Out of Body (23 page)

T
his Marley Millet was a spoiler. She wouldn’t bring him down; that wasn’t possible. He would find and deal with her.

But there was a fitting irony in this new battle with the Millets. Marley couldn’t have been pitted against him by accident. This was someone’s deliberate plan to destroy him by using a descendant of the very family that had caused the long-ago woman-Embran to return to her species with a disease they had never been able to cure.

That woman-Embran who married a Millet in Belgium had been blamed for dire threats to the safety of that family. It was after her return to the Lower Place that the Embrans first encountered bodily decay. They had learned how to renew themselves through the contents of their own un-hatched eggs, but the results were temporary, a mere hundred or so years’ reprieve, and they wanted their immortality back.

He had been allowed to come to the surface of the earth after others of his kind had visited but failed to find an antidote to the plague. Now he knew what he could not have before—discovering what the Millets had used on the Embrans could take many visits, especially when there were so many luscious diversions to enjoy in the meantime.

He wanted to hiss, to aim his face at the black sky that was his friend and rattle his jaws until he drowned out every
other night sound and left the human vermin in this city too terrified to leave the perceived safety of their homes.

Yet they had no safe defense over an enemy they did not know and who could strike wherever he pleased.

The Millet woman had barged in where she had no right to be. The deepest most disturbing question was, how had she obtained information she shouldn’t have? What had led her to find him?

Who?

He dragged himself over a thick layer of gravel at the bottom of the tunnel only he had ever used. Fleeing that warehouse, he had injured himself. The woman’s fault again. She had interfered. Harm was not supposed to happen to one such as he and there would be retribution for this inconvenience.

Many times he had come through this tunnel to pursue his pleasures. Tonight, for the first time ever, he knew the kind of fear only anger could produce. He had been betrayed by someone who should be too afraid to cross him, and when he discovered the identity of his betrayer, he would grind their bones to dust.

If he had to, he would cut a path of death across New Orleans, searching for his enemies. Afterward he would have to withdraw to Embran, deep in the earth, perhaps for longer than these little people could fathom. And when all those who could get in his way were gone or forgotten here, he would fight all comers in Embran for the right to come back and reclaim the fruits he had earned.

There would be those in the Lower Place who would blame him, try to have him demoted for failing to find a cure for their eventual decay, but he had his cover ready. Alone, he had developed a means of staving off total disintegration of the Embran form for short periods—long enough to get one of them home if the need became dire.

He had already tested his prototype and prepared a small stash.

He resented his need for air. Breathing slowed him down. Next time he came back to this part of his reality with its toothsome fleshly prizes, he must increase his efforts not to need any of the elements the weaklings used
.

But he wasn’t ready to leave yet, oh, no. First he must finish with the fools who thought they could stop him, but even that had to wait until he knew if the unthinkable had happened and the one object he must have had been stolen
.

The way was too long. Once he had been able to rush to the small but perfect white pavilion, sometimes every few weeks when the hunting was exceptional. He had taken his victims there to enjoy. Some years had passed since then and his precious antidote was losing its power to sustain him
.

He reached the steps at the end of the tunnel, worked his way upward and outside. The pavilion stood before him and he turned his head from side to side to bring the walls into clear focus. Here, too, there were signs of aging. Moss clung, and the surfaces had darkened. None of it would do
.

Heaving, he fought for calm. If he could hang on a few more days he would be finished with what must be done before he returned to his source of renewal and strength—to Embran
.

Just a few more days.

He pulled himself up, stair by stair, to the door of his sanctum and strained to clamp onto a recessed handle. With renewed vigor, he used the small onyx key that was the only means of entry.

The door closed behind him automatically. In the center of a single room draped with diaphanous, many-colored silks and lined with gilded divans, an enameled cabinet stood on a carved table.

He allowed himself a sneer of glee. Shuffling, reaching, trembling in his haste, he touched the chest and tapped the jade and mother-of-pearl inlay. A beautiful thing fit to contain his most precious possession.

The other end of the onyx key slipped easily into a lock that released double doors. They swung open.

On a black velvet bed inside, an image shimmered, a memory of what should have been there.

He recoiled.

