Love Your Entity (28 page)

His mocking reference to Sierra’s book infuriated and scared her. Both emotions kept her from speaking up.

“How will we know if we find the right key?” Ronan demanded.

“She’ll know.” Voz pointed to Sierra. “When she sees it, she’ll know. You’ve got two hours left.” With those words, he disappeared as fast he’d appeared.

“Right,” she muttered. “I’ll know it when I see it? Like that’s a lot of help. No pressure there.”

“We might as well see what’s in this box,” Ronan said. “Maybe opening it will make Hal disappear.”

Sierra handed him the key.

A horrible howl from upstairs made her blood chill.

“Quick, before he breaks more furniture,” she said.

“This better not be empty like his damn coffin,” Ronan said.

It wasn’t.

“Are those…?” she whispered.

“Diamonds?” Ronan said. “They sure look like they are.”

“Maybe they’re fake.”

“Sierra!” Ruby screamed.

“I have to make sure she’s okay,” Sierra said.

“Stay close to me,” he said.

They reached the top of the stairs in time for Sierra to see Hal, his face contorted with fury. “What’s going on?” he yelled.

Dark spirits came spilling out of the wall, grabbed him, and hauled him away. It was over very fast.

“That was freaky,” Sierra said. “I am definitely getting new wallpaper.” Had those dark spirits been living in her wall all the time? She sure hoped not. She decided they must have merely used the wall as a portal. Still, who wanted a portal to hell in their front foyer?

“What about me?” Ruby peered around the doorway from the living room. “Are those dark things going to come for me too?” Ruby’s voice trembled.

“No,” Sierra reassured her. “You didn’t murder anyone. Did you?”

“I wanted to.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Then where is the white light for me?” Ruby looked around. “I’m not seeing it anywhere. That can’t be a good sign. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” Sierra admitted. “This is all new territory for me. I’ll get back to you.”

“Where are you going?” Ruby demanded.

“To find a solution.”

Sierra had to admit that despite the freaky occurrence she’d just witnessed with those dark spirits hauling Hal’s ass to hell, her mind felt clearer without his presence in the house.

Twenty minutes ticked by. She felt every second of every one of them to the depths of her soul. They had to figure this out. The fates couldn’t be so cruel as to take Ronan from her now that she’d fallen in love with him.

The thing was that Sierra already knew Fate could be a bitch.

Some people believed bad things happened for a reason. Sierra had a hard time buying into that philosophy. She’d always leaned more toward the Shit Happens school of thought.

But that was before she met Ronan. Before she knew about witches and vampires.

She’d always known there was an afterlife, which was more than many did. But that knowledge wasn’t helping her figure out this freaking map.

She didn’t even realize that Ronan had disappeared for a second until he handed her the carton of chocolate chocolate-chip ice cream from her freezer upstairs. He even brought a spoon. How could you not love a guy like that?

She wished she had time to savor her emotions for Ronan but she didn’t. So she instead ate what was left of the carton of ice cream while studying the map. With her last bite, it suddenly hit her. “This looks like a maze and it isn’t all in this house. This is just a small part of the picture. I think I know where we are supposed to go. There,” Sierra said. She pointed to the spot where Tanya had appeared.

“That leads to the Vamptown tunnels,” Ronan said. “I checked them out very carefully my first week here.”

“Maybe, but keep in mind that I can see things you don’t,” she said. “Like ghosts.”

Ronan shoved one of the cement blocks and the pocket door slid open.

The tunnel had a lightbulb every ten feet or so. The instant she stepped inside, she felt something. Focusing on the wall to her right, she saw images appear and then fade.

They reminded her of the Russian lacquer box she’d incorporated into her first book, only larger. She saw what looked like a prince and princess. From her earlier research she knew that these types of images were often based on a variety of folk and fairy tales. The one she had used was based on a village courtship story. This one was different though.

Sierra placed her hand on the princess and the mural became clearer.

“Can you see this?” she asked Ronan.

“No. What are you looking at?”

