Greywalker - Kat Richardson [123]
“Why not?”
“Bit of a monster, himself, isn’t he?”
“Maybe I should just wear it all the time.”
Mara showed me a mock frown. “Not too sociable of you—wearing charms against your helper. Besides, it won’t hold long if the artifact is drawing power. It’s just a trinket.”
She looked at the descending sun. “You’d best get going. Wouldn’t be wise to let him get there first. I’ll be along after I check on Brian and hand him off to Ben.”
I braced myself and headed out.
The cloud cover contributed to an early darkness and the sky was lumpy black when I pulled into the wet gravel lot across from the Madison Forrest House. The scent of more impending rain thickened the air. I sat in the Rover, waiting and watching the front door.
An orange and green taxi pulled up in front of the museum. Carlos rose out of the backseat and stood looking at the building a moment while the taxi drove off. From this distance, his presence didn’t affect me. He turned his head left and right, then was still. He whirled and walked straight toward me. It startled me and I jerked in my seat.
He strode to my side of the truck and looked in. He beckoned.
Coming to his sign seemed like I was ceding control to him and I’d done quite enough of that lately. I didn’t think it would be a good idea, either. On the other hand, if he wanted to harm me, he’d had plenty of chances before this.
I rolled down the window. “You made it,” I said.
“Yes. Where’s your witch?”
Mara pulled in just as I started to answer. He turned to look and I got out of the truck while his back was turned.
Mara seemed to tumble out of her car. Her hair was a bit wild and her eyes were sparkling. Holding on to her purse, she rushed to the side of my truck.
“Sorry I’m late. Someone didn’t want to go to sleep.” She looked Carlos straight in the eye with no sign of discomfort. “Hello. Ready to go?”
He nodded. Then he looked at me. “No introduction?”
“Carlos,” I started, glancing toward Mara, “this is . . .” She gave a sharp shake of her head behind Carlos’s shoulder. “. . . our witch.”
He frowned, making my innards churn. He glanced back at Mara and nodded at her.
She smiled and spoke in a pleasant tone. “Tricky bastard, aren’t you?”
He went still. Then one side of his mouth turned upward. “I am.”
“Shall we go?” Mara suggested. “You can almost see the bloody thing glowing from here.”
We all turned and stared toward the house. The upstairs parlor windows seemed to have become red glass. Shadow-light limned the trees in the yard a gory crimson to my Grey-adapted sight. I did not want to enter that building. I shot a look at Mara, who made a face and took my arm in a warm grip. With a steady stride, she walked with me to the gate. Carlos followed behind.
I rang the intercom and, after a delay, the curator let us in. “You mind if I don’t come up?” she asked. “As long as I’m stuck here, I’ve got some paperwork to get through. Just buzz the intercom when you leave and I’ll lock up. OK?”
Her relaxed attitude surprised me, until I noticed both Carlos and Mara looking very hard at her. More than one tricky bastard in this lot.
Once she was gone, we started up the stairs. At the top, I stopped and swayed, momentarily nauseated. Mara supported my elbow. Carlos brushed past both of us and opened the parlor door.
A rush of horrors poured out of the room. I jerked away before I realized I had seen more than felt them. My heart raced and I felt ice on my spine, but I could stand it.
Mara nodded at me and led the way into the parlor. Carlos was a few feet in front of the organ, staring at it. He turned his head to glance at us. An ugly smile oozed across his face.
“Amazing.”
“Disgusting is more like,” Mara replied. She pushed me into a chair as far from the organ as possible. “Let’s get on with it.”
Carlos shrugged his eyebrows and turned back to face the organ. Mara stepped back a pace and made a few sparkling signs in the air behind him. They rained a curtain of mist and white pickets. I could hear Carlos muttering, and a thin, sour odor threaded through the room. Mara walked in