As he had desperately feared, the red doll house that was his only escape to his own world was no longer in its place.

He stared at the wavering, transparent representation of his very being—and his salvation—and slid soundlessly to the floor. There was only one course of action now. He would set about repossessing his property—by whatever means necessary.

From the folds of his robe, he brought out the tiny scrap of black cotton that had clung to one of his claws when he had struck out at Marley Millet. Holding the fabric to his brow, he crawled onto a divan and opened his inner eye.

He concentrated, searching for the channel that would take him to her.

“B
arefoot in the park,” Marley said. She smiled up at Gray although she could scarcely see his face in the darkness.

Hand-in-hand they walked in the damp grass behind the house at Myrtle Wood. Here and there a bird flew up, startling Marley.

She and Gray had left their shoes on the gallery. Nat should arrive shortly and they intended to be as collected as possible when they saw him.

“The grass feels good,” Gray said. “And so do you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “It feels as if we’re stealing time.”

“We are. But we deserve it. I could be wrong, but my gut tells me we’re about to go into high gear. Mad gear. Does a scuffle in a cupboard mean anything to you? Could be a cupboard, a pantry or who knows what. And a lot of flailing down some stairs. Or am I starting to make up some of what I think I see?”

Marley pulled him to face her. “It means something, Gray.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Remember yesterday, when I said I saw Liza before I was in the warehouse? There was a cupboard where Liza was—a big one like a storeroom. We went through it and down wooden stairs before the man…”

“Before the man what?”

She wanted to shut that out. And she wanted to think about how the transference was happening between her and Gray—and if there was some way they could make these connections work for them.

“Marley?”

“He attacked Liza.”

“You saw this?”

She opened her mouth to breathe. “I was inside Liza. My mind was inside hers. I saw through her eyes, or what she could see at the bottom of a blindfold.”

“Oh, my God.”

“We need to hurry or Nat will get here and we’ll be wandering around the lawn,” Marley said, walking faster.

“Did he—”

“Please. Don’t push. It can’t be changed now. Do you hear an engine?” She paused to listen. “A great big engine. Who can that be?”

Gray followed her up the steps to the gallery. “It can be Nat Archer in his black Corvette. His baby. Let’s keep going. If it’s someone else, I don’t want him walking up on us while we’re sitting.”

“Why?”

He carried on toward the side of the house and Marley followed. “Let’s just say I’m into making sure I’ve got every advantage available. Between being looked up at and looked down on, there’s no contest about where the advantage is.”

“Hmm,” she said, and speeded her steps to keep up with him. Evidently she would always be at an extreme disadvantage.

“Sure enough,” Gray said when they got to the front. “One flashy black money sink. He loves that car.”

“We all have things that are important to us. I think for a lot of men, a car takes the place of a wife or children. In a very general way.”

“Nat loves a woman a hell of a lot more than he loves that car,” Gray said. “I hope you meet Wazoo one day. She’s something. Doesn’t come to New Orleans often. And before you start with the questions, I don’t know why they haven’t taken things farther. Nat’s a city cop, Wazoo’s a country witch. I guess they’re having problems working out the logistics.”

Marley laughed and clung to his sleeve. “Country
witch?
”

““I’m serious,” he said. “Now you get serious. And never mention Wazoo to Nat unless he does first. Which won’t happen. Maybe if you know him four or five years, you’ll meet her.”

She chortled. “I want to.”

Nat had bent down and his head and upper body were invisible from the back of his car. When he emerged, he carried several paper sacks.

“Hey,” Gray called.

Nat searched for Gray and Marley and nodded when he saw where they were. “Shall I come up there?”

“Why not? Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“No one around?” Nat asked.

“Not a soul.”

“It won’t get better than that.”

Nat jogged up the steps and fell in with Gray and Marley as they started toward the back of the house again.

They got to the table and chairs, where the citronella flames threw long tongues of shadow and light. Gray waved Nat to the chair Sidney had used then sat down with Marley beside him.

“What’s in the bags?” Marley asked. She had never mastered patience.

“Things I want to show you,” Nat said. He slid forward on the seat of his chair and laced his fingers behind his neck. “Your turn first. You called me, remember?”