“An incredible mural painted on the wall in the tradition of Russian lacquer boxes, only much larger. The background is black and the colors of the illustration are really vibrant. Judging from the fine lines of gold leaf used throughout, I’d say this was done by someone from the village of Palekh. They specialized in icon paintings there for centuries. Right up until the Russian Revolution, in fact. I researched this stuff when I was writing my first book.”

“Is it a map?”

“No, it’s got a prince and princess. In front of a castle.” There was so much to look at that it was hard to choose where to focus. Then she saw them. “The shoes!”

“What? Is it Cinderella or something?”

“No. The shoes are the same ones that Ruby is wearing. That can’t just be a coincidence. They are pretty unique shoes.”

“Like Dorothy’s in
The Wizard of Oz
? Voz had a large collection of classic movies in his castle.”

“They’re not red but they are kind of sparkly,” she said.

“Could the castle belong to Voz?”

“I don’t know what his castle looks like.”

“It’s got turrets.”

“Not a lot of help,” she said.

“It might be another of his properties. He has them all over Eastern Europe.”

“And Russia?”

“Probably,” Ronan said.

“The shoes are the link. We have to go talk to Ruby.”

The ghost was waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Less than two hours until midnight, people,” she said frantically.

“I know,” Sierra said. “And I think I know why you’re still here. It’s your shoes.”

Ruby looked down. “What’s wrong with them?”

Instead of answering, Sierra posed a question of her own. “Where did you get them?”

“From another girl who worked here. Her name was Natasha. She called them her happy shoes because the sparkle cheered her up.”

“Was she Russian?” Sierra asked.

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, so what?”

“Where are your shoes now?”

“On my feet. Are you losing it?” Ruby said. “You can’t go off on me now.”

“I’m not,” Sierra assured her. “I mean the actual shoes, not your ghost shoes. Were you buried in them?”

“No. I was buried in an ugly dress and shoes that did not match. This is what I was wearing when Hal murdered me.”

“Where did he murder you?”

“In this house.”

“I mean specifically. Which part of the house? The passageway? The tunnels? Is that why you didn’t want to go there?”

“The attic,” Ruby whispered.

“The attic?” Sierra repeated. “What attic?”

“There is an attic,” Ronan said. “I looked carefully up there when I first arrived, but again I can’t see what you can, obviously.”

“Why didn’t I know about an attic?” Sierra said.

“It’s this way.” He led her upstairs and into the room he’d claimed as his. There were two doors, which she’d assumed led to closets. Only one did. When he opened the other door she saw a staircase leading up.

“Are you sure Hal is gone for good?” Ruby asked.

“Yes.”

Ronan went up first and checked it out before indicating it was safe for Sierra to come up. A single bulb in the rafters lit the place. Unlike the basement, which hadn’t had much stuff in it when she’d moved in, this space was crammed with things from the past. Or so it seemed to her.

Ronan pointed to a chipped and battered rocking horse in the far corner. “That used to be mine when I was a kid. Adele played on it after me.”

“Ruby, does anything look familiar from your time?”

“I haven’t been up here since I was murdered,” Ruby whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Sierra said. “This must be hard for you. But the faster you help us, the faster you’ll be able to go into the light.”

“Hal paid off the cops,” Ruby said unsteadily. “He said I was holding the knife trying to kill myself when I fell down the steps. It was a lie. I never fell down the stairs. It all took place here in the attic.”

“Where exactly?” Sierra asked.

Ruby pointed to the right.

“Let’s look here,” Sierra told Ronan, who had already gone through several piles with vamp speed.

He removed several chairs and boxes to free a large hinged wicker trunk. When Sierra first opened it, all she saw were rags and yellowed linens. She moved those aside and was about to give up when she saw them. The shoes.

She carefully lifted them out.

“Do ghosts have shadows?” Ronan asked.

“Not usually,” Sierra said.

“Then what is that?”

The darkness took shape. The first things to materialize were the eyes and face. The eyes were totally black and totally creepy, like Voz’s. But these eyes had blood oozing out of them and fanatic hatred in them. The face was scaly and abhorrent.

Sierra felt terror and repugnance. She also felt the overwhelming evil she’d only felt once before, when Gregori had tried to take her. He flashed his fangs and then flicked his long lizardlike tongue at them.

