached the edge of the pond, Kappa slipped into the water using a slinky dive that created minimal splash. It was clear he was at home there. His skin blended into the background so well, he almost disappeared. I could barely make out his black eyes; they looked like two dark, shiny bubbles, floating on the surface.


    ¡°This is your pond?¡± I asked.


    The two bubbles rose. ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡±


    ¡°Fancy fish.¡±


    I glanced down. Bright orange koi glowed against the green-black rocks.


    ¡°Very fancy,¡± I agreed.


    ¡°I found it.¡±


    ¡°The fish?¡±


    ¡°No! My pond. I found it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a lucky guy, you know that?¡±


    ¡°Want to swim?¡±


    The pond was at least six feet deep, but it looked cold, and I didn¡¯t like the idea of swimming around with a bunch of koi.


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    Kappa swam to the edge and pulled himself out. He grabbed my leg. ¡°Play.¡±


    ¡°What should we play?¡±


    That seemed to stump him. ¡°Ask Iset?¡±


    I didn¡¯t think much of that idea. How could I take pride in being a useful distraction if I couldn¡¯t hold Kappa¡¯s attention for more than five minutes?


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we play hide-and-seek?¡± I suggested.


    He gave me a blank look.


    ¡°Hide-and-seek. You know¡­¡±


    He shook his head.


    I explained the rules to him. He thought it sounded great. I thought it was a brilliant excuse for me to explore the grounds.


    Since Kappa insisted that he should be the one to hide first, I returned to the deck to start counting.


    Fifteen minutes later, I was standing at the edge of the pond and yelling about how Kappa couldn¡¯t expect me to tag him if he was hiding in six feet of cold water.


    ¡°I win!¡± He clapped his hands on the surface of the pond, splashing water up to my knees.


    The next time he hid, I only found him because he giggled. Who expects a bog-monster to be able to climb trees?


    Kappa was fast too. I had to full-body tackle him the moment I saw him, or he would escape and find another place to hide. He didn¡¯t seem to grasp the idea that the deck was home base, but he was good at hiding.


    Hide-and-seek had always been my favorite game. I didn¡¯t have many chances to play it, but every time I did, it stood out as one of my best memories. It was even more fun playing it in a wild yard where there was a new hiding spot every three feet.


    I scared Kappa from his hiding place in the bushes and blitzed along the stone wall, trying not to lose sight of him. When I turned into the opening, there was a loud shout that was part snarl.


    ¡°Watch it!¡±


    Too late. Still going top speed, I smacked into the wolfman and bounced off him.


    His warning might not have been voiced early enough for me to stop, but there was plenty of time for it to launch a gallon of adrenaline into my bloodstream.


    With trembling hands, I pushed myself off the ground.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled. ¡°My fault.¡±


    His eyes followed me as I got to my feet, then he raised his head and looked around the yard.


    ¡°You¡¯re out here with Kappa?¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I had meant to say more than that, but my mouth, usually so adept at spewing out all kinds of stupid things, failed me.


    He eyed me again. Could he see me shaking? I curled my hands into fists.


    ¡°Stay out of the leaves,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yeah. Of course.¡±


    He turned toward the house.


    Iset¡¯s statement came back to me. I managed to step forward by means of a jerky lunge.


    ¡°You¡¯re the groundskeeper¡±¡ªhe looked back at me, and my voice scampered off to hide, leaving behind one squeaky word¡ª¡°right?¡±


    Before he got the chance to answer, Kappa yelled ¡°tah dah!¡± and burst out from the nearest pile of leaves, scattering them everywhere. When he caught sight of the wolfman, he tried to shrink back into the pile with a much quieter ulp noise. There weren¡¯t enough leaves left to hide him.


    I covered my eyes with my hand. ¡°Oh, geez. I¡¯m so sorry. If you tell me where the rake is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± Conrad said. ¡°I¡¯ll clean it up later.¡±


    He turned and went back to the house.


    When the door closed behind him, all the tension whoofed out of my body. I felt like a deflated whoopee cushion.


    ¡°Kappa!¡±


    The bog-creature threw a few leaves over his head.


    I marched over and pulled him from his cover. ¡°Found you! Now you have to help me gather up these leaves.¡±


    ¡°Make a hiding place?¡±


    ¡°No, we¡¯re making a pile of leaves.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°So the wolfman doesn¡¯t have to.¡±


    We worked on our hands and knees in silence, pushing and shoving the leaves back toward the wall.


    Wolfman.


    I knew his name was Conrad, but I couldn¡¯t seem to think of him as anything but the wolfman.


    ¡°Kappa, you¡¯ve lived with Conrad for a while, right?¡±


    ¡°Wolf. Wolfy-wolfman,¡± Kappa said.


    At least I wasn¡¯t the only person who struggled to use his name.


    ¡°What¡¯s he like?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Big! Big wolfman. Big teeth. Sharp.¡± He gnashed his own teeth to demonstrate.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said as I watched his multitude of fangs grind together. ¡°You¡¯re chompers look pretty sharp to me too.¡±


    ¡°For fish.¡±


    ¡°Fish?¡±


    ¡°And frogs. Snails.¡± He smiled his toothiest smile. ¡°My teeth are for food.¡±


    ¡°So are his.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not my food. I¡¯m his food.¡± Kappa shook his head. ¡°Scary.¡±


    I had my doubts. Kappa didn¡¯t look much more appetizing than your average frog, and while bog-monsters might like them, I wasn¡¯t sure a wolfman would. On the other hand, I could sympathize with his concern.


    Call it ego, but I thought I looked tastier than he did.


    ¡°I hear ya, buddy.¡±


    We went back to shoving the leaves toward the pile.


    Then I had a thought.


    ¡°Kappa, you don¡¯t eat the koi, do you?¡±


    ¡°Fancy fish. Not food fish. Don¡¯t eat the fancy fish.¡±


    ¡°Just checking.¡±

 Chapter 11 - Boths Bookstore

    That afternoon, Jacky took me into town to see the bookstore. Considering the fact he¡¯d told me I would find it interesting, I was a little disappointed by the exterior.


    The building was a one-story box made of dull red bricks. The sign over the window was charcoal black with off-white lettering that read Antiques and Books. When the sign was new, it might have looked bold and elegant, but time and weather had taken a toll.


    ¡°Does the store have a name?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t need a name,¡± Jacky said. ¡°People who know it refer to it as Both¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Both¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°As in, ¡®I¡¯m going down to Both¡¯s place.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    When Jacky opened the door, the brass bell on the lintel chimed.


    I had only taken two steps inside before my stride faltered. It¡¯s hard to walk straight when you¡¯re trying to look everywhere.


    The place was smaller than I would have guessed from looking at the outside. The walls were a creamy white, but you could barely see any of them because they were covered in art. There were rows of ornately carved, ancient bookshelves that were so dark they were nearly black. To offset the gloom from all the dark shelves, modern chandeliers hung from the ceiling¡ªmodern, as in, clean lines, stark shapes, all silver and white. The books were another riot of contradiction. There were brand new ones sitting side by side with copies so old, you could almost imagine the cast iron presses creaking over the pages. The art was classical. The statues on top of the bookshelves were modern. The armchairs were old, but the music playing in the background had a quiet techno beat that marked it as new. I wasn¡¯t sure if the mash-up worked, but I got the feeling that the person who had created the place didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°You were right, Jacky,¡± I said. ¡°This is pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Oh. This isn¡¯t what I was talking about.¡±


    A voice said, ¡°Well, well! Big Jacky.¡±


    The store was enough of a hint, I wasn¡¯t all that surprised when I turned around.


    The woman¡¯s hair was mostly white with a few steel gray streaks, but the cut was stylish. She didn¡¯t try to hide any of her wrinkles, but her clothes wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place on someone my age¡ªif that someone had a lot of money and read Vogue. She was age, wrapped up in a modern look, and she stood with one hand on her hip and smiled at death.


    ¡°How are you doing?¡± she asked.


    ¡°As good as ever,¡± Jacky said. ¡°How are you doing, Ms. Both?¡±


    ¡°Better than ever. My shop was featured. For a while, I wondered if I¡¯d have to buy a stick to chase people out when it got too crowded.¡±


    ¡°Is there anyone here now?¡±


    ¡°One or two browsers. No one important. Do we need to talk privately?¡±


    ¡°It might avoid awkward questions.¡±


    ¡°As if I ever tried to avoid awkward questions.¡±


    ¡°But if you need to look after your customers¡ª¡±


    ¡°Customers! What a bother. Let them browse. Let them leave if they have a mind to.¡±


    Both motioned for us to follow her. We wound through the shelves until we arrived at a door marked ¡°employees only.¡± She opened it wide and gestured for us to go through.


    When I passed the threshold, I stopped to stare.


    Behind the door was a whole different store! No wonder the front had looked so small. But this wasn¡¯t the neat shelves and tasteful decorations we had left behind.


    The dark shelves were still there, but there were hardly any books. They appeared around everything else, like dandelions popping up in sidewalk cracks. The rest of the space was taken up by knickknacks and undefinable objects of every possible size. There was one that was no bigger that a thimble, one was the size of a door, and no two items were the same. Some of them whirred or ticked with tiny movements that made the room feel alive.


    The air in my lungs felt so light, I had to laugh. I skipped into the room and bounced from shelf to shelf to inspect the collection.


    On one shelf was a gnarled stick, about a foot long, resting on a stand. Above it was a large silver cross that had been mangled until you could see the still ticking clockwork hidden in its center. I couldn¡¯t begin to guess what the clockwork was powering.


    After a few minutes of marveling, I stopped in front of a copper and ivory gyroscope. It was gently spinning, all on its own.


    As my hand drifted toward it, Ms. Both said, ¡°You might not want to do that.¡±


    Her voice had been so mellow, I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a suggestion or a warning.


    ¡°Um, why?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t figured out how it works yet, and it¡¯s turned three people to stone.¡±


    I jammed my hand in my pocket.


    She smiled. ¡°I¡¯m Natalie Both.¡±


    I extracted my hand long enough to shake. ¡°Emerra Cole.¡±


    ¡°Emerra Cole, I like your hairstyle.¡±


    Usually, I made some kind of quip whenever someone mentioned my lack of hair, but this time, I blushed. When a woman that chic gives her seal of approval, all you can do is accept it.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°This store¡ªthis place is awesome!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it? But, tell me¡±¡ªshe jerked her head toward Jacky, who¡¯d been quietly standing off to the side¡ª¡°do you know who this man is?¡±


    That was no simple question. She knew it, and I knew it.


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°And there you go.¡± She leaned toward me and whispered, ¡°It helps to know where people stand in this world.¡± She stood up straight and said to Jacky, ¡°Are you here for yourself or Iset?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here on behalf of the Torr.¡±


    ¡°The Torr? I have a hard time picturing you as a messenger boy.¡±


    ¡°Thorburn insisted I should see you.¡±


    Both smiled again. ¡°This sounds like a story. Should I get some cocoa for us, or just sit cross-legged on the carpet, gazing up at you while you speak?¡±


    ¡°I believe a chair might be more comfortable for a woman your age.¡±


    Both pointed at him with a manicured nail. ¡°For that, you get no cocoa.¡± She turned to me. ¡°What about you, Emerra? Would you like a drink? I have coffee as well as cocoa, but I¡¯m afraid my tea selection is rather sad at the moment.¡±


    I used to say that I¡¯d be dead before I failed to jump at an offer for free sugar, but it turned out that death didn¡¯t change my priorities much.


    ¡°Cocoa, please!¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯ll be a minute. Jacky, go find a nice comfortable chair. I can¡¯t have a man your age standing around for too long.¡±


    She was already walking away, so Jacky¡¯s ¡°But¡­¡± didn¡¯t reach her.


    I took his arm and put my hand on his back. It didn¡¯t feel like I was grabbing onto a skeleton. It felt like a solid body.


    Whatever.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s sit down.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get old,¡± he insisted.


    ¡°Oh, yes, you do.¡±


    I guided him over to a set of chairs and had him sit. I sat down in the chair next to him. A minute later, Both returned with a cocoa for me and a coffee for herself.


    As Natalie settled herself into one of the chairs, she said, ¡°I think we¡¯re about ready for story time. So what¡¯s this about?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have a story for you.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to ask you some questions.¡±


    She sipped her coffee. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember meeting a man by the name of Trevon Wayde.¡±


    ¡°Wayde? Yes, I remember him.¡±


    ¡°When did you meet him?¡±


    ¡°About two, maybe three months ago.¡± She paused, then said, ¡°I saw a headline a few days ago. Was he the professor that was murdered?¡±


    ¡°He was.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s sad.¡±


    ¡°He came to you?¡±


    ¡°He did.¡± Natalie crossed her legs. ¡°He brought in a papyrus scroll. He wanted my opinion on it.¡±


    ¡°He was an anthropologist. Did he need your opinion?¡±


    ¡°Egyptian culture wasn¡¯t his specialty.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t he go to one of his colleagues?¡±


    Both ran a finger around the outside rim of her mug. ¡°You understand, I can¡¯t say for certain, but I got the idea that he wasn¡¯t supposed to have it.¡±


    Jacky tilted his head.


    Both explained, ¡°Anthropologists are bound by a code of ethics when it comes to handling artifacts. You¡¯re supposed to have the proper paperwork if you acquire a real artifact, and you aren¡¯t supposed to buy or sell any fake ones.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°They don¡¯t want to encourage people to steal or forge artifacts. If Wayde suspected there might be a problem with the scroll, he¡¯d probably be more comfortable bringing it to me than to someone he works with.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t bound by the same ethics?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t buying or selling anything. I was only appraising it.¡±


    ¡°What about Wayde? Did he seem unethical?¡±


    ¡°Well, no,¡± she said. ¡°He seemed nice.¡±


    ¡°Nice?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no other word for it. He was kind, cheerful, and friendly. He seemed open as well¡ªexcept when I asked him about where he¡¯d gotten the scroll¡ªbut he was very polite when he dodged my question.¡±


    ¡°Did you like him?¡± I asked.


    Natalie¡¯s eyes snapped to me, as if she¡¯d forgotten I was there. Then they softened. ¡°I did. He was a likable man.¡±


    Jacky said, ¡°What can you tell me about the scroll?¡±


    ¡°The first thing I can tell you is that it was fake¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fake?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Mind you, it was an excellent forgery¡ªright down to the scratches of the reed¡ªbut there was no way it could be real.¡± She leaned back in her chair. ¡°It was written in Late Egyptian hieratic script, which would have come from sometime around 1000 to 750 BCE, but the papyrus was in far too good of a condition to be that old.¡±


    ¡°If it was fake,¡± I said, ¡°why did you call it into the Torr?¡±


    ¡°It had the mage-priest¡¯s title line.¡±


    I glanced at Jacky, but all he did was tap the armrest with his finger bone. Since it didn¡¯t look like he was going to ask any questions, I had to do it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but what¡¯s a title line?¡±


    ¡°In ancient Egypt there was a special class of priests who were also magicians. Because of their religious affiliation and their special status, a lot of what they did was considered sacred and, therefore, not to be generally known. Whenever they wrote a scroll, they put a line at the beginning, warning the reader that the scroll contained sacred knowledge, and if they weren¡¯t meant to be reading it, it wouldn¡¯t go well for them. I don¡¯t know how well it worked as a deterrent, but it gave us an easy way to identify any scrolls created by them.¡±


    ¡°The scroll was fake, but the information was real?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t read Egyptian script, so I can¡¯t speak for all of it, but I¡¯ve trained myself to recognize that line, and it was accurate.¡±


    ¡°How can there be real writing on a fake scroll?¡±


    ¡°The best forgers tend to work from real objects. It makes their work more convincing. It wouldn¡¯t be unheard of for someone to copy the writing from a real scroll onto a fake one.¡±


    My head buzzed with the idea. I couldn¡¯t imagine a world where you had to be on the lookout for tricks like that. Clearly, I did not have the soul of a forger.


    ¡°Was the scroll magical?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°Even the scrolls that are real aren¡¯t normally magical¡ªbut a fake one?¡± Both shook her head.


    ¡°What did you tell Wayde about the scroll?¡±


    ¡°What could I tell him? I said it was fake and gave it back to him.¡±


    ¡°How did he respond?¡±


    ¡°He took it in stride. He said something like, ¡®Oh well, that¡¯ll be another one for my collection.¡¯ I asked him if he made a habit of collecting fake scrolls, and he said that he collected all kinds of things.¡±


    I thought about the myriad of artifacts all over his study. ¡°All kinds of things¡± was accurate, but it felt like an understatement.


    Big Jacky leaned back in his chair and tapped on the armrest some more. I used the break to drink my cocoa.


    Jacky said, ¡°What happened after that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. He left, and I called Father Thorburn.¡±


    ¡°What did you tell him?¡±


    ¡°I told him that there was a new religious article in his territory without a suitable handler.¡±


    ¡°Did he sound concerned?¡±


    ¡°I hope not. It wasn¡¯t all that concerning. I only called him because I was supposed to. Rules don¡¯t always pay attention to the reality of risk.¡±


    ¡°How do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I agreed to inform the Torr about any potential magical artifact that came my way. I¡¯ve had to call in nearly dead charms that wouldn¡¯t protect the wearer from a paper cut and an alchemical machine whose great contribution to the world was to fall apart when it gathered too much magic. Honestly, it¡¯s a wonder the Torr still take my calls.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t think the scroll was dangerous?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Natalie said, ¡°and I told Thorburn that.¡±


    ¡°But if the information it had was real, would it matter if it was a copy?¡±


    Natalie Both gazed at me for a long time before saying, ¡°Emerra, how much do you know about religious magic?¡±


    I really needed a shirt with COMPLETELY IGNORANT printed across the chest in neon green. Then maybe people would stop making me say it.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Religious magic is difficult, even if the magician has additional talents. It always requires special training, and it often requires powerful faith or a specific relic. The Egyptian priests, especially, relied on props, many of which were handed down from priest to priest. Even if that scroll described a ritual, step by step, there probably isn¡¯t a magician alive that could do anything with it. Nevermind that Wayde was a mundane.¡±


    ¡°Do you know he was a mundane?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°Is there any reason to think he wasn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Not at the moment.¡±


    Both set her mug on the small table beside her. ¡°Jacky, what is this really about? You don¡¯t think the scroll had anything to do with his murder, do you?¡±


    ¡°His soul is missing.¡±


    For a second, Natalie only sat there, motionless.


    ¡°Missing?¡± she breathed. ¡°You mean it¡¯s gone?¡±


    Jacky nodded.


    Both scowled at the floor, then raised her head. ¡°No. That¡¯s not possible. I stand by what I said. That scroll should have been harmless. No one should have been able to use it!¡±


    ¡°Reality doesn¡¯t always pay attention to the probability of risk.¡±


    Natalie cast an annoyed look in Jacky¡¯s direction. He didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    ¡°Is there anything else you can tell us?¡± Noctis asked.


    ¡°No. I wish I could, but I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s where my role ended. If you need to know anything more, you¡¯ll have to talk to Thorburn.¡±


    Jacky pushed himself to his feet. ¡°Thank you for your time.¡±


    I chugged the rest of my cocoa, put down the mug, and stood up.


    It was a wrench to leave behind all those crazy baubles, but I followed Jacky to the front of the shop. Both was right behind us.


    As we walked toward the door, Jacky said over his shoulder, ¡°Ms. Both, did you take any pictures of the scroll?¡±


    ¡°No, but I can email you an exact description of it if that would be helpful.¡±


    ¡°It would. Will you call me if you hear anything? Or if anything else comes to mind?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you,¡± she assured him. ¡°I¡¯ll call every torrman. I¡¯ll write a banner and pin it to the sky.¡±


    ¡°The banner shouldn¡¯t be necessary, but I appreciate the thought.¡±


    When Noctis reached for the door handle, Both let out a loud ¡°oh!¡± and shook a finger over her head.


    ¡°One moment,¡± she said. ¡°You were here for Iset, and you didn¡¯t know it.¡±


    ¡°I was?¡±


    ¡°I have a book for her. I was going to ship it, but why waste the time?¡±


    She left us standing there and headed over to the front desk. A minute later she returned, book in hand. It was old, and the cover was cracked along the entire spine.


    She held it out to Jacky, but he didn¡¯t take it. He had other things on his mind.


    ¡°Ms. Both, how much would the scroll be worth?¡±


    Natalie pulled her arm back until she could rest the book on her chest. ¡°To Wayde, it¡¯d be worthless. No, it¡¯d be worse than worthless. He¡¯s not supposed to have it, and if he ever tried to sell it, he could get into a lot of trouble.¡±


    ¡°Worse than worthless,¡± Jacky murmured. He nodded to her. ¡°Thank you again.¡±


    He opened the door and left. He left the shop. He left me. And he left Natalie Both standing there, holding out the book.


    I sighed. ¡°Sorry about that. If you want, I can take it.¡±


    ¡°You know Iset?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m kind of staying at the mansion. For now.¡±


    She handed me the book. ¡°I think I¡¯d rather trust it to you. Jacky might get distracted and leave it somewhere.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Jacky¡¯s distracted. I think he¡¯s a little too focused.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. Jacky¡¯s always been devoted to his job. I can understand why something like this would upset him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s upset?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. You¡¯ll be able to tell better once you get to know him.¡± Both shook her head. ¡°What a mess. I¡¯m glad Jacky¡¯s stepping in.¡±


    As a teenager, I had worked hard to create the perfect smart-aleck tone. I hauled it out and dusted it off. ¡°Any idea what he¡¯s stepping into?¡±


    When she glanced up and saw my smirk, she smiled.


    ¡°Oh, I think we both know it¡¯s going to be brown and smelly.¡±


    I saluted her with the book. ¡°It was nice to meet you, Ms. Both. You have a wonderful shop.¡±


    ¡°Come back any time. And call me Natalie!¡±


    I waved, then ran out of the store to catch up to Jacky.


    He was halfway down the street and still hadn¡¯t noticed I wasn¡¯t there. Thank god we¡¯d parked a few blocks away. I needed to catch him before he got back to the car, or I might have to walk all the way back to the mansion.


    Which would be tricky since the drive was an hour and a half long.


    And I didn¡¯t know the address.


    ¡°Jacky!¡±


    Noctis stopped and turned. ¡°Emerra?¡±


    When I caught up, we walked on together.


    ¡°So what happens now?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Now we go home. We have to see what we can do about obtaining that scroll.¡±


    ¡°You want a scroll that¡¯s worse than worthless?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure it is worthless. There¡¯s a possibility that Wayde paid dearly for having it.¡±

 Chapter 12 - In the Library

    When we got home, Jacky excused himself to go to his study. He said he had to make a few phone calls. Before he could escape, I asked him where Iset might be.


    ¡°The library. She¡¯s usually in the library.¡±


    Of course she was. Who could blame her? The library was magical in a way that had nothing to do with magic.


    I remembered the first time I saw it¡ªthe sense of awe that had stolen over me, filling me up until I thought I might pop.


    The room itself was huge. The walls were covered with elegant wooden panels that matched the numerous shelves. The floor-to-ceiling windows were surrounded by velvet drapes, and sheer white curtains covered the windows to protect the books from the sun.


    And the books. There were thousands of them! They made the room feel heavier than it should have, like it was the base of a mountain that was holding up the sky.


    For the final touch, there was a small spiral staircase tucked in a corner of the room. Iset told me it led up to her private study.


    And, believe me, the word ¡°private¡± was the only thing that stopped me from charging up those stairs to see where they went.


    When I passed through one of the two large archways that opened into the library, I noticed that Iset wasn¡¯t alone. She was sitting behind a desk with a laptop in front of her. Count Vasil was leaning back on the same desk, talking to her.


    I didn¡¯t know if it was a private conversation, so I stumbled to a halt.


    They both looked up at me.


    ¡°Sorry. I can¡­just¡ª¡± I tried to hold up the book and point over my shoulder at the same time and managed to hit my face with the corner of the book. ¡°Ouch! Uh, I can come back later.¡±


    Darius pressed his lips together, probably to keep himself from laughing, then said, ¡°You can come in, Emerra.¡±


    I took a few steps forward. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to interrupt you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Iset assured me. ¡°We were only chatting. You have a book?¡±


    I looked down at the thing in my hands¡ªyou know, in case I had forgotten what object I had just smacked myself with. ¡°Yeah.¡± I held it out. ¡°Natalie Both wanted me to give this to you.¡±


    ¡°Ah! Thank you.¡± The mummy took the book and put it down on her desk. ¡°How did you like the store?¡±


    ¡°It was awesome!¡± I blurted out in a voice that was much too loud for a library. ¡°I could spend hours there, poking around¡ªif I don¡¯t turn myself to stone in the first five minutes. How does she find all those things?¡±


    ¡°Most of them seem to find her,¡± Vasil said.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been there?¡±


    ¡°Many times, and I¡¯ll probably go there many more.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡± I asked Iset.


    Over the years, I had become a connoisseur of awkward silences: my own, and other people¡¯s. Most people aren¡¯t mentally prepared to find out you have a terminal illness, and they don¡¯t know how to react when they do. Those silences smolder. My own awkward silences, however, burn like a thousand suns with agonizing embarrassment, which is why I¡¯ll say almost anything to make them go away, even something twice as stupid as the original comment.


    This silence was so gentle, it took me a while to realize it was, in fact, awkward.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t get out much,¡± Iset said.


    I was so surprised by the humble statement, my brain derailed, so I didn¡¯t get the chance to ask why not. And thank god for that, because less than one second later, I realized the obvious answer.


    I groped for a nearby chair, dragged it over, and sat down next to the desk. ¡°Do you get out at all?¡±


    ¡°Very rarely.¡±


    ¡°But you were there! You were at my graveside.¡±


    ¡°That was a special circumstance. Jacky wanted Conrad¡¯s help, and since they were already hiding the group, there was no harm in me coming along.¡±


    The wolfman had helped?


    Come to think of it, how did they dig me up?


    I shook my head in an effort to bring it back around to the original topic, but before I could ask my next question, Darius voiced one of his own.


    ¡°Did you learn anything from Both?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh. Yeah.¡±


    He raised his eyebrow.


    All I gave him was a confused look, so he was forced to elaborate: ¡°Would you be kind enough to tell me about it?¡±


    ¡°Do you work with Jacky on stuff like this?¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°We all do,¡± Iset said. ¡°Everyone except Igor.¡±


    ¡°And Kappa?¡±


    ¡°No, we¡¯ve used Kappa before.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve used Kappa, but not Igor?¡±


    ¡°Igor prefers to stay in the kitchen.¡±


    ¡°You talk like you do this kind of thing all the time.¡±


    ¡°We do,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Geez! How many souls has Jacky lost?¡±


    Iset¡¯s shoulders shook with a silent laugh. The count¡¯s smile showed a glimpse of white teeth before he managed to wrangle it back to its normal closed-lip elegance.


    ¡°It¡¯s not normally missing souls,¡± he explained. ¡°Whenever a Torr needs Jacky, or if there¡¯s a supernatural problem that Jacky won¡¯t touch, we¡¯re often asked to help.¡±


    I looked at Iset. ¡°Does that make you the brains of the operation?¡±


    ¡°No¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Vasil said over her. When I looked at him, he nodded to me. ¡°Yes, it does. Don¡¯t let her tell you otherwise.¡±


    ¡°Darius,¡± the mummy chided.


    ¡°So, tell us, Miss Cole, what news do you have about the case?¡±


    I told them about the fake scroll with the real writing. Darius frowned when he heard that it was worse than worthless, and the frown only deepened when I told him that Jacky still wanted to get his hands on it.


    When I finished, there was silence.


    ¡°Is that all?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said.


    He slowly shook his head.


    ¡°Is it bad?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not worse than normal.¡± Vasil uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the desk. ¡°I¡¯m going to talk to Jacky.¡±


    As the count straightened his vest, I said, ¡°I think he wanted to call someone.¡± As Darius walked toward the archway, I called out, ¡°He might still be on the phone!¡±


    ¡°He is,¡± Darius said. His steps didn¡¯t slow at all.


    He disappeared around the corner.


    I turned to Iset. ¡°How does he know Jacky¡¯s still on his phone?¡±


    The mummy had been sitting back in her chair, her bandaged head facing away, but when I asked my question, her attention returned to me.


    ¡°Hm? Oh. Is Jacky in his study?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Then Darius can hear him.¡±


    I blinked.


    I blinked several more times, but it didn¡¯t help.


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything,¡± I said.


    ¡°I did warn you, his hearing is exceptional.¡±


    I thought about that for a few seconds. ¡°Like, vampire exceptional?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    I sighed and rubbed my temples.


    Iset said, ¡°Emerra, how are you settling in?¡±


    I moaned.


    ¡°You look tired.¡±


    My hands dropped back to my lap. ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep well last night. And everything¡¯s so¡ª¡± I realized I was talking to part of that ¡°everything¡± and shut my mouth.


    ¡°Everything¡¯s so strange?¡± Iset prompted.


    ¡°I feel like I¡¯m out of sync with the world. Even when I think I know what¡¯s going on, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°That sounds exhausting.¡±


    I gazed at the mummy. Her voice was so kind.


    ¡°Do you get used to all the weirdness?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, yes. And I think you¡¯ll be surprised how little time it takes.¡±


    ¡°But until then, I¡¯m stuck bumbling around like an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Like a child. Like someone who¡¯s exposed to a new situation and has to learn everything again. Don¡¯t worry, Emerra. We understand¡ªat least, most of us understand. Kappa doesn¡¯t, but I wouldn¡¯t worry too much about what he thinks of you.


    ¡°He thinks I¡¯m a wuss because I won¡¯t swim in the koi pond.¡±


    ¡°He feels the same way about me.¡±


    I smiled.


    ¡°Is there a reason you couldn¡¯t sleep last night?¡± Iset asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s just insomnia. I get it sometimes. It should go away in a week or two.¡±


    ¡°A week? Is there anything you need to make it easier?¡±


    I was about to tell her no, but then I remembered there was one thing that might help, and all I had to do was ask. So why was I hesitating? It wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d bite me. She couldn¡¯t bite me; her mouth was covered with bandages.


    ¡°Could I watch some TV when I can¡¯t sleep?¡± I rushed to add, ¡°I¡¯ll keep the volume low. I don¡¯t mind subtitles.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. I can¡¯t imagine that anyone would object, and the volume will be less of an issue than you think. Darius is awake at night.¡±


    Oh. Right. Yet another thing I would have to get used to.


    She went on, ¡°The only person who might have an opinion about it is Conrad.¡±


    ¡°Conrad?¡±


    ¡°Most of us don¡¯t use the TV room, but Conrad does. I¡¯m certain he won¡¯t mind you being there, but you¡¯ll have to figure out your own compromise when it comes to what you watch.¡±


    ¡°Is he nocturnal?¡±


    ¡°No, but he does stay up late sometimes.¡±


    I didn¡¯t mean to frown, but I realized I was frowning when Iset said, ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I¡­uh¡­¡± I jerked my shoulders in a forced shrug. ¡°It¡¯s¡­Conrad. He might mind.¡±


    ¡°What makes you think that?¡±


    My voice sounded casual¡ªI made sure of that¡ªbut a frosty twinge shot through my stomach as I said, ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem happy to have me around.¡±


    Neither did Olivia. Neither did Igor, but at least Igor¡¯s grumpiness felt more generalized.


    ¡°Emerra.¡±


    I looked up.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t take it personally. Conrad¡¯s very shy.¡±


    My metaphorical life¡¯s record jerked to a halt with a loud zzzzzrt noise. Once I got my brain out of neutral, it presented me with the following thought:


    Shy?


    The dude was a monster. If he ever got those fangs around my throat, he could tear it out by smirking! Someone that hulking had no business being shy. That honor was reserved for his prey.


    I eyed the mummy. ¡°Iset, do you think Igor¡¯s a sweetheart?¡±


    ¡°Igor has many good qualities, but, no, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s what most people would call a sweetheart.¡±


    ¡°Just checking.¡±


    So she wasn¡¯t completely out of touch. Maybe Conrad¡¯s silences and attempts to avoid me were because he felt at least as awkward as I did.


    I tried to wrap my mind around that potential new perspective, but I couldn¡¯t get past the glint of his teeth.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯ll take the time to get to know him,¡± Iset said. ¡°He¡¯s a good person.¡±


    ¡°What does he eat?¡±


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t been eating with you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    The mummy shook her head. ¡°That boy.¡± When she raised her head, she said, ¡°Conrad eats just about anything he can get his hands on¡ªwhich makes sense, given his size and metabolism.¡±


    ¡°Does that include bog-creatures?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She sounded amused. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t include humans either.¡±


    I let out my breath, and I didn¡¯t bother hiding it. ¡°Whew. That¡­uh¡­thank you. I¡¯m sure Kappa will find that reassuring.¡± I looked at her sideways. ¡°Should I ask about the mummy¡¯s curse now?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t curse very often. Not unless I drop something.¡±


    I grinned.


    Iset said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. These are reasonable questions. As I said, all of this is new to you. Of course you¡¯d want to know about it. Especially any relevant information¡ª¡±


    ¡°Like is someone going to eat me?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the first question on every creatures¡¯ mind.¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond, but Olivia¡¯s voice came from over by the archway.


    ¡°Iset.¡±


    We turned. The witch was standing there with a stack of books in her arms and several pens clutched in her hand.


    ¡°Olivia!¡± The mummy stood up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I got distracted. Where would you like to work today?¡±


    ¡°The private study.¡± The witch glanced at me, then returned her eyes to Iset. ¡°We¡¯re less likely to be disturbed.¡±


    You had to admire Olivia¡¯s ruthless grace and efficiency. I had been about to ask if I could tag along¡ªwatching them do witchcraft sounded interesting, and it wasn¡¯t like I had anything else to do¡ªbut her preemptive statement had shut me down before I could say anything.


    It stung, but I couldn¡¯t blame her for wanting to exclude me. I had always been a distraction in class, and Olivia struck me as the studious type.


    As she passed the desk, I said, with maybe a touch of irony, ¡°Have fun.¡±


    She ignored me.


    Iset and Olivia¡¯s voices faded as they walked over to the spiral staircase. The sound was cut off completely when they shut the door behind them. I was left alone, sitting at an empty desk, in a very large and quiet library.

 Chapter 13 - Interviewing Aubert

    After another sleepless night, I found myself riding shotgun next to the vampire. I don¡¯t know what Darius had said to Jacky, but Noctis had him take over the case. I thought that would be the end of my involvement, but the vampire approached me at breakfast and asked if I would come with him to talk to Aubert.


    We were driving into the city in the huge SUV that Vasil favored. Since our little town was at least a hundred miles from everything important, it was going to be another long drive. I spent the time eyeing my driver, trying to figure out what to make of him.


    He didn¡¯t turn to dust in the sunlight. I knew that because the sun was already up when we walked out to the garage. On the other hand, he was wearing the darkest set of Ray-Ban sunglasses I¡¯d ever seen. He was also wearing yet another expensive-looking suit. I couldn¡¯t tell if that was the modern version of an opera cape or if he liked to look professional.


    It seemed unfair to me. The man was a vampire¡ªhe ought to look like a vampire. There should be some kind of warning.


    I tried, once again, to catch a glimpse of his teeth, to see if he had any obvious fangs. It never worked. He had perfected a demure, closed-lip smile that kept his teeth hidden.


    ¡°Miss Cole, what is it?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°You keep staring at me. It¡¯s making me nervous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m making you nervous?¡±


    ¡°A woman, rumored to be a seer, is boring a hole through me with her all-black eyes while I¡¯m driving. That would be enough to make anyone nervous. What are you thinking?¡±


    ¡°At the moment I¡¯m thinking about the fact I can intimidate a vampire. You¡¯ve got to admit, that¡¯s pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Note to self,¡± he said with one of those demure smiles, ¡°do not show this one any weakness.¡±


    ¡°Nah. I was only trying to figure out what I could, you know, ask you. Without annoying you. It¡¯s probably not wise to annoy a vampire. I don¡¯t even know if I have blood¡ª¡±


    ¡°You have blood. If you cut yourself, it¡¯ll be red.¡±


    There was a thoughtful pause.


    ¡°Should I ask how you know that?¡±


    He gave me a look.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it,¡± I said.


    ¡°Wise.¡±


    ¡°So, do you drink blood?¡±


    ¡°Not your blood. Not Conrad¡¯s or Olivia¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°What about Kappa?¡±


    I saw a flicker of disgust cross his face.


    ¡°Not his either.¡±


    ¡°You know, I had a feeling people wouldn¡¯t think he was tasty.¡±


    ¡°But I do have to drink blood to survive. Jacky makes sure I have enough. It comes in anonymous bags, so I¡¯ve never had to bite someone.¡±


    ¡°Wow. So you drink, like, the world¡¯s creepiest Capri Sun.¡±


    ¡°¡­Yes, but I¡¯ll thank you not to put it like that.¡±


    Maybe he had some kind of diabolical vampire charm that he used to lull people into trusting him. If he did, it was working. I felt comfortable enough to ask him a few more questions.


    ¡°Do you have fangs?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Can I see them?¡±


    ¡°I prefer not to show them when I can avoid it.¡±


    That explained all his closed-lip smiling.


    ¡°What do they look like?¡±


    ¡°Most of the time, they¡¯re subtle enough people could mistake them for oversized canines.¡±


    ¡°And the rest of the time?¡±


    ¡°People can¡¯t mistake them.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Can you eat normal food?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s a lot like trying to live off junk food. It doesn¡¯t do me any good, and too much makes me ill.¡±


    ¡°Superpowers?¡±


    ¡°What is this? Twenty questions?


    ¡°Ha! Yeah. Sure. This is my first time talking to a real vampire, and you think I¡¯m only going to have twenty questions?¡±


    The count answered most of my questions. When he didn¡¯t want to answer, he dodged them with enough grace, I couldn¡¯t get upset about it. He wouldn¡¯t tell me how to kill him, but he did admit that the sun bothered him¡ªmostly because of his sensitive eyes. All his senses were keen, almost to the point of pain, which made him the world¡¯s pickiest eater since both the smell and taste could upset him.


    ¡°So¡­the garlic thing?¡±


    ¡°The smell. Ugh.¡±


    He admitted he had abilities that I would ¡°probably call superpowers,¡± but the only one he was willing to be specific about was his strength.


    ¡°How strong are you?¡±


    ¡°During the witching hour, I¡¯m slightly stronger than Conrad.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the witching hour?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the term I use for the deepest hour of the night, when the sun is the furthest away.¡±


    ¡°Your powers come and go?¡±


    ¡°Some of them. My senses stay the same, no matter what, and even in the daytime I¡¯m stronger than a human¡ªbut not by much. If you want to see me with all my powers, you have to wait until the sun sets.¡±


    He laughed when I asked if he could turn into a bat.


    When he was done laughing, I said, ¡°Now, you dress very nice.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°And you seem like a man who¡¯s careful about his appearance.¡±


    ¡°This is about the mirrors, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Mirrors used to be backed with silver. They aren¡¯t anymore.¡±


    That seemed to be all the answer he expected me to need. Foolish vampire.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, ¡°that means nothing to me.¡±


    ¡°Silver has interesting magical properties. The alchemists call it the ¡®pure¡¯ metal because it can hold power, especially blessings, better than any other metal.¡±


    ¡°Is it dangerous to you?¡±


    ¡°Would you please stop trying to figure out how to kill me? It¡¯s not polite.¡±


    ¡°Just asking.¡±


    ¡°Silver was often blessed in the superstitious days of yore, so many old mirrors wouldn¡¯t show a vampire¡¯s reflection.¡±


    I was catching on. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t about the reflection or the mirror.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It was about the blessing. Same thing for holy water, crosses, and cemeteries.¡± He turned into a tight parking lot and stopped the car. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Already?¡±


    We had talked for almost the entire drive.


    Darius pulled his keys from the ignition. ¡°Miss Cole¡ª¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, you want me to keep my mouth shut?¡±


    He rubbed his jaw. ¡°Well, you have proved you¡¯re good at asking questions.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Can you be professional?¡±


    ¡°Ahhhh¡­no. Probably not.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mr. Count. I went through this with Jacky. I¡¯ll try to keep my mouth shut, and when I fail, I¡¯ll try to sound professional.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ll keep your eyes open?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eyes open.¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it.¡±


    We got out of the car.


    The apartment building had a look of aged quality. At one point it might have been the best building on the street, and whoever owned it had put in the money to keep it in good condition.


    There was a security guard waiting inside the door. I knew I couldn¡¯t pretend to be that professional, so I stepped behind Vasil. He could do the talking. If he wasn¡¯t in the mood to talk, he could probably just stand there and his suit would get us through the door.


    But the suit wasn¡¯t the only trick he had.


    As we got close to the front desk, he pulled out a billfold and held it open near his face.


    ¡°My name is Darius Vasil, I¡¯m a Special Agent with the FBI. I¡¯m here to meet with Mr. Joel Aubert in unit 303.¡±


    It was a good thing I was standing behind the vampire. His body blocked the security guard¡¯s view of my gobsmacked expression.


    The guard made a show of inspecting the credentials and checking the count¡¯s face against the photo on the ID.


    When he was satisfied, he said, ¡°Good afternoon, Agent. Mr. Aubert is expecting you. I¡¯ll let you through.¡±


    As we rode up in the elevator, I whispered, ¡°Can I see your badge?¡±


    ¡°Maybe later. There¡¯s a camera in this elevator.¡±


    ¡°Where did you get it?¡±


    ¡°Washington DC.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit of a way to travel.¡±


    ¡°I travel a lot. It didn¡¯t seem too out of the way.¡±


    ¡°Can I have one?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­no?¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because you haven¡¯t earned it.¡±


    ¡°Fine. How much ¡®keeping my eyes open¡¯ does it take to earn a fake badge?¡±


    ¡°I would never allow you to use a fake badge.¡±


    The hypocrite!


    ¡°And why not, Count Vasil?¡±


    ¡°Because mine¡¯s real.¡±


    The elevator pinged, and the doors opened. Vasil strode into the hallway. One stunned second later, I scurried after him.


    ¡°Hey! You mean you¡¯re a real FBI agent?¡±


    ¡°My position with the Bureau is complicated, but, yes.¡± When he saw my grin, he said, ¡°If you¡¯re about to make an X-Files joke, allow me to assure you, I¡¯ve heard it before.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean that other people know?¡±


    ¡°A few of them.¡±


    ¡°Bu¡ªhow?¡­why?¡±


    ¡°Please articulate, Miss Cole. ¡®Speak clearly, if you speak at all¡­¡¯¡±


    I thought about that for a while.


    ¡°Were you this nitpicky before you became a vampire, or is it a part of the package deal?¡±


    His ¡°what¡± came out with a laugh.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that vampires are compulsive perfectionists.¡± I stared, meaningfully, at his suit.


    His hand went to his tie, but it was already straight. ¡°First of all, there¡¯s nothing compulsive about my perfectionism. I enjoy it. Second of all, your question was complete gibberish. I had no way to answer. I would hardly call that being ¡®nitpicky.¡¯¡±


    ¡°What about that last sentence? Were you being nitpicky about how I use the word nitpicky?¡±


    ¡°To answer your previous question¡ªI don¡¯t know about other vampires, but I cared about quality and exactness long before I became one.¡±


    ¡°So if I threw a cup of rice on the floor, you wouldn¡¯t stop to pick up all the grains?¡±


    ¡°If you threw a cup of rice on the floor, I would leave the room so I wouldn¡¯t have to listen to Igor lecture you. And, believe me, you would pick up the rice. Every last grain.¡±


    By then we were standing in front of a door with the brass number 303 beside it.


    The count stopped. ¡°Are you ready to be professional?¡±


    I saluted.


    He watched me for another second, then knocked.


    When the door opened, Vasil spoke first.


    ¡°Mr. Aubert?¡±


    Joel Aubert looked like he was in his late twenties. He had rumpled blond-brown hair and some matching scruff that was almost, but not quite, thick enough to qualify as a beard. His clothes were casual¡ªnothing but jeans, a T-shirt, and an unbuttoned, collared shirt over that.


    ¡°That¡¯s me,¡± he said. ¡°Are you Agent Vasil?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± Darius nodded to me. ¡°This is Miss Cole. May we come in?¡±


    Aubert stepped back and motioned for us to enter. Darius stepped inside. I followed.


    The apartment was small and cheaply furnished, but it was also clean. There were a few things left out, giving it a homey kind of feel.


    Aubert guided us over to his couch and had us sit while he grabbed a chair from his minuscule dining table.


    ¡°What can I do for you, Agent? I presume this is about Professor Wayde?¡±


    ¡°You know about his murder?¡±


    ¡°I heard yesterday, when I went on campus.¡±


    ¡°Are you a student there?¡±


    ¡°No, but I¡¯m doing some research at the library, and I¡¯ve applied to work there.¡±


    ¡°As a teacher?¡±


    He smiled. It was tight and couldn¡¯t quite hide his nervousness. ¡°I¡¯m not qualified to teach there. It would be a paperwork job.¡±


    ¡°But you knew Professor Wayde?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. He was kind enough to help me out with some questions.¡±


    ¡°How often did you see him?¡±


    ¡°Two or three times a week. Sometimes more. It depended on my schedule.¡±


    ¡°Did you only see him at the college?¡±


    ¡°No. He invited me back to his house a few times, when our discussions went on long enough he wanted a beer.¡±


    ¡°So you drank with him?¡±


    ¡°Occasionally.¡±


    ¡°Would you consider him a friend?¡±


    Aubert hesitated. ¡°Well, I liked him. I don¡¯t know if I was close enough I¡¯d count as a friend.¡±


    ¡°Was he hard to get close to?¡±


    There was another pause.


    I¡¯d been looking around the apartment (getting a real badge would probably take a lot more keeping-my-eyes-open), but those two pauses caught my attention. I turned my eyes to him.


    A hand was up on his face, hiding half of his expression. He moved it to say, ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t say that either.¡±


    ¡°How would you say it, Mr. Aubert?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say that Wayde was a friendly person. People were drawn to him, and he let all of them in, but I¡¯m not sure that he had many close friendships.¡±


    ¡°Did he have any?¡±


    Aubert shrugged. ¡°There were people he hung out with more than others. If you want to know who his close friends were, you could try asking Frost.¡±


    ¡°Frost?¡±


    ¡°Professor Ryan Frost. He teaches at the same college. I think he¡¯s been friends with Wayde the longest.¡±


    ¡°Do you know Professor Frost?¡±


    ¡°Sure. There were a few times he was there while Wayde and I talked.¡±


    ¡°This would be at Wayde¡¯s house? With a beer in hand?¡±


    Aubert nodded. ¡°And I say hello to him whenever we come across each other on campus.¡±


    ¡°When you were at Wayde¡¯s house, did he ever take you into his study?¡±


    Joel Aubert offered us another nervous smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve seen much more of his house. He loved his study. That¡¯s where we always talked.¡±


    ¡°But he had a living room,¡± I said.


    Aubert and Vasil looked at me.


    A stapler. That¡¯s what I needed to keep my mouth shut. Although, super glue sounded less painful.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Aubert said.


    ¡°He had a nice living room,¡± I said. ¡°It looked comfortable.¡±


    The armchairs in Wayde¡¯s study also looked comfortable, but the room itself was so crowded, I couldn¡¯t imagine that someone would rather be there than in the neat, spacious living room on the other side of the wall.


    Aubert shrugged again. ¡°I guess Wayde liked to talk about scholarly stuff in his scholarly room.¡±


    ¡°With all that stuff looking down at you?¡± I said. ¡°That must have been distracting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, who are you¡­Miss¡­?¡±


    ¡°Cole,¡± Darius said. ¡°Miss Cole is assisting the investigation.¡±


    Aubert¡¯s eyes moved over to the count. ¡°But she¡¯s not an agent.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    He looked at me. ¡°Police?¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Then may I ask how you¡¯re assisting, exactly?¡±


    Before I could get past my moment of panic to blurt out something about how death wanted me to take a look around, Vasil said, ¡°Do you want her to leave, Mr. Aubert?¡±


    Joel looked startled, then said, ¡°No¡ªit¡¯s¡­it¡¯s fine.¡±


    I mentally applauded the vampire¡¯s quick thinking.


    ¡°So you were familiar with Wayde¡¯s study?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Did anything stand out about it?¡±


    ¡°Like she said, he had a lot of artifacts. But, otherwise, no.¡±


    ¡°Did you ever get a chance to look at the Egyptian scroll?¡±


    Aubert didn¡¯t answer.


    Vasil went on, his voice smooth and quiet, ¡°Were there any other magicians in contact with Wayde?¡±


    Aubert¡¯s face cracked with a brittle smile. ¡°You¡¯re an FBI agent?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But you know about the scroll?¡±


    ¡°Have the police talked to you yet?¡±


    Aubert shook his head.


    Vasil said, ¡°They¡¯re investigating the murder. I¡¯m here to talk about the scroll.¡±


    Joel leaned forward. ¡°Did the Torr send you?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    Joel¡¯s eyes flicked over to me.


    When it came to who or what I might be, the fact that Darius had come from the Torr must have opened up a whole world of possibilities.


    I wondered what I could try to pass myself off as. Vampire was taken. I was too bald to be a werewolf, too tall to be a fairy, and Cosmo told me I couldn¡¯t be a witch¡ªwhich was a shame, because after seeing him, I knew they could wear colors.


    Vasil¡¯s voice dragged me from my thoughts.


    ¡°Mr. Aubert?¡±


    Joel smiled, and this time, it looked real. He relaxed into his chair with a sigh.


    ¡°All right,¡± he said. ¡°Thank you for letting me know. Let¡¯s start back at the beginning.¡±


    Vasil¡¯s only response was to raise an eyebrow.


    Aubert went on, ¡°I really am doing research at the library, but I have to bring in all my own material because, god knows, they don¡¯t have anything when it comes to what I¡¯m studying. Going there was an excuse to get to know Wayde. I was assigned to watch him by the Torr¡ªspecifically because of the Egyptian scroll. Did you know all this?¡±


    ¡°Please, go on.¡±


    With that line, I was satisfied that Darius Vasil was a real agent. And a talented one. He wasn¡¯t giving away anything.


    ¡°I managed to ingratiate myself enough to get into Wayde¡¯s house and check things out. I did get to see the scroll.¡± Aubert shrugged again. I couldn¡¯t tell if he did it all the time, or if he was intimidated by the situation. ¡°I¡¯m a sorcerer, so I didn¡¯t really know what to make of it, but it was there. It was fine, and it stayed crammed in the corner of his bookcase when he wasn¡¯t showing it off, so I thought it was safe.¡±


    ¡°Did Wayde often show it off?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. He showed it to me.¡±


    ¡°Did he set any stock by it?¡±


    ¡°He kept it on a bookshelf. He told me it was a fake, and he never made even the smallest effort to protect it. I can¡¯t imagine he thought it was valuable.¡±


    ¡°To the best of your knowledge, did he ever try to use it?¡±


    ¡°Use it how? Do you mean read it?¡±


    ¡°Could he read it?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. When I asked him what it said, he said he didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Did you ever learn what it said?¡±


    Aubert smiled. ¡°Sorry, Agent. I don¡¯t read Egyptian.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how he got the scroll?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I asked, but he never told me.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean he refused to answer your question?¡±


    ¡°It was more like he shrugged it off or managed not to hear me. I can¡¯t tell you if it was deliberate.¡±


    ¡°Did you ever try to take control of the scroll?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a sorcerer. Why would I want a religious scroll?¡±


    ¡°You never tried to secure it so others couldn¡¯t use it?¡±


    ¡°The only instructions I¡¯d been given were to make sure it was safe and that he wasn¡¯t experimenting with it.¡±


    Aubert was getting nervous again. I could hear it in his voice.


    ¡°You did fine, Mr. Aubert,¡± Darius assured him. ¡°I was only asking.¡±


    Aubert nodded. Probably to assure himself.


    ¡°And my question about the other magicians?¡± Darius prompted.


    ¡°Ashworth and Thorburn obviously know about the scroll¡ªthey¡¯re the ones who called me in. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anyone else involved, but I should tell you, I wouldn¡¯t be the right person to ask.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Well, I was lying to everyone, wasn¡¯t I? They didn¡¯t know I was a magician, so I wouldn¡¯t expect them to announce themselves.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t sense magic?¡±


    ¡°Are we talking about a witch? No. I can¡¯t sense witches.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I can¡¯t actually sense magic unless I¡¯m in the middle of a spell.¡±


    ¡°So as far as you know, there were no other magicians who were involved with Wayde?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how many people knew he had the scroll?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Agent Vasil. I didn¡¯t know Wayde that well. You¡¯ll have to ask someone else.¡±


    ¡°I understand. Mr. Aubert, circumstances have made it important for us to get our hands on that scroll. Do you know where it is?¡±


    ¡°Probably still in the bookcase. May I ask¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you know who inherits from Wayde?¡±


    Aubert scoffed. ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any plans to leave town any time soon?¡±


    ¡°No. This is where I live. That¡¯s why Ashworth called me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it. I¡¯d like you to make yourself convenient, in case we have any other questions.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re hoping to get permission to check Wayde¡¯s study, to see if the scroll is still there. Since you know where the scroll¡¯s supposed to be and what it looks like, would you be willing to help us?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯d be a problem.¡±


    ¡°Then you should be hearing from me soon. Thank you for your time, Mr. Aubert.¡±


    We all stood up. Aubert led us to the door and shut it behind us when we left.


    Darius and I walked down the hall in silence.


    While we were waiting for the elevator, he said, ¡°I noticed you were looking around his apartment. Did you see anything?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    It was a very neutral ¡°hmm,¡± but my stomach blanched all the same.


