Stone and a Hard Place (28 page)

CHAPTER FORTY

Stone knocked on Megan’s door promptly at 5:30. When she answered it, all he could do was stare.

“You look—amazing,” he said. And she did. She was a lot like him: she preferred casual clothes, but she could dress up with the best of them when she wanted. Her dress, black and shimmery, clung to her like a second skin, and she wore her stiletto heels with the same confidence as her usual sensible slip-ons. Her hair, usually worn long, was swept up in a graceful, elegant up-do that framed her face beautifully. “And you’re ready on time, too,” he added. “That makes you truly a rarity among women.”

She smiled, motioning him in. “Flatterer. You look pretty damn sexy yourself. If I’d known you looked that good in a tux, I’d have gotten you to take me to more formal affairs. Shame about the hair, though,” she said with a grin.

“Hey, I tried,” he protested. He had, too; it was just that his hair was every bit as stubborn as he was, and he felt that plastering it down too forcefully made him look like a nerd. “If you’re ready, though, we’d best be going—I don’t want to be late.”

“Well, early,” she pointed out. “But I’m not complaining.” She grabbed her little bag and wrap from a table near the door, then locked it behind her. “Are we picking up Ethan?” she asked as they drove off.

He shook his head, looking troubled. “No. He’s going to get up there himself.” He paused. “Megan—I called him this morning. His mum died Thursday afternoon.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Oh, no. That’s horrible.”

He nodded. “He didn’t even tell me until I called him to find out if he wanted me to pick him up.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed.

“You’re not making him go to this thing tonight, are you?”

“No. I told him I didn’t expect him to. I offered to help with anything he needed, but he said he was fine and that he wanted to come. Said it would take his mind off things.”

She glanced over at him. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, his jaw set. “You’re feeling guilty about something, aren’t you?”

He continued to watch the road. A light rain was falling, and the oncoming headlights made dazzling patterns in the droplets on the windshield. “He…wasn’t with her when she died. Because of me.”

“Because of you? What do you mean?”

“I had him up at Adelaide’s place searching through her attic with me for some information I wanted to find.” He spoke softly, his jaw still set tight.

She touched his arm. “Alastair, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know.”

“No,” he said. “I didn’t. But I did know she was ill.”

She sighed, as if knowing there was nothing she could say that would change his mind. Instead, she just squeezed his arm and said, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t reply.

The house was ablaze with festive lights that they could see from the road before they even reached the gate. They were still early, so they didn’t have to wait in a line of cars, but a few other early birds were already showing up. Uniformed teenagers with lightsticks waved them in, and a valet took charge of the car near the door. Megan, who had never seen Adelaide’s house before, gaped. “Wow,” she said. “You didn’t tell me your old lady lived in someplace
this
fancy.”

“Normally it doesn’t look quite this good,” he told her, taking her arm and escorting her up the steps to the front door. There, he showed their invitation to the doorman and they were bowed inside. “They’ve fixed it up quite a bit for the party. I’ve never seen all these lights before.”

“If I win the lottery, I’ll buy a place like this,” she said, stopping to gaze up in wonder at the twenty-foot-tall Christmas tree standing in the entry chamber. Another uniformed attendant took their coats and gave them claim checks. “And you can be my kept boy.”

Complete with ravening demon imprisoned in the basement?
“I’ll take that deal,” he said aloud with a wicked grin. “But trust me, you don’t want a place like this.”

Adelaide and Iona greeted them warmly from the dining room, where Stone introduced them to Megan. “You two make a lovely couple,” Adelaide said with a smile. “I do hope you’ll be able to enjoy yourselves tonight. Don’t spend all your time working. There’s no need, is there?”

“I just want to keep an eye on things,” Stone said. “But don’t worry. We’ll make sure to enjoy your hospitality.”

Tommy Langley came in then. Unlike Stone’s tuxedo, his fit like a rental and looked a bit like he’d slept in it, but he grinned when he saw Stone and Megan. “Oh look, it’s Beauty and the Beast. Good to see you, Megan. You look fantastic.”

Stone raised an eyebrow. “Hey now—I thought I was your date for the evening, Tommy.”

“I’ll share you,” Megan said, laughing. “But I get the first dance.”

Ethan arrived a few minutes later, shown into the room by one of the uniformed guides. He looked sad and preoccupied, still wearing his parka and carrying his backpack over his rumpled tuxedo. “Hi, Dr. Stone.” He waved in greeting to the others.

