Incubus (66 page)

Try as I might to push Seth’s words out of my mind, they stayed with me all day. I found myself

watching Lucas at lunch, trying to spot any signs of revulsion or fear. Once, he caught me staring and

gave me a faintly bemused smile. I glanced at Seth, who was talking animatedly with Cassie across

the table. Lucas followed my gaze, then turned back to me.

“It’s nothing,” I said in answer to his unasked question. Before he could call me out, I turned my

attention to Cassie.

“I’ve got a few more things to do, but it’s ready for a fitting today,” she was telling Seth.

“Which costume is this?” I asked, forcing enthusiasm into my voice.

“It’s one of Guinevere’s dresses, the one she’s wearing when she meets Lancelot. You want to

see?” Cassie looked suddenly hopeful. “Will you come over today after school? I’d love to show it to

you; you haven’t seen any of the stuff I’ve been working on lately.”

I felt a twinge of guilt for being so absent from Cassie’s life. “I’d love to,” I said, and this time my

enthusiasm wasn’t faked. I could feel Lucas watching me, but I spent the rest of lunch engaging Cassie

in stories about what it was like to be a costume designer.

After school, I walked into the performing arts building. There were posters along the walls from

former musicals and concerts. From some rooms I could hear violins or horns running scales. At the

end of a long hallway, I found the heart of the theater program—the green room.

Cassie and Royal were sitting on an old worn couch, talking and laughing with some kids I didn’t

know. Cassie jumped up when she saw me.

“Braedyn,” she said, “you’re here! Come on.” Cassie led me back down the hall to a set of double

doors. “This is the costume closet,” she said, opening one of the doors.

Closet
was a bit of an understatement. It was massive—at least the size of a classroom. Shelves

and racks lined the walls from the floor to the high ceiling 20 feet above us. The floor in the back half

of the room was crowded with rolling racks of clothes, but the front of the room featured a huge

worktable piled with bolts of fabric, buckets of tape measures, pencils, scissors, and stick pins. It

looked like Cassie’s personal heaven.

A dress form stood next to the table, and I recognized Cassie’s work instantly. A shimmering, pale

grey velvet gown hugged the dress form snuggly to the waist, then the creamy velvet spilled down in

gleaming folds of fabric that just barely kissed the ground.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. It was true. The gown was perfect, delicate, pure. “I want to get

married in that dress.”

Cassie giggled, pleased. “It’s not totally finished,” she said. “I can’t put the trim on until I’ve

hemmed everything up for—oh! Here she is!”

I turned as Missy bounded into the costume closet. “Where is it?” she asked eagerly. I don’t think

she even saw me standing there.

Cassie gestured at the dress, beaming. Missy squealed when she saw the gown. She threw her arms

around Cassie. “You are a genius, Cassie!” Finally, Missy noticed me. “Oh, Braedyn.”

“You’re in the play?” I asked.

“She’s the star,” Cassie said.

“Well,” Missy lowered her eyes, pleased. “It’s really Arthur and Lancelot’s show. I’m just the eye

candy.”

Cassie hit Missy lightly on the arm. “That is so not true,” she said, turning to me. “She’s got an

amazing voice.”

Missy tipped her head down, letting the red curls cascade around her features to hide the pretty

blush spreading across her cheeks. “Thanks, but we all know who the most talented lady of this

production is.” Missy threw an arm around Cassie’s shoulders and grinned at me. “Right, Braedyn?”

A tight knot of jealousy worked its way into my stomach. I tried to push it aside. Cassie was one of

my best friends in the world, but I didn’t own her. Of course she had other friends.

“Absolutely,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

Royal arrived at that moment, carrying a huge box. “Delivery for Miss Ang,” he said.

“Put it on the table,” Cassie said. She pounced on the box with a pair of scissors. When she had it

opened, she pulled out a deep blue material. It had a luxurious sheen, but was shot through with the

rougher strands distinctive of raw silk. “Very nice,” she said with satisfaction.

“Is this the material for the outer dress?” Missy breathed. At Cassie’s nod, Missy practically

swooned. “I wish we could dress like this every day.”

“Yeah, to heck with Women’s Lib,” I said. “Who needs pants?” Cassie and Missy looked at me. I

cleared my throat, feeling awkward.

Royal perched on the worktable, eyeing me. “Look who decided to visit.” He still wore the

skullcap everywhere, but he wasn’t tugging on it self-consciously anymore.

After an awkward moment, Cassie turned to lift the dress off the dress-form. “Try it on?” she

asked Missy.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Missy took the dress and slipped out of the costume closet to go

change.

“So,” I said, turning to Royal. “How’s it going?”

“It’s grueling, but I think I could get used to this assistant gig,” Royal said. Cassie snickered.

Apparently I was missing out on a joke.

Cassie saw my confusion and explained. “His duties as my assistant basically consist of sitting

around and keeping me company.” Cassie grinned at Royal. “But yes, he is really good at it.”

“You should join us,” Royal said. “As you can see, there’s plenty of room in the closet for all of

us. And no, the irony is not lost on me.”

Cassie giggled and I smiled. It was the three of us again, like it used to be. A sudden rush of

nostalgia flooded through me. I missed this. I missed Royal and Cassie.

The door opened behind us again. Mr. Hart entered. “Cassie, Missy looks incredible. Sometimes I

can’t believe you’re only 16. You’ve got the skills of a master craftsman, kid.” Cassie’s face lit up

with pride—and something else.

Mr. Hart noticed her look and spotted me. “Hello, there. Another volunteer for the production?”

“Who, me? No,” I said.

