Romancing The Dead (13 page)

“This is me,” I said.

He gave me that wicked grin and asked, “Are you going to invite me up?”

It wasn’t that the offer wouldn’t have been tempting under other circumstances, but with Sebastian missing and possibly in danger, not to mention the fact that I didn’t know the first thing about this guy or where he came from . . . “Sorry,” I said. “Not this time.”

“Does that mean I get another chance?”

I shook my head. “I have to find Sebastian.”

He nodded like he understood, but he didn’t make a move to leave. Barney’s soft mews drifted down from the window above. Finally, Micah said, “How long did you say you’ve had Lilith?”

I hadn’t. “About a year and a half,” I said. “Why?”

“The longer together, the more you become one.”

There was a frightening thought. Lilith’s personality could be summed up by the words “death” and “destruction.” Her gloom and doom didn’t really jive with my whole perky Goth lifestyle. The idea of becoming more like the Queen of Hell with every passing year seemed a bit daunting. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean, how do you know all this?”

In the darkness, Micah’s face became inscrutable and he said, “I can read it in your eyes. It’s already beginning.”

Normally if a guy gave me a line as cheesy as that, I pointed fingers and laughed at them. But my eyes were the scars left from the night Lilith entered me. They’d changed from light blue to deep purple, a physical reminder of the deal I ’d struck. “When . . .” I dropped my voice, even though I knew it was kind of foolish to whisper, as if the Goddess couldn’t hear me. “How soon would I have to excise her? That is, if I wanted to.”

“The sooner the better. You have to ask yourself, Garnet. Why does she stay? What does Lilith get out of your little arrangement?

Is she satisfied with what she has?”

Now I was really nervous. More than once Lilith had shown an interest in taking over more of our body “time share,” as it were. I’d already had to magically contain her once, lest she start moving my body around like a puppet. Was that what Micah was talking about with “bonding”? Had I bound her to me with my spell? “What are you saying exactly? Are you saying Lilith is planning some kind of takeover?”

He cocked his head to the side quizzically. “She’s already tried, hasn’t she?”

My mouth was dry. I nodded.

“You need to do this.”

“Maybe,” I said. I still wasn’t sure. There was so much about Micah that seemed, well, untrustworthy. For one, I didn’t know why he was so concerned about me. What were his motivations? What had he meant by saying he’d “take her off my hands”? Was he planning on trying to keep Lilith for himself?

He shook his head at me as if he could read my thoughts. “It’s the power, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The power,” he repeated. “Raw. Elemental. Heady stuff. I can’t really blame you. A lot of guys wouldn’t want to let something like that go.”

I pursed my lips. “Are you saying I’m keeping Lilith because I like having access to her magical strength?”

“Aren’t you?”

Before I could formulate a response, Micah turned and walked away. I watched him bound down the stairs. The trees cast deeper shadows along the sidewalk where the streetlights couldn’t penetrate the dense leaves. I watched him move through the strobe of dark and less dark. In one lighter patch, I saw a man turn to look at me. In the next, there was a coyote, nose to ground, padding silently away.

I was so preoccupied with the questions Micah had left me with that I almost walked past the blinking red light on my answering machine.

I hit play. My breath caught as I heard what sounded like Sebastian, but I couldn’t be sure since the message was a weird, slowmo amalgam of voices that I couldn’t understand at all. Very
Exorcist
. It took me a second to realize that somehow my answering machine had chosen this moment to stop erasing previous recordings. Instead, it had recorded new messages on top of previous callers. So, it sounded like the dental office was reminding of an appointment from a month ago, while Sebastian was trying to communicate to me.

I screamed in frustration. Sure, I was a cheapskate for reusing the microcassette tapes, but have you tried to find those little buggers since everything has gone digital? Why now!? Of all the bloody times?

I picked up the answering machine and banged it on the bookcase.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I punctuated each word with another slam, not entirely sure who I was yelling at—myself or the machine. I took some pleasure in watching pieces of plastic fly off it, since I knew I’d be at Target tomorrow buying the goddamn top-of-theline (in my price range) replacement. Which—bang!—would not—bang!—take— bang!—tape—crunch!

