I sat down across from Morgan, keeping some space between us, and keeping the moist earth ready in my hand, just in case. I was 99 percent sure I had it right, but that 1 percent is what usually kills you.
“You should have left town,” I said. “It’s not too late. If you don’t want to go to your parents’ house, find a motel somewhere, anywhere, just so long as it’s away from here. I’ll have this taken care of in a day or two.” I hoped. “And answer your cell if I call-I’ll let you know when it’s over.” She nodded, resigned.
“Okay.”
Lou ran up to her, put his paws on her knee, and wagged his tail in an exaggerated manner. It was his way of reassuring her, and it worked. He can be a thoughtful guy. She didn’t smile, but the muscles around her eyes relaxed. I got up and walked to the door.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “It will all be over soon.” It wasn’t until I’d left that I realized that statement could be taken more than one way.
TWENTY- ONE
I THOUGHT THE SUPPOSED WENDIGO MIGHT BE waiting for me by my van, but no. At least that gave me breathing space. There was some more information I wanted to get before tackling him, and I knew just where to get it.
Twenty minutes later I was back at Ramsey’s apartment. The little creep had suckered us. He’d even made me feel a little sorry for him. But the one thing that had put me on Morgan’s trail, the thing that was too weird for coincidence and made me so quick to accept what the Wendigo said, was that little story of his about Ruby and sex and the odd trill. Why wouldn’t I have believed it? How else could he have come up with such a thing unless it was true? Unless he’d heard Morgan that night she spent at my house. Like if he’d been crouched outside my bedroom window, leaving only traces in the dirt to mark where he’d been.
He hadn’t just been in league with just the Ruby shape-shifter-he was in tight with the other shape-shifter as well. So, time for a visit.
I strolled around back of the Victorian to his door and politely knocked. No answer, but when I knocked again, louder, I heard movement from inside. Ramsey answered the door, bleary-eyed from sleep. Either he’d been up all night the night before or he routinely slept into the late afternoon every chance he got, or both.
“Mason,” he said. His tone was wary, but not fearful. Not yet.
“Ramsey. Invite me in, why don’t you?” He didn’t want to, but he was afraid not to.
“Sure,” he said, stepping aside. “Come on in.” Lou slipped in ahead and Ramsey peered around me, trying to see if I was alone.
“Victor’s not with me this time,” I said.
“Thank God for small favors,” he muttered, then looked nervously over at me as if he might have gone too far. I stared him down until he started getting ill at ease.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he said, false hearty, trying to make a joke out of it. He wasn’t very good at that sort of thing. I ignored him and walked the few steps it took to reach the kitchen area. I glanced down and saw that same piece of bacon from our last visit still curled up on a corner of the floor.
Ramsey had edged back and now was standing between me and the door, as if guarding against my retreat. Alarm bells went off. He should have wanted me out of his apartment, not in it. Which meant, quite possibly, that he wasn’t alone. Lou’s warning growl almost covered up the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. When I looked up I saw who it was.
For a moment I stood paralyzed. It was one of those situations so unexpected, so wrong, that your entire world turns upside down. The universe suddenly makes no sense. It couldn’t be. The room hummed as blood rushed into my head. Gliding down the stairs, smiling sweetly and relishing my surprise, was Morgan. Or maybe it was the smile of a gourmet about to embark on a particularly tasty meal. I almost let her get right up next to me, stunned as I was. Which was the point of her little deception, and it almost worked.
The hackles on Lou’s back raised up, and the sight of that cleared my head. How stupid of me. This time it wasn’t Morgan at all. This time it was a shape-shifter, clothing herself in Morgan’s persona. Maybe Ramsey hadn’t been exactly sleeping after all. She reached toward me, but I had a surprise for her as well. I reached into my pocket and balled up the change-inhibiting ball of earth I carried. Matching her smile, I walked right up to her, and for a moment she hesitated, unsure of herself. Then I flung my hand out, quick as a snake. She jerked her head back, but not in time. The glob of dirt plastered itself over her neck and shoulder, dripping down and staining her tee shirt. She couldn’t transform herself now until she cleaned it all off, and that would take her a while.
It was still two against one, but Ramsey hardly counted and the Morgan persona had no real strength or defense. And I wasn’t just one, anyway-I had Lou. He’s too small to have much use in a physical fight, but he has strong jaws and sharp teeth, and could keep someone like Ramsey at bay until I had time to deal with him. My talent could easily overcome Ramsey, and although the Morgan shape-shifter wouldn’t be affected much by it, I had one more thing as well. I had my knife.
I took it out and snapped open the blade. Morgan had spread her fingers wide and seemed to be straining. Her smile faded as she realized nothing was happening, and an expression of frustration appeared on her face. Then the beginning of panic. I allowed myself a moment of sweet satisfaction.
Lou spun around and gave two quick warning barks. Ramsey was up to something. I’d dismissed him as a threat, but that’s never a good idea, no matter who it is. He was on home turf, and desperate, and anyone can be dangerous if you give them the chance.
I turned quickly, leaving the fake Morgan on her own for the moment. Ramsey hadn’t moved from the door, but he wasn’t quite Ramsey anymore. His face had narrowed considerably, his hands had sprouted fresh new claws, and he’d grown a bit in height.
The Wendigo had originally warned me that they traveled in pairs. Always. I’d neglected to ask what happened if one of them died. Since we hadn’t been able to close the energy pool, an open conduit remained between their world and ours, and apparently a bench player had been brought in to help out. Maybe these shape-shifters had a psychic connection between each other, or maybe the Morgan imitator had just been thoroughly briefed. Either way, there were now two of them to deal with and I was in trouble.
My knife, which a moment before had seemed a weapon of deadly purpose, now seemed weak and ineffective. A four-inch blade is a dangerous thing. It can slice through flesh and sever arteries. If you’re strong, you can even plunge it straight into a heart, even if you don’t know what you’re doing. I’d never before used a knife for anything more violent that cutting rope or slicing salami, and against a tiger or a bear or a brain-eating shape-shifter it seemed a very long shot indeed. But a long shot is better than no shot at all, and at the moment of truth you either do what you must or you die. It doesn’t get any simpler than that.
Lou poked his nose into the back of my knee once, then again, sharper. That’s his signal for when he’s about to do something he thinks is clever. Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn’t. I hoped this was one of his cleverer thoughts.
He charged the shape-shifter, snarling in his most ferocious manner, but before he reached it he uttered a strangled yelp, stiffened, and keeled over. Immediately he started twitching, then jerking, then howling with a tone that set my teeth on edge. His legs flailed around and shook with tremors, foam came out of his mouth, and he snapped his jaws over and over, so strongly I thought he was going to break some teeth. He was in the midst of a typical grand mal seizure.
It was impossible to ignore. I had a hard time looking away, and I knew it was all an act. The shape-shifter was momentarily transfixed-it was something totally unexpected, outside its experience. Its head was turned away from me, and for just an instant it forgot I was even there.