Medium Rare: (Intermix) (24 page)

“And what is that—what are we supposed to do?” Rose let some of her own frustration spill over.

“Go to Bradford’s house tonight. Find him. Destroy the forms he assumes and you’ll destroy him. Each time you destroy one he loses power.”

“Does he have my mother’s . . . soul in that house?” Rose had to force the words out.

“Your mother’s soul is imprisoned. The demon’s destruction will set it free. Let the spirit animals guide you. That’s what they’re supposed to do. We’ll try to get into the house ourselves—we can provide some help, although it may be quite limited.” The light flickered again. For a moment, Rose thought it had faded slightly.

“Who’s helping? Who is
we
?”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, child, does it matter?” The voice sounded exasperated. “Myself. Skag. Any other interested spirits we can drum up—perhaps that medium you talked to would be willing to take a chance herself.”

“Why is all this happening?” She took a deep breath. “Is it my fault? Did I do something wrong with Skag?”

“This has very little to do with you. The demon wants to be back in the world with humans so that he can collect more souls to increase his power. Right now he can only be here for short periods. But he’s gaining strength. Soon he’ll be able to return whenever he wants. He’s trying to eliminate anyone or anything that might stand in his way. That’s you and your consort, as well as those who might help you, like Skag and those two miserable excuses for mediums. Now I’ve got to get back to the other realm, before I get stuck here permanently. The demon is lurking somewhere nearby—I can feel him.”

The light was definitely dimmer now. The woman was apparently leaving.

“But how?” Rose called desperately. “How are we supposed to destroy a demon?”

“I told you—destroy the material forms it assumes.” The woman’s voice was fainter now. “You can do it. It’s in your blood. It’s what we do. Save Deirdre. You’ll know how when the time comes.”

Her hands trembled against Evan’s. Something about the way the voice sounded . . . “Grandma Caroline,” she whispered. “Is that you?”

“And Rose, remember—don’t look back. Never look back.” The light disappeared with an almost audible
pop
.

Rose closed her eyes, feeling her heart pound. She knew her hands were trembling, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Gee,” she murmured, “that went well.”

Chapter 26

Rose spent the rest of the day at the hospital, sitting in her mother’s room when her father took one of his rare breaks, talking to her brothers and trying to answer their questions without really answering them. She tried her best not to think about William Bradford and her private consultation with him at seven thirty that evening. Of course, she couldn’t
not
think about Bradford. And his puppet master.

She wondered exactly what she could say to him when they had their consultation.
Why are you trying to kill me? Why did you hurt my mother? What do I have to do to get her soul back?
But of course she already knew the answer to that last one, courtesy of her grandmother—destroy the demon’s material form, which in this case was one William Bradford.

She wondered how the police would react to her explanation.
I killed him because he was possessed by a demon. Besides, he wasn’t really William Bradford anymore.
That one would probably go over really well. At least it might earn her an insanity defense.

She and Evan ate supper in silence. She knew Bradford’s minions would never let him near the master, but she wanted him there all the same. Which was just as well since he seemed determined to go. They’d just have to wait until they got to the mansion to decide what to do. Maybe Evan could find another way in after the assistants inevitably turned him away.

As they drove up I-10 toward the hills, she cleared her throat. “What should I ask him? Should I be straight and let him know we know what he is, or should I pretend to believe him?”

“There’s no point in pretending. If this demon is as powerful as everybody keeps saying he is, he’ll know the truth already. Play it by ear. See what he has to say for himself.”

Behind them, Helen moved restlessly, while Lenore muttered something that was probably snide. They’d both been waiting in the car when she and Evan had come out of the house. Clearly, since Grandma had said to follow the animals, they’d need them.

Evan pulled off the highway at a well-lighted exit, then headed up one of the winding boulevards that led back into the hills. Apparently, William Bradford had built himself a house in one of the swankier developments. Rose peered out the window at trailing live oak and pecans, original greenery interspersed with skillful landscaping. All the houses in this particular development were set well back from the road, lights faintly visible beyond forbidding stone walls and electronic gates.

“You have an address?”

She glanced at the slip of paper in her hand again. “One thirty Silver Oak.”

“That must be it up ahead.”

Unlike the others, Bradford’s place had no yard lights showing. The lawn spread, dark and rolling, up from the drive to the distant house, half-concealed in a grove of live oaks.

She rubbed her hands up her suddenly cool arms. “Why is this place so dark?”

“Got me. I don’t like it much, though.”

The house loomed before them, dark windows like pools of night. Not even a porch light was glowing.

“I know this is going to sound stupid,” Evan said quietly, “but are you sure this is the right night?”

She blew out a breath. “I’m sure.”

