Adelaide Upset (25 page)

“With your guitar?”

“
Nah,” Tim said with an
easy laugh. “Just picked it up,” except he said peeked.

“
And you know what else?”
Stephen asked, trying to keep things upbeat. “Tim can play
anything, go on, name a song.”

I stared at them blankly.
I couldn’t name a song to save my life. But more importantly, I
didn’t want to. If Tim played his guitar again I might just break
the damn thing.

Stephen grew worried
seeing my stony expression, but just then Francesca arrived,
strolling into the office. He beamed, as if the world was saved.
“Name a song,” he said to Francesca.

Distractedly looking up
from thumbing her smartphone, Francesca’s gaze settled on Tim. “I’m
too sexy,” she answered without a moment’s hesitation, eyes still
locked on the Aussie.

Real subtle.

Five minutes later and she
was perched on Tim’s armrest, listening while he plucked the
strings. I didn’t for a second believe she would throw Conner over
for a transient motel dweller. Francesca just liked pretty things,
and she liked the attention even more.

Stephen was always
fascinated by her, though she never strung him along, treating him
more like a younger brother or casual friend than anything. And Tim
was pleased by his pretty audience. I watched them interact,
breaking down the dynamic to entertain myself.

Being an empath, I knew
that socializing was a self-satisfying activity. The observation
that each person was just waiting for their turn to talk always
proved true. Stephen enjoyed hanging out with Tim and Francesca
because it made him feel mature. Francesca was comforted by the
affirmation that she was desirable and liked. And Tim was an
extrovert through and through, needing company, thriving on it.
Alone he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. They were all
getting something out of it, little parasites come to
feast.

Alright, so that was a bit
cynical. I wasn’t always like this. Before falling into the well I
was a social butterfly, and I didn’t examine why friends and
parties made me happy. They just did, and things were easier then.
But I didn’t fit so well into my old mold, and when Tim tried to
wave me over (Stephen and Francesca knew not to bother) I ignored
him, staying walled up behind the high counter, tucked behind my
desk, watching them have fun.

That was where Elaine
found me. She strode into the office, pushing the door open so hard
it slammed into the wall, blinds shushing back and forth from
impact. Her eyes instantly honed in, as if she’d cased the joint
and knew where I’d be sitting.

I straightened up,
watching her approach. She was wearing a babydoll dress, the hem
skimming her thighs. The fabric was rich red, just a few shades
darker than her hair, the blush color complimenting her creamy
exposed skin. I hated that she had found me at work, and yet I was
grateful too. I didn’t want Lucas seeing her this way, sexy and
feminine.

“
Follow me outside,” she
said, voice low and husky. “You don’t want them to hear what I have
to say,” she added, glancing back at Francesca, Stephen and
Tim.

The strumming had stopped,
and they were all checking her out, even Francesca, especially
Francesca. My friend wasn’t used to being upstaged.

“
I
don’t want to hear what you have to say,” I
answered, unwilling to follow her lead. Elaine’s confidence was
strong, reminding me of Reed, and she expected me to snap
to.

“
Fine,” she said,
annoyance carefully hidden. “Lucas is not himself. He’s so
distracted by your relationship that he’s not interested in my
help, or even questioning the obvious. But I am, and I know what
you are.”

She couldn’t mean...

“He’s all wrapped up in your feelings,” she
continued. “But don’t fool yourself, the moment I break the curse
he won’t need you. We have history, years together, I know him
better than anyone. We. Belong. Together. So do yourself a favor
and break things off before you get in too deep. The sooner the
better, Lucas needs my help.” She stared down at me, feeling
victorious, waiting for my sniveling response.

“If you’re not here to rent a room then get
out,” was all I said, my face blank as a slate. I didn’t want to
tip her off to the facts: I didn’t have a clue what she was on
about, but I knew enough to be worried.

“
He loved me,” she said,
wanting to draw blood. “He can’t love you, not really.” And with
that she left, gliding over the cheap carpet and out the
door.

“
What was that about?”
Francesca asked, feathers ruffled and angry on my
behalf.

“
That was Elaine, Luke’s
ex. She wants him back,” I explained, knowing that part was
obvious.

