“What I don’t get is this,” Ben continued. “If you could sense, or feel-or whatever the hell you do-all that bad ju-ju comin’ off just the house and stuff, then why couldn’t Ariel Tanner and the rest of her group pick it up from him? I mean he was right there in the flesh and all? Shouldn’t they have noticed somethin’?”
I wasn’t surprised by the question, and I was glad that he had waited until we were alone before he asked it. Knowing him as I did, that shouldn’t have surprised me either.
“Theoretically, yes.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if I’m right, there are a couple of reasons why they might not have picked up anything from him,” I paused.
“Whaddaya want, a signed invitation? Spit it out.”
“Number one is the Expiation spell,” I continued, finally opening my eyes and sitting up a little straighter as he merged us onto the highway. “My guess is that he feels pretty good about himself once he’s absolved himself of the guilt. That would make him give off some positive vibes, so to speak. The positive energies would tend to cancel out the negative ones. You know, yin and yang, the great cosmic balance and all that.”
“Yeah, okay.” He nodded his head thoughtfully. “I can see that. Basically, it just tells me he’s a crazy fuck, and what he did to these women just doesn’t matter to ‘im.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“But why can you pick it up now?”
“He’s escalating,” I offered. “He’s cycling through the absolution and anger quicker as the time for the sacrifice draws nearer.”
“Have you figured out why he’s doin’ this yet?”
“No, unfortunately. I’m not sure that he even knows.”
We continued in silence while Ben digested my answers. Finally, he looked over at me and spoke, “So what’s number two?”
I was already regretting that I had told him there was more than one reason. The second was the one that I was still wrestling with myself. Still, I had already opened my mouth, so there was no turning back. Whether I had come to grips with it or not, I needed to tell Ben.
“Number two,” I said with a tired sigh, “is that he was probably able to mask over his energies because he’s a lot better than I expected him to be.”
“Whaddaya mean ‘better than ya’ expected ‘im ta’ be’?” he appealed. “Ya mean like better at the hocus-pocus stuff?”
“Yeah. The ‘hocus-pocus’ stuff.” I didn’t feel up to arguing over his choice of terminology.
“But not better’n you, right?”
I didn’t answer him.
“Aww, Jeez, white man,” he grumbled, “I hate when you clam up like that… Tell me he’s not better than you.”
“I don’t know yet” was all I could say.
CHAPTER 24
Cally’s van was gone from my driveway, and the lights were out when Ben dropped me off. I had called Felicity from his cell phone shortly after the evidence technicians arrived on the scene and let her know that I was still in one piece. While that fact had been a relief to her, the news was still clouded by bitter disappointment at our having arrived too late to rescue the little girl and apprehend Roger. Before saying goodbye, I reminded her that there was still time before the full moon and that we weren’t giving up. When I pressed the glowing END button on the face of the phone, I lingered, momentarily lost in thought as I wondered to myself if that small amount of time was going to be enough.
The dogs stirred instantly when I entered the house, doing exactly what they perceived as their canine duty by checking to be sure I wasn’t some unfamiliar intruder. As soon as they had satisfied themselves as to my identity via cold-nosed, doggish snuffling, they both wandered sleepily back to their beds, wagging their tails with lazy contentment.
Two of our three feline residents, Dickens and Salinger, were in the middle of one of their many nocturnal wrestling matches. My intrusion into what they had declared to be their ring served as sufficient enough surprise to bring them instantly apart. Looking for all the world like two furry, mismatched bookends, they absently licked their paws and peered up at me as if to say “What? We weren’t doing anything.”
I kicked off my shoes then made my way softly into the bedroom. My wife was sound asleep, curled in the center of our bed, tightly hugging my pillow. I thought of crawling in as well, but she looked too peaceful, and I feared I would wake her. Besides, even though it was rapidly approaching two in the morning, I wasn’t actually sleepy. I had far too much on my mind to relax at the moment, and my earlier headache still plagued me in the form of a dull throb running down the back of my neck. Gently, I pulled the sheets up over her shoulders then quietly padded back through the house.
The wall clock rang out its familiar double chime in proclamation of the hour as I stretched out on the couch. If I were ever going to relax, I would have to clear away some of the annoying debris that had collected in my mind over the past few days. Of course, after the infusion of adrenalin I had received earlier this evening, my guess was that such a task would be next to impossible, at least for the time being.
Dickens jumped stealthily up to the arm of the couch nearest my head and announced himself with a throaty feline trill before crawling determinedly around me. After a false start or two, he stretched across my chest and proceeded to purr himself to sleep. He remained there undisturbed, even when I slowly stretched and yawned. My eyes seemed to almost itch, and my eyelids felt oddly heavy as I let out a long-winded sigh. As they slowly closed, I reminded myself that I wasn’t sleepy. I wasn’t sleepy at all.
“ Hey, Mister.” A little strawberry-blonde girl, wrapped in a white lace dress, was tugging at me. “Hey, mister, wake up.”
Falling.
Darkness.
Light.
Darkness.
“ Wake up, Mister!” her tiny voice more urgent now. “It’s almost time. We’re going to miss it.”
“ Miss what?” I try to ask.
I can see my words, but I can’t hear them. They visibly leave my mouth in a rush and shoot skyward like helium-filled balloons. I watch them as they disappear into the darkness. When I turn my gaze back downward, the little girl is staring up at me urgently.
“ We have to go now!” she exclaims, pulling on my hand. “Now!”
I’m running.
I can hear my footfalls on thin carpeting. My heart is pounding behind my ribs. My breaths are deep and labored, and the cold air stings my throat and lungs. I don’t know if I’m running from or running to. The little strawberry-blonde girl is nowhere to be seen.
I’m running.
I’m sitting.
“ I told you,” the little girl says to me. “We almost missed it.”
I turn to face her. I don’t know where she came from. I vaguely remember that she was gone, but I don’t know why. I feel that she has been there all along.
“ I have to go soon,” she says and points at a spot far above my head. “My turn is next.”
I look up and see a large round disk, mottled white and grey. The moon. It lacks fullness by only a thin sliver along the edge. I lower my eyes back to her.
The little girl is no longer little. She is a full-grown woman. She is Ariel Tanner, dressed in white lace and surrounded by a dimly glowing aura of milky light. She is kneeling next to me, holding my hand and smiling.
“ She doesn’t understand,” Ariel tells me. “You will have to explain it to her.”
“ Explain what?” I ask. My own words meet my ears as a mirror image of themselves, echoing softly “? tahw nialpxe.”
She places two fingers across my lips to hush me and shakes her head. Her soft hair billows weightlessly, the aura dancing in perfect unison with each individual strand. “You have to stop him, Rowan. It’s all up to you now. Only you can save her.”
She lowers her fingers from my lips and stretches forward then lightly kisses my cheek. As she pulls away, she smiles shyly at me.
Her eyes widen with surprise, and the shy smile drains away. Her lips form a mute frown as a glossy patch of vermilion appears on her bosom, spreading like oil across the white lace.