Serafina and the Virtual Man (16 page)

He laid down his coffee mug and stood up, glancing out of her darkened window at the park beyond. “All quiet these days?”

“No more fights, sorcery, or undead disturbances,” she assured him.

When he’d gone, she flopped back onto her favourite cushion in front of the laptop and found a new message from Adam.

Exodus: Sorcery? Undead disturbances?

JK: You wouldn’t believe what went on last autumn. A sorcerer tried to take over the world—or at least this country—by putting vampires in key banking positions. We saved the world in a huge fight in the park, just outside my window.

Exodus: We?

JK: Serafina’s. I won’t tell you my part in it, not online.

Exodus: Sometimes I don’t know when you’re kidding.

JK: Trust me, weird stuff happens around Serafina’s. Why do you think I bought into you so easily?

Exodus:
I
haven’t bought into “me.” What does Sera think’ll happen if and when we get to the bottom of all this? Will that be my cue to take off to the big computer game in the sky?

JK: I don’t know. Spirits have to move on. She says.

And yet, why should they? Why couldn’t he stay in the VR? Why couldn’t she?

JK: You should talk to Sera. She’s been trying to reach you.

Exodus: Here I am. Send me her chat ID.

JK: I’m serious. Sera talks to the dead all the time. There’s pretty much no spirit she can’t reach. If you hear her, feel her, however it works, please talk to her.

There was a pause before he typed “Okay.” She supposed it was a hard thing for him to deal with, even in his current impossible position. Old scepticism died hard.

****

Jilly was just about to climb into bed when, on impulse, she reached for her phone and texted Sera to ask if she’d tried to reach Adam again.

The message came back almost immediately. “Several times. No joy yet.”

Jilly texted back a thanks and got into bed. Why couldn’t Sera reach Adam? She had every possible connection to him, and yet the only time she’d been able to speak to him was in the VR machine, just like Jilly.

In the past, the only spirits Sera hadn’t been able to reach had been those closest to her, the ones she couldn’t shake her own quite unreasonable guilt over—her mother, her beloved foster parents. Hell, she could even talk to the
un
dead, like Blair, when no one else could.

So what could that mean?

One: that Sera was somehow responsible for Adam’s death. No.

Two: that the VR machine somehow shut off normal spiritual communication? Possible, though God knew how that might work.

Three: that he wasn’t actually dead. After being stabbed and shot?

Jilly sat up in bed slowly, hugging her knees under her chin. Sera couldn’t feel his death or speak to him as a spirit. His only death certificate was almost certainly a fake. Dale and Petra hadn’t killed him, according to Sera’s infallible lie detector. They couldn’t have killed him if he wasn’t dead. And if Andy and George had done it, no way would it have been covered up as it had.

She pressed her cheek so hard into her knee that it hurt. She wanted this too much. She was making up convoluted reasons for him to be still alive. All she had was a computer program that
learned
. Wasn’t it just as likely that was
all
he was, without any spirit for Sera to reach?

She wanted him to be more because she’d had virtual reality sex with him. Because she’d liked it so much, liked
him
so much. But the harsh reality was, she was a lonely, damaged woman, a sexually frustrated woman who’d wanted sex without it hurting her. She’d craved an imaginary lover. He’d even told her the system was largely operated by the player’s thoughts and desires. And she’d got what she wanted, only now she wanted it to be more; she wanted him to be there all the time, when in reality, he’d never been there at all.

She threw herself back down on the pillow.

Or
he wasn’t dead. Dale and Petra were hiding something, of that she’d always been certain. But hiding what? That they’d hired someone to kill Adam? Or that he’d never died at all? Hell, maybe they’d just forged his will.

Fuck, where was he? Dead or alive, where was his body? Somewhere in that damned, ugly house, she’d lay money on it.

If she had any.

Chapter Sixteen

Jilly had just made another interesting discovery when Sera erupted from Serafina’s inner office, her coat and bag over one shoulder.

“Going up to Mel’s to check her over for evil spirits,” Sera said cheerfully. “Want to come, Jilly?”