    ¡°Where are we going next?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to talk to Detective Moran.¡±


    ¡°Is he the guy who used to be in charge of the case before you got here?¡±


    ¡°The FBI does not take over investigations. I¡¯ll be working with him while focusing on my own case. He¡¯s looking for a murderer¡ª¡±


    ¡°While you¡¯re looking for a fake scroll?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°Sounds complicated.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°You have no idea.¡±


    ¡°Darius, is the scroll really that important? I mean, are we sure that¡¯s why Wayde¡¯s soul is missing?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not sure of anything at this point, but I¡¯d still like to know what was on it.¡±

 Chapter 14 - Detective Moran

    Going to the police station was not like I thought it would be.


    For one thing, you couldn¡¯t simply walk in, like you saw them do in TV shows. I mean, it makes sense when you think about it. Security would be an issue when it came to police stations.


    And when Agent Vasil finally managed to get us inside, the detective who introduced himself to us didn¡¯t come off anywhere near as smart as the police detectives in those same shows. The way Moran talked made it sound like he was a regular old guy doing a regular old job¡ªnot the illegitimate son of one of the Holmes brothers come to find his place in the world of crime fighting. Also, he lacked a super-humanly attractive female partner.


    On the other hand, you could tell he was doing his best. I liked that.


    ¡°The whole room¡¯s been processed. I have the reports in front of me. Lots of incidental information, but very little for leads. Our biggest break is the bloody fingerprints. They were all the victim¡¯s blood, and most were smeared, but we got a few clear partial prints. I¡¯d love to match them to someone.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t matched them yet?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Have you asked for any prints to eliminate them?¡±


    ¡°A few. I¡¯ll have to talk to the niece about who else might have been in that study.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a list of people they might belong to?¡±


    Detective Moran flicked through a few papers, then pulled one out.


    As Vasil looked at the list, Moran said, ¡°The niece gave us hers, and we¡¯ve tracked down some others. No matches so far. If we find whoever those fingerprints belong to, that¡¯ll be a real break, but right now, our problem is finding people to run the prints against.¡±


    ¡°I take it there aren¡¯t that many people with a motive.¡±


    ¡°It seems like Wayde was pretty popular. It could have been a theft gone wrong, except for two things¡ªfirst, there¡¯s no sign of anyone breaking in, and his niece said that the professor was always careful about locking up his house when he wasn¡¯t home¡ª¡±


    I broke in. ¡°But he was home. He had to be.¡±


    The detective gazed at me.


    ¡°That¡¯s how he got shot,¡± I added.


    ¡°It¡¯s true that there¡¯s no evidence the body was ever moved, but before he was shot, he was at a meeting¡ªone of those clubs that intellectuals get into. He left early. If it was a robbery, then the thief would¡¯ve targeted his house when he was supposed to be gone, but then Wayde came home and surprised them.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the second reason you don¡¯t like that idea?¡± Darius asked.


    The detective looked back at him. ¡°Because, at the moment, we don¡¯t think anything was taken¡ªalthough, I admit, that might take a while to verify.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    I almost made a joke about trying to find something in a messy room, but then I remembered I wasn¡¯t supposed to have seen that room. I clamped my mouth shut.


    The detective explained, ¡°Wayde had a lot of stuff, and he didn¡¯t keep paperwork for most of it. If they took only one item, we may never know.¡±


    ¡°Is the niece helping you?¡±


    ¡°As much as she can, but she doesn¡¯t know the collection all that well.¡±


    ¡°Could he have gone home early to meet his murderer?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s another option we¡¯re looking into. We¡¯re trying to get access to his calendar as we speak.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± I put my hands on my hips. ¡°I¡¯m pretty good at this.¡±


    A smile broke through Moran¡¯s blocky features. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but who¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s with me,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°With you how? She¡¯s not an agent.¡±


    I was offended by how certain he sounded. I could be an agent. Why couldn¡¯t I be an agent?


    ¡°I¡¯m consulting her as an expert,¡± Vasil said.


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    Oh. That was even better. I¡¯m so good the agents have to come to me.


    ¡°An expert?¡± Moran said. ¡°She¡¯s young enough she could be my daughter!¡±


    ¡°She could be, but she isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m a little confused. What does any of this have to do with counterfeit artifacts? Are you budging in on this murder?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Detective, you won¡¯t get out of it that easily. She¡¯s all yours.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you here?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re investigating whether or not Wayde was connected with some counterfeit artifacts coming into the country. I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t give you all the details, but I can tell you that Wayde wasn¡¯t the main suspect.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it might have something to do with his murder?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. The people I¡¯m after aren¡¯t usually murderers, but I promise you that if I learn anything or have any reason to suspect they¡¯re connected, I¡¯ll let you know.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I would appreciate that.¡±


    ¡°That being said, do you mind if I continue with my investigation? I¡¯ll try to keep out from under you, but I don¡¯t want to lose any time.¡±


    Moran leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and stared at the vampire. ¡°You know, you¡¯re very polite for an FBI agent.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°I know, right?¡±


    Moran¡¯s eyes flicked over to me, and he smiled.


    Darius said, ¡°I regret the insinuation that my fellow agents have no manners.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean ¡®resent?¡¯¡± I asked.


    Moran said, ¡°Or maybe he regrets it because he knows it¡¯s at least partially true.¡± He waved his hand. ¡°Nevermind. The answer is, I don¡¯t mind, and I couldn¡¯t stop you if I did.¡±


    ¡°The study is your crime scene,¡± Darius pointed out.


    ¡°And it¡¯s already been processed. Just be careful when you go tromping around there. If you want to remove anything, you¡¯ll have to inform me and St. John.¡±


    ¡°St. John?¡±


    ¡°Miranda St. John is his niece.¡± The detective copied down a phone number to a post-it note and passed it to Darius. ¡°Once the government is done with their bit, and presuming she isn¡¯t arrested for murder, she¡¯ll inherit everything.¡±


    ¡°Is she his closest family?¡±


    ¡°No. His sister, St. John¡¯s mother, is still alive. He made out a will favoring his niece.¡±


    Darius forgot himself for a moment; when he put his finger over his lips to puzzle over that last bit of information, his arm moved too fast for a human. Fortunately, Moran didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± Vasil said. ¡°Did she know she would be inheriting?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s hard to say. She says she didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± The vampire puzzled for a little longer, then looked up. ¡°Thank you for your time, Detective.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. You¡¯ll tell me if you learn anything?¡±


    ¡°The moment I do.¡±


    Darius stood up from his chair. I stood up as well, ready to follow him, but he only took one step before he turned around, almost bumping into me.


    ¡°Detective,¡± Darius said, ¡°may we look at the body?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do that. I have the report. One shot, upper-chest, from about four feet away, slight downward angle. It got his heart.¡±


    ¡°All the same.¡±


    Moran¡¯s head twitched to the side. ¡°We¡¯ve done the autopsy. There were no artifacts stuffed in a handy body cavity, so why¡ª¡±


    The air between the three of us grew heavy. It felt like an invisible blanket was pressing down. Darius¡¯s tone dropped, and there was a quiet timbre to his words that made my ears ache.


    ¡°Detective, may we look at the body?¡±


    There was a silence.


    Moran mumbled, ¡°Yes.¡± He blinked and shook his head. As he went on, his voice sounded more natural. ¡°I¡¯ll call down and let them know that you¡¯re coming.¡±


    He pulled out his phone. The invisible blanket lifted.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Darius said. ¡°Should I give you my contact information?¡±


    Moran dialed and put his phone to his ear. ¡°I got your number when you called me¡ªHello! Yes.¡± He waved to me and Darius as we headed over to the stairs.


    Once we were in the stairwell, I looked around to make sure I was alone with the vampire before saying, ¡°You were doing some weird voodoo mind trickery, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°You felt that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Technically not voodoo.¡±


    ¡°Voodoo, woodoo, who-do? You do! Does it matter? Magic is magic.¡±


    ¡°Voodoo is a specific kind of magic, and I don¡¯t practice it.¡±


    I thought about that for a bit.


    ¡°Voodoo is real?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Miss Cole. Voodoo is real.¡±


    ¡°Whatever. Do you have the fabled hypnotic powers or not?¡±


    The count frowned.


    ¡°Vasil?¡± I prompted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve wondered. The problem is that the strongest hypnotic powers are supposed to be over the people we¡¯ve fed from. I don¡¯t know the people I¡¯ve fed from. If I have any influence, it¡¯s far from perfect.¡±


    ¡°Would you ever use your hypnotic powers on me?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. I¡¯ve only ever tried to use them under very particular circumstances.¡±


    ¡°What kind of circumstances?¡±


    ¡°When I thought it might save someone¡¯s life.¡±


    There was a quiet note of some deep emotion when he said that. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was sadness or resolution, but my heart whispered with sympathy.


    I lowered my voice. ¡°Why did you do it to Detective Moran?¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t hypnotism. I was only trying to persuade him. I do that more often¡ªthough it¡¯s usually during an interrogation. And I did it this time because I really have no excuse for why we would need to see the body.¡±


    ¡°Why do you need to see the body?¡±


    Darius stopped in front of the door at the bottom of the stairwell. ¡°I don¡¯t. I want you to see it.¡±


    We stared at each other for what felt like a minute. Vasil¡¯s stoic expression softened.


    ¡°Emerra, have you seen a dead body before?¡±


    ¡°Ha! Sure! I mean¡­no. Well, yes? I mean, I am a dead body, and there are mirrors¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a dead body. You¡¯re far too lively for that.¡±


    ¡°I lived in a hospice.¡±


    Darius shut up.


    Right. I had managed to silence the vampire. The only thing left to do was continue blathering.


    ¡°Toward the end, I lived in a hospice. There was a death almost every day. I never saw the body, but you could hear it happening. They whispered¡ªthe nurses and caretakers¡ªyou¡¯d hear them whispering. I don¡¯t know why they thought it should be a secret. It used to bug me. A bunch of fast-walking footsteps and whispers.¡±


    I fell silent, but in my head I added, And then you¡¯d wonder if you¡¯d be the next secret.


    I managed a smirk. ¡°I¡¯m pretty familiar with death. Not as familiar as you, of course¡ªhow long have you lived with Jacky? Nevermind. Anyway, I¡¯m more familiar with death than most people. I can handle it.¡±


    Count Darius Vasil watched me for a while, then nodded. ¡°All right. But if you need to leave, tell me.¡±


    My tongue felt too clumsy to say anything, but I returned his nod with a much more enthusiastic one of my own. Not a corpse. Too lively. I had to remember to stay that way.

 Chapter 15 - The Corpse

    It was the red zig-zags that got me. The hole in his chest was bad¡ªI¡¯m not going to lie¡ªbut it was smaller than I would have thought, and it had been cleaned up. It didn¡¯t look real. The red zig-zags from where they had cut open his chest cavity then sewn him up again, the way the skin puckered around the stitches, the small depressions where his ribs were slightly misaligned, the various colors of the body, and the way his skin had drawn back from his face¡ªit was those details that reached right through my defenses the way a breeze can pass right through a jacket.


    I went cold and a little numb. I was glad for the numbness. It made it easier to look at the body.


    I could hear a murmur, but I wasn¡¯t sure if it was the muffled roaring in my ears. It took me a second to tune in.


    ¡°¡­Miss Cole?¡­Emerra!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    I looked up. It was Darius. Of course it was Darius. There was no one else in the room.


    I glanced at the deep wall broken up by the perfect rows of small doors. There was technically no one else in the room.


    ¡°Are they full?¡±


    The vampire followed my eyes. ¡°About half of them.¡±


    ¡°How¡­how do you know that?¡±


    ¡°Vampires are good at sensing blood.¡±


    ¡°Sensing?¡±


    ¡°Emerra.¡± He nodded to the body lying on the table.


    I swallowed and looked back down. After another second, I said, ¡°Is there anything in particular you want me to look at?¡±


    ¡°No. Just tell me if you see anything strange.¡±


    I stepped forward. The awfulness didn¡¯t get any worse, so I slowly walked around the table. Darius stepped out of the way so I could pass him.


    When I had finished the circuit, I looked up again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    My senses had cleared enough, I could hear how small my voice sounded.


    ¡°You don¡¯t see anything?¡±


    I gazed at the body. ¡°He¡¯s empty.¡±


    ¡°Empty?¡±


    I nodded, but my eyes were still fixed on the corpse. I lifted my arm¡ª


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    ¡°Emerra!¡±


    Darius¡¯s abrupt shout made me blink.


    He was on the other side of the table, reaching out to me. His face was frozen in an expression of startled concern. I almost turned to check if something was behind me, but then I realized he was staring right at me.


    ¡°You probably shouldn¡¯t touch him,¡± Darius said.


    I looked down. My hand was only an inch away from the hole in his chest.


    And that freaked me out more than anything I had seen so far.


    ¡°Ohhh-hohoho-kay!¡± I yanked my hand back. ¡°Well, now! Isn¡¯t that interesting?¡±


    Did I sound hysterical? No matter. I felt hysterical.


    I cleared my throat and looked up at Darius. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I, uh¡­I don¡¯t usually go around touching dead bodies.¡±


    He relaxed. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to startle you. It shouldn¡¯t matter, really. They¡¯ve already gathered the evidence. It just surprised me. Most people try to avoid touching them.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m the reason for all those ¡®don¡¯t touch¡¯ signs in the museums. Not that I read them. One of my teachers threatened to tie my hands behind my back.¡±


    ¡°Did you see anything?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I gazed down at the corpse, but this time I kept my eyes fixed on its hand. ¡°Nothing but one dead body. He looks lonely.¡±


    ¡°Lonely?¡±


    I shrugged.


    ¡°All right.¡± Darius¡¯s voice conveyed nothing¡ªno excitement, no disappointment, no resignation. I was pretty sure he had deliberately chosen that tone. ¡°Then let¡¯s get you out of here before you decide to start tampering with important evidence.¡±


    ¡°Good idea.¡±


    I didn¡¯t get to sleep until after two in the morning. I could hear the clock chime on the landing. When I did get to sleep, I had a nightmare.


    I woke bolt upright in bed, gasping


    My stomach was still cold and clenched in terror, but I couldn¡¯t remember anything about the dream. After a few breaths, I put a hand up to my face. I yanked it back when I felt the sheen of sweat on my forehead.


    Geez. What was happening to me?


    I grabbed my extra pillow to wipe my face, and I wasn¡¯t gentle about it.


    Stupid nightmare.


    I scooted back under my blankets, punched my pillow into shape, and let out a huge sigh of feigned relief.


    But all my acting couldn¡¯t change the fact my body felt like it was filled with ice-cold butterflies. When I couldn¡¯t ignore my nerves any longer, I threw myself from my bed and started pacing.


    Despite Iset¡¯s assurances that Conrad wasn¡¯t going to eat me, I hadn¡¯t been brave enough to use the TV room. I wasn¡¯t feeling any kind of brave at the moment, so all I could do was walk from one side of my room to the other, hoping to find a reason to be up.


    I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart stopped.


    I forced myself to turn around. There was nothing. I took a few steps back.


    The source of the movement had been the full length mirror inside my closet. I¡¯d seen the reflection of myself pacing.


    I laughed. It felt a bit like a sob.


    ¡°Emerra, you¡¯re scaring yourself,¡± I whispered. Then I grinned at the double-meaning.


    Still grinning at my unintended brilliance, I walked over to the mirror, reached out, and pressed one finger against the finger of my doppelg?nger.


    My smile faded.


    Olivia didn¡¯t have an extra set of pajamas. All she could offer was a tank top, so I slept in that and my underwear.


    My pale limbs looked ghostly compared to the darkness of the room. I had always been skinny, but the cancer had withered me away even further. With my hair gone and so little covering my body, I was exposed at last.


    I looked like a corpse.


    I closed my eyes to banish the thought. When I opened them again, I stared hard at the girl in the mirror.


    Pale. Thin. Dark eyes. Not a corpse.


    I didn¡¯t have the utter emptiness of the body on the table¡ªthat hard-to-explain hollowness. The body hadn¡¯t been empty like an empty jar, but like the emptiness of a jar where the glass that made up its walls has been peeled away, leaving nothing.


    There was something in the girl in the mirror. I could see that something in her eyes.


    But all the same¡­she looked lonely.

 Chapter 16 - Meeting at the College

    I stood around, sipping my coffee, and amusing myself with how little it would take for me to blend in with the students on campus.


    Darius had called Miranda St. John the night before. She said she could meet us at the college, and we could walk over to Wayde¡¯s house from there. I offered Darius my service with the optimistic (and baseless) assumption that I would get more than four hours of sleep. But never let it be said that I¡¯m not a woman of my word! I asked Igor if there was a thermos I could borrow and loaded it with enough coffee to wake me up and enough sugar to make it palatable.


    ¡°Where can I buy an anarchist T-shirt?¡± I said.


    Darius glanced at me as we walked. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It looks like I shaved my head, so I could probably fit in with them.¡±


    ¡°Until you opened your mouth.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sipped some more coffee.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you can buy anarchist shirts. I thought the whole point of anarchy was the desire to break down the current corrupt system to pave the way for natural law and order. Buying a shirt from a bunch of capitalists would probably defeat the point.¡±


    I raised a finger. ¡°Ah! Not if you do it ironically!¡±


    ¡°How does one go about buying something ironically?¡±


    ¡°In this case it would be something like, ¡®Ah ha! Capitalist scum! Enjoy these last few dollars¡ªthey only add to the list of sins for which you¡¯ll be overthrown!¡¯¡±


    ¡°Do any theater kids shave their heads? You could fit in with them.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t theater kids, Darius. That¡¯s high school. This is college. They¡¯ve been promoted to theater majors.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Thank you for correcting me.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going anyway?¡±


    ¡°Since we have a few extra minutes, I thought we¡¯d say hello to the Director of the School of Anthropology, Peter Kiel.¡±


    ¡°Okay. And who¡¯s he?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s Wayde¡¯s boss.¡± Darius¡¯s inborn sense of exactness wasn¡¯t going to leave that alone, so he tagged on, ¡°Kind of.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Colleges and universities are complicated. Kiel is technically the head of Wayde¡¯s department, but it¡¯s not like he could have fired Wayde.¡±


    ¡°Um¡ª¡±


    ¡°Professor Wayde had tenure. Theoretically, that means that he had a right to due process before being dismissed, but in reality, it meant that almost nothing short of dynamite could have moved him from his position.¡±


    We stepped into the shadow of the building.


    ¡°And why are we saying hello to Peter Kiel?¡± I asked.


    Darius reached out for the door handle. I could barely see his eyes, gazing at me through his sunglasses. There was an expression of innocence plastered on his face.


    ¡°To be polite,¡± the vampire said. ¡°I¡¯m sure he wouldn¡¯t want a bunch of strangers he hasn¡¯t met wandering around his corner of the campus.¡±


    And Darius thought I¡¯d make a good theater major?


    I pointed at him. ¡°You just want to snoop around and meet him.¡±


    ¡°Emerra, I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re accusing me of.¡±


    ¡°I thought our priority was getting our hands on that scroll.¡±


    ¡°Our highest priority is finding out what happened to Wayde¡¯s soul, and our best hope of that involves finding out who murdered him. The scroll is only one lead.¡±


    Darius led us inside, and we made our way up to the office of Director Kiel. The count used his FBI credentials to introduce himself to the young administrative assistant at the desk. He assured her that nothing was wrong, but she still looked scared. When he asked if Kiel had a moment to talk to him, she scurried into the next room.


    A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a tall, thin, severe looking man. The administrative assistant was peeking out from behind him.


    ¡°Agent Vasil?¡± the man said.


    Darius nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m Peter Kiel. I understand you wanted to talk to me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a warrant?¡±


    ¡°No. I only have a few questions.¡±


    ¡°What about?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here on a matter related to Professor Wayde.¡±


    When the administrative assistant heard Wayde¡¯s name, the fear in her face cleared, leaving only a trace of sadness.


    Kiel¡¯s face didn¡¯t change at all.


    ¡°I see.¡± He opened the door wider. ¡°Come into my office.¡±


    The administrative assistant dodged around her boss to make room for us. As Kiel closed the door behind us, I saw her sitting at her desk, watching us from the corner of her eye until the door blocked her view.


    I had a feeling she¡¯d be reaching for her phone before we even made it to our chairs.


    We sat in the chairs across the desk from Kiel. The director put his elbows on the arms of his chair and folded his hands in front of him. He didn¡¯t rock in his chair or fidget, and his mouth barely moved as he spoke.


    ¡°Is the FBI investigating Wayde¡¯s murder?¡± Kiel asked.


    Darius smirked. ¡°Ah, well, that¡¯s a difficult question to answer¡ª¡±


    The vampire¡¯s friendly overture was interrupted by Kiel¡¯s one-word command: ¡°Try.¡±


    Vasil¡¯s smile faded, and his demeanor took on some heft. There was an intensity in his eyes that reminded me of how a hawk stares at a mouse the moment before it dives¡ªand since the man was a vampire, the predator-prey dynamic wasn¡¯t some cute metaphor. I had no idea why someone would rather have Darius watching them like that, verses smiling, but Kiel had made his preference clear.


    Darius said, ¡°I¡¯ve contacted Detective Moran, the man in charge of Wayde¡¯s murder investigation. He knows I¡¯m here, and we¡¯ve agreed to help each other should our investigations overlap. However, at this time, we have no reason to suspect that they do. My own investigation centers around artifact smuggling.¡±


    Poor Kiel. His face wasn¡¯t nearly stony enough, and it¡¯s so much easier to see the subtle reactions when most of the time there are none.


    He scowled. As brief and small as it was, I had seen it. So had Darius. I could tell by how the vampire paused and cocked his head.


    ¡°Professor Kiel, you wouldn¡¯t know anything about that, would you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Your reaction?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware of my reaction, but if I had one, I¡¯m sure you can understand. I¡¯m the head of a respected college of anthropology¡ªit would be natural for me to be upset by the idea that one of my professors was involved in that kind of a scandal.¡±


    ¡°Did you like Professor Wayde?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    I let out a low whistle, then cursed myself. Why hadn¡¯t I thought to check my watch!


    Oh, right. I didn¡¯t have one.


    If I was going to time myself to see how long I could go without blurting something out, I would probably have to get one of those.


    Anyway, Kiel was glaring at me now.


    ¡°Dang, dude,¡± I said. ¡°A man gets murdered, an FBI agent is sitting across from you, and you just up and ¡®no¡¯ when asked if you liked him? Impressive.¡±


    The flinty glare mellowed and Kiel looked away. ¡°I¡¯ve always found that the bare truth simplifies everything. I didn¡¯t like Wayde. To say anything else would be a lie.¡±


    ¡°Did other people like Wayde?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure some did.¡±


    ¡°His students seemed to like him.¡±


    ¡°He was a charismatic teacher, but I would advise against judging a man¡¯s character by that.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell us why you don¡¯t like him?¡±


    ¡°Do my personal feelings  about Wayde have anything to do with whether or not he was smuggling artifacts?¡±


    ¡°I never said he was smuggling artifacts.¡± The vampire¡¯s voice was cold.


    Kiel frowned. ¡°I thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°You assumed. Probably because of your negative bias.¡±


    So this was the not-nice Darius. I shivered.


    After a moment, the director said, ¡°Why do you want to know what I think of Wayde?¡±


    ¡°Because I never had the chance to meet him. I¡¯m trying to get a measure on him.¡±


    Kiel fixed his eyes on a point of space near the ceiling. ¡°Wayde liked people, and he could be charming, but he was also flippant. He had a tendency to tease people, and he was unprofessional.¡±


    ¡°Unprofessional?¡± Darius said.


    ¡°In his conduct toward the students.¡±


    I thought about Wayde¡¯s popularity and tried to imagine what he might have looked like when he was alive. He had probably been fairly handsome. Especially for his age.


    ¡°Was there trouble with any female students?¡± I asked.


    At first Kiel seemed confused, but then his mouth twisted with contempt.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You¡¯re asking if he ever dated a student? No. We¡¯ve never had any reason to believe that was a problem.¡±


    ¡°Then what was the problem?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°A man can ignore the concept of professional distance without going so far as sexual harassment.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t keep the surprise out of my voice: ¡°Your objection to him was that he was too friendly?¡±


    ¡°You asked for my opinion on Professor Wayde¡ªI don¡¯t have to justify it. If you don¡¯t see the value in it, you can ignore what I¡¯ve said, and maybe, next time, don¡¯t ask.¡±


    I shut my mouth while wishing I had put that effort in a few seconds earlier. Judging by how Kiel¡¯s jaw was clenched, Darius probably wasn¡¯t going to get much more out of him.


    The count didn¡¯t even get the chance to try. The phone on Kiel¡¯s desk started vibrating. Kiel flipped it over so he could see the screen, then lifted it to his head while holding up a finger to request our silence.


    ¡°This is Kiel. Yes. Thank you for returning my call. Unfortunately, I have company at the moment. May I put you on hold?¡­It should take no longer than a minute.¡± He lowered the phone and tapped the screen. ¡°Agent Vasil, I¡¯m afraid this is rather important business.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. If I have any other questions, can I set an appointment with your assistant?¡±


    Kiel frowned, but he also nodded.


    Vasil added, ¡°You may be seeing me around the building for a while¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome in the building, but I want you to make it clear to everyone you talk to that you don¡¯t have a warrant and they don¡¯t have to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    Darius and I got to our feet and left, closing the door as we went.


    When I turned around, the vampire was looking at his watch.


    ¡°It¡¯s time for us to go to Wayde¡¯s office,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s where Miss St. John said she¡¯d meet us.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where his office is?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I can take you,¡± someone said.


    We looked up. There was a man sitting across from the administrative assistant. He was slightly smaller than average, and his body was round like an egg. His thinning brown hair was frizzy enough it wanted to stand up, but it had been pressed down into some semblance of order. He had dark brown, down-turned eyes and lots of smile wrinkles. They looked out of place on such a sad face.


    He stood up.


    ¡°Were you here to meet with Kiel?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°We were going to meet up for lunch, but it can wait.¡± The man motioned to the administrative assistant. ¡°We¡¯ve been gossiping while you were in there. I understand you¡¯re FBI?¡±


    ¡°Special Agent Darius Vasil.¡± Darius held out his hand and the two men shook.


    ¡°I¡¯m Ryan Frost. Professor Wayde was my friend.¡±


    He tried to sound matter-of-fact when he said it, but there was a note of grief in his voice.


    The friend of the murdered man. Aubert had mentioned him. No wonder he looked sad.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Frost said. ¡°I can take you. This building is a bit of a labyrinth.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. That would be appreciated,¡± Darius said.


    As we walked down the hall, Frost glanced back at us. ¡°May I ask how your case is going, Agent?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s early in the investigation, so there¡¯s a lot we don¡¯t know, and even if I did know, there¡¯s a limit to how much I can share. May I ask you a few questions?¡±


    Frost slowed until he was walking beside the vampire. ¡°I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Before we begin, Director Kiel wanted me to inform you that I have no warrant, and I can¡¯t make you talk to me.¡±


    Frost smiled, and for a moment, all the lines on his face seemed to fit. ¡°That¡¯s Kiel for you. He¡¯s a good man.¡±


    ¡°Are you friends with him as well?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know there. It¡¯s more professional than friendly, but I like Kiel.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re friendly enough to go to lunch with him.¡±


    Frost waved his hand dismissively. ¡°He goes to lunch with most of the professors under him. It¡¯s a kind of informal meeting where we can talk to him about any problems or concerns we have.¡±


    ¡°He sounds very conscientious.¡±


    ¡°Conscientious? No, he¡¯s brilliant. If we don¡¯t have anything we need to talk about, it¡¯s a chance for us to get to know each other. We have the closest group of professors on the whole campus.¡±


    ¡°And he did that on purpose?¡±


    Frost peered at Darius from the side of his eye. ¡°You know, I think he did.¡±


    ¡°So these lunches must be important to him.¡±


    Frost looked forward again. ¡°It¡¯s all right¡ªlike I said, he can wait. Half the time, he¡¯s the one that¡¯s behind schedule.¡±


    Vasil smiled. ¡°That wasn¡¯t exactly where I was going with that.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°You said he went to lunch with most of the professors. Who are the exceptions?¡±


    Both my eyebrows jumped. No wonder they gave that blood-sucker a badge. I had totally missed that.


    Frost didn¡¯t answer.


    Darius said, ¡°Or should I say, who was the exception?¡±


    The professor let out a peculiar laugh. It was the opposite of a gasp¡ªit was a sudden exhalation of air with a shaky ¡°ha!¡± holding on to the end. ¡°That¡¯s a good guess, Agent. Yes, Wayde was the exception.¡±


    Darius and I shared a glance behind Frost¡¯s back.


    ¡°Kiel did mention he wasn¡¯t fond of Wayde¡­¡± I said.


    What I didn¡¯t say was that hardly seemed like a good enough reason to bar him from a lunch that should have been about business.


    ¡°Wayde was like that,¡± Frost said. ¡°He was a big character, and when you¡¯re big, people either love you or they hate you.¡± Frost turned his head to look at us. ¡°He was an excellent teacher. Passionate, funny, charismatic¡ªa real showman. The students loved him.¡±


    ¡°What did you think of him?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve always liked him. We went to college together, you know, and I have a sneaky suspicion that he helped me get my job here. He, of course, has always denied that.¡± Frost turned his head to look at the vampire. ¡°He was always better at interviews than I was.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve known him a long time?¡±


    ¡°Since I was a first-year grad student. I started following Trev around because he was so confident.¡±


    ¡°It must have been all that charisma,¡± I said.


    Frost glanced at me suspiciously, but he relaxed when he saw I was serious. ¡°Exactly. He¡¯d stand up in class and talk back to the professor with all the assurance of a mythic hero. When we¡¯d sit around a cafe, debating, he was this beacon¡ªsitting there, listening. When he spoke, everyone stopped to hear what he¡¯d say.¡± The professor¡¯s enthusiasm wavered. ¡°Truth is, he was my opposite. He had the draw that I wanted.¡±


    ¡°Director Kiel said that he was flippant,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Flippant?¡±


    ¡°And that he had a tendency to tease,¡± I added.


    Frost smiled and shook his head. A second later he said, ¡°Director Kiel is a fine man, and I wouldn¡¯t want anyone else to be the director here, but¡ªin case you haven¡¯t already figured it out¡ªhe tends to be very serious. Trev wasn¡¯t the serious sort. They were at odds before Kiel even got promoted.¡±


    ¡°Professor,¡± Darius said, ¡°do you know if there was any specific incident that led to their animosity?¡±


    ¡°A specific incident? Nothing comes to mind. They¡¯re just two different people.¡± Frost stopped. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    The door looked like every other door in the hall, but to the side of it was a sliding nameplate that announced it belonged to Prof. Wayde. Someone had put a cartoon stegosaurus sticker on it.


    I realized there was a nonzero chance it had been Wayde.


    Frost opened the door, but he hesitated for a moment before passing inside.


    ¡°It¡¯s empty,¡± he said.


    This was not strictly true. There was a man and a woman in the room. They both looked up as we came in.


    The man was in his mid-twenties. He had shoulder-length, sandy blond hair, a thin but handsome face, and a smirk. The smirk seemed like a permanent feature. He was sitting at a desk facing the door, with a laptop open in front of him.


    The woman looked like she was in her mid to late twenties. She was tall, slim, and pretty in a fashionable, nerdy kind of way. She had big glasses and chin length brown-blond hair. She was leaning back on the low bookshelves that lined the far side of the room. She was close to the man, but not close enough to read over his shoulder.


    When she heard Frost¡¯s comment, she smiled sadly. ¡°I know. It¡¯s a real ghost town.¡±


    Despite its occupants, the room did have that feeling. It was like the constant presence of a crowd had left an impression on the space. With only a few people there, it felt haunted.


    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Frost asked.


    The man said, ¡°Now that the ringmaster is dead, the only clowns we get in here are the gawkers who want to know more about the murder. When we tell them we don¡¯t know anything, they leave.¡± His chair squeaked as he leaned back and crossed his arms. ¡°Why are you here, Frost? Moving in already?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Summer, I wish you wouldn¡¯t say things like that. These two¡±¡ªhe motioned to us¡ª¡°needed a guide to Wayde¡¯s office.¡± To us, he said, ¡°This is Louis Summer. He¡¯s a Ph.D. student and Wayde¡¯s assistant.¡±


    Summer dragged himself to his feet. The woman stepped back so he could come out from around the desk, then followed him. They came toward us.


    While Darius was shaking Summer¡¯s hand, I was able to peer around the room.


    It wasn¡¯t a normal office. I might have called it a lab, if I knew that anthropologists had labs. There were three other small desks, aside from the one Summer had been working at. The bookshelves were filled with books, boxes, and files. There were maps along the walls, and even a few artifacts, although it was nowhere near as crowded as Wayde¡¯s personal study. There was a door at the end of the room, and I was willing to bet that behind it there was a room with a larger desk and even more artifacts.


    As my eyes roved, I noticed the woman was watching me. Considering the somber atmosphere, I didn¡¯t want to grin or anything, but I tried out a small smile and waved with my fingers. She returned the favor before her attention was called away.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know your name,¡± Frost said to her.


    ¡°Rena Drix,¡± she said.


    ¡°Are you an anthropology student?¡±


    ¡°Not here. I came over this summer to do some research.¡±


    ¡°Oh. So I won¡¯t be seeing you in any of my classes?¡±


    She smiled. ¡°That depends on how much I¡¯m procrastinating.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯d be welcome.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Professor.¡±


    I liked her. She had a kind voice.


    Darius said to Summer, ¡°How long have you been Wayde¡¯s assistant?¡±


    ¡°One year and two months¡± was his instant answer.


    ¡°Oh, to have a young man¡¯s memory,¡± Frost said.


    ¡°People tend to remember near death experiences,¡± Summer said, ¡°and escaping a hundred degree summer with no air conditioning is as close as I¡¯ve come.¡±


    ¡°Where were you?¡± Darius asked.


    Professor Frost closed his eyes. There was a resigned look on his face. Drix smiled ruefully and shook her head.


    Summer raised his voice. ¡°Israel, mostly. But I traveled around with my father.¡±


    ¡°Your father?¡±


    ¡°You mean you haven¡¯t heard of Fredrick Summer?¡± Rena asked. Maybe it was my imagination, but there seemed to be a hint of sarcasm in the question.


    I shook my head.


    Darius said, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Louis Summer shrugged. ¡°I guess I¡¯m too used to hanging around here. Most people in this building know who he is.¡±


    ¡°I take it he¡¯s an anthropologist?¡± I said to Rena.


    Frost corrected me: ¡°Archaeologist. One of the old style diggers. He¡¯s rather famous.¡±


    Darius said to Summer, ¡°Why did you come back?¡±


    ¡°Well, the air conditioning was a large part of it, but there was also the matter of finishing my Ph.D.¡±


    ¡°But Professor Wayde wasn¡¯t an archaeologist,¡± I said. I did a quick mental review to see if I was being stupid. Nope. Everything I remembered said anthropologist, not archaeologist. Not that I had a firm grasp on the difference between the two. ¡°Did you decide to switch fields?¡±


    ¡°You should try being an archaeologist some time. It only took one summer out there to convince me that doing research from behind a computer was a lot more comfortable than working at a dig. The other three years I spent trying to convince my father to send me home.¡±


    Drix said, ¡°If you¡¯re hoping to work a dig, don¡¯t let him talk you out of it. Everyone else I¡¯ve talked to who¡¯s done it says they enjoyed it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and where did they work?¡± Summer asked. ¡°North Carolina?¡±


    I raised a hand. ¡°You¡¯ve got the wrong idea. I¡¯m not a digger.¡±


    Rena smiled again. The hint of sadness was back. ¡°Were you hoping to meet Professor Wayde?¡±


    The metaphorical lightbulb over my head flared. Maybe I was blending in better than I thought.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not a prospective student. I¡¯m assisting him.¡± I jerked my thumb toward the count.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a new professor, are you?¡± Drix asked Darius.


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    Summer chimed in with ¡°Not even Director Kiel could replace Wayde that fast.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Special Agent Darius Vasil, with the FBI, this is Miss Emerra Cole¡ª¡±


    ¡°FBI?¡± Summer¡¯s smirk morphed into a grin. ¡°Then you¡¯re here about his murder?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± the vampire said.


    ¡°How can it be ¡®something like that?¡¯¡±


    ¡°My case involves counterfeit artifacts. I wanted to talk to Professor Wayde about them, but that¡¯s impossible thanks to his untimely death. Curious, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Summer didn¡¯t seem to have an answer.


    Professor Frost put his hand on Darius¡¯s arm. ¡°Well, you¡¯re here, safe and sound, so I¡¯ll go find Kiel. I¡¯m sure Miranda won¡¯t be long.¡±


    Before Frost could take a step, Summer said, ¡°Miranda?¡±


    The professor stopped and looked at him. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s coming here?¡±


    ¡°She agreed to meet them here.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    Summer wasn¡¯t smirking anymore. Since Rena Drix was standing beside him, I saw the flash of emotion cross her face. If I had to guess, I¡¯d call it amusement.


    Frost waved goodbye and left. The moment the door clicked shut, Louis Summer was at his desk, shoveling stuff into his bag.


    ¡°Leaving already, Louis?¡± Drix said.


    Yes. She was definitely amused.


    ¡°Have to,¡± Summer said. ¡°Classes, appointments¡ªsomething like that. I¡¯m sure I¡¯m busy.¡±


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t have anything to do with Miranda?¡±


    Louis paused long enough to glare at Rena. ¡°I try to have as little to do with Miss St. John as possible.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like her?¡± Vasil asked.


    Summer closed his bag. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ªwhich version of her are we talking about?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying she¡¯s two-faced?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying it¡¯s not wise to assume you know her. Goodbye, Agent. Good luck.¡±


    He set a fast pace toward the exit, but he was doomed to lose that race with fate. The door opened as he reached out for the handle. He had to step back or risk getting hit.


    Both he and the door stopped.


    ¡°Hey, Louis,¡± a new voice said.


    Miranda St. John stepped through the door. She had long, dark hair I would have been jealous of even before I was bald. It was held back in a clip, but a few strands had escaped. The wavy flyaways floated around her face. Her eyes were dark, and freckles speckled her nose and cheekbones. She was pretty. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but cute.


    Summer only returned the greeting with ¡°Miranda.¡± Then he leaned close and whispered something. It couldn¡¯t have been more than a few words, but whatever he said made her pale. When Summer straightened up again, the smirk was back on his face.


    He stepped around her and left.


    Miranda finished coming into the room and let the door shut behind her. There was a nervous openness in her expression. Either she looked like a teddy bear, or she looked like she needed a teddy bear. Whichever it was, I kind of wanted to hug her.


    I leaned toward Rena. ¡°That¡¯s Miranda St. John?¡± I whispered. ¡°The feminine horror that causes men to flee the room?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± she whispered back.


    ¡°What¡¯s her other face supposed to look like? A kitten?¡±


    ¡°Louis asked her out once, and she turned him down flat.¡±


    ¡°That makes her two-faced?¡±


    ¡°Miranda¡¯s a nice girl, and he thinks nice girls shouldn¡¯t do that.¡±


    St. John came toward our group. ¡°Agent Vasil?¡±


    Darius stepped forward. ¡°Yes, Miss St. John.¡± He held out his hand to shake. ¡°I have my credentials if you¡¯d like to see them, but first, allow me to offer you my condolences.¡±


    Her eyes widened, then she lowered them. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    They let go of each other¡¯s hand. Darius motioned to me.


    ¡°This is Miss Emerra Cole. We appreciate the fact that you were willing to help us at such a busy time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell the FBI no.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate that too.¡±


    She smiled at his joke, but it was only a flicker. ¡°Shall we go?¡±


    ¡°Please.¡±


    I waved to Drix as we left. Miranda led us out of the building without a word. I tagged along behind her and Darius, and tried not to look like I knew where I was going.

 Chapter 17 - Searching Waydes Study

    It was a beautiful day. The early morning rain had made the scent of the grass and the dead leaves all the more powerful. I shoved my hands in my tiny pockets and inhaled the cool air as we walked. It felt good to be alive.


    Or, at least, not dead.


    We walked along in silence. I didn¡¯t mind, but I wondered if it was bothering Miranda. Her body was so tight that her shoulders curled up toward her ears.


    It wasn¡¯t until we reached the crosswalk between the edge of the campus and Wayde¡¯s neighborhood that Darius decided to say something.


    ¡°Were you close to your uncle?¡±


    Now, mind you, this was the nice Darius speaking; his voice had been nothing but curious and kind. Miranda still jumped.


    She gripped the strap of her bag and said, ¡°Yes. I mean¡­no. Yes and no.¡± She forced a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m not being very clear, am I?¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± Darius said. ¡°Answers aren¡¯t always easy.¡±


    The light changed, and we started across the street.


    Miranda explained, ¡°I met him once or twice when I was a child, but I only really got to know him recently.¡±


    ¡°How recently?¡±


    ¡°A little over two years ago.¡±


    ¡°Would that be about the time you started college?¡±


    She nodded. That seemed to be all she had to say on the matter.


    We walked along for a few feet, then Darius looked up at the gray sky and said, as if to himself, ¡°And your uncle was a professor.¡± He looked back at her. ¡°Is he the reason you applied here?¡±


    ¡°Mostly. I knew I wanted to go away for college, but I wasn¡¯t sure where I should go. I got a letter from Uncle Trevon about a month before my graduation, congratulating me and asking if I¡¯d ever considered going to his college.¡±


    ¡°Were you excited to apply?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a really good school. I wasn¡¯t sure I could get in, but Uncle Trev said he¡¯d help.¡±


    ¡°That was kind of him.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± she whispered.


    After a few steps, she glanced at Darius and realized he was still watching her.


    Her eyes fixed forward and she went on, ¡°He sent me all the paperwork and coached me through the application process. He was really happy when I got in. I think he felt invested. When I got here, he wanted to spend some time with me, so we had dinner together every once in a while. That¡¯s how I got to know him.¡±


    ¡°How often did you eat together?¡±


    ¡°Once every other week or so. He liked to cook.¡±


    ¡°Not a bad way to save some money as a student,¡± I noted.


    A flicker of a smile crossed her face. ¡°Yeah. There was that.¡±


    Darius said, ¡°Did you enjoy your dinners with him?¡±


    Three steps later, she finally answered. ¡°I did. Sometimes we¡¯d sit around after dinner, talking. He knew the craziest things. Or he¡¯d ask me how my classes were going, and we¡¯d gossip about my professors.¡±


    ¡°That sounds fun. His specialty was religious anthropology, right?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Technically, he¡¯d say he was¡±¡ªa pompous note snuck into her voice¡ª¡°a cultural anthropologist, specializing in ancient religions and rituals.¡±


    Vasil nodded. ¡°Very nice. Did he make you memorize that?¡±


    Miranda smiled for real this time, and that smile transformed her face. She went from being pretty to being absolutely beautiful. ¡°He held my ice-cream hostage until I could repeat it.¡±


    Darius smiled back.


    Then, as suddenly as Miranda¡¯s good mood had appeared, it vanished. She lowered her head, and we trudged along.


    Poor Darius. I could tell he was doing everything he could to get her to open up. It was like watching Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the hill, only to have it tumble all the way back down when he was nearly at the top.


    And the only reason I remembered the story of Sisyphus was because, in high school, I had once made the mistake of calling him Syphilis. Yeah. You don¡¯t make that mistake twice.


    I was still pondering life¡¯s various teaching methods when the count decided to try again.


    ¡°What about you? Do you share his love of anthropology?¡±


    Maybe my funky black eyes were playing tricks on me, but I thought I saw Miranda lurch. If it was real, it wasn¡¯t enough to trip her up.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I thought it was interesting, but I wanted to study something else.¡±


    ¡°May I ask what?¡±


    ¡°Psychology.¡±


    ¡°Aha!¡± I cried. ¡°It¡¯s the rinky-dink-shrinky shrink!¡±


    Miranda St. John stopped and turned to me, laughing. ¡°What?¡±


    Go on, blush harder, you idiot. Maybe she¡¯ll catch on to the fact you don¡¯t think before you speak.


    Out loud, I said, ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ve met one or two psychologists.¡±


    ¡°Rinky-dink-shrinky shrink?¡±


    I purposefully kept my eyes away from Darius. I didn¡¯t want to know what he thought of my professionalism.


    ¡°You know,¡± I said, ¡°people call psychologists ¡®shrinks,¡¯ right?¡±


    ¡°Okay. And?¡±


    ¡°And one of them was really short and had a great sense of humor, so he didn¡¯t mind that I called him¡ª¡±


    ¡°A rinky-dink-shrinky shrink?¡± She laughed again.


    I shrugged.


    The count said, ¡°Please forgive my associate¡ª¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± Miranda asked. ¡°That¡¯s hilarious.¡± She said to me, ¡°Thank you¡­Miss Cole, was it?¡±


    ¡°Call me Emerra,¡± I said.


    ¡°Thank you, Emerra. I needed that.¡±


    ¡°No worries,¡± I assured her. ¡°My capacity to say dumb things knows no bounds.¡±


    She turned and kept walking.


    I still wasn¡¯t looking at Darius, so I can¡¯t tell you what his expression was, but his voice was devoid of intonation as he recited, word by word, ¡°Rinky, dink, shrinky, shrink?¡±


    I pointed down the block. ¡°Oh, look! The house.¡±


    The stone walkway that led up to Wayde''s house started with a set of flat-rock stairs that moved up the steep incline of his yard until it flattened out. The two flower gardens on either side of the porch stairs were bare, but the grass sparkled with flecks of rainwater.


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    As we were going up the front walk, my foot skidded on one of the stone steps.


    ¡°Careful!¡± Miranda called.


    She reached out to catch me, but Darius moved faster than she did. I didn¡¯t even see the blur. One of his hands was on my shoulder, the other was on my arm¡ªI had no idea how they got there.


    We all relaxed.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± St. John said. ¡°I should have warned you. It gets slick when it¡¯s wet.¡±


    I assured her I was fine while internally marveling that Olivia would prefer high heel boots when sneakers had been invented.


    We walked on (a little more carefully this time) up the stairs and across the grassy lawn.


    Joel Aubert was waiting for us on the porch. As we got closer, he hailed us.


    Darius returned his greeting. We climbed up the porch stairs.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Mr. Aubert,¡± Vasil said. ¡°Thank you for coming to help.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Joel turned. ¡°Miranda, it¡¯s good to see you again.¡±


    Her cheeks turned slightly pink under her freckles, and she nodded.


    ¡°You¡¯ve met each other?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Two or three times,¡± Aubert said.


    While they talked, Miranda searched through her bag for the key to the house. I noticed that the police tape was gone from the door. Miranda found the key, unlocked the door, and we all went inside.


    ¡°You said you wanted to see the study?¡± Miranda asked.


    ¡°Please,¡± Darius said.


    Miranda left her backpack by the door, and I put my empty thermos down beside it. Miranda crossed the living room toward the study and stood by the open door.


    ¡°In here,¡± she said.


    The doorway rose over me as I drew closer. I hesitated on the threshold, but the count was behind me. He put a hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me through. Aubert followed him.


    The bloodstained armchair was gone. I walked over to the empty spot next to the small table and stood there, feeling awkward and somehow brave.


    That¡¯s right. What¡¯s not here can¡¯t scare me.


    Miranda still hadn¡¯t come in the room. Darius and Aubert were both watching her hover outside the door. It looked like she was waiting for permission to come in.


    Darius said in his most gentle voice, ¡°I understand you were the one who found the body.¡±


    She nodded.


    Geez. No wonder she¡¯d stopped. The memory of the bloodstains had been enough to make me hesitate. How much worse must it have been to come in and see the blood-soaked body, sitting in the ruined chair¡ª


    I shook my head to clear the image that had dug its roots into my mem¡ªmy imagination.


    You can¡¯t remember things you didn¡¯t see, Emerra.


    I walked over to the remaining armchair. It was still turned from when Jacky and I had been there. I turned it back.


    ¡°I think the cleaners have been here,¡± I said. ¡°This place looks really good.¡±


    ¡°They have been,¡± Miranda said. ¡°I hired them.¡± She stepped into the room, but she kept her eyes away from where the other chair used to be.


    As Darius walked over to the wall of bookshelves, he said, ¡°You hired the cleaners?¡±


    ¡°I had to do everything. I had to take care of Uncle Trev¡¯s body too. He didn¡¯t leave any instructions¡ªjust that I was in charge.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    Never had such an innocuous ¡°huh¡± caused such reaction. I could see the color drain from Miranda¡¯s face from across the room.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask to be his heir.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right, Miss St. John,¡± Darius said. ¡°I was only surprised. The type of people who create a will often leave instructions for their body."


    She pressed her lips together and nodded.


    ¡°Do you mind if we start searching?¡±


    Miranda motioned to the shelves.


    ¡°Mr. Aubert?¡± the count said.


    Joel stepped forward. ¡°He moved things around a lot, so I¡¯m not sure where it is now, but the last time I saw it, it was on this shelf.¡±


    Since we were looking for a scroll, we focused our attention on the clutter taking up the empty space around the books. You¡¯d think that might make the job easier, but Professor Wayde had stuffed so many things on his shelves, we had to move most of it around to make sure we weren¡¯t missing something. Darius took care to move things without disarranging them. My approach was more like grab, glance, drop it somewhere, and hope it wasn¡¯t organized.


    About five minutes into our search, Miranda let out a quiet noise. It wasn¡¯t a sob or a sigh, but it was something like both. The rest of us looked up from what we were doing.


    Aubert said, ¡°Miranda?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said.


    Darius pushed aside the papers he¡¯d been looking at. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me saying, Miss St. John, you look exhausted.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a rough few days.¡±


    ¡°Have you asked to take a leave of grief?¡±


    Miranda shook her head. ¡°I can manage. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Could you use some coffee or tea? The three of us can do this by ourselves. We won¡¯t take anything unless you know about it.¡±


    Miranda stood up from where she¡¯d been kneeling on the floor. ¡°You know, coffee sounds really good. Would any of you like some?¡±


    ¡°Please.¡±


    St. John left. I waited until I couldn¡¯t hear her footsteps, then I walked over to Darius and whispered, ¡°Why did you want to get rid of her?¡±


    Darius returned to his search. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you suggest coffee?¡±


    ¡°Because it looked like she needed some.¡±


    I went back to the shelves.


    As I was pulling out yet another stack of stuff, I grabbed a roll of what I thought was paper. It felt cold in my hand, and the material had a strange texture.


    ¡°Darius.¡±


    The count left Wayde¡¯s desk and came over to me. Aubert joined us.


    I unrolled part of the scroll. It was covered in dark marks that, rather obviously, I couldn¡¯t read. ¡°Is this it?¡±


    There was a long, silent second, then Darius said, ¡°Mr. Aubert?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re certain? Wayde didn¡¯t have any other Egyptian scrolls?¡±


    The sorcerer shrugged. ¡°I only saw it twice, but I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s it. He never mentioned another scroll.¡±


    Darius said to me, ¡°Bring it over here.¡±


    We walked over to the desk. The count moved aside the things he¡¯d been going through. I put the scroll down. He carefully unrolled the first part and laid out a few small items to keep it flat.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± I repeated.


    Vasil pulled out his phone. ¡°I don¡¯t read Egyptian any better than you do, Emerra.¡±


    He took a photo, tapped his phone a few times, put it back in his pocket, and bent over the desk.


    ¡°Do you know anything about papyrus?¡± Joel asked.


    ¡°Mr. Aubert,¡± Darius said, ¡°would you please go tell Miss St. John that we¡¯ve found the scroll. She doesn¡¯t need to stop what she¡¯s doing, but she should be informed.¡±


    The sorcerer nodded and left.


    When he was gone, Vasil lowered his face until it was only an inch away from the scroll. ¡°I wish Conrad was here.¡±


    ¡°The wolfman?¡± I said. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because his nose is even better than mine. I can smell people on it, but I can¡¯t tell them apart, and I can¡¯t smell the time.¡±


    ¡°He can smell time?¡± I said.


    ¡°Who touched it last, how long they held it for¡ªthat kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°So, it is the scroll.¡± I don¡¯t know why that question was bothering me so much.


    Darius put his hands on the desk and pushed up until he was leaning on them. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be.¡±


    ¡°But¡­why¡ªwhy not?¡±


    ¡°Because the scroll shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We came here to make sure the scroll was gone. I never thought we would actually find it.¡±


    ¡°You had us searching through everything!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s important to be thorough. If I¡¯m going to tell Jacky the scroll wasn¡¯t in the shelves, you had better believe I¡¯m going to make damn sure it isn¡¯t in the shelves. But I had assumed that if the scroll had anything to do with the missing soul, the person who killed him would have taken it with them.¡± He straightened up and folded his arms. ¡°What do you think, Emerra?¡±


    My body jerked. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an expert or anything. Why would you care what I think?¡±


    A wry smile pulled at his cheek. ¡°I¡¯ve told several people otherwise. If we¡¯re going to say I¡¯m consulting you, you¡¯ll have to learn to sound like an expert.¡±


    Sure. Pretend I¡¯m an expert. I could do that. Everyone else did.


    I chewed on my lip as I gazed at the scroll. ¡°Well, it looks fake.¡±


    ¡°Yes. We knew that.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean it looks really fake. Like, it¡¯s not a movie, but a bad movie.¡±


    ¡°This is what you think an expert sounds like?¡±


    ¡°Darius, you know how movies are all pretend, and we know it¡¯s pretend, but we play along, and sometimes, in the middle of good movies, we forget?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I put my finger down on the papyrus. ¡°This is a bad movie. It¡¯s so bad we can¡¯t forget it¡¯s pretend, and we don¡¯t want to pretend anyway.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll grant you your metaphor, but Both said it was a fake. We were expecting that. What matters is if it was copied from a real scroll.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. But the way she talked about it, I thought it would look more real.¡±


    From Darius¡¯s pocket, there came a quiet ding.


