Dark Magic (18 page)

“I thought that was next week.”

“Nope. It’s tonight. Hope you’re ready for them.”

Peter sank into his seat. His fan club consisted of six hundred starry-eyed teenage girls who’d created a Web site where they posted their favorite stories about his shows. Dealing with them was almost as scary as the prospect of the assassin on the hunt for him.

“Any sign of Wolfe?” he asked.

“He hasn’t shown his ugly face,” Zack replied. “I tripled security inside the theater, and we’re giving everyone a pat down before they come in.”

“Is that causing any problems?”

“Yes. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Stay on your toes. Something tells me he’s nearby, hiding under a rock.”

“I’m all over it like a cheap suit,” Zack said.

“I know you are. See you soon.”

Five minutes later, the cab pulled up to the theater. A line of New Jersey tour buses hugged the curb. As Peter and Liza got out, a squealing teenager slipped out from beneath the canopy in front of the theater, and shoved a giant greeting card into Peter’s hands that had been signed by every member of his fan club.

“We love you, Peter,” she said breathlessly.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Sophia. I’m the president of your fan club. Your tricks are so cool.”

Sophia had braces and looked no more than fifteen. She had braved the elements to meet him, and deserved a reward.

“Would you like to see a trick, Sophia?” he asked.

“Would I! That would be totally awesome.”

What kind of trick would she like to see? Something with lots of color and flash, he determined. Cuffing his sleeves, he plucked a blue scarf out of the air, and made it magically tie itself in knots while held at arm’s length in front of his chest. Rolling the scarf into a ball, he tossed it into the air, where it turned into confetti that scattered harmlessly at her feet.

“You’re amazing! Wait until I tell my friends!”

Squealing with delight, the teenager hurried inside. Peter remained on the sidewalk with Liza. The coldness in his bones had not gone away, nor had the feeling that danger was lurking nearby. He looked up and down the quiet block. Wolfe was preparing to strike. But where?

“You’re shaking,” Liza said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Let’s go through the back entrance. Don’t want your fans to see you like this.”

They walked around the theater to the rear entrance. At the back door Liza stopped, put her arms around his waist, and brought her face up so their noses were nearly touching.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” she whispered.

“Something’s happening to me,” he whispered back.

“What do you mean? You have to open up.”

“I’m changing. My powers were never like this. I didn’t anticipate things, or feel strange premonitions coming on. It seems like my powers are out of control.”

“I’ve known you for two years. You’ve never acted like this before.”

“I’ve never felt this way before,” he admitted. “It started when Wolfe attacked me on stage the other night.”

“
What
started? Come on. Be more specific.”

How could he explain the strange metamorphosis taking place inside him? It took a moment before the right words came out. “I used to be a bystander. I would do séances, and see things in the future, and try to figure out what they meant. The mind reading was the same way. I’d read people’s thoughts, and try to make sense of them. I’m not a bystander anymore.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m part of it.”

Liza didn’t understand. Her frightened eyes pleaded with him to explain.

“The spirit world is like a river with an unbelievably strong current,” he said. “It’s always moving, and never slows down. Before, I was standing on the side of the river, watching things flow past.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’ve been pushed into the river against my will, and I’m being pulled along by the current, heading downstream to some strange place that I’ve never been to before.”

“Is it scary?”

“It’s scary as hell,” he said.

“Do you think it’s permanent?”

“I wish I knew.”

His cell phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was Snoop.

“Hey, you lovebirds, we’ve got a show to do,” his assistant said.

Peter looked into the eye of the surveillance camera perched over the back door. “Are you spying on us?”

“How do you think I got the name Snoop?”

“We’ll be right in.”

He folded his phone and put it away. Liza did not let him go.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” she said.

He had made it a point to never read Liza’s mind. It was not fair to their relationship, or to her. But now he cheated, and took a tiny peek at her thoughts. What he saw made the cold leave his bones and his heart race. Liza loved him with all her heart, and all her soul. If he was going to survive this, it would be with her by his side.

They kissed, and headed inside.

*   *   *

The curtains rose to a theater filled with squealing teenage girls. For the next forty-five minutes, Peter put everything he had into making his young fans happy. It wasn’t easy. He could not rid himself of the haunting feeling that Wolfe might strike at any moment. The first half ended to a long ovation, and he stood in the wings as the stage was prepared for the next portion of the show. Zack spoke to him through his earpiece.

“No sign of Wolfe.”

“Did you check outside the theater?” Peter asked.

“Sure did. The security company I hired has two guys patrolling the street. They radio in every few minutes. Everything’s quiet.”

“Tell them to be on the lookout.”

“Peter, he’s not here. Trust me.”

“I can feel him in my bones, Zack. He’s out there, waiting for me.”

“If Wolfe enters the building, he’s mine. I’ve got a score to settle with that guy.”

Zack was ticked off. Peter had never questioned his head of security before, and realized how strange it sounded. “Sorry, Zack. Guess I’m just being paranoid. Thanks for checking in.”

“Talk at you later,” Zack said.

The second half began with Peter standing on the empty stage, ready to take requests from the audience. It was the most difficult part of the show, for he never knew which routines his audience might ask him to perform. The house lights were raised, letting him get a clear look at the sea of eager young faces. A dozen hands shot into the air.

“I see that we’re all ready,” he said with a laugh. “The pair of twins sitting in the second row, please stand up, and tell us your names.”

A pair of identical twins rose in their seats. Both had pigtails and faces filled with freckles. In a squeaky voice, one of them said, “Hi. My name is Lorna, and this is my sister Lauren. We’ve been to your show ten times.”

“Ten times? Then I bet you know how every trick is done,” Peter said.

“I wish!” Lorna replied.

“What would you like me to do, Lorna and Lauren?”

