What a Ghoul Wants (14 page)

“André and Jaqui Lefebvre,” he replied.

“Ah, yeah,” I said, remembering that even if André didn’t think of it, his wife was
certainly a shrewd customer. No woman spies on her husband like she’d done earlier
without having at least a few solid brain cells.

“But what about Kim and the others?” John said, pulling us back to the urgent matter
at hand.

I eyed him knowingly. I’d been certain that even though he and Kim had split up, John
still carried a flame for her. “I’ll go look for them now,” I said before reaching
into my pocket to pull out my room key. Handing it to John, I said, “Grab the spikes
in my room and the ones from your tool belt and stay close to Gilley, Michel, and
Arthur until I get back. Protect them just in case the Widow comes into this section
of the castle.”

John looked like he wanted to argue with me about the plan, so I turned away and faced
Crunn. “Arthur, has the Grim Widow ever come into this section of the castle?”

He shook his head vigorously. “I’d never work here if she did.”

“So she sticks to the south wing exclusively?”

“Yes, that and. . .” Arthur seemed to catch himself.

“And? And what?”

“The moat. She’s often seen at night swimming in the moat.”

I had firsthand experience with that particular fact. “Okay, then, while I’m gone,
see if you can think of another way to alert the authorities and get an electrician
to make an emergency castle visit. Even if you have to wake up another one of the
guests, do it. If a fire broke out, we’d all be in serious trouble.”

Crunn blanched. “I hadn’t considered that. Let me check the registry.” And off he
went to do that.

When I turned back to Gil, Michel, and John, they all wore identical expressions of
doubt on their faces. “I should go with you,” John said.

“No.” I knew John meant well, and I was pretty touched that after his major scare
earlier he’d still volunteer to come with me, but in dicey situations, he was unpredictable,
and if he went running off in a panic again, I didn’t know whether I could save him—especially
if I managed to find Gopher and the girls and had them to worry about too.

“I’d like to volunteer,” Michel said next.

“Thank you, Michel, but the answer is also no. The only person I’d be willing to take
along on this hunt is currently lying in a hospital bed.”

“M. J.,” Gil said, but I cut him off.

“I’ll be fine, Gilley. Stick with John and Michel and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With that, I turned to the stairs, but thought of something as I was on my way up.
Turning back, I said, “John, can you let me into your room? I want to grab a couple
of flashlights and maybe one of the night-vision cameras.”

“Gopher took all the cameras with him, M. J.”

“Crap,” I muttered. “I have a feeling I’m really gonna need one of those.”

“He didn’t take all of them,” Gilley said. “One needed some repairs and I’ve got it
in my room. I’ll trade you it for my sweatshirt.”

“Gil,” I said wearily.

“I read up on this Grim Widow,” Gil protested. “She really likes to go after hot young
guys! I’m a prime target!”

I leveled my eyes at Gilley with barely concealed skepticism.

Gil glared right back at me, as if daring me to contradict him.

“I’ll give you most of the spikes,” John said to Gilley, coming to join me on the
stairs. “And don’t you have some spare magnets in your gear, Gil? I mean, I could’ve
sworn I saw you pick up at least a dozen packs when we were in Germany from that tourist
shop.”

Gilley had a dozen packs of spare magnets? This was news to me. And when I saw his
face flush with guilt, I knew it was true. I returned Gilley’s glare, and then some.
“While I’m gone, you can make yourself a spare sweatshirt or a pair of magnetic pj’s
for all I care. But for the time being, Gilley Gillespie, I’m keeping this sweatshirt
and you
are
giving me that night-vision camera!”

Gil scowled but followed after us without protest as we headed up the stairs. When
we got to John’s room, he doled out two flashlights and the least reliable electrostatic
meter we had (likely why Gopher had left it behind), and put fresh batteries in the
night-vision camera that Gilley retrieved from his room. I noticed that Gil also brought
along several packs of flat magnets, one of his sweatshirts, and a glue gun. He’d
be busy while I was looking for the crew.

John took six spikes and stuffed them into a tool belt, giving the rest to Gilley.
“I’ll walk you as far as the door to the south wing,” he explained.

