Read Give the Devil His Due (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Three) Online
Authors: Rob Blackwell
Tags: #The Sanheim Chronicles: Book Three, #Sleepy Hollow, #Headless Horseman, #Samhain, #Sanheim, #urban fantasy series, #supernatural thriller
“What did you do?” Janus asked him.
Quinn smiled enigmatically at him. Both Quinn and Kate looked as if they knew a secret they couldn’t share with anyone else.
“Come on,” Quinn said. “Let’s go find the others.”
Kate and Quinn walked up the hill beyond. Janus and Summer followed.
The castle had vanished, but they still stood on a high hill overlooking what had once been a bloody battlefield. Only Elyssa, Carol, Buzz and Parker were near the top, the giant spider looking out of place. As Quinn and Kate neared them, Janus saw all four bow deeply.
Quinn and Kate nodded solemnly in return and walked to the very edge of the hill, where the thousands of souls who had fought on one side or the other could clearly see them. Most stopped staring around at the new landscape and looked up at the two arrivals. As if by an invisible signal, the men, women and creatures knelt one knee in the grass, even those who had fought on the other side. The stillness was a stark contrast from just a short time before. No words were spoken, but the message was clear.
“What the hell just happened?” Summer asked Janus. “Are they in charge now?”
Janus nodded his head.
“I think so,” he said.
“I hope they don’t expect me to kneel, because that so isn’t happening,” Summer said.
Janus brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her. He felt a mixture of pure exhaustion and relief. He walked up beside Quinn and tried to take a mental picture of the scene in front of him.
As he gazed around, he realized why everything felt so familiar and yet unique. He recognized that what he was looking at was a combination of two different places. On one hand, the landscape evoked Washington Irving’s famous descriptions of the Hudson River Valley near a small village named Tarrytown and a place called Sleepy Hollow as it had looked some two centuries ago. But it also reminded Janus distinctly of Loudoun County, where he and Quinn had grown up, before it was overrun by development.
On the field below them, the soldiers, creatures and people rose and began cheering loudly. Kate had promised them heaven, and she and Quinn had delivered.
Janus looked out at the open sky where a bright sun was shining.
“I like what you’ve done with the place, mate,” Janus said, and clapped Quinn on the back. “But what should we call it? I’m pretty sure ‘hell’ doesn’t work anymore.”
Quinn smiled at him.
“I’ve got the perfect name picked out,” he replied. “Welcome to Loudoun Hollow.”
Epilogue
One Year Later
Oct. 31, 2009
Tim Anderson put his head on his desk and resisted the urge to pound it against the wood. Sometimes his job could be so frustrating that he didn’t know why he bothered. He was tired and emotionally drained, but that’s what happened when he became invested in a story. He wished he could let this one go.
He lifted his head again and pressed the phone back to his ear.
“Did they at least recognize the irony of waiting until now to vote this way?” Tim continued his conversation. “And so late? It’s Halloween on Saturday for God’s sake. Don’t these people have kids – or parties?”
“There were a few jokes about it,” Helen said on the other end. “But they needed to have a thorough debate, Tim. It just took time to sort everything out. And now there’s next year.”
Tim rolled his eyes, knowing she couldn’t see it. At times it was hard to accept Helen’s patronizing tone. She was a good reporter, but she drove him nuts.
“Well, at least they finally made a decision,” Tim replied. “I was starting to worry they’d put it off again.”
“I don’t understand why you’re not happy,” Helen said. “You won, didn’t you? Halloween is no longer banned in Loudoun County. You’ve been advocating for this for months. You’ll be happy to know that the chairman mentioned your editorials as helping to sway several board members. Your comments about putting the past behind us were very influential, he said.”
“It’s about damn time,” Tim said.
He didn’t know why he wasn’t happier. Maybe it was just because it took so much effort. Or maybe because the reason he had pursued this with such vigor was because of other issues, a very different story to which he still didn’t know the ending.
“Do I have to file the story tonight?” Helen asked. “I know it’s important, but… is anyone going to be reading this late on Halloween?”
Tim sighed. Of course he wanted the story now. But who was he to deny someone Halloween, when he had fought so hard to defend it in the first place?
“No,” he said. “Tomorrow morning will be fine.”
“Thank you,” Helen said. “We can play it big tomorrow. Listen, I’m going to go. There’s a party that a bunch of us are trying to get to. Do you want to come?”
Tim nearly burst out laughing. Spending an evening with a bunch of drunk county employees and the board of supervisors was his idea of hell. But Helen meant well and he was touched by the gesture.
“No, but thank you,” Tim said. “Have a good time.”
“Happy Halloween, Tim,” Helen said, and she hung up the phone.
Tim put the phone down and struggled with his emotions. He had won, so why was he still upset? It was too late for this year, but it would be different next year. At least he’d gotten through. He might even pick up a Virginia Press Association award for his efforts.
But instead of feeling victorious, he just felt old and uncertain. It had been more than a year since Kate disappeared — and he had heard nothing about her fate. All month he had hoped for some sign of what happened last year, but there was nothing.
He looked at his watch. With only two hours left, he was unlikely to get a signal now. He looked out at the empty office. The rest of the staff had gone home hours ago. Even the receptionist Gerri, who was loathe to leave Tim here alone on any night, much less Halloween, had finally given up and headed out.
Tim pushed back from his desk and stood up. He shuffled a few papers around and turned to leave.
Suddenly, the lights went out. He stood in the dark, fighting panic. A thousand memories flooded his mind.
It’s Kyle,
he thought.
He’s finally come back for me.
But that was impossible. Kyle was dead and he knew it. It crossed his mind that it was someone who bore him a grudge for supporting Kate and Quinn.
