Garnet Lacey - Tall, Dark And Dead Part 3

His hand squeezed my shoulder as he headed for the door. The warmth of his palm lingered momentarily along the curve of my neck. "I had a great time. Really," he said. "I hope to see you again, Lilith."

"Yeah," I said to the jangle of bells on the door as he walked out of my life. I replayed the last part of our conversation in my head, noting the various places I'd screwed up... or did I? I was on my fifth go-round when I nearly choked on my latte.

"He called me Lilith," I said out loud, my heart pounding in my chest. "Lilith."

I shouldn't have done it, but I had to know. I shut my eyes for a moment, visualizing a doorway. In my mind's eye, it was steel with a combination lock, like a safe or a bank's vault. I imagined the tumbler spinning, all the while letting my breathing slow as my senses searched for the elements: earth, air, fire, water, spirit. The door swung open, and I felt the old power settle around my shoulders like a warm shawl.

Searching for a trace of residual magic, I reached for the rim of Sebastian's abandoned coffee mug. My fingers jumped back after the lightest brush. The cup glowed red-hot with his presence. In fact, when I looked around the room with my magical eyes, I could see trails of everywhere he'd been, like wisps of black smoke.

I was so stupid. It was so obvious. He wasn't dead; he was highly magical. Perhaps Sebastian was a necromancer or a dark Witch of some high degree. He'd have to be one wicked-powerful magician in order to recognize Her.

Vampires often saw Her. They didn't always call Her by name, but they somehow seemed to sense that power riding me. It was probably why none of them had ever tried to kill me, even when I recognized them for what they were. Vampires lived in secret. They didn't like it when people pointed to them and said, "Hey, bloodsucker, what's up?" Not that I'd ever done that, but, well, sometimes my mouth started up before I found the off switch. Witness my exchange with Sebastian. I could stand to learn some subtlety.

Izzy plunked down in the chair Sebastian had occupied and grinned into my face. "So, who was the hottie? And why didn't you go home with him?"

I hadn't put away my magic, so I could see the remaining wisps of Sebastian's energy scatter from Izzy's bright blue aura like snakes recoiling from a sudden light. I shook my head and took a deep breath. It was always more difficult to close down the magic than to free it. "Give me a second," I told Izzy.

Izzy was used to my weirdness. Though she anxiously fiddled with Sebastian's mug, she didn't interrupt as I gathered myself together and mentally relocked the door. When I opened my eyes again, the world had returned to normal. Mostly. I could still see a glimmer of Sebastian here and there, like the afterimage of a Fourth of July sparkler.

"So..." Izzy prompted, "where'd you dig him up?"

I laughed. Izzy always surprised me, even though I'd done her natal chart and knew full well she was a latent psychic. "Sebastian came into the shop looking for some mandrake root." "Ooooh." Izzy feigned horror. "Satan's root, that makes him some kind of evil magician, right?"

"Right," I said a little too seriously.

Izzy and her d.a.m.ned intuition picked up on it right away. "Okay, what's going on, girl? Normally, you'd be all giddy after hanging out with a handsome, grown-up man instead of one of those pimply college boys who want to initiate themselves at your altar. Something's wrong. Seriously wrong."

I rubbed my eyes. They always felt tingly after I used the magical sight. "Yeah, I don't know, I guess it doesn't really matter." So Sebastian was a powerful, potentially evil necromancer. That really didn't have anything to do with me. Well, other than the fact that I should probably put aside my desire to date him. I also felt slightly less inclined to help him obtain his mandrake. Whatever he planned to reanimate probably wasn't a good thing.

"Look at you, you're all googly-eyed. You've totally fallen for this guy."

Once again, Izzy was probably right. "That's such a bad idea."

"Why?"

"I don't know much about him," I said lamely. Actually, I knew quite a bit, but all of it was confusing, frustrating, or s.e.xy. I was actually kind of surprised that Izzy didn't seem to know Sebastian. She loved to dish, and thanks to a Libra Sun and a Gemini Rising, she could usually charm any information out of anyone. "So, you've never seen him before? Never heard anything about a Sebastian Von Traum?"