In the kitchen I heard Barney sneeze and make a hacking sound like she was tossing a hairball. I gave the answering machine one last withering glance as I dropped the pieces on the table and went to check on the cat. When I entered the kitchen, Barney sat primly in front of empty food bowls and looked at me with sorrowful eyes. “All that noise just to get fed?”

She blinked innocently. I filled up her bowl. I sat down at the table, still covered in my astrology books and papers. Remembering the sight of Sebastian coming into the kitchen, I felt tears stinging my eyes.

He’d tried to call. At least I knew Sebastian was still alive. Or was when he left the message, anyway. My neck ached, and my hands rubbed absently at the slick bandages around my throat. The surgical tape itched, so I picked at it. Goddess, what a day!

I considered the idea of luck as I traced the letters of Dane Rudyard’s
Astrology Now
. Didn’t I look for patterns in the tides of fortune? Wasn’t that part of what I believed— that everything happened for a reason? Maybe something was happening in the stars, something that if I knew about, I could counteract.

Even though my eyes were gritty from a lack of sleep, I pored over my chart, ephemerides, and my entire astrological library for the next two hours. I found nothing. In fact, progressing my chart only showed that this was supposed to be a pleasant, benign time for me. I checked transits. I unearthed Sebastian’s chart from my notebook, our combined relationship chart, and anything else I thought might be useful. Still, I found no illumination, no clue. Finally, my eyelids drooped and the words I scanned blurred into senselessness.

I gave up. Dragging myself into my bedroom, I didn’t bother to change into pajamas. I was out before my head hit the pillow. The alarm didn’t go off and I overslept for the second time in two days. I probably would have slept the day away, but Barney decided she’d waited long enough for her food and knocked a pile of paperback novels off the bed stand. The crash brought me to my feet. When I noticed the time, I frantically undressed from the clothes I had fallen asleep in last night and redressed in the first things I grabbed out of my closet, cursing the entire time because somehow every movement twisted my neck muscles in just the wrong way. I called William to tell him I’d be there as soon as possible, threw food in Barney’s bowl, grabbed a breakfast bar and a protein shake for me, and ran downstairs and out the door.

Halfway to the store, it started to drizzle. Even as my bike kicked a stripe of wet up my back, I wished the sky would just open up into a full-fledged thunderstorm. At least then there would be a chance that the humidity would drop afterward. I parked my bike in the alley behind the store and used my key in the back door. Stopping at the employee bathroom, I attempted to style my soggy hair and retouch my makeup. The bandages on my neck had mostly peeled off in the rain, so I removed them the rest of the way. The burn marks on my neck looked puckered and sore, but not horrific. I had a tendency to heal a bit faster than your average girl thanks to a blood transfusion from my vampire ex, Parrish. I adjusted my collar to hide the marks as best I could. Taking a deep breath, I felt ready for the day. Confident, I walked out into the front only to see Eugene, the owner, waiting for me with a frown on his face.

Oh, crap. I’d forgotten I’d asked him to come in so I could talk about buying this place. Well, two and a half hours late made me look really responsible. Way to impress the boss.

We meandered through the store negotiating as Eugene compulsively rearranged materials to his liking. I resisted the impulse to fix them back to their original order as we discussed cost (Oh, my god, really? That much?), financing options, and contracts. Eugene looked more like a customer than the owner in his striped short-sleeved shirt and what could only be referred to as a man skirt or, perhaps more generously, culottes. He had quite the look going with his knee -high, dark-colored socks that showed through open-toed hemp sandals. By the end of it all, we were standing in the pagan greeting card alcove having come to a tentative agreement.

After seeing Eugene to the door with many hearty hand-shakes, I felt like my day had turned around for the better. That’s when I saw Mátyás leaning against the political slogan display—his head framed by a poster that read, “My other car is a broomstick.”

“We have to talk,” he said, putting a vice grip on my elbow and steering the two of us toward the coffee shop next door. “Now.”

I looked around for William, who had conveniently found busywork to do when Eugene was nosing around the store. I wanted to let him know I’d be stepping out for a few minutes, but I didn’t spot him anywhere. “No need to shove,” I said, wrestling my arm out from his grasp. “Honestly? I could totally use a triple espresso right now, especially if you’re buying.”

Máytás looked startled for a moment, then said, “Yeah, right. Sorry.”