“Looks like your consultation has been cancelled.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Look.” She pointed at the front door, which stood open, another patch of darkness against the gray walls. “Do you think that’s supposed to be an invitation?”

He shook his head. “More like a dare.”

“Do we take it?”

“Do we have a choice? We have to stop him. It might as well be here.”

He reached into the glove compartment, rummaging around until he found a flashlight. After a moment of digging into a far corner, he pulled out a jackknife. “This may not be much use, but it’s all we’ve got.”

Rose’s shoulders tightened. At least she was wearing jeans and running shoes. Too bad she didn’t also have a Glock. “Ready?”

He nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Helen and Lenore were waiting for them outside the car. In spite of what her grandmother had said, at the moment the animals seemed to be more inclined to follow the humans. A winding stone walkway led from the drive where they’d parked the car to broad stairs and a flagstone front porch. Corinthian columns rose on either side, supporting the peaked porch roof overhead. Evan clicked on the flashlight and shone it through the open front door.

A massive stairway curved to the right, up to a second floor that was shrouded in darkness. A hall to the left led toward what looked like a series of doors, probably living and dining rooms. Rose stood very still, but she couldn’t hear anything. The house seemed to be profoundly empty.

“What now?” she asked, dropping her voice almost to a whisper. Something about the silence made her edgy.

“We go inside,” Evan said grimly. Behind him, Helen whined. “It’s okay. It’s what we have to do.”

He stepped forward across the threshold. Rose took a deep breath, and then followed him, trailed by Helen and Lenore.

“I’m not sure where . . . ,” Evan began.

Behind them, the massive front door swung shut in utter silence. Rose stood still for a moment, willing her heart rate to slow, then turned back to grasp the knob. She wasn’t entirely surprised when it didn’t move in her hand.

Evan shook his head. “Predictable. Don’t let it get to you. He’s just trying to scare us.”

And in that, of course, he was succeeding. She paused and took another deep breath.
Ma. Think about Ma.
“What do we do now?”

“Let’s take the tour.” He started up the hall toward the first door, shining his flashlight inside. A living room stretched at least half the length of the house, filled with couches and chairs arranged into small groups. Evan stepped inside, shining his light along the walls as Helen walked behind him. “Wonder how he got the minions to take the night off. Maybe they’re off doing something miniony.”

She stepped after him, pausing inside the door to get her bearings. Evan’s light moved farther into the room, disappearing around one of the clumps of furniture. She started after him, then stopped again. The darkness around her felt suffocating. Evan’s light had disappeared.

“Evan? Where are you?”

She paused, listening. The thick carpet seemed to absorb the sound of her footsteps. Some hints of moonlight glinted at the windows. “Evan?”

Her heart gave a solid thump. The silence in the room seemed deeper than it had before. “Helen,” she called. “Come here. Come here to me.”

No footsteps. No sound of the dog moving across the floor toward her.

She stood very still. Focusing all her attention on the far side of the room, where she’d seen them just a moment ago. Where they weren’t any longer. She could see the shapes of the furniture, the outlines of the windows, the dimmer outline of the door she’d stepped through a moment before.

But no Evan. No Helen. No Lenore.

Rose closed her eyes, biting her lip to keep her teeth from chattering. She was completely alone. She stepped forward carefully in the semidarkness until she bumped against something on the floor. She stopped, staring down.

Shards of moonlight from an unshaded window glimmered dimly on the floor in front of her, illuminating the undoubtedly dead face of William Bradford.

***

Evan stood still, trying to get his bearings. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn they were back in the entry hall again. He ran his flashlight along the wall, shaking his head. “We must have circled around and come out.”

Rose didn’t answer. He half-turned to reassure her and saw nothing but darkness behind him. He swung the flashlight back, staring down the now-empty hall to the distant front door, then back again. No one was in the hall with him except the animals.

Rose was gone.

He whirled back toward the door they’d come through, only to find a solid wall in front of him. No doors to be seen.

“Rose!” he shouted. “Where are you? Answer me, Goddamnit!” He ran his hands over the wall, trying to find the opening they’d just come through, but the surface seemed solid.

“What the hell?” He stared at the wall, then back at the distant door. Or where the distant door had been a moment before.

Clearly, something was messing with him, with all of them, and the chances seemed very good that something wasn’t human. All the more reason to find Rose.

In the silence he heard Helen’s faint whine. She trotted a few steps down the hall, glancing back at him expectantly.

“No, we’ve got to find Rose. The demon’s screwing with us.”

Helen whined again, more persistently this time. Above him, Lenore fluttered over to the wall, cawing. Something was leaning against it, beneath her flapping wings. Evan raised the flashlight slightly and saw what looked like a hand-carved walking stick, with a piece of leather laced through the top.