“Ethan, I was so sorry to hear about your mother,” Megan said kindly, soft enough so only he and Stone could hear.

“Thanks,” he mumbled without looking at her.

“Right, then,” Stone said, realizing that the last thing Ethan wanted right now was to be reminded about what he wanted to forget. “Ethan, if you’re feeling up to it, why don’t we head off and check things out before too many people start arriving. You can leave your stuff there if you like.”

Ethan nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Check what out?” Megan asked.

“We won’t be long,” Stone assured her. “Just some of the work we’re here to do. Back in fifteen minutes or so. Tommy, you’ll keep Megan company, won’t you?”

“With pleasure,” Langley said, grinning. “Come on, Megan, I’ll show you where the food and the bar are. Aunt Adelaide really went all out with the spread this year.”

Stone led Ethan downstairs, through the basement to the summoning room. “I’ve already checked it once today—just wanted to get a last look. I’ll probably come down again sometime tonight, but I want you to keep your eyes open—magical and mundane—and let me know if you see anything unusual, all right? Anything at all. If it looks odd, let me know right away.”

Ethan shrugged out of his parka and backpack and tossed them in a corner. “I will, Dr. Stone.”

Stone turned around, facing him. “Ethan,” he said, his voice gentle, “You really don’t need to be here if you don’t want to. I hope you don’t think I’m going to hold it against you or somehow think you’ve failed me if you’d rather be doing something else.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” he said, still looking at the floor. His eyes looked haunted in his pale face. “There really isn’t anything else I could be doing. I’d just be sitting home at the apartment. I’ve done enough of that already.”

“All right, if you’re sure,” Stone said. “But you have to promise that if you need anything or if you change your mind, you’ll let me know. If you want to leave, just tell me or leave word with someone before you go so I’ll know not to look for you.”

“I’ll do that.”

Stone nodded. “All right. Let’s take a look around here, then, and get back upstairs before Megan comes looking for us.”

Nothing had changed from the afternoon: the thing in the armoire still seemed to be sleeping, and all the reinforcements Stone had put into place were still undisturbed. He waved Ethan out, and they headed back up to the festivities.

By a little after seven o’clock, many of the guests had already arrived, and the areas designated for the ball were starting to feel comfortably crowded. Stone tracked Megan down and liberated her from Tommy, who was telling her a long-winded story about one of his students. They got drinks and circulated among the crowd.

“Have you noticed that we and Tommy are the youngest ones here?” Megan asked Stone after they’d made a slow circuit around the ballroom.

“By many years,” Stone agreed. It was true: most of the party’s guests were older, and many were quite elderly. The women all dripped with jewels that were almost certainly genuine, the men clad in classic, old-fashioned tuxedos and dinner jackets. There were a few younger guests, but even they were in their fifties.

“I guess those new computer billionaires I’ve been hearing about don’t get invited to things like this,” Megan said.

Stone raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps they were, and they just opted to make a donation. Seriously,” he added, glancing around, “I don’t think I’d be here if I wasn’t working, would you?” The band, warming up on the little bandstand he’d watched the workmen erecting this afternoon, were limbering up big-band style instruments. Not an electric guitar in sight.

“Well, it
is
a little slow,” she admitted. “Nice, though. Very old world.” She smiled at him. “It’s just nice being here with you, Alastair. We should do more formal things. It’s fun to play dress-up sometimes. And maybe later we can play dress
down,”
she added with a suggestive grin.

“Ah, something to look forward to.”

They continued circulating, sipping their drinks and greeting people as they went. As time went on and nothing horrible happened, Stone began to feel a bit more relaxed. Perhaps this evening would end up all right after all.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Some distance off in the forest, The Three stood watching the house.

“Look at all those fancy-ass cars,” Oliver said. “This thing’s bigger than I thought.”

“That’s good,” Miguel said. “It’ll make it easier for us to get in without being noticed.”

“Ethan said to go around back,” Trin said, pointing. “He said he’d meet us at eight near the back door on the west side of the house.”

“He better be there,” Oliver growled. “If he skips out on us—”

“He won’t,” Trin assured him. She began walking, careful not to trip over anything. “Damn these fucking shoes anyway.”