When Gilley protested that that would leave him with only four, John pointed to Gil’s
stash of extra magnets and walked out without another word. I followed right behind
him before Gil could start whining again.

“You nervous?” John asked when we’d walked for a bit.

“Terrified.”

“Seriously, M. J., I think I should go with you. I mean, I could stick really close
to you so that the sweatshirt might be enough to shield both of us.”

Again the image of John flying down the hallway away from the black shadow demon played
through my mind. “Sorry, buddy,” I told him. “But I’m gonna need you to stay close
to Gilley and make sure he doesn’t lose it tonight.”

Briefly, relief flashed across John’s face, and I didn’t blame him. Then he seemed
to think of something. “Hey, wait here!” he said before dashing back the way we’d
come. I had waited for him for all of three or four minutes when he came running back
with a smug look on his face. After he handed me one of two headsets, I knew why.

“I almost forgot we still had these,” he said, a little out of breath.

I put the headset on. “Do they work?” I seemed to recall the last time we used these
had been in Ireland, and they’d been pretty beaten up on the bust we’d used them for.

John put his on too and clicked the power button. “Can you hear me now?”

I smiled. “Loud and clear, buddy. Okay, this is good.”

“Gil also said he should be able to get a view through your camera feed, M. J. He’s
pulling up the link on his computer right now, so you can switch that on anytime and
we’ll know where you are and how to find you when. . . I mean
if
you get into trouble.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

John’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool. But if I
do
get into trouble, the last thing I need is for you guys to come running to my rescue
and be picked off one at a time by the Widow. You gotta promise me that the three
of you will sit tight. I’ll figure out how to keep myself safe, okay?”

“What if she pulls you into the moat like she did Heath?” John asked.

I barely held back a shudder. “She won’t,” I promised, not quite believing I could
stop her, but determined to try. “As long as I stick to the south wing, she won’t
have a chance to get me into the moat.”

“Just don’t pull down any of those sconces,” John warned, stopping as we reached the
door to the south wing.

“Noted.” I took a big breath and stood in front of the door for a minute, gathering
my courage. I reached for the handle and hesitated. “John, you’d better get back to
the main hall. Arthur only said he’d never seen her come past the south wing—he didn’t
say that she couldn’t.”

John gulped. “Good point. Be careful, M. J., okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

John turned then and jogged away. I waited until he was out of sight, then counted
to ten and turned back to face the music.

“M. J.? This is Gilley. You copy? Over.”

I think I jumped about a foot as Gil’s voice echoed loudly into my ear. Once I’d calmed
myself down, I whispered, “I’m here, guy.”

“You forgot to say ‘over,’ over.”

I ground my teeth together. “I’m over your overs, Gil. Now shut it for a minute, would
you?”

“But I can’t see anything! Did you switch on the camera?”

I looked down at my right hand. The little red button was unlit. After flipping on
the camera’s power, I raised it and turned the lens to my face. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah. Good. It’s working. Okay, continue with the hunt!” he said, like he was my
director or something.

I resisted the urge to turn off the headset and reached for the door handle. Very
slowly I pulled it open a crack and peeked through. The hallway was ominously dark
and none of the overhead lights were on. How’d I know this wouldn’t be easy?

Lifting the camera, I turned the lens toward the opening and looked at the screen.
The hallway appeared to be empty.

“What’re you waiting for?” Gil asked me, his voice slightly bored.

“Will you shut up?” I snapped quietly. He was throwing off my concentration and irritating
me no end.

“I just asked you a simple question,” he said. “Over.”

I closed the door and stepped away several feet from it. Putting my hand over my mouth
to muffle the sound of my voice, I said, “Gilley Morehouse Gillespie, you hand this
headset over to John
right now
!”

“God, M. J., are you PMSing tonight or what? Over.”

“
Now
, Gil, or I’m gonna quit the hunt and come back there to throttle you!”

I heard the sound of plastic squeaking and then I heard John’s voice. “Hey, M. J.,
you okay?”

I let out a little of the hot air welling inside of me. “Do me a favor and stay on
with me, okay, John? Don’t let Gilley have the headset back.”