    He pulled out his phone and looked at it. ¡°Well, Both says it¡¯s the real fake that we¡¯re looking for.¡±


    He held his phone out so I could see the notification. Below Both¡¯s name were the words ¡°that¡¯s the one.¡±


    He put the phone back in his pocket. ¡°We have to take possession of this scroll.¡±


    ¡°You mean steal it?¡±


    He rolled it up. ¡°That was not something you should say if you want a real badge, Emerra.¡±


    Oops.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to make a few phone calls. Removing something like this from a crime scene is going to involve jumping through some hoops. I¡¯m going outside to get some privacy. It may take me a while. Don¡¯t wander off, and if you get a chance to talk to St. John, do it.¡±


    ¡°What? You mean, like, ask her if we can take it?¡±


    ¡°No! No, don¡¯t do that. That¡¯s my job. Ask her about her life and her uncle. Talk to her like a friend. We need more information about who might have wanted Wayde dead, but she won¡¯t open up to me.¡±


    ¡°You noticed that too?¡±


    ¡°You, on the other hand¡ªyou and your rinky-dink-shrinky shrink¡ªare much more approachable.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± I gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up.


    The scroll stayed on the desk when he left.


    I tried to put the bookshelf back together by shoving everything where it looked like it might fit. It was something to do, and it kept my mind off how skittish I felt being in the room alone.


    Aubert came back as I was finishing.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Agent Vasil?¡± he asked.


    ¡°He went to make a few phone calls,¡± I said.


    ¡°Was that the front door I heard?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Miranda probably doesn¡¯t know about¡­stuff.¡± I thought that was enigmatic enough to get my point across.


    Aubert dropped his head in a quick nod. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± he muttered. ¡°She doesn¡¯t.¡±


    Miranda appeared in the doorway. ¡°The coffee¡¯s ready.¡±


    We both turned. She was peering around the room.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Agent Vasil?¡± she asked.


    ¡°He went outside to make a few calls,¡± Aubert explained.


    When I saw Miranda¡¯s face go slack, I rushed to assure her: ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Nothing¡¯s wrong. I think he¡¯s hoping we can take the scroll with us, so he had to call in to figure out what happens next. ¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She relaxed. Slightly. ¡°Would you two like some coffee then?¡±


    She was offering me a chance to get out of this room and an excuse to chat?


    ¡°We would love some,¡± I said.


    I took Aubert by the arm and dragged him toward the door with me.

 Chapter 18 - Coffee in the Kitchen

    The kitchen was much neater than the study, but it still had some decorative clutter, including a few objects that looked like artifacts. Wayde probably couldn¡¯t help himself.


    A French press pitcher of coffee was sitting on the kitchen island with four mugs. There was also sugar and some half and half. When I sat down on my stool, I immediately started adding sugar to my empty mug.


    Aubert walked around me and sat down on the next stool.


    Miranda smiled as she went to the other side of the island. ¡°Would you like some coffee with your sugar, Emerra?¡±


    ¡°In a second.¡± I dumped in another spoonful. ¡°Okay. Ready when you are.¡±


    She poured. ¡°Joel?¡±


    ¡°Please. And thank you, Miranda.¡±


    When he said her name, that faint pink color rose in her cheeks again. My eyes went from her to Aubert, to see if he noticed. He seemed oblivious.


    I¡¯ve always been a sucker for romance, so my first instinct was to try to get them to talk to each other. But I had an assignment from Darius, and it didn¡¯t include acting as an amateur matchmaker.


    I finished swallowing my first sip of coffee and put the mug back on the counter. ¡°French press coffee is pretty fancy.¡±


    Aubert chuckled. ¡°Forgive me, but you don¡¯t really strike me as a coffee connoisseur.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true. But I hear it¡¯s fancy¡ªyou know, from other people.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be. If you make it right,¡± Miranda said. She had only added some half and half.


    ¡°This is good,¡± Aubert insisted.


    ¡°You mean I¡¯ve gotten better.¡±


    Aubert ducked his head to try to hide his smile. ¡°Well, yes.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, ¡°you¡¯ve made coffee for him before?¡±


    Bad, Emerra. You¡¯re supposed to be a detective. Not a matchmaker. Focus.


    ¡°Once,¡± Miranda said. ¡°It was pretty awful. I¡¯m glad you were willing to give me another chance.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t usually turn down coffee,¡± Aubert said.


    ¡°How very discerning of you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, no.¡± He shook his finger. ¡°Someone who drinks coffee all the time is going to know more than the person who drinks it occasionally. And I drink it black, so my opinion should count double.¡±


    ¡°And you think it¡¯s good?¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s very good.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t tell for sure, but I thought there was something in the way he looked at her¡ªthe slight arch of his smile, and the crinkles around his eyes. And, if Miranda¡¯s smile was anything to go by, she seemed to like it.


    And so life goes on, even in the middle of death.


    It was an oddly cheerful thought.


    ¡°But that was your uncle¡¯s press, right?¡± I asked.


    Miranda¡¯s face fell, and the light in her eyes went out.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Uncle Trev was picky with his coffee. He¡¯s the one who taught me how to make it this way. He¡¯d drink it no matter what, but I could tell how well I¡¯d done by all the dumb faces he¡¯d make.¡± She lowered her voice to imitate her uncle. ¡°¡®No, no! It¡¯s fine!¡¯¡± Then she twisted up her face like a dog trying to dislodge peanut butter from the roof of its mouth.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t he make it?¡± Aubert asked. To me, he said, ¡°Now that man could make a cup of coffee. Even you could have drunk it black.¡±


    I didn¡¯t bother correcting him. A man who believed that kind of nonsense probably wouldn¡¯t listen to reason.


    Miranda said, ¡°He said I had to learn¡ªthat he wouldn¡¯t always be around to do it for me.¡± She shivered. ¡°It seems ominous now.¡±


    A strained silence fell.


    I was the one who broke it: ¡°You liked your uncle, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°He was a character. I wish I could have known him longer.¡±


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    ¡°But he was your uncle,¡± Aubert said. ¡°Didn¡¯t you already know him?¡±


    Miranda glanced at Joel Aubert, the man I was ninety-percent sure she had a crush on, and at me, the genius that used such technical phrases as ¡°rinky-dink-shrinky-shrink.¡± Whatever she saw in us, she didn¡¯t seem to find it threatening.


    She lowered her eyes to her coffee. ¡°My mother hated Uncle Trev. She¡¯s¡­got some mental issues.¡±


    I decided to put all my technical vocabulary to work. ¡°Are we talking full-on crazy or a more normal crazy?¡±


    ¡°I think she has some serious issues, but I grew up with her, so I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m the right person to say.¡±


    ¡°And she didn¡¯t like Wayde?¡± Aubert asked.


    ¡°She and Uncle Trev had a difficult upbringing. My grandfather was strict, and he tended to use a belt to enforce the rules. But Uncle Trev got over it. He made it a point to get over it.¡± Miranda shrugged. ¡°My mom never did. She preferred to live as a permanent victim. When I was young, Uncle Trev tried to talk her into going to therapy.¡±


    Miranda¡¯s voice trailed off.


    ¡°I take it she didn¡¯t like that?¡± I prompted.


    ¡°She was furious. I think she thought he was implying that there was something wrong with her.¡±


    ¡°There was! It¡¯s called trauma.¡±


    ¡°I know, but she thought he was saying that she needed to be fixed rather than healed. She cut all ties with him. He¡¯d try to contact her, but¡­¡± Miranda shook her head. ¡°Once Mom decides she knows the story, she doesn¡¯t listen to anyone else.¡±


    ¡°And then your uncle sent you a letter?¡±


    Miranda nodded.


    ¡°Your Mom didn¡¯t know about that, did she?¡±


    ¡°No, she didn¡¯t. She wanted me to go to a college near our home so I could stay with her.¡±


    ¡°But you said you knew you wanted to go away for college.¡±


    Miranda forced a smile. ¡°You see the problem. Uncle Trev¡¯s letter was a god-send. And when I got here, he was so excited. I think he missed having a family.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re it? You¡¯re his family?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t have a girlfriend or anything?¡±


    ¡°I think he might have, but I never met her. And that isn¡¯t the same as family anyway.¡±


    My stomach dropped a fathom. I shut my mouth and looked away. When it came to the question of family, I¡¯d have to take her word for it.


    ¡°What did your mother think of you coming here?¡± Aubert asked.


    Miranda drank some coffee before she answered. ¡°She¡¯s disowned me.¡±


    ¡°Disowned you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. She won¡¯t talk to me, she won¡¯t see me¡ªall of that. She says that I¡¯ve betrayed her. She wouldn¡¯t even answer the phone when I called her about Uncle Trev¡¯s death.¡±


    ¡°Miranda,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    She tried to smile again and failed. ¡°I¡¯ll be all right. Since I¡¯d already decided to leave, something like this was bound to happen. Honestly, I felt worse for Uncle Trev. He didn¡¯t see it coming, so he felt like it was all his fault.¡±


    There was a noise from the direction of the study. We all glanced at each other to confirm someone else had heard it.


    ¡°Is Agent Vasil back?¡± Miranda asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear the front door,¡± Aubert said.


    I put down my mug. ¡°Something probably fell out of a bookshelf. There was a lot to cram in there.¡±


    ¡°It sounded louder than that,¡± Miranda said.


    I thought about my careless Tetris act and admitted, ¡°It might have been a whole shelf.¡± I slid off my stool. ¡°If I broke anything, you¡¯re getting a full bow of apology. I¡¯ll get on my knees and everything.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Half the stuff in there is junk. If something¡¯s broken, we can call in Professor Frost and play another round of ¡®is it real or is it fake.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Sounds fun,¡± I said as I headed to the door.


    As I was heading over to the study, I mentally practiced my abject apology, but rehearsal was cut short as I got closer to the room. I could hear too many sounds coming from there, and I was certain I hadn¡¯t done that bad of a stacking job.


    I turned into the doorway. There was someone in the study, and it wasn¡¯t Darius.


    It took me less than a second to take in the hoodie with its hood up, the medical face mask, the sunglasses, and the gloves. The person was standing by a bookshelf, and there was something in his hand¡ªassuming it was his hand, and not her hand. One glance at the empty desk confirmed it. He had the scroll.


    He turned and ran to the open window.


    ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t.¡±


    I took off after him.


    He had a head start, but I was smaller than he was, so I could fit through the window a lot easier. I was only a few feet behind him as we sprinted across the backyard. The gate to the front was open. As the intruder passed through it, he slammed it shut behind him. It cost me two seconds to work the latch and speed after him.


    When we reached the steep, grassy slope that led to the sidewalk, I lunged for his jacket, closed my fist around a handful of material, and yanked. His feet skidded on the wet lawn, and we both went sprawling. Our combined tumble tore up almost a square yard of grass. Mud was slathered all the way up to my chest, but that was not my main concern. The edge of a paving stone had torn through my jeans and put a huge gash in my leg.


    I¡¯m proud to say, through it all, I didn¡¯t let go of his jacket.


    I felt him tugging against my grip as I lay there. He managed to rip free by rolling away. I threw myself after him, but I didn¡¯t have time to get to my feet, so it was more like a violent scooting motion that tore up some more grass. I slapped at him, trying to get another hold. He flipped to his side, and before I could react, he kicked me in the stomach.


    Agony.


    The air in my body was gone, but I couldn¡¯t take a breath. The pain sat there, glowing, while the desire to vomit grew until my body rang with it. It felt like a minute passed in this dreadful stasis before I was able to draw in my first shuddering lungful of air.


    Then I retched, and retched, and retched.


    Coughing, retching, and trying to breathe¡ªthat was my whole world for close to an actual minute. By the time I staggered to my feet, the thief had completely disappeared.


    I wove my way back to the front porch like a drunkard, then dropped myself on the top step.


    I heard the front door open behind me.


    ¡°Emerra!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Miranda. Sorry about the lawn.¡±


    ¡°Nevermind the lawn! What happened?¡±


    ¡°Do you have a first-aid kit? And some water? I don¡¯t think I should come inside though.¡± I pulled open the eight inch hole in the leg of my jeans to look at the oozy, red wound. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m still bleeding.¡±


    I sniffed and picked at my mud-coated sweater. No wonder I¡¯m cold.


    I scooted the sleeve around, but I didn¡¯t see any holes. Could you scrape your elbow through your clothes? It felt like you could.


    Miranda said, ¡°I¡¯ll get some hot water and look for a first-aid kit.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    I was trying to roll up my pant leg without grinding more dirt into the gash, when Count Vasil returned. He was walking up the sidewalk toward the house, but he stopped at the bottom of the front walk to stare at the new mud slick. Then he raised his head, took off his sunglasses, and stared at the bloody, muddy mess that was me.


    ¡°Hey, Darius.¡± I raised my hand in greeting. ¡°Any good news?¡±

 Chapter 19 - After the Robbery

    We didn¡¯t get out of there until almost five. Apparently, when you witness a burglar stealing a scroll that¡¯s wanted by an FBI agent from the house of a recently murdered man, you have to give an official statement.


    Even after that, I couldn¡¯t leave. My ride was involved in all the official police stuff, as well as any official FBI stuff, and any unofficial Torr stuff. They installed me in a chair over the entryway tile since it¡¯d be easier to clean than the carpet. The gash in my leg wasn¡¯t deep. Once it was bandaged, it had stopped bleeding, but I kept shedding globs of mud when I moved.


    Moran was going over the details of my story with me, to see if I could remember anything else¡ªespecially what the burglar looked like. When I describe the mask, sunglasses, and hoodie, he grimaced, just like Darius had, so I guessed it wasn¡¯t all that useful.


    ¡°Was he fit?¡±


    ¡°How fit could he be? I caught him.¡±


    ¡°I mean was he fat?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure he was standing by the last shelf?¡±


    ¡°I told you, he was standing between the last shelf and the desk.¡±


    ¡°Which way was he facing?¡±


    ¡°He was facing me. Then he was facing the window and retreating rapidly.¡± I rubbed my eyes with one hand.


    Moran, bless him, put a hand on my arm. ¡°Do you want a coffee or something?¡±


    Oh, I did. I surely did. But I resisted the temptation and shook my head.


    ¡°You sure?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I want to sleep tonight.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fair. We¡¯re almost done here. You should be able to head home soon.¡±


    One of the forensic team came up behind him. ¡°We¡¯ve finished going over the window and the crowbar.¡±


    The detective stood up. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there.¡±


    The forensic guy nodded and walked away.


    ¡°Hey, Moran,¡± I said.


    He looked down at me.


    ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Nah. You didn¡¯t do too bad. Good would have been if you¡¯d caught the guy. But you didn¡¯t do bad.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    He wandered off.


    I was left to contemplate the pale crinkles that appeared in the mud coating my hand whenever I bent my knuckles.


    Darius came up to me. ¡°Are you ready to go?¡±


    I used the arms of my chair to lift myself to my feet. I tried to do it quickly and without wincing.


    We walked all the way to the SUV in silence. We rode for the first twenty minutes in silence. Then I couldn¡¯t keep my mouth shut any longer.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I left the study.¡±


    ¡°It was a mistake. We¡¯ll deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Did he steal anything else?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Darius, I get the feeling that you¡¯re mad at me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m upset. You deliberately and needlessly put yourself in danger¡ª¡±


    ¡°He was stealing the scroll!¡±


    ¡°Exactly! He was stealing the scroll, and we¡¯re dealing with a murder case. Think about that! That means that at least one person involved in this case is willing to kill, and you went charging after him without a second thought.¡±


    ¡°What was I supposed to do? Let him go?¡±


    ¡°You were supposed to call me!¡±


    All brain function slammed to a halt. Call¡­in¡­Darius? The guy who moved so fast, I couldn¡¯t always see him? That might have been a good idea.


    Fortunately, I had an excuse for my thoughtlessness. ¡°You weren¡¯t in the house.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a goddamn vampire, Emerra. I would have heard you.¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°You would have heard me?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°Even though you were down the street?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and his scowl softened. ¡°From now on, if there¡¯s a problem, I want you to call me. Yell for me, as loud as you can, even if you think I won¡¯t hear you. If you know I can¡¯t hear you, you pick up your phone and you call me! There¡¯s no reason for you to put yourself in danger like that again.¡±


    After a few seconds, I muttered, ¡°I don¡¯t have a phone.¡±


    Darius hit his breaks, threw on his blinker, and turned the car around.


    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± he hissed.


    For a rather stupid moment, I wondered if he was taking me back to my gravesite. Then I realized he¡¯d probably need more people if he was planning to re-inter me.


    Still, it never hurt to make sure.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re getting you a phone. If it¡¯s left to Jacky, it¡¯ll be months.¡±


    A phone!


    I swallowed back my excitement. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that.¡±


    ¡°As long as you live with us, you¡¯re going to need a way to contact us.¡±


    ¡°But phones are expensive, and I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯m going to stay.¡±


    The count didn¡¯t change directions, but he did slow down.


    ¡°Are you thinking of leaving?¡± he asked.


    My mouth gaped open and closed a few times, but silly Emerra-fish did not have an answer.


    ¡°Emerra?¡±


    ¡°I¡­don¡¯t. That¡¯s not¡­how that works,¡± I stammered.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean that¡¯s not how that works!¡±


    Like anyone cared what I thought. Like I ever got to choose where I stayed. Why didn¡¯t he get it?


    ¡°Look!¡± I said, ¡°A phone is really expensive, and you don¡¯t know how long I¡¯m going to be around. It¡¯s not reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to keep helping us on this case?¡±


    I glanced at him. Did he even still want my help? ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯re getting you a phone. That is nonnegotiable. If you decide to leave the mansion¡­¡± He hesitated, then said, ¡°We can deal with that then.¡±


    I nodded. Okay. A loan. I was getting a loaner phone. That was something I could live with.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I hoped I could get it in rose gold.


    I got my rose gold phone.


    Count Vasil had threatened to buy me the most expensive phone in the store if I didn¡¯t pick one I actually wanted. When I pointed out how cheap the flip-phones were, he told me the phone was meant to be a tool, not a nostalgic joke. We wound up compromising on a nice model, and I promised myself I wouldn¡¯t look at the price tag.


    Noctis probably wouldn¡¯t even notice it hit his bank account.


    Before the sales lady handed the phone over to me, she asked if I wanted to borrow the employee¡¯s restroom to wash the mud off my hands. Five stars for thoughtfulness.


    I played with my new toy the whole drive home. It helped me to ignore the lingering wisps of guilt.


    Darius wouldn¡¯t let me see his phone¡ªsomething about security¡ªbut he recited his phone number so I could add it to my contacts. He also recited Mrs. Park¡¯s, Iset¡¯s, and Jacky¡¯s phone numbers.


    Jacky¡¯s made sense, but I was curious why he was so insistent on me putting in Iset¡¯s.


    ¡°She¡¯s the brains of the operation, remember? You call her when you have a question.¡±


    ¡°Ooo! That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need Conrad¡¯s number,¡± he said.


    ¡°The wolfman has a phone?¡±


    Darius¡¯s tone did a good job conveying his confusion: ¡°Yes.¡±


    Of course the wolfman had a phone. Everyone had a phone these days.


    I said, ¡°How does it work with his¡­you know¡­paws?¡±


    ¡°It works just fine with his hands.¡±


    ¡°Did that sound rude?¡±


    ¡°A little.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but why would I need his number?¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m ever out of town and you need help, you call him. Conrad Bauer. B-a-u-e-r.¡±


    I obediently, if reluctantly, started creating a new contact. As I typed, I said, ¡°If I¡¯m in trouble, would he even be able to help? It¡¯s not like he goes out in public much.¡±


    Darius thought about that for a minute.


    He moved his hand away from his face to say, ¡°It¡¯s true Conrad generally has to stay hidden, but that wouldn¡¯t stop him from helping someone if they needed it.¡±


    ¡°So he¡¯s your back-up muscle?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a lycanthrope. I¡¯m the backup muscle. He¡¯s the real muscle.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t I just call Jacky?¡±


    Darius sighed. ¡°Jack Noctis isn¡¯t all that good at answering his phone.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t call death? Death only calls for you?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t call death, he leaves his phone on silent half the time.¡±


    ¡°Do you think someone told Apple I was dead?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. Why?¡±


    ¡°If I can sign into my old account, I can get all my music back.¡±


    I was busy trying to remember my password, so it took me a second to realize that Darius had fallen suspiciously silent.


    ¡°Something on your mind, Count?¡±


    He turned up the road toward the mansion. ¡°Emerra, is there anyone from your old life that you¡¯d want to contact?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°If you start using your old accounts, will someone notice?¡±


    ¡°Pfff. Not likely. I got the account when I was under thirteen¡ª¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhhhh. I borrowed a different birth year? Anyway, all I bought was music, and I only used gift cards, so the only person that¡¯s going to get an email is me.¡±


    ¡°And how old does your email think you are?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to tell me you don¡¯t lie about your age?¡±


    ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± He glanced at me. ¡°What about people you might want to contact?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Not really.¡±


    Careless voice. Nose pointed at phone. Could he take the hint?


    He turned his eyes back to the road.


    It seemed he could. Either that, or he was the kind to naturally mind his own business.


    What a good vampire.


    When we got to the house, I tried to go in through the kitchen¡¯s dining nook, but my attempt was thwarted.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Igor roared.


    I halted with my first boot hovering over the floor.


    ¡°If you take one step in this kitchen with those filthy shoes, I¡¯ll rip your feet off your body and send them through the wash.¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± I looked to Darius for help.


    The count opened the other half of the French doors and waltzed in like the mansion wasn¡¯t guarded by a rabid, half-mad chef.


    ¡°Good evening, Igor.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Vasil.¡±


    ¡°Um!¡± I said louder.


    ¡°What¡¯s for dinner?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I thought some sweet southern cornbread and chili would go well with the weather,¡± Igor said.


    ¡°You mean the cold weather?¡± I said. ¡°The freezing autumn weather I¡¯m still standing in?¡±


    Either Darius didn¡¯t hear me¡ªunlikely, since he had that whole ¡°vampire hearing thing¡± going on¡ªor he chose not to respond. ¡°That sounds delightful.¡±


    ¡°So, what? I just wait out here?¡± I asked.


    One of Igor¡¯s eyes revolved until it was gazing in my direction. It took so long, I wondered if it¡¯s roving was random.


    ¡°Why not? You seem to like the outdoors, seeing as you¡¯ve covered yourself in it.¡±


    ¡°Igor, I didn¡¯t mean to get all muddy!¡±


    ¡°If cleanliness is next to godliness, then you¡¯re an abomination.¡±


    I threw my hands up. Sure! Why not! I was an abomination. At least I had a phone to keep myself entertained with.


    Olivia came in the room. ¡°What¡¯s all the yelling¡ª¡±


    She froze when she saw me.


    It suddenly felt a lot colder.


    ¡°What¡­did¡­you do¡­to my clothes?¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Olivia.¡±


    ¡°Is that a tear? Did you rip my jeans?¡±


    ¡°It was an accident. I promise I¡¯ll clean them up.¡±


    ¡°Clean them up? Look at them! You might as well throw them away! What did you think you were doing?¡±


    ¡°I was chasing someone!¡±


    Her eyes narrowed.


    I went on, ¡°Someone was stealing the scroll, and I chased after them.¡±


    ¡°Did you stop them?¡±


    There was a short silence.


    ¡°No,¡± I muttered. ¡°They got away.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Glad to know it was worth it.¡± She turned and left.


    There was a longer silence this time. I can¡¯t tell you what Darius or Igor were doing. I was staring at the mud on my¡ªOlivia¡¯s boots and trying not to cry.


    ¡°Go in through the wash room,¡± Igor said. ¡°Take off any clothes you can and try to brush off as much mud as possible. After you¡¯ve changed into something else, go back through the house and clean up. Neither Mrs. Park nor I need any extra work.¡±


    I shut the door. There was a small bench next to me, so I sat down and stared up at the stars. I only got up when the shivering was bad enough it made my muscles ache.


    I found the laundry room on my second try and followed Igor¡¯s directions the best I could. When I was done, I went back to the laundry room with my pile of dirty clothes. Thankfully, there was a modern washing machine and dryer tucked away in the side room. I wouldn¡¯t have to scrub out the mud using the antique porcelain basin.


    Once the laundry was started, I wandered to the kitchen door and stood there until one of Igor¡¯s eyes drifted my direction. I motioned to myself, presenting the outfit for inspection.


    ¡°You may come in,¡± he said.


    I sat down at one of the tall stools near the kitchen island.


    ¡°Did you put everything away?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes, Igor. Vacuum, broom, Swiffer. The rags are being washed with my clothes.¡±


    ¡°You missed dinner.¡±


    So I had. I didn¡¯t care. I wasn¡¯t hungry. But I wasn¡¯t sure how Igor would like that line, so I shrugged.


    ¡°You should eat.¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°I took the liberty of slathering your cornbread with honey butter¡ªroughly in proportion to the gross amounts of sugar I¡¯ve seen you put in your coffee.¡±


    Wow. That would require a lot of honey butter.


    A smile crept over my face. ¡°Let me see.¡±


    He pulled the plate from the oven and put it in front of me.


    I laughed. ¡°You should have put it in a bowl! That cornbread is swimming.¡±


    He passed me a fork. ¡°You know you won¡¯t be able to taste anything but the sugar.¡±


    ¡°You make that sound like a bad thing.¡± I dug into the first gooey bite.


    Igor threw the dish towel over his hunched shoulder and leaned back on the counter. ¡°How did you know where the cleaning supplies were?¡±


    I finished chewing before I answered. He might have been right about me being an abomination, but I didn¡¯t have to give him any more proof. ¡°It¡¯s always somewhere near the laundry room. At least the wet-stuff. I was lucky the vacuum was stored with it.¡± I hurried to add, ¡°If I hadn¡¯t found it, I would have come and asked¡ª¡±


    He waved away my concern. ¡°But you did find it. Without asking for help.¡±


    I had already taken my next bite, so I was spared the need to answer.


    He shifted the towel to his other shoulder and went back to doing the dishes.


    A few minutes later, all that was left on my plate was an empty lake of honey butter.


    ¡°Thank you for the food, Igor. It was really good.¡±


    ¡°Humph. Are you going to claim you could taste it?¡±


    ¡°Best pile of sugar I¡¯ve ever had.¡±


    He rolled the eye that was closest to me.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, ¡°are there any sewing supplies in the house?¡±


    ¡°Are you planning on sewing up those jeans you tore?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Olivia won¡¯t thank you.¡±


    I played with the rim of my plate. ¡°Yeah, well, at this point it doesn¡¯t really matter if she likes it. I¡¯m going to need a change of pants.¡±


    After a second, Igor said, ¡°Sewing isn¡¯t my domain. I don¡¯t know if anyone sews anymore.¡±


    ¡°I know how to sew.¡±


    ¡°By hand?¡±


    I squirmed. ¡°That¡¯s the only way I know how to sew.¡±


    ¡°Talk to Iset. She¡¯d know if we¡¯re storing any supplies in the house. She¡¯s probably¡ª¡±


    ¡°In the library?¡± I said, standing up.


    ¡°With Olivia,¡± Igor finished.


    That slowed me down.


    He added, ¡°They¡¯re usually doing magic lessons around this time.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that Iset was a witch,¡± I said carefully.


    ¡°She isn¡¯t. She¡¯s a scholar.¡±


    As I dawdled toward the library, I tried to decide if I was willing to ask for sewing supplies in front of Olivia. If all she did was fail to thank me, I would consider myself lucky. She had been pissed.


    The best option I could come up with was to sneak up to the library and listen to see if Olivia was in there. If she was, I could make myself scarce and try again later.


    I slunk down the hall and pressed my back to the wall, next to one of the arches.


    Just my luck, the witch was there.


    I heard her voice: ¡°If she¡¯s going to go, then she should just go. Why is she hanging around if she doesn¡¯t want to be here?¡±


    Going? I thought. Who¡¯s going?


    Iset said, ¡°What makes you think she doesn¡¯t want to be here?¡±


    ¡°Darius said she was thinking of leaving.¡±


    ¡°Darius said she might be thinking of leaving,¡± Iset said, ¡°and he was talking to me at the time.¡±


    ¡°I was in the room. I wasn¡¯t eavesdropping.¡±


    My stomach torqued itself into a knot. Oh, geez. They were talking about me. The abomination that was currently eavesdropping.


    ¡°Whether she leaves or not is entirely up to her,¡± Iset said, ¡°but she¡¯s here as an honored guest¡ª¡±


    ¡°Honored? What has she done that deserves any honor?¡±


    Okay. I kind of agreed with Olivia on that one, even if I didn¡¯t like the scorn in her voice.


    ¡°If you can¡¯t be kind to her, you need to at least be civil.¡±


    ¡°I have been civil.¡±


    Debatable. But I did ruin her jeans.


    I heard Iset sigh. ¡°Olivia, let¡¯s say, for the sake of argument, that you decide you hate Emerra enough you¡¯re going to leave. You kick yourself out of this house. Where would you go?¡±


    There was a pause.


    ¡°Back to your parents, maybe?¡± Iset prompted. ¡°Ah, but you don¡¯t like that idea. What about your grandmother? Or your sister? Would they take you?¡±


    ¡°Of course they would,¡± Olivia snapped.


    ¡°And maybe one of the seven other witches that asked you to be their apprentice? Do you think one of them might make room for you? Oh, well. If they¡¯ve already chosen other candidates, I¡¯ll bet it wouldn¡¯t take long to find another half dozen that would give up their cauldrons to have you.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying I should leave and go somewhere else?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. This was only for the sake of argument, remember? But what if Jacky listened to all your complaining and decided to kick Emerra out¡ªwhere would she go?¡±


    After waiting for an answer that never came, Iset went on, ¡°I know you resent having her here, but perhaps someone with your advantages could spare a little compassion and not hope to rob someone else of everything they have.¡± There was a tapping noise. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the third circle.¡±


    I didn¡¯t hear anything after that. I ran.

 Chapter 20 - Playing with Kappa

    Maybe running away was cowardly of me. I know it was useless. You can¡¯t outrun words you¡¯ve already heard. Still, I crept back down the hall until I knew they wouldn¡¯t hear me, and I ran.


    I had suspected that Olivia didn¡¯t like me, and if I was honest, I didn¡¯t like her much either, but it hadn¡¯t occurred to me that she hated me enough to want me gone. And why should they keep me? Because I had nowhere else to go. I was once again a tolerated object of pity. My whole life, people made room for me, even though they didn¡¯t want me, because I had nowhere else to go. And now, my whole death was the same way.


    You can¡¯t run away from a stomachache either.


    And Iset was right¡ªI didn¡¯t even have somewhere else I could run to! I crossed the whole mansion, trying to find some awful corner where no one would go. It was darker and colder away from the main rooms, so I went that way.


    I dodged past the kitchen, where Igor was busy putting away the last of the dishes, and found a dank corner near the washroom. The only light came from the moon shining through a door that led to the outside. A mean breeze whistled through the door frame. It was a picture of misery that perfectly fit my mood.


    I crashed to the floor, pulled my knees up to my chest, and leaned into the corner. Then I let myself cry.


    I don¡¯t like crying¡ªI¡¯m a tough girl, darn it!¡ªbut life had taught me that sometimes you have to cry when you¡¯re alone or you run the horrible risk of crying in public. Pick your evil. With one, you feel stupid. With the other, you feel extra stupid and make everyone around you feel awkward.


    Life had also taught me to sob quietly.


    But not quietly enough.


    About three minutes into my pity party, I heard a little voice call out from the open door of the washroom.


    ¡°Mera-mera?¡±


    I looked up. Kappa was staring at me with the massive orbs that were his eyes. His webbed feet made soft padding sounds as he came up to me.


    ¡°Eee-mare-ah! Are you sad?¡±


    I wiped my nose on my sleeve. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m sad.¡±


    He reached out and put a clammy hand on my cheek. ¡°Water.¡± He licked his palm. ¡°Salty.¡±


    ¡°Yup. I leak oceans when I¡¯m sad, little guy.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    He turned and left.


    Yup. That¡¯s about right, I thought with a sinking stomach.


    But that wasn¡¯t fair, and I knew it. I couldn¡¯t apply the same expectation to Kappa that I could to a human.


    Expectation? Hope?


    Whatever it was, I knew I shouldn¡¯t feel disappointed. If a human didn¡¯t know how to react, why would someone like Kappa?


    A minute later, he was back, cradling several objects in his arms. With his usual lack of grace, he pushed and pulled my limbs around until he could sit in my lap with his back to my chest. Once he was settled, he put something in my hand.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I asked with a sniffle.


    ¡°A rock.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can feel that.¡±


    It was about the size of an orange. It had a rough texture but a nice round shape.


    ¡°Pretty rock.¡± He took that rock out of my hand and replaced it with another. It was smaller and smoother. ¡°Color-FUL!¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Very colorful.¡±


    I wondered if he could see in the dark and if he knew that I couldn¡¯t. All I could make out were a few different shades of gray.


    He took that one away. The next rock was bigger. ¡°My favorite.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nice,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Rocks make me happy,¡± he said.


    Oh.


    Oh.


    And I thought the honey butter had been sweet. If Kappa hadn¡¯t been a bog-creature, I¡¯d have kissed his head. As it was, I squeezed him until he made an oof sound.


    ¡°More rocks?¡± he asked when I left off the embrace.


    ¡°Kappa makes me happy.¡±


    He got out of my lap and turned to face me. ¡°Happy now?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He hit the ground twice with both webbed hands. Slap, slap. ¡°Play now?¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Sure. What do you want to play?¡±


    ¡°Hide-and-seek!¡±


    ¡°Of course you do. No water!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Kappa,¡± I said warningly.


    ¡°No going under water. Stay in the house.¡± He gathered up his rocks. ¡°Ready, go?¡±


    I put my hands over my eyes. ¡°Ready, go.¡±


    I heard him pad away as I started counting.


    Kappa was the kindest soul in the world, and it would be criminal if I didn¡¯t feel at least a little bit better after he went through all that trouble to bring me his collection, but even a gesture like that could only dilute the pain. It was like adding sugar to lemonade. It made it sweeter, but it was still sour.


    Maybe a bit of play would help me get my mind out of the rut.


    After all, someone wanted me. If I was gone, who would play hide-and-seek with Kappa?


    That thought was a little too bitter. I put it from my mind.


    When my counting reached a hundred, I called out my standard warning, then got to my feet. My ears strained, listening for any hint of sound. Especially giggling.


    Ten minutes later, I was searching through all the cupboards and shelves in the butler¡¯s pantry. As my frustration level rose, all the emotions I was repressing rose with it. I slapped the last two cupboard doors shut and sat back against the island with a grunt.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    My heart ricocheted around my rib cage like a rogue bouncy ball. When it settled down, I looked up at the colossal figure standing in the door.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry.¡± I stood up. ¡°Am I not supposed to be here?¡±


    The wolfman stepped into the pantry. ¡°That¡¯s not what I said. I asked what you were doing.¡±


    I tried to ignore the menace that pressed in as he approached. I flipped my hand out to motion to the room. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Kappa.¡±


    ¡°Is he lost?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re playing hide-and-seek. I thought I heard a noise from in here, but I can¡¯t find him.¡±


    As Conrad turned his head to glance around the room, I noticed the edge of his black lips were lifted. He took a step closer to me. ¡°You taught him to play hide-and-seek?¡±


    Was he laughing at me?


    ¡°He likes it!¡± Maybe I sounded a bit defensive. I added in a grumble, ¡°God knows, he¡¯s gotten good at it.¡±


    Conrad took another step closer. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to step back or wince when he leaned over, but there was nothing I could do about my trembling.


    His muzzle¡ªhis fangs¡ªwere right by my ear when he muttered under his breath, ¡°He¡¯s under the rug.¡±


    The sense of doom waned as the wolfman turned and left the room.


    After one or two breaths, my head cleared enough for me to understand what he¡¯d said. I looked down. Under my feet was an ornate fuchsia rug. I picked up a corner and flipped it back.


    There was a trap door.


    ¡°How did you do that, you little beast?¡±


    I grabbed the sunken ring and lifted. Kappa was sitting at the bottom of the tight spiral stairs with both webbed hands clapped over his mouth. His eyes widened when he saw me.


    ¡°Found you,¡± I said.


    ¡°Eep!¡±


    I jumped down the stairs. ¡°Ha! Eep is right!¡± I picked him up and squeezed him to my chest. Then I looked around. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    ¡°No water. All wine.¡±


    As my eyes adjusted, I could see what he meant. The room had a low ceiling, but the long walls faded off into the darkness. Along both walls were a series of tall shelves. Each shelf was full of bottles.


    ¡°It¡¯s a wine cellar,¡± I said.


    ¡°No water.¡±


    ¡°How big is it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Shall we go exploring?¡±


    Kappa didn¡¯t bother hiding his contempt. ¡°It¡¯s wine.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll find some rocks.¡± I pulled out my cell phone and switched on the light.


    Kappa reached up and took my hand.


    We set off together. It wasn¡¯t long before the shelves of wine ended, but the room¡ªthe tunnel¡ªwent on. We passed several doors. They were five feet tall and made of heavy wood fixed tightly into the thick stone walls. Each one had an iron handle with a latch. Most of the latches wouldn¡¯t budge. The one time I could press one down, a sudden flash of nerves kept me from opening the door.


    I knew I was probably being ridiculous, but I let the handle go and stepped away. I could always come back later. With a better flashlight. And maybe a handy vampire.


    Eventually, we came to a place where a side hall broke away.


    ¡°All right, little guy,¡± I said to Kappa, ¡°Do we keep going straight? Or do we turn?¡±


    Kappa didn¡¯t answer.


    I looked down. He was still holding my hand, but his grip had weakened, and his whole body was slumped over.


    ¡°Kappa?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m cold.¡±


    It had been chilly where we entered. Out this far, the cold was strong enough to bite through my clothes.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s getting nippy. Do you want to head back?¡±


    There was another long pause before Kappa repeated, ¡°I¡¯m cold.¡±


    ¡°Buddy?¡±


    ¡°Can we sleep?¡±


    Was Kappa cold blooded? He certainly seemed to be struggling in the low temperature.


    I squatted down in front of him. ¡°Come on, little guy. Let¡¯s get you back where it¡¯s warm. Grab onto my neck.¡±


    Kappa climbed onto my back. I stood up, hoisted him higher, then started back. I held my phone out as a flashlight and used my other arm to support Kappa¡¯s weight.


    By the time I reached the stairs, his hold on my neck was failing. I sat down so he could dismount, then I turned around and picked him up like he was a big, slimy toddler. He hummed as he curled up against my chest, and he was asleep before I finished crawling out the trap door.


    After I had replaced the door and kicked the rug into place, I tried to figure out what to do. I loved Kappa as much as anyone, but I wasn¡¯t excited about the idea of having him sleep in my bed. My shirt was already soaked from carrying him.


    I sighed, re-hoisted my unconscious friend, and set out for the library in search of Iset.


    As I passed the TV room, I saw the light on and hesitated. My arms were starting to ache, and someone was in there. Maybe I could ask them for help.


    When I edged closer to the door and peeked around the corner, I saw a pair of tall, furry ears.


    I leaned back against the wall.


    It was the wolfman. Of course, it was the wolfman.


    As I stood there, my arms moaning from the effort of holding Kappa, my emotions ran through a quick debate. On one hand, the wolfman was huge, imposing, taciturn, and he had really big teeth. On the other hand¡­he had told me where Kappa was hiding.


    I took a deep breath, swallowed the lump of fear in my throat, and turned into the room. I must have looked like one of those cops you see in the movies, gun drawn, rolling into the room where they know the bad guy is waiting to jump them.


    I don¡¯t know how Conrad knew I was there, but he was already watching the door.


    ¡°C-conrad,¡± I stuttered, ¡°do you know where Kappa¡¯s bed is?¡±


    ¡°Is he asleep?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    The wolfman rose from the couch. He crossed the short distance between us, growing more enormous with every step, then gazed down at the creature nestled against my chest.


    ¡°Cute,¡± he said.


    I blinked once or twice and looked down at Kappa. All curled up like that, he was pretty adorable.


    Conrad tossed his head. ¡°This way.¡±


    We passed the dining room and turned down the hall. Conrad stopped at the door to the washroom. He pointed to one of the antique tables, doomed to forever carry the weight of a heavy porcelain basin.


    ¡°He made his nest under there.¡±


    ¡°A nest?¡±


    ¡°He prefers it. It¡¯s secluded, safe, and has easy access to water.¡± Conrad looked at me. ¡°You¡¯ll know it when you see it.¡±


    The wolfman was right. Under the table was a pile of rags and cloth, torn into strips and woven into something that looked like a dog bed. On the table stretcher behind it, I could see a few shadows, and I recognized Kappa¡¯s precious collection.


    Once I had him tucked in, I picked up one of the rocks and put it beside him. He glommed onto it, pulling it close.


    I thought it was a tad firm to be a teddy bear, but as Ms. Elstein would say, it takes all kinds to make a world.


    I backed out so I wouldn¡¯t knock my head on the table as I stood up.


    Conrad was waiting outside the door, watching me.


    ¡°What?¡± I said. ¡°You don¡¯t like water or something?¡±


    It was a pretty feeble attempt to tease him, but I was willing to try anything, no matter how feeble, to dispel the discomfort that came from seeing his yellow eyes following me.


    The wolfman jammed his hands in his pockets and looked away. ¡°This is Kappa¡¯s territory. I try to stay out of it.¡±


    As we walked back toward the main rooms, my curiosity started nipping at me. Eventually, it was annoying enough to drown out my reverence for all beings large enough to squash me like a bug.


    ¡°Conrad, do you like Kappa?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± The two mountains of his shoulders shifted in a shrug. ¡°I¡¯d be surprised if someone didn¡¯t like Kappa.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Does Darius like him?¡±


    ¡°Darius likes him from a distance. Kappa is very affectionate and very moist.¡±


    ¡°Oh, crap.¡± I looked down at my shirt¡ªthe shirt I had borrowed from Olivia. Who already didn¡¯t like me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s mostly water,¡±


    ¡°Mostly water?¡±


    ¡°You know how human sweat is mostly water with a bit of salt?¡±


    I nodded and tried not to note how easy it was for him to say ¡°human sweat.¡±


    ¡°His is mostly water with a bit of something like sunscreen. It protects his skin. And it washes right out.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Once I knew the fate of the shirt looked promising, my mind turned back to Kappa¡¯s peculiarities. ¡°But he¡¯s always wet.¡±


    Conrad¡¯s muzzle dipped in a nod. ¡°He secretes it whenever he¡¯s out of water. It keeps him from drying up.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like it would take a lot of water.¡±


    ¡°Not as much as you¡¯d think, but we do have to make sure he doesn¡¯t get dehydrated.¡±


    ¡°How do you know all this?¡±


    ¡°Iset.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t quite the answer I was looking for. It was more like I wanted to know why Conrad knew all that, but his answer had been so simple and final, I felt obliged to leave it alone.


    ¡°Conrad,¡± I said after I had dredged up some more courage, ¡°if you don¡¯t mind Kappa, how come you won¡¯t go into his room?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s afraid of me.¡±


    I was surprised by how casually Conrad announced this fact. ¡°Is there a reason why?¡±


    The wolfman stopped and turned. ¡°I suspect it¡¯s because I¡¯m big.¡±


    I had to bite my lip so I wouldn¡¯t let out a nervous giggle. ¡°I hadn¡¯t noticed.¡±


    ¡°Some people find that intimidating.¡±


    ¡°No doubt they¡¯re lower life forms, incapable of higher reasoning.¡±


    A huff of air escaped him. It sounded exactly like a doggy laugh.


    ¡°No doubt.¡± He turned and continued walking.


    I trailed along. ¡°Hey, uh, thank you for your help tonight.¡±


    He buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans again. A second or two later, I heard a quiet growl that might have also been the phrase ¡°you¡¯re welcome.¡±


    By then we had reached the front hall. He left to go back to the TV room. I meandered over to the stairs while keeping my eyes on the wolfman¡¯s retreating back.


    Okay. Shy. Maybe I could see that.


    Any more deep character analysis of my local monsters would have to wait. I needed sleep. I was so tired, not even my insomnia would be able to keep me awake that night.


    I was right. It wasn¡¯t the insomnia. It was the nightmares.


    I kept waking up in a panic, the sound of a gunshot ringing in my ears, but no matter how many times I checked myself in the mirror, there was never any blood.

 Chapter 21 - A Conference Between Darius and Death

    After Darius finished his report, Jacky stood up from his study desk and went over to the window. The vampire stayed seated. Jack Noctis stared out the window whenever he wanted to think. They had worked together long enough, Darius knew most of Jacky¡¯s habits, even if Big Jacky swore he didn¡¯t have any.


    ¡°What did Detective Moran think of the situation?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°He¡¯s almost as confused as we are,¡± Darius said. ¡°Lucky for him, he can reasonably assume the theft has nothing to do with the murder. That¡¯s not something we can do.¡±


    ¡°It makes no sense. If Wayde¡¯s soul is missing because of the scroll, why wasn¡¯t it stolen when he was murdered? If the scroll wasn¡¯t involved, why steal it at all?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot we don¡¯t know, Jacky. Things should become clearer the more we learn.¡±


    Noctis turned to look at Darius. ¡°Are we certain the two incidents are connected?¡±


    ¡°Certain? No. It¡¯s hard to imagine the scroll being there was only a coincidence, but we have to keep an open mind.¡±


    Jacky gazed back at the window. The vampire could see his skull reflected on the pane.


    ¡°The problem with this situation isn¡¯t the abundance of suspects,¡± Jacky noted, ¡°it¡¯s that there are so few of them and none of them make sense. The only thing we can know with reasonable certainty is that magic was involved. How else could the soul go missing?¡±


    ¡°And Aubert is the only magician who¡¯s close to the case,¡± Darius said. ¡°But I can¡¯t imagine he¡¯d have a motive. The scroll would be worthless to him¡ª¡±


    The vampire stopped when he saw Jacky¡¯s long, bony finger swaying back and forth like a metronome.


    ¡°He¡¯s the only known magician,¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°I supposed there¡¯s the torrmen¡ª¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t speaking of the torrmen. Follow the logic, Darius. Magic must have been involved. Is it more likely that Aubert had some motive we can¡¯t guess at, or that there¡¯s a magician involved that we don¡¯t know about? Possibly a thrismage.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. They both seem equally unlikely.¡±


    ¡°And yet we know there are magicians in this world that never find their way into the Torr¡¯s paperwork.¡± Jacky turned. ¡°Did Emerra see anything?¡±


    Darius shook his head.


    ¡°When she saw the body?¡±


    ¡°She said it looked empty.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t a dead body¡­normally¡­look empty? After all, it is empty.¡±


    The vampire shrugged. ¡°I would say they look dead. I wouldn¡¯t normally say they look lonely.¡±


    ¡°Lonely?¡±


    Darius glanced up at Jacky¡¯s unreadable face.


    ¡°Emerra said that?¡±


    Vasil nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting.¡± Jacky, once again, turned to the window.


    Five seconds, Darius thought, then he¡¯ll sit down at his desk and start giving directions¡­three¡­two¡­


    Jacky moved away from the window, pulled out his chair, and sat down at his desk. He leaned forward.


    ¡°We must do something.¡±


    ¡°Jacky, we all want to find out what happened¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, Darius.¡±


    The vampire fell silent.


    ¡°You¡¯re human¡ªor human enough. There are billions of you, all with enough similarities that you can empathize and connect. Your interest in this matter is born from that sympathy. But I¡¯m death. No one shares my nature. No one else can sense the wrongness of it the way I do, like running a rasp down your exposed spine. It drives me to stop it, the way pain drives you to pull your hand away from a hot stove. But far too often, there¡¯s nothing I can do.¡±


    Jacky¡¯s voice had remained level, but there was an intensity behind his words that Vasil rarely heard. The force of it bent around the vampire¡¯s body.


    Noctis went on, ¡°I¡¯ve lost souls before, and I have no doubt more will be lost in the future. In a world as chaotic as ours, it''s inevitable. But this time I have the resources and opportunity to do something about it. Our highest priority is finding out what happened to Wayde''s soul, and preventing it from ever happening again.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    At first, all Darius could do was jerk his head in a stiff nod. Then his tongue loosened. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°The scroll is only important as it relates to that. Did you get a chance to read it before it was taken?¡±


    The vampire gazed at Jacky with a lopsided smile.


    ¡°No. I suppose not,¡± Noctis grumbled. ¡°Did you get any pictures?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already sent a copy of the photo to Iset, but it was only the first part of the scroll. We don¡¯t know how much information it¡¯ll have.¡±


    ¡°Then we need to recover the scroll, if only to learn whether or not it was involved. Is there any way to tell if some other magic might have been used?¡±


    ¡°I was already planning on bringing in a magician to see if they can sense any magic in the house.¡±


    ¡°Which magician?¡±


    ¡°My first choice was Uhler, but he¡¯s out of town for a few days. I¡¯ll bring him in when I can, but I¡¯ve asked Olivia to come with me tomorrow.¡±


    Jacky was still for a moment. Then he nodded. ¡°That should be adequate. As long as Emerra¡¯s there.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any other suggestions?¡±


    ¡°Find the magician. If it isn¡¯t Aubert, find out who it is. If we can¡¯t find the scroll, then we can try to find the person who used it.¡±


    ¡°If it was the scroll that was used.¡±


    ¡°I would also like you to send me a list of all the people connected to the case.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°If any of them die, I intend to be there as soon as possible. When things like this happen, they never happen only once.¡±


    ¡°I understand. Is there anything else, Mr. Noctis?¡±


    ¡°No, but thank you for keeping me informed.¡±


    Darius stood up. He moved toward the door, but then he snapped his fingers and turned back. ¡°Ah, yes! To keep you informed¡ªI created a new contact in your phone. It¡¯s Emerra¡¯s number.¡±


    ¡°Emerra has a phone?¡±


    ¡°I thought it¡¯d be prudent to get her one.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°I also took your phone off silent for you.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­err. Thank you.¡±


    Darius nodded, then sauntered out the door. Without a break in his step, he crossed the hall, entered the library, and returned to Iset. She was still at the table they had rigged together. They had pushed the second library desk up against hers and gathered a few side tables and end tables to add to the edges. Several stacks of papers were already scattered around the imperfect top.


    Iset was in front of her laptop with a tablet, more paper, and several pens beside her.


    She didn¡¯t look up when Darius came in, and she still didn¡¯t look up when he dropped himself into the chair across from her.


    ¡°I can¡¯t decide if the directions Jacky gives are impossible or useless,¡± Darius announced.


    Iset moved a paper. ¡°Or both?¡±


    ¡°What if they¡¯re neither?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re probably at least one of the two, or I doubt you¡¯d be complaining about them.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m annoyed because they¡¯re so obvious, and yet Jacky seems to think he has to point them out to me.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm. You don¡¯t seem like the kind of person who¡¯d waste time thinking of impossible and useless directions. Perhaps that¡¯s why Jacky felt like he had to tell you.¡±


    ¡°Have I ever told you how much I appreciate the fact you think the best of others?¡±


    ¡°It makes a nice contrast to your own mindset, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the hazards of living my life. You tend to become a bit jaded.¡± Darius paused. ¡°How¡¯s the translation coming?¡±


    ¡°Not well.¡± Iset sat back in her chair and sighed. ¡°This will take longer than I thought.¡±


    ¡°Was it written in Late Egyptian?¡±


    ¡°It was, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯ll be easy.¡±


    ¡°I thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know what you thought, and I promise I¡¯ll get you an accurate translation, but it¡¯s like expecting a modern English speaker to translate Chaucer¡¯s handwritten manuscript when they haven¡¯t actually read English in over a thousand years! I¡¯m going to be rusty at it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Iset. I didn¡¯t mean to pressure you.¡±


    The mummy closed her laptop. ¡°I know. It¡¯s all right. I¡¯m more frustrated with the work than anything else.¡±


    ¡°Have you had any time to do research?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the joys of needing so little rest. I have plenty of time.¡± Iset reached over the closer papers to grab the stack behind them. ¡°I printed out the file that Ashworth sent me, but I can save you some time by telling you that Joel Aubert has never shown any talent or inclination toward being a thrismage, and nothing in his background would indicate that he¡¯d be able to read Egyptian.¡±


    She passed Darius the papers.


    ¡°I¡¯m less worried about the translation,¡± he said. He glanced over the first page. ¡°We¡¯re dealing with a case full of anthropologists. Someone should have been able to translate the scroll or knew someone who could.¡±


    ¡°It might be worth trying to find out who.¡±


    ¡°You think they might be involved?¡±


    ¡°I think you could ask them for the translation, then I wouldn¡¯t have to do it.¡±


    ¡°What are all these rankings?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Quicade¡¯s system. They use it to help match their sorcerers to their most promising field of study.¡±


    ¡°Do these numbers seem low to you?¡±


    ¡°They are low. Aubert¡¯s natural talents are limited. He can only sense a magic object if he¡¯s touching it, and he can¡¯t sense or see active magic unless he¡¯s the one casting it.¡±


    ¡°He mentioned that.¡±


    ¡°His power isn¡¯t impressive either.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Darius tossed the papers on the desk. ¡°So even if he did have the faith, he probably wouldn¡¯t have had the power to use the scroll. How did he graduate?¡±


    ¡°As far as I can tell, through sheer passion. What he lacked in practical ability, he made up for in his study and development of theory.¡±


    ¡°What about the other suspects?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t find any trace of them through the Torr. If they¡¯re magicians, we don¡¯t know it, and there¡¯s a chance they might not know it.¡±


    ¡°Iset, is there any way to sense if someone¡¯s a thrismage?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s not like looking for a witch. A person sensitive to magic would feel when they¡¯re using their power, but otherwise¡­¡± The mummy shook her head.