“Braedyn’s just visiting,” Cassie said. Was I imagining the disappointment in her voice?

“Ah,” Mr. Hart gave me a pained smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’s

a liability thing for the school. If you’re not here for the production...” he left the rest unsaid.

“Oh.” I glanced at Cassie and Royal. “Right.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Mr. Hart turned his back on me and went to join Cassie at the table.

She smiled up at him warmly, turning away from me.

I walked to the door and hesitated. Most of the girls in the greenroom looked up expectantly, their

eager smiles fading into disappointment when they saw it was just me. One or two shot wistful looks

at the door to the costume closet behind me, while another pair slumped onto the greenroom couch,

disgruntled. Because I wasn’t Mr. Hart.

I turned to look back into the costume closet. Unease prickled at the back of my neck. It crowded

out the jumble of emotions in my mind. Piece by piece, it all fell into place. Mr. Hart with his easy

good looks and charm, winning over the female population of Coronado Prep in one lunch

announcement. Cassie, throwing herself into this production to the exclusion of almost everything

else, straining to win these precious words of praise from him. He worked at school. How hard would

it be for him to slip something into Cassie’s locker? Even if someone saw, they’d assume it was a note

about costume design or the production.

As if sensing my thoughts, Mr. Hart glanced back at me. “Don’t worry, Braedyn. Your friends will

still be here tomorrow.” His smile was a clear dismissal.

I walked out of the costume closet, down the hallway, and out into the crisp October air. Only

when I reached my car did I allow myself to name my fear.

Was it possible? Was Mr. Hart the incubus?

Chapter 8

An amber glow spilled over the rough dining table from the aging pendant light. I fell silent, looking

around the table. The faces of the Guard were solemn as they processed what I’d said. Hale. Thane.

Gretchen. Dad. Lucas. Angela. Seth. No one spoke. I’d talked for over an hour, walking them through

my realization, laying out the evidence against Mr. Hart. By the time I’d finished, the sun had set,

shrouding the house in darkness save for this one light.

Thane glanced at Angela. She felt his gaze and nodded slowly, thinking. After another long

moment, she looked back at me.

“Did you sense anything about this man?” she asked. “As a Lilitu, I mean?”

Dad’s head whipped around.

Angela smiled a thin smile. “Yes, I know.” She glanced at Thane with reproach. “After my initial

shock, it became rather obvious that the benefits of working with a tame Lilitu,” and here she glanced

at me, “no offense, dear.”

“Sure,” I mumbled.

Seth, sitting across the table for me, blushed. “Sorry. I tell Mom everything.”

“The benefits,” Angela continued, “balance the potential risks.” She eyed me for a moment, then

glanced at Hale. Whatever she wasn’t saying seemed to grate on Dad’s nerves. Hale sensed Dad’s

mood and cleared his throat.

“You bring up a crucial point,” he said. “Braedyn, did you
see
anything about Mr. Hart that backs

up your concerns?”

“You mean,” I glanced at Gretchen. As a spotter, she was the only other one at this table who could

see the smoky wings or faint inky stain that surrounded a Lilitu when she was preying on a human.

“Would they exhibit the same markers?” Gretchen asked, voicing my thought for me.

Angela shrugged. “We have no way of knowing. The only account of an incubus we have in our

records is the story I’ve told you about the monks from the mission. They had no spotter with them.”

“Braedyn?” Dad asked.

“I didn’t see anything,” I admitted.

“Not even during lunch, when you claim he was enthralling the student body?” Thane asked. There

was an edge of accusation in his voice that rankled me. But the truth was, I hadn’t seen anything like

the fingers of shadow other Lilitu gave off when they were exerting their power. I shook my head no.

“Well.” Angela steepled her hands on the edge of the table. “That leaves us with two possibilities.

Either male Lilitu are capable of disguising themselves from female Lilitu when they don’t want to be

seen...” she shrugged. “Or Mr. Hart is not an incubus.”

“All right.” Hale nodded, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll keep an eye on him.” He smiled at me.

“Thanks for sharing your concerns with us, Braedyn. It’s good to be cautious.”

Hale pushed back from the table. The meeting was over.

“But,” I glanced around as everyone except for Dad and Lucas stood up. “That’s it? We’ll keep an

eye on him?”

Hale glanced at Dad. “Braedyn,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Until we know more, we

can’t really act.”

“But he’s,” I turned to Lucas for support. “My friends spend a lot of time with him. If they’re in

danger...?”

Thane frowned. “Yes.
If.
They’re only in danger
if
your suspicions are founded.”

“So we’re just supposed to wait for him to make a move?” I snapped. “Maybe once he’s attacked

Cassie you’ll believe me and we can do something?”

“Do you have another idea?” Hale asked.

“I... I could try searching for him in the dream,” I said. Why not? It was no challenge for me to

find a human dream, and when I went looking I’d found Karayan’s dream without too much trouble.

Maybe if I could slip into Mr. Hart’s dream I could find out whether or not he was a threat.

Seth looked at me, intrigued. “Could that work?”

“Interesting,” Thane murmured.

“Hang on,” Dad said. “We don’t know anything about this incubus.”

“If we’re going to remedy that, we should allow the girl to look for him,” Thane said.

“I’m not comfortable with this.” Dad’s brow creased with anxiety. “What if she tips him off?

What if he comes after her in retaliation?”

“I’ll be careful.”

“We don’t know what he’s capable of,” Dad said.

“We don’t know what I’m capable of, either,” I answered.

“It’s worth a shot,” Hale said. When Dad tried to argue, Hale held up a hand. “Braedyn, if you’re