Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 (20 page)

“Works for me.”

With the car tucked beneath a hedge, both men walked away and into the small forest that covered a low hill. It was quiet here, far enough away from the traffic to class as definitely suburban with a heavy dash of country.

Five minutes later, they both stopped and surveyed the terrain. From this perspective, they could clearly see the back of the Larson mansion, the separate garage, a greenhouse affair and some landscaping.

“Not much cover.” Buck narrowed his gaze at the sparse shrubbery.

“Yeah. That’s a pain. I was hoping for bushes or something, preferably right up to the back of the house.”

“There’s a door.” Buck pointed. “Looks like it might lead down into the basement.”

The house itself was several floors high, each delineated by a slightly different arrangement of siding. The lowest level was stone, something both men knew was typical of older foundations.

“Okay. I can try that.” He glanced at Buck. “I hate to ask, but can you give it the once-over?” His request had nothing to do with vision and everything to do with Buck’s AG talent for sensing emotions, events and leftover impressions. Being a cognitive, Buck’s skills were often called upon at crime scenes, and Cheney knew it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for his friend.

Buck nodded. “Gimme a minute.”

There were birds singing above them, the sounds of the trees surrounding them—Cheney wished Pandora could be there and share it. She’d appreciate and understand the tranquil beauty of the moment, no matter how brief it was.

Then Buck shifted. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“It’s there. That
cold
feeling. All over the damn place.” He darted a quick look at Cheney, all humor gone from his face. “This is it. Whatever it was I picked up way back at the beginning of the basilisk killings—it’s here. No mistake about it.”

“Shit.”

“Bone-chilling cold. The kind of cold that goes past winter and into your soul. Bad, dark cold. Like a fog over the ground.” He blinked, his eyes unfocused. “It’s thickest around the house and—and—” He frowned. “There’s a shitload around that old fountain, but I don’t know why. It’s like dust hovering over a crossroads right there.”

Cheney was already speaking into his phone, giving the address. “Officers investigating potential murder suspect. Request backup in the area, Code Two no lights.”

Buck heaved in a breath and waited, knowing the request would bring a car, but silently.

“That’s right. Just backup for now.” Cheney was talking rapidly. “Make sure they don’t come in like cowboys.” He listened. “Got it.”

“No gunfight?”

“Not if I can help it.” Cheney closed his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. “Don’t wanna spook our old lady. Or whoever’s with her in that place.”

“Good thinking.”

“We need good planning too. You take the exterior.”

“Uh…” Buck gazed across the grass. “Okay, but where?”

“The fountain. If you head that way, I’ll make sure nobody sees you. And when you get there—how do you feel about wisteria?”

“The purple stuff?”

Cheney nodded. “Yep. I think I can hold the illusion while I check stuff out. At least long enough for you to tuck yourself into those bushes.”

“’Kay. Say when.”

“Now.”

Cheney watched and concentrated, twisting his mental abilities as his partner walked rapidly over the grass. Buck shimmered out of sight, only re-emerging for a few seconds when he reached the back of the fountain.

Once again, he focused and locked on Buck, creating the illusion of more tangled vines. It was working.

Now it was his turn. He headed for the door in the side of the house, noticing that everything seemed pretty deserted and still. Perhaps his illusions weren’t necessary, or perhaps they were. Who could say?

He believed firmly in the better-safe-than-sorry philosophy. This task wasn’t too complex and the illusion was solid within his mind. As long as it stayed there, he’d be free to wander through the house even as Buck kept an eye on the outside. He could disguise his own presence if he had to.

And no one would know about either of ’em, God willing.

He reached for the door and found it unlocked. Slowly he pushed it open and slipped silently inside.

Helplessly, Pandora rose, asking herself when and where she’d lost control of her faculties. Her mind was still working, albeit fuzzily, but she seemed unable to resist Victoria’s direction. Her back ached fiercely now, and she found herself wondering if her wings would tear her blouse if they emerged at this moment.