All three were dressed in evening clothes; Trin even wore long opera gloves to cover up her distinctive tattoos. They planned to use their blending spell to get inside, but wanted to be careful in case anyone spotted them. Oliver carried a leather bag containing some notes, ritual materials, and other gear. It also contained rope and a long, wicked-looking knife in a leather sheath.

“You think the kid’s come up with anything we can use?” Miguel asked.

Trin shrugged. “I don’t care at this point. If we don’t get its name, then we’ll just go with our other plan. Either way, it should work out fine.”

Oliver didn’t look so sure about that, but he didn’t voice his misgivings. In The Three, it never paid to go against what Trin had decided.

Inside, Ethan glanced at his watch. It was almost eight.
Almost time.

He lurked near the buffet table, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. A couple of the elderly people who’d come by had mistaken him for one of the caterers, and he was fine with that. If he could have blended into the walls he would have, but Stone hadn’t taught him that spell yet.

He knew that once he let The Three into the house, there was no going back. This was his last chance to back out. Was this really what he wanted to do? Is this what his mother would have wanted? He feared his attraction to Trin was clouding his judgment. He really should just go to Stone right now, tell him everything, and then try to start fresh once he’d had some time to recover from his grief. The mage had been kind and sincerely concerned about him, both on the phone and in person. Ethan didn’t doubt that both he and Megan genuinely wanted to help him.

But Trin did, too. She had also sounded shocked when he’d told her about Mom’s death. He didn’t resent the fact that she’d asked him to be here—he knew they needed him, and they wouldn’t be able to do what they were planning without him. She’d offered to talk to him afterward, and maybe talking to someone closer to his own age might be preferable. Less lecture, more understanding.

He picked up a plate and put a couple of hors-d’oeuvres and a chicken wing on it, nibbling as he agonized over what he should do. Glancing around, he almost hoped to see Stone coming in looking for him, but the mage was nowhere to be seen.

Five to eight.

He had to go now if he was going.

He bit into some sort of little sandwich thing and chewed; it tasted like cardboard and his mouth was suddenly dry. He thought of Stone, then of Trin.

He set the plate down on a nearby table, and headed for the back part of the house.

The Three had made it to the edge of the tree line at the back of the house, and now stood impatiently waiting, watching the door.

“The little twerp isn’t coming,” Miguel muttered.

“He’ll be here,” Trin said. “No way he’s gonna let me down.”

Oliver glanced around. “I hope they don’t have security patrols out here. If we’re spotted—”

“If we’re spotted, we’ll drain ‘em and hide their clothes,” Miguel said. His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was talking about what he wanted from the buffet. “Nobody’ll find the ashes.”

“We’re pretty topped up already,” Oliver pointed out. It had been a little early to go to a club for their usual shot of energy, so they’d hit a local mall and pulled power from the crowds of Christmas shoppers.

“We’ll need all that for the ritual,” Trina said. “Much as I like this sacrifice idea, it would be easier if we had—”

“Shh—look!” Miguel hissed, taking her arm and pointing.

The door was opening.

“That’s it,” Trin urged. “Go!”

Blending spell in place, they hurried across the open yard and slipped inside. Ethan stood there, looking breathless and miserable.

“Good job, Ethan,” Trin said, squeezing his shoulder. “How are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I’m okay, I guess.”

“Good. I’m really glad you decided to come help us out. This shouldn’t take long at all, then we can leave and go find someplace more private to hang out.”

Ethan nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Come on—let’s get this over with. Can you show us the place?”

“Yeah. Come on—this way.”

“Just act casual—nobody will pay attention to us as long as we don’t go through any crowds.”

Ethan tried not to look nervous as he led the three of them down the back hallways toward the kitchen. The sounds of the band and the low hubbub of people’s conversations filtered in from not far off, and every time he turned a corner he expected to run into a knot of partygoers—or worse, Stone, who would probably see right through The Three’s blending spell. Guilt racked him, and indecision. He still wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing.

Too late to turn back now…

They reached the kitchen without incident; a couple individuals returning from the bathrooms passed them, but those people just went by with a nod to Ethan and no indication that they thought anything was odd.

“Be careful here,” Ethan whispered to Trin. “The kitchen’s busy tonight.”

“Just keep going.”

He led them through and down the hall toward the basement door. He lingered there for a moment until he was sure nobody was watching, then quickly opened it and waved them through. He slipped in behind them and closed the door.

