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"Concentrate," Kit urged.She did, and almost screamed. She'd never imagined such thoughts. Touching dry ice with bare skin couldn't burn worse than delving into the murk of James Chadwick's mind.
"Easy," Christopher whispered, "you're going too deep. Float to the surface, to the recent memory and skim off the traces of you."
She did just that and stepped back, ducking as if to avoid a noxious cloud. Christopher's arm wrapped around her waist. She needed him. She hadn't realized vampires got the shakes.
"Got it?" he said. She managed to nod and then he ran with her, lifting her over the hedge, the lane and racing across the fields, only stopping when they reached the corner behind the Collins's house "Doing alright now?" he asked, his hand smoothing her hair.
"That was gross!"
"He is a rather nasty individual, I admit." His lips touched cool on her forehead where he'd brushed back her hair. "Not what I'd have suggested for your first time, but it's done now. These," he glanced up at the open windows in the darkened house, "will be so much easier. But be careful! Only remove the memory of you tonight. Human brains are easily scrambled- especially elderly ones. Don't take too much."
"You mean I could cause brain damage?" The cold horror of the thought grabbed her throat.
"Not all blackouts come from alcohol or drugs."
That was an encouraging thought to take with her! But despite, or maybe because of his warning, it was easy. Two minutes in the boys' room where they slept in bunks, surrounded by model airplanes and posters of Manchester United, then Monica, alone and lonely, stirring in the big, front bedroom, and Ida, sleeping on the rollaway in Monica's sewing room. Anger threatened to shatter Dixie's concentration as she stood on the landing. If she did nothing else, she'd incriminate the killers who had shattered this family's peace.
Outside, Christopher waited. Dear Christopher, her Christopher, how had she ever thought to be without him? "Done?"
"Yes. Now I need to take care of Sebastian." Righteous indignation fermented into a fervor for retribution.
"Soon."
"Now! He caused all this. He had that bomb put there. He harried my aunts to their death. He tried to kill you-James boasted about it-and that means he did kill Vernon. He can't get away with it."
"What do you think you can do?"
Disparaging wasn't the word for his tone. "I planned on asking for your help. We can control his mind, right? I saw Justin do it to Inspector Jones. You did it to James, that first evening in the pub. We'll use that and shock tactics. He thinks he killed you and believes I died. If we both appear, unannounced in his bedroom, he'll be surprised, to say the least. Then we exert mind control and get him to confess. We can do that can't we?"
He said nothing for a good minute. What was wrong? Had she misunderstood what she'd seen with Justin? "Won't it work? If I don't have the power to turn his mind, can't we call Justin to help?"
He shook his head. "Dixie, it's a good enough plan, except for one snag."
Only one? That should be easy enough to overcome."How do you propose we get into his house?"
"What?" She remembered the barrier that blocked her entry to the Collins's house before Monica offered the invitation to enter.
"You're one of us now, my love. We can't enter a breather's habitation without invitation, and do you think Caughleigh would let either of us over the threshold?"
Chapter Eighteen.
"There has to be a way." They argued the point all the way back, and continued while sitting at the bottom of the curving staircase. Dixie wasn't stopping now. Not this close. She wrapped her hand around the banister until she noticed the old wood splintering. Releasing her grasp, she swore under her breath-to have all this strength and be stymied by a front door.
Christopher's hands closed over hers. "Why are you so set on revenge?"
"I don't want revenge. I want justice. For Stanley, his family, you, Vernon-even my old aunts. He shouldn't get away scott- free. We've got to think of something. Surely Justin can..."
"Can what, dear lady?" Justin stood an arm's length from her, one immaculately polished shoe covering a pastel rose on the rug.
"I know I'll get used to this. One day."
"You're used to it already. You're one of us now. We can't call you fledgling any longer." How the h.e.l.l did he know?
What she'd give to wipe the satisfaction off both their faces. "It's written all over you, Dixie. You can't hide it from us."
She frowned at Christopher. "What does he mean?"
"Your skin has a bloom from fresh feeding. Your body is completing the last stage of transformation. You'll increase in strength, and soon your skin will have a vampire scent."
She didn't want to think of body scents right now. Change of tack needed. "Where's the third musketeer?" She shot at Christopher what she hoped was a glare.
"Outside." Justin turned his head to the front door. "He can't come in without your invitation. One of the immutable laws of our nature."
And the one that was causing an impa.s.se in her plans. Maybe Tom had an inspiration. "Let him in."
Justin opened the door. Tom stepped into the hall and looked at the three of them. "I told Justin this was a bad idea," he said. "I warned him you wouldn't want a committee."
"Bad idea or not, you're in it too. Might as well join the party."
"She fed," Tom said to Christopher. "I didn't realize..."
"She fed before I arrived."
Previous Top Next"Alone? But surely-"
"Never mind." She snapped but forgave herself. Stress wasn't the word for the last few hours. "Since you're all here and obviously concerned about my welfare, you can help me."
"She's got a crazy idea about revenge."
"No, I haven't, Christopher. I want..." She looked at the trio of skeptical faces. She had her work cut out before she even left home. "Come into the kitchen and I'll explain what I want."