Jilly hesitated. Part of her longed for a jaunt away from all this, to visit the intriguing witch in her own habitat.

“No,” she said reluctantly. “There’s stuff I need to do here. Do me a favour, though? Ask Mel about the Ewans and witchcraft. And any spell that might have kept Adam’s spirit hidden here.”

“Will do.” Sera took a step nearer. “Jilly? You will be discreet, won’t you?”

“It’s my middle name,” Jilly said flippantly.

“I’m serious. If word gets out about your investigations, it’s going to piss off whoever’s gone to all this effort to cover it up. I don’t want you ending up in Australia.”

Jilly grinned. “You’d come and visit, wouldn’t you?”

Sera scowled. “Just be careful, will you?”

“‘Course I will.”

“And if you need help, Blair’ll be upstairs until I get back.”

Jilly opened her mouth to vehemently deny the possibility of ever asking the vampire for help. Instead, she stood up and took Sera’s arm, walking with her to the door of Serafina’s.

Outside, she blurted, “What if he isn’t dead, Sera? What if he’s still hidden in that house somewhere, alive?”

Sera stared at her, fingers frozen on the strap of her bag. “After five months? With a gunshot wound? And a stab wound? How the hell…?”

“She used to be a nurse,” Jilly interrupted. “Before she married Ewan and walked away.”

“Petra?” Sera chewed her lower lip and sagged back against the wall of the building while she thought about it. “Hardly proof, Jilly.”

“But together with the fact that you can’t reach him and that Dale didn’t kill him, it does make you think, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure
what
it makes me think.” Sera straightened. “You keep digging, and I’ll keep mulling while I talk to Mel.”

Jilly realised her whole body was going numb with the cold and glanced dubiously up at the filthy sky. “You sure you should be driving up there today? Looks like snow to me.”

“I won’t be late,” Sera assured her. “And if the weather gets bad, I’ll stay the night at Mel’s.”

Jilly nodded and slithered back into Serafina’s, rubbing her upper arms. A customer followed her in and was seized upon by Elspeth. Jilly sat down at her desk and called up the plans of the Ewans’ house on her laptop.

Fifteen minutes later, someone else entered the office, and Jilly glanced up to see her brother Andy strolling across the room.

She blinked. “No. I haven’t got any money.”

“Aw, come on, Jillian,” he wheedled. “I’ll pay you back.”

“When? After your next offence?”

He stopped in front of her desk and lowered his voice. “Look, I need to get out of Edinburgh. Axel knows it was me.”

“Told you he would. Which of your close friends grassed you up to him?”

“
She
did, before she ran away.”

Jilly raised her brows. “You’re not thinking of joining her, are you?”

“No,” Andy said, with just enough regret in his voice to make Jilly think there might eventually be hope for Andy. But then, she’d been thinking that for most of her life. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea, but I do need to get out of here until Axel calms down. Just give us the bus fare to London.”

Jilly glared at him with derision while she thought. “Does he know where you live?”

“Not yet, but it’s hardly top-secret information.”

“Well, hole up there just now and don’t go out. I’ll think of something.”

“Jillian, for f—”

“That’s it, Andy, I’m up to my ears in other stuff. I’ll get to it, all right?”

She realised Elspeth was watching over the rim of her spectacles. Jack had his coat on, ready to go out on some errand or other, but he was watching too, waiting for Andy to leave before he did. Jack didn’t look as if he’d be any good in a fight, but Jilly had fought vampires at his side and knew he could give at least as good as he got.

Andy swore under his breath, turned on his heel, and strode out of Serafina’s.

“Coffee?” Elspeth said brightly.

****

With access to the Genesis computers, including the one controlling the new VR machine imperfectly built in one of the company’s labs, Adam found it easy enough to isolate the problems and find solutions which he communicated to the workforce in Dale’s name. At first, Dale had stood over him and insisted on sending the instructions himself, but when he realised Adam really wasn’t going to either sabotage the operation or amuse himself by signing anything with his own name, he left him to it for several hours.