Trin immediately summoned a light spell. “Ugh, no lights?”

“No, they don’t work.”

Oliver dug in his leather bag and came up with a flashlight. “How far is it?”

“Just follow me,” Ethan said.

He’d only been down here a couple of times, but following his and Stone’s footprints in the dust on the floor, he was able to navigate them down the hallways and through the big room full of stacked furniture. “Holy shit,” Miguel breathed. “This old bat must be loaded. Look at the
size
of this place.”

“Be careful,” Ethan told them as he turned the corner to the narrow passage leading to the summoning room door. “That stuff’s stacked pretty high. Don’t bump anything.”

Oliver looked up, nervous. “This shit isn’t gonna fall on us, is it?”

“Hasn’t yet,” Ethan told him, picking his way over the corpse of the player piano. “But like I said, be careful.” He pulled on the bookcase and it slid open. “In here.”

They all crowded inside, with Ethan coming in last. He let the bookcase return to its closed position. “This is it.”

His statement was unnecessary. They all stood there, taking in the huge circle set into the floor, the bookcases and tables, and the armoire at the end of the room.

Oliver pointed at the ornate piece of furniture. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

“Can’t you tell?” Trin asked. She took a few steps closer, seemingly fascinated by the sight. She smiled, but it didn’t come close to her eyes. “Sit tight,” she told the thing in the armoire. “We’re here to let you out, just like you wanted.”

Behind her, Miguel smirked.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get this circle set up. Ethan, you said you had something for us?”

“Oh, right.” He’d almost forgotten about the stuff in his backpack. He hurried over to it, dug out the books and papers he’d shoved into it, and offered them to her. “I haven’t looked at them yet, but I hope they’re what you wanted.”

She took them, motioning for Oliver and Miguel to get to work setting up the circle. “Only one way to find out,” she said. She took them over to one of the candles Miguel had lit along the wall and began examining them.

Ethan, unsure of what to do, just loitered near the circle and watched the two other guys work. They were setting up candles, incense burners, and small items that looked uncomfortably like dried body parts, every once in a while pausing to consult a sheaf of papers.

“It’s great that this permanent circle is here,” Miguel said. “It makes things a lot faster. Otherwise this would take us at least an hour to set up.”

As it was, it only took about twenty minutes before they finished. There was a wide-open spot in the middle of the circle—the two of them cleared some books and papers off one of the tables, hefted it, and placed it there, parallel to the armoire.

“What’s that for?” Ethan asked. He’d been amusing himself watching the room with his magical senses; the thing in the armoire seemed to be waking up and taking an interest in its surroundings now. The light coming out of the crack pulsed in anticipation.

“Just for putting some of the stuff we need for the ritual,” Oliver told him. He moved over behind Ethan, toward the door. “Hey, Stone isn’t going to show up down here, is he?”

“He’s busy,” Ethan said. “I don’t think he’ll be down for a while.”

“We should be done by then. You getting anything out of that stuff, Trin?” Miguel asked. “We’re about ready here.”

She shook her head. “Nah, nothing. This is good stuff—I want to try some of these summonings later. But nothing about what we’re doing here.”

“Ah, well. Plan B, then,” Miguel said. He didn’t sound upset about it.

“What’s Plan B?” Ethan asked. And then he noticed something else. “Hey, why are there only three spots in the ritual circle? I thought you said you needed—”

Oliver grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back.

“What the hell?” he yelled, struggling. “What are you guys doing?”

Miguel smiled. “Don’t worry, kid—you’re about to find out exactly what Plan B is.” He reached into Oliver’s leather bag and pulled out the rope and the knife.

Ethan struggled harder, his eyes wild, but Oliver was much stronger than he was. “Trin!” he yelled, his terrified gaze locking on her. “What’s going on? Why are they doing this? Tell them to stop!”

She smiled. It wasn’t the beautiful, twinkle-eyed smile that had so captivated Ethan’s lust, but a snakelike grin more at home on Miguel’s face. “Sorry, kiddo,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess you picked the wrong side. But don’t worry—you’re going to be a big help for what we’re doing tonight. A really big help. And hey, cheer up—before too long, you’ll get to see your mommy again.”

Ethan screamed, but now the other two were there. Oliver clamped a hand over his mouth and they hustled him forward, toward the prepared circle.