“I recognize her, she’s staying at the
Crowne.” Francesca sent me a sharp smile, ruby lips beautiful and
cruel. “It’ll be the worst time of her life,” my friend
promised.

Tim kept Stephen and
Francesca entertained for a few hours more, regaling them with
tales from his time down under. He was a surfer (talk about a
stereotype) and had more than his fair share of shark encounters
(if the stories were true). I suspect at least one of those fins
had belonged to a dolphin.

Stephen eventually left,
it being his time to get elbow-deep in toilets, and Tim trailed him
out. Francesca finally got around to the point of her visit. She
knew better than to fuss, but she did check me over, making sure I
was alright.

I didn’t tell her that
after the horrific events, which I refused to discuss, I went home
and got laid. She would be mad at me for keeping it from her. But
it was... private. Or meant to be private, stupid
Elaine.

All alone in the office I thought things
would finally settle down. But like I said, that shift was a train
wreck, one crash after another.

Ring.

Ring.

“Sterling’s Motel, how may I help you?”

“Hello, Adelaide.”

I hung up.

Ring.

“What!” I yelled into the phone.

“Don’t be petulant,” Reed said. “We have
things to discuss.”

“
Sure,” I said. “How about
we discuss Raina Thompson, and how you sent her to break into my
house. ‘I took care of it,’ you told me afterwards. What a joke,
you orchestrated the whole thing!”

Reed made a noise; I had
no idea what it meant. My gift required proximity, so I hadn’t a
clue about his emotions. His gift was also altered by the phone,
becoming somewhat diluted. The only charm that washed through the
line came from his buttery smooth voice, but that was nothing to
the complete punch of Reed Wallace. I easily ignored the tug in my
stomach, the little flip that made me want to pull him through the
cord and hold him close.

His silence was easy to fill. “She was going
to let Beagban kill me! How could you hire that woman?”

“
It may appear backwards,
but my actions will only ensure your protection,” he said sounding
sure. “It’s better to have her on our side rather than fighting
against us. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“
On our side? You sent her
to break into my house, you patronizing asshole!”

“As much as I enjoy hearing your righteous
indignation, Adelaide, this isn’t the reason I called.”

“Uh, I think you skipped the apology part,”
I said, uninterested in his change of subject.

Of course he ignored me.
“Your local police got an anonymous tip informing them of a body.
The remains were found, along with some incriminating evidence and
two injured men. The one, ah, what was his name?” Reed remembered
perfectly, he just wanted to torture me. “William Shrader, yes,
William is in a comma, he suffered head trauma and may never wake
up. The other man, Edward Marks, well his injuries were not so
severe, and when questioned, he sang like a bird. Interesting story
that.”

My breath huffed out,
tension replacing it. I honestly hadn’t worried about the fallout.
I didn’t think on what Smith had done to his murderers, I didn’t
care. And if they survived, they surely wouldn’t mention me to the
authorities. Being an intended victim, my say wouldn’t help them
any.

I obviously hadn’t thought
things through. Marks had talked, not surprising really. He was
weak. And this call meant my involvement had been called into
question. I already knew that Reed kept a source at the Brunswick
Police Department who he paid to keep tabs and who knew what else,
obviously they had been prompt, tipping him off in time to keep me
out of trouble.

I remained silent, unwilling to ask, but
needing to know.

“
It’s the same old story
really,” Reed said sounding bored. “Greed leads to murder. They
have some sort of tape to prove it, as if the body wasn’t proof
enough. An easy case, not like your typical homicide. There’s just
one question left to answer—who made the anonymous call? Marks
mentioned some red-head, but he was cagey on the details. The
police would have questioned him further, but they lost
interest.”

Lost interest, yeah
sure.

“Well,” he said after a long, drawn out
moment. “Explain yourself.”

Seeing as he’d likely
bribed a few people on my behalf I probably owed him an
explanation, but I would sooner choke on it than spill my secrets.
“It’s a nice story. Gruesome, but a happy ending never goes amiss.
What of the body? Do they know his identity yet?”

“
His
?”

“I just assumed—”

“Adelaide,” Reed said, cutting through my
lie. “Are you in trouble?” He sounded very serious.

