Ilya, too, looked at him and shook his head.
If he couldn’t find the bodies, would he find any identification and be able to provide the next of kin with a Deceased, Location Unknown form?
Almost got through this night without anyone dying. I guess the blood prophet was right about the image of a coffin for us.
Accepting what he couldn’t change, Grimshaw stepped inside and closed the door.
Everyone nibbled on food and drank too much. Understandable under the circumstances, and not a problem for the folks staying at The Jumble, but not so good when it came to getting the four academics back to the Mill Creek Cabins.
When Julian joined him, Grimshaw immediately scanned the room for Vicki.
“She’s in the kitchen with the Crows, putting more nibbles on plates,” Julian said.
“She’s okay?”
“Nervy, but she’s holding it together.”
“You going to stay over?”
Julian hesitated, knowing what Grimshaw was asking. Then he finally said, “Vicki isn’t ready for that kind of guest.”
Vicki had her own efficiency apartment in the main house, a perk of being the owner/caretaker of The Jumble. Grimshaw knew Julian didn’t always go back to the Mill Creek cabin he rented at Silence Lodge, but apparently he was making use of an available room when he stayed over. Not surprising that this romance was like a tortoise race, since both parties had traumatic pasts.
“I’m sober enough to drive,” Julian continued, “so I can drive the minivan two of the academics arrived in, and Ilya says Boris will be over soon and he can drive the other car—if the men don’t end up staying here and sleeping on sofas or in chairs.”
“How many do you figure will vote for a sleepover?”
“Most of them. Having the universities rent some of the Mill Creek Cabins in order to mingle with the Others is a new venture. I have a feeling the people aren’t going to want to see whatever you might find on your way out of The Jumble.”
“Is that a feeling or a feeling?”
“Let’s call it an ex-cop’s intuition, since you know as well as I do that not all four of those boys got away.”
“Yeah.” And there wasn’t a damn thing he could have done about that. Sometimes that was a hard truth to live with.
CHAPTER 6
Vicki
Windsday, Grau 31
Aggie, Jozi, and Eddie shifted back to looking fully human, which helped all the guests relax. Or it was an alcohol-induced relaxation. Julian had poured me a stiff glass of relaxation after those four boys ran away, so I was able to pretend aggressive men didn’t scare me. I think everyone believed that I wasn’t worried that those boys would come back when there were fewer people about. Everyone except Julian, of course. And Grimshaw. And Ilya.
Julian didn’t offer any of the words that sounded kindly meant but were never kind because the words indicated surprise that any leering or lusting would be aimed at someone who looked like me—a short, pudgy thirty-year-old woman whose curly brown hair usually gave the impression it had been styled by sticking a fork in an electrical outlet. Julian doesn’t see me that way, which I don’t understand but am working to accept since he’s a good friend. I think he would like to be more than a friend, and sometimes I think I’d like him to be more than a friend, but every time I wonder what it would be like to kiss him—or be kissed by him—I suddenly hear my ex-husband’s voice telling me to use some mouthwash because who would want to kiss someone whose breath smelled like that? Since I always brushed my teeth at bedtime and Yorick never did, I never understood why it was my breath that smelled bad. It took a long time to realize those remarks were another way to control my feelings and leave me vulnerable to other manipulation, but those memories still got in the way of my exploring anything more than friendship with Julian.
Having had enough socializing, Fred and Wilma Cornley, the almost newlyweds, took a plate of pizza and other treats up to their room. Two of the Owlgard and two Hawks showed up with an almost-human-looking Cougar to help finish off the snacks in the heads-or-tails bowl. Jenna McKay made arrangements with Bobcat to do our donkey-cart tour of The Jumble tomorrow. Ilya and Natasha were holding glasses of red wine—I hoped—and listening to a couple of men talk about . . . Well, I wasn’t sure if they were trying to impress the Sanguinati with their academic credentials or were trying to persuade Ilya to invest in something, but I hustled over to Grimshaw intending to ask him to break up that conversation before one or both men ended up with an extreme case of anemia.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
And that’s when someone thumped on the front door.
Ilya and Natasha turned in that direction. So did Julian and Grimshaw. And I headed for the door.
And Aggie and Jozi rushed to the door, gleefully shouting, “Another trickster!”
No one at the door. No one within the reach of the lights.
A rattling sound came out of the dark, and I heard Grimshaw say, “Crap!” as he rushed toward the door.
Rattle, rattle, rattle. Then something stepped out of the dark.
I caught a glimpse of ragged feathers and a skin-over-bone crow’s head with black eye sockets.
Aggie and Jozi sucked in a breath.
A feathery hand pointed at them and a harsh voice said, “Gonna gitcha.”
Aggie and Jozi screamed and knocked me into Grimshaw as they bolted toward the kitchen. Grimshaw shoved me into Julian’s arms as he and Ilya ran out the door. But the thing I’d seen was already gone.
“Gods above and below,” one of the academics said. “I never thought I would see . . .”
He looked excited and sick, which was unnerving, but I needed to find Aggie and Jozi. And Eddie, since he seemed to have disappeared too.
Julian and I found Aggie and Jozi hiding under the kitchen table. Aggie had a skillet. Jozi had a rolling pin. They were shaking and whimpering.
I crawled under the table with them, my size for once being an advantage. “It was a scary costume,” I offered.
Jozi shook her head. “Coming to get us.”
“Who is coming to get you?” Julian asked quietly, crouching beside the table in order to see us.
Aggie looked at him, her dark eyes filled with terror—and resignation. Then she whispered, “Crowbones.”
CHAPTER 7
Grimshaw
Windsday, Grau 31
Grimshaw took two steps into the dark before Ilya grabbed his arm to stop him.
“I’ll look around,” Ilya said.
“It’s my job.”
“It’s not your territory. Jurisdiction. Is that the proper word?”
Damn lawyer. You know all the proper words as well as I do. “This place is flexible when it comes to jurisdiction.”
“Then let’s say I have a better chance of looking around and surviving than you do,” Ilya said.
Grimshaw hesitated. If the leader of the Sanguinati around Lake Silence said better chance, that was reason enough to be cautious. “Do you know what that was?” he asked quietly. “Why the Crows freaked out like that?”
“No,” Ilya replied. “I’ll look around; then we’ll both go inside and talk to Victoria. The Crowgard are more likely to tell her what frightened them than tell either of us.”
Ilya shifted to his smoke form—another sign that the vampire felt cautious about whatever else might be out there—and headed away from the access road. Headed in the direction where, a few months ago, a corrupt detective had been grabbed by an angry Elder and twisted in a way that still gave the cops and the local medical examiner nightmares.