“We should probably have come in to you,” Gray said. “Now we’re all here, I don’t know why we didn’t do that.”

“Because we need neutral ground where we’ve got a chance at clear heads and no interruptions,” Nat said.

Marley decided she liked the way Nat thought. “And this is a haunted place,” she said. “That can be helpful.” She brought her lips carefully together.
What would make her admit to something they couldn’t possibly understand?

“If you say so.” At least Nat didn’t laugh at her.

“I just meant the place has that reputation and it’s kind of…well, you know. It’s a thoughtful place.”

“Yeah,” Gray said. “There’s a little wine left if you want it, Nat.”

Nat declined and made no comments about why they might be out here drinking wine together.

“I’m going to tell you things you’ll have every right to question,” Marley said. “A lot of it is beyond understanding when you don’t have any background in paranormal events and the way they can happen with some subjects. Will you hear me out? Then we’ve got to talk about a suggestion that was made to us tonight.”

“I like to listen with my eyes closed,” Nat said, doing just that. “I’m wide-awake in here.”

Marley tried to start at the beginning. When she talked about a portal, she didn’t mention the Chinoiserie house and when she glanced at Gray he showed no change of expression.
“You understand why I’ve got to keep that back,”
she thought.

“Yes.”

Startled, she looked at him again and found him watching her with the same kind of shocked awareness she felt.

“I’ve never communicated this way with anyone outside my family before, Gray.”

“What does it mean? Tell me—”
He frowned and she felt the channel close.

He held her hand and she didn’t immediately realize he’d done so with Nat there. They both looked at the detec
tive whose eyes were still shut. They kept their tingling fingers together.

“Then, after I left your office the last time, I was so confused about what to do. I went home and Gray went with me.”

She brought Nat up to date, all but Sidney’s not very subtle suggestions.

“So you came out here this evening because Sidney Fournier asked you to?” Nat said. He slitted his eyes and this time he did give the wine bottle and glasses a long look.

Marley said, “She didn’t expect me to be here,” and giggled when Gray pinched her fingers.

“Gray always did like someone reliable watching his back.” Nat’s teeth were very white when he smiled. “He’s got good taste in that department and I’m sure you could make mincemeat of any bad guys or women.”

She bowed her head. “So, now you think I’m completely crazy,” she said. “And it probably doesn’t matter what Sidney had to say because you don’t believe a word from me.”

“I believe every word from you,” Nat said.

Gray’s grip on her hand tightened.

“You do?” Marley said.

“I don’t know what happened in that warehouse yet. Not for sure. But something did and you saw it. I’ve got to believe the rest. What do you say, Gray?”

“I’m a believer.”

“Sidney told us Amber had already left Danny before she disappeared,” Marley said. “She said their relationship was already over.”

Nat opened his eyes and sat up. He only gave their joined hands passing notice. “No shit. No kidding, that is.”

She shook her head. “That’s what she told us.”

He started to get up. “I’ll have her brought in. Danny, too.”

“You think that’s for the best?” Gray said.

“No.” Nat settled back in his chair. “Knee-jerk. But I’ll have Danny watched starting now. He looked me in the eye
and lied. You’d have thought the church bells were already warming up for those two.”

“He needs to get his story straight,” Marley said. “At first he tried to pretend Amber didn’t return his feelings. Then he let it out that they were close.”

“And now there’s another take,” Nat said. He made a call and gave succinct orders. “I take it Sidney had some story about why she wouldn’t talk to us—to the police?”

“She said she was afraid.” Gray paraphrased Sidney’s conversation.

“I was going to tell you we’re pretty sure Amber doesn’t have a kid,” Nat said.

“Figures,” Gray said. “How much longer will it be before you can get some preliminary DNA results back on Shirley Cooper?”

Nat hesitated. He cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Damn, I wish they were faster. It could change everything about the case.”

“Will you look at these for me, Marley?” Nat said, not responding to Gray’s last comment. “I know I can’t expect too much, but it’s what I was talking to you about in my office. The things that belonged to Liza, Amber and Shirley.”