    ¡°And there¡¯s no spell we can use?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Darius leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. ¡°So I can¡¯t find the magician.¡±


    ¡°Not easily. Was that one of the obvious, impossible, useless directions Jacky gave you?¡±


    The count nodded.


    ¡°What were the others?¡±


    ¡°He wants to know what happened. He wants us to find the scroll or find out what¡¯s on it, and he wants to know if the soul is missing because of something else.¡±


    ¡°That last one, at least, should be doable.¡±


    ¡°Only if the murderer was kind enough to leave behind traces of magic or the object he used. If he took it all with him, we won¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    The vampire took a deep breath and sat up. ¡°I suppose that means I¡¯ll have to take on the first impossible task and try to find out what happened.¡± He grabbed the nearest file.


    ¡°Means, motive, opportunity?¡± Iset said.


    ¡°It¡¯s what I know how to do. We¡¯ll go by the book and follow the leads.¡±

 Chapter 22 - Checking the House

    The next morning, I staggered downstairs, groggy and with an aching head. Without a word, I went into the kitchen and over to the cupboard where the painkillers were kept.


    I heard Igor¡¯s voice behind me: ¡°Again?¡±


    The flagrant disbelief in his tone seemed excessive. It was only the fourth morning¡­in a row¡­


    Okay, maybe he had a point.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said.


    ¡°The way you keep pounding through that bottle, we¡¯re going to need to buy another.¡±


    I shook the bottle and immediately regretted it. The rattle was loud.


    ¡°Is there a list I need to add it to somewhere?¡± I asked.


    I turned and stopped short. Olivia was there¡ªnot too surprising¡ªbut Conrad was there as well. They were both sitting at the table. The wolfman was nursing a coffee.


    I pulled my eyes away from the odd sight and went over to the coffee pot while Igor answered me.


    ¡°There¡¯s a common list we share across an app, but I¡¯m busy. Have one of them help you.¡± He jerked his thumb toward Olivia and Conrad.


    I poured my coffee and took my two pill appetizer with me as I meandered toward the table.


    I had to meander to buy myself enough time to make the choice between the six-foot-plus wolf-monster with his back to me or the red-headed witch that had her nose fixed in a book and an icy look on her face.


    I pulled out the chair next to Conrad, my hand trembling only a little.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± I muttered as I sat down.


    ¡°Morning,¡± he growled. It wasn¡¯t an angry growl. It was more like he wasn¡¯t bothering to articulate. If he¡¯d been human, it might have been a grumble.


    Olivia still hadn¡¯t looked up.


    I mentally sighed. Yeah. It would be easier to make friends with the wolfman.


    I said to Conrad, ¡°Do you have the app that Igor was talking about?¡±


    Conrad put down his mug and pulled his phone from his pocket. After flicking through a few screens, he tilted his head to glance at me.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your phone?¡± he asked.


    I fumbled to get it out. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You want help getting the app, right?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh, I was just going to have you add Advil to the list.¡±


    ¡°Might as well add you to the house now.¡±


    I hesitated, and it was a mighty hesitation. When I raised my eyes, I saw Olivia watching me, probably to see what I would do. My stomach lurched.


    ¡°Is everything okay?¡± Conrad asked.


    ¡°Yeah. Sure.¡± I looked away from the witch. ¡°What¡¯s the name of it?¡±


    It took Iset a minute to see her notification and add me to the group, but then I was able to add Advil to the list, all by myself. I tried not to feel idiotically pleased about it, and failed.


    ¡°Ha! Look at that.¡± I put my phone down on the table next to my coffee. ¡°That¡¯s a really cool system. And Mrs. Park has that list too?¡±


    ¡°She does the general shopping on Wednesdays. If there¡¯s something you need before then, you have to text her.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    The wolfman shrugged and sipped his coffee.


    My coffee was cool enough, I could finally use it to take my medicine. I had barely swallowed before Darius came into the room.


    He greeted us all with a good morning, then said, ¡°Emerra, Olivia, can you be ready to go in a few minutes?¡±


    Olivia picked up the bag that had been sitting on the chair next to her and got to her feet. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go now.¡±


    The rise to my feet was slower. ¡°Olivia¡¯s coming with us?¡±


    The vampire paused. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sorry, I forgot to mention it to you last night.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a problem, is it?¡± Olivia asked.


    Her tone was off, but I couldn¡¯t tell if there was a bite to the question or only bared teeth.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I lied. ¡°I was just surprised.¡±


    It was another morning of coffee to go. The drive to Wayde¡¯s house was long and silent.


    When we got there, Miranda was already waiting on the porch. I smiled and waved. She waved back. Darius, Olivia, and I reached the top of the stairs and exchanged greetings with Miranda while she unlocked the door and opened it.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Thank you, Miss St. John,¡± Darius said. ¡°Do you have classes now, or can I ask you a few questions?¡±


    Miranda glanced at her phone. ¡°I have some time before my first class.¡±


    ¡°Let me take you out to get some coffee. We can let Miss Oliversen and Miss Cole get to work¡ªas long as you don¡¯t mind?¡±


    When Darius tagged on that last line, I felt a gentle pressure sink around all of us. No matter how relaxed he sounded, he really didn¡¯t want Miranda to mind.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± she said.


    Miranda gave me the key, and Darius told me to text him when we were done. The two of them left. I was alone with the sixteen year-old, red-headed witch.


    Olivia turned and went into the house.


    ¡°Lock the door behind us,¡± she commanded.


    I entered, closed the door, and threw the latch. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°For the same reason that Darius had to get that girl out of the way. You¡¯re not supposed to let a mundane see you doing magic.¡±


    ¡°Why all the secrecy?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only policy. It varies from area to area. People say that historically there¡¯s less trouble when fewer people know about the supernatural, but I think they¡¯re making too big a deal out of it. The real trouble is getting people to believe.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what you¡¯re looking for?¡±


    ¡°Any magical relics or devices, and any trace of magic that may have been used in the house. Darius wants to make sure we¡¯re not missing anything obvious while we¡¯re hunting for the scroll.¡±


    ¡°Where do we start?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing, but I¡¯m going to start searching in the study.¡±


    ¡°Darius said that I should help you.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Show me where the study is, then try to stay out of my way.¡±


    I stared at Olivia for a flat second as I considered having it out with her. I wanted to know why she disliked me so much, but the only time she¡¯d ever lost her temper with me, I had earned it. I wasn¡¯t supposed to have heard her complaints to Iset, and if I brought up all her snippiness, she could tell me I was imagining things.


    She returned my stare with her own.


    ¡°It¡¯s this way.¡± I motioned to the door off the living room.


    When Olivia entered the study, she looked around and muttered, ¡°Pack-rat.¡±


    She put down her bag, pulled out a stack of small papers and some chalk, and started working.


    I liked watching her work. Most of the time it was boring, since all there was to see was a girl wandering around the room, waving her finger and muttering under her breath, but every once in a while, she¡¯d do something unconsciously magical, like hang a piece of paper in the air. She would trace her finger over the designs to create glowing white runes that floated there even after she removed the paper. They looked like Viking alphabet fireflies.


    I tried to stay away from her work, but I always seemed to be in her way. After the fourth time she told me to move, I put myself in the open door and tried to think skinny.


    As Olivia lost herself in her work, her face grew more calm and serious. She finished checking the study, but I didn¡¯t want to disrupt her concentration by asking if she¡¯d found anything. I turned sideways so she wouldn¡¯t run into me as she left the room. When she moved into the hall, a faint indigo mist trailed from her skirt. I dodged back into the study long enough to grab her bag.


    I followed her from room to room as her silent attendant. For all the good I was doing, I might as well have been one of Wayde¡¯s weird statues. Olivia probably would have preferred that. She never had to snap at them to get out of her way. After a while, I got better at anticipating where she needed to be, and we could cover a whole room in near silence.


    We made it all the way to one of the upstairs spare bedrooms before I blew it.


    I was standing in a corner of the room, forgotten. Olivia had already covered that area, so several lines of blazing white script were hanging in the air in front of me. I slowly reached out to touch one of the rune fireflies.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Olivia said.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± I tucked my hand behind my back.


    ¡°Were you trying to put your hand through my spell?¡± She wasn¡¯t quite shouting, but it was a near thing.


    ¡°It looks so pretty. I wanted to know what it felt like.¡±


    Her expression hardened. ¡°Leave.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Put my bag down and leave.¡±


    ¡°But Darius said¡ª¡±


    ¡°Thank you, but I don¡¯t need your help, and what you¡¯re doing isn¡¯t helping.¡± She turned away. ¡°I¡¯ll find you when I¡¯m done.¡±


    I had been about to say that Darius had told me to keep my eyes open, but I couldn¡¯t really argue with Olivia. I didn¡¯t want to. I wasn¡¯t helping, she said she didn¡¯t need me, and I could use some space.


    I put her bag on the floor and left.


    I went downstairs into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. Chugging it helped me feel more awake. I needed to be awake. Dealing with Olivia¡¯s attitude was hard enough without being on the edge of tears because of exhaustion.


    When I was done, I washed out the glass, dried it, and put it away.


    I wandered out of the kitchen. Without really thinking about it, my feet took me toward the study.


    The door was still open. The room was silent and motionless, trapped in the final mess of its owner¡ªa cheerful testament to the kind of man he was.


    I wandered over to the remaining armchair. As I sat down, I caught a glimpse of a red-stained body across from me. My eyes flew back up, but there was nothing but an empty spot where the chair should have been.


    I took a deep breath and felt my heart rate slow.


    ¡°Keep your eyes open,¡± I muttered.


    That was hard to do. Each eyelid weighed a hundred pounds. It wasn¡¯t long before the darkness of my blinks went from a fraction of a second to several seconds. After that, only an act of will could get me to open my eyes again.


    Then I ran out of will.


    The next I knew, a hand grabbed my shoulder, hard, and I was dragged from my dream into reality.


    Olivia was standing over me.


    The red hair gave it away. I might not have recognized her otherwise. I¡¯d never seen that look of concern on her face before.


    ¡°Olivia.¡± I took a breath. ¡°Are you all done?¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Why?¡± I rubbed my eyes.


    ¡°You were dreaming.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been having trouble sleeping. I¡¯m fine. Did you find anything?¡±


    For a second, she didn¡¯t answer. The worry gradually cleared from her face, and she said, ¡°No. There¡¯s nothing magical in the house or yard, and if there were any traces of a spell, they¡¯re long gone.¡±


    ¡°Is that normal?¡±


    Olivia slipped into the know-it-all voice she usually used when answering questions.


    ¡°Each type of magic and each application of magic leaves different traces if the magician isn¡¯t careful. We can figure out the spells that would have already faded, but we¡¯ll always have to consider the possibility that the magician was hiding his tracks.¡±


    ¡°Dang. That three hundred year-old school had some useful stuff to teach.¡±


    ¡°Actually, it was Iset that taught me that.¡±


    ¡°Even better. A three thousand year-old tutor.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already texted Darius. I¡¯m taking a taxi home. You¡¯ll meet him at the fountain in the center of campus.¡±


    I pulled out my phone. The clock read four forty-two. ¡°Geez! Is that the time?¡±


    Olivia¡¯s voice rose. ¡°I had to do the whole house!¡±


    I rushed to assure her, ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. I¡¯m surprised I slept for so long.¡±


    She watched me but didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Thank you for waking me,¡± I said.


    She turned away. ¡°You have the key to lock up. Are you ready to go?¡±


    I tucked my phone back in my pocket. ¡°Sure. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    As I went to stand up, I grabbed for the object in my lap, but there was nothing there. I blinked and stared at my empty hand.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Olivia asked. Her tone suggested she was mystified and slightly disgusted by my bizarre behavior.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I said.

 Chapter 23 - The Dead Enders

    After we found Miranda and returned her key, Darius took me out to an early dinner at a sit-down restaurant where a lovely waiter not only took my order, but assured me they would bring my food out to me shortly. I couldn¡¯t have been more grateful.


    While we were waiting, I asked Darius how his day went.


    ¡°About as well as can be expected.¡±


    He¡¯d only been able to talk to Miranda for a half-hour before she went to class. That had revealed nothing significant.


    ¡°What were you hoping to learn?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work that way.¡±


    Darius sipped his coffee. It was the only thing he¡¯d ordered. It seemed to be the only thing he consumed regularly¡ªat least, in public.


    He went on, ¡°When we¡¯re looking for leads and information, we try to interview everyone we know for all the details we can get. That means we get a lot of boring and irrelevant information. Nothing seems significant now, but any number of facts might lead us to the scroll.¡±


    After that, he had waited around until he could make an appointment for tomorrow with Frost. Then he¡¯d gone back to Detective Moran to get even more paperwork and information, and he¡¯d spent the rest of the time combing through it.


    I felt kind of guilty about my six hour nap.


    ¡°So what happens next?¡± I said.


    ¡°Next we meet the Dead End.¡±


    ¡°What? Already? I mean, shouldn¡¯t we interview Frost first? He was Wayde¡¯s friend! He might know something.¡±


    The vampire smiled and sipped his coffee.


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°Are you enjoying a joke that isn¡¯t funny?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a club, Emerra. It was the club that Trevon Wayde went to on the night he died. They call themselves the Dead End Club.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Frost introduced me to one of the members, but he only had enough time to tell me where they were meeting tonight before he had to rush off. They¡¯ll be expecting us.¡±


    I fidgeted with my fork and stared up at the Edison-style light bulb hanging above our table. ¡°The Dead End Club?¡±


    ¡°You can ask them about it when we get there.¡±


    I did. It was the first thing out of my mouth, and I almost talked over Darius¡¯s introductions to get it out there. I get six hours of sleep, and suddenly I have a little energy.


    All three men at the table smiled when they heard the question.


    Newton said, ¡°Inquisitive. I like this one.¡±


    ¡°Sit down, Miss Cole,¡± Huff added. He eyed me. ¡°You don¡¯t look old enough to drink.¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Have you ever had a cran-soda?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll buy you one as a welcome to the club. Agent Vasil?¡±


    The vampire pulled out a chair for me to sit down.


    Pulled. Out. A. Chair. Like some Victorian gentleman.


    Delight bubbled through me. I felt the urge to curtsy and say, ¡°Oh, thank you, dear Count,¡± but I refrained, mostly because I didn¡¯t have a skirt to sweep out to the side, but also because I wasn¡¯t sure if Darius realized he¡¯d done it.


    I took my seat and kept my modern, skirt-less mouth shut.


    Vasil sat in the chair beside me. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m on duty.¡±


    ¡°Two boring drinks for our guests then.¡±


    Huff flagged down a waitress while Newton leaned forward.


    ¡°We few and honored men,¡± he said, ¡°have a clear knowledge of our fate in this world, and so we can celebrate our freedom from expectation and ambition. We all made it to professorship, we all have tenure, but for various reasons, we know we¡¯ll go no further. We will all likely die as professors.¡±


    ¡°Like Professor Wayde,¡± the last man added. It was Stokes. I remembered he was the history professor.


    ¡°To Wayde!¡± Huff added, turning back to the table.


    They all raised their beers and drank.


    ¡°What did you do to get black listed?¡± I asked Huff.


    ¡°You promise you won¡¯t laugh?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s being defensive again,¡± Newton said. ¡°Come on, Huff. You¡¯re among friends here. Of course we¡¯re going to laugh.¡±


    ¡°I think that there¡¯s enough evidence for creationism that it should be admitted into consideration and debated, the same as evolution, and I was dumb enough to admit that to one of my colleagues. Not only has it tainted my director¡¯s view of me, but now people will not shut up about it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an outlawed topic here,¡± Stokes said.


    I thought back to our introductions. ¡°Aren¡¯t you a physics professor? Why would your opinion on evolution matter?¡±


    Newton said, ¡°Well, there¡¯s that whole matter of the beginning of the Universe.¡±


    ¡°I believe in the Big Bang!¡± Huff said. ¡°The evidence is compelling enough.¡±


    ¡°Outlawed!¡± Stokes reminded them.


    The waitress returned with our drinks and set them in front of us before leaving.


    I pulled my glass toward me as I asked Newton, ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°I? I am but a humble student in the glorious field of philosophy who had the role of teacher thrust upon him. Without any other guide, I took my lead from Socrates, modifying his technique, only a little, to match my personality.¡±


    I gazed at him, confused.


    ¡°He argues with everyone instead of asking them questions,¡± Huff explained. ¡°Whatever side of the debate you¡¯re on, he takes the opposite.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Newton grumbled, ¡°and it turns out that if you play the devil¡¯s advocate too often, it annoys people.¡±


    ¡°But you still do it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Of course. There is such a thing as intellectual integrity.¡±


    ¡°He enjoys it,¡± Huff said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he could stop himself at this point,¡± Stokes added.


    ¡°And you?¡± I asked.


    Stokes cleared his throat. ¡°I¡­uh¡­I¡¯ve had maybe one or two affairs¡ªno students or anything¡ªbut¡­married women. It caused some trouble.¡±


    Newton grinned. ¡°There has never been a philosophy that could solve the problem of men and women.¡±


    I liked these dorks. For a bunch of middle aged men, they were pretty entertaining.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°What about Wayde?¡± Darius asked.


    The three friends sobered.


    ¡°So we arrive at the heart of the matter,¡± Newton muttered.


    ¡°Do you know why Wayde was a Dead Ender?¡± The vampire asked.


    Huff tapped the side of his glass. ¡°He didn¡¯t get along with his director.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s no good,¡± Newton said. ¡°Even if Kiel had loved him, Wayde probably couldn¡¯t have gotten any further.¡±


    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have wanted to,¡± Stokes said. ¡°He loved his position.¡±


    ¡°Gentlemen.¡± Darius prompted.


    Newton sighed. ¡°Wayde was a good man. He had morals. But people with real morals¡ªmorals born from their own conscience, instead of dictated by rules¡ªthey don¡¯t always worry about the rules because they already know what¡¯s right and wrong.¡±


    ¡°Can I get a slightly less philosophical explanation?¡±


    Huff said, ¡°Wayde would help students who had problem artifacts. I don¡¯t know how it got started, but as more students heard about it, they¡¯d go to him.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a problem artifact?¡± I asked.


    ¡°For an anthropology student? Anything that doesn¡¯t have proper paperwork. Real, fake, stolen, bought, in the family for over a hundred years¡ªit doesn¡¯t matter. If you couldn¡¯t prove that you had a legitimate right to own it, it was a problem. Depending on how strict you were, that would include having permission from the people who created it.¡±


    I cast my mind back over what little I knew about history. ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem to leave many non-problem artifacts.¡±


    Huff motioned to me to acknowledge my point.


    ¡°What would Wayde do with these artifacts?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°He¡¯d take them, no questions asked, and help to get them appraised properly,¡± Newton said. ¡°He¡¯d try to find out their history, and sometimes he¡¯d advise the students on what to do with them.¡±


    ¡°How many times did he help students like that?¡±


    The three men looked at each other.


    ¡°Over the years?¡± Newton asked.


    ¡°Dozens,¡± Huff said.


    ¡°Hundreds?¡± Stokes added.


    ¡°The truth is, we aren¡¯t sure,¡± Newton finished. ¡°But it was a lot. Peter Kiel found out about it once, back when he and Wayde were new professors. Kiel, of course, disapproved, and Wayde, of course, didn¡¯t care. It never occurred to him that Kiel would be promoted over him.¡±


    ¡°Why of course?¡± I asked. ¡°Why would Kiel care?¡±


    ¡°Kiel has never met a rule he doesn¡¯t like. He¡¯s the kind of man that would take etiquette suggestions and scrawl them in stone.¡±


    The other two Dead Enders nodded.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s reaching outside my field,¡± Newton said as he leaned back in his chair, ¡°but I think Kiel resented Wayde¡¯s popularity. Wayde was a man that, as far as Kiel was concerned, ought to have been burned at the stake, but everyone else seemed to love him.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It would get under anyone¡¯s skin.¡±


    Darius said, ¡°Did Wayde ever keep the artifacts the students gave him?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Huff said. ¡°He never bought them if they were real, but he loved to get his hands on the fake ones.¡±


    ¡°The fake ones?¡± I said.


    Huff smiled. ¡°Sounds weird, doesn¡¯t it? But he thought they were great. ¡®A testament to human ingenuity,¡¯ he¡¯d say.¡±


    ¡°He also said that in time they¡¯d be just as legitimate an artifact as the real ones. Made by a human. Old.¡± Newton slapped the table. ¡°He was a long-term thinker.¡±


    ¡°¡®Give it a few hundred years,¡¯¡± Stokes recited, ¡°¡®you¡¯ll see I¡¯m right.¡¯¡±


    ¡°The real and fake game,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Newton said. ¡°Have you played?¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°That was a dumb game,¡± Huff said.


    ¡°What¡¯s this game?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Have you seen his study?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Wayde would pick up some random item, hand it to you, and then stand there, smiling, waiting for you to guess if it was real or fake. The only people who had a chance at it were experts, and even they didn¡¯t always get it right. I¡¯m a physicist! How should I know what a real kachina looks like?¡±


    ¡°Did he play this game a lot?¡±


    ¡°With anyone who walked into his house,¡± Stokes said. ¡°Hell, if someone delivered a couch to him, they probably had to play it.¡±


    ¡°About how much of his collection was fake?¡±


    Once again, the Dead Enders glanced at each other.


    ¡°About half?¡± Newton ventured.


    Darius toyed with the straw the waitress had left for him. His cran-soda was untouched. ¡°Did Wayde ever mention a scroll to you? Something written in Late Egyptian?¡±


    Stokes and Newton shook their heads.


    Huff said, ¡°If he did, I don¡¯t remember it.¡±


    ¡°Could he have gotten it from a student?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s possible. He didn¡¯t tell us about everything he got.¡±


    ¡°Detective Moran and I have been going through Wayde¡¯s financial records. Around the time he would have acquired this scroll, there was no unexpected money changing hands.¡±


    ¡°Okay. And?¡± Newton said.


    ¡°The scroll was a fake, but he didn¡¯t buy it.¡±


    There was a short silence at the table, then Huff said, ¡°A student might have given it to him for free.¡±


    ¡°Did that happen often?¡±


    Huff squirmed. ¡°Not often, no. Professors aren¡¯t supposed to accept gifts from students, so he preferred to buy them. But it¡¯s not impossible¡­¡± His voice trailed off.


    ¡°If Wayde was willing to buy them, why would a student give it to him for free?¡±


    After a second, Newton said, ¡°I don¡¯t think we can help you there, Agent.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, gentlemen. I¡¯ll ask around. I understand that Trevon Wayde was with you on the night he died.¡±


    ¡°He was with us here,¡± Newton said. ¡°We were probably the last to see him.¡±


    ¡°Did he come to the meeting every week?¡±


    ¡°Every week. I think he only missed a meeting or two when he was sick. He was the most dependable of us.¡±


    ¡°But he left early last week.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was weird. He barely had time to finish his first drink.¡±


    ¡°Did he say why he was leaving?¡±


    ¡°He said that he was going to meet someone.¡±


    My eyes darted over to Darius, but he was too intent on Newton to notice.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t say who?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±


    ¡°Did he get a message or a call before he left?¡±


    ¡°Not that I noticed.¡± Newton looked at his two friends.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t,¡± Stokes said. ¡°He never looked at his phone.¡± Stokes nodded toward something behind our backs. ¡°He checked the clock to see what time it was.¡±


    I looked over my shoulder. A large, decorative clock declared it was almost six-thirty.


    ¡°Did he seem upset?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Huff said. ¡°If anything, he looked happy.¡±


    ¡°Happy?¡±


    ¡°Smiling, laughing¡ªyou know, happy.¡±


    ¡°Mind you,¡± Newton said, ¡°Wayde was normally pretty cheerful.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but that night he seemed more happy than usual.¡±


    Darius looked at Stokes to see if he had anything to add. He only shrugged.


    The vampire sat back and thought, then said, ¡°He never mentioned the scroll?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Huff said.


    ¡°Then none of you would know who he got it from?¡±


    Newton said, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, gentlemen,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all for now. You¡¯ve talked to the police?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And they have your contact information?¡±


    ¡°They do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you if I have any other questions.¡±


    I didn¡¯t feel too bad leaving my drink behind. It was too bitter for my tastes.


    Once we were in the car and driving home, Darius said, ¡°Emerra, when did you hear about the real or fake game?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh. Miranda mentioned it yesterday¡­while we were in the kitchen together.¡±


    My voice got smaller toward the end of my sentence. When I was done, I waited to see if I was going to be berated again. Yesterday Darius had been so busy chewing me out for chasing after the thief, he¡¯d never gotten around to yelling at me about leaving the study.


    After a second of silence, Darius muttered, ¡°That¡¯s my fault. I was distracted yesterday. I failed to ask you for your report on the conversation.¡±


    His fault? Well, okay. If he insisted.


    ¡°Was she willing to talk to you?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡±


    ¡°Did you think she wouldn¡¯t be willing to talk to me?¡±


    ¡°I thought she might find it hard to talk to anyone associated with the police or the FBI.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You do know that she¡¯s the primary suspect in a murder investigation, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°What? Why?!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the only one who benefits from Wayde¡¯s death.¡±


    ¡°Benefits! She lost her only ally!¡±


    ¡°Maybe she needed money more than she needed support.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a load of crap, and the only people who¡¯d say that have never been friendless.¡±


    When Darius glanced at me, I squirmed. His gaze was a little too perceptive for my comfort.


    The vampire said, in an offhand voice, ¡°Do you know what Louis Summer said to Miranda while we were in Wayde¡¯s office?¡±


    ¡°No. They were across the room, and he was whispering.¡±


    A closed-lip smile appeared on the count¡¯s face.


    ¡°What did he say?¡± I demanded.


    ¡°He said, ¡®Does the FBI think you did it too?¡¯ Miranda St. John is scared, and she¡¯s been through a lot. It¡¯s no wonder she wouldn¡¯t be eager to talk to us. All I¡¯m saying is that I¡¯m glad she was willing to talk to you.¡±


    I fidgeted with my fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it was me she was talking to, so much as the rather attractive Joel Aubert, but me being there didn¡¯t stop her.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me what they said? Try to keep it in order, and in as close to the same words as possible.¡±


    Oh! I could do that. I¡¯d always had a good memory for conversations. It was nice to know it could be useful.


    Darius said nothing through my whole recitation.


    When I finished, he still said nothing.


    I tried to give him all the silence he needed to think, but eventually I had to say something or my ears would rupture from the lack of stimulation.


    ¡°Are you wondering about the real or fake game?¡± I said. ¡°The way Miranda talked, she made it sound like Professor Frost knows more about the collection than anyone.¡±


    ¡°I am looking forward to talking to Frost tomorrow. Maybe he¡¯ll know if Wayde had a girlfriend.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°You said that Miranda only ¡®thought¡¯ he did.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you got from all that? I mean, gosh, nevermind the fact that a sweetheart like Miranda¡¯s been disowned by her crazy mother¡ªTrevon Wayde might have a girlfriend!¡±


    ¡°If I have any questions about the drama between Miranda and her mother, I have no doubt I¡¯ll be able to find the answers. But this is the first time I¡¯ve ever heard about a possible girlfriend. I¡¯d like to know more about her.¡± After a pause, he added, ¡°Of course, Miranda might have been wrong. I¡¯m also wondering why the thief was pawing around for so long. They had the scroll, why didn¡¯t they leave? ¡±


    Darius¡¯s phone rang. He reached out to where it was attached to his dashboard and put the call on speaker.


    ¡°This is Special Agent Darius Vasil.¡±


    ¡°Darius!¡±


    ¡°Iset?¡±


    The name on the screen said it was her; Darius must not have had a chance to look at it.


    ¡°I finished the translation.¡± Her voice sounded strained.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± the vampire demanded.


    ¡°After the standard warnings, there was a section on what the scroll was for. Darius, it claims that it¡¯s about how to give a mundane person magic power.¡±


    The steering wheel creaked when Vasil¡¯s grip tightened.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± Darius insisted.


    There was nothing but silence from the phone.


    ¡°Iset?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to get a hold of Ashworth and Reynell, and there are a few other theorists I want to talk to, but given everything, we may have to assume it¡¯s not as impossible as we thought. Did Wayde know what the scroll said?¡±


    There was a short silence.


    Vasil said, ¡°Trevon Wayde was not an Egyptologist, and from everything we know, he shouldn¡¯t have been able to translate it himself. But I got to look at his internet history today. He might have been trying to.¡±

 Chapter 24 - Whats Anime

    I was curled up on the couch, my arms around my knees, gazing with dead eyes at the TV screen. I had turned the volume down low enough the voices of the people on-screen were nothing but a murmur. I didn¡¯t mind. They weren¡¯t saying anything interesting. I had a nice numb feeling going on when¡ª


    ¡°What are you watching?¡±


    So much for trying to reduce the adrenaline in my body.


    Fortunately, my racing heart tried to escape by jumping into my throat. It wasn¡¯t all that hard to catch it and put it back in my chest. That done, I turned around. Conrad was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He took up so much room, I could barely see any space around him.


    ¡°You startled me,¡± I said.


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Nah. It¡¯s all right.¡± I turned back to the TV. Looking at his hulking form was making me nervous. I curled up again. ¡°I think it¡¯s the shopping channel.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to be watching this?¡±


    I shrugged with one shoulder. Even that was almost too much effort for my current mood. ¡°It¡¯s voices. I just wanted¡ª¡±


    I swallowed back the rest of that sentence. There is such a thing as too much honesty.


    Conrad moved further into the room. ¡°Sure. But the shopping channel? Do they even count as real people?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°You know, the lady does look kind of plastic.¡±


    I heard a chuffing sound, like a dog makes when it blows air out its nose. I glanced to my side. The light from the TV was enough for me to make out the curve of Conrad¡¯s lips. If he was smiling, maybe the chuff was his laugh.


    I picked up the remote from beside me and dropped it on the coffee table. It¡¯s clunking noise was louder than the show. ¡°I couldn¡¯t figure out the TV,¡± I admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what kind of channels you get here, but I found this, and¡­you know.¡±


    He probably didn¡¯t. Not many people would.


    Back when I lived at the hospital, sometimes I¡¯d wake up in the middle of the night. It¡¯s hard to be alone when you can¡¯t sleep. It¡¯s harder when you know you¡¯re dying. There were times I needed to hear someone else¡¯s voice¡ªanyone else¡¯s¡ªor I thought I would skip the whole cancer thing and die of loneliness instead. But the nurses were busy, and I knew it would be wrong to monopolize them, so I turned on the TV to keep me company.


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    I couldn¡¯t watch any dramas or crime shows; my stress was high enough. If I was lucky, I might find some old comedies playing, but when that failed me, I could always turn to the shopping channel. At least they were paid to smile.


    The wolfman came around the edge of the couch. His steps were slow. ¡°Hey, if this is really your thing, don¡¯t let me stop you, but if you want, I could help you find a show that at least has some chance of being entertaining.¡±


    I craned my head so I could give him a side-long glance. ¡°What kind of channels do you have?¡±


    ¡°You name it, we probably have it.¡±


    I felt a bit of hope flutter around my ribs. ¡°Anime?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s anime?¡±


    All my hope, fear, sadness, and loneliness had exactly one microsecond to move aside to make way for the tsunami of disbelief.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®what¡¯s anime?¡¯¡± I cried. ¡°Anime! Japanese animation!¡±


    ¡°Cartoons?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not¡ª¡± I groaned. ¡°They¡¯re not cartoons. This is stuff like Naruto, One Piece, Fullmetal Alchemist.¡± The only thing I got from the wolfman was a blank look. ¡°You really don¡¯t know what anime is?¡±


    ¡°¡®Fraid not.¡±


    ¡°No Crunchyroll?¡±


    ¡°Is that some kind of sushi?¡±


    I had to smile. ¡°All right, you philistine, what about American cartoons?¡±


    ¡°That, we can do.¡±


    He reached out. I passed him the remote while silently marveling at the size of his hands.


    Paws?


    Whatever. They were massive. And so fluffy.


    He said, ¡°We have Cartoon Network and Boomerang with the normal channels, but Netflix has a pretty good selection. Not sure about Hulu.¡±


    ¡°You have streaming services?¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡±


    I had died¡ªno, I really had died¡ªand, clearly, this was a slightly inferior form of heaven. Only the really good boys and girls get Crunchyroll when they die.


    That¡¯s what I get for being a pain to my various foster parents.


    ¡°Netflix please!¡±


    He showed me how to get to the preview channel, so I could see what was on TV, and how to move over to the streaming services.


    I gasped when he opened up Netflix. Not only did they have cartoons, but they also knew what anime was.


    They didn¡¯t have the selection I might have wished for, but they had some new stuff, as well as a few familiar titles that made me feel like I was back with old friends.


    Considering the fact I was hunkered down in front of the TV at one in the morning because of my nightmares, I decided to skip the anime and keep it lighthearted.


    ¡°Phineas¡­and Ferb?¡± Conrad said.


    He sounded more curious than condescending, so I put my defensiveness aside.


    ¡°Have you seen it?¡± I asked


    ¡°It was after my time. I haven¡¯t watched cartoons since I was ten or twelve.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you poor child.¡±


    He gave me a look. It was weird with the muzzle and the yellow eye, but you could tell that¡¯s what he was doing.


    ¡°Some of the best shows only came out in the early two-thousands! And this¡±¡ªI motioned to the screen with both hands¡ª¡°this glorious masterpiece is one of them.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely.¡±


    He motioned to the spot next to me. ¡°May I?¡±


    There were two seconds of silence, then I squeaked¡ªbecause I knew I shouldn¡¯t shout¡ª¡°You want to watch it with me?¡±


    ¡°I hear it¡¯s supposed to be a masterpiece.¡±


    ¡°Sure! Be my guest!¡± I scooted over so he¡¯d have more room.


    He settled into his corner of the couch as I pressed play. Maybe I hadn¡¯t done such a good job putting my heart back in my chest; for a few minutes, it felt like it was trying to float away. I was happier than when I¡¯d gotten my rose-gold phone. That¡¯s what cartoons and companionship will do for you.

 Chapter 25 - Waiting for Frost

    I was the first one down for breakfast the next morning. I wasn¡¯t sure why Olivia wasn¡¯t there, but her wake up time varied from day to day. I had a much better idea why Conrad was absent. I¡¯d kept him up until four-thirty. The poor guy had earned a late morning, and I envied him.


    But even after the cartoons, the nightmares kept plaguing my sleep, so I was there to wish Igor a good morning.


    I had only gotten as far as the coffee pot before Darius came to get me. I steeled myself and told him I would be right there. I had to grab yet another round of painkillers. Breakfast of champions.


    Before I could reach the cupboard, Igor said, ¡°The girl is not a vampire, Vasil.¡±


    Darius and I both stared at him. Igor finished his task before turning to glare at the count.


    He went on, ¡°She needs food and rest.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware I was imposing on her,¡± Darius said.


    I stumbled toward them. ¡°You¡¯re not!¡±


    But it seemed my opinion wasn¡¯t important to the conversation.


    ¡°Did you remember to stop for lunch while you were out yesterday? Or the day before?¡±


    The vampire blinked. ¡°No. I don¡¯t think we did.¡±


    Igor looked at me with one of his eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± I assured him.


    He let out a loud humph, then held out his hand to me. ¡°Coffee.¡±


    I passed him my mug. He pulled out the thermos I¡¯d been using and transferred the coffee, but he didn¡¯t pass it to me. He put it aside and bent down to open a low drawer, pulling out some parchment paper and a paper bag.


    I looked at Darius, but he only shrugged.


    Igor put a fresh apple in the bag, cut off a length of paper, went to the oven, and pulled out a muffin tin of¡­eggs? Halfway through the conjuring trick, I realized what he was doing. The magician¡ªthe incredible, fantastic, amazing Igor!¡ªwas assembling a breakfast sandwich, complete with English muffin, Canadian bacon, cheese, and egg. He wrapped it in the paper, put it in the bag, then handed me my breakfast-to-go and coffee.


    I couldn¡¯t decide between applauding and weeping for joy.


    Instead, I said, ¡°Igor, you aren¡¯t a sweetheart, you¡¯re an angel!¡±


    He rolled both eyes this time, one after the other. ¡°Doing my job hardly qualifies me as a celestial being.¡±


    ¡°Says you.¡±


    I ate while Darius drove. I was focusing on my delicious sandwich, and I didn¡¯t have much focus to spare, so it was through a muzzy haze that I realized Darius had asked me if I was all right. I mumbled around my sandwich that I was.


    You¡¯d think a man with superhuman hearing would have heard me the first time, but no¡ªhe asked me again.


    ¡°Is there a tentacle growing out of my forehead that I¡¯m not aware of?¡± I said.


    ¡°Um¡ª¡±


    ¡°Right. I¡¯m dead. Is the flesh rotting off my face or something?¡±


    I caught a glimpse of Darius¡¯s expression before he turned back to the road.


    ¡°What¡¯s with that oh-so-subtle smile, Count Vasil?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re joking about face rot and tentacles, there can¡¯t be anything too wrong with you.¡±


    ¡°Nah.¡± I rolled up the bag and tucked it in my door. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Emerra Cole, you¡¯re a lousy liar.¡±


    I fiddled with my thermos. The snap-down plug made a satisfying click when you flicked it up and down. ¡°I¡¯m not a bad liar.¡±


    ¡°Another lie.¡±


    ¡°Is that some kind of FBI training, or is it a vampire extra sense?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t need either with you. Your voice changes whenever you lie. The only person you might be able to fool is Jacky, and only if he was already distracted.¡±


    ¡°Well, thank you very much. I¡¯ll have to practice more.¡±


    ¡°Or you could tell me the truth.¡±


    ¡°Are you worried because of what Igor said?¡±


    ¡°It is worrisome that Igor said something¡ªhe doesn¡¯t usually put himself out for other people¡ªbut I understand his concern.¡±


    I waved my hand. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. I haven¡¯t been sleeping well.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Seconds passed. I was sweating bullets and trying not to do whatever it was that made me a bad liar¡ªwhich was probably like trying not to be nervous when you¡¯re carrying the expensive china. Oh! Hey! Even my hands were shaking. Neat.


    Count Darius Vasil pulled into the exit lane. ¡°Thank you for being willing to come with me today.¡±


    Relief poured out from me. I wondered if he¡¯d be able to sense that too.


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    ¡°Nah,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯d let me come. I know I haven¡¯t been much use¡ªI promise I¡¯ll stare, like, really hard at anything you want me to¡ªbut I kind of want to know who-dun-it.¡± I clicked the lid of my thermos some more. ¡°And I¡¯m worried about Miranda.¡±


    ¡°You like her, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    The vampire put his free hand over his mouth and rubbed his chin.


    When we got to campus, we headed up to Wayde¡¯s old office. Rena Drix was the only one there. She was sitting in the chair that Summer had occupied the other day, fidgeting with a long piece of brown and white plastic. Darius wished her good morning. I turned to check something, but there wasn¡¯t much point since I was already inside the room. All the same, I was pretty sure I knew what that piece of plastic was.


    ¡°Did you take down Wayde¡¯s nameplate?¡± I asked.


    She pinched the plate¡¯s opposite corners between her hands and let it twirl. ¡°I did,¡± she said.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Kiel¡¯s secretary told me that he was going to have someone clean out Wayde¡¯s office. It¡¯s probably stupid of me, but I didn¡¯t want them to throw it away.¡±


    ¡°Is it the dinosaur sticker?¡±


    I saw the twitch of a smile. ¡°All hail, Lord Spike.¡±


    ¡°Did Wayde put it on himself?¡±


    ¡°I think a student put on the first sticker, but I know he¡¯s replaced it at least once. The students built up a whole lore around it. If you offer prayers and fruit snacks to Spike before finals, you¡¯ll get a better grade.¡± She put the nameplate facedown on the desk. It made a loud click. ¡°But Kiel wants to run a respectable institution of learning.¡±


    ¡°Are you the only one here today, Ms. Drix?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°No. Louis opened the room. He has all the keys, and he promised to keep it open in case any students need help. If you¡¯re looking for him, he should be back soon. He asked me to watch the place while he got a drink.¡±


    ¡°May I ask why you¡¯re here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be working on my project, but as you can see, even Lord Spike can¡¯t help me with that.¡±


    Louis Summer strode into the room, holding a can of soda.


    ¡°Well, well!¡± He shut the door. ¡°So the FBI agent and his assistant are still haunting the building. Have you come to ransack Wayde¡¯s office?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting idea,¡± Vasil said, ¡°but it wasn¡¯t my original plan, and I¡¯d have to get permission to do it. That¡¯ll be difficult since Kiel is out of the building.¡±


    ¡°Is he hiding from you?¡±


    ¡°Would he have a reason to hide from me?¡±


    A mean grin spread over Summer¡¯s face. ¡°Everyone knows that Kiel hated Wayde.¡±


    ¡°Do you know why?¡±


    ¡°Jealousy?¡±


    ¡°Jealous how?¡±


    ¡°Everyone loved Wayde. Kiel inspires only tolerance or indifference.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help thinking of Miranda and how two-faced she was for not wanting to date him.


    I said, ¡°You seem a little harsh in your judgments, sir.¡±


    Louis smirked. ¡°I like to think I¡¯m realistic about my fellow men.¡±


    ¡°Are you observant?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I like to know things.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where Professor Frost is?¡±


    Summer scoffed. ¡°Who cares? Is he supposed to be teaching right now or something?¡±


    ¡°No. He¡¯s supposed to be meeting me and Miss Cole here.¡±


    ¡°Then he¡¯ll probably be here in a few minutes. If he¡¯s ever on time, it¡¯s incidental.¡±


    ¡°What do you think of Professor Frost, Mr. Summer?¡±


    ¡°I think he¡¯s a lovable ass, desperate to climb his way into people¡¯s good opinions, but his hooves keep slipping on the rungs. It¡¯s entertaining at first, but over time it becomes sad.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not that bad,¡± Rena said.


    ¡°And no one can trust your opinion because you say that about everyone.¡±


    The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them: ¡°Yeah. Maybe if you¡¯re lucky, someday she¡¯ll say it about you.¡±


    Drix let out a grunt of laughter. Summer glared at me. Darius tried to glare at me, but the effect was ruined because he was also trying not to smile.


    I decided the hole I dug wasn¡¯t nearly deep enough, so I grabbed the nearest shovel. ¡°Want to tell us how much you hated Wayde?¡±


    Summer frowned. His eyes dropped to the floor. ¡°I liked Wayde.¡±


    There was a short silence.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Professor Wayde was one of the few genuinely happy people I¡¯ve ever met. He didn¡¯t care what others thought about him, but he was still kind to everyone.¡± Summer caught himself and added, with a shrug, ¡°Almost everyone. I think he tried to get under Kiel¡¯s skin sometimes.¡±


    ¡°He would try to get under Kiel¡¯s skin?¡± Darius asked.


    Drix explained, ¡°Professor Wayde usually only teased people if he knew they didn¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°But I assume Kiel minded.¡±


    ¡°And Wayde teased him anyway,¡± Summer said. He let out a loud sigh. ¡°He was an inspiration to us all.¡±


    ¡°Did either of you ever hear Wayde talk about an Egyptian scroll? It probably came into his possession in the last three or four months¡ª¡±


    ¡°You mean the fake?¡± Summer said. ¡°Is that the counterfeit you¡¯re after?¡±


    Darius was surprised. It was subtle, but both his eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. ¡°You knew about it?¡±


    ¡°I thought everyone knew about it. It¡¯s not like he bothered to hide it. God! I thought Wayde had gotten a hold of something important. That was just some stupid scroll meant to sucker tourists.¡±


    ¡°Did he show it to a lot of people?¡±


    ¡°I saw it lying on his desk and asked him about it. He told me it was fake. He never lied about it.¡±


    ¡°Did he tell you where he got it from?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t bother asking.¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t interested in it?¡±


    ¡°I have no interest in Egypt, and even less interest in forgeries.¡±


    ¡°Did Wayde seem interested in it?¡±


    Summer offered us a lopsided smile. ¡°It¡¯s clear you didn¡¯t know Professor Wayde.¡±


    Rena said, ¡°He got excited over everything.¡±


    ¡°What about you, Ms. Drix?¡± Darius said. ¡°Did you know about the scroll.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen it. I never asked about it.¡±


    The door opened. We all turned to see Professor Frost, looking breathless.


    ¡°Agent Vasil, I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late,¡± he huffed.


    ¡°Frost,¡± Summer called, ¡°he¡¯s asking about the scroll.¡±


    Frost¡¯s brow creased.


    ¡°The one Wayde got three months ago?¡± Summer prompted.


    ¡°What? The fake?¡±


    I glanced at Darius, but this time, his professional mask stayed firm.


    ¡°Do you know what happened to it?¡± Summer asked.


    ¡°He took it home. It was his new prized contender in the real-or-fake game.¡±


    ¡°Could Wayde have interpreted the scroll himself?¡± Darius asked.


    Frost grinned. ¡°Good heavens, no.¡±


    ¡°He took pride in the fact he couldn¡¯t even recognize the writing,¡± Summer added. ¡°He had a button made that said, ¡®I don¡¯t know what this says,¡¯ in Middle Egyptian. He wore it to all his conferences.¡±


    ¡°Why would he take pride in that?¡± I asked.


    Summer must have still been upset about my earlier comment. All he did was stare at me with his lips pressed together.


    Frost explained, ¡°Egyptian languages are Director Kiel¡¯s specialty and something of a passion with him.¡±


    Ah. Yeah. That¡¯d do it.


    ¡°Could Director Kiel have interpreted the scroll?¡± Darius asked.


    Summer folded his arms. ¡°Director Kiel could have read it, and if he stumbled, it would have been because the scribe had bad handwriting.¡±


    Darius looked at Frost. The professor nodded.


    ¡°Not that Wayde would have ever taken it to him,¡± Louis said.


    Vasil put his finger up to his lips, but his thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime.


    Rena Drix pulled out her phone. She barely glanced at the screen before stumbling to her feet. ¡°Sorry. I have to go.¡±


    She picked up her bag and headed to the door.


    Frost said, ¡°Agent Vasil, I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    Darius lowered his hand. ¡°Yes. Of course.¡±


    ¡°Would you rather talk here or somewhere more private?¡±


    ¡°I would prefer a private room. A quiet one, if possible.¡±


    ¡°We can use my office.¡± As Frost led us to the door, he called out, ¡°Good day, Mr. Summer.¡±


    Summer had already gone over to his computer. He pulled out his chair and droned in a bored voice, ¡°Goodbye, Frost.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the edges of Frost¡¯s mouth tick down.


    Any guilt I might have felt for my tactless comment disappeared in that instant. After all, it¡¯s not like Summer ever tried to hide what he thought about people.


    I stopped at the door long enough to say, ¡°I hope, with all my heart, that you have a wonderful day, Mr. Summer.¡±


    And I said it in my most cheerful voice and with my brightest smile¡­because I knew that would annoy him the most.


    I shut the door behind me and found Darius there, watching me.


    ¡°What?¡±

 Chapter 26 - Interview with Frost

    There were only a few students in Frost¡¯s outer office. They were all quietly working, and none of them accosted us as we crossed over to Frost¡¯s private room.


    Once we were inside, Professor Frost invited us to sit, while he took the chair behind his desk. Once we were settled, Frost interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on his desk.


    ¡°How can I help you, Agent Vasil?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hoping you can clear up a few things for me, since you were so close to Wayde.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    ¡°Detective Moran and I have been trying to put together a timeline of his last week, but Wayde didn¡¯t seem to use his online calendar much.¡±


    ¡°No. He liked to keep his appointments in his head. It worked most of the time, but then he¡¯d miss a dentist appointment and have to set three reminders and stick a post-it note on his computer.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t have a paper calendar?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know of.¡±


    ¡°How often did Wayde stay late at his office?¡±


    ¡°Most weekdays. He didn¡¯t have a family to go home to, so he was never in a hurry to leave, and he was the kind of professor who liked to help his students. When he went to his club on Tuesdays, he usually left from here.¡±


    ¡°Did he have any other hobbies or things he made time for?¡±


    ¡°Well, he liked to cook, and he was a bit of a foodie, but that¡¯s all I can think of. He was devoted to his work.¡±


    ¡°Was there anyone he was particularly close to?¡±


    Frost was quiet for a second. When he spoke again, there was a softness to his voice that hadn¡¯t been there before. ¡°I think that¡¯s mostly me. Trev was friendly to everyone, but that only meant he had a lot of acquaintances who loved him.¡±


    ¡°Were there any women who liked to hang around him?¡±


    ¡°Certainly, but they were mostly female students.¡±


    ¡°Did Wayde have a girlfriend?¡±


    ¡°A girlfriend?¡± A crooked smile appeared on Frost¡¯s face. ¡°No.¡±


    Something about that smile bugged me. It wasn¡¯t as if Darius had said something funny.


    ¡°Was he gay?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Frost said. ¡°He was straight¡ªwhenever he dated, it was always women¡ªbut he¡­¡± Frost took a breath. ¡°He didn¡¯t make time for it. We used to joke that the only way he¡¯d ever get married was if a woman stormed into his office and proposed to him. Even then, she¡¯d better have the license and maybe a justice of the peace with her.¡±


    ¡°So he wasn¡¯t seeing anyone?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Not that I know of, and I can¡¯t imagine why he wouldn¡¯t tell me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not married, are you, Professor Frost?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. I give too much of myself to my work.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be jealous?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about jealous. It would depend on how pretty she was. But Trev¡¯s always told me when he was dating someone so we could raise a glass together.¡±


    ¡°I see. Do you know if there was anyone he was interested in?¡±


    ¡°Last time he mentioned anyone was about two months ago. He said there was a woman that he was tempted to ask out, but he never mentioned her again.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t know who she was?¡±


    ¡°No. Agent Vasil, may I ask why all these questions about a girlfriend?¡±


    Darius raised his hand in a shrug. ¡°It was something someone said. Probably not important.¡±


    ¡°Not unless she reads Egyptian,¡± I muttered.


    Frost¡¯s polite smile widened into a real one. ¡°Oh, if she could read ancient Egyptian, I would have heard of her. That¡¯s a rare talent.¡±


    ¡°But Kiel can do it?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Professor, Louis Summer said that Wayde would sometimes try to get under Kiel¡¯s skin. Would you say that¡¯s accurate?¡±


    Frost squirmed. ¡°Well, I¡­I don¡¯t¡­¡±


    His mistake was glancing up at Darius in the middle of his blustering. If he¡¯d kept his eyes down on his desk, he might have been able to spin out his words into a fluff of nothing, but the vampire was gazing at him, unblinking, with his thousand pound stare. It pinned the professor to his seat and seared all the bluster out of him.


    ¡°Please understand,¡± Frost said, ¡°it wasn¡¯t that Trevon disliked Kiel. Much. Or maybe he did, but Trev was generally a polite person. He would never have been overtly rude¡ª¡±


    ¡°Most people aren¡¯t overtly rude to their bosses, Professor Frost.¡±


    ¡°No. I suppose not.¡± Frost sighed. ¡°Kiel never bothered to hide the fact he didn¡¯t like Trev. After a few years, I think that would bother anyone. Trev teased Kiel to torment him. It was a mild form of stress relief. Fortunately, they didn¡¯t have to deal with each other much.


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    ¡°Was there anyone else that disliked Wayde?¡±


    Frost thought about it. ¡°Well, I suppose there¡¯s Miranda¡¯s mother, but she¡¯s the only one that comes to mind.¡±


    ¡°You know about that situation?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. I know. Wayde told me about it when it all happened.¡±


    ¡°When was this?¡±


    ¡°Two years ago, when Miranda came to school here. There was a big fight, a lot of drama. Trev felt terrible about it. He decided that if Miranda¡¯s mother was going to write her off, then he would take her in.¡±


    ¡°Was that when he created the will favoring her?¡±


    ¡°I warned him that was too much. Anyone would object if someone who was practically a stranger did something like that, and Miranda did object at first, but I think she was too shy to talk him out of it.¡±


    All the air seemed to waft out of me. My empty lungs couldn¡¯t decide if I was supposed to be breathing in or exhaling.


    Darius let the words settle, then said, in a far more calm voice than I could have managed, ¡°He told Miranda about this?¡±


    Frost nodded.


    The vampire was motionless for another second, then he leaned back in his chair.


    ¡°Was Wayde fond of Miranda?¡±


    ¡°He was excited to meet her, and he really wanted to get to know her. Thank goodness, she also happened to be about the sweetest girl in the world. That worked out for both of them. Once she told him she was going to change her major, they even talked about her moving in to save some money.¡±


    ¡°Why would her major matter?¡±


    ¡°When she was an anthropology major, it was a lot more important to keep their relationship professional, to avoid accusations of favoritism.¡±


    ¡°Was Wayde upset when Miranda changed her major to psychology?¡±


    ¡°At first he was disappointed, but he came around. Last time we were together, he joked with her about how the first thing she¡¯d learn was that she was crazy to leave anthropology. ¡®Dead people are much easier to study. They don¡¯t contradict you.¡¯¡±


    The vampire faked a smile to show his appreciation for the joke. ¡°Professor,¡± he said, ¡°you weren¡¯t at the Dead End Club on the night Wayde was killed, were you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a member.¡±


    ¡°Did Wayde not invite you?¡±


    ¡°He did, once. Way back when he formed the club.¡±


    ¡°You refused him?¡±


    ¡°I was busy at the time, then they were already established.¡± Frost shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t mind. I wasn¡¯t really one of them anyway. I still have some hope for my career.¡±


    ¡°Do you know anything about an appointment he had that night¡ªaside from the club?¡±


    Frost froze, then breathed out, ¡°An appointment? Is that why he was home?¡±


    ¡°You seem surprised,¡± the vampire observed.