“This way.” Victoria touched something and a bookshelf swung wide, revealing a corridor. “We’ll go downstairs. That’s where all the interesting things are. And that’s what you want to see, don’t you? After all, you did take care of my little pet for me. I’m sure you’re curious where he came from.” She sounded almost sad. “Pity you discovered his real nature before I could retrieve him. I’d never gone quite that far before. But it still wouldn’t hold together.”

“Uhh…”

“And I do apologize for the fire, but something had to be done to remove the evidence. I
felt
it when he disintegrated, you know. Some sort of bond, I suppose. Just like I felt that wonderful sense of power when my other creation obeyed my command.” She shivered and licked her lips. “Now
that
was exciting. All that sexual passion, all that warmth and then—poof.”

Pandora struggled with this. “The killings…”

Victoria nodded. “Oh yes. Such fun. I think the basilisk mutation was quite inspired.”

This was bad. Very bad, and she didn’t seem to be able to put two coherent words together. She’d been drugged. Like some stupid idiot, she’d walked into the spider’s web and was suffering the consequences.

Cheney was going to be
really
pissed off at her.

The thought of him comforted her for a second or two. Cheney. He’d know, wouldn’t he? Could he sense any of what she was experiencing? As she followed Victoria down the passageway, she held fast to that notion.

It was the only thing that kept the screams at bay as they emerged into what seemed like a chamber of horrors.

A large cavernous room stretched out before Pandora’s eyes. The ceiling was wood, beamed and strung with ancient cobwebs. All around her were tables with glass jars of varying sizes, containing…
what
?

“I see you’re admiring my samples. Amazing, aren’t they?” Victoria caressed one of the vessels lovingly. “This was an early test.”

It was—well, once it had been an animal of some sort perhaps. Now it was a terrible jumble of limbs floating in liquid. And it wasn’t alone. Each of the jars held some monstrosity, worse than the last, and as they walked down the aisle between the tables, Pandora felt nausea rise in her throat. The larger containers toward the end held things that had clearly once been human. It was the most terrible sight, something out of a horror movie she would never have gone to see.

But this was
real
.

“Now you just sit here, dear.” Victoria pushed her down onto a seat with arms but no backrest. “You can release your wings quite safely.” Two straps clicked tight around Pandora’s wrists. “I had this made just for creatures like you.”

Fighting to resist, she found herself sitting as directed, her will gone, her ability to run from this nightmare nonexistent.

She managed to look at Victoria. “Why me? What are you
?
” Her tongue was thick and awkward in her mouth.

“What am I?” Victoria stepped back and nodded, satisfied that her
guest
was completely restrained. “Ah yes, that is the question, isn’t it?” She smiled. “Yes, I think I’ll let you see. It’s been quite some time since I shared my special talents with anyone. And I’m sure you’ll appreciate them, my dear. You seem like an intelligent person. For a Fae, anyway.” She made an attempt at a laugh, but it came out all wrong.

“I had hoped to have that detective of yours here. He has power, you know. A strong power. Something I could really use. I’ve been watching him for a while now, in my own unique way.” The smile accompanying this chilling statement was anything but comforting. “I would have tried for the other one, but it seems he’s too involved with some other strong AGs. It might’ve tipped my hand a little too soon.”

Pandora blinked, trying to focus on the old woman’s face. It seemed to be changing. Contorting.
Shifting
.

“You—
shift
—” It was the best her vocal cords could do.

There was no answer. Nor did there need to be, since the proof was emerging right before her horrified eyes.

No longer was there an elderly woman standing in front of her. Now it was someone else—
something
else. The neat hair shriveled and vanished as if it had never existed, leaving a pale bald scalp. The softly wrinkled face moved, like nasty things crawling beneath the skin. Flesh shrank, contours disappeared, the structure of the head itself changed into something almost impossible to describe.

Large eyeballs emerged from skinless sockets. Lacking lids, they seemed unreal, but when they moved to stare at Pandora she shivered. It was all too real, this thing, this shifting mess of ghastly images.