“
I can take care of
myself,” I answered. “Just ask Raina.”

“
Yes,” he said sounding
grim, “very mature.”

“Well, I’ve got to go. Some of us actually
work, you know,” I told the billionaire business mogul.

“This conversation isn’t over.”

“Uh, I think it is.”

The phone was almost in its cradle when I
heard his parting words; they came out thinly through the line. He
said, “We’ll finish it sooner than you think.”

And still my night wasn’t over.

Missy’s arrival heralded
the end of my shift. It also meant I had to put up with her, even
for just five minutes was asking a lot. She’d painted the center of
her lips orange, a little rosebud mouth, the corners covered over
in concealer. Her eyebrows were shadowed black, thick caterpillars
that hung over her eyes like rain clouds. I didn’t mind a little
diversity, but jeez that girl was weird.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked, sugar
sweet.

I didn’t say anything.

“
I was really worried
about you,” she lied. “Ben was so angry when you didn’t show up, I
thought he’d fire you for sure.” She looked at me, feeling
hopeful.

No such luck, I still had
my job.

“
You must have been really
sick,” she went on. “I’m lucky I guess. I’ve never been too sick to
call off work.”

I fished my keys from my purse and left, not
bothering to say a word. Sparring with her didn’t interest me.

It was time to go home. The only thing I’d
wanted this morning was for it to be evening so I could see Lucas
again. But after Elaine’s visit, her words still skipping through
my brain on repeat, thoughts of Lucas no longer excited me.

They worried me.

What was going on?

And did I really want to
know?

The house was empty when I got home. I
called for Smith and made kissy noises to attract the ghost dog,
but neither appeared. A niggling worry set in, but I brushed it
off. Smith had disappeared for days at a time before, it was a
ghost thing. He was probably at Stephen’s house, waiting for the
moment when his family learned the truth.

I debated what to make for
dinner, kicking off my shoes as I puttered around the kitchen. Luke
would grill me something, steaks maybe. I stopped what I was doing
and went to the medicine cabinet, hurrying to gulp down some
NyQuil. If I got drowsy and dropped directly into bed then I
wouldn’t have to see him. Not that I didn’t want to see Lucas. I
just didn’t want to... question everything, but Elaine had made it
inevitable.

Wanting to duck away from
my thoughts I went into the closet, pulling out Demidov’s diary.
There was a crumpled piece of paper in the fuse box with it. I
recognized Smith’s blocky handwriting, and for a second I was very
happy. But all it said was
Dusty
Antiques
. I didn’t know what it meant
or when he’d written it. I sat on the floor, thinking it
over.

Dusty Antiques.

Dusty Antiques.

Why did that sound familiar?

I folded the note and put
it in my pocket, thinking it would come to me, and if not I’d just
mull it over later. Then I cracked open the diary, realizing I was
almost to the end.

Summoning the demonkind
has been ritualized, mostly from ignorance. Circles of salt.
Chanting and spells. Sacrifice. The truth is anyone can call a
demon. All that is required is the creature’s name. I had learned
this, learned about the veil that separates us and their need for a
mortal’s invitation, yet the more I called upon Raulriechmydl, the
more I made up my own little rites. You see, these beings were
cleverer than I could comprehend. When I first called him into my
home, his eyes skimmed over my belongings, taking note of each and
every little thing. He was learning me, learning my weaknesses, how
he could exploit me. And he did, manipulating me with ease. So I
stopped calling him into my personal space, emptying my basement to
bare walls, exposed beams, and concrete floors. I painted my own
circle, a ten foot wide diameter of red. I commanded him to stay
inside the lines, removing some of his control and leverage. You
see, the demons we call are accountable to us, following our
commands as we are their hosts on this side of the veil. But that
capacity only extends so far, and the line marking its beginning
and end can blur, a dangerous pitfall. A summoner can make
requirements of a demon, stay here, go there, but the moment he
asks for more, wanting to take a demon’s knowledge for his own,
that is when the negotiations begin. From experience I can report
the dangers of this, can confess my fear and regret, and yet, as
much as I would like to, I cannot deny the allure of demon dealing.
That seductive essence of power can drown a man.