    ¡°I am surprised. I was surprised. When the police told me when he died, I knew he was supposed to be at his club. I couldn¡¯t understand it.¡±


    ¡°Then you don¡¯t know who he was meeting?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t Miranda, was it?¡±


    ¡°Miss St. John said she was in the library, studying.¡±


    ¡°Then, I¡¯m sorry, but I can¡¯t help you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. You said you knew about the fake Egyptian scroll?¡±


    Frost hesitated, then said, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I need you to tell me everything you know about it.¡±


    The professor shrugged, but it was a squirmy shrug that lifted one shoulder before the other. ¡°What can I say? I don¡¯t know much. Trev appeared with it one day. He handed it to me¡ªis it real or is it fake? I told him it was fake. Easy. The writing system didn¡¯t match the condition of the papyrus, and if it had been real, he wouldn¡¯t have let me touch it.¡±


    Frost stopped talking and shrugged again.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Yes, I think so.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t see it again?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I saw it when I went over to his house.¡±


    ¡°How many people knew about the scroll?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell you. Lots of people, probably. He didn¡¯t keep it a secret.¡±


    ¡°Did Kiel know about it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Boom!¡± I said. ¡°Mic drop.¡±


    Both men stopped what they were doing to stare at me.


    ¡°It¡¯s just, you seemed uncomfortable talking about the scroll, Professor,¡± I explained, ¡°but there was no hesitation there, no filler words¡ªjust ¡®no.¡¯ Kiel doesn¡¯t know about it. It seemed out of place.¡±


    ¡°Did it?¡± Frost said.


    ¡°She has a point,¡± Darius said. ¡°How can you be so certain that Wayde didn¡¯t take the scroll to Kiel?¡±


    ¡°You already know that their relationship wasn¡¯t the best.¡±


    ¡°Someone told me that reading ancient Egyptian is a rare talent,¡± I said.


    The vampire decided to offer the poor man some mercy. ¡°Professor, the Dead Enders have already told us about Wayde helping students with problem artifacts.¡±


    Frost¡¯s face fell. He murmured, ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Was the scroll a problem artifact?¡±


    The professor looked up. ¡°Yes. A student gave it to him.¡±


    ¡°Gave it to him? As in, he didn¡¯t buy it?¡±


    ¡°No. He said they wanted to get rid of it.¡±


    ¡°Did he say why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±


    ¡°Did the student steal it from someone?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s possible, but Trev checked on things like that. If it was stolen, no matter who stole it, he always encouraged the student to give it back, and if he knew it was stolen, he never would have kept it.¡±


    ¡°Do you know which student gave it to him?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone would know. Trev made it a point to never reveal who brought him the artifacts. The whole reason he was doing it was to protect them. And, before you ask me again, Agent Vasil, that¡¯s why I¡¯m so certain that Kiel doesn¡¯t know about the scroll. Trev never would have taken it to him.¡±


    ¡°Did Wayde seem interested in the scroll?¡±


    ¡°Not more than normal.¡±


    ¡°Did anyone else show an interest in the scroll?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°To the best of your knowledge, did Wayde ever try to have the scroll translated?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, Agent, all he did was drop it on his bookshelf and bring it out every now and then to have people guess whether it was real or not! He didn¡¯t think it was important.¡±


    The vampire watched him.


    ¡°Was it important?¡± the professor asked.


    ¡°It was important enough someone decided to steal it.¡±


    ¡°Someone stole it? Are¡­are you sure? Are you sure it isn¡¯t lost in the mess?¡±


    ¡°My colleague¡±¡ªhe motioned to me¡ª¡°was there when it happened. We saw it before the theft. She saw it in the thief¡¯s hand. We couldn¡¯t find it afterward. Is that compelling enough for you, Professor?¡±


    ¡°But that makes no sense!¡±


    Darius raised an eyebrow.


    Frost added, ¡°Why would someone steal a fake scroll?¡±


    ¡°That was something I hoped you could tell me.¡±


    The professor blew out his breath and raised both hands in a shrug.


    ¡°Is there anyone who might think it was valuable?¡± Darius asked.


    Frost fell silent.


    ¡°Professor?¡±


    Frost said, ¡°Anyone who knew it was in Trev¡¯s study should have known that it was worthless.¡±


    ¡°Is there a reason someone wouldn¡¯t want us to find the scroll?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± The professor stopped.


    ¡°Could they have been trying to protect Wayde?¡± I asked. ¡°If he wasn¡¯t supposed to have it¡ª¡±


    The professor shook his head while staring at a spot on the wall. ¡°Wayde shouldn¡¯t have gotten into any real trouble over having it. He didn¡¯t even buy it this time.¡± Frost lowered his head to look at us. ¡°But if you¡¯re investigating counterfeit artifacts, there¡¯s a chance that the student who gave it to him might not want you to find it.¡±


    ¡°That would only be true if the scroll could be traced back to them,¡± Vasil said.


    Frost looked troubled, but he nodded.


    Darius ran his thumb over his jaw, then sat up in his chair. ¡°Thank you for taking time out to talk to us, Professor Frost.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Frost glanced at his phone. ¡°I¡¯m late again. Sorry to rush you out, but I have to go.¡±


    He stood up and grabbed a pile of papers and the messenger bag hanging from his chair. We left his office together. He wished us a good afternoon and wandered down the hall.


    Darius turned the other way. He walked so fast, I had to jog to catch up to him.


    ¡°Are we in a hurry?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We are.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I have a hunch about something.¡±


    ¡°What kind of hunch?¡±


    ¡°One without any supporting evidence. Unfortunately.¡±


    We went back to Wayde¡¯s office. The count opened the door and stepped inside. ¡°Good morning again, Mr. Summer. May I have a moment of your time?¡±

 Chapter 27 - A Talk with Summer

    Summer grumbled, ¡°More questions, Agent Vasil?¡±


    I made sure the door was shut behind us.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know Wayde all that well. Unless you¡¯re hoping to learn his opinion on Aztec religious rites, I¡¯m not sure what I can tell you.¡±


    ¡°My questions aren¡¯t about Wayde.¡±


    Summer stopped typing and looked up. Darius was watching him with what I was starting to think of as his ¡°inquisition stare.¡± When Summer saw it, he realized this was serious. He shut the lid to his laptop, crossed his arms, and waited.


    Darius said, ¡°Two days ago, the fake Egyptian scroll was stolen from Wayde¡¯s house.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Summer sounded indifferent.


    ¡°Can you think of why anyone would want to steal a fake scroll?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Not a single idea?¡±


    ¡°None at all, Agent. The thing¡¯s worthless.¡±


    ¡°Miss Cole wondered if it was to protect Wayde.¡±


    ¡°Wayde¡¯s dead. There¡¯s not much point in protecting him.¡±


    ¡°But what if it was about protecting the person who originally owned it?¡±


    ¡°Why would they need protection?¡±


    ¡°Because archaeologists and anthropologists aren¡¯t supposed to buy artifacts without the proper paperwork. As the son of a prominent archaeologist, I thought you would have known that. Since the scroll was fake, even if the person who bought it thought it was real, it couldn¡¯t have had paperwork.¡±


    Summer smirked. ¡°Do you know what the punishment is for buying a fake scroll? A slap on the wrist.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what the punishment is for smuggling an undeclared artifact into the country?¡±


    The smirk vanished.


    Darius said, ¡°More than a slap on the wrist, I think.¡±


    ¡°What makes you think it was smuggled in?¡± Summer asked. ¡°For all you know, someone¡¯s great-grandfather bought it in Cairo, Illinois.¡±


    ¡°Then it wouldn¡¯t have been worth stealing. But the papyrus was real, and the Late Egyptian script was accurate, even if the scroll, as a whole, was supposed to be older than it was. I think it would be easier to get something like that in Egypt¡ªbut maybe you could tell me.¡±


    There was a short silence.


    ¡°Were you ever in Egypt, Mr. Summer?¡±


    ¡°I was.¡±


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    ¡°Would it be easier to find something like that over there?¡±


    Louis returned Darius¡¯s stare with one of his own. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I can imagine their frustration. They must have smuggled in the scroll, hoping to make a decent profit, but it turned out to be fake. All that risk for nothing. Of course they¡¯d want to get rid of it. If it was ever found in their possession, there would be some awkward questions about how they got it. But then Wayde was killed, and some nosy FBI agent was looking around for counterfeit artifacts.¡±


    The two men watched each other, their faces, impassive. World championship poker games had more animation.


    ¡°It¡¯s easy to see why they¡¯d panic,¡± Darius said.


    Suspicion had been churning through my sleep deprived brain for a while, but that was the moment I finally finished connecting the dots. My eyes did a swift once-over Summer to calculate his height, his weight, and about how fast he could run.


    ¡°You kicked me!¡± I yelled.


    Louis scratched his forehead, then looked at me.


    ¡°You jerk! That hurt.¡± I moved away from the door. ¡°I¡¯m going to have a scar all down my leg because of you!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Summer said.


    I pointed at him. ¡°You owe me sixty bucks for a new pair of jeans.¡±


    ¡°Emerra,¡± Darius said.


    I stepped back, folded my arms, and glared.


    The count said, ¡°Would you care to comment, Mr. Summer?¡±


    ¡°On what? Your random theories or your assistant¡¯s hysterical accusations?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m inviting you to tell me anything you want to.¡±


    ¡°I think you might be better off without your assistant.¡±


    I flushed. A ringing sound rose in my ears like a tide, and I pressed my fingers into my arms so hard, the skin around them turned white.


    Summer went on, ¡°I also think that what you¡¯re doing isn¡¯t proper procedure. If you think I¡¯ve done something, try to find some evidence and come back with a warrant. Otherwise, I¡¯m not interested in talking to you.¡±


    ¡°Under normal circumstances, that would be exactly what I¡¯d do,¡± Darius said, ¡°but this isn¡¯t a normal case. This is a murder investigation, and I think there¡¯s a chance you didn¡¯t kill Trevon Wayde.¡±


    Louis Summer paled. A few seconds were strangled for as much silence as could be wrung from them, then he said, ¡°The scroll had nothing to do with Professor Wayde¡¯s murder.¡±


    ¡°Do you know that?¡±


    ¡°It was fake! No one would kill a man over a fake scroll.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your current occupation?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a part-time construction worker.¡±


    ¡°Builder?¡±


    ¡°Demolition and cleaning.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯d be normal for you to drive around with a crowbar in your trunk?¡±


    Summer¡¯s mouth slammed shut. He pressed his lips together.


    ¡°Did you steal the scroll from Wayde¡¯s study?¡± Darius asked.


    Summer opened his laptop. ¡°I have nothing to say to you.¡±


    ¡°Do you still have the scroll, Mr. Summer?¡±


    ¡°I have nothing to say to you.¡±


    The count sighed. Then he walked around the desk, pulled out a chair, and sat down so he was almost knee to knee with Summer. He put his elbows on his legs and leaned forward.


    ¡°Mr. Summer, someone was willing to shoot Professor Wayde in the chest, and I have reason to suspect that the scroll is far more important than you know.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°For your sake, I hope you¡¯re right. If I was able to figure out that you were the one who stole the scroll, then the murderer will be able to figure it out too.¡±


    Summer never looked away from his screen. ¡°Good day, Agent Vasil.¡±


    Count Vasil waited for another second, then stood up and came toward me. He put a hand on my arm and motioned to the door.


    When we were out in the hall, I said, ¡°Did he kill Wayde?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain, but I doubt it.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because, on the night Wayde died, the scroll was left there. Either it wasn¡¯t involved in the murder, therefore Summer wasn¡¯t involved in the murder, or the murderer didn¡¯t want us to know it was involved. If that was the case, then Summer wouldn¡¯t have stolen it.¡±


    ¡°But he did steal the scroll?¡±


    ¡°I think he did.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°I have no proof.¡±


    ¡°So, what? We just walk away?¡±


    ¡°For now. I have to talk to Detective Moran anyway¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because Miranda St. John lied to him.¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t kill her uncle!¡±


    ¡°Emerra¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you call her and ask her what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°I prefer to interrogate people in person, no matter how short the interview.¡±


    ¡°So you can tell if they¡¯re lying?¡±


    Vasil let out another sigh, ¡°Emerra, if it was that easy, we wouldn¡¯t be struggling so much with this case.¡±

 Chapter 28 - Wolfman Meets One-Punch

    After dinner I played with Kappa. The bog-creature must have been oozing out some kind of tonic to go with his natural sunscreen; being around him melted away all the stress I¡¯d picked up from the day. Around nine-thirty, he started getting sleepy, and I couldn¡¯t justify keeping him up to distract myself. Those lucky enough to be able to sleep should be allowed to sleep.


    After one last, moist hug, I told him goodnight and watched him pad off toward the wash room. My stomach sank a little more with every step he took.


    When he was gone, I turned and started toward the front stairs. My crawling pace stopped when I saw the flickering light coming from the open door of the TV room.


    I turned away from the stairs and went like a moth to the light.


    I peeked my head in. Conrad was sitting on the couch. One of his ears twitched toward me. I took that as an invitation to come in.


    Was that grasping at straws? Probably. Was I going to let that stop me from using up every possible excuse to avoid going to bed? Not a chance.


    Conrad was scrolling through Netflix.


    I stood behind the couch and looked over his head. ¡°What are you watching?¡±


    He didn¡¯t look around. ¡°I haven¡¯t decided yet.¡±


    ¡°May I join you?¡±


    For an answer, he scooted to one side of the couch.


    I skipped over, sat down, and pulled my legs up under my butt. ¡°You appear to be in the anime section.¡±


    He lowered the remote. ¡°They¡¯re all so weird.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Oh, dude. You have no idea. Do you like weird? I can show you weird.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather see good. Can you help me with that?¡± He tossed me the remote.


    ¡°Ohhh, I suppose, for a beginner, we can do something good. Do you like action?¡±


    After wasting several minutes quizzing him about his tastes in entertainment and getting almost nothing but shrugs, I decided to show him One-Punch Man. I figured it had the best chance of winning him over. It had comedy, action, and¡ªbecause I don¡¯t believe in going too easy on a beginner¡ªa healthy dose of weirdness.


    As it played, I¡¯d glance over at Conrad from time to time, to see if he liked it. It wasn¡¯t easy to tell, but I thought he was at least intrigued by it. His eyes were glued to the screen, and his ears were turned to it like two radar dishes.


    I cuddled into the corner of the couch, feeling all smug and content, to enjoy the show.


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    Two episodes in, my exhaustion started telling. By the forth episode, I was having trouble staying awake.


    ¡°Mera?¡±


    I roused myself with a deep breath and forced my eyes open. Conrad had paused the show. He was watching me.


    ¡°It¡¯s Emerra,¡± I muttered. I forced myself to sit upright.


    There was a brief silence, then Conrad said, ¡°Kappa calls you Mera.¡±


    ¡°Kappa is adorable. He¡¯s also hard to correct. Whenever I try to teach him to say my name, he chants it. Eee-mare-ah! He makes it sound like abracadabra. I feel like I should be in spangles.¡±


    Conrad chuckled, and it sounded exactly like a dog would chuckle¡ªa quiet noise coming from the throat and a chuff. I smiled in a sleepy kind of way.


    ¡°You can call me Mera,¡± I added. ¡°I don¡¯t mind. I just wanted to make sure you knew so you wouldn¡¯t be embarrassed later.¡± I put my elbow on the arm of the couch and propped my head up on my knuckles.


    ¡°Do we need to pause the show?¡±


    ¡°Show¡¯s already paused.¡±


    ¡°Do you need to go to bed?¡±


    No bed. Never mind that I was nodding with sleep. Bed was the enemy.


    I shook my head.


    He eyed me for another second, then looked back at the screen. ¡°Do you want to at least lay down?¡±


    ¡°Can we keep watching the show?¡±


    His dark lips curled up at the edge. ¡°Yeah, we can keep watching.¡±


    He moved down to the floor and leaned back against the couch. His long legs stretched almost all the way to the entertainment center. I curled up on the tiny couch so I could fit. With my head on the arm of the couch, I could look over Conrad¡¯s shoulder and see the screen.


    ¡°You good?¡± he asked.


    A cheerful ¡°hmm¡± was all I could muster for a reply.


    He pressed play.


    Each time my eyelids drifted shut, I forced them open with a dose of dread and some willpower. It was harder to make myself focus.


    ¡°Conrad,¡± I mumbled.


    One of his ears twitched toward me when he heard his name.


    ¡°Can I touch your fur?¡±


    For a moment, he was still. Then his broad shoulders shifted in a shrug, temporarily blocking my view of the show. ¡°I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    I patted the fur on top of his head. It was even thicker than it looked. There was some texture to it, but it was also deep, soft, and oh-so-nice to touch.


    My hand wandered over to one of his ears. I ran my fingers along the tiny hairs on the rim. When I got to the rounded tip, his ear involuntarily twitched out from under my touch. I smiled.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I lied.


    I returned my hand to his head and dug my fingers deeper into the fluff.


    ¡°You have a beautiful coat, Conrad. It¡¯s nice.¡±


    One or two more pats¡ªthen I needed to stop. No, really.


    With a wrench, I pulled my hand away and tucked it up by my face. There was a strange scent on it from his fur. It was musty and heavy¡ªif a smell can be heavy¡ªand it was so strange, my nose couldn¡¯t decide if it was a good smell or a bad smell.


    Through the haze of my fluttering eyelashes, I saw him shrug again. His low voice blended into the silence of my sleep.


    ¡°It keeps me warm¡­¡±


    There was darkness and peace.


    I don¡¯t know how long I was out for, but a sense of movement woke me. A flow of fur ran under my hand.


    ¡°Charlie?¡± I said.


    I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn¡¯t. There was more silence and a drowsy timelessness. Someone put a blanket over me, and I was gone.


    At first, I dreamed of dogs. Then the hospital. Then a crowded study where masks loomed. Wayde was sitting in front of me, a discolored corpse with red zig-zags on his chest.


    No.


    Wayde alive, sitting in front of me, his face, angry and sad and afraid. Wayde with bright red blood, saturating his clothes, burbling out from the hole.


    Alive again, that same face. Angry. Sorry. Afraid. There was a weight in my hands, pressing into my lap. The sound of a shot.


    I jerked out of my nightmare and landed on the floor.


    It wasn¡¯t a nice way to wake up, but it was enough of a shock, I was no longer sleepy.


    Conrad must have turned off the TV and gone to bed, so at least there was no one to watch me struggle to untangle myself from the blanket. Once I was free, I folded it up and tossed it over the back of the couch.


    My ears were still ringing when I left the room.

 Chapter 29 - Again

    Darius was leaning back in the library armchair with his eyes closed.


    He wasn¡¯t sleeping. He couldn¡¯t sleep while the sun was down, but he could rest.


    He took comfort from the quiet sounds of Iset working beside him, the paper shuffling, the muted clicks of her keyboard. However difficult the case, no matter how tired he was, at least he didn¡¯t have to work alone.


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    He felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw a skeleton gazing down on him with empty eye sockets.


    ¡°Darius, it¡¯s happened again.¡±

 Chapter 30 - Whos Charlie

    The next morning, I staggered down to coffee. As I poured, I wondered how many days it would take before I became an official addict.


    I sipped, made a face, and picked up the sugar container.


    Who was I kidding? I already had an addiction¡ªjust not to coffee.


    ¡°Thank you, Igor,¡± I grumbled as I walked over to the kitchen island.


    His back was to me, and he didn¡¯t turn around. ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°Sugar.¡±


    ¡°I neither grew it, nor processed it.¡±


    ¡°You moved it.¡±


    ¡°I transferred it into an easy-pour container because you don¡¯t seem to notice how much you go slopping around the counters until after your first cup of coffee. A spoon was too much for you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s such a delight to see your cheerful face each morning.¡±


    ¡°See? You¡¯re blind.¡±


    ¡°Breakfast?¡±


    ¡°The croissants have to finish baking.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! Is anyone else up, or do I get all of them?¡±


    ¡°Conrad is out in the yard.¡± Igor nodded toward the French doors at the back of the room. ¡°You can try to take his share, but I wouldn¡¯t advise it.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm.¡± I slid off my stool and headed toward the doors, coffee in hand. ¡°I wonder if I can talk him out of it.¡±


    ¡°Tell him they¡¯ll be ready in five minutes.¡±


    As soon as I was outside, the cold morning air bit through the shirt I was wearing. It was supposed to be a mild October day, but ¡°mild¡± had been defined by someone who owned a jacket. I curled around my warm mug and followed the sound of raking until I found the wolfman near the stone wall.


    ¡°Hey, Conrad! Can I have your croissants?¡±


    ¡°Not a chance.¡± He raised his pale yellow eyes to meet mine. ¡°But good morning.¡±


    He looked cheerful. It was probably all those pastries he was going to enjoy. The greedy butthead.


    ¡°Oh, fine,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Igor says they¡¯ll be ready in five minutes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good timing.¡± He grabbed a bag and started stuffing leaves.


    ¡°Would you like some help?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    I perched my mug on the wall and went over to hold the bag. The rich smell of the leaves did more to wake me up than the coffee.


    As Conrad worked, I said, ¡°Thanks for getting me the blanket last night.¡±


    ¡°No problem. You looked comfortable.¡± He shoved a few more armfuls into the bag, took it from me, then squashed them flat so we could add more. ¡°So who¡¯s Charlie?¡± He handed the bag back to me.


    His voice had been so normal, the bizarreness of the question didn¡¯t hit me at first. My brain stalled on the words, trying to fit them together like bad puzzle pieces. All the colors were correct, but the shapes were wonky.


    I gave up. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Charlie? You said his name last night, while you were dozing.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Oh! That was your fur?¡±


    His work stopped, and he glanced up at me with a furrowed brow and slight smile.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He returned to his work. ¡°You know a lot of people with fur?¡±


    ¡°But I distinctly remember, I stopped pet¡ªtouching your fur.¡± I hesitated. ¡°Right?¡±


    He pressed down the latest armful of leaves.


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    While I tied off the bag, Conrad stood up and folded his arms. ¡°You toss a bit in your sleep.¡±


    My cheeks went bright pink.


    Sure. Tossing. That sounded much better than ¡°you recklessly hone in on anything fluffy while unconscious.¡±


    I handed him the bag. The thing was heavy, but he picked it up like it was full of air.


    ¡°Charlie was a friend,¡± I said.


    Conrad walked over to the wall and put the bag in a pile with the others. ¡°Were you close?¡±


    My cheeks went from bright pink to fuchsia. ¡°You could say that.¡± I let out a discreet cough. ¡°He was a therapy dog I used to know.¡±


    Conrad turned. ¡°What?¡±


    I studied the ground like I was taking an advanced course on dead leaves. So fascinating. ¡°A therapy dog. You know¡ªthey bring them into the hospital to cheer up sick patients? Charlie was this big ol¡¯ beast of a dog. We used to joke that he was part German shepherd, part bear.¡±


    ¡°And this was your close friend?¡±


    ¡°Well, he was supposed to be friendly with everyone, but, really¡±¡ªI tapped my chest¡ª¡°I was his favorite. Sometimes, if he needed a break, his owner would let him hang out in my room, and we¡¯d nap together. He¡¯d toss his head and yank out half my electric leads. Then we¡¯d both get in trouble.¡±


    I stopped. Conrad had bowed his head and looked off to the side. I was watching him, trying to figure out what was going on, when I heard the quiet sound of his peculiar laugh.


    He raised his head, and his eyes met mine.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been mistaken for a monster a lot of times, but this is the first time I¡¯ve ever been mistaken for a pet.¡±


    With that fatal dose of embarrassment, I decided it would be a good time to die again. I was looking around for somewhere to deposit my unworthy carcass when Conrad handed me another bag.


    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s finish this before we go in for breakfast.¡±


    Right. Fresh-baked croissants. That sounded like a good enough reason to live. I split the top of the bag and whipped it open.


    While Conrad was filling it, he said, ¡°You let him sleep on your hospital bed?¡±


    ¡°He was cozy!¡± All right. Maybe I sounded a bit defensive.


    ¡°Do you miss him?¡±


    A murmur of sorrow rolled through me. ¡°Yeah. He was a big comfort to me. It was hard to say goodbye when I transferred to the hospice.¡±


    I thought about my nightmares and how much I wouldn¡¯t mind a little comfort these days.


    I felt a hand touch my elbow. It was Conrad. He¡¯d tied off the bag and slung it over his shoulder.


    ¡°Croissants you said?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I smiled. ¡°Igor¡¯s amazing, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget your coffee.¡±


    I dodged over to the wall to grab my mug, then I followed Conrad into the kitchen.


    All through breakfast, I kept waiting for Darius to show up and drag me away. The threat of it forced me to eat quickly, but since he didn¡¯t show up, it left me with a lot of time to nurse my coffee and regret not savoring my pastry.


    ¡°Mera?¡± Conrad said.


    I turned back to the table. ¡°Have you seen Darius this morning?¡±


    It was Igor who answered: ¡°Vasil went out early.¡±


    ¡°He left without me?¡±


    ¡°I would assume so, since he¡¯s gone and you¡¯re still here.¡±


    ¡°Did he say he was going to take you?¡± Conrad asked.


    As a matter of fact, he had not. But I had assumed that was an oversight¡ªwhich, I realized, was stupid. It wasn¡¯t like Darius couldn¡¯t get along without his hysterical assistant.


    But a small part of me was sad that he knew that.


    ¡°You need to see Iset,¡± Igor said.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°You need to see Iset,¡± he repeated. ¡°Last night, she told Vasil that she needed you for a few hours this morning¡±¡ªIgor¡¯s voice rose slightly, to demonstrate that he was quoting¡ª¡°¡®unless your presence was critical.¡¯¡±


    ¡°And Darius didn¡¯t object?¡±


    Wow. That small part of me was really optimistic.


    ¡°It was Iset who made the request.¡±


    ¡°Okaaay.¡± I knew Igor meant something by that, but I had no idea what it could be.


    He elaborated, ¡°Weaker men give orders and are sometimes obeyed. Iset makes requests, and all move to heed her.¡±


    I glanced at Conrad. There was a slight smile on his muzzle.


    ¡°Is she a queen?¡± I asked¡ªwell, more like prodded, as someone would prod a strange new concept: carefully, and with a long stick.


    ¡°She would say no,¡± Conrad said.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°You know that bald guy from last night?¡±


    ¡°You mean Saitama? The main character?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Him. You know how he doesn¡¯t quite get how impressive he is to other people?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s like that.¡±


    I grinned and scooted toward Conrad. ¡°How did you like the show?¡±


    Conrad shrugged. ¡°I was planning on finishing it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t watch it without me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t watch it without me!¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t you already seen it?¡±


    ¡°So? Promise me.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    I skipped up from my chair. Igor was watching me, both eyes almost facing me.


    ¡°What have you done to the poor boy?¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve introduced him to anime!¡±


    Igor shook his head and turned his attention back to the dishes in the sink. ¡°It¡¯s worse than I imagined.¡± His smaller eye fixed on me. ¡°Emerra, what¡¯s your favorite cake?¡±


    I thought about it. ¡°Is ¡®yes, please, all of them¡¯ an option?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Then chocolate. Do we get cake today?¡±


    ¡°If all goes well.¡±


    I bounced on my toes and raised both fists in the air. Through my giddy joy, I couldn¡¯t even hear the part of me that felt sorry for myself. I was getting cake!


    I went over to the library to present myself to the queen.


    Iset looked up when she heard me enter.


    ¡°Good morning, Emerra. You look happy.¡±


    ¡°We get cake today.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it. I¡¯m sorry I had to steal you away from Darius, but there¡¯s one or two practical matters that we should deal with sooner rather than later.¡±


    A sudden slice of nerves stole through me. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    The mummy picked up a blue measuring tape from the other side of her laptop and put it on the desk, close to me.


    ¡°Your clothes. We need to at least get a basic wardrobe ordered, along with some warmer clothes for when winter sets in. We don¡¯t have to find them all today, but the sooner we get them ordered, the sooner they¡¯ll arrive.¡±


    My chest churned with a number of emotions. I liked shopping¡ªeven online shopping¡ªbut I was still uncomfortable with the idea of someone giving me a closet full of new clothes. On the other hand¡­


    ¡°Olivia wants her clothes back, doesn¡¯t she?¡± I said.


    ¡°I think the more relevant question is, do you really want to keep wearing them?¡±


    Her majesty had a darn good point.

 Chapter 31 - The Body in the Ravine

    An autumn wind rolled through the canyon, causing the beige reeds to sway among the stained rocks. What little water was left in the streambed trickled around the body, carrying wisps of red away from what remained of Louis Summer¡¯s skull.


    Jack Noctis stood nearby, watching the trail of blood as it grew thinner and thinner, then disappeared.


    Darius came to stand beside him.


    ¡°Well?¡± Jacky said.


    ¡°It¡¯s meant to look like a suicide. His car is still up on the road. The doors are unlocked, and the keys are in the ignition. I searched the area, but I couldn¡¯t find any trace of another person.¡±


    ¡°He may have killed himself, but he couldn¡¯t have sealed or destroyed his own soul. Someone else must have been here.¡±


    ¡°I know, but I¡¯ll be surprised if the police are able to prove it.¡±


    ¡°Did you search the car?¡±


    ¡°Every inch of it.¡±


    ¡°The scroll?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing, Jacky.¡±


    Noctis looked back at the body. ¡°We should have brought Emerra.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already contacted the Torr. They¡¯re sending someone over¡ªand they¡¯ll be trained.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be Emerra Cole.¡±


    ¡°Between you, me, and the witch, we can see anything she can.¡±


    ¡°Olivia said that Emerra could see the nilrunes as she was writing them.¡±


    For a moment, the only sound was the water and the wind.


    ¡°Can you see them?¡± Noctis asked.


    ¡°For god¡¯s sake, Jacky! Emerra doesn¡¯t need to see this.¡±


    ¡°You think it would bother her?¡±


    ¡°I know it would bother her. And I know she would lie about it. If she didn¡¯t see anything when you took her to Wayde¡¯s house, what makes you think she¡¯ll see anything this time?¡±


    Noctis didn¡¯t answer.


    Vasil took a breath. ¡°This whole mess is complicated enough. It¡¯ll be hard to act until someone reports the body to the police.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll report the body.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve told you, you can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Then the witch?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to the Torr to see if I can arrange something.¡±


    ¡°I know what that means. We don¡¯t have time for something to be arranged. We need to act now.¡±


    ¡°The scroll is probably gone.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a chance it isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t stop you, Jacky. You know that. Please, don¡¯t disarrange anything, and if you find something, report it to me.¡±


    ¡°If I find the scroll, I¡¯m taking it.¡±


    ¡°If you do that, you¡¯ll be obstructing justice.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be hindering the murderer¡¯s legal punishment. Justice says that no one deserves to lose their soul.¡±


    Darius rubbed his forehead. It was always like this, working with Jack Noctis. The only surprising thing was that, after a hundred years, he still hadn¡¯t gotten used to it.


    The vampire said, ¡°Please promise me that you won¡¯t remove anything but the scroll.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t remove anything unless you have good reason to believe it¡¯s directly responsible for the missing souls!¡±


    Big Jacky thought for a moment, then nodded.


    ¡°And I want your word, here and now, that you won¡¯t bring Emerra to see this.¡± When Noctis didn¡¯t immediately answer, Darius added, ¡°For her sake.¡±


    ¡°I give you my word.¡±

 Chapter 32 - Summers Apartment

    Life after death is funny sometimes. One minute, I¡¯m shopping for sneakers while sitting side by side with a mummy, the next minute I¡¯m being dragged through a locked door by a walking skeleton and told to look around a dead man¡¯s apartment.


    When Jacky had announced that Louis Summer was dead and his soul was missing, my head had filled with a dull murk that lasted the entire drive to his apartment. I wasn¡¯t mourning him or anything¡ªit was the suddenness that left me feeling stunned. I was used to death being drawn out and anticipated. The fact I had been glaring at Summer only the day before, and now he was gone, was frightening.


    I stood inside the front door of his apartment, hardly seeing anything.


    ¡°Emerra.¡±


    I managed to focus on Noctis.


    ¡°Be careful not to touch anything,¡± he said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Jacky. I kind of figured we weren¡¯t supposed to be here about the time we came in without touching the door knob. Besides, I don¡¯t think Summer¡¯s going to notice we broke in.¡±


    ¡°This place is going to become part of a police investigation. Do you want them to find your fingerprints here?¡±


    I jammed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and grabbed onto the material for good measure. ¡°I take it we¡¯re looking for the scroll?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re looking for anything that could explain two missing souls. Stay beside me. I¡¯ll move everything around.¡±


    ¡°What about your fingerprints?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any.¡±


    For a second, I stared at the end of his jacket sleeve, hovering over the bones of his wrist. Then I shook my head. I could ask him about it later. I had enough to deal with.


    We started with the coats hanging by the front door. Big Jacky turned out everything and checked all the pockets before moving on. Each shoe on the floor was inspected. Every letter on his side table was turned over. I felt like I should be taking notes. This was the ultimate system for finding something you lost.


    Not that I had anything to lose. Except my¡ª


    Shoot.


    I¡¯d left my phone on the desk next to Iset.


    ¡°Are you watching?¡± Jacky asked.


    I returned my attention to the drawer he was rifling through. ¡°Jacky, why haven¡¯t the police been here already?¡±


    ¡°The police aren¡¯t aware that Summer is dead, and I¡¯m not supposed to call it in. Darius says that if someone over a hundred years old reports too many dead bodies, it makes people uncomfortable. And if the scroll is here, I¡¯d rather we find it first.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    He shut the drawer, and we moved into the living room.


    ¡°Does that mean that you sensed Summer¡¯s death?¡±


    ¡°It registered with me. Before I could figure out exactly who it was that had died, the soul was gone. I was there ten minutes later, but whoever else had been there had already left.¡±


    ¡°Do¡­do you want me to look at the body?¡±


    ¡°I gave Darius my word that I wouldn¡¯t have you do that.¡±


    Zap! Everything stopped. Brain function. Heartbeat. Lungs. Jacky¡¯s words pinged around my cavernous skull like a drunk bat trying to find somewhere to roost. The optimistic part of me from that morning threw up its hands and left.


    ¡°Emerra?¡±


    I forced myself to take a breath. ¡°Sorry. Got distracted there for a second.¡±


    ¡°Nothing so far?¡±


    I shook my head.


    We made it all the way to Summer¡¯s bedroom before I worked up the courage to say, ¡°Jacky, why did Darius ask you not to show me the body?¡±


    ¡°I think ¡®insisted¡¯ would be a better word. He was quite adamant about it. Given his passion and the remote chance of you seeing anything, I decided it¡¯d be wiser to capitulate.¡± He started repacking the box we had finished inspecting.


    ¡°Okay. Sure. Why did he insist that you not show me the body?¡±


    ¡°He said it would bother you. I believe he¡¯s worried that sudden exposure to a gruesome death might affect you somehow.¡±


    Jacky¡¯s voice was off-hand. It was clear he had no context for the idea; he was only repeating the nonsense he¡¯d been told by others. To be fair, it was hard to imagine him being ruffled by any kind of death. Big Jacky had probably seen them all.


    The absurdity of it was almost enough to make me smile. Almost.


    ¡°How did Summer die?¡±


    Noctis stood up and put the box back in the closet. ¡°Sudden deceleration.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Sudden deceleration after an eighty-five foot drop. Also, there were rocks. Redundant, I think. The impact alone should have been enough. But, I suppose, if you wanted to guarantee the skull wouldn¡¯t remain intact¡­¡± He shrugged.


    A violent shiver shook me from head to toe.


    Maybe the vampire was on to something¡ªbut he could have asked.


    ¡°Did he jump or was he pushed?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± Noctis reached for the box in the corner. ¡°This is the last one.¡±


    The last box, in the last closet, in the last room, and we had found nothing. Jacky had warned me that we probably wouldn¡¯t find anything, but I couldn¡¯t help feeling disappointed.


    Noctis unpacked the box, one item at a time, and laid them out on the bed beside the box. It was a typical collection of junk that you might find in a college student¡¯s closet. There was an old toy starship, an even older stuffed dog, a flint arrowhead that looked like it had been bought in a museum gift shop, a few pictures that Summer had never bothered to put out, and a pile of worn paperbacks. Their spines were cobwebbed with lines, showing how much they¡¯d been read. Each one was a sword and sorcery fantasy.


    The collection made me feel sad. Louis Summer may have been a jerk who died still owing me sixty bucks, but these sentimental treasures gave him a past and a personality I never would have seen otherwise.


    Jacky pulled out a wadded up T-shirt.


    Favorite band, I thought.


    I was wrong.


    Noctis unfolded the shirt, picked up the handgun, and laid it to the side like it was just another toy. He flipped the shirt around to make sure there was nothing else there, then he turned the box upside down and shook it.


    ¡°That¡¯s everything,¡± he said.


    And I swear he would have repacked it all without a second thought if I hadn¡¯t grabbed his sleeve.


    ¡°You see something?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Do you not see the gun?¡±


    He gazed down at the weapon, then turned his empty eye sockets to me. ¡°What about it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a gun, Jacky. Those matter.¡±


    ¡°Lots of people in this country have guns.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but those people aren¡¯t involved in a murder investigation where the victim was shot in the chest! We need to tell Darius about this as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°You can call him while I put everything back.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t call him. I left my phone at the mansion.¡±


    Jacky¡¯s hand went to his jacket pocket. Then his pants pocket. His other hand joined the search. A few seconds later, he let his jacket fall back to his shoulders. As he straightened his suit, he cleared the throat he didn¡¯t have.


    ¡°Exactly how urgent do you think it is to let Darius know about this gun?¡±

 Chapter 33 - Interrogating Miranda

    Miranda St. John was in the interrogation room. Her face was drawn and pale, and her hands were clenched together on the small table in front of her. She sat on the edge of her chair and stared at Moran as he paced the room, talking to her. Darius Vasil was sitting in a chair at the side of the table, watching.


    ¡°Why did that policeman call Darius a suit model when I quite clearly told him he was an FBI agent?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Jacky,¡± I mumbled.


    The skeleton beside me was quiet for a moment. I still couldn¡¯t hear what Moran was saying inside the room.


    ¡°Should we knock?¡± Jacky whispered.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Emerra, I have places that I need to be, and I can¡¯t leave the car with you.¡±


    ¡°Then leave me here. I can tell Darius when he comes out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    I glared right into his eye sockets. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Darius¡­¡±


    ¡°Darius what?¡±


    ¡°Darius might not want¡­¡±


    ¡°What? He might not want me here?¡± My voice rose. ¡°Well, that¡¯s tough.¡±


    The vampire raise his head. I was outside the room, behind the one-way glass¡ªhe shouldn¡¯t have been able to see me¡ªbut his eyes fixed on my position.


    ¡°He heard you,¡± Jacky said.


    Vasil stood up. As he passed Moran, he put his hand on the detective¡¯s shoulder and muttered something in his ear.


    ¡°If you¡¯re certain you want to stay, then I think I¡¯ll take my leave,¡± Noctis said. ¡°Good day, Emerra.¡±


    His instantaneous exit left nothing but a pit of silence and an empty spot beside me.


    Coward.


    Darius opened the door to the interrogation room and came out. The door clicked shut behind him.


    ¡°Emerra, how did you get in here?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Jacky brought me. Why are you interrogating Miranda?¡±


    ¡°Why were you with Jacky?¡±


    ¡°He took me over to see Summer¡¯s apartment.¡±


    Darius put a hand up to his forehead and grit his teeth hard enough I thought I saw a glimpse of fang. I might have felt some sympathy for his frustration, but I was too busy feeling pissed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I said. ¡°He didn¡¯t show me the body.¡±


    The vampire glanced at me. I had put on my flintiest and most guilt-inducing expression. Vasil had tried to leave me out. I knew it, and I was going to make sure he knew I knew it. I might have been a lousy liar, but that meant I was second to none when it came to being expressive.


    The count¡¯s expression softened. A quiet sigh escaped through his nose. ¡°Did you touch anything?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. My hands were in my pockets the whole time.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Jacky warned me about fingerprints. And I was extra careful not to leave any stray hairs at the scene.¡±


    His eyes flicked up to my bald head. He didn¡¯t laugh, but his cheek twitched up a bit. ¡°Did you find the scroll?¡±


    ¡°No, but we found a gun.¡±


    ¡°What kind of gun?¡±


    ¡°A hand gun.¡±


    ¡°What model?¡±


    ¡°Ha! Do I look like I know a lot about guns?¡±


    ¡°Can you describe it?¡±


    I held up my hands to show the general size. ¡°Black. Blocky. Bigger than I thought it would be.¡±


    The count grunted. ¡°I¡¯ll have to arrange for the police to find the body soon. That¡¯s probably the gun that killed Wayde. ¡±


    The same thought had popped into my head when I saw it in Summer¡¯s apartment. I didn¡¯t like it then, and I liked it even less when I heard Darius say it.


    ¡°Do you think Summer killed Wayde?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Did Jacky tell you how Summer died?¡±


    ¡°He said it was a sudden deceleration after a big drop.¡±


    ¡°He fell from a bridge spanning a ravine. It was tucked away in the woods. Summer would have had to drive three hours to get there.¡±


    ¡°Is that unusual for a suicide?¡±


    ¡°Not particularly. What would be unusual is if he called up a friend to come along to take care of his soul afterward. Someone else was there, so there¡¯s a good chance it wasn¡¯t a suicide. If someone went through all that trouble to make it look like one, it¡¯s easy for me to imagine them leaving a murder weapon in Summer¡¯s apartment. It¡¯d give Summer a plausible motive for killing himself.¡±


    ¡°You think he was framed?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know yet. All I¡¯m saying is that it¡¯s possible.¡±


    ¡°Cool. Now why are you interrogating Miranda?¡±


    He stared at me for a while.


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± he said. ¡°Detective Moran is.¡±


    ¡°Because you told him she lied.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to apologize for that, Emerra. She lied during a murder investigation.¡±


    I pointed a lazy finger at him. ¡°But surely that means you¡¯ve already told Detective Moran about Louis Summer. I mean, you wouldn¡¯t hide anything from him, now would you?¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°That¡¯s different and you know it.¡±


    ¡°Why? Because you¡¯re the one doing it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m doing it to protect Jacky¡¯s identity. Miranda St. John lied to make herself look less suspicious.¡±


    My mouth gaped. A moment later, I shut it and gazed down at my boots. I nudged the line between the floor tiles. It didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Since you¡¯re here,¡± Vasil said, ¡°would you like to listen in?¡±


    ¡°Please.¡±


    He reached up to a switch high on the wall and flicked it up.


    Moran¡¯s voice came through the speaker: ¡°¡ªdon¡¯t see how it can be anything else.¡±


    ¡°Keep an eye on her,¡± Darius said to me.


    I obediently faced the room.


    When the count reentered the interrogation room, Moran paused. The vampire crossed over to the chair beside the table, sat down, and nodded to the detective.


    Moran turned back to Miranda. ¡°It¡¯s a simple question¡ªwould you like to look me in the eyes and tell me that Ryan Frost lied?¡±


    Miranda lowered her head and pressed her lips together until they all but disappeared.


    ¡°It could be him in here,¡± the detective added. ¡°It¡¯s kind of a he-said, she-said situation, but I assure you, we¡¯ll get to the bottom of it.¡±


    Miranda still said nothing.


    The detective sighed. ¡°I thought you liked Professor Frost¡ª¡±


    Her head jerked up. ¡°I do like Frost.¡±


    Moran held up both hands. ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. He¡¯s your uncle¡¯s best friend and all. I would hope you like him¡­but if he¡¯s lying about you¡­¡±


    St. John put a hand up to cover her face. ¡°He¡¯s not lying,¡± she muttered into her palm.


    ¡°Come again?¡±


    ¡°Frost isn¡¯t lying. I knew.¡±


    Moran put his hands in his pants pockets, making his sports coat splay out to the sides. ¡°Hmm. I wondered. You always seemed like an honest girl. Maybe you didn¡¯t understand the question when I asked you the first time. It¡¯s stressful¡ªI get it. But now we can talk about it.¡±


    He grabbed the chair across from Miranda, pulled it out, and sat down.


    He said, ¡°Are you ready to talk about it, Miss St. John?¡±


    Miranda nodded. Tears gathered on her lashes despite her closed eyes.


    ¡°Did you know that Trevon Wayde had remade his will in favor of you?¡±


    Maybe it was only a friendly cop routine, but I was glad his voice was gentle.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°When did he tell you?¡±


    She sniffed. ¡°After he changed it.¡±


    ¡°We need a timeline, Miss St. John.¡±


    ¡°Almost two years ago?¡±


    ¡°How long after you arrived?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°About a month.¡±


    ¡°Why did he change it?¡±


    Miranda had to swallow before she could answer. ¡°He said I was his family.¡±


    ¡°Was it because of your mother?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°Does your mother know he changed his will?¡± Moran asked.


    Through clenched teeth, Miranda said, ¡°My mother isn¡¯t talking to me. That¡¯s why I needed a family.¡±


    ¡°What did you think when he told you about the will?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what to think. I didn¡¯t know him.¡± She let out a brief, hollow laugh. Two tears ran down her cheeks. ¡°It was so like him¡ªimpulsive, excited. I didn¡¯t think it would matter. He wasn¡¯t old. He could change his mind whenever he wanted.¡±


    She pressed her lips together again.


    ¡°Why did you lie to us?¡± Moran asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a reason to lie to the police.¡±


    ¡°I promise you, I didn¡¯t kill him¡ªbut I didn¡¯t have an alibi, and I inherit everything.¡± Her voice gave out. All she could do was shake her head.


    ¡°So you lied to us.¡±


    ¡°I was scared.¡±


    ¡°When you first arrived at college, you declared yourself an anthropology major,¡± Darius said.


    Miranda nodded.


    ¡°Then you changed your mind.¡±


    Another nod.


    ¡°How long did you wait to tell Professor Wayde?¡±


    Miranda said nothing.


    Vasil raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you going to lie to us again, Miss St. John?¡±


    ¡°A half a year.¡±


    Moran looked at the vampire. Darius jerked his head in a quick nod.


    The detective turned back to Miranda. ¡°Why did you wait so long to tell him? Were you afraid he¡¯d disinherit you?


    ¡°It¡¯s a hang up,¡± Miranda muttered.


    ¡°What?¡±


    She raised her voice. ¡°It¡¯s a hang up. If you don¡¯t tell them what you¡¯re doing, they can¡¯t disapprove.¡±


    ¡°So you were scared he¡¯d disinherit you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not it.¡±


    The count put his hand on the table top. He studied his fingertips as they pressed down on the cheap laminate. ¡°But you were scared he¡¯d disapprove?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said.


    ¡°Because you wanted him to like you.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to like him. I didn¡¯t want to lose him.¡±


    ¡°Because he was your ally.¡±


    She gasped out the answer: ¡°Yes.¡±


    Vasil lifted his hand from the table and rubbed his jaw. ¡°Miss St. John, why did you think your uncle had a girlfriend?¡±


    Moran glanced at the vampire, but Vasil didn¡¯t notice.


    ¡°He told me,¡± Miranda said. ¡°About a month and a half ago.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure about the dates?¡±


    ¡°Not¡­no. Not really. It might have been two months ago. We were having dinner at his house. I said he looked happy. He said he¡¯d been on a date. I teased him about that for a while, then he threatened to set me up with some old professor so we could go on a double date.¡± A weak smile appeared on her face, but then it disappeared. ¡°Then next time I was over, I asked him if he¡¯d seen her again. He waved away my question and said something about it being complicated. I didn¡¯t want to say anything, in case she¡¯d broken up with him, but he seemed too happy for that. I wondered¡ª¡±


    Miranda bit back her own sentence.


    ¡°What did you wonder, Miss St. John?¡± Moran asked.


    ¡°I wondered if she was already married or something.¡±


    ¡°You thought your uncle was having an affair, and you didn¡¯t think to mention it?¡±


    ¡°How could I? I don¡¯t know anything about it! He only mentioned one date. I never met her, I don¡¯t know who she is, and he never mentioned her again. Isn¡¯t it more likely it was just a date that went nowhere?¡±


    Moran turned back to Darius, but the vampire was still too lost in thought to notice. As the seconds came and went, even Miranda looked at him.


    At last, Darius raised his eyes. ¡°A word, Detective?¡±


    Moran motioned to the door. The two men rose and came toward me. I stepped back.


    When the detective opened the door and saw me, he said, ¡°Afternoon, Miss Cole. How¡¯s the leg?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have a gnarly scar.¡±


    ¡°Call it a battle wound. It sounds better.¡±


    Darius closed the door. When he turned to face the detective, his eyes passed over mine. It felt like he was slicing me down. The message was clear: I was supposed to keep my mouth shut.


    I clamped my teeth down on the inside of my lips.


    Moran said to Darius, ¡°Where did you hear about a girlfriend?¡±


    ¡°St. John mentioned something about it to Miss Cole.¡±


    ¡°Do you know who it is?¡±


    ¡°You know as much about it as I do, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Moran glanced my way, but before he could say anything, Darius went on.


    ¡°I¡¯ve covered all the questions I have. Is there anything you need from me before I go?¡±


    ¡°Do you have someplace to be?¡±


    ¡°No, but I¡¯ve got other work to do, and I don¡¯t think that St. John is our suspect.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be very surprised if she stole the scroll, and I don¡¯t think she killed her uncle.¡±


    I bit down harder on my lips to keep from cheering.


    Moran ran a hand through his hair. ¡°Look, I know she doesn¡¯t seem like a murderer, but I¡¯ve found a whopping total of one motive, and it belongs to her.¡±


    ¡°What about the fingerprints?¡± Darius said. ¡°Haven¡¯t you already checked hers?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t give us anything. We knew she¡¯d been in the study.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about the bloody fingerprints.¡±


    ¡°What bloody fingerprints?¡±


    The count¡¯s whole body glitched¡ªthere was a jerk of stillness in his otherwise normal grace. It was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, but when he spoke, I thought I could hear some tension in his voice.


    ¡°The partial bloody fingerprints. The ones that you found in Wayde¡¯s study.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t find any bloody fingerprints,¡± Moran said. ¡°As far as we can tell, the murderer shot Wayde and walked away without touching him.¡±


    Vasil looked off into space.


    Moran watched him for a second, then said, ¡°Are you sure you aren¡¯t getting your cases mixed up, Agent?¡±


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s it,¡± the count muttered.


    ¡°You should take a break. Grab a cup of coffee before you leave.¡±


    ¡°I think I will. Do you want any, Detective?¡±


    ¡°Thanks, no. I¡¯ll finish up with St. John.¡±


    Moran and I waved to each other before he opened the door. His eyes lingered on the count as he passed inside.


    When the detective was gone, Vasil said under his breath, ¡°Emerra, do you remember him mentioning the partial fingerprints?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I whispered back.


    ¡°Then she couldn¡¯t have known about you.¡±


    The count turned and headed back down the hall, passing by the breakroom with its promise of stale coffee, on his way to Moran¡¯s desk. He sat down at the desk and pulled a large file toward himself.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I need a moment, Miss Cole.¡±


    I stood there, next to Moran¡¯s desk, smiling at the people who glanced our way and trying to look like I had a right to be there. After five minutes, I decided I¡¯d have to talk to Darius about his definition of the word ¡°moment.¡±


    He flipped over the last piece of paper, closed the file, and put it back.


    ¡°Well?¡± I said.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk outside.¡±


    He rose and led us out of the building. We were halfway to the SUV when Darius pulled his phone out of his pocket.


    ¡°Is there anyone around, or does anything look weird to you?¡± he asked.


    It took me a second to realize he was talking to me.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Look around. Does anything look weird to you?¡±


    Weird? It was a parking lot! What did he expect me to see? There was some trash, a couple of cigarette butts, and a whole bunch of cop cars.


    ¡°Not really,¡± I said.


    ¡°Good.¡± Darius tapped his phone and raised it to his ear. ¡°Mr. Uhler? This is Darius Vasil. It¡¯s about the Wayde case. I need you to help me find a witch.¡±

 Chapter 34 - The Power of Chocolate

    Uhler couldn¡¯t meet us until the next morning. He tracked down a coffee shop that would be convenient for both him and Darius, and they agreed to meet there at nine. Since Darius and I were already in the car, driving home, the vampire asked me to look up the coffee shop on my phone and send the information to him so he wouldn¡¯t forget it.


    After I pressed send, I said, ¡°Can I come?¡±


    All the anger I had borrowed on behalf of Miranda was used up, so my question came out a lot more quiet and pleading than I wanted it to.


    Darius didn¡¯t answer. I turned to watch his face.


    Most of the time, the count was careful to control his more modest reactions. Surprise? Evident. Anger? Always in view. But when nothing was called for except an everyday expression, he always adopted a stoic air. I had to guess how thoughtful he was by what he was doing with his hands. If they were up by his mouth, that was level five, semi-serious thought. If he was rubbing his jaw, red alert! Level ten, deliberate contemplation.


    But since he was driving, his hands were busy. Without his typical cover, I could see the thoughts swaying through his expression.


    Something was troubling him.


    ¡°Emerra,¡± he said, ¡°how are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡±


    He smiled ruefully and shook his head.


    I faced forward and pushed my back into the seat. ¡°Why don¡¯t you let me worry about me?¡± I grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m almost twenty.¡±


    ¡°You are twenty.¡±


    I blinked and turned to look at him.