"Honey, I'd remember a man like that."

"I know him. I sold him his house."

We both turned to stare at a woman who sat at the table behind us. She nodded. "Sebastian, right?"

My first impression was: this woman is completely forgettable. She had a soccer-mom bob of some undistinguished brownish color, a matching skirt and blouse. She completed the look with brown, low-heeled pumps. They weren't Birkenstock-comfortable shoes by any stretch of the imagination, but they were the kind of dress shoes worn by women who had to be on their feet all day. Because I always looked, I noticed the small golden cross that hung around her neck. A nice Christian real estate agent, then. I wondered what she'd think if she knew she'd sold a house to a necromancer.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said. "Sebastian Von Traum is such an unusual name, I recognized it instantly."

Despite Izzy's disapproving look, I motioned the woman over to the table. "He's Austrian, I guess," I offered, curious to know what else she could tell me about Sebastian. "English-educated."

"Yes, I understand Mr. Von Traum is some kind of horticulturist at University," she said. "I sold him his property."

The way the real estate agent said "at University" pegged her as a foreigner. Nearly every Madisonian referred to it as UW. Most of the rest of America tended to add a "the" before speaking of higher education. "I thought he was a car mechanic." She gave a little disdainful laugh. "A car mechanic? With an original Pica.s.so? I think not."

I could almost hear the growl of murderous rage in Izzy's throat before she spoke. "What are you saying? A car mechanic can't own decent art?"

The agent raised a frosty blond eyebrow and looked to me-the other white woman at the table-for help. I gave her none. In fact, I added, "Most college professors make much less than mechanics."

"He doesn't own it anymore," the agent said. "He sold it at auction a couple of months ago."

Which was about the time Sebastian said he'd moved to Madison. At least the agent seemed to have the timing of Sebastian's relocation correct.

"I suppose mechanics can only own velvet Elvises," Izzy muttered into her coffee cup.

"Where did you say he worked?" she asked me, ignoring the hostile gaze shooting from Izzy's eyes.

"I didn't," I said, while thinking,Wouldn't that have been on the loan application ? Surely the woman must know where he works if she knows what he owns. What, did Sebastian hock the Pica.s.so to buy the farm? "Why do you want to know?"

Her eyes slid from mine momentarily. Then, as if deciding on the lie she wanted to hand me, she looked up suddenly and said, "Networking. I get my best referrals from former clients. I like to stop by people's workplaces. Sometimes they can introduce me to friends on the spot."

Big fat lie. Not even a good one at that.

I frowned suspiciously at her. She was getting information from us, not the other way around. But I couldn't understand it; I thought maybe she might be tracking Sebastian down for money owed or something. After all, she seemed to be trying to locate him, but if she sold him his house, she must remember the address. "What kind of property does Sebastian own?"

The agent studied her coffee cup for a noticeable moment before she spoke. "One with s.p.a.ce for all those herbs of his."

Shehad no clue.I , however, had typed his address into my computer less than twenty minutes ago.

Sebastian had a farm just outside the city in Dane County.

"No mandrake, though, I guess," Izzy said before I could kick her shin under the table. "Mandrake's a Witch's herb," she added, clearly playing the freak-out-the-mundane game, which was especially odd, considering that she was a Christian of some kind herself. Izzy must have been hopping mad about the cla.s.sist remark the agent had made earlier for her latent psychic abilities not to catch my mental screams to shut it. "He was buying it over at Garnet's shop. Probably for some spell, right, Garnet?"

"I've never heard of mandrake," the agent said. "Does that grow around here?"

"It's very common," I said trying to sound casually disinterested. Though I didn't know why, I hesitated to give this woman any more information about Sebastian than we already had.

"No, it's not," Izzy countered. "You've got to special order it. A bunch of naked lesbians have toharvest it by the full moon."

Normally, that would be game over. Your average mundane would have blushed, stammered, or fled at the mention of skyclad women wielding scythes. Our real estate agent merely blinked.