What the hell? More demon crap?

The staff might be from the demon, something that only looked innocuous. On the other hand, Grandma Caroline had said they’d try to break through the wards. Maybe this was meant for him.

Just like Dungeons and Dragons—pick up the weapons as you go.
He took the walking stick and glanced at Helen.

“Will you take me to Rose?”

Helen turned and began trotting up the hall. After a moment, Evan followed her, swinging the walking stick in one hand and holding the flashlight in the other as Lenore settled onto his shoulder.

Helen seemed to know where she was going—or at least she acted like she did. She moved ahead purposefully, her great paws muffled by the thick carpet as she trotted. Maybe she had an idea about where Rose was. Thank God, Helen at least had a plan.

Lenore flexed her claws into his shoulder as if to remind him she was there, too.
All right, Helen and Lenore had a plan.

He held the flashlight up a bit higher, staring into the darkness ahead of them. The wall was still solid, but Evan had an uneasy feeling they’d crossed over some other dimension. Maybe one where the demon was waiting. The reality around them seemed to be shifting. Of course
reality
in this place seemed to be a sort of shaky concept. He was pretty sure they’d left his kind of reality behind once they’d stepped inside the front door.

On his shoulder, Lenore flapped her wings, muttering. Helen’s pace slowed.

Evan raised his flashlight again, peering into the darkness. Somewhere far overhead he thought he heard a sound, a rustling, a faint disturbance in the air.

Helen growled low in her throat, while Evan turned the flashlight toward the ceiling. A ceiling that was suddenly much farther away than it had been a few seconds ago.

High overhead, the surface seemed to undulate, as if it were alive. The rustling became a whirring, then a shrill discordant chirping. Evan caught his breath. He recognized the sound from his own nightmares.
Oh, shit!

The darkness seemed to coalesce, to become a series of fluttering shapes that became more distinct as they moved nearer. The sound was sharper, too, and Evan tightened his hand on the walking stick, raising it protectively in front of him. At least now he knew why it had been left for him. He glanced up again to confirm what he already knew—hundreds of rapidly descending bat wings beat through the air just above their heads.

A bat dived toward him, and he swung his staff in its general direction. He heard its high-pitched squeak, almost like batty laughter, as its wings brushed his shoulder.

He grasped the gnarled top of the stick and swung the base at the bat swarm in a rough circle, which seemed to send the bats fluttering higher. For a moment, he wished he had Skag’s broom again, but the stick was better than nothing. After another couple of feints, he switched hands and swung the flashlight in a swooping arc that caught a bat directly above him. It disappeared, shrieking, in a puff of dust.

He alternated between stick and flashlight, slashing them back and forth. Another bat swished by his head and he felt a quick pinprick on his ear. Something warm dripped down to his neck. He touched the side of his face. His fingers came away wet.

He gritted his teeth. In his dreams, the bats had confined themselves to diving at his head. They’d never bitten him.
Don’t make the mistake of thinking of this as a dream.
The reality they were currently inhabiting might be shaky, but it was solid enough to kill.

He thrust the walking stick upward again, trying to drive the bats back toward the ceiling. Beside him, Helen bared her teeth, leaping up to snap at the nearest leathery wings.

Another diving bat collided with the flashlight and went
poof
. But as he looked up, he could see the air above them dark with flapping wings. Dozens of bats, hundreds, maybe thousands. More than he could whack with a stick and a flashlight, anyway.

Two more bats dived at his face, and he slapped them away. He felt a quick flare of pain along the side of his hand where bat fangs had punctured.

Lenore hovered uneasily behind his shoulder as the bats swirled closer. Another bat made a quick dive at his head, sending him staggering backward.

And Lenore took wing.

Her cry sounded more like an eagle’s than a raven’s, a wild shrieking call to battle. She flew into the center of the swirling mass of bat wings, her talons extended. And then she was wheeling overhead, pecking, tearing, slashing at the mass of bat bodies.

Evan saw a bat fasten onto the raven’s shoulder, sinking its teeth into her wing. He grabbed the staff again and swatted it away, then another and another. Bats exploded, screeching, writhing from Lenore’s talons.

Somewhere beside him, he heard Helen barking, and then he felt her teeth close lightly on his pant leg.

He looked down. Helen stared with glowing eyes, then began to drag him inexorably down the hall, away from the swirling mass of bats.

“No, Helen! We’ve got to help Lenore.”

Helen growled softly, pulling him further around a curve. Behind him the bats swirled, closing in on Lenore.

Ignoring Evan.

Helen jerked his pant leg again, insistently. He looked back once more. Lenore had disappeared in the churning scrum of bats, their squeaking cries drowning out her caws. Helen jerked again.