    ¡°Today¡¯s the twenty-sixth,¡± he said.


    ¡°Is it?¡±


    ¡°You forgot?¡±


    ¡°It feels like a few days went missing somewhere. You can¡¯t blame me for losing track. Hey! Is that why Igor asked me what my favorite cake was?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if Iset mentioned it to him.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± I smiled. ¡°Maybe he is a sweetheart.¡±


    The cake was on the counter when we got home. I honed in on it. As I approached, a large wooden spoon, from out of nowhere, slammed down on the table between me and the dessert with an ear-rending crack. My eyes followed the spoon up to the arm, to the shoulder, to the one glaring eye of Igor.


    ¡°Real food first,¡± he declared.


    Like I was going to argue with that. ¡°No problem. Point me to the real food.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring it into the dining room. Like always. You should wash up.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Igor, how come you always serve dinner in the formal dining room? I mean, most nights it¡¯s only me, Conrad, and Olivia. Sometimes Darius. It seems like a lot of work for four people.¡±


    The sweetheart said, ¡°Dining rooms are meant to be used. Savage.¡±


    ¡°Then how come you don¡¯t eat with us?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I go through all that trouble just to get you out of the kitchen, and now you want me to join you? Pfffffft.¡±


    But that night Igor joined us for dessert. He cut the cake himself and handed me the first slice.


    I took it with both hands, like the hungry beggar I was, and laughed when the smell of it reached my nose.


    Darius, who was beside me at the head of the table, leaned over and said quietly, ¡°Happy Birthday, Emerra.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Should we have gotten candles?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I held up a forkful of frosting. ¡°I got what I wished for.¡±


    Vasil nodded his thanks when Igor passed him his share of the cake. After the count placed it on the table, he picked up his dessert fork. The silver twirled in his fingers, glinting under the light of the chandelier.


    ¡°Emerra, if you want to come with me tomorrow, you¡¯d be welcome.¡±


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    I swallowed my excitement and the cake so I could reply with all the dignity a former teenager should have. ¡°Thank you, Darius.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to be ready to go early.¡±


    ¡°I will be.¡±


    It was a great evening. Even Olivia didn¡¯t seem to be as caustic as normal. Behold! The power of chocolate! Conrad was on my other side, enjoying his slice of cake. I thought about asking him if it was okay for him to eat chocolate, but then I remembered two things: one, he wasn¡¯t a dog, and two, he was a grown man. He probably knew what he was doing. Igor sat at the end of the table and gave his expert opinion as we discussed the merits of every style of cake and cake frosting ever made.


    When we were done, I offered to help Igor take the dishes back to the kitchen, but he threatened me with a fork. Instead, I went to the library to thank Iset for telling Igor it was my birthday. She accepted my thanks with all the grace I¡¯d expect from a queen.


    Then I went to hunt down the wolfman. After a fruitless half-hour of searching the mansion, I requisitioned a blanket to use as a giant, tartan poncho and went outside. As I made my way into the yard, the light from the porch grew fainter. It cast a dim layer of light on the shapes in the darkness. I passed the stone wall, with it¡¯s block of black shadows, and found Conrad a few feet further on, sitting on a bench by the edge of an open space. By the time I saw him, he¡¯d already turned his head to watch my approach.


    I came up level with the bench but stopped a foot away. ¡°How do you always know I¡¯m behind you?¡±


    ¡°I can smell you.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    He brushed a finger over his nose. ¡°You thought it was decoration?¡±


    When I laughed, he looked down and shuffled the dirt under his boots.


    ¡°Do you need something?¡± he asked.


    I finished crossing over to the bench and sat next to him. ¡°I¡¯ve come to reserve you for some anime tonight. What do you think? Are you up for it?¡±


    His muzzle dipped after a second. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m up for it. Are you?¡±


    ¡°Please. Sir.¡± I put my hand on my chest. ¡°I¡¯m a professional. I can watch it for hours.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not tired?¡±


    It was like a hand reached into my chest and squeezed. I took a deep breath and blinked back the tears that had rushed to my eyes. I was exhausted, and I was far too tired to lie about it.


    I looked up. Nestled in the night sky were a zillion points of light.


    ¡°It¡¯s really pretty out here,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I come here,¡± Conrad said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen so many stars.¡±


    One of his ears twitched toward me. ¡°Where are you from?¡±


    ¡°Everywhere, nowhere¡ªbut I mostly stayed in cities and suburbs. Out here, we¡¯re so remote.¡±


    ¡°Nah. If you want remote, you go out about twenty miles from any light source. Then you look up. It¡¯s a whole different sky. It looks like white dust spilling out of the Milky Way.¡±


    ¡°Where are you from, Conrad?¡±


    ¡°Alaska.¡±


    I let out a low whistle. ¡°Dang. Now, that¡¯s remote.¡±


    ¡°My town sure was. It¡¯s a lot like this though. Most of the trees are different, but we were up by the mountains, surrounded by forest.¡±


    ¡°That sounds nice.¡±


    ¡°Do you like the outdoors?¡±


    ¡°I never thought about it. I go wherever I land, you know? But this¡±¡ªI opened my arms. My blanket spread to take in the sky¡ª¡°I like this.¡±


    I yawned. It was so wide, it looked like my skull was hinged. I rubbed my eyes.


    ¡°Ugh. What were we saying?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You were about to tell me you weren¡¯t tired.¡±


    ¡°I see. Would you believe me?¡±


    He chuff-laughed. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I am tired, but I don¡¯t want to go to bed.¡±


    ¡°You mean early?¡±


    I tapped the toes of my boots together. ¡°You can sleep in, right? Want to grab some energy drinks and see how many episodes we can binge? First one to fall asleep loses.¡±


    I thought he would laugh. Or maybe I¡¯d see the edge of his lips lift up in a smile. But when he spoke, his voice was soft and serious, and his eyes never left my face.


    ¡°Are you afraid to go to sleep?¡±


    My stomach seized up. Through the blanket, I grabbed the front of the bench with both hands to steady myself.


    ¡°Mera?¡± Conrad was leaning over me, all concerned.


    I shook my head. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m fine.¡± He backed off. ¡°Ha. Wow. Um. Afraid?¡± My lips quivered as I tried to force a smile. I had to smile. What a great joke, right? Who¡¯d be afraid to go to sleep?


    But he was still watching me, his furry brows pulled together and his ears drooping to the sides.


    I knew that face. That was the ¡°am I a bad dog?¡± face that a certain human-sized puppy wore whenever the nurses were chewing us out¡ªpart worried, part sad.


    I chuckled. ¡°You do kind of look like Charlie. Is that rude to say?¡±


    Conrad looked away. ¡°No. I suspect it¡¯s true. I bet I look more like him that anyone else you know.¡±


    It felt good to laugh. I gulped the moment of happiness and borrowed its smile. Then I looked back up at the stars.


    ¡°Do you promise not to tell Darius?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That depends. Why don¡¯t you want him to know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want him to feel bad. And I really don¡¯t want him to take me off the case.¡±


    There was a short silence.


    ¡°I promise,¡± Conrad said.


    ¡°Ever since Darius showed me that body, I¡¯ve been having nightmares¡ªwell, a nightmare, anyway. Over and over again. Sometimes the beginning is different, but most of the dream is the same.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re talking about Wayde¡¯s body?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°What¡¯s the dream?¡±


    ¡°I watch him die.¡± A shudder crept through my body. ¡°I watch him get shot.¡±


    ¡°And you dream that whenever you fall asleep?¡±


    ¡°Every time. Seeing the body freaked me out more than I thought it would.¡± I rushed to add, ¡°But I¡¯ll get over it. I mean, they¡¯re only nightmares.¡±


    Even to me, the words sounded hollow. For a long time, it was quiet.


    Conrad put his arms over the back of the bench. ¡°So what happens to the loser of this anime challenge?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°I vote the winner gets to draw a mustache on them while they¡¯re asleep.¡±


    ¡°The only markers around here are permanent.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You have to give me your croissants next time Igor makes them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m entertained that you think I¡¯m going to lose. You¡¯re the one that crashed out on the couch last night. Are you willing to give up your croissants?¡±


    ¡°Huh. How about we play for honor and glory?¡±


    ¡°How about the winner picks the next show?¡±


    ¡°Oh! I like that! Let¡¯s do that.¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡±


    I flipped the blanket edge out of the way and put out my hand. It disappeared when Conrad¡¯s gigantic paw closed over it. I could feel the leathery pad where his palm was, the long, thinner pads leading up each finger, and the fur that was everywhere the pads weren¡¯t. We shook.


    ¡°You want to start now or later?¡± I asked.


    Conrad stood up. ¡°We can start now.¡±


    I bounced to my feet. ¡°Cool. You set up the show, I¡¯ll hunt down some caffeine.¡±

 Chapter 35 - The Witch

    The next morning I was sitting in a coffee shop, staring with bleary eyes at the cup in front of me.


    ¡°Do you think Igor knows how to make real coffee?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean, stuff like this?¡±


    ¡°That is not real coffee,¡± Darius said. ¡°That is about as far away from real coffee as it¡¯s allowed to be before labeling laws would require them to change the name. Emerra, I don¡¯t think you even know what real coffee looks like.¡±


    If we were defining ¡°coffee¡± as the stuff you got by introducing hot water to ground beans, the vampire had a pretty good argument. It always came to me disguised. Preferably disguised as dessert.


    I glanced at the vampire¡¯s cup. It lacked not only sprinkles, but the whipped cream the sprinkles were supposed to go on.


    I felt bad for him, so I decided to change the subject.


    ¡°Darius, what makes you so sure we¡¯re looking for a witch?¡±


    The count had been staring into space, but he turned to look at me. ¡°Most magicians would be able to break into a police station if they had to, but only a witch can alter people¡¯s memories.¡±


    ¡°How does that work? Isn¡¯t magic, magic?¡±


    ¡°Magic is the raw power that most magicians work with. A witch¡¯s magic is natural. They only have to channel it. A sorcerer or alchemist has to use tools to gather and manipulate magic. It¡¯s like using a hammer and saw to shape wood while a witch can grow the tree any way they want. You would know if a sorcerer had been trying to mess with your head. There wouldn¡¯t be much left of it.¡±


    ¡°And you think a witch broke into the police station?¡±


    ¡°Those fingerprints would have placed someone at the crime scene at the time of the murder¡ªthere isn¡¯t a detective alive that would have forgotten about them. Someone changed Moran¡¯s memory and removed every reference of those prints from the file.¡± Vasil lifted his head and looked toward the front of the store. ¡°Uhler¡¯s here.¡±


    The vampire had insisted that we sit in the back corner, away from the door, and away from as many people as possible. We couldn¡¯t even see the counter from where we were sitting.


    ¡°How do you know?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I heard him order a drink.¡±


    Darius stood up and walked around the corner. He returned with the torrman.


    The witch smiled when he saw me. ¡°Miss Cole! Good morning.¡±


    ¡°If I let you call me Emerra, can I call you Cosmo?¡±


    He stopped beside the table. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I think Cosmo is a rad first name.¡±


    He blushed and his hand went to his glasses.


    ¡°Emerra,¡± Darius chided.


    ¡°And I mean that in a very professional way,¡± I added.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to call me Cosmo¡±¡ªhe hesitated, like he was working himself up to it¡ª¡°Emerra.¡±


    I smiled as he sat down across from me. Darius returned to the chair beside me.


    Cosmo said, ¡°Vasil, you know I¡¯m happy to help in any way I can, but before we settle on a plan, do you think you could tell me more about what¡¯s been going on, and why you think a witch is involved?¡±


    Darius laid out the details in a way so structured, it could have been admitted as evidence for how obsessive he was. He only paused when the barista brought Cosmo his drink. The torrman listened without saying a word. When he wasn¡¯t drinking his coffee, he would lean back in his seat, his arms crossed, and let his gaze rest on the table.


    When the count mentioned that all the information about the fingerprints had gone missing, Cosmo pulled his phone out from his pocket.


    ¡°Uhler?¡± Vasil said.


    ¡°Please, go on. I¡¯m listening.¡±


    Cosmo typed on his phone, then laid it on the table while Vasil continued. In less time than I might have thought, the sketch of the case was done.


    ¡°I agree with you,¡± Uhler said when it was over. ¡°That sounds like the work of a witch. Do you know if they¡¯re the murderer?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know. The prints they stole might have been theirs, or they might have been persuaded to help someone else.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Uhler mumbled.


    His phone chimed. He picked it up and read the text message.


    As Uhler got to his feet, he said, ¡°Please wait here, Vasil. I¡¯ll be back in a few minutes.¡±


    I stared, slack-jawed, at Cosmo. A witch had broken into a police station, altered a detective¡¯s memory, stolen evidence in a murder case¡­and he was taking a break?


    When Darius spoke, he sounded a lot calmer than I thought he had any right to.


    ¡°Is it important?¡±


    ¡°Very important.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be here.¡±


    Cosmo left.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I said.


    ¡°I suspect we¡¯ll find out shortly.¡±


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. But it¡¯s unlike Uhler to interrupt a conversation by choosing to text someone.¡±


    ¡°Okay. And?¡±


    ¡°Did you notice how bad his hands were shaking?¡±


    As a matter of fact, I hadn¡¯t. So much for my supernatural eyes. I prided myself on being good at observing people, but it seemed I was in the presence of a master. I put my hands together and bowed.


    ¡°Sensei.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Never mind. Is this why you prefer to talk to people in person?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s one of the reasons, yes. Emerra, can you see Cosmo from where you¡¯re sitting?¡±


    I looked around, confused.


    ¡°He¡¯s outside,¡± Darius said.


    I leaned back so I could see out the window. ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°Do you recognize the woman he¡¯s with?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t even see¡ª¡± I turned to the vampire. ¡°Darius, can you hear them from in here?¡±


    The count raised his hand to request my silence.


    I scooted closer to the window as quietly as I could and leaned so far over, my head bonked the cold glass. Cosmo¡¯s body was mostly blocking my view of the woman, but I could see her shoulder, and how tight she held her arms to herself. Cosmo gestured and moved his arms in big, stiff, abrupt motions. It was clear the torrman was reading her the riot act.


    Then Cosmo stepped to the side, and I could see her face.


    ¡°That¡¯s Rena Drix!¡± I said.


    Darius leaned back and picked up his cup of coffee. ¡°I think we¡¯ve found Wayde¡¯s elusive girlfriend.¡±


    I frowned and inched my chair back to the table.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the face?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°She seemed nice. I don¡¯t want her messed up in this.¡±


    ¡°Would you rather it be her or Miranda?¡±


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    I glared. ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡±


    ¡°It is what it is, Emerra. Sometimes nice people get caught up in ugly things. We¡¯ll have a chance to hear her story soon. Uhler is bringing her inside.¡± Darius tapped on the handle of his mug. ¡°Does she seem young to you?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s, like, twenty-five. Maybe older.¡±


    ¡°Trevon Wayde was over forty.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I hear the older you get, the less those age gaps matter.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t argue with that.¡±


    Yeah, the hundred-year old vampire probably couldn¡¯t argue with that.


    I tried to imagine Darius in a romantic relationship. Whoever dated him would have to be really fond of suits.


    My amusing speculation ended when Uhler and Drix reached our table. The torrman motioned to the seat across from me. Rena put her bag on the floor next to the chair and sat down without ever looking at either of us.


    ¡°Good morning, Ms. Drix,¡± Darius said.


    She didn¡¯t answer.


    Cosmo said, ¡°So you¡¯ve already met her.¡±


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s been hanging around the college where Wayde worked. I was told she was doing research there.¡±


    The torrman sighed as he sat down. ¡°That was the cover we gave her. She¡¯s actually a former apprentice of mine. We both have a lot to explain. I hope you¡¯ll hear us out.¡±


    ¡°I assure you, I¡¯m very interested in what you have to say.¡±


    Uhler put his elbows on the table with his hands clasped. He bowed his head before he began.


    ¡°When Thorburn got the call from Both, he originally asked me to find a handler for Wayde. Miss Drix agreed to help as a favor. We made some arrangements and had her go in as a student from another school.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    Cosmo turned to his apprentice. ¡°Rena?¡±


    Drix tried to look up, but she could only meet Darius¡¯s eyes for a second. ¡°He asked me out. I was only being friendly with him, trying to get close enough to ask about the scroll, but¡­yeah.¡±


    ¡°Did you agree to go out with him?¡±


    ¡°It seemed like the perfect opportunity. He¡¯d invited me back to his place. He was an amateur chef¡ª¡± She grit her teeth and closed her eyes. Every line and plane of her face was stiff with grief.


    ¡°You fell in love with him,¡± I said.


    ¡°That was my fault,¡± she muttered. ¡°I got too close.¡±


    My voice rose with indignation: ¡°What do you mean, ¡®it was your fault?¡¯ What¡¯s wrong with it?¡±


    ¡°She was on an assignment,¡± Darius said. ¡°You aren¡¯t supposed to become involved with the person you¡¯re watching.¡± He looked at Drix. ¡°Did you ask Wayde to keep your relationship a secret?¡±


    ¡°Not at first.¡±


    ¡°But you did?¡±


    She nodded.


    That would explain why Frost hadn¡¯t heard about her.


    ¡°When?¡± Vasil asked.


    ¡°My guess would be after I found out about it,¡± Cosmo said. ¡°When Rena was giving me her reports, something seemed off, so I asked her what was going on. When I heard that she was¡­involved¡­I pulled her from the assignment and told her not to see him again.¡±


    Involved, I thought. What a quaint way to get the point across.


    Darius said to Drix, ¡°You disobeyed your torrman and your master?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t stand the look of pain and shame on her face.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I said, ¡°this was Trevon Wayde we¡¯re talking about. He was big-hearted, sweet, and funny¡ªand he could cook! I¡¯ve only heard about him, but I get it. I mean, he had a dinosaur sticker on his nameplate. A dinosaur! ¡±


    Rena raised her eyes. They were shining with unshed tears, but she did her best to smile. ¡°All hail, Lord Spike.¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± I assured her.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Cosmo said. ¡°Maybe it was my fault for underestimating their attachment to each other.¡±


    ¡°How often did you see Wayde?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°If we were lucky, once a week,¡± Rena said. ¡°Most of the time it was once every other week. We¡¯d missed our last date when I had a Tuesday come open. I knew that was when he met with his club, but I thought I¡¯d ask if I could see him afterward.¡±


    ¡°That was the night of his murder, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°He was going home early to meet you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Oh, geez. No wonder the Dead Enders had said he seemed happy. He went home to meet Rena Drix, but instead he found his murderer, who thought he¡¯d be at his club meeting until late.


    That hurt. That was stupid and awful, and it made me sad and mad to even think about it.


    ¡°Tell me what happened that night,¡± Darius said.


    I passed Drix a napkin so she could wipe her eyes.


    She nodded her thanks before saying, ¡°I was a few minutes late getting to his place.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what time you arrived?¡±


    ¡°Just after eight. When I went inside, I saw his bag by the door, so I knew he was home, but he didn¡¯t answer when I called. I went upstairs to his study.¡± She took a second to get control of herself. ¡°He was sitting in his armchair. Slumped. There was blood everywhere.¡±


    I closed my eyes to banish the image of Wayde¡¯s ruined body.


    ¡°What did you do then?¡± Darius said. ¡°I need you to be as exact as possible.¡±


    ¡°I ran over and knelt in front of him. I-I think I touched him¡ªhis neck, to check his pulse¡ªbut I already knew he was dead.¡±


    ¡°Was the body still warm?¡±


    Drix nodded. ¡°And it was wet. All the blood was still wet. I got it all over my hands. Then I panicked. I grabbed my stuff and left.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you call the police?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because she knew she¡¯d be punished for disobeying me,¡± Uhler said softly.


    Rena went on, ¡°I went home. While I was washing my hands, I realized that I¡¯d probably left fingerprints, but I was too scared to go back. The next day, it was too late. His niece had already found him, and I knew I couldn¡¯t explain to the police why I¡¯d run away.¡±


    Darius leaned forward and put his folded hands on the table. ¡°Miss Drix, did you break into the police station and remove the evidence of the fingerprints from the file?¡±


    There was a long silence, then, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Did you alter Detective Moran¡¯s memory?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡±


    ¡°Please answer the question.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want anyone to know I was there.¡±


    ¡°Did you see anyone at Wayde¡¯s house on the night of the murder?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Please think about the question, Miss Drix. Did you see anyone while you were approaching the house? Leaving it?¡±


    She shook her head.


    ¡°Were there any small signs or things you noticed that might have indicated someone else was in the house with you?¡±


    ¡°Not that I saw.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember what the study looked like when you arrived? Was anything out of place?¡±


    Drix laughed. It was one breath that was mostly sadness. ¡°Have you ever been in Trev¡¯s study? A tornado could have come through, I don¡¯t think I would have known.¡±


    ¡°Did you see the scroll there? Consider your answer, and tell me if you don¡¯t remember.¡±


    I noticed the shaking this time. It would have been hard to miss. It looked like an earthquake had moved into Rena Drix¡¯s frame.


    ¡°Mr. Vasil, I need you to believe me.¡±


    ¡°Is there a reason I wouldn¡¯t believe you?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m going to sound crazy.¡±


    Whatever answer Darius had been expecting, it wasn¡¯t that. I saw his eyes briefly widen. He leaned back in his chair, and his hand went to his face.


    ¡°Go on,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the scroll was there. I wasn¡¯t thinking right, but I remember looking for it because it was important, and I thought I saw it there. But the next Tuesday, while I was going through his desk, I found it.¡±


    I slapped up a mental calendar inside my head. It wasn¡¯t all that reliable, but the day of the burglary was circled in highlighter. Monday, the twenty-third.


    That made sense. If Summer had stolen the scroll, then returned to the college, he might have hidden it in Wayde¡¯s desk. Especially if he and Drix were the only two people that hung out there.


    She was baffled because she didn¡¯t know the scroll had been stolen.


    ¡°Did you touch it?¡± Darius asked.


    Rena reached down to her bag, pulled out the scroll, and placed it in the center of the table.


    There was no fanfare, no flourish. It lay on the coffee house table, looking as unimpressive as everything around it. I still found it hard to breathe.


    When Darius spoke, his voice was tense: ¡°How long has this been in your possession?¡±


    ¡°Since Tuesday.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been in your bag the whole time?¡±


    ¡°Except when I was looking at it.¡±


    ¡°Are you prepared to swear to that, Miss Drix?¡±


    The intensity of his question startled her, but she nodded.


    ¡°Did you know about this?¡± Darius asked Cosmo.


    ¡°No.¡±


    The vampire looked back at Rena, ¡°Why did you take it?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what else to do. I knew it was important to the Torr, and I didn¡¯t know what the police would do¡ª¡±


    ¡°What made you think it was important to the Torr?¡±


    Darius was boring through Drix with his inquisition eyes. I was surprised the back of her head didn¡¯t explode.


    She stammered, ¡°But¡­but the Torr¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your mentor asked for a personal favor because he couldn¡¯t justify leveling it up to a community task. As a religious scroll, it¡¯s unlikely that anyone would have been able to use it. You¡¯d been told it was a fake, and all the reports say that Wayde had no magical interest in it¡ª¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s fake?¡±


    That one small question stopped Darius cold¡ªcold like an ice age. When he thawed, he said, ¡°Do you have any reason to think it isn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think.¡±


    ¡°Please explain.¡±


    ¡°The first time I touched the scroll, I sensed some residual magic on it.¡±


    ¡°What kind of residual magic?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It was so faint, and I¡¯m not that powerful. It felt like it was long-term, active magic, but I couldn¡¯t tell for sure, and when I pulled the scroll out of the desk, I couldn¡¯t sense anything. The magic was gone.¡±


    ¡°Cosmo.¡±


    Uhler reached out and picked up the roll of papyrus. All four of us were silent.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Cosmo put the scroll down. ¡°If there was any residual magic, it¡¯s gone.¡±


    Darius said to Drix, ¡°Are you sure this is the same scroll?¡±


    ¡°It looks exactly the same,¡± she said. ¡°The only thing different is the lack of magic.¡±


    ¡°Is it possible you made a mistake?¡±


    Rena looked as if she was considering the idea, but her master spoke up for her.


    ¡°If Rena says she felt it, it was there.¡±


    ¡°Could it have faded?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°It must have,¡± Cosmo said, ¡°but if it was long-term residual, I wouldn¡¯t have expected it to fade that fast.¡±


    Darius said to Drix, ¡°How long ago did you sense this magic?¡±


    ¡°The first time I touched the scroll was about a month ago,¡± she said.


    ¡°After you¡¯d been taken off the assignment?¡±


    ¡°I would have told Mr. Uhler if it had been before then.¡±


    Darius rubbed his chin for a long time¡ªwe¡¯re talking level twelve, catastrophic pondering. None of us were willing to interrupt him.


    Suddenly his hand dropped to his pocket. He pulled out a set of latex gloves and put them on.


    ¡°Mr. Uhler, I¡¯m going to leave Drix in your custody. Please let me know where you¡¯re keeping her. She¡¯s to be tracked until the investigation is over.¡±


    Cosmo said, ¡°Would you prefer if I bind her to someone other than myself?¡±


    ¡°Bind her to Adams, if she¡¯s willing.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Noctis will be in contact with you and the other torrmen to address your part in this affair.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    Darius picked up the scroll. ¡°Emerra, are you ready to go?¡±


    I chugged the last of my coffee and stood up.


    When we were out of the coffee shop, I said, ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to Rena?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a matter for the Torr to decide. Once the investigation is over, she¡¯ll be put on trial, and they¡¯ll decide her punishment. If she¡¯s lucky, the Torr may decide it¡¯s a joint concern. If she¡¯s less lucky, she¡¯ll be left to the witches.¡± Darius unlocked the car and opened his door.


    I got in on my side. ¡°Is that bad?¡±


    ¡°The witches are known for being strict.¡± Vasil paused to finish buckling his seatbelt. ¡°Uhler would forgive her for disobeying him. The rest won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t kill her, will they?¡±


    ¡°Seatbelt, Emerra.¡± When he twisted around to look behind the vehicle, I saw his closed-lip smile. ¡°Despite what you think, magicians aren¡¯t a bunch of martial-law barbarians. Not even the witches would kill someone for disobedience.¡±


    We pulled out of our parking spot.


    ¡°What will happen to Cosmo?¡±


    Darius¡¯s smile disappeared. He faced forward. ¡°That¡¯s a rather more serious matter. Were you there when Jacky was at the Torr meeting?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Did Uhler lie to him?¡±


    I thought back on the conversation. ¡°It was more like he rushed past any mention of Drix.¡±


    ¡°Good. Jacky tends to treat omission of facts different than he does lies. Uhler will probably be all right.¡±


    ¡°You mean Jacky decides what happens to him?¡±


    ¡°Jack Noctis is the last resort of the Torr. Whenever there¡¯s a problem with one of the torrmen, they go to him.¡±

 Chapter 36 - Conrads Morning

    Igor used his closer eye to glance at the wolfman. Conrad was sitting in his normal chair at the kitchen table, sipping coffee.


    ¡°You¡¯re up late,¡± Igor observed.


    ¡°And I lost a bet too,¡± Conrad grumbled.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already put the breakfast leftovers away, but I dare say you wouldn¡¯t mind eating them cold.¡±


    The wolfman didn¡¯t answer.


    That troubled Igor. When it came to food, Conrad was usually very responsive. Most people were.


    ¡°Are you hungry?¡± Igor asked.


    He sounded like someone approaching a grotesque form stapled to a wall and saying ¡°is it alive?¡±


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    Conrad must not have heard his question.


    ¡°Has Emerra come down yet?¡± the wolfman asked.


    Igor blew out a short breath of irritation. ¡°Vasil dragged her off before breakfast. Again.¡± He started mumbling under his breath about lack of proper respect for food and respect in general.


    It stopped when he heard a soft click¡­click¡­click¡­coming from the table.


    ¡°Conrad, your nails!¡±


    The wolfman curled them into his palm. He kept them cut almost to the quick and tried to round them off with a file, but they were still, in the end, claws. They could do a lot of damage if he wasn¡¯t careful. Tapping them on a hardwood table wasn¡¯t a good idea.


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°What on earth has gotten into you this morning?¡±


    Conrad shook his head and stood up. Igor watched him leave, then went to pick up the coffee the wolfman had left on the table. It was cold.


    The wolfman wandered down the long hall with his hands buried in his pockets. When he passed the front stairs, he turned and walked up to a closed door.


    He hesitated for a few seconds, then knocked.


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    Conrad opened the door and went inside.


    ¡°Good morning, Conrad.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Noctis, can I ask you something?¡±

 Chapter 37 - In Jackys Study

    The scroll was sitting, bagged, in my lap.


    I didn¡¯t like it. It still looked too fake to be what all this fuss was about. Two men were dead. Two souls were missing. I thought about Miranda crying in the interrogation room, Frost¡¯s heavy grief, and the Dead Enders all raising their glasses to toast to Trevon Wayde.


    I wanted to hurl the thing out the window.


    Since we were flying back toward the mansion at well above the speed limit, it would probably be lost forever¡ªwhich meant Darius would get mad at me. I refrained.


    ¡°Darius?¡±


    He hummed to show he was listening.


    ¡°Rena Drix says she had this scroll when Louis Summer died.¡±


    ¡°You noticed that?¡±


    ¡°Does that mean that the scroll isn¡¯t responsible for the missing souls?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s always been a possibility, but I find it hard to believe.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Relics are hard to come by, even fake ones, and there¡¯s no evidence that Wayde had anything else that was even remotely magical.¡±


    ¡°But then¡­what does that mean? How could Summer¡¯s soul go missing if Drix had the scroll?¡±


    ¡°The most obvious solution is that Drix is the one who killed him.¡±


    The blood drained from my face.


    Vasil glanced at me. ¡°Are you going to tell me that she didn¡¯t do it?¡±


    ¡°Well! She gave you the scroll! And you saw her¡ªshe was heartbroken. She wouldn¡¯t have killed Wayde. Why would she risk disobeying her master if she didn¡¯t love him?¡±


    ¡°There could have been something else that made it worth it to her.¡±


    ¡°Iset said that the scroll turned a mundane into a magician. Drix is already a witch.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and using that scroll would have required magic. We¡¯ve only found two magicians associated with the case, Drix and Aubert.¡±


    ¡°Natalie Both said that you needed a special kind of magician to use a religious relic!¡±


    The count hesitated. ¡°That¡¯s true, but it depends on the relic. That¡¯s why our first priority is getting that scroll to Iset so she can start translating it.


    I watched out the window as the world rolled by. The foreground flashed past. The background moseyed.


    ¡°Darius, if the murderer was a magician, why would they shoot Wayde with a gun? Shouldn¡¯t they have used magic? Or would that have left¡±¡ªI thought back to our conversation with Cosmo and Drix¡ª¡°residual magic?¡±


    Darius threw on his blinker and pulled into the exit lane. ¡°That would depend on what magic they used, but most magicians would know enough not to use magic that would leave a trace.¡±


    ¡°Then¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wayde was already known to the Torr. It¡¯s possible the murderer was more worried about our investigation than a normal police investigation. If Wayde had died under mysterious circumstances, the Torr probably would have sent someone like me out. If he was murdered with a gun, the murderer might have assumed that no one would suspect his death was tied to anything magical.¡±


    ¡°But we knew.¡±


    ¡°We knew because of Jacky. Most people, even magicians, don¡¯t know about Jacky. If he hadn¡¯t been there to tell us Wayde¡¯s soul was missing, it would have been just another murder. It¡¯s the same with Louis Summer. If Jacky hadn¡¯t told us that someone else had been there, it would have looked like a suicide.¡±


    ¡°And the gun would have been found in his apartment. Case closed.¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°That would explain why Summer¡¯s place hadn¡¯t been broken into.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t they use magic to get inside?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a possibility. It¡¯s also possible they got their hands on a key in a mundane way.¡±


    ¡°Like how?¡±


    ¡°Like stealing it from the apartment manager.¡±


    ¡°Geez. Do criminals take a class somewhere or something?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It sounds so obvious once you say it, but it never would have occurred to me¡ªlike using a real scroll to forge a fake one. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m cut out to be a criminal.¡±


    The vampire smiled wide enough, I caught a glimpse of teeth.


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    ¡°What are you laughing at, Count Vasil?¡±


    ¡°The idea of you as a criminal master mind.¡±


    ¡°You know, this conversation is going to be a part of my tragic backstory.¡± I lowered my voice, ¡°They all laughed at me!¡±


    When we arrived home, Darius drove us around to the garage. It used to be a stable, large enough to house the horses and their carriages. The five arched doors looked old fashioned and elegant, but the second one rose automatically when Darius tapped his remote.


    We went in through the kitchen. Igor was working on lunch. Iset was standing nearby, talking to him. She stopped and turned when she heard us enter.


    It was odd seeing her there. I never had before.


    ¡°You¡¯re home,¡± she said.


    ¡°We¡¯ve found the scroll.¡± Darius held it out to her. ¡°Can you start translating it?¡±


    ¡°Darius, Jacky wants to see Emerra in his study.¡±


    Me? I thought.


    I wasn¡¯t the only person who was surprised.


    ¡°He wants to see Emerra?¡± Darius said.


    ¡°You should go with her.¡±


    Darius looked from Iset to me, but it wasn¡¯t like I could tell him what was going on. The vampire turned back to Iset and pressed the scroll into her hands.


    ¡°You start on that.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Darius motioned for me to follow him. We walked out of the kitchen, through the hall, turned just past the grand staircase, and stopped in front of a door.


    I remembered it from Iset¡¯s tour. Big Jacky¡¯s study.


    I caught myself squeezing my fingers and forced myself to stop.


    Darius knocked.


    ¡°Come in,¡± Jacky called.


    The room was well furnished and generously sized for a study. There wasn¡¯t much in the way of clutter, but on every tabletop, empty shelf, or flat surface, there was some kind of board game laid out, ready to play. I spotted chess, checkers, mancala, and more that I couldn¡¯t name. Standing off to the side, half hiding the go board, was Conrad.


    I smiled when I saw him¡ªas a victor might smile when she stands before a man about to be introduced to The Powerpuff Girls¡ªbut he didn¡¯t smile back. His gaze dropped to the rug.


    ¡°Emerra,¡± Jacky said.


    I looked at him. He was sitting behind his desk with his elbows propped up on the surface and his bony fingers laced together in front of his skull.


    ¡°I understand from Conrad that you¡¯ve been having recurrent nightmares.¡±


    Everything in my chest went cold. The air in my lungs froze, then a sudden blaze of heat ran up my face.


    I couldn¡¯t look at Darius, and I couldn¡¯t look at Conrad, so I kept staring at Jacky¡¯s white skull.


    I unclenched my jaw. ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell us about them?¡±


    I thought I could feel the count¡¯s eyes on me. ¡°They¡¯re only nightmares. It isn¡¯t a big deal.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever had nightmares before?¡±


    ¡°Everyone has nightmares.¡±


    ¡°The same one? Every time you fall asleep?¡±


    I grit my teeth again and let my attention wander up to a random game, high on a shelf. Tears stung at the edges of my eyes, but I willed them back.


    Wow. The wolfman had really told him everything.


    ¡°Jacky,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m okay. They¡¯ll pass. It¡¯s not important.¡±


    Noctis suddenly stood up from his chair. He leaned over his skeletal hands, braced against his desk. ¡°Emerra Cole, you are a seer.¡± He straightened up. ¡°But perhaps you don¡¯t yet understand what that means. Please, sit down. We need you to tell us about your dreams.¡±


    I stumbled over to a chair and sat. Darius sat in the chair behind me. Conrad stayed standing.


    Jack Noctis wandered over to his window. ¡°How long have you been having them?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been five days.¡±


    ¡°I understand you¡¯ve been witnessing Wayde¡¯s death?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Please tell us, in detail, everything you can remember.¡±


    I put my hands in my lap and studied my pale fingers.


    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± Darius said.


    I looked around. The vampire¡¯s face was grave.


    Yup, I thought, I knew it.


    As of tomorrow, I would be off the case. If all I was going to do was sit around, they might as well have left me in my casket.


    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± Darius repeated. ¡°It¡¯ll help you remember. Take your time.¡±


    I faced forward and closed my eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sitting in the armchair across from Wayde,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s night. The windows are all dark. I¡¯m talking to him¡ª¡±


    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I feel like I¡¯m babbling. Like what I¡¯m saying doesn¡¯t matter. Wayde¡¯s watching me, and he isn¡¯t saying anything. He¡¯s frowning. He looks¡ª¡± My words and my breath caught. I had to start again. ¡°He looks sad and worried. And angry. Then someone raises a gun and shoots him.¡±


    ¡°You?¡±


    ¡°No. There¡¯s someone else in the room. They¡¯re beside and behind me, on my left. I can see them raise the gun out of the corner of my eye, then¡ª¡±


    Then blam, and a hot spray of blood.


    I swallowed. ¡°It¡¯s loud.¡±


    ¡°What happens after that?¡±


    I opened my eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s when I wake up.¡±


    A skull stared back at me. ¡°Did you see who pulled the trigger?¡±


    ¡°No, but I know them.¡±


    ¡°Is it you who knows them?¡±


    My brows pulled together. ¡°Yes? Like, no. I don¡¯t know who they are, and I can¡¯t see them, but I feel like I know them. Do you get dreams like that¡ªwhere you know something, even though there¡¯s no way you should know it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t dream. But that wasn¡¯t my question. Is it you, Emerra Cole, who knows that person, or is it the person sitting in the chair?¡±


    ¡°I am the person sitting in the chair.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re only the person who dreamed it.¡±


    I looked over my shoulder for help.


    Darius moved the hand on his jaw to say, ¡°Do you remember anything else?¡±


    A slow sense of displaced unease unfurled from my spine until it reached the far ends of my fingers and toes. Everyone in the room was taking this way too seriously.


    I turned back to Jacky. ¡°They¡¯re just nightmares.¡±


    ¡°Dreams and visions, Emerra. You will see things others can¡¯t, and you will have dreams and visions.¡±


    ¡°But how do you know that these dreams matter?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t, but it¡¯s curious that you should be having them so frequently.¡±


    Darius repeated, softly, ¡°Do you remember anything else?¡±


    ¡°I remember everything!¡± I shouted. ¡°I know where everything in the room is. I can see all the shadows. I could sculpt Wayde¡¯s face¡ªI¡¯m never going to forget it. The blood hits me here¡±¡ªI pointed to my face again and again¡ª¡°here, here, here. It splatters my shirt.¡± I hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m holding something really tightly.¡±


    I clenched my fist, trying to recreate the tension I felt in the dream.


    ¡°Is it the scroll?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Is that something else you ¡®just know?¡¯¡± Darius asked.


    I nodded.


    ¡°Did you ever look down and see what you¡¯re holding?¡±


    ¡°No, but it was heavy. A cylinder, about this big around.¡± I put the tip of my thumb against the tip of my middle finger to make a circle. ¡°I think it¡¯s made of stone, but there are lines and cracks in them. And¡­metal.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what it is?¡±


    ¡°I feel like I know,¡± I said, ¡°but I can¡¯t tell you what it is.¡±


    ¡°Is there anything else? Any other details?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Do you feel any emotions?¡± Jacky asked.


    ¡°Horror.¡±


    ¡°Is it your emotion, or theirs?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Mine, theirs, everyone¡¯s. It filled the universe. Lightning and thunder¡ªthe shot, then the horror.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t tell you about the dreams,¡± I mumbled.


    ¡°You¡¯re new at this,¡± Jacky said. ¡°You¡¯ll grow more accustomed to your gifts as they develop.¡±


    ¡°May I go?¡±


    Jacky looked over my shoulder, presumably at Darius, then he nodded.


    I kept my eyes down as I left the study and went up the stairs. I shut myself away in my room, where I sat against the wall, with my knees up at my chest, and tried not to fall asleep.

 Chapter 38 - Interpreting

    Darius and Iset were working alone in the library at the make-shift desk. The mummy had the scroll open in front of her, the laptop to her side, and a notepad and pen in her hand. The vampire was leaning over his own pad of paper. The case file was open off to the side. Various papers were scattered around him.


    When Vasil was done writing, he leaned back in his chair and dropped his pen on the notepad. The paper was scribbled over with details from Emerra¡¯s dream.


    Darius muttered, ¡°If Olivia¡¯s right then Emerra has the most perfect sight I¡¯ve ever heard of.¡±


    ¡°Jacky told you she would,¡± Iset said without looking up. ¡°You didn¡¯t believe him?¡±


    ¡°It was hard to believe. And it¡¯s not always easy to tell what Jacky means when he talks about ¡®sight.¡¯ But these dreams¡­¡±


    Iset stopped what she was doing and raised her head. ¡°She¡¯s been dreaming?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°She never mentioned it.¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t mention it to anyone except Conrad. She didn¡¯t think they were important.¡±


    ¡°But Jacky does?¡±


    Darius looked up at Iset. ¡°Have you ever heard of someone having the same dream every time they fall asleep?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Neither have I.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s her dream?¡±


    Darius outlined what he¡¯d heard. Iset was motionless until he mentioned the blood splattering Emerra¡¯s face, then she stiffened and laid her pen down on the desk.


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    ¡°Iset?¡±


    She waved away his concern. ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    The count sighed. ¡°I think, right now, all I can do is treat them like a bad witness. They might be telling the truth¡ªor what they think is the truth¡ªor they might be wrong.¡±


    ¡°But if it¡¯s true, what does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that there are two people involved in the murder. One who was in the room, and one who pulled the trigger. And if Wayde was sitting there, talking to them, then it means he probably knew them. And I might be wasting your time with that translation.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s looking less and less likely that the scroll¡¯s responsible for the missing souls. Emerra said she was holding something. Some kind of stone cylinder¡ª¡±


    Iset¡¯s sharp question broke into his thoughts: ¡°Did she describe it?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Did she say what the stone cylinder looks like?¡±


    Darius¡¯s body tensed when he heard the urgency in the mummy¡¯s voice. ¡°She could only describe how it felt.¡± He pulled his notepad closer. ¡°About one and a half to two inches in diameter. Stone, with lines, cracks, and metal.¡±


    The mummy stared at the scroll.


    ¡°Iset?¡±


    ¡°Darius, come here.¡±


    The vampire was by her side instantly.


    Iset pointed to various diagrams and pictures as she said, ¡°The scroll is a manual describing how to use a device.¡±


    ¡°An alchemical device?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°They were priests.¡±


    ¡°All Egyptian magicians were priests, and these priests made a device that could take a mundane man and turn him into a magician.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°By harnessing spiritual power and pouring it into them. Ashworth told me that it would have taken an insane amount of power, but it¡¯s theoretically possible.¡±


    The hairs of the back on Darius¡¯s neck stood up. ¡°What kind of spiritual power are we talking about?¡±


    There was a brief silence.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± Iset said.


    The vampire straightened up. ¡°I think I do.¡±


    The mummy muttered a quiet word under her breath in a language Darius didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°Iset, could anyone use that device?¡±


    ¡°It depends on how the priests made it. It might require a magician to use it.¡±


    ¡°But it might not?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll finish translating the scroll, then we can take the details to Ashworth.¡±


    ¡°Could someone use the device without the manual?¡±


    ¡°The directions are pretty complex. They¡¯d have to already know the process.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll warn Jacky.¡± Darius pulled his phone from his pocket. As he stepped toward the door, he said, ¡°When you¡¯re done translating the scroll, I want it under lock and key. Put every magical guard we can on it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell Olivia.¡±


    Before Darius was out of the room, he had his phone to his ear. ¡°Miss St. John, this is Special Agent Darius Vasil. I have a very important question for you.¡±

 Chapter 39 - Conrads Apology

    The rest of that day got a little crazy. Darius knocked, then barged into my room without even waiting for me to call to him. Without a moment¡¯s consideration for my well-established sulk, he informed me that he was going back to Wayde¡¯s house, and I was damn well going with him.


    Since this was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to hear, I couldn¡¯t be mad about his intrusion.


    I almost had to run to keep up with the count¡¯s pace as we went down the hall. We passed Conrad on the great landing. It looked like he wanted to say something, but we were down the stairs before he could.


    When I got in the SUV, I hurried to put on my seat belt before Darius peeled out. As we were driving down the winding roads that led to the highway, I made a mental note to ask Jacky for more details about the ¡°couldn¡¯t die, but could be destroyed¡± thing, and how that fit in with car crashes and rolled vehicles.


    ¡°What are we going to do when we get there?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to search for the object you were holding,¡± Darius said. ¡°The stone cylinder. It¡¯s a device created by the Egyptian priests. Summer probably bought it with the scroll. That¡¯s why he was still looking around when you cornered him in the study¡ªhe was searching for the device. When Both told them the scroll was fake, Summer and Wayde must have assumed the device was fake as well.¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡±


    In a bitter voice, the vampire said, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be nice?¡±


    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll find it?¡±


    ¡°I think Olivia would have found it if it was still there, but we¡¯re going to check anyway.¡±


    Using Big Jacky¡¯s patented, systematic search method, Miranda and I tore apart Wayde¡¯s entire house, while Darius made calls and asked questions. Drix said she¡¯d never heard of or seen anything like the device. Frost said he¡¯d seen it, but not recently.


    I waited to report to Darius while he was talking to Aubert.


    ¡°I understand that you can sense magic when you touch an object.¡± Darius paused. ¡°Does that include dormant magic or waiting magic?¡­So you could sense a device?¡± Another pause. ¡°I see.¡±


    I took a step into the room. Darius nodded to me, to acknowledge I was there.


    He said, ¡°Thank you, Mr. Aubert. I¡¯ll call if I have any further questions.¡± He hung up and turned to me. ¡°Well?¡±


    ¡°Nada. What did Aubert say?¡±


    ¡°He said he never touched it and he doesn¡¯t remember seeing it. The Torr only asked him to look for the scroll.¡±


    ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Now we can assume we know what the murderers were after.¡± Darius¡¯s face was clouded with frustration.


    ¡°But that¡¯s good, right?¡± I said.


    ¡°It would be better if we had it in our possession.¡±


    ¡°Well, I mean, yeah, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Iset called me a half-hour ago. It takes at least three souls to make it work.¡±


    When the shock released its choke hold on my vocal cords, I said, ¡°How many people did they kill to create it?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t say. I¡¯m not sure I want to know.¡±


    As we were driving home, the count told me he¡¯d made an appointment to see Ashworth the next day. Until then, he¡¯d be going over his notes, looking for any hint of the device buried in the details of the case.


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    ¡°Don¡¯t you need sleep, Darius?¡± said the biggest hypocrite in the world.


    ¡°I¡¯m usually nocturnal.¡±


    ¡°Usually. Not recently.¡±


    ¡°As a vampire, my stamina works differently. I can build up a sleep debt without losing functionality. I make up for it by sleeping longer a few days later.¡±


    ¡°Geez. Where can I sign up for that superpower?¡±


    ¡°That would require you to sleep at some point.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Count Vasil, it¡¯s on my to-do list.¡±


    A sudden silence descended.


    As I mentally reviewed my weak joke, trying to figure out if I¡¯d said something wrong, Darius said, ¡°Thank you for helping us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Sure. I mean, for what little help I could give.¡±


    ¡°You pointed us in the right direction.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t a vampire; my sleep deprivation was affecting me. Otherwise, I never would have said anything except a socially acceptable ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    I said, ¡°You would have started looking for the device as soon as Iset finished translating the scroll.¡±


    ¡°But we wouldn¡¯t have known for certain that it was there. We also know we¡¯re looking for two murderers, not one.¡±


    This time, I managed to keep my mouth shut, but my traitorous brain pointed out that Special Agent Darius Vasil probably would have found one of the murderers, and that would have led to the other.


    Really, I wasn¡¯t going to let me have anything.


    The count interrupted my brooding.


    ¡°Emerra, I know you¡¯re trying, and I know what it¡¯s costing you. You¡¯ve put all your energy into this. And those nightmares¡ªit isn¡¯t easy, and I won¡¯t let you pretend it is. You¡¯ve taken your suffering and used it to help us catch a murderer. That¡¯s not nothing, and we¡¯re grateful. Thank you.¡±


    My throat was suddenly too tight to answer, but I nodded.


    When we got home, we walked up the back lawn toward the house. The glow of the kitchen lights through the French doors reached out to welcome me. My rumbling stomach reminded me that I¡¯d missed lunch because I was hiding in my room. I tried to imagine what delicious thing Igor might have cooked up for dinner.


    A shadow detached itself from the wall and stepped into the light.


    I stopped. There was no mistaking that silhouette.


    ¡°Can I talk to you, Mera?¡± Conrad said.


    I felt a brief rush of air. When I turned to see what it was, the vampire was gone. Just gone. No poof! No dash lines or cloud of dust! Nothing but a notable absence.


    How polite of him to give us some privacy, I thought.


    Too bad I would have preferred some backup and any possible excuse to avoid this conversation.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±


    ¡°I want to apologize.¡±


    Lift both shoulders for the appearance of a careless shrug. ¡°What for?¡±


    ¡°I know I didn¡¯t tell Darius¡ª¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell Darius.¡± Nope. Your voice is slipping. I forced it back to the nonchalant setting. ¡°So you didn¡¯t break your promise.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit.¡±


    I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be relieved that I didn¡¯t want to make a big deal out of it and play along.


    Conrad stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets. ¡°You were furious.¡± He added in a mumble, ¡°And hurt.¡±


    My nonchalance vanished as fast as the vampire.


    ¡°So what?¡± I snapped. ¡°You thought the nightmares might be important, so you told Jacky about them. You did it for a good reason. I get it. It was good that you did it. God knows, I¡¯m dense enough, it probably wouldn¡¯t have occurred to me. So it¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s not worry about it.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re still upset.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get over it.¡±


    I tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me.


    ¡°I want to make it up to you.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that. What kind of a stupid world would it be if you had to apologize for doing the right thing?¡± I stepped to his side.


    He put a hand out and caught my arm so I¡¯d turn to look at him.


    ¡°Please, Emerra. I like it better when you¡¯re comfortable around me.¡±


    I gazed at him¡ªhis sad eyes, his drooped ears¡ªand I laughed.


    ¡°You have to stop,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m going to get in trouble.¡±


    His ears flicked up.


    I explained, ¡°You look like a puppy, Conrad. It makes me want to pat you on the head and tell you you¡¯re a good boy.¡±


    He looked away. His ears twitched between upright and various levels of flatness. He looked annoyed. Or embarrassed. Maybe both.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, ¡°but you do.¡±


    ¡°How can I make it up to you?¡±


    ¡°I told you not to worry about it.¡±


    I meant it this time. That embarrassed expression had cheered me up a lot.


    ¡°There¡¯s got to be something,¡± he said.


    Well, he was the dope who insisted.


    ¡°Let me pat your head,¡± I said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Let me pat your head. We¡¯ll call it even.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you want?¡±


    ¡°Your fur¡¯s soft! It¡¯s not my fault you take it for granted.¡±


    With his hands once more in his pockets, he bent at the waist until I could reach his head. I put my hand between his ears and pressed it into his coat. The fur tickled the sensitive skin between my fingers. I patted him a few times, ran my fingers toward the back of his neck once or twice, and finished by wiggling my hand back and forth to ruffle his ears.


    ¡°There,¡± I said, grinning. ¡°Good wolf-boy.¡±


    I was rewarded with another embarrassed expression.


    I hooked my arm in his and pulled him toward the kitchen. ¡°Tell me Igor has dinner ready.¡±

 Chapter 40 - Talking to Ashworth

    Mansions are a lot less impressive when you live in one yourself. Owen Ashworth had a modern mansion. In the days before I¡¯d met Big Jacky, I would have been mouth-open gawking at all the space and fancy furniture, but now I was inducted into the halls of snobbery with the following thoughts:


    It looks so sterile.


    Big Jacky¡¯s art is nicer.


    And his chairs are more comfortable.


    And, my favorite, I¡¯ll bet Jacky¡¯s mansion is more expensive to upkeep¡ªas if that was some badge of honor.


    Mind you, I didn¡¯t say any of these. That would be impolite, and all snobs should have impeccable manners.


    There were plenty of times I could have said something. Ashworth, even while talking to Darius, would occasionally glance my direction, as if waiting for my input.


    The count had already said, ¡°You have a lovely home, Mr. Ashworth,¡± and I thought that about covered it, so I kept my mouth shut.


    ¡°Three souls is only the final trigger,¡± the torrman said to Darius. ¡°The upfront power to set the device was done when it was created.¡±


    ¡°There were no details of that in the scroll,¡± Vasil said.


    ¡°There didn¡¯t have to be. That¡¯s the basic laws of magic.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying more people¡¯s souls have been sacrificed to this thing?¡±


    ¡°Many more¡ªhundreds, if not thousands¡ªbut if the device is stable, then time becomes irrelevant. You could activate it much later.¡±


    ¡°Thousands of years later?¡±


    Ashworth nodded.


    ¡°How many times could it be activated?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Any number. As long as you were willing to put in three more souls, you could get the result.¡±


    ¡°Why three? Why not one?¡±


    ¡°Well, I did my best with the calculations, and I think it¡¯s the minimum amount of power required to turn a mundane into a magician. Since the scroll¡¯s recommendation matches my conclusion, I have some confidence in it, but I can only tell you more if I have the scroll detailing it¡¯s construction.¡±


    ¡°With any luck, that scroll was destroyed long ago.¡±


    ¡°Darius, are you sure this device is even real?¡±


    ¡°We have two missing souls, Mr. Ashworth.¡±


    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s true.¡± The torrman frowned.