A creepy-crawly feeling twisted across my stomach.

"So, he'll be back," the agent said. "Well, this was a very interesting conversation, ladies, but I should really go. Maybe I'll see you again, Garnet."

When she hefted her purse onto her shoulder, the fabric at the back of her blouse shifted so that the V-neck exposed a bit of skin under her collarbone, revealing the hint of tattooed numbers. I didn't have to see them clearly to know exactly what was inked in blood red: 22:18. It was a reference to the biblical book of Exodus, which read: "Thou shall not suffer a Witch to live."

She was no real estate agent; she was a Vatican killer.

Second House

KEYWORDS:.

Evaluation, Entanglement, Order

My fingers gripped the strap of my backpack as I watched the agent disappear into State Street's evening crowd.

"I need to go," I heard myself say over the roar in my ears. I stood but I couldn't move. I had to leave town right now. I should walk to the bus station, buy a ticket, and go.Don't hesitate, girl , I told myself, these are the killers who murdered your entire coven.

My feet refused to move. My head knew what I should do, but my heart wasn't willing. I felt overwhelmed by a desire to leave responsibly this time. There was so much to do. The bus station was close, but I'd promised Barney I'd go back for her. I needed to turn in my keys, call Eugene, get my shifts covered... and I should warn Sebastian.

A hand on mine stopped me. I hadn't realized I'd started moving. Izzy smiled up at me. "You look frazzled, honey. No need to rush off. I'll get you another latte. Sit for a second."

I blinked. In her intuitive way, Izzy was right. Running would only draw attention. I should wait for a moment and try to form a plan of action. I drew in a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, trying to relax them. "Yeah, okay."

Dutifully, I sat. When Izzy got up to fetch the drink, it took all my resolve not to grab her and beg her to stay. She must have seen the panic in my eyes, because she paused and gave me a rea.s.suring smile. "I'll be right back."

"Good," I said, letting out the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. I needed a plan, but all I could think was,Oh s.h.i.t, a Vatican agent. Here .

Through the iron candleholder, the flame cast a flickering shadow on the table that looked like women dancing in a circle.

For a moment, I saw them all alive again: Jasmine and the others. We stood with our hands clasped together. Wren's rich alto led us in song. It was a moment of perfect trust, perfect peace. Though I tried to hold on to that image, the memory of blood overwhelmed me. Still in a circle, some still holding hands, they lay sprawled on the floor. Their nakedness, which had in life always felt so safe, so powerful, made them look vulnerable and small. The black robes of the Vatican stood out in stark contrast to the pale corpses.

I used my fingers to extinguish the candle. With the shadows gone, my memory faded. Glancing toward the counter, I saw Izzy busy preparing my latte. I had to warn Sebastian. He might be engaged in a kind of black magic I disapproved of, but I couldn't sentence him to death. Not by their hands.

Even though my knees threatened to buckle, I stood up. "I left something in the store," I said to Izzy, just as I realized she was about to set the drinks at our table. Sebastian's contact information was on the card I'd left next to the register, including a phone number. In what I hoped was a more sane tone, I added, "I have to go."

Izzy made some kind of protest, but I was already pulling the keys from my pocket.

My fingers trembled as I punched in the security code to turn off the alarm. In the dark, the familiar surroundings took on a sinister cast. The aisle felt too narrow, the ceiling too crowded, too close. I put my hand on a bookshelf to steady myself, only to knock over the turquoise feng shui dragon statuette Eugene insisted on setting in the east corner of the store. It shattered into tiny porcelain shards when it hit the floor.

There went my luck.

I started to stoop to clean up the pieces but decided to take care of Sebastian first. I made my way to the checkout counter without breaking anything else. Finding Sebastian's business card, I used the telephone under the counter to call his cell. The first time I dialed, I forgot to press 9 to get an outside line. The second time, I got the numbers screwed up and connected to a bait shop.

When the overhead lights flicked on, I shrieked, dropping the receiver on the counter so hard it bounced. "Holy Mother," I swore.