They sat round the old pine table as Dixie told them everything. From the beginning, when Sebastian stalled her possession of the house, right through to her discoveries of the files, and the contents of her great-aunts' journals. "He killed, or had Vernon, the bartender, killed. He tried to kill Christopher. He hounded both my aunts to their deaths to get their papers. He tried to kill me, twice. And as far as he's concerned, he succeeded the second time. The bomb meant for me got poor Stanley, and if that isn't enough, he planned on taking over my aunts' blackmailing business. And I'm not even starting on the nasty things he probably got into with the coven."
"You don't want to," whispered Christopher.
She took his word for it. She had quite enough on her plate as it was. "Murderers shouldn't get away with it."
"We don't go after revenge," Justin said. "We tend to outlive our enemies."
"I explained all that to her," Christopher said. "She wouldn't listen."
"I listened. I'm not after revenge either. I just want him to confess to the police. The courts can take over then." That got their attention. She suppressed the urge to smile. This was serious. Deadly serious.
"Go on," Justin said.
She looked at Tom. He nodded. Christopher smiled. She plowed on. "Justin, that afternoon in the police station you got Inspector Jones to agree to let me leave. That wasn't his first choice, but the idea had been in his mind, right?" Justin nodded.
"So, if I get Sebastian to admit his guilt, one of you can fix the idea in his mind to confess."
"You'll never get him to do it." Christopher shook his head. Thanks a lot, Kit Marlowe! She could have used a vote of confidence. She'd get it before she was through.
"But if I did?"
"If you did, his mind could be controlled and he could be made to confess," Christopher said.
"I'll get him to confess. You help me out on the mind control, and the law will do the rest."
Justin flexed his fingers. "Just like that. He'll confess?"
"I'll scare it out of him. According to Ida, he thinks I'm dead. I'm a ghost back for retribution. As superst.i.tious as he is, he's bound to believe. Christopher could come in on it too. Enter second ghost."
"That was Will Shakespeare's ploy. I never went in for ghosts."
"Cut it out, Kit. She's got a point," Tom said. "But it won't swing. You can only move around at night and he'll never let you into his house."
"He doesn't have to.""Dixie..." Christopher began.
"All I need is someone to let me into the house. Like Justin let Tom in."
"And who's going to let you into Caughleigh's house at," Justin glanced a his watch, "one o'clock in the morning?"
She grinned. Ida had given her that key. "That's easy-Emily."
"Who's Emily?" Tom and Justin spoke in chorus.
Christopher beat Dixie to the answer. "She's Caughleigh's inamorata. But she'll never do it, Dixie. She's besotted with him."
"Not anymore she isn't. She's the one who told Ida about the bomb set in my car. Both of them want his blood and will do anything to get it. They'd go to the police but are scared of implicating themselves. Emily will let me in and offer to knot the noose."
"Why this sudden change? The woman did everything but lick his feet," Christopher asked.
"She found Sebastian celebrating my supposed demise with Miss Valerie Fortune over the desk."
"A woman scorned," Tom whispered.
"Not just that." They might as well hear it all. Now was her chance to find out if vampires shocked easily. "She knew he had other women-that she learned to live with. What upset her was seeing Sebastian with his head between Valerie's legs. He'd always refused to do that for her."
"Ida told you this?" Christopher was shocked.
So was Tom. "Women talk about this sort of thing?"
"Yes, Tom. When we're not exchanging knitting patterns."
"Enough." Justin had a thousand year start on them. "You think this woman, this Emily, will invite you into his house?"
"Watch me make it happen." Dixie picked up the phone from the hall table. "Emily, it's Dixie... I know it's late... I'm not, but he tried to kill me... I have to talk to you... I'm on my way over."
"That easy?" Admiration bloomed from Christopher's eyes.
"Stage one, I'm going over to her house. Stage two is at Sebastian's. If I get him to confess, y'all back me up with the mind control?"
"Dixie, you have him confessing, I'll summon the entire colony."
"You're all I need, Christopher."
She had to run. Emily was waiting and if she stood here much longer looking at Christopher, she'd drag him upstairs. If fact, she had to get something upstairs. Now. She shoved two pairs of panty hose in her jeans pockets and switched her white tee shirt for a dark one.
"Wise woman," Tom said as she came back downstairs. "That white shirt stood out like a truce flag."
"Don't need it. This is war.""Let us come with you. "
"Not yet. Please wait here. Emily expects me. She'll probably have a cow if she sees three of you. Especially since she believes Christopher is dead. One resurrection a night is enough for any woman."
Emily opened the door in a long flannel gown and robe, looking like an ill.u.s.tration from Beatrix Potter. "He said you were dead."
"He lied!"
Emily closed the door behind her. "He wants you dead. He's scared of you."
"With good reason. I get snippy when people try to push me off cliffs and put bombs in my car."
Emily sank down on the deacon's bench in the hall. "That was terrible, killing Stanley like that. Poor Ida. He was her only child.
I told her we had to do something. He shouldn't be allowed to get away with it."
"He won't."
"What are you going to do?" Nervous hands fiddled with the ribbon ties at her neck. Sneaky eyes wanted to know more.
"The less you know, the less you need to worry about. I just need to get in there without breaking in. You can do that for me."
"How?" she almost whined. "He never lets me in his house. We always meet at his office."
Another reason to take care of Sebastian Caughleigh. "You want revenge for Valerie, right? Get me in there. Tell him something."
"What?"
"Tell him..." What would get his interest without fail? "Tell him you think you saw Christopher Marlowe in the village this evening and you want to know what to do."
"Tssk," she hissed with scorn. "That won't work. The police are still looking for him, but Sebastian knows he's dead."