Ronan instantly grabbed Sierra, who still had the shoes in her hand, and transported her down to the safe site in the basement.

“Whatever happens, do not leave here,” he ordered her. Then he was gone …

Chapter Twenty-three

Gregori was waiting for Ronan in the attic.

This was something Ronan knew how to do. He knew how to fight other vampires. He was damn good at it.

Kill or be killed.

Ronan had already started going full vamp when he’d left Sierra seconds ago. His fangs emerged and his eyes darkened and glowed. Adrenaline scored throughout his body as he tensed, prepared for battle.

His opponent was ready for him, lashing out with claws courtesy of his demonic side. Ronan had once asked Damon, who was a vampire Demon Hunter, the secret to fighting demons. His answer? Move fast and exterminate faster.

Not all that different from fighting fellow vampires.

But Gregori was no normal vampire. He was a mutant. That lizard tongue of his snaked out and nearly blinded Ronan.

Shit! Ronan grabbed for the sword he’d spotted in the attic earlier. He’d barely got it in his hands when Gregori grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him to the floor.

Ronan kicked him in the face.

Gregori laughed at him and nearly sank his fangs into Ronan’s leg before Ronan leaped away.

The level of evil in this creature was beyond anything Ronan had ever experienced. Still Ronan battled on, calling on his anger to propel him to a new level of violence. This mutant had tried to take Sierra.

Bellowing his rage, Ronan matched Gregori blow for blow until Ronan’s arms and legs streamed blood. No matter. He’d heal. If he lived.

And the only way he’d live was to sever Gregori’s head. The sword was old and rusty but it would be sufficient to do the job if the blow was delivered properly with full vamp force.

Ronan knew he’d only get one chance. It came when he least expected it. Gregori’s attention strayed for a millisecond. Ronan gripped the sword hilt with both hands and swung with all his might.

The sword sliced through. Hacked through. Whatever. It did the job. Gregori disintegrated into a putrid pile of dust.

A golden key fell and bounced on the wooden planks. It must have come from Gregori’s body.

Ronan lunged, catching it before it slid between the cracks.

Blood pooled in the palm of his hand. At first he thought it was Gregori’s before realizing it was his own. The mutant vampire had slashed Ronan’s sweater and pants. His wounds were already starting to heal but he was still a bloody mess.

He hated Sierra seeing him like this, but there was no time to waste. He returned to the basement with the key clutched in his hand.

She remained calm despite his appearance. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Is this it?” he asked, holding out the key.

“Yes.” Sierra grabbed it.

“So it’s the key for Voz?”

“No, it’s the key for the mural. While you were upstairs I looked at the shoes more carefully,” she explained. “These are removable shoe buckles that were in fashion in those days. They come apart and could be used as brooches or earrings. But this one is different than the others. It’s in the shape of a key.”

“So that’s the key Voz wants?”

“No. This key also plays a role in the mural thing.”

“We’ve got less than thirty minutes left.”

She took the golden key from him along with the sparkly key from the shoe. She inserted the sparkly key into the box on which the princess was standing.

Sierra had to work hard at keeping her hands steady and focusing on unlocking the box in the mural. She couldn’t show Ronan how upset she was to see him so torn up. She felt his wounds as if they were her own. Not literally, but to her soul.

“I’ll heal,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry about me.”

The moment the key touched the wall, the box transformed from a flat illustration to a three-dimensional object.

“I can see it now!” Ronan said.

The sparkly key didn’t fit in the box itself but the golden key did. The box opened to reveal a pile of gems—not just diamonds but rubies and emeralds as well. There were also several pieces of gold and gemstone jewelry.

Sierra gave the box to Ronan and removed one necklace in particular. It featured an amethyst-and-ruby-encrusted golden key the size of Sierra’s hand.

“This is what Voz wants,” she said.

“A necklace?” Ronan said.

“A necklace I gave Catherine the Great during a moment of weakness,” Voz said, appearing out of nowhere.

“Did you know it was here hidden in the mural?” Sierra said.