Sorry? Did Mátyás just apologize for being rude? “Are you okay?”

Mátyás shook his head. “I’m far from okay. That’s why we need to talk.”

The scent of French roast made my head throb with desire as we stepped across the threshold into the adjoining coffeehouse, Holy Grounds. Until I walked into the place, I’d forgotten that I’d skipped my usual morning caffeine. I was really starting to regret it. I’d done most of the negotiating with Eugene on pure adrenaline—had he really agreed to consider it? Gulp!—and now the days of little or no sleep were catching up to me. I needed a lot of caffeine and I needed it now. Despite large windows and tall ceilings, the place seemed cavernous and dark after the extreme glare of summer. I sent Mátyás in search of a spot to sit while I ordered our drinks. My friend Izzy was behind the bar. Izzy, who had been experimenting with her hair for a few months, had given up and decided to go au naturel. Her hair puffed around her head in an Afro, making her look a bit like Beyoncé in that Austin Powers movie—except Izzy seemed more regal, more solid. I pointed to her hair. “Cute.”

She pointed to my neck. “Ugly. Dang, girl, what happened to you?”

Reflexively, my hand reached up to cover the burn marks. “A crystal wind chime tried to kill me,” I said trying to sound casual.

“A flaming wind chime? Because you look scorched.”

“I am,” I admitted. “Lilith kind of, well, melted the chain.”

“Hm. She should be more careful with the body she inhabits. ” Izzy handed me my “velvet hammer with a depth charge” and Mátyás’s iced chai.

I nodded, thinking of Micah’s comments last night. I totally expected Izzy to grill me about what had happened with the wind chimes, but maybe she’d just gotten so used to the crazy in my life that she decided it was something better not known.

“So, who’s the new hottie?” Izzy asked as she made change for my twenty.

“Hottie?” I looked around to see who she might be talking about. Had Micah walked in?

She pointed her chin in the direction of Mátyás. “The guy you came in with.”

I looked at Mátyás in horror. Izzy thought he was sexy? “That’s Mátyás Von Traum. Sebastian’s son,” I said, trying not to sound as disgusted as I was that someone might find him attractive.

Izzy actually purred. “So, you’re not into him?”

“No way.”

“Is he single?”

I couldn’t help but gape. “I have no idea.”

“Find out and your next latte is free.”

“Okay.” I mean, I had to keep myself in lattes, didn’t I? Still, did I really want to encourage my friend to date my fiancé ’s son?

Why did I suddenly envision extremely awkward double-dating?

Mátyás had chosen a spot in the back on the comfy couches. Prime real estate, and usually the first spots to be filled, which was a testimony to how slow things were at this hour during the summer. I only hoped things were equally as dead over at Mercury Crossing; I was going to owe William some time off.

I must have unconsciously checked my watch because Mátyás said, “Am I keeping you from something?”

“Well, my job, actually,” I said dryly.

“This is about Papa.”

The store could wait. “Did you hear from him? What’s happened?”

“I think Papa’s in hell,” he said seriously.

“No way,” I said, not waiting for an explanation of that strange little gem of a conversation gambit. “I heard from him last night. He left a message. At least, I’m pretty sure he did.” Dang, I thought, looking at my watch again. The day was slipping away from me, and I’d really hoped to go to the department store over lunchtime to buy a new answering machine.

“Maybe he went to hell after he called you,” Mátyás said casually, as if we were discussing the latest Badgers game. “I’m pretty sure he’s there.”

I took a long sip of my coffee. It was true to its name: smooth and vaguely painful. I could feel my brain start to kick into a higher gear, which was helpful since Mátyás seemed to insist on talking in riddles. “What are you talking about? Literally in hell? And, how do you know?”

Mátyás’s gaze slid from mine and focused, instead, on the painting on the far wall. The featured artist of the month apparently attempted to explore the darker side of the subconscious. Eyes, beady and yellow stared hungrily at me out of inky, oily canvases. They were spookily realistic—glistening and intense, especially given the sketchy blackness that surrounded them. There was one that portrayed some kind of hairy, demonic, twisted-up man-beast crawling across the lonely stretch of highway, its eyes mournful, like a lost puppy. I was horrified, yet captivated. It was well-done but disturbing stuff.