“You got it.”

Taking another deep breath, I turned and trotted back to the door and reached for
the handle. Pausing to grip it tightly, I counted to ten, lifted the camera, and opened
the door wide.

The most hideous face met the lens of the camera as the Grim Widow jumped out right
at me and hissed like a snake.

In my ear I could hear the sound of Gilley screaming and even John shouted out fearfully,
but no one screamed as loudly as I did.

I jumped back and slammed the door, then turned tail and ran for all I was worth.
I didn’t stop until I’d reached the stairs leading down to the main hall. Below me
in the center of the room were Gilley, John, Michel, and Arthur, all huddled close
together and staring around with big frightened eyes. I knew my own expression likely
mirrored theirs.
“You’re alive!”
Gil exclaimed when he saw me.

I was breathing hard as I descended the stairs, looking over my shoulder as I went.
When I reached the group, Gilley flung himself at me. “Oh, thank God!”

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Severely freaked-out, but otherwise unharmed.”

Gil continued to hug me. In fact, he even tightened his grip. “Gil,” I said. “Let
go.”

But he wouldn’t, and I suddenly realized he was less concerned about me and more interested
in sharing the energy of the magnets surrounding me. It took me nearly a minute to
pry him off me. “Did she hurt you?” Arthur asked once I’d managed to shove Gil away.

I shook my head. “No. She just hissed and I bolted.”

“Did she come after you?” John asked, staring nervously toward the stairs.

“No,” I repeated. “At least I don’t think so. Arthur appears to be right. She sticks
to the south wing.”

“This section of the castle was exorcised by a priest in the early 1700s,” Arthur
told us. “That seemed to keep her confined to the south side of the castle.”

“Why didn’t the priest take care of the whole castle while he was at it?” I asked.
It seemed stupid to leave any part of the castle to that horrible spook.

“It took him a whole day to conduct the ritual on this side of the castle,” Arthur
explained. “He planned to finish exorcising the south wing the next day, but the following
morning he was found dead. . . floating in the moat.”

Gilley made a squeaking sound and moved over next to Michel, who also looked quite
frightened, but seemed to be handling this better than Gil. “What do we do now?” Michel
asked when the rest of us fell silent.

I stared down at the floor. After that encounter, I knew I couldn’t leave Gopher and
the girls to face the Widow alone. God only knew what’d happened to them, as no one
had heard a peep (or cascade of screams) since they’d left on their hunt. “Let me
see the footage,” I said to Gil, motioning to his computer.

Gil paled. “Why?”

“I only saw her for a second through the viewfinder. I want to see how close she came
before I got out of there.”

“I repeat, why?”

“To see if this sweatshirt had any effect at all,” I told him with a weary sigh. Why
was everything an argument with him these days?

Gil bit his lip but sat down and picked up his computer. “Okay, but I’m not going
to look at it again.” As he lifted the lid, his computer dinged with an incoming e-mail.
For a brief second, Gil’s attention was diverted. “It’s from Chris Weller. He wants
to know if we’ve got any footage for him.”

I made a face. Chris Weller was the last person on earth I wanted to distract me.
“You know what? Send him the footage we just took and tell him to stuff it!” I was
sooooo over the network brass and their constant harassment.

Gil began typing and belatedly I realized he’d taken me seriously. I almost told him
to stop, but then thought, what the hell? Let Chris be scared out of his boxers. After
Gil sent off the clip, he turned the computer around so I could see, and I squinted
at the green and black image showing the door being pulled open and that incredibly
frightful face bursting out of utter blackness to hiss into my camera. What I hadn’t
realized was that I seemed to have hesitated before turning on my heel and running
away. For a second the camera had continued to film the Grim Widow as she came at
me, but then she actually recoiled, her hands coming away as if she’d just touched
something very hot.

“So the sweatshirt does work,” I said. And I couldn’t be sure if I was relieved or
even more scared by the revelation.

“M. J., she came right at you!” John protested.

I shook my head and rewound the clip a few frames. “She backs off the moment she’s
about to grab me. See?”