Adam worked hard, as anxious as he’d ever been to make this work. And something began to ache inside him as he got into the way of it. He’d never have given this up voluntarily. And this was undoubtedly his swan song. Like it or not, he was dead and would have to move on as JK said.

How could a disembodied spirit ache? VR just wasn’t that good, not without a body to do the feeling.

The lab door slid open, and Dale came in again. “How’s it going?”

“Good. The machine should be perfect by tomorrow, and you can start reloading the software. Get Gina Manson to do that, and free Curly and Frances to sort out those bugs.”

“Frances? Are you sure? She’s already been working on the—”

“I’m sure,” Adam interrupted.

Dale smiled reluctantly. “All right. Your call.”

Adam swivelled in his chair and looked up at his old partner where he stood gazing down at the computer screen. “How’d it happen, Dale?”

“I guess we missed your magical touch,” Dale said sardonically.

“No, I mean
this
.” He tapped his chest and let his hand fall into his lap.

Dale’s eyes fell, then slid back to meet his gaze. “Maybe you care too much for your new baby system.”

“I do. I care how I came to be shot as well. Was it your gun?”

Dale leaned forward, his hand hovering near the power button. “It was my gun, but you can’t imagine I fired it.”

“It crossed my mind,” Adam said. “Don’t push the button. I’ll only override it. There’s too much still to do.”

“I know that,” Dale said with dignity. “I’d no intention of pushing it. As I’d no intention of shooting you.”

Adam curved his lips. “I wondered if I went to Australia because I was so pissed off at you shooting me.”

Dale examined the design on the screen in minute detail. “You were certainly pissed off at the idea of someone trying to kill you. And the police never found who did it.”

Adam’s stomach twisted
. Oh, come on, Dale. The police never even looked because they’d no idea it’d happened. You know that.

“It shook you up,” Dale said.

“I suppose it would have.”
So I took to drink and drugs? Really? Oh no, I was already far gone enough down that road to’ve been in rehab. You’re lying. And I don’t know why or even what about.

Dale switched screens to look at the reams of code Adam had been examining. “So what happens now? Do you just stay forever in the VR system?”

“A positive milch cow of ideas? I’ve already come up with an amazing plot about a dead guy—looking for vengeance.” He smiled at Dale’s averted face. “Of course. It’s a computer game, after all.”

Dale met his gaze once more. “And what vengeance would you take, Adam?” he asked in hard voice. “And on whom for what?”

Adam shrugged. “I’m not a vengeful man—program—ghost—whatever I am. I’m just curious, and those ideas still flow through my head. I’ll send you a few if you want—you can get the development teams started on them.”

Dale’s breath caught. Adam wasn’t sure if it was a shudder or a laugh. “Fuck, Adam, this is weird,” he said shakily. And that, at least, sounded honest.

“So it is,” Adam agreed. “What are we going to do about it?”

Dale’s lips parted as if he was about to speak, but no sound came out, and he eventually closed them again.

Disappointed, Adam said, “You had a psychic in here exorcising a poltergeist. Why don’t you get her to exorcise me? After the launch, of course.”

“Is that what you want?”

Adam sighed. “I don’t really know what I want. I imagine the novelty of existing in one dull room with however many computers to play on and only your company wears thin after a while. And there’s another rub: I don’t even know what’s possible.”

“Neither do I,” Dale said. “Neither do I.”

****

By the end of the working day, Jilly had discovered nothing to disprove her theory that Adam had died in August and his trail to Australia had been faked. Plus she’d pored over the Ewans’ house plans and found nowhere Adam could have been hidden except for cellars that could have been dug out.

It was snowing outside, and, annoyingly, Sera had called to say she was staying at Mel’s. It was annoying because Jilly wanted to break into the Ewans’ house and Sera was pretty good at picking locks.

Elspeth had gone home. Jack was finishing up some background report on one of Sera’s new clients. Restlessly, Jilly walked into the inner office to check that the door to Sera’s flat was locked. As she did so, she remembered that Blair was up there.

Wouldn’t like to be a burglar running into him, she thought, tempted to just leave the door. She paused, with the key halfway into the lock. Sera had said something to her once about Blair and doors.