“Read our futures.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

“That’s quite an unusual request. I’ve never read two people’s minds at the same time. Let’s give it a try. I want you to hold hands, and concentrate. Are you ready?”

The twins clasped hands and squinched up their faces. Reading the minds of children was easy compared to adults, children having experienced so little in their lives. Peter looked into their minds and saw two futures filled with hope and promise.

“You both wish to become fashion designers and create your own line of clothes, although one of you also would like to be an actress on Broadway,” he began. “I’d tell you which one, only you look too much alike for me to be sure. You have an aunt who lives in the south of France who would like you to come visit this summer. One of you wants to go, the other doesn’t. I see you both going, and having a wonderful time. How am I doing so far?”

“Incredible,” Lorna said.

“Awesome,” her twin chorused.

Peter wished he had a dollar for every time a teenager told him his magic was awesome. As he started to continue, he noticed that the twins looked different. Their faces had changed, and were now bruised and bloodied, while their cute pigtails had grown into full heads of hair. He swallowed hard. They had turned into Milly and Holly.

It was a sign from the other side. But what did it mean?

Then, he noticed their eyes. Lifeless.

They were both dead. Something dropped in the pit of his stomach. Wolfe was about to kill his friends. He had to get off the stage.

“That’s all I’m seeing. Thank you very much,” he said.

“Tell us more,” the twin that looked like Milly begged.

He couldn’t concentrate, and shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Please!” they chorused.

“Come on, everyone. Let’s give them a big round of applause,” he said.

The audience started to clap. The applause had a strangely hollow sound. To his horror, he realized that every member of his fan club had also changed. Rows of dead Millys and dead Hollys confronted him, their clapping motions stiff and awkward.

“What’s wrong?” Liza asked through his earpiece.

“The spirits are communicating to me,” he whispered into the mike in his shirt collar. “I’ve got to get off the stage.”

“But this is your fan club. You can’t let them down.”

He wasn’t thinking straight, and couldn’t have continued if his very life depended on it.

“I can’t.”

“
Peter.
These are teenage girls. They’ll be crushed.”

“I’m freaking.”

“Do it anyway. Finish the routine, damn it.”

He gave it his best, and stepped to the foot of the stage. “Who’d like to be next?”

“Take me!” A young man wearing a ridiculous fake moustache stood in the aisle in the very back of the theater. Snoop to the rescue. When tricks in the show broke bad, his assistant had been trained to jump in, and salvage the routine. It was an old ploy developed by Houdini, and had stood the test of time.

“Your name,” Peter said.

“Jerry Smith, and I want my future read,” Snoop said.

“Very well, Jerry. Please concentrate. I see a shiny race car. Is it yours?”

“Why, that’s amazing. Yes, it is.”

“Formula One?”

“Yes—how did you know that?”

“You don’t look like a NASCAR kind of guy. You race cars for a living, which is something you’ve wanted to do since you were a little boy. You’re visiting New York with your family, celebrating a race you just won. In a few days you’ll fly off to Europe, where you plan to race in all the major events.”

“That’s impossible. How did you know
that
?”

It was crude to use Snoop as a plant like this, but Peter had no other choice. The sea of dead faces stared at him with morbid fascination.

“I see a long future for you in car-racing. One day, you may own your own team. I’d tell you good luck, but I don’t think you’re going to need it.”

The hollow clapping began. Peter signaled that he wanted the stage lights turned off. Hurrying into the wings, he spent a moment composing himself. Then, he pulled out his cell phone. Holly’s number was the first he called, Milly’s the next. He left messages on voice mail, telling them their lives were in danger.

“What are you doing?” Liza appeared beside him.

“Wolfe is going to attack my friends, Milly and Holly.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just had a vision. I have to warn them. Please go out there, and make up some story that I’ve fallen ill, and that the show is cancelled.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Peter took his girlfriend by the shoulders. “The face of every girl in the audience turned into Milly and Holly. They were both dead. He’d killed them.”

“No, they didn’t. It’s just a bunch of giggling teenagers.”

“I saw it. You have to believe me.”

“Do you know where your friends are?”

“No. I need to go find them.”

“You’re leaving right now?”

“Yes.”

“Peter, this is insane. Call the police. They can protect them better than you can.”

The police hadn’t protected his parents, or Madame Marie and her husband, and Peter knew they wouldn’t be able to save Milly and Holly. When it came to dealing with the spirit world, the police were always one step behind.

“Offer everybody a rain check,” he said.

Liza stepped back. The look in her eyes bordered on pure disdain.

“Please don’t do this.”

“I have to go. If that doesn’t work, give them a full refund.”

“Whatever you say, Peter.” And then she was gone.

25

Wolfe waited until dark to hunt Millicent Adams.

According to the information he’d found on the Internet, she was considered
the
psychic in New York, and counted many of the city’s rich and famous as her clients. She worked out of a luxurious apartment building called the Dakota on the Upper West Side across from Central Park. Finding her would not be difficult, even in a city as big as this one.

Still wearing his elaborate disguise, he left the Hotel Carter at nine o’clock, and walked to the busy Times Square subway station at 42nd Street. Soon he was packed in a subway car with a mob of people hooked into iPhones or reading a newspaper.

Just north of 59th Street, the car hit a bump in the track, and the lights went out. The smell of fear emanated from his fellow passengers like cheap perfume. The day his hearing had changed, so had his other senses, and his sense of smell was better than a dog’s. Human beings threw off a variety of smells depending upon the mood they were in, and Wolfe knew what each smell meant. It had saved his life many times.

He exited at the 81st Street station. At the top of the stairs was a man hawking the
New York Post
. He bought a copy. Splashed across the front page was his picture with the words
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?
Everyone in the bloody city was looking for him.