"Are you okay?" It was Izzy. She poked her head in from around the side door. "I heard a crash."

"I just destroyed Eugene's luck," I said through shallow breaths. "It's okay."

"Not the dragon?" Izzy asked with a low whistle. "He's going to kill you."

"He's not the only one," I whispered. To Izzy, I said, "I'm okay, I just need to make a quick call."

There was silence as she stared thoughtfully at me. Her brow furrowed slightly, then she said, "Okay, but when you're done, come back. Finish your latte, then I'll give you a ride home." That was a sweet offer. I found I was actually able to smile a little bit. "Thanks."

She shut the door behind her, and I carefully dialed Sebastian's cell again. I held my breath as it rang.

When it picked up, I almost started to yell, "The Vatican is coming!" but then realized I'd reached his voice mail. I took a deep breath to calm myself as I waited for the beep.

"Don't come back here, Sebastian," I started, and then stopped. He wouldn't recognize my voice; we'd only just met. "I mean, that is, this is Garnet. We just had coffee. Anyway, it's too dangerous." I paused again. Did he know about the Order? He seemed like he might, but if he'd been solitary this whole time... How did I explain on voice mail that the Vatican had a crack team of Witch hunters without sounding like a freak? Or, should I say,more like a freak. "Call me, and I can explain everything," I finished lamely, and gave him my number at home. "Tonight," I insisted. "It's really important."

I pressed the option to mark the call "priority" and then hung up.

He was never going to call; I sounded like a complete idiot.

Grabbing the broom and dustpan, I went to clean up the feng shui disaster. Well, when I got home, I'd try Sebastian again. Returning the cleaning supplies to their place behind the counter, I grabbed his card and tucked it into my pocket. My fingers hovered over the phone, but I told myself I didn't need to call again right away. After all, the a.s.sa.s.sin couldn't really know where he lived, or she'd have gone directly there. She wouldn't have needed to wheedle the information from us. He probably had some time. The agent would be watching the store, watching me; so as long as I didn't lead her to him, it would be all right.

On the drive home, I borrowed Izzy's cell to try to reach Sebastian again. I called both numbers listed on his card. No answer. I tried not to let that worry me. Maybe he was the sort to turn his cell off when he was out. Or perhaps he was at some noisy bar and couldn't hear the ring. I told myself he was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

I just wanted to do whatever I could to spare anyone else a run-in with the Vatican.

Izzy filled the rest of the ride with idle chitchat. I watched Madison roll by outside my window. I liked this town. It was a perfect mixture of urban and park s.p.a.ces. There was a beautiful parkway that stretched from downtown to the lakes and along neighborhoods full of grand old houses like my own.

Burr and white oak branches formed canopies over the broad avenues. I was going to miss this place. I wondered where I'd settle next.

A wave of nausea pa.s.sed over me at the thought of leaving everything I'd come to love. I gripped my back with whitening knuckles. I didn't want to do it. I loved my apartment, my job, and this town.

Finally, after months of being alone, I'd made good friends again... people I could trust. I glanced at Izzy. Could I tell her about the Vatican agents? About my past?

I was still considering when we pulled up to my duplex.

"Do you want me to come in?" She popped the trunk and came out to help me pull the bike out from where we'd stowed it.

"I'm good," I said, but I think the tremble in my voice betrayed me. I stood on the sidewalk, my bike resting against my hip. Izzy leaned on the hood of her car. The streetlight at the end of the block lit half of Izzy's face in stark white contrasts, like a harlequin mask. She gave me a deeply skeptical frown. "I can stay here until I know you're in safely."

I could have cried at her kindness. I was going to miss having a friend like her. "No, I'm feeling restless.

I might hit the grocery store or maybe just go for a ride."

She nodded, but I could tell she disapproved. "You sure you don't need the company?"

"I'd love the company, but I don't think I'm up for it," I said honestly. "I've got some thinking to do."

"I'd love to know about what."

"When I get it sorted out, I'll tell you, promise."

"It has to do with that man, doesn't it?"