When the lights came back on, Tim let out an involuntary cry. On his desk was an intricately carved pumpkin, a single candle lighting it up. With a start, he realized it was masterfully carved to look like his face. It seemed to capture the very essence of him.
He looked out at the other desks in the office and noticed that all of them now had pumpkins on them, each one carved to look like the reporter who sat there.
“What the hell?” Tim said.
“It’s our little gift,” a voice said, and Tim stifled another urge to scream.
A man sat in the chair in front of Tim’s desk. He was dressed in a crisp, black suit, as if he had just come from a formal event. His face was obscured by shadow.
“Sanheim,” Tim said. He had never met him, but he recognized the description. The man stood so that Tim could see him better.
“Not quite,” he said.
He looked so much older and more poised, Tim almost didn’t recognize him. But the smile in his eyes was unforgettable.
“Quinn!” he said.
He reached over and clasped Quinn’s hand with both of his. He seemed subtly different — wiser and more formal.
“Is it really you?” Tim asked, remembering how Kate had taken his form.
“I’m the real deal,” Quinn said and smiled, seeming more like his old self.
“Are you okay?” Tim asked. “Tell me everything.”
Instead, he lifted a small book he had been carrying and laid it on the desk.
“You can read all about it,” he said. “You had said you wanted to know how it all ended. My wife and I wanted to make sure we delivered on that request.”
“Your wife?” Tim asked.
Quinn gestured to the doorway, and Tim looked up to see a woman dressed in a simple white silk gown. But instead of the hideous and frightening banshee, she looked young and exuberant, her blond hair brushing her shoulders and her bright blue eyes shining. She looked like Kate, but she too seemed different, more ethereal.
“You did it,” Tim said when he saw her. “You actually did it.”
Kate walked around the desk — or maybe floated, Tim wasn’t sure — and threw her arms around Tim. For a moment he worried she would pass right through him, but instead her embrace was warm and tight.
“Thank you so much for your help,” she whispered in his ear.
She drew back from him.
“We’re sorry we couldn’t invite you to the wedding,” she said. “But it was strictly a dead man’s party, to quote a song that Janus wouldn’t shut up about.”
“Wait,” Tim asked. “Are you dead?”
Quinn shook his head.
“No,” he said. “This isn’t a job you can have if you’re dead. I needed help resurrecting, but we did it. You were right to tell Kate to follow Kieran’s plan. I wanted to tell you that. He made it all possible.”
“What ‘job’ are you talking about?” Tim asked.
“It’s a bit complex,” Quinn said. “You can read more about it in the book.”
Tim looked at the two of them together and finally put his finger on how they seemed different. For one, they seemed so much more regal.
“Are you the king and queen of hell?” he asked incredulously.
Quinn chuckled.
“I guess you could put it that way,” he said. “But it’s not very hellish. There’s even a newspaper there now. It is unfailingly devoted toward criticizing everything that Kate and I do, but I think that would amuse you. You’ll never guess who the editor is.”
“Summer Mandaville,” Tim said without hesitation.
“I told you he’d know right away,” Kate laughed.
“Let me guess: Janus is the photographer,” Tim said, smiling.
But Kate and Quinn looked at each other for a moment.
“No,” Kate said. “He actually has a much more important job.”
“Is something wrong?” Tim asked, noticing their exchange.
“No, he’s fine,” Quinn said. “But it’s not exactly a fairytale ending. We still have enemies that we don’t know much about. He’s helping us with that in a unique way.”
“That’s one reason we’re here,” Kate said. “He may need your help from time to time. I know you never worked with him, but…”
“Are you kidding?” Tim said. “Bill and Josh don’t shut up about him. They keep a framed photograph of him in their office. It would be a pleasure to work with him.”
“Good,” Quinn said. “That’s what we hoped.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or is this the kind of thing that if I know too much it could get me in trouble?”
Kate nodded.
“Definitely the latter,” she said. “And we don’t exactly know ourselves. We’re still trying to figure it out. But we know we need someone in this world we can trust.”
“I’m always here for you two,” Tim said. “But you knew that already.”
Kate looked like she was ready to hug him again.
“We also wanted to thank you for your work with the Loudoun board,” Quinn said. “It means a lot to us that Halloween has been restored here.”
“I wasn’t sure how much you still cared for the holiday, given your history with it,” Tim said.
“We owe everything we are to it,” Kate replied.
Tim raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question it.
“That’s why we want to give back to Loudoun in some way,” Quinn said. “We want to protect it. We can’t do much throughout the year, but at least in October we can help keep it safe. The memory of all the evil things that happened here will fade away.”
“How can you promise that?” Tim asked. “Kieran told me there were rules.”
“The old rules don’t apply to us,” Kate said. “Most of them, anyway.”
“That’s quite a gift,” Tim said. “How are you going to manage it?”
He looked at Kate dubiously and she flashed him a radiant smile.
“Without killing anyone, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “I’ve given up the life of a vigilante.”
“Good,” Tim said.
“Well, we’d better go,” Quinn said. “We’re missing our own party. If you ever need anything, just ask.”
“How do I contact you?”
“Go to my grave,” Quinn said, and Tim shuddered.
“Thank you again,” Kate said. “For everything.”
Before he could respond, the lights went off again. When they came on, Quinn and Kate were gone. Only the pumpkins remained, proof that he hadn’t been dreaming. He wondered how he would explain it to the staff on Monday, then decided he wouldn’t worry about it now.
He should go home, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt renewed, and anxious to find out what happened. He picked up the book Quinn had laid on his desk and flipped it open. Once he started reading, he couldn’t stop. Hours passed and Halloween ended, but Tim Anderson remained at his desk, reading.