Marley came close to telling him again that she’d never worked with objects like this. Nat was lumping all paranormal gifts together and coming up with something resembling the type of stuff they put on TV series about psychics.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Gray said when Nat put a silk scarf on the table, and a pair of gloves. “Marley doesn’t do party tricks.”

She was grateful to him, but sorry for Nat, who was doing his best to be open.

“I know that,” Nat said. “But it does happen that touching something belonging to someone can bring about an impres
sion of that person, doesn’t it? It can be helpful in locating them.” He looked with hope at Marley.

“I’ve heard it can, yes.”

Nat didn’t miss her noncommittal response. “You don’t think there’s anything in it?”

“I don’t know.” She had to be honest.

They fell silent. Critters in the grass and nearby shrubs tuned up like they were getting ready for a rock concert.

Nat reached into one of the bags and retrieved some sort of hat made of draped and embossed mauve satin. “I won’t say who this belongs to, but will you hold it?”

She rubbed the spot between her brows. The start of a headache threatened to make this a hard night. “Yes.” Marley took the turban from him.

“I don’t like this,” Gray said.

“Say something unexpected,” Nat retorted.

“Please be quiet,” Marley said. “Both of you.”

Marley tried to sit comfortably. She began to shiver. A breeze gained strength and her flimsy white dress frothed around her calves.

The soft, satiny turban slipped between her fingers. Where the fabric was embossed, the texture felt rougher. Marley looked at the shimmer on the satin, at the shadowy lines where the folds settled. She let her eyelids lower and went into neutral. With her mind wide-open, she invited any response to come in.

Time passed and she felt peaceful. She also felt nothing unusual and saw no inkling of a portal, and heard no whisper from an Usher.

“You know better than to try putting on shows.”

Sykes was back. She deliberately ignored him.

“If you’re short of money, maybe I can help you out.”

“What does that mean?”
She felt snappy.

“I leave you to your own devices and you get into the entertainment business? When do you pass the hat?”

“I’m not even answering you.”

A change in shadows along the balcony railings carried Marley’s attention in that direction. Flickering in and out, she saw the suggestion of her brother, wearing black tonight and looking vaguely demonic.

“Watch out for Gray,”
Marley said.

“Oh, yes, little sister. I’m watching. He won’t get in on anything from me, but you better watch yourself. When you’re in lust with someone your judgment could get clouded.”

“That’s it,”
Marley said.
“You can report back to Uncle Pascal that I’m cool. Thanks. Bye.”

He sat on the balcony railing with an arm around a slender column.

Marley set the turban on the table. “Nothing from this, Nat. I tried, but I don’t feel anything. I’m sorry.”

“How about this?” He gave her the gloves. They were black, crocheted and fingerless.

“I like them,” Marley said, trying unsuccessfully to see the pattern. “They look old.”

“They probably are. Feel anything?”

She didn’t. Going from one item to another she grew tired and irritable.

“Give it up,” Gray said.

Nat’s phone rang. “Archer,” he answered. “When? You know her?”

Marley quit breathing.

“Friend Danny has a new lady love,” Nat said, slipping the phone away. “They were pretty cozy when they went into Danny’s place a few minutes ago and Danny didn’t seem to be looking upset over anything. That’s probably unimportant. The guys are just looking for something to report.”

Marley didn’t say anything and Gray got up. He walked to the railing and stood there looking out over the dark grounds. He also stood right in front of Sykes, whom Marley could see grinning at her. Gray’s hand rested on
top of Sykes’s on the column, a fact Sykes obviously found humorous.

“We’ve got to wonder if we should be worrying about any woman being alone with Danny,” Gray said. “I always liked the guy, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Surely doesn’t,” Nat said. “But we can’t do anything unless there’s a complaint. Other than keep an eye on Danny.”

Sykes looked into Gray’s face as if he was looking for something.

Watching her brother unnerved Marley.

“Thanks for coming, Sykes. I’d appreciate it if you’d bug out now. I’ll make contact if I need you,”
she said.

“Is that a promise? ”

“Yes.”

“Okay. He’s good-looking.”
He ought to know when he was an inch from Gray’s face.
“He could be interesting to sculpt. What does he look like with his clothes off?”

“Good night, Sykes.”

“Night. See you soon.”