    ¡°My concern is whether or not the device will do what it¡¯s supposed to.¡±


    ¡°The theory is solid.¡± Owen rolled up the scroll and passed it across his gleaming black dining table. ¡°Whether or not the device works will come down to its construction, but the magic is legitimate.¡±


    Darius took the scroll. ¡°And it could take anyone and make them a magician?¡±


    ¡°It would give a mundane the power to manipulate magic, and there¡¯s a small chance it might be able to create a witch¡ªthough, I don¡¯t want to commit myself to that statement¡ªbut, as you know, the ability to manipulate magic isn¡¯t the full measure of a magician.¡±


    Darius Vasil might have known¡ªI sure didn¡¯t.


    ¡°How so?¡± I said.


    When Ashworth turned to me, I remembered why I had been so effortlessly silent during their discussion. I felt a blush creep into my cheeks, but I refused to look away.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Miss Cole. You¡¯ve been your usual quiet self¡ª¡±


    Vasil glanced my way. Probably to make sure he¡¯d brought the right person.


    ¡°¡ªbut you always have a relevant question. I take it you¡¯re asking why manipulating magic wouldn¡¯t be enough to make you a good magician?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Because you also need some measure of talent.¡±


    ¡°You mean, like, natural ability?¡±


    ¡°Magicians use the word ¡®talent¡¯ to refer to the ability to perceive magic.¡±


    ¡°See it?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily. Some people do see magic, but there are other ways. One of the most common ways is to sense it¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sense it how?¡±


    Ashworth smiled with actual humor, and my heart skipped.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain, Miss Cole. It¡¯s like trying to describe a color to someone who has no eyes.¡± He pointed a lazy finger at me. ¡°Unless¡­can you sense magic?¡±


    I glanced at the vampire.


    A fraction of a second later, Vasil said, ¡°Not as far as we can tell.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Ashworth¡¯s eyes never left me. ¡°Then I guess the best way to put it would be to say that it¡¯s a lot like smelling something. You can tell a lot by a scent¡ªwhat it is, whether it¡¯s nice or it¡¯s gross, where it¡¯s coming from¡ªbut it all depends on how good your nose is. A talented magician will know a lot about the magic when they sense it. A less talented magician may only register that it¡¯s there.¡±


    Darius said, ¡°So this device will increase their power to manipulate magic, but it won¡¯t increase their talent?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s unlikely to. But I suppose that opinion is based on my theory. If I¡¯m wrong, it could do both.¡±


    ¡°What theory?¡± I asked.


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    Ashworth laced his fingers together and leaned back before delivering his lecture. He reminded me of Professor Newton, the Dead End philosopher: pompous and enjoying it.


    ¡°We¡¯ve never found any evidence that the talent to perceive magic is linked with the ability to manipulate it. Throughout history, we¡¯ve found exceptions where people could perceive it without being able to manipulate it, but because a greater power to perceive often accompanied a greater power to manipulate, the two traits were traditionally thought of as connected. My theory is that they aren¡¯t connected at all¡ªthat they¡¯re separate aspects¡ªand that the only reason people thought they were connected is because the greater ability to perceive magic meant the person found it easier to work with the magic.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying that practice can increase power?¡±


    Ashworth laughed. ¡°Oh, no. Not at all. That¡¯s the last thing you¡¯ll ever hear me saying. Miss Cole, have you been dogging around Darius¡¯s footsteps for a while?¡±


    Dogging?


    ¡°Yes,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Have you met Mr. Aubert?¡±


    ¡°Joel Aubert? Yeah. I had coffee with him.¡±


    ¡°That whiff is living proof that no amount of book learning can make up for a lack of talent and power.¡±


    I bristled. Mundane I was learning to accept. The magicians didn¡¯t seem to mean anything rude by it. But whiff?


    Ashworth saw my face. ¡°Forgive me. That must have sounded incredibly rude. I wasn¡¯t trying to be offensive¡ª¡±


    ¡°So it came naturally?¡±


    That stupid mouth of mine. If only I could train it to work slower than my brain.


    Ashworth ignored my comment.


    ¡°Mr. Aubert should be admired,¡± he said. ¡°His determination paid off. He went further than any of us ever thought he would. But despite his years of dedicated work, he¡¯ll never be a great sorcerer.¡±


    Darius said, ¡°What if the device was used on a mundane with no perception?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d probably be nothing but a waste.¡±


    ¡°Or it¡¯d result in a really clumsy magician,¡± I said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be like a blind and deaf giant stumbling around? They¡¯d have all that power, but all they¡¯d do is wind up crashing into things?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to contradict you, Miss Cole,¡± Ashworth said, ¡°but that¡¯s not how magic works. It¡¯d be more like a blind person trying to thread a needle while wearing thick gloves. They have the thread, they have the needle, and they might get it right by accident¡ªbut they¡¯d somehow have to know they did so they could pull the thread through.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    The torrman turned back to Darius. ¡°On the other hand, my theory may be well known, but it isn¡¯t well accepted, so it¡¯s probable your murderer wouldn¡¯t agree with me¡ªif they¡¯ve ever heard of me.¡±


    Darius laid a soft emphasis on the plural: ¡°Murderers.¡±


    ¡°Murderers? More than one?¡±


    The vampire held up two fingers.


    Ashworth¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°How could you possibly know that?¡±


    ¡°I have it from a reliable witness.¡±


    It took me a second to realize Darius was referring to me. My heart swelled with pride.


    Ashworth said, ¡°It must be an odd kind of witness if you know how many there are but not who they are.¡±


    ¡°It happens more often than you¡¯d think,¡± Darius said. ¡°What did you mean by ¡®if they¡¯d heard of you?¡¯¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s every chance that the person¡ªpeople who did this aren¡¯t magicians.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a closed-loop alchemical device?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± Ashworth pointed to the papyrus roll. ¡°Anyone who can read that scroll would be able to use the device.¡±


    ¡°So we could be looking for mundanes?¡±


    ¡°And that would explain why Wayde was shot, instead of dealt with in a more subtle way.¡±


    Darius didn¡¯t respond at first. He raised his hand and brushed his cheekbone with a thumb.


    ¡°Mr. Ashworth,¡± he said, ¡°if Trevon Wayde had died under mysterious circumstances, instead of being shot, would you have sent someone out?¡±


    ¡°An older professor with a fake scroll? I wouldn¡¯t have even bothered sending anyone to watch him if Aubert hadn¡¯t been available. If Big Jacky hadn¡¯t told us the soul was missing, I doubt most of us would have cared that he died.¡±


    You might not have cared, I thought. Thorburn would have cared¡ª


    My brain stopped me. It was nice to assume that Ashworth was projecting his own opinion onto the others, but I didn¡¯t know how much the Torr had to deal with. Maybe it would have been a small matter to them.


    ¡°That would have been a mistake,¡± Vasil pointed out. ¡°Did you sense or see any magic while you were handling the scroll?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Would you mind looking again?¡±


    Ashworth gave the vampire an odd look, but he took the scroll and unrolled it. He spent a few minutes gazing at it, occasionally touching the surface. Then he rolled it up and passed it back.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Ashworth said. ¡°Did I fail some kind of test?¡±


    Darius said, ¡°Not at all. Mr. Uhler didn¡¯t sense anything either.¡±


    ¡°If you had Cosmo¡¯s opinion, you hardly needed mine.¡±


    ¡°It never hurts to get a second opinion, especially if the matter¡¯s in question.¡±


    ¡°Why would it be in question?¡±


    ¡°Another witch had the opportunity to touch the scroll. She said she sensed a faint magic from it.¡±


    ¡°Then she was wrong, it faded, or this is a different scroll. Was she powerful?¡±


    The count didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Darius?¡± Ashworth prompted.


    ¡°Hm?¡±


    ¡°Was she one of the powerful witches?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not certain, but I doubt it.¡±


    ¡°Then she¡¯s probably wrong.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to ask Aubert if he ever touched it.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t bother. If the magic was powerful enough that Aubert could have sensed it, it wouldn¡¯t have faded that quickly unless a magician had cast a recent, immediate spell on it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting idea, isn¡¯t it, Mr. Ashworth?¡± Before the sorcerer had a chance to respond, Darius said, ¡°I hope you understand, everything you¡¯ve seen and learned has to be kept under a vow of silence.¡±


    ¡°Of course. I take it you haven¡¯t shown the scroll to Reynell?¡±


    ¡°Ms. Reynell admitted you knew more about the theory of these devices.¡±


    Ashworth grinned. ¡°How generous of her. Then, if you find the device¡ª¡±


    ¡°If we find the device, Mr. Noctis is going to take custody of it, and there¡¯s every chance that he¡¯ll change our informal request for silence into a real vow.¡±


    ¡°Ah. I suppose that makes sense.¡±


    Darius rose to his feet. I¡¯d been ¡°dogging¡± him long enough, I knew all the signs and stood up less than a second after him.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid we have to be going,¡± Darius said. ¡°We have another appointment, and it¡¯s a long drive. If I have any other questions, will you be available to take my calls?¡±


    ¡°Until this is over, I¡¯ll make it a priority to answer you. Would you like me to text you if I¡¯m stepping into a prolonged spelling session?¡±


    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be necessary, but thank you. And thank you for your time, Mr. Ashworth.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Good day, Darius.¡± He turned to me. ¡°It was good to see you again, Miss Cole. Hopefully we can meet again in the future.¡±


    Since he was looking me right in the eyes when he said that, I was rather proud of myself for only nodding, instead of stammering out something idiotic.


    As we walked out to the car, I looked over the leafless lawn. Even Ashworth¡¯s yard was sterile. He must have had the leaves bagged, but the bags were nowhere in sight. It was orderly, but it lacked the smell and the crunch, crunch noises I loved about October.


    ¡°You were unusually quiet in there,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m working on my professionalism.¡±


    Before Darius disappeared around the car, I saw his slight, disbelieving smile.


    I got in the car and buckled my seat belt. ¡°Ashworth makes me kind of uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s too good looking.¡±


    ¡°Too good looking? I didn¡¯t know that condition was possible. The poor man.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not only that. It¡¯s like, he¡¯s so good looking, I feel drawn to him, but the rest of my brain¡ªthe part not attached to my eyeballs¡ªis warning me to be careful.¡±


    Vasil smiled as he put the car in gear. It was a full smile this time. I finally saw his fangs. He was right; they looked like oversized canines. ¡°Perhaps I can put your mind at ease. Ashworth is a classic, self-serving aspirant. If you think of him like that, you¡¯ll know how to deal with him.¡±


    ¡°Darius, I don¡¯t even know what an aspirant is.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s someone who¡¯s ambitious. He wants as much power as he can get his hands on.¡± He added, as an afterthought, ¡°He¡¯s been asking about you.¡±


    That did not put my mind at ease.


    ¡°Why?¡± I said.


    ¡°Because he doesn¡¯t know your powers. He likes to know the powers of the people around him.¡±


    ¡°In case he can use them?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a sorcerer, Emerra. They often band together to get the larger spells done. You make it sound harsh, but that¡¯s how they work. That¡¯s why Joel Aubert is tolerated. He may not be able to aid in the casting, but his knowledge is useful.¡±


    My mind resonated with the word tolerated, as if someone had plucked a guitar string in my head.


    To be useful means you¡¯ll be tolerated.


    I shook my head to dismiss my dismal thoughts.


    ¡°On to Director Kiel¡¯s office?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Do we have a warrant this time?¡±


    ¡°We do not. But I only have a few questions.¡±


    ¡°What was it that Ashworth said? ¡®Anyone who can read that scroll¡ª¡¯¡±


    ¡°¡®¡ªwould be able to use the device.¡¯ Yes. I still only have a few questions, but I am very eager to ask them.¡±

 Chapter 41 - Interview with Kiel

    Despite the fact it was a Saturday, Kiel had asked us to meet him at the college. The director didn¡¯t look happy to see us. I chalked that up to the fact he was working on a weekend.


    He let us into his office, just like last time, and he motioned for us to sit, just like last time.


    ¡°How can I help you, Agent Vasil?¡± Kiel asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of a few questions.¡±


    ¡°Then please hurry.¡±


    ¡°First, did Wayde ever mention an Egyptian scroll to you? He would have acquired it three to four months ago.¡±


    Spring returning to Narnia was less impressive than the melting of Peter Kiel from an aloof college director to a human being. His posture eased, his face relaxed, he sat forward in his chair¡ªeven his voice was warmer.


    ¡°An Egyptian scroll? What can you tell me about it?¡±


    I wondered if Vasil was going to remind him that we wanted him to tell us about it, but the vampire didn¡¯t do that.


    ¡°The script was Late Egyptian¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hieratic?¡±


    Vasil nodded and went on. ¡°It was written on papyrus.¡±


    ¡°How many papers?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°How many papers were glued together to make the scroll?¡±


    ¡°Ten.¡±


    ¡°Only ten?¡± The director thought about that for a moment, then said, ¡°Has it been translated?¡±


    ¡°Director Kiel, can you take a moment to answer my question?¡±


    ¡°Oh. What was it?¡±


    ¡°Did Professor Wayde ever tell you about it?¡±


    ¡°Why would Wayde have it?¡±


    There was a lot of anger riding behind those words. Maybe the ice Kiel had cultivated in his soul was meant to hold back his emotions.


    He continued, ¡°What that man knew about Egypt wouldn¡¯t fill a thimble. No one in their right mind would have trusted him¡ª¡±


    Kiel stopped. He looked at Darius.


    Count Vasil stare back at him. Impassive.


    ¡°Was it counterfeit?¡± Kiel asked.


    ¡°The script was real,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°But the scroll wasn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re still making inquiries. Did Wayde ever mention the scroll to you?¡±


    ¡°No. Which is further evidence the scroll wasn¡¯t real.¡±


    ¡°Has Wayde ever asked for help from you before?¡±


    ¡°Our fields of study didn¡¯t overlap much.¡±


    ¡°I was told that Wayde specialized in ancient religions. Did that not include the ancient Egyptian religion?¡±


    ¡°Professor Wayde was a theoretician who stood on the shoulders of explorers and linguists in order to make his arguments. Everything he learned about Egypt, he learned from people like me. He would sit in his armchair and dream up ideas after reading our translations.¡±


    ¡°I see. So he wouldn¡¯t have been able to translate the scroll himself?¡±


    ¡°Not remotely.¡±


    ¡°Director, we¡¯ve seen Wayde¡¯s internet history. In the three weeks before he died, he¡¯d visited several sites that would have helped him translate the scroll.¡±


    ¡°Three weeks? That might be enough time for him to learn how to write his own name. Even then, he probably would have gotten it wrong.¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯re saying that Wayde couldn¡¯t have translated it, even if he went to the internet?¡±


    ¡°Not unless he submitted the entire thing to an expert. Three weeks is barely enough time to get a decent grounding in the rules of the language, and it only would have worked if he¡¯d neglected everything else¡ªincluding sleep.¡±


    ¡°So it was a matter of time?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Trevon Wayde didn¡¯t have the time or the talent to translate the scroll without help.¡±


    The vampire scooted to the front of his chair. ¡°I¡¯d like to make this perfectly clear¡ªin your expert opinion, there was no way that Professor Trevon Wayde could have interpreted that scroll in three weeks without help.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±


    ¡°What if I told you I had evidence that the scroll was accurately translated?¡±


    ¡°Then the only conclusion is that he had help.¡±


    ¡°Did you help him, Director Kiel?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I understand that in this college you¡¯re the foremost expert on ancient Egyptian languages.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the foremost expert in this half of the country, Agent Vasil, but Wayde never brought me the scroll.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me where you were on the evening of October seventeenth?¡±


    An invisible glacier slid over Kiel¡¯s features. Our frozen director of anthropology was back.


    ¡°You must be joking,¡± he said.


    ¡°Do you remember?¡± Darius prompted.


    ¡°That was the night Wayde was killed. You think I might have killed him. Why?¡±


    Darius flicked his hand open. ¡°It¡¯s only a formality. I have reason to believe that the person who killed Wayde was capable of translating a scroll written in Late Egyptian.¡±


    ¡°I hear that¡¯s a rare talent,¡± I added.


    Kiel¡¯s eyes moved from me, back to Vasil. ¡°I was at my home, reading. My wife was there, but she was working in her office. I don¡¯t think she can vouch for me.¡±


    I was surprised to learn Kiel was married. After all the professors I¡¯d met, I kind of assumed that bachelorhood was a part of the job requirement.


    ¡°No one else was there?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Agent, since you¡¯re investigating the matter, I¡¯m guessing there was something dubious about the scroll¡¯s history. Wayde wouldn¡¯t have brought it to me. If I had learned about it, I would have done everything I could to get him fired.¡±


    He said the word fired with all the authority and bluntness you¡¯d expect from an officer commanding an execution squad.


    ¡°Even if he hadn¡¯t done anything wrong?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Possession is proof he¡¯d done something wrong,¡± Kiel said. ¡°If he was innocent, he would¡¯ve had the person who brought it to him dealt with.¡±


    ¡°What if it was left on his doorstep?¡±


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t, was it? Another point to consider, Agent¡ªif he had brought the scroll to me, it wouldn¡¯t have taken me three weeks to translate it. A ten page scroll? It would have taken me a few hours. That kind of time frame suggests that the person who helped him was only a talented amateur, not an expert. And while I am the foremost expert in this area, there are other people who can read Late Egyptian. Most of the professors in my department dabble in it.¡±


    ¡°Who would you say is the most talented?¡±


    Kiel paused to think, then said, ¡°Bailey has the most years, VanWessel uses it the most for his work, but Frost seems to be the most eager. He comes to me for help more than the others.¡±


    Darius and I were both silent. I don¡¯t know about the vampire, but I felt a chill sweep over my neck when I heard Frost¡¯s name.


    How fitting.


    ¡°Director,¡± Vasil said, ¡°has Frost been coming to you with more questions recently?¡±


    Kiel¡¯s scowl rippled with grudging discomfort. ¡°¡­Yes.¡±


    ¡°About when would you say did this start?¡±


    Another hesitation. ¡°About a month ago.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Director,¡± Darius said. ¡°I appreciate your willingness to talk to us.¡±


    We stood up.


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± Kiel asked.


    ¡°Is there something else you think we should know?¡±


    ¡°Your departure seems rather abrupt.¡±


    ¡°Do you happen to know if Professor Frost is here?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him, but he¡¯s usually here for a few hours on Saturday.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    We left. I set my pace to vampiric power walk as we set off down the halls.


    ¡°Well?¡± I said.


    ¡°Well what?¡±


    ¡°Fine then, I¡¯ll say it. It was Frost.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think that?¡±


    ¡°You heard what Kiel said! Frost¡¯s been trying to translate something for almost a month. He was Wayde¡¯s best friend, so Wayde would have taken the scroll to him before anyone else. It¡¯s got to be him.¡±


    ¡°I agree, but if we¡¯re right, that only means Frost translated the scroll. It¡¯s not evidence that he was involved with Wayde¡¯s murder.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s suspicious that he didn¡¯t even mention that he could read Egyptian?¡±


    ¡°I do think it¡¯s suspicious. That¡¯s why we¡¯re going to talk to him right now.¡±


    He opened the door to Frost¡¯s office and walked inside. There was a gaggle of students standing at the edge of the room. Rena Drix was among them. When she saw us, she left the group and came over.


    The count said, ¡°Is Professor Frost here?¡±


    ¡°He left ten minutes ago,¡± Drix said.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I had nowhere else to go. Wayde¡¯s office is locked, and I didn¡¯t want to ask Kiel to open it. Mr. Vasil, the police have announced that they¡¯ve found Louis Summer¡¯s body.¡±


    Darius sighed through his nose and stared over the heads of the students¡ªthen suddenly looked at her.


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± he said.


    ¡°Is Louis Summer dead?¡± Drix asked.


    ¡°How did you hear about that?¡±


    ¡°One of the students came in to tell us. He read about it online. Someone saw Summer¡¯s car¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªand called it in. I know. I didn¡¯t expect the news to break already. Did they tell Frost about it?¡±


    Rena¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Yes. That was¡­¡± She stopped.


    ¡°Go on, Miss Drix,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°That was right before he left. He came out with his mug, but he stopped and asked us what we were talking about. Then he kind of went still, put his mug down, and told Harvey that he was leaving for the day.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t say anything else?¡±


    ¡°No. He went back into his office, grabbed his bag, and left.¡±


    ¡°Emerra, what are you doing?¡± Darius asked.


    I held up my phone. ¡°Getting Frost¡¯s home address from Iset.¡±


    Half of the vampire¡¯s mouth lifted in a tight-lipped smirk. ¡°Well done.¡±


    There¡¯s nothing like a compliment from fake nobility. Pin that crayon-colored, paper medal right to my puffed-out chest. It only took three tries before I could subdue my grin.


    ¡°Shall we?¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Can we walk a little slower this time?¡± I asked. ¡°If I lose another pants size, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ll implode.¡±

 Chapter 42 - Frosts House

    Ryan Frost stood over his craft desk and stared down at the papers scattered on the surface.


    He¡¯d had the nagging feeling that something was wrong ever since he¡¯d arrived home. He tried to dismiss it. He was upset. Lots of things were wrong. It wasn¡¯t the house¡ªit was him. But under his fingers was evidence he couldn¡¯t ignore.


    Someone had moved the papers.


    It wasn¡¯t much, and he wasn¡¯t such a clean person that he would normally notice, but he¡¯d pulled them out that morning, and he¡¯d been careful to make sure they weren¡¯t overlapping his latest project. It needed to finish drying.


    The corner of that project was now covered.


    The doors had been locked, but that didn¡¯t mean anything.


    A numbness seeped into his body from the air around him, leaving him chilled and dull.


    When his doorbell rang, he jumped.


    It took some time before he could hear anything other than the pounding of his heart in his ears, but when he could, he heard the doorbell sound again.


    He walked to the door of his craft room and opened it wide, but before he stepped out, he hesitated. He reached around the door and twisted the lock. He pulled the door closed behind him until he felt it latch.


    I had already endured two longish car rides that day. It left me feeling fidgety. It wasn¡¯t long before I started playing with my hands behind my back. After that, I took up rocking from my heels to my toes.


    Then my mouth started moving.


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s not home.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s home,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°It¡¯s been five minutes, and he hasn¡¯t answered the door. How can you be sure?¡±


    ¡°Because he¡¯s on the other side of that door, breathing rather loudly.¡±


    I stared at him. ¡°You¡¯re kind of freaky.¡± When Darius threw a glare my way, I raised both hands. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t let the opinion of the bald, black-eyed weirdo bother you.¡±


    We both turned back to the door.


    ¡°So he knows we¡¯re here?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And he¡¯s choosing not to answer.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s him? I mean, what if someone else is in there, and they took him hostage?¡±


    Darius grunted. ¡°I wish you hadn¡¯t said that.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because now I can¡¯t get the idea out of my head, but if I bust in there to make sure that Frost¡¯s all right, a lot of important people are going to want to know why, and if I say it¡¯s because I could hear someone breathing but they wouldn¡¯t open the door, do you know what they¡¯ll say?¡±


    ¡°That you¡¯re kind of freaky?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯re going to wait out here?¡±


    ¡°For as long as it takes.¡±


    Ugh.


    I slammed on the door a few times with my fist. ¡°Hey, Professor Frost,¡± I yelled, ¡°I really need to pee. Do you think we could speed this up a bit?¡±


    Still no answer.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Agent Vasil,¡± I yelled. ¡°He doesn¡¯t bite.¡±


    I glanced over at my friendly neighborhood vampire, just to confirm it, but he was too busy rubbing his forehead to notice.


    There was some noise at the door. It opened to reveal the worried face of Ryan Frost.


    ¡°Bathroom?¡± I said.


    He opened the door wider. ¡°Turn right at that wall, go down the hall, second door on the right.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re my hero, sir.¡±


    I departed immediately. The count would have to find his own way in.


    Once my primary concern was dealt with, I could slow down. As I washed my hands, I gazed around the bathroom. It was barren, like you¡¯d expect a bachelor¡¯s place to be, but the hand towel was fluffy and clean.


    When I left the bathroom, Frost was nowhere in sight. I dawdled down the hall so I could look at the professor¡¯s decorations.


    Wayde had collected a bit of everything, so his house had looked like a curio shop, but Frost specialized. His entire hallway wall was covered with a crowd of plain, black picture frames. Each one was carefully spaced to be an equal distance from its neighbors. The similar frames and exact placement created a kind of harmony that made up for the strange sizes and wild variety of documents they held.


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    There was a tiny scrap of paper with nothing on it except a signature: A. Lincoln. There was a page from an illuminated manuscript that was at least fourteen by sixteen inches. There was a paper that could have been torn out of a ledger. Beside it was a sketch from one of Leonardo da Vinci¡¯s notebooks. There was stuff from every age and every culture I could think of. The only thing they had in common was that they were flat.


    I stopped at the Da Vinci sketch. I was still inspecting it when Frost came to find me.


    ¡°Do you like it?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s incredible,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you think so. It¡¯s one of my favorites.¡±


    ¡°But it can¡¯t be real. Something like that would have to be worth at least a million dollars.¡±


    ¡°Well, certainly more than I could afford. None of them are real, Miss Cole.¡±


    My eyes wandered over the massive grid of historical documents. ¡°None of them?¡±


    ¡°I know my real-or-fake game isn¡¯t very exciting, but this is my hobby. Trev cooked, and I make replicas.¡±


    ¡°Dude, that¡¯s awesome! Did you make one for Wayde?¡±


    Frost¡¯s grief-weighed smile appeared. ¡°I did. I gave it to him for his birthday. Did you ever see his study?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°It was Ortelius¡¯s world map, up on the wall, by his window.¡±


    ¡°That thing was gorgeous! How do you get such old paper?¡±


    ¡°Coffee and instant coffee powder usually does the trick. Paper is easy. The hard part is when the document isn¡¯t on paper. Or if the document has water stains that smeared the ink. I try to make each one as realistic as possible, and it takes forever to get the smears just-so.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I know I hang around with an FBI agent, so there¡¯s probably no non-threatening way to ask this¡ªdo you ever try to pass them off as real?¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. My signature and the date are always on the back in modern ink. Besides, they may look good, but they wouldn¡¯t fool an expert for a second.¡±


    ¡°How long does it take to make them?¡±


    ¡°It depends, but the short answer is, a long time.¡± He pointed from one frame to another. ¡°Three weeks. Three months.¡± He pointed to the illuminated manuscript. ¡°That one took the better part of two years, and that¡¯s not counting how long it took me to ship in the special ink.¡±


    ¡°Two years?¡±


    ¡°It took two or three weeks of experimenting until I could get the gilding to look right.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see a lot of other gilding here.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because I swore to myself, ¡®never again!¡¯¡±


    There I was, laughing and chatting with a possible murderer. Either that demonstrated the power of art or my complete lack of focus, and I wasn¡¯t sure which.


    As we passed down the hall, he pointed to a piece with oriental writing.


    ¡°I can get the look of parchment pretty easily,¡± he said, ¡°but for that one, I had to order the mulberry paper.¡±


    I paused to examine it. ¡°I can see why.¡±


    The texture would have been almost impossible to replicate.


    Further on, I stopped in front of another frame. I recognized the writing surface from glaring far too long at the scroll. It was another textured surface that would be almost impossible to replicate.


    ¡°That¡¯s real papyrus, isn¡¯t it?¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a copy of a page from the Book of the Dead.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t have cared less about the content. ¡°You can age papyrus?¡±


    ¡°I can.¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Professor Frost, I wish you hadn¡¯t said that.¡±


    Vasil appeared beside us. I was half expecting it, so I didn¡¯t jump, but Frost did.


    ¡°You can¡¯t like everyone,¡± Darius said to me.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t like Summer!¡± I protested.


    ¡°True. It¡¯s a damn shame he was one of the victims¡ªhe would have made a wonderful suspect.¡± He turned to Frost. ¡°How did you get this papyrus?¡±


    ¡°I bought it,¡± Frost said. ¡°It¡¯s not hard to come by online.¡±


    ¡°How many sheets did you buy?¡±


    Frost¡¯s face was so pale, it was going gray. I felt bad about saying Darius didn¡¯t bite. It was technically true, but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t ravage your brain.


    ¡°It was years ago,¡± Frost said. ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure we can look it up if we have to,¡± Darius said. ¡°How many sheets do you have left?¡±


    Frost¡¯s mouth opened and closed several times. He lowered his head for a moment, then raised it again. His voice trembled. ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Because if you bought twenty and now you only have one or two, I¡¯m going to ask to see all the projects those pages went into.¡±


    ¡°What about the sheets I threw away? A man makes mistakes, Agent! Not every writing surface I work on winds up on my wall.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fair point, Professor.¡± Darius paused. ¡°How many mistakes did you make?¡±


    I could almost see the giant arrow shaft sticking out of Frost¡¯s chest, still vibrating from the impact.


    The professor clenched and unclenched his hands. He swallowed. ¡°Agent Vasil, I feel like you¡¯re attacking me. I don¡¯t want to talk about this, and I don¡¯t think you can force me to.¡±


    ¡°I understand that you heard about Louis Summer¡¯s death.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any thoughts on that?¡±


    ¡°All I know is that he was found dead at the bottom of a ravine. Was it suicide?¡±


    ¡°We have reason to believe it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What reason?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to say. What about you?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Do you have reason to believe it wasn¡¯t a suicide?¡±


    Frost turned his feet toward me, but he wasn¡¯t brave enough to show his back to Darius. ¡°Miss Cole, I assume that you¡¯ve finished using my bathroom?¡±


    Out from my mouth burbled the following: ¡°Please, Professor. We can help you.¡±


    Darius frowned and looked away. Frost¡¯s eyes filled with tears, but he managed to blink them back.


    ¡°You want to help me?¡± His voice was choked, but it grew firmer as he went on. ¡°I find that hard to believe.¡±


    Even awake, I could feel the cold horror and the hot specks of blood.


    ¡°Professor Frost,¡± I said, ¡°you were his best friend.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t blink them back this time; the tears rolled down his face, large and gloopy.


    ¡°Leave,¡± he demanded.


    I said, ¡°If you won¡¯t let us help you, will you help us? It still needs one more!¡±


    ¡°Emerra!¡± Darius snapped.


    ¡°Sorry. I wasn¡¯t supposed to say that.¡±


    ¡°Leave,¡± Frost repeated.


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you want, we¡¯ll leave,¡± Darius said. ¡°Before we go, would you like to tell us what you¡¯ll be doing for the rest of the day?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true. You don¡¯t have to tell us your alibi for the night Louis Summer died either, but you might want to, since you¡¯re a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation.¡±


    ¡°Good bye, Agent Vasil. Miss Cole.¡±


    We left. I was still close enough to the door, I heard it lock behind us. We walked toward the SUV.


    ¡°How bad did I screw up?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t,¡± Darius said. ¡°Frost had already decided he wasn¡¯t going to tell us anything. I think he was closer to talking to you than he ever was to me.¡±


    ¡°Would you have helped him?¡±


    ¡°Do you think he killed Wayde?¡±


    ¡°I think he was sitting in the chair, watching, when Wayde was killed. And I think he¡¯s still scared.¡±


    ¡°Scared or not, that makes him an accomplice to murder.¡± The vampire sighed. ¡°Two scrolls,¡± he grumbled. ¡°¡®She was wrong, it faded, or this is a different scroll.¡¯ That¡¯s why Drix couldn¡¯t sense the magic. Frost had made a copy.¡±


    ¡°You heard him¡ªsome of those things take months to make.¡±


    ¡°He had months.¡±


    ¡°Even if he was translating?¡±


    ¡°It fits, Emerra. You know it does.¡±


    ¡°But that means the one we have is the copy.¡±


    ¡°And the other one is still out there, so whoever has the device can still use it.¡± The count pulled out his phone and dialed. ¡°Kosh, this is Vasil. I need a judge to get an exclusive warrant.¡± Pause. ¡°How long?¡± Another pause. ¡°Then can you send over one of our agents? I need a house watched¡­Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll stay here until they do.¡±


    The vampire hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.


    ¡°Do I get to be part of a stakeout?¡± I asked.


    My tough-girl image was going right up. I was already dressed in black, and now I could pretend to be a hard-boiled detective, staring grimly at a suspect¡¯s house. All I needed were some shades.


    Darius said, ¡°You went to the bathroom, right?¡±

 Chapter 43 - Discussing the Case

    Stakeouts are boring.


    B. O. R. I. N. G. Boring.


    An hour in, I decided that Darius could keep his real badge. If getting one required sitting in a car, doing nothing, for that long, then slap a label on my chest: Hello! My name is Miss Civilian.


    At least I didn¡¯t have to stay conscious for all of it. I had a vampire with sleep-deprivation superpowers. Without meaning to, I faded out. The count didn¡¯t bother waking me.


    The nightmare seeped up from the peaceful nothingness.


    When I jerked myself awake, the car door was open. Darius was beside me, his hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he whispered. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay. You¡¯re okay.¡±


    I gulped and tried to slow my breathing.


    There was someone else out there, standing behind Darius. I knew it was a woman¡ªI could see her skirt and long pony tail¡ªbut it was too dark to make anything else out.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Darius asked.


    My face flushed, but I nodded.


    The vampire didn¡¯t look like he believed me, but he decided not to press the issue. ¡°Anything new?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    ¡°Almost three hours. Our relief is here. I was briefing her on the situation before we left.¡±


    ¡°Kay.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll only be another minute.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Darius shut the door, and I took the chance to stretch in my seat. I was checking the time on my phone when the count climbed into the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°Seat belt,¡± he said.


    I put mine on. ¡°Did anything happen while I was asleep?¡±


    ¡°No. Frost¡¯s been very quiet.¡±


    ¡°Have you had a chance to talk to a judge or something?¡±


    ¡°Not yet. We only have a few judges in this area that we can appeal to for one of our warrants. If they¡¯re busy, we¡¯ll have to wait.¡±


    ¡°There are judges that know about the Torr?¡±


    ¡°They know about the Torr, they know about magic, and they know that our cases won¡¯t be tried in a normal court.¡±


    I wrapped my arms around my stomach.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    ¡°Hungry?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. You may not remember, but people get like that sometimes.¡±


    He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. ¡°It¡¯ll be close to dinner when we get home.¡±


    ¡°I had an early lunch so we could get to Ashworth¡¯s place on time. An early lunch means I made it. It was a peanut butter sandwich and some leftover cake. Can we stop somewhere?¡±


    Vasil switched lanes. ¡°You¡¯ll ruin your appetite.¡±


    ¡°Is that a no?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll find a place to eat. Promise me you won¡¯t tell Igor.¡±


    I was thinking McDonald¡¯s or something. Why I thought that when Darius was choosing the restaurant, I will never know. He settled on a five-star, sit-down, Italian joint. It was so authentic, I wondered if the cook was going to come out, pinch my cheeks, and call me Piccola.


    With the image of Igor¡¯s scowl looming in my mind, I ignored my growling stomach and all the amazing smells, and ordered something small. I started working on the bread while we waited.


    ¡°Is it always like that when you have a nightmare?¡± Darius asked.


    I could delay a bit by chewing, but not for long. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You were¡­restless. Toward the end.¡±


    I forced myself to shrug. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. I¡¯m asleep when it happens.¡±


    ¡°Is it upsetting?¡±


    Ha! Upsetting. That¡¯s one way to put it.


    ¡°I know how he felt, Darius,¡± I said. ¡°If we¡¯re right, and it was Frost, he didn¡¯t know that his partner was going to shoot Wayde.¡±


    The vampire¡¯s eyes stayed on me for a second, then he turned to watch a busboy clear off a nearby table. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t surprise me. It¡¯s possible they were only there to steal the device, then Wayde came home unexpectedly and caught them. You said that in your dream you were trying to talk to him?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Frost might have been trying to talk him out of calling the police. From what you said, it wasn¡¯t making much of an impact.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°The other person panicked and shot him.¡±


    I frowned and shook my head.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Vasil asked.


    ¡°They panicked and shot him¡­but then they were calm enough to use the device to steal his soul?¡±


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    ¡°You don¡¯t think they panicked?¡±


    ¡°They brought a gun to what was supposed to be a burglary. I think they were willing to use it.¡±


    Darius sat back in his chair and raised a hand to his face. ¡°That gives a different feel to the case, doesn¡¯t it? Two perpetrators. Both might have been willing to break in, but one of them was eager.¡±


    ¡°And if they made a replica of the scroll, why didn¡¯t they make a replica of the device?¡±


    ¡°It would have been harder to replicate.¡±


    ¡°But they weren¡¯t planning on killing Wayde. That means they must have thought he wouldn¡¯t notice the theft.¡±


    ¡°Emerra, what exactly are you trying to figure out?¡±


    ¡°Everything!¡±


    ¡°We rarely know everything before we make an arrest. We figure out the most likely suspect, and we gather evidence.¡±


    ¡°Do you think that Frost knew Louis Summer was murdered?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I asked what you thought, Darius¡ªnot what you knew.¡±


    The vampire sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think he did. I think that¡¯s why he left when he heard that Summer was dead. I think it took him by surprise and he needed some space to think about it.¡±


    We paused as a waiter came to lay down my plate.


    I picked up my fork. ¡°What do you think Frost was thinking about?¡±


    Darius folded his arms. ¡°He might have been trying to decide what to do. If he¡¯s as innocent as you seem to think, Frost probably wants out.¡±


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t he talk to us!¡±


    Darius smiled gently. ¡°It sounds like you still want to help him.¡±


    I jabbed at my food. ¡°It¡¯s hard not to empathize when I spend most nights in his head.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he thinks he can walk away without turning himself into the police.¡±


    ¡°I thought we agreed that Frost didn¡¯t shoot Wayde.¡±


    ¡°He still broke into Wayde¡¯s house. If Frost turned himself in, the prosecutor might be able to do something about the charge of being an accomplice, but Frost would still be tried for breaking and entering. That would be enough to ruin his career.¡±


    ¡°Then how can he get out of the situation?¡±


    ¡°That depends on how much he¡¯s involved and what the murderer is like. For the professor¡¯s sake, I hope he hasn¡¯t finished translating the scroll.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°As long as the murderer needs him, he¡¯s less likely to be killed.¡±


    I pointed at the vampire with my fork. ¡°I knew it.¡±


    ¡°Knew what?¡±


    ¡°I knew you would have helped him.¡±


    ¡°My concern is far less personal than it is practical. I don¡¯t want him to wind up being the third soul.¡±


    I put down my utensil. ¡°You think he will be?¡±


    ¡°It would fit the picture of our murderer. We found evidence that someone was on Wayde¡¯s computer, looking up information on how to translate the scroll. Let¡¯s say that it was Frost. Considering how often it happened, it¡¯s likely that Wayde was there while it was going on. If Wayde approved of translating the scroll, why would they have to make a copy of it?¡±


    ¡°Because Wayde stopped approving at some point.¡±


    ¡°Probably around the time that he learned it took human souls to make the device work. If he knew that fact, then Frost and the murderer would¡¯ve also known. Despite learning that it would require the death of three humans, the murderer was willing to continue the research, and as you pointed out, when he¡ªor she¡ªbroke into Wayde¡¯s house, they brought a gun.¡±


    ¡°And when they shot Wayde, they immediately stole his soul.¡±


    ¡°They want to use that device, and they¡¯re willing to kill to do it.¡±


    ¡°Why did they kill Summer?¡±


    ¡°Try to imagine if Jacky hadn¡¯t been there. When we asked Ashworth, he said the Torr might have sent someone out. If they did, the person would have found one fake scroll, as expected, sitting in Wayde¡¯s bookshelf. That would have been the end of the matter as far as the Torr was concerned. By stealing the scroll, Summer drew attention to it and, ultimately, to himself.¡±


    ¡°Why would that matter?¡±


    ¡°Because he could have told us that he¡¯d given Wayde the device, and we would have searched for it.¡±


    ¡°So the murderer had Summer commit ¡®suicide¡¯ and planted the murder weapon in his apartment.¡±


    ¡°Once again, that would have been the end of the story. The only reason we were confident it wasn¡¯t a suicide was because of Jacky. It¡¯s worse though.¡±


    ¡°It sounds pretty bad already, Darius.¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re right, and Frost didn¡¯t know that Louis Summer had been murdered, that means that the murderer is either killing and sealing souls in secret¡ªwhich would show that they don¡¯t care about working with Frost¡ªor they no longer need him.¡±


    ¡°Because Frost¡¯s already finished translating the scroll.¡± I put my hands down in my lap. ¡°Has he?¡±


    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t even admit he was translating anything. He said that Kiel was ¡®mistaken.¡¯¡±


    We both fell into a morose silence.


    Darius¡¯s phone rang.


    He answered it while I picked up my fork. The utensil never reached my food. Two lines in, I froze to listen.


    ¡°This is Vasil¡­ Lost him? You mean Frost?¡±


    The vampire saw me staring and put the call on speaker. The volume was low, but I could hear it if I strained.


    ¡°¡ªsorry, sir.¡±


    I didn¡¯t recognize the woman¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Tell me everything,¡± Darius said. ¡°From the beginning.¡±


    ¡°After you left, I saw that Frost had left some of his window blinds open. I called a sparrow and used it to watch him. He was writing a letter. A long one.¡±


    ¡°How do you know it was a letter?¡±


    ¡°He put it in an envelope and sealed it. Sir, the envelope has your name on it.¡±


    Vasil stiffened. ¡°Did he post it?¡±


    ¡°No, sir. He left it sitting on his desk. He took something out of a drawer¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you know what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. His body was blocking my view. Five minutes later, he left his house and got in his car. I started tailing him.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you call me?¡±


    ¡°I was about to, sir¡ªthat¡¯s the problem. When I looked down to dial your number, I lost him in traffic. I spent about ten minutes trying to find him, then I called you.¡±


    ¡°Do you know which way he was heading?¡±


    ¡°East. I think he was heading toward the city, sir.¡±


    ¡°Go back to the house. Call me if he returns. Call me the moment he returns.¡±


    ¡°I will. I¡¯m sorry, sir.¡±


    ¡°These things happen, Suarez. We¡¯ll deal with it.¡±


    He hung up.


    I said, ¡°Why would Frost write you a letter but never mail it?¡±


    ¡°Miss Cole, I¡¯ve been working this job for a long time. There¡¯s been only one other time when someone involved in a case wrote me a letter and left it sitting in their house.¡±


    ¡°What was the letter?¡±


    ¡°A confession. It was brought to me after we found her body.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The word squeaked out. I swallowed and tried to find my voice. ¡°Do¡­do you think that Frost is going to kill himself?¡±


    ¡°No, I think he¡¯s going to confront the murderer. I think that letter was written in case he never makes it home.¡±


    My newly returned voice rose. ¡°Is there anything we can do?¡±


    Vasil scowled.


    ¡°Darius?¡±


    The vampire raised his eyes to mine. It wasn¡¯t quite as intense as when he was interrogating a suspect, but it was close, and it felt like a punch to the chest.


    ¡°Who pulled the trigger?¡± he said.


    My panic surged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I never saw them.¡±


    ¡°You know as much about this case as I do. With your dreams, you know more than I do. Who pulled the trigger?¡±


    ¡°I told you, I don¡¯t know!¡±


    ¡°Emerra, it¡¯s all right. I know.¡±


    The count¡¯s soothing tone made me aware of my ragged breathing. I slowed it down.


    He went on, ¡°But if Frost is going to meet the murderer, we have one chance to stop him. All I¡¯m asking for is your best guess and your reasons.¡±


    I was staring at nothing, but all the details of that nothing etched themselves into my brain. The dark brown of the table. How the burgundy napkin matched the upholstery of the bench. The smear of marinara sauce on the edge of my white plate.


    My voice felt divorced from my throat. ¡°Joel Aubert.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Darius said.


    ¡°We need a magician.¡±


    ¡°Ashworth said they didn¡¯t need a magician to work the device.¡±


    ¡°They needed one to tell them the device was real. When Drix touched it and felt the magic, she knew the scroll was more important than people realized. Maybe Aubert did too.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know if Aubert ever touched the scroll.¡±


    ¡°It was Wayde¡¯s new favorite in the real-or-fake game. Aubert said he went over there for beers. Do you really think he wasn¡¯t forced to play?¡±


    ¡°Why Aubert and not Drix?¡±


    I wracked my brains for some kind of logical reason.


    ¡°Drix is more powerful than Aubert,¡± I said, ¡°so Aubert¡¯s more likely to want the power.¡±


    ¡°The device was made to turn a mundane into a magician.¡±


    ¡°Okay, sure. That¡¯s what it was made for, but do we know that it won¡¯t increase the power of someone who¡¯s already a magician?¡± I paused. ¡°Does Aubert know?¡±


    ¡°If it could increase the power of a magician, then Drix and Aubert are equally likely to want it.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t true. There was no way that could be true, but I didn¡¯t know if I could explain it.


    ¡°Fine!¡± I said. ¡°Does Drix live in the city? Because Joel Aubert does.¡±


    The vampire pulled out his wallet and dropped some money on the table. ¡°That¡¯s good enough for me. Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Chapter 44 - Auberts Apartment

    The security guard at Aubert¡¯s apartment complex remembered us. He let us in, but he warned us Aubert probably wasn¡¯t home. When Darius said he wanted to check anyway, the man stepped back. I didn¡¯t blame him. The vampire was radiating enough intensity, I wanted to step back. And I knew he wasn¡¯t hungry.


    The elevator ride up to the third floor was tense. There was a bing, and the doors slid open.


    When I saw the hall beyond it, my lungs locked up. It felt like my brain had been dumped in a vat of cold water.


    ¡°Wha-what happened?¡± I whispered.


    Darius, who¡¯d been about to step out into the hall, stopped. ¡°Do you see something, Emerra?¡±


    ¡°Is it blood?¡±


    The vampire grabbed the elevator door when it started to shut. He scanned the hall, then looked back at me.


    I mumbled, ¡°How can there be so much of it?¡±


    The black splatters dotted the floor and walls along the entire hall, sometimes thinner, sometimes thicker. The ones barely outside the elevator were long and thin, as if they¡¯d been flung there with incredible force.


    ¡°Emerra.¡±


    I managed to drag my eyes away from the mess and look up at Darius.


    ¡°I need you to tell me what you see.¡±


    ¡°Do you not see this? It looks like Jackson Pollock went through an angry goth phase!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything.¡±


    I blinked my black eyes and gazed around me.


    Ever since Jacky had pulled me from my casket, I¡¯d seen things I¡¯d never seen before, but they were little things that could fit into my idea of the world without causing more than a few ripples. But this¡ªthis was not a little thing. This was someone dropping my idea of reality so I could watch it shatter.


    How could what I see be so different from what anyone else saw?


    I felt very lonely and very afraid.


    ¡°I¡¯m not crazy,¡± I said.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re not. Describe it to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not blood?¡±


    ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s not blood. This must be something else.¡±


    I stepped out of the elevator while trying to touch as few of the splatters as possible. The count followed me. As we walked down the hall, toward Aubert¡¯s apartment, I did my best to describe the scene: the color, the density, the patterns, how the splatters looked like they were all flying away from the same point. Neither of us were surprised when that point turned out to be apartment 303.


    Vasil pulled out his phone.


    ¡°I¡¯m putting it on speaker so you can hear,¡± he said, ¡°but you might not want to say anything.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m calling Ashworth.¡±


    The dial tone only rang twice before the torrman picked up.


    ¡°Good evening, Darius.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Mr. Ashworth. Have you ever heard of magic that appears to be black?¡±


    ¡°Black? Not a dark green?¡±


    ¡°Black.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s a true black, then it¡¯s not magic. You¡¯ll have to call Thorburn.¡±


    ¡°Why Thorburn?¡±


    ¡°They share white with us, but if it¡¯s gray or black, it¡¯s spirit essence.¡±


    I looked at Darius to try to figure out how to react. His brow was pulled down, and he was frowning.


    ¡°What could possibly make spirit essence go black?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°Stagnation or corruption¡ªjust like magic,¡± Ashworth said. ¡°It makes it appear darker.¡±


    Darius took his phone off speaker and put it to his ear. It wasn¡¯t like he was trying to exclude me; I got the impression that he needed to talk fast, and he didn¡¯t trust the speaker phone to get it right.


    ¡°Mr. Ashworth, I need to know if it¡¯s possible to set off the device before three souls are gathered.¡±


    There was a brief pause.


    ¡°What if it wasn¡¯t used on a mundane? What if it was being used on a magician?¡±


    A long pause.


    ¡°How much power are we talking about?¡±


    A second later, the torrman got a rushed goodbye, and Vasil hung up.


    ¡°Darius?¡± I said.


    ¡°We have to get in there now.¡±


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    He stepped up to the door and knocked. There was no answer. I was about to ask Darius what we were going to do, but he held his hand up for silence and laid his ear against the door.


    ¡°He isn¡¯t home,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t hear any breathing?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t hear anything.¡± The count turned and looked me right in the eyes. ¡°Unless you¡¯re under oath, I¡¯m going to ask you not to tell anyone about this.¡±


    ¡°What? That Aubert isn¡¯t home? Or that when you knock, sometimes people pretend they aren¡¯t?¡±


    I saw his slight smile for half of a second, then it disseminated.


    And, yes, I had to look that word up¡ªbut I needed something that could describe it.


    One moment, Darius Vasil was right there, beside me, as solid as anybody should be, then he was spreading out, almost vanishing, as his whole body became vapor. Even his colors faded as the mist rose and spread. It seeped through the millimeter gap at the bottom of the door.


    When Darius opened the door from the other side, my jaw was still hanging, unhinged, like a snake¡¯s.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I hissed.


    Vasil grabbed my arm, pulled me into the dark apartment, and shut the door. ¡°That¡¯s one of the powers I don¡¯t normally tell people about. It makes them uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°You think! I mean, what¡¯s stopping you from sneaking into people¡¯s bedrooms at night and sucking them dry?¡±


    ¡°My conscience. Should that ever fail, there¡¯s also a rather extreme threat of punishment.¡±


    ¡°Who could possibly hurt you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not invincible, Emerra. I can only do that at night, and it isn¡¯t as easy as I make it look.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a warrant. Are we going to get in trouble?¡±


    ¡°Not this time. I have good evidence of exigent circumstances, and the people who¡¯ll be hearing about it won¡¯t like the idea of this device.¡±


    When he mentioned the device, I remembered we had broken into Aubert¡¯s home for a reason¡ªnot merely to show off Darius¡¯s unique talents.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get the lights,¡± I said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need them.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    Maybe he was just showing off.


    I found the switch, flicked it on, and turned around.


    Aubert¡¯s whole apartment was coated in black¡ªor, more accurately, rancid soul juice. It was thick enough it could have been a new layer of paint. In the living room, laid over the black stuff, were dozens of two-foot by two-foot diagrams: collections of carefully inked, intersecting circles, lines, and runes. It looked like some steampunk philosopher had tried to create blueprints for the universe. They covered the floor and were draped over the couch. A few more were sitting, rolled up, on the tiny kitchen island.


    Judging by how clean they looked, Aubert must have brought them out after he set off the device.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Darius muttered.


    I stepped up beside him. ¡°Are you supposed to swear in front of a lady?¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I toned it down.¡±


    ¡°What is all this?¡± I reached out to touch one of the rolls on the kitchen island. It was vellum. Real vellum. Calfskin. I shivered and pulled my hand back.


    ¡°They¡¯re spells,¡± Darius said. ¡°Quicade specializes in runes and diagrams.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s Quicade?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the college where Aubert learned his sorcery.¡±


    Vasil carefully stepped into the clutter.


    ¡°Are these valuable?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Each one is worth several hundred dollars.¡±


    ¡°And he left them lying around?¡±


    ¡°He must have been in a hurry.¡±


    That didn¡¯t bode well. Aubert lived in an apartment. His furniture was second hand. I was willing to bet he wasn¡¯t rolling in money. That meant that I, as a fellow poor person, had a deep spiritual connection to him, and I knew that the only thing that could make me forget about, oh, roughly six to seven thousand dollars would be a matter of life and death.


    ¡°What kind of spells does a sorcerer in a hurry need?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know enough about magic to say.¡± The vampire bent over one of the parchments.


    ¡°How do we find out?¡±


    ¡°I usually take custody of them and bring them to Olivia or Iset.¡±


    Blow that. I took out my phone and dialed.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hey, Olivia! This is Emerra.¡±


    ¡°Emerra? How did you get my number?¡±


    ¡°Never mind. Darius and I desperately need a person who¡¯s really clever with magic. Would you recognize sorcery spells?¡±


    ¡°Most of them. What I don¡¯t know, Iset probably would.¡±


    ¡°Great. I¡¯m getting you some video.¡±


    I pulled up my camera and started filming.


    ¡°You¡¯re on speaker, by the way,¡± I said. ¡°Darius can hear you.¡±


    Her voice echoed into the room. ¡°He could have heard me anyway. Hang on, I¡¯m getting the feed now. Move a little slower.¡± A second later, she said, ¡°Damn. Cram time. That¡¯s a lot of spells. Not so¡ªEmerra! Not so fast. I can¡¯t tell what the spell is unless I can get a good look at the diagram.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°Hey, if these are his spells, why didn¡¯t he take them with him? Is it a Dungeons and Dragons thing?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Does he memorize them and then forget them when he uses them?¡±


    ¡°My god! Is that the worthless magic mundanes come up with?¡±


    ¡°You mean he can cast these spells as much as he wants? That seems a bit unfair.¡±


    ¡°Only if he can draw them out by memory. Otherwise, he¡¯s limited to the number of copies he¡¯s made.¡±


    I didn¡¯t see how that was much different from forgetting them, but now was not the time to pick a fight.