Lips peeled away, leaving teeth and gums to complete the skeletal appearance. There was still some semblance of a human, but not enough to describe this thing as such. Long past fear, Pandora was frozen, locked onto the chair, forced to watch this…this
monster
…

“There we are.” It croaked raw sounds. “Much better.”

Was that an attempt at a smile? It might have been, but since the flesh of the mouth had vanished, it was hard to tell.

The body had shifted too. It now seemed male, although not all the bits were where they should be. There was still some softness around the breasts and one shoulder was much broader than the other. Mismatched pieces, assembled haphazardly into a frightening semblance of life.

Dear God above
. Pandora could only stare and shake within her bonds. What the
hell
was it?

“I expect you’re curious.” The thing began pacing a little, almost like it was learning to walk again. Its voice was raw, harsh, inhuman, jarring on Pandora’s ears. The ache in her back was increasing, growing stronger, and it took all the strength she had to
not
release her wings in front of this horror.

“Anyone would be, under the circumstances. Since you’re looking at a miracle of science, I think it’s only right to explain.”

It preened. There was no other word to describe the smug way it crossed its ungainly arms and stared at her.

“I am Laurence Prendergast. And all of his accumulated knowledge.” It tapped its skull-like head. “Up here. Implanted when I was simply the child Victoria.”

Pandora sucked in a breath that the creature mistook for awe.

“Yes, you’re right to be impressed. Grandfather Prendergast and I shared a very distinct strand of DNA that made it possible. Far too complicated for you to understand, of course, since it’s so advanced not even the top scientists would be able to grasp the significance.”

Arrogance. Sheer arrogance. It came through loud and clear.

“I was a shape shifter, which helped. With a few additions, I became even more powerful. And when my grandfather found the ghoul gene—well, as you can see, I am now more powerful than ever. A true chimera, Pandora. A
chimera
. Incredible, isn’t it? Something the world has never seen, not in your lifetime, anyway.”

Pandora tried to shake her head violently.

“Oh don’t be stupid. Such things must be done to advance science.” The thing paused in front of her. “And I’m continuing my grandfather’s work. Advancing science. Making discoveries every day. Exciting discoveries. Discoveries that will—” It paused, then straightened. “Discoveries that will right the wrong done to my family’s name and reputation. And perhaps erase some of the scars left behind.”

It leaned forward, those terrible grinning teeth inches from Pandora’s nose.

“Did you know they shot them? Those brilliant minds that had forged ahead into unknown realms? Took them out and shot them in the head. One by one.” It shuddered theatrically. “All because some weak people in positions of power were squeamish about the experiments.”

Thankfully it moved back, giving her chance to breathe, to force herself to think, to battle the urge to release her AG talent. To try desperately to retain some iota of sanity. For surely one couldn’t go through this and still stay sane.

“And now you’re here.” It strolled to a table with a variety of equipment on it. “My control experiments have done quite nicely. But I realized I had been making one very stupid error. I used vassals who were not as intelligent as they should have been. I can control them well, of course. That was never in doubt. But I underestimated the fact that a good physical specimen might not perform as successfully as one with an excellent mind as well.”

Pandora moaned, the only sound she could produce.

“Physically fit, attractive and well above average in the brains department. Quite a compelling combination and one that works perfectly for the next phase of my experiments. Which is where you come in. Yes, I’d have preferred your young man, but you’re an adequate substitute. And there’s always a risk when dealing with law enforcement. So I will make do with what I have.”

It sighed, a peculiarly feminine sound emanating from that skeletal mouth. “If it succeeds, then I shall definitely move on to the detective. Perhaps you’ll bring him to me. He’s common, of course, and sometimes quite disgusting, but very intelligent. Plus I want to know about his AG talent. There’s no end of things to explore…”

The claw-like fingers worked deftly over the equipment, connecting things, arranging things, scaring the crap out of the woman secured to her seat opposite the table.

“I shall so much enjoy controlling you. No more mundane activities. This time—we shall go much further together, my dear.” It turned, two blinking discs in its hands. “Now, if you’ll just obey me and release your AG talent, we’ll begin.”

The hands neared her temples and paused, waiting for Pandora to change.