Her breath caught.

“Jack?” she called. “Are you still busy?”

“Give me five minutes.”

“Sure. Don’t leave till I come back, will you? I’m just going up to Sera’s.”

Jack grunted by way of agreement, and Jilly, feeling as if she were taking her life in her hands, opened the door to Sera’s flat and walked in.

Blair stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for her. Jilly took a deep breath and climbed. Blair’s face remained expressionless as he stood aside to let her pass. She didn’t go far, just stood beside him and glared at him.

“If Adam can turn off the alarms to the Ewans house, can you get us in?”

Still giving nothing away, he merely inclined his head.

“Lockpick and bodyguard for me and Jack—will you do it?”

She could almost have sworn a flicker of amusement passed through his inhumanly cold eyes. Again, he inclined his head.

“Okay,” Jilly said before she could change her mind. “Let’s go.”

****

“I don’t see why I have to come,” Jack said mutinously, peering through the snow still splattering on his windscreen.

“Because I don’t trust
him
to drive us there in one piece,” Jilly retorted with a jerk of her head toward the backseat, where Blair lounged in perfect silence.

“You really need to get your own license,” Jack muttered.

“It’s on my to-do list. Turn left.”

“I know the way.”

Although the snow went off during their journey, the roads outside the city were dark and treacherous, requiring all Jack’s concentration, so the drive took longer than usual and the even whiteness of the scenery made landmarks harder to recognise.

“The turnoff is just a few yards further on,” Jilly said. “I think…”

Blair suddenly leaned forward and laid his hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack yelled but, apparently understanding, spun the wheel to the left and into the correct side road. They bumped along it for a bit until Jilly said, “The Ewans’ gate is just ahead. Stop here.”

She had the laptop open on her knee.

JK: We’re outside the gate. Is the alarm off?

Exodus: Yes, and Dale and Petra have gone to bed. But who’s we?

He hadn’t wanted her to come, because even if Dale hadn’t killed him, he no longer trusted his partner. She could well understand that.

JK: Two friends, including Blair. Trust me, I couldn’t be safer.

Providing Blair didn’t get hungry. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, opening the car door. “The alarms are off, so we just have to keep quiet and let Blair do his stuff.”

To her knowledge, Blair never touched the tall, iron gates, yet they opened at the first push without so much as the tiniest creak. Jilly and Jack began the long, cold trudge up to the house. Blair moved ahead, seeming to glide over the uneven ground, faster than was humanly possible. Moreover, wearing no coat or gloves, he didn’t even shiver.

The house was in darkness. Even so, Jilly could easily make out the trail of their footsteps right to the front door. She hoped the Ewans’ milkman and postman came early to disguise the marks. The sound of boots crunching in snow sounded so loud in her ears, she couldn’t quite understand why Dale and Petra weren’t yelling for the cops already. Of course, maybe they were.

Blair was already inside by the time she got to the door, which swung open at her first touch. She and Jack slipped inside, and Jack silently closed the door. Jilly pointed at their snow-covered boots and began to take hers off. Jack followed suit, although she was almost surprised when Blair did too.

Using a thin flashlight shielded by her palm, she led them through the big, open hallway, through the archway and to the right into the kitchen. From there, she indicated the door to the cellar. “See if you can find a way beyond it to other cellars,” she whispered. “Text me what you find. Phones on silent.”

“Phasers on stun,” Jack muttered.

“Hey, you’ve got
him
,” Jilly retorted, jerking her head at the still, black shadow of Blair. “What d’you need a phaser for?”

Without waiting for a reply, she moved away from them back into the entrance hall and up the sweeping stairs to the gallery. Her stocking feet made no sound on the smooth wooden floors and steps, but she switched off the flashlight to be sure no unusual light disturbed the Ewans. It wasn’t so easy making the journey by little more than feel, and it took her more than twice as long as normal to get up the stairs and walk along the gallery, counting pillars and doors until she came to Dale’s study. At least, she hoped it was Dale’s study.