    Olivia went on, ¡°These are his originals. He would trace them onto tissue paper. Or onto the nilplane, if he¡¯s powerful enough.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means.¡±


    ¡°As if that mattered.¡±


    ¡°Love you too, sweetheart.¡±


    There was a silence while I walked from spell to spell. When I¡¯d covered about half of them, I heard a quiet ¡°fuck¡± coming from my phone.


    Apparently, the vampire had toned it down.


    I kept scanning the diagrams while Olivia talked.


    ¡°Darius, it looks like this guy was preparing for war.¡±


    ¡°Combat spells?¡± Vasil asked.


    ¡°Combative, defensive, destructive. This is everything in those chapters you¡¯re never supposed to need.¡±


    ¡°What kind of defense spells?¡±


    ¡°Simple shield. He wanted to protect himself, but that wasn¡¯t his main concern.¡±


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯s planning on killing someone?¡±


    ¡°Or taking down a whole building. Where are you?¡±


    ¡°In Joel Aubert¡¯s apartment.¡±


    ¡°Aubert? I thought he was supposed to be weak!¡±


    ¡°We have reason to believe he¡¯s become a whole lot stronger. Olivia, I want you to text us a list of any specific spells you recognized.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Should I send her some pictures?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No time,¡± Darius said. ¡°Olivia, send us that list as soon as you can.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    We both hung up.


    As I put my phone in my pocket, I said, ¡°I take it that we¡¯re going somewhere else in a hurry?¡±


    Darius said, ¡°If Aubert had time to prepare for the confrontation, Frost must have called him and arranged to meet somewhere else. The question is, where are they going?¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡± I held up both hands. ¡°It¡¯s your turn to guess. I got us this far.¡±


    ¡°So you did.¡± Darius rubbed his jaw, then let his hand drop. ¡°We¡¯ll have to try the college.¡±


    ¡°The college? That¡¯s an hour away and nowhere near the city!¡±


    ¡°The college is the only place we know that¡¯s familiar to both Frost and Aubert. It¡¯s late on a Saturday, so it¡¯ll be mostly empty.¡±


    ¡°That might be what Aubert wants, but wouldn¡¯t Frost choose somewhere more public?¡±


    ¡°Frost is the one that wants the meeting. All Aubert has to do is refuse to go unless it¡¯s someplace that works for him.¡±


    That made a lot of sense.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready when you are, Agent Vasil.¡±


    Olivia pulled the phone from her ear and tapped her message icon. Before she could type anything, she felt a presence beside her. It was Conrad.


    Since it was dinnertime, they had both been heading toward the dining room. It made sense that he would be in the hall with her. It made less sense that he would be standing over her like that. She fought the urge to lean away.


    ¡°That was Darius and Emerra,¡± the wolfman said.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°You said it looked like someone was getting ready for war.¡±


    Olivia hesitated. When you compared anyone¡¯s hearing to Darius¡¯s, they came up short. It was easy to forget that Conrad¡¯s hearing was better than a human¡¯s.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Where are they going?¡±

 Chapter 45 - The Confrontation

    Darius had told me to call Big Jacky. Neither of us were surprised when he didn¡¯t answer, but that meant that my phone was in my hand when it chimed.


    I looked down.


    Someone was messaging me? Who even had this number?


    The name at the top said Conrad Bauer. The message was Where are you?


    On the road, I replied. Going to the college.


    Address?


    I glanced at Darius. He was busy driving, and considering how fast we were going, I didn¡¯t want to distract him. I looked up the address on my phone, then copied and pasted.


    Another message: How long until you arrive?


    Why did it matter? I plugged the address into my GPS app.


    Forty minutes, but Darius is speeding.


    For a while, there was no reply.


    Then: We¡¯ll arrive ten minutes after you.


    If Conrad was only fifty minutes away from the college, then he must have left immediately after I¡¯d hung up with Olivia.


    And who was we?


    Another bubble appeared.


    Don¡¯t tell Darius.


    Oh, that was rich coming from him. I considered taking a screen shot and sending the whole thing to Big Jacky, but, technically, I had forgiven him. One pat on the head and some ruffled ears¡ªI was paid in full.


    I turned off the screen and lowered my phone to my lap.


    ¡°Was that Olivia with the list?¡± Darius said.


    Olivia had sent me the list as we were getting in the car, but I had failed to mention it. It seemed a shame to waste such a convenient mistake.


    ¡°Do you want me to read it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    The list involved lots of words related to ¡°fire¡± and ¡°explosion.¡± With every spell I read, Darius¡¯s frowned deepened.


    When I finished, I said, ¡°It does sound like he¡¯s preparing for war.¡±


    ¡°Or he¡¯s getting ready to stand against a Torr enforcement unit.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Torr enforcement unit?¡±


    ¡°Us.¡±


    I blinked and stared at the list again. ¡°I¡¯m flattered.¡±


    ¡°I usually have a few magicians behind me when I go in for someone.¡±


    ¡°Would you be glad to have a few more people?¡±


    ¡°In these circumstances, yes. But we don¡¯t have enough time to send in a request, and it¡¯s not like we¡¯re even sure they¡¯re going to be there.¡± He paused, ¡°Are you willing to come in with me?¡±


    ¡°¡­You¡ªyou¡¯ll let me?¡±


    ¡°One of my weaknesses is that I can¡¯t see or sense any kind of magic.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Of course I¡¯ll come!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Ha! I¡¯m living on borrowed time. I already owe this universe a death.¡±


    ¡°Emerra, that is not the attitude I want you to go in with.¡±


    ¡°Right. You didn¡¯t hear that. What I meant was, I¡¯ll be extra careful and follow all of your orders the moment you give them.¡±


    The vampire glanced at me, but I was ready with my wide-open eyes and most innocent expression.


    ¡°You can¡¯t fight,¡± the vampire said.


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    ¡°That was an order, not an assessment.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Promise me.¡±


    ¡°Darius, I don¡¯t know¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a sorcerer. Can you stop magic with nothing but your bare hands and heroic intentions?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Your job is to keep your eyes open and stay safe so I don¡¯t have to worry about you while I fight.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°If you see any magic, call it out from a safe distance. I¡¯ll be able to hear you.¡±


    ¡°I can do that.¡±


    ¡°If anything happens to me, run.¡±


    ¡°But nothing will happen to you, right?¡±


    The vampire smiled wide enough I saw his fangs. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have lived this long if I wasn¡¯t good at what I do.¡±


    I felt better after hearing that. It was almost as comforting as the fact that we already had backup coming.


    I hoped Darius would enjoy the surprise.


    An accident delayed us for five minutes. I know because I kept checking the dashboard clock. We pulled into a parking lot in the center of campus.


    As we got out and started walking toward the anthropology building, my phone rang. I was keyed up and expecting the call, so I answered before it could get through its first tone.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said.


    ¡°Mera.¡± It was Conrad. ¡°Slow down.¡±


    Darius was watching me.


    I ignored him. ¡°Slow down? Why?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re almost with you, and it¡¯ll be safer if we go in together.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re here?¡±


    I heard the huff of his laugh. ¡°Darius isn¡¯t the only one who can speed.¡±


    My phone was gone. It was so fast, it felt like a twitch in my hand, then my ear was suddenly exposed to the cold October air.


    Vasil had it.


    He said, ¡°Mr. Bauer, I don¡¯t recall requesting that you join us.¡±


    I heard a deep voice coming from behind me. ¡°Yeah? My mistake.¡±


    Two shadows stepped into the light of the nearby building¡ªOlivia, with her bright red hair, sharp eyes, and crossed arms, and the wolfman, who looked even larger and more menacing than I remembered. I wanted to throw my arms around both of them.


    Conrad hung up without looking away from the count. ¡°Are you going to send us away?¡±


    Darius handed me my phone. ¡°You know you can get in trouble for this.¡±


    ¡°Only if you don¡¯t need me.¡±


    The vampire looked at the witch.


    ¡°Please,¡± Olivia said. ¡°What trouble am I going to get into? The Torr¡¯s never told me to stay out of sight.¡±


    ¡°You know the spells that Aubert has,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°All the more reason to have someone with you who can actually use magic.¡±


    ¡°They might not even be here¡ª¡±


    ¡°Someone¡¯s here,¡± Conrad said. ¡°A human adult. Male. Is the anthropology building that way?¡± He pointed.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re five minutes behind him.¡±


    That ended the debate. As we hurried toward the building, Darius gave us our orders.


    ¡°We¡¯re going in silent. I don¡¯t want to fight unless we have to. Olivia, how fast can you cast?¡±


    ¡°Less than a second.¡±


    ¡°Good. I don¡¯t want you holding a shield.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Active magic is the only thing he¡¯d have time to set up a sensory spell for. Stay next to Emerra. Listen to her.¡±


    The witch glanced at me and scowled. The scowl disappeared with a sigh.


    ¡°Your job is purely defensive,¡± Darius said. ¡°I want you to protect yourself and Emerra first. Try to control Aubert¡¯s magic if you can. You don¡¯t have to take him down. That¡¯ll be our job.¡± He motioned to himself and Conrad.


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    ¡°I understand,¡± Olivia said.


    ¡°Conrad.¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡±


    ¡°Frost is only a human. You don¡¯t have to use lethal force on him.¡±


    ¡°What about the sorcerer?¡±


    ¡°If Ashworth¡¯s right, he¡¯s very dangerous.¡±


    Conrad nodded.


    ¡°Our priority is procuring the device,¡± the vampire said. ¡°Aubert may have it on him.¡±


    ¡°Why would he carry it around with him?¡± Olivia asked. ¡°That seems stupid.¡±


    ¡°Not if he was hoping to use it.¡±


    ¡°I thought he already set it off,¡± I said.


    ¡°He can do it as many times as he wants, as long as he¡¯s willing to feed it souls.¡±


    When we got to the building, Conrad led us around to the side.


    ¡°He went in here,¡± the wolfman said.


    I tugged on the handle. ¡°Locked.¡±


    Darius nudged a large rock that was sitting by his foot. ¡°Frost must have wedged the door open for him.¡± The vampire let out a loud sigh. ¡°Twice in one night,¡± he muttered. ¡°This is really going to slow me down.¡±


    He thinned himself into vapor and poured through the cracks around the door. Olivia and Conrad didn¡¯t comment. They must have seen that trick before.


    I wondered how many times I¡¯d have to see it before it stopped impressing me.


    Darius opened the door for us.


    ¡°This way,¡± Conrad said.


    A line of evening lights were dispersed along the hall. They only shed enough light to keep us from running into the furniture and walls. All the chairs and potted plants that were so unremarkable in the daytime now seemed bigger and full of shadows. The small windows built into the doors of the lecture halls looked like pools of ink.


    We climbed the stairs to the second floor. In the middle of the main hall, Darius held up his hand to stop us.


    ¡°They¡¯re above us,¡± he said.


    ¡°In the hall?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Right now they¡¯re talking, but it sounds like it¡¯s going to be an argument before we get there. Conrad, there¡¯s a staircase further on. Go up and come back to them. Cut off their retreat.¡±


    Conrad kept his footfalls as light as possible as he hurried toward the stairs.


    ¡°You ladies are with me,¡± Darius said.


    Olivia pulled her hair back into a ponytail and rolled up her sleeves.


    ¡°No magic until we call for it,¡± the vampire reminded her.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    She said that, but I could already see fine indigo particles dusting her hair and clothes. They gave off a faint light.


    We followed Darius back to the stairs at our end of the hall and climbed up to the third floor. We moved down one short hall and turned the corner. I heard the sound of raised voices. We ran, crouched over, trying to stay out of the light.


    ¡°You broke into my house,¡± Frost yelled. ¡°You copied the translation!¡±


    ¡°Yes, that reminds me¡ªhow long has it been finished, Professor?¡± Aubert said. ¡°The last time we talked, you didn¡¯t mention you were done.¡±


    ¡°You said we shouldn¡¯t do anything until the investigation was over.¡±


    ¡°Yet here we are, long before the investigation is over, and you¡¯re telling me that we have to stop¡ªnot you, but we.¡±


    ¡°They know, Aubert! They know about the device. You can¡¯t keep using it.¡± Frost started shaking. I could see it, even in the dim lights, even from a distance. ¡°I never would have agreed to this, and I won¡¯t let you keep doing it.¡±


    ¡°You said you hadn¡¯t told anyone.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°You think you can stop me, all by yourself?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve made arrangements¡ª¡±


    ¡°Arrangements can be dealt with,¡± Aubert said.


    He didn¡¯t raise his arm, but his hand started glowing. In the air under his palm, a white ruin began writing itself from the center, out.


    ¡°He¡¯s casting something!¡± I cried.


    I didn¡¯t mean to yell, but I was scared and excited. Aubert¡¯s head jerked up. Olivia stepped out from behind me. As he raised his hand, she raised hers.


    The lash of flame crashed against Olivia¡¯s shield. Where it struck, the magic fused into an incandescent white.


    Frost stumbled away from the sorcerer and tried to draw a gun.


    Without looking away from me and Olivia, Aubert raised his other hand. The gun glowed red. Frost cried out and dropped it.


    When Aubert¡¯s fire lash gave out, he swept his hand in an arc in front of him. Where his hand passed, new runes glowed in the air.


    ¡°How many spells?¡± Olivia cried.


    ¡°Five!¡± I said.


    She might have sworn, but I didn¡¯t hear her over the sound of the next spell. A painful hum, like a swarm of enraged hornets, chased a line of lightning down the hall. Before it reached the shield, the lightning split into five fingers. The tendrils tried to reach around Olivia¡¯s shield.


    She put her second hand on the back of the first. The shield pulsed and grew. The lightning struck the edges. Nothing touched her, but Olivia slid back a foot. She only stopped when her back met Darius¡¯s shoulder. He¡¯d appeared, in that second, to brace her up.


    ¡°Can you hold it?¡± he said.


    ¡°I can hold it.¡±


    She sounded as cocky as ever, but I wasn¡¯t sure how long her statement would be true. The lightning hummed around the rim of the shield, scorching the walls, ceiling, and floor, testing every point. Then, abruptly, it was gone.


    Aubert had turned the other way. Conrad was there¡ªteeth bared, ears flat, fist already in motion. The blow would have killed any normal man, but it only glanced off Aubert¡¯s shield.


    Olivia lowered her arms and yelled for Darius to go.


    Before the vampire could move, Frost charged in. The dumpy old professor must have had the soul of a warrior. He lunged for Aubert. I couldn¡¯t guess what he hoped to do. Frost was unarmed and taking on a sorcerer! But the professor managed to grab Aubert¡¯s jacket and hold on for two seconds. The shadows made it impossible for me to tell if Frost was trying to punch Aubert or strangle him.


    Either way, Frost failed.


    There was no spell. No finesse. Nothing but a pure blast of white power, exploding from Aubert in all directions. Conrad and Darius were both pushed back. Frost hit the wall.


    Aubert patted his hand on one of his jacket pockets, then the other. He looked at Frost. ¡°You.¡±


    Frost stumbled to his feet and turned toward us. Aubert pulled something from his belt.


    I didn¡¯t like the way it was shining when there was no light to make it shine.


    ¡°Darius!¡± I screamed. ¡°It¡¯s blessed silver!¡±


    It was also a knife, capable of doing plenty of damage on its own. Aubert rammed it into Frost¡¯s back, then yanked it out. The professor let out an awful gasp and stopped, like a puppet jerked back by its strings.


    He fell forward.


    Conrad and Darius were on their feet again. The vampire got to Frost and Aubert before the wolfman did. It was hard to follow the blur of movement as Vasil danced from the floor, to the wall, to the ceiling, to the other wall, in a corkscrew path that avoided every blast of fire, while bringing him inevitably toward the sorcerer. As Darius¡¯s body passed through the runes still hanging in the air, they rippled and faded.


    ¡°Conrad!¡± Darius yelled. He smashed his fist across Aubert¡¯s jaw.


    Aubert managed to raise his shield in time to avoid taking all of the energy from the blow, but he staggered back into the wolfman¡¯s arm.


    Conrad wrapped that one arm around the front of Aubert¡¯s chest, lifted him off his feet, and slammed him into the floor so hard the sorcerer¡¯s body shuddered in spite of the shield.


    While Aubert was getting one-arm body slammed by a wolfman, Darius picked up Frost in a fireman¡¯s carry and made a straight line for me and Olivia.


    The witch let down the shield long enough to admit the vampire and his burden. Darius stopped by me and lowered Frost to his feet.


    ¡°Take him,¡± he said.


    I put my arm around Frost¡¯s back. In the no-time it took for my hand to move from his low back to his shoulder, it was smeared with blood. Frost haltingly put his arm over me.


    Darius said, ¡°Get away from here. Both of you.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Olivia started.


    ¡°You have a job!¡± Darius said.


    ¡°Aubert¡¯s magic!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got too much power. All you¡¯ll be able to do is hold a shield. Take Emerra and get away from here. We¡¯ll come and get you.¡± He turned and looked me in the eyes. ¡°Protect Frost.¡±


    I nodded.


    There was an angry bark from Conrad. We all looked up. Aubert had managed to plunge the blessed dagger into Conrad¡¯s forearm. Smoke was rising from the wound, and I could smell burning fur. The wolfman took a step back, rolled back his lips, and yanked the knife out with his teeth.


    By the time the metal rattled against the floor, Darius was back in the fight.


    ¡°Go!¡± Olivia yelled to me.


    It was hard to turn away¡ªharder than I thought it would be. Seeing the flashes of white and blue reflecting off the walls didn¡¯t make it any easier, but I blinked back my tears, swallowed, and forced myself to smile when I looked at Frost.


    ¡°Ready to let us help you now, Professor?¡± I cried over the sound of the battle behind us.


    He almost smiled back at me, but then his face twisted in agony.


    We limped down the hall like a drunk, two-headed monster. Olivia followed behind us, keeping her shield up the whole way. Every time something struck it, the hall around us glowed an eerie blue. Once, the witch grunted.


    ¡°Olivia?¡± I called.


    ¡°Keep going,¡± she said.


    By the time we reached the stairs, I was taking more of Frost¡¯s weight than he was. Beads of sweat with no hair to catch them rolled down my neck. Those stairs were going to be impossible.


    ¡°Olivia,¡± I said through grit teeth, ¡°can you make him float or something?¡±


    I felt her hand on my back. A surge of strength and energy flowed from that spot into every speck of my body.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯ll do.¡±


    I picked up Frost the way I¡¯d seen Darius do it and grabbed the rail. I still had to go down the stairs slower than I would have liked.


    ¡°Sneakers, Olivia!¡± I yelled. ¡°Have you ever heard of them?¡±


    ¡°If I can fight in heels, so can you!¡±


    When we reached the bottom floor, my magic boost started to wane. I put Frost on his feet and hoisted his arm over my shoulders.


    ¡°Outside?¡± Olivia asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to make it that far,¡± I said. ¡°Can you do any kind of healing magic?¡±


    ¡°Some.¡±


    ¡°Good. I can do some first aid.¡± I hope, I added in my head. I wasn¡¯t sure about my ability to deal with a knife wound to the back. ¡°Let¡¯s find a place to lie down.¡±


    We started down the hall.


    My head was right next to Frost¡¯s, so I could hear him¡ªdespite how quiet his voice was, despite my heavy breathing, and despite how hard my heart was beating.


    ¡°You were right.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know,¡± I said with a grunt. ¡°I¡¯m wrong so often.¡±


    ¡°Trev was my best friend.¡±


    I glanced over. We were passing under one of the lights. I could see his face, pale and streaked with tears.


    ¡°I have nightmares every night,¡± he said.


    ¡°Join the club,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Would you believe me if I told you that I never wanted to hurt anyone?¡±


    Sorrow pattered through my ribs like rain dripping from one leaf to another. ¡°I would, Professor.¡±


    ¡°I was scared.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    We staggered over to the first lecture hall. I grabbed the door handle and prayed.


    The door swung open when I pulled.


    I laughed with hysterical relief. ¡°Come on. You can tell me the whole story once we¡¯re done with all this.¡±


    I reached for the light switch when we were inside, but Olivia grabbed my hand.


    ¡°Aubert would know where we are,¡± she said.


    I closed my hand into a fist and lowered it. It took more effort to shut out the implications of what Olivia had said.


    She wasn¡¯t sure that Darius and Conrad were going to win.


    With that dismal idea playing in my head, I didn¡¯t feel comfortable stopping in front of the door. I pulled Professor Frost toward the stage. Behind me, a faint blue light rose from Olivia¡¯s palm. It was enough for me to see the empty area between the first row of chairs and the raised platform. When I reached the break, I turned and walked along the left wing of chairs until I was in the center of them, then I helped Frost lay down.


    He groaned with every movement. By the time he was flat, he was panting. He was so pale that the blue light made him look frozen.


    ¡°Do we need to turn him over?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Olivia said.


    The light in her hand disappeared. It was replaced by a white glow streaming out of her palms. She held them over Frost¡¯s side.


    ¡°Will this heal him?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, but it might keep him from dying,¡± She said.


    Frost reached up and grabbed my hand. ¡°Thank you,¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    He let go of my hand so he could wave his own around in a shrug.


    ¡°I tried to stop him,¡± he added.


    ¡°I know,¡± I assured him. ¡°We all heard.¡±


    ¡°I stopped him.¡± The words were nothing more than a mumble.


    He reached into his sports coat pocket and pulled out something heavy.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Olivia demanded.


    I took the stone cylinder from Frost. ¡°It¡¯s the device.¡± I swallowed and looked down at him. ¡°You stole it from Aubert during the fight!¡±


    ¡°Even if I die, he can¡¯t get the third soul.¡± Frost¡¯s chuckle turned into a cough that made him cry out.


    I wanted to yell at him that it was too late, that Aubert didn¡¯t need the third soul, but the pain in Frost¡¯s face stopped me.


    I took his hand again. ¡°Hey. You did good. You got it from him. Now, you just rest, nice and quiet. Olivia and I are going to look after you.¡±


    He closed his eyes and sighed.


    For almost two whole seconds, things were quiet.


    Those were a good two seconds.


    The doors we¡¯d come in through burst open with enough force they were torn from their hinges and crashed into the chairs.


    Olivia extinguished her magic. Everything was dark. All I could see was the silhouette of Joel Aubert standing in the doorway.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late,¡± he said. ¡°I know you¡¯re in here. Is Frost with you?¡±


    Frost? Why is he looking for Frost? In a building full of people that want him dead, Frost is the only one less threatening to him than I am!


    Then it occurred to me.


    ¡°Olivia, stay here,¡± I whispered. ¡°Keep Frost alive.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± she said.


    ¡°Answer me,¡± Aubert yelled, ¡°or I¡¯ll light this room on fire to find you!¡±


    I jumped onto the two seats in front of me. The crack of my heels on the plastic echoed through the room¡ªclack, clack.


    ¡°Oi!¡± I shouted. ¡°There¡¯s no need to be dramatic, Mr. Aubert. The lights are right by your hand.¡±


    When the lights came on, they shone down on me, holding the device aloft like the stone hilt of Excalibur.


    ¡°Is this what you¡¯re looking for?¡± I cried.


    I didn¡¯t wait for an answer. I jumped off the chairs and went for the exit to my right.


    Darius would be so proud of me. I had procured the device, I was protecting Professor Frost, and I wasn¡¯t fighting¡ªI was running.

 Chapter 46 - Running

    The side exit opened onto a hall lined with office doors. Tucked between the doors were tables and chairs where students could study. I grabbed one of the biggest chairs I could find (it was still kind of pathetic), threw it behind me, and booked it toward the main hall.


    I could hear Aubert coming. The sound of mad humming and crashes made me think he didn¡¯t like the fact I had a head start, so he decided to blast a straight path to the door.


    My boots cracked against the floor as I ran. I turned a corner and stopped long enough to wrench them off my feet. Two steps later, I stopped again to remove my socks. I needed as much purchase as I could get.


    At the end of the hall, I saw another door. I thought I knew what it would open into. My hand was on the handle when I heard Aubert reach the mouth of the hallway.


    I flattened myself against the door. If I tried to turn around, Aubert would see the movement.


    A second later, I heard the sound of my boot falling back to the floor.


    He¡¯d picked one up.


    He knew I¡¯d passed this way.


    Okay. Maybe he¡¯d assume I¡¯d thrown them there and kept running down the main hall.


    Right?


    An honest-to-god fireball flew down the hall toward me. The heat pushed into me long before the flames roared by and struck the wall to my left. I had to jump back to avoid the explosion. I only got mildly roasted, but it had revealed where I was hiding.


    I yanked the door open. As I thought, it was another lecture hall. I had come in the left-side entrance. I ran up the side aisle toward the double-door exit at the back.


    Which only goes to show that a person isn¡¯t going to think clearly when they¡¯re being chased by murderers and fireballs. I had been at one end of the hall. Aubert had been at the other. Of the two of us, Aubert was much closer to those doors than I was.


    Fortunately, my need for speed meant I wasn¡¯t slowing down for anything. Not to think. And not to open a door that I already knew opened outward.


    I slammed into it going as fast as I could. The door swung out and hit Aubert in the face.


    ¡°Ha!¡± I screamed.


    Then I remembered that if Aubert hadn¡¯t been stopped by a wolfman and a vampire, he probably couldn¡¯t be stopped by a door to the face. I ran and turned around the next corner.


    Aubert was right behind me.


    This hall did not end with a door to the outside, as one might have hoped. It ended in stairs. I sprinted up those stairs and tried not to think about the fact I was running on pure adrenaline. No complaints. It had served me well so far.


    At the top of the stairs, a blast of white power knocked me to my chest. Aubert grabbed my ankle. I flipped around and tried to kick him in the face. I missed, but I managed to jerk my leg free and pull Aubert off balance. His knees hit the stairs, and his hands crashed down to catch him. I saw a glimpse of his bloody nose and bruised face.


    ¡°Later!¡± I cried.


    I got to my knees and stumbled onward in a mutant gait until I could get my feet under me.


    ¡°Emerra!¡± Aubert yelled.


    ¡°Jerk,¡± I hissed to myself.


    How dare he call me¡ªlike he knew me. Like we had anything to talk about. He made Miranda cry. He brought down Lord Spike. Three Dead Enders had to raise their glasses because they weren¡¯t four anymore, and I would never meet Trevon Wayde and get to play the real-or-fake game.


    I wiped the tears off my face with my free hand.


    Oh! Handy! Another staircase.


    This time I went down. Even with my adrenaline and whatever remained from Olivia¡¯s boost, I could feel the weariness spreading through my body. I needed to hide somewhere.


    I started trying all the door knobs I could find. At last, one turned under my hand.


    Thank you, absent-minded professor.


    The last thing I saw as the door closed behind me was Aubert¡¯s eyes meeting mine as he came around the corner.


    Great. He knew I was in here. I didn¡¯t need a hiding spot, I needed an exit. I threw the lock, ran to the middle of the room¡­


    ¡­and stopped.


    Dead end.


    I was in an office like Wayde¡¯s and Frost¡¯s. The only other door in the room led to an even smaller room¡ªone where I wouldn¡¯t be able to go for the door if, by some miracle, Aubert decided to lunge after me.


    Not that he needed to. Not with those fireballs.


    I turned toward the row of windows. We were on the first floor! Maybe I could get out that way.


    But I had stopped for too long. All the exhaustion and pain from my prolonged sprint came to call in my debts. I wasn¡¯t sure I could reach the windows, let alone crawl over the shelves to get to them.


    I laughed and turned to the door.


    ¡°Not bad, Emerra,¡± I said.


    Good would have been if I¡¯d gotten away, but I didn¡¯t do too bad.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Aubert melted the handle right out of the door. Slags of metal dropped to the tiles below. The door swung open.


    Aubert came into the room, but he didn¡¯t turn on the lights. The only reason we could see each other was because of the lamps along the sidewalk outside the windows.


    ¡°Give me the device, Emerra,¡± Aubert said.


    I wished he sounded arrogant, mean, or evil. Anything other than the normal voice he used to talk about coffee.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you leave me alone, Joel? You¡¯ve sold your soul! You¡¯ve got your power! Why isn¡¯t it enough for you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to need that device to get away.¡±


    I made the noise of a buzzer: ¡°Errrrrrrr. Wrong answer! This thing is empty! You need this device and at least one soul.¡± I raised my hands in a shrug and looked from side to side. ¡°Huh. Looks like mine¡¯s the only soul around. There goes my incentive to hand it over.¡±


    Aubert¡¯s jaw clenched.


    ¡°Go ahead and tell me you won¡¯t kill me if I give it to you,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s see if I believe you.¡±


    He took a step toward me. I dodged behind a desk.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you shoot one of your patented fireballs at me?¡± I asked. ¡°Or that creepy white lightning?¡±


    ¡°The ¡®lightning,¡¯ as you call it, might destroy the device.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re all out of fireballs?¡± When he didn¡¯t answer, I laughed. ¡°Oh, dang. That¡¯s right. Fighting Conrad and Darius must have taken a lot of spells. You really do need this to get away.¡±


    I saw the runes grow under his palm, but I didn¡¯t have a shield. I tried to dodge. A whip of ice came out of nowhere and sliced along the side of my head and my shoulder.


    ¡°I have other spells,¡± Aubert said.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled from where I was crouched on the floor. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to fight!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not putting up much of a fight.¡±


    The man had a point.


    I saw his hands start to glow and tried to scrabble along the floor. Chunks of ice bit my knees, bare feet, and hands, but I managed to move fast enough they couldn¡¯t hold me.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you still have ice spells,¡± I said.


    ¡°They don¡¯t work well against strong people. They should work fine against you.¡±


    Clear of the desk, I stood up, grabbed a book off the top, and threw it at Aubert.


    He deflected it with another burst of power. I threw up my hands to protect my eyes from the light. The room flew by me in a rush of white glare and shadows as I was hurled backward. My back hit the wall and I dropped.


    I took a poll of all my body parts. They were still attached, but if this was the kind of crap I was going to put them through, they weren¡¯t happy about that. They also wanted to lay there and do nothing, but my brain and my ego¡ªthe merciless tyrants¡ªdecided we were going to get up.


    I got to my feet. Aubert had stopped six feet away from me.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t used any magic,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯m saving it up for the big finale,¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m worried about.¡±


    ¡°Hey, can I ask you a question?¡±


    He eyed me and said nothing.


    ¡°Are you any better at seeing and sensing magic than you were before you used the device? Ashworth will want to know.¡±


    His face suddenly screwed up in a furious sneer. He raised his hand. The rune was already glowing white hot.


    A slow and horrible pressure began to build in my chest. The pain and weight of it crawled up from inside my sternum, filling my throat, my mouth, my sinuses. Two bubbles of water built up like tears around my nostrils. When I opened my mouth, liquid ran over my tongue and down my chin.


    I was drowning.


    My feet lifted from the ground. I floated in a world of water that was nowhere but inside me.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know how this one would work,¡± Aubert said. ¡°I thought it would take too long in a fight, but you looked like you were tired.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t breathe. The desperate need for air filled my body like a scream. Free of the ground and weightless, my limbs shuddered. Those brand-new, magical eyes of mine started to fade.


    A crash off to my side threw glass shards across my legs. I hit the ground and vomited out what felt like a gallon of water. It spewed from my mouth and dripped out my nose.


    I didn¡¯t care. Between my body-wracking coughs, I dragged in gasps of air. Even the flavor of my stomach acid couldn¡¯t spoil that sweet taste.


    I looked up. Conrad had opened the window with a rock, then dived through the broken glass and thrown himself on Aubert. I could see parts of the sorcerer¡¯s blue shield. The rest of it was hidden by the flash of fangs and their struggling mass. The wolfman was trying to hold down the sorcerer¡¯s hands. Or rip them off.


    But Aubert had his power blast. He didn¡¯t need hands for that.


    ¡°Darius!¡± I screamed.


    There was a rush of movement at the open window. The vampire slid through the shards without disturbing any of them. Maybe my vision was still blurry, but he seemed dim, or thin, like he wasn¡¯t quite there.


    When Aubert let out another massive burst of energy, Conrad and I were both thrown back, but Darius didn¡¯t move. He took three steps toward Aubert, each footfall making more noise than the last. With the final step, I could hear the crunch of the glass shifting under his dress shoes.


    Darius¡¯s hand shot out and grabbed Aubert by the neck. I heard the impact. I saw the sorcerer¡¯s head snap back, but under Vasil¡¯s hand was the unfailing blue glow of Aubert¡¯s shield.


    Aubert smiled.


    I think that was a mistake.  His last one, as it happened.


    ¡°You can¡¯t strangle me like this,¡± he said.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Mr. Aubert,¡± Darius said. ¡°Conrad?¡±


    The wolfman came up behind the sorcerer, grabbed his chin and the back of his head, and with one swift jerk, snapped his neck.


    I did not realize how loud the noise would be. Or how far his head would twist. Or how disturbing it would be to watch.


    I winced, but my eyes were still on Aubert when Darius let go. The sorcerer hit the floor like a bag of spare parts.


    Conrad nodded to Darius. The vampire nodded back.


    They both turned to me.


    ¡°Emerra?¡± Darius said.


    I nodded. Emerra. Yes. That was me. Still Emerra Cole.


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡±


    I waved him off. ¡°You¡¯re not going to want to come any closer.¡±


    The vampire stopped. ¡°Why?¡±


    Conrad didn¡¯t. His boots made ripples in the vomit-water as he came and crouched beside me. ¡°All of that came out of her.¡± He put a hand on my arm. ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    I nodded. Then I shook my head.


    ¡°Where are your shoes?¡± Darius asked.


    ¡°In the hall,¡± I croaked. ¡°Somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of here,¡± Conrad said.


    ¡°There¡¯s glass everywhere,¡± the count pointed out.


    The wolfman thought for a second, then turned. ¡°Climb on my back.¡±


    With shaky hands, I grabbed his arm and pulled myself up.


    ¡°Can you hold on?¡± Conrad asked.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I put my arm around his neck. ¡°Am I going to be too heavy?¡±


    The wolfman chuffed. ¡°You? No.¡±


    A second later, I managed to get my other arm around his neck. He stood up, and tucked his good arm¡ªthe one that hadn¡¯t been stabbed with the silver knife¡ªunder me.


    Darius held out his hand. ¡°The device?¡±


    I had been clenching the thing so hard, it hurt when I peeled my fingers away from the stone.


    The count inspected it. ¡°Maybe the scroll will give us a clue on how to disassemble it.¡±


    When we turned to go, we saw Big Jacky standing over the body of Joel Aubert. I couldn¡¯t tell how he¡¯d arrived, and it felt like he¡¯d always been there.


    ¡°Mr. Noctis?¡± Darius said.


    Jacky stared at Joel¡¯s corpse. ¡°I got Emerra¡¯s voicemail. I was on my way here when I felt Aubert die.¡± He raised his skull. ¡°Do you have the device?¡±


    Darius passed it over. ¡°We¡¯ll have to take it back to Iset to see how it works.¡±


    ¡°I have no intention of making it work.¡±


    Jacky held the device up. The air lifted it out of his hand. It revolved in mid-air, then burst apart in a silent explosion that halted almost as fast is it had started. The scattered parts hovered inches away from each other.


    Black essence rose from the nothing in the center. It spilled over, dripped down the still rising essence, and disappeared before it touched the ground.


    ¡°Who were they?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Slaves,¡± Jacky said. ¡°There are too many to name.¡±


    ¡°You know their names?¡±


    ¡°All of them.¡±


    When the flow of essence stopped, the pieces of the device clattered to the floor.


    My body heaved with my sigh, and I buried my face in the fur of Conrad¡¯s neck.


    ¡°I must smell like puke,¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°A bit,¡± he admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    I used the last smidge of energy in my whole body to lift my hand and ruffle his ears. It was totally worth it.


    ¡°Thank you, wolf-boy.¡±

 Chapter 47 - Wrapping It Up

    Frost told Darius the rest of the story while he was recovering in the Torr-run wing of the hospital.


    As we had guessed, Aubert had played the real-or-fake game, and when the scroll was put into his hands, he sensed the magic, just like Drix had. He was smart enough to realize that meant there had been a mistake.


    The reason the scroll was in such good condition wasn¡¯t because it was fake; it was because it had a protection spell cast on it when it was created. The spell had faded over the years, but it had done its job.


    Natalie Both, a mundane, couldn¡¯t sense the magic. She could only report what she saw.


    Aubert asked about the scroll, and when he found out that Wayde had the device that went along with it, he broke his first rule. He told Wayde and Frost about magic to convince them to help him translate the scroll. That started him down the long road that led to his neck being snapped by a wolfman employed by death.


    When Wayde heard that the device required three human souls, he didn¡¯t even wait to learn what that meant. He told Aubert and Frost that he was pulling the plug. Since it was his scroll and his device, there wasn¡¯t much they could do.


    It took some time, but Aubert convinced Frost that there was no harm in simply translating the scroll. If it turned out to be as bad as Wayde thought, they could walk away. Frost, who was already in love with the idea of being a magician and hated to leave the translation unfinished, agreed to help¡ªbecause they didn¡¯t have to hurt anyone or steal anything.


    Frost would bring the papyrus, Aubert would use a scholar spell to copy the writing, and they would walk away with the copy.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t Drix sense any magic on the copy?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The scholar spell is an immediate spell that moves the ink,¡± Darius explained. ¡°It isn¡¯t cast on the ink or the scroll. It¡¯s traces would have faded almost immediately.¡±


    Wayde came home early to meet Drix and found Frost and Aubert there. After Aubert shot him, the sorcerer picked up the device and told Frost to help him seal the soul. Joel must have thought there wasn¡¯t a reason to hold back at that point, and Frost wasn¡¯t brave enough to say no to a man with a gun. When they left, they took the device and the real scroll, leaving behind the copy.


    ¡°Aubert told Frost that the Torr didn¡¯t know about the device,¡± Darius said, ¡°so even if we read the scroll, we wouldn¡¯t know it had been there.¡±


    I sighed and fingered the bandage on the side of my head. The ice whip had left the most lasting damage, and even that would heal with only a scar.


    Darius and Conrad were almost back to full health, despite the beating they took. Both of them had some impressive regeneration powers.


    In a world full of cool supernatural abilities, like sleep-deprivation powers, ultra-healing, and super strength, I had to wonder why I got stuck with ¡°the ability to have nightmares.¡±


    The only reason the two of them weren¡¯t completely healed was because of the silver-coated dagger. It had been a major problem¡ªuntil Darius decided that burning his hand was better than getting sliced or stabbed by it. He took the first chance he could to pick it up and throw it out the nearest window.


    The nearest window had been at the end of the hall. I heard the clean-up unit was still looking for the dagger and had expanded their search to four hundred yards away from the building.


    Since Conrad¡¯s arm was still bothering him, I had volunteered to help him rake the yard.


    Kappa was playing nearby in a specially designated pile of leaves that he was allowed to wreck however he wanted. At the moment, he was hiding in them because the wolfman was too close.


    Conrad was sitting on the stone wall, taking a break.


    ¡°How are your nightmares?¡± he asked.


    I shrugged and kept raking.


    ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re going to have to be more specific,¡± I said. ¡°Which nightmare?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re having other nightmares now?¡±


    ¡°Yup. It¡¯s kind of hard to say if it¡¯s an improvement.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not¡­it¡¯s not Aubert¡¯s death, is it?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s me drowning.¡±


    ¡°That sounds awful.¡±


    I shrugged.


    He said, ¡°You look better, Emerra. More rested.¡±


    I stopped to lean on the rake. ¡°I am. I have a greater variety of nightmares now, but I only have one or two a night. It¡¯s not every time I fall asleep.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like an improvement to me.¡±


    A tired smirk appeared on my face. ¡°Yeah. I guess I¡¯ll take what I can get.¡± I went back to raking.


    ¡°I heard the defense called you yesterday to ask if you¡¯d be a witness.¡±


    I stopped again. ¡°Are they allowed to do that? I mean, I¡¯m already a witness for the prosecution.¡±


    ¡°They are in the Torr courts. I don¡¯t know about normal courts.¡±


    I went to run my hand over the bandage on my scalp, but I stopped myself. It¡¯d become a habit if I wasn¡¯t careful.


    ¡°Are you going to do it?¡± Conrad asked.


    ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to testify on Frost¡¯s behalf?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I gathered up the last of the leaves into the pile.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to, you know. Not in this case.¡±


    ¡°I know. Darius already talked to me about it. But I want to speak up for him. I¡¯m the only one who can. Most of the time, all you can do is tell your story and hope the jury believes you, but I can actually tell them what Frost was thinking and feeling. That¡¯s pretty special.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    I whistled. ¡°Come on, Kappa. Time to be helpful.¡±


    Two big, black eyes surfaced in the leaves.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°It¡¯s the last bag,¡± I said. ¡°Nice and small.¡±


    The leaf pile shook its head.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help,¡± Conrad said.


    ¡°No,¡± I waved him back. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. You saved my life. It¡¯s not like I can¡¯t handle a bunch of dead leaves.¡±


    ¡°That reminds me, next time you¡¯re running for your life, could you do me a favor and run outside. I can track a scent inside a building, but it¡¯s harder to guess where it¡¯s going. And just because I heal fast, that doesn¡¯t mean I like jumping through windows.¡±


    I grinned as I opened the leaf bag. ¡°I¡¯ll try to remember that.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do about the b¨°id?¡±


    Ah, yes. The great oath of secrecy.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m invoking it,¡± I said. ¡°Guaranteed. I heard that Mr. Ashworth is going to be in the audience, and I enjoy tweaking his nose.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a noble reason.¡±


    ¡°And when I do, they all have to leave?¡±


    ¡°The only people who stay are the judge, the main counsels, the four jurymen, and anyone you¡¯ve given special dispensation.¡±


    ¡°So you could stay?¡±


    ¡°If you want.¡±


    ¡°Well, I mean, you already know about my powers, so there¡¯d be no reason to kick you out.¡± I took a second to shove in some more leaves. ¡°It¡¯s a good rule. I¡¯m glad they have it.¡±


    ¡°We have to have something like that in our community. There¡¯s lots of people who can pass as normal that don¡¯t want their powers known. But it does cause some problems.¡±


    I liked how he said our community, but I didn¡¯t bother mentioning it.


    ¡°What kind of problems?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s not always easy to tell where powers begin and end. I heard that you were causing some issues.¡±


    I stopped. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°The prosecutor and Darius were debating whether or not your guess that it was Aubert would fall under clairvoyance.¡±


    I shook my head and finished swiping in the last of the leaves. One escaped. I tossed it to the side.


    ¡°That had nothing to do with whatever powers people think I have,¡± I said.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Then how did you know?¡±


    I tied off the bag, threw it into the pile with the others, and went to join Conrad on the wall. I had to climb a bit so I could sit up there beside him.


    ¡°No one wants to be only tolerated,¡± I said. ¡°I know that. I know how desperate that can make you. Drix had enough talent that she could become Uhler¡¯s apprentice. Aubert was only tolerated because he was smart.¡±


    When Conrad didn¡¯t answer, I glanced over. He was looking at me with those soft, pale yellow eyes of his. I didn¡¯t like how they were looking right through me, so I decided to change the subject.


    ¡°It¡¯s Halloween today.¡± I kicked the heels of my chucks against the wall. ¡°What kind of candy do we have?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t get trick-or-treaters out here.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯ve got a creepy Victorian mansion owned by a rich dude! It¡¯s the perfect place to go trick-or-treating!¡±


    ¡°The kids probably figure they can get more candy if they stay in town and knock on more doors.¡±


    Yeah. That was fair. When it came to sugar, kids could calculate better than a member of Mensa.


    ¡°Then what are we going to do for Halloween?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We don¡¯t usually do anything.¡±


    ¡°What! Why not?¡±


    The wolfman gave me a look.


    I pointed at him. ¡°No. That¡¯s not an excuse this time. This is our holiday. Think about it! Iset makes the perfect mummy. Olivia already has a full witch costume. Darius¡ª¡± An image popped into my head. I laughed. ¡°We¡¯ll have to buy Darius one of those cheap capes with red lining.¡±


    ¡°And fake fangs?¡±


    ¡°Definitely fake fangs. Do you think he¡¯d do a Transylvanian accent?¡±


    ¡°Not even if you paid him.¡±


    ¡°You could go as a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wolfman?¡±


    ¡°I was going to say lumberjack.¡±


    ¡°None of my flannel shirts are plaid.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll think of something.¡±


    ¡°And what will you go as? A zombie?¡±


    My world went cold. A quiet gasp rushed into my chest.


    ¡°Oh, geez,¡± I breathed.


    ¡°Mera?¡± Conrad sounded worried.


    The words came out as a whispered thread: ¡°That¡¯s right. That¡¯s exactly what I am.¡±


    ¡°Mera, I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a zombie, Conrad! I¡¯m a freaking zombie.¡±


    I laughed so hard Conrad had to put a hand on my back to stop me from falling off the wall.


    ¡°Braaaaaaiiiiiiiins,¡± I moaned. ¡°Oh! Dude! I already have some ripped jeans. Do you think Mrs. Park can bring me some green face paint?¡± I put a hand on my bald head. ¡°I¡¯ll need a lot of it.¡±


    ¡°My arm still hurts,¡± Conrad said. ¡°If I buy you a bag of candy, can we stay in and watch The Power Puff Girls?¡±


    It said a lot that he was willing to make that deal. Conrad didn¡¯t like The Power Puff Girls as much as he liked One Punch Man.


    ¡°Ohhh, fine,¡± I said. ¡°But only because you saved my life.¡± I pointed at him. ¡°Next year, wolf-boy.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see, zombie-girl.¡±


    There was an amused smile on his dark lips. It was encouraging enough, I decided to put all my pride on the line and ask for the world¡¯s dumbest favor.


    I stared at the stray leaves still littering the grounds. ¡°Conrad, do you have a junk T-shirt that you¡¯re thinking of throwing away?¡±


    His brows pulled down.


    I blathered on, ¡°You know, that one shirt you never wear, and you always think about getting rid of it, but then you¡¯re too lazy?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering if I could¡­¡± I weighed the words¡ªborrow? have? Neither sounded good. ¡°I could use a shirt.¡±


    ¡°Mera, don¡¯t you think it¡¯d be a little big?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kind of the point. I need it for my pajamas.¡±


    ¡°I thought you already got some clothes.¡± He hopped down from the wall, picked up the rake with his good arm, and started toward the gardener¡¯s shed.


    I followed. ¡°Ah-ha! So you¡¯ve noticed I¡¯m not wearing the latest in gothic goth today.¡± I pulled out my bright green shirt to get a better look at it. ¡°Does it look good?¡±


    ¡°It suits you more.¡±


    ¡°Good enough.¡± It wasn¡¯t much of a compliment, but I figured that was about all a T-shirt could earn. ¡°I ordered a pair of those comfy pajama pants that come with a shirt, but the shirt they sent fits!¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s a bad thing?¡±


    ¡°Everybody knows that the most comfortable pajama shirt has to be a decade old and at least two sizes too big.¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯m two sizes bigger than you?¡±


    ¡°Fine. Seven. Look, everyone has a shirt they never wear. Now even I have a shirt I don¡¯t wear. Hey! We can trade!¡±


    There was a chuff of laughter. ¡°And what would I do with one of your shirts?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But it¡¯s got a really cute heart-dot pattern!¡±


    He stepped inside the shed long enough to put the rake away, then came back out. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ll help you out, but I¡¯m a little confused why you came to me.¡±


    We set off for the house.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± I said. ¡°I mean, Darius only wears suits, I¡¯m not sure if Jacky¡¯s clothes are even real, Iset looks great in her bandages, but they¡¯re not my style, Kappa runs around naked all the time, I don¡¯t know if Igor wears T-shirts under his sweaters, and Olivia¡¯s my size. And I¡¯m getting sick of black. Did I miss anyone?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you buy a shirt?¡±


    I raised a finger. ¡°A¡ªit would lack the well-aged factor that defines true T-shirt comfort.¡± I raised another finger. ¡°B¡ªI¡¯d have to order it online.¡± I dropped my hand. ¡°It¡¯s one thing to run down to Goodwill and buy a five dollar shirt. It¡¯s another to pay that much in shipping.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense. Come on. Let¡¯s get you taken care of.¡±


    I followed him up the back stairs and over to his room. When he went inside, I hesitated at the door.


    A second later, he leaned back to say, ¡°You can come in, Mera.¡±


    I felt the soft touch of awe that comes from invading previously forbidden territory. Behold! The private room!


    I was glad Conrad invited me in. I was curious what it looked like.


    Turns out, wolfmen are pretty boring when it comes to decorating their rooms. He was neat too. If it hadn¡¯t been for his smell lingering in the air, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell it apart from the guest rooms. He¡¯d even made the bed. I wasn¡¯t sure that was normal.


    I stood in front of a painting and called out, ¡°I take it this art was all here when you got here?¡±


    His answer came from the walk-in closet. ¡°Yeah. But I don¡¯t mind. It fits the room.¡±


    ¡°How long have you lived here?¡± I wandered over to the bookshelf beside his desk. Even the books looked like they belonged to the house.


    ¡°Five years.¡±


    Five years, and not a single personal item. For some reason, I felt sad.


    When I walked over to the bed, I saw there were two pillows. From the amount of fur clinging to each, I was able to guess which was his favorite.


    I smiled.


    At least he¡¯d left some evidence he lived here.


    He came back in the room and tossed me a shirt. ¡°Here.¡±


    I held it up, and my smile turned into a grin. The shirt was plain blue-gray, and it was worn enough, it looked like it had once done a tour as his favorite. It was also huge.


    ¡°It¡¯s perfect,¡± I said.


    ¡°I promise it¡¯s clean, but it¡¯s going to have my scent for a while.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Not much I can do about that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it. Thank you, Conrad. You¡¯re a lifesaver.¡± I bounced off toward the door, loot in hand, but stopped before I left. ¡°Hey! What¡¯s your favorite animal?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Favorite animal!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­have one? Who has a favorite animal?¡±


    ¡°Oh, please! I have, like, a hundred.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure it can be your ¡®favorite¡¯ if there¡¯s more than one.¡±


    ¡°Llamas, sloths, rabbits¡ªoh! Those cute little red pandas¡ªdogs, squirrels, kittens.¡± I paused, then added, with a pinch of emphasis, ¡°Wolves.¡±


    Conrad rolled his eyes. ¡°Why don¡¯t you pick one for me.¡±


    ¡°An octopus.¡±


    ¡°Not an octopus.¡±


    ¡°An otter?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll do. That¡¯s my favorite animal.¡±


    ¡°An otter?¡±


    ¡°Sure. They¡¯re cute.¡±


    ¡°Ohhkaay.¡±


    ¡°I feel like you¡¯re questioning my sincerity.¡±


    I laughed and opened the door. ¡°I¡¯m going to go put this away. Thanks again, Conrad.¡±

 Epilogue

    Four days later, Vasil followed Conrad into his room.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about this,¡± Darius said.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine¡ª¡± Conrad started to say.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t. They know that you were indispensable. Hell, you¡¯re the one that killed Aubert! I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re hoping to accomplish.¡±


    ¡°I knew what would happen when I chose to join you. It¡¯s not like it hasn¡¯t happened before.¡±


    The two of them crossed over to Conrad¡¯s desk. The wolfman leaned down and jerked on the stubborn second drawer. He took out a folder and started flipping through the paperwork.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Conrad said, ¡°I think their complaint is less about me being there and more about the amount of property damage I caused.¡±


    ¡°A magician wouldn¡¯t have caused any less.¡±


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    ¡°But that would have been authorized. I hear there¡¯s less paperwork¡ªnot that I would know.¡±


    Bauer flipped through five pages before Darius said softly, ¡°Do you ever think about going home?¡±


    The wolfman paused with his fingers still between the wafting papers. Seconds passed.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± he said.


    He resumed his search.


    ¡°Conrad, what is this thing?¡±


    Conrad glanced up. Darius was holding a stuffed animal. Its form was slightly clumsy, and it had been sewn from a heart-dotted knit fabric.


    ¡°It¡¯s an otter,¡± Conrad said. ¡°I¡¯ve been told his name is PJ.¡±


    ¡°It looks like some kind of long bear.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s an otter. See the tail?¡±


    ¡°Ah. What¡¯s it doing on your desk?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Sitting around doing nothing as far as I can tell.¡±


    Darius¡¯s eyes moved from PJ, to the wolfman, then back to PJ. ¡°What a little freeloader. Should I get rid of him?¡± When Conrad didn¡¯t answer, the count added, ¡°I doubt Emerra would mind. She probably gave it to you as a joke.¡±


    Conrad shrugged. ¡°He seems happy here. Why ruin it?¡±


    Darius looked at the sewn smile. ¡°He does seem happy.¡±


    ¡°Found it.¡± Conrad pulled out a sheet of paper and laid it on his desk.


    While he put the rest back in the drawer, Darius returned the otter to his home in the corner of the desk.


    The two left PJ to grin idiotically over his uncontested domain.

 Prologue to The Psychic Academy

    The night was a rare, clear one. There were no clouds to obscure the light. Beyond the tower windows, a few stars stood out against the navy sky, defying the moonlight that was trying to drown them out.


    The only light in the tower was what came through the windows. The person huddled against the curve of the staircase was in shadow.


    He¡¯d been sitting there long enough, the wall behind him had grown warm. When he rocked himself, sometimes he felt a cool line of the wall slip under one side of his back or the other. He tried to move as little as possible.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The only sound was his quiet muttering.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right. It¡¯s nothing. It was only a dream. I¡ª¡±


    He bit his lip, hard, and squeezed his eyes shut. The anxiety in his chest had built up until it was powerful enough to screw down on his sternum. He clenched his whole body, not allowing his lungs to move in and out, trying to hold back his heart beat.


    It beat on. Louder and faster.


    He had to breathe.


    On the first long, ragged inhale, he thought he could smell a wisp of smoke.


    ¡°Not again.¡±