Tai wasn’t the golem. That I knew. I mean, magic just oozed out his pores, and the golem had none as far as I could tell. Not to mention that he’d been there tonight when the thing attacked, so that let him out.
Gretchen wasn’t, obviously. Even fully clothed, the tattoos on her back were there, and my skin itched just thinking about it. Almost like I could see them swirling through her T-shirt. Almost like I could hear them crying out.
Dante…well, I suppose I should test him just to be sure, but surely someone would have noticed if he’d been replaced. His expressive face held none of the smooth waxiness I’d come to associate with our centurion friend, and Gretchen was his best friend. If he wasn’t himself, she’d be the one to know. Still, if I tested one, I’d have to test them all. It was only fair.
“Dante, does she have some pins or something around? Sewing kit, maybe?”
He gave me a puzzled look, but nodded toward Gretchen’s room. “On her dresser, should be some. Don’t touch anything.”
I rolled my eyes at him as I went to find something sharp and pointy. Like I was gonna do a panty raid or something, geez.
Gretchen’s room was not nearly as decadent as I’d been imagining. Her bed was covered in stuffed animals and pillows, done in shades of tan and pale blue. Her clothes were strung all over the floor wherever she’d dropped them, and her closet doors stood wide open, revealing heaps of shoes beneath a kaleidoscope of gowns and other garments. Other than the sheer volume of it, it could have been any girl’s room, anywhere.
A huge mirror surrounded by lights crowned a low table on one side, and curiosity made me go check out the pictures tucked around the frame. Gretchen and friends, mostly, Dante appearing in more than half of them, the only sign of the passage of time being the changes in his hairstyle and color. Tai and Bobby were there too, though usually standing sternly in the background, only caught on film by accident. Other people, some famous, some not, all with plastic smiles for their best friend of the moment.
One picture, down toward the bottom, was a school photo of a young blond girl. At first, I thought it was an old one of Gretchen, but looking at the year on it, I realized it had to be the sister. The one who was getting married. Because I’m pushy at heart, I moved the picture up higher on the frame, letting it set at eye level. Maybe seeing that would change Gretchen’s mind about her sister’s nuptials.
On the low table, practically hidden in all the tiny pots and cakes of makeup and hair frillies, I found a small box of safety pins. That’d do nicely. And in her private bathroom, I found a box of bandages and some antiseptic. Perfect. First Aid Man, that’s me.
Gretchen was sitting up when I returned to the living room. “What are you doing?”
“Little test. Just to make sure we’re all who we say we are.” I fished a safety pin out of the box, opening it. “Who wants to go first?” No one was gonna volunteer, but Gretchen and Dante watched closely as I crouched at Tai’s side and jabbed the big Maori in the pad of his thumb. He twitched, grumbled, but didn’t wake up.
A drop of dark red blood welled at the pinprick, and I swabbed it and bandaged it like a good little nurse. “Me next.” Grabbing another pin, I gave myself the same treatment, showing off my bleeding finger to Gretchen and Dante for verification. “See? All human here.”
“Why exactly are we doing this?” Gretchen offered her hand, and I stabbed her with a fresh pin.
“Because I think I know what that thing is that’s been attacking us, and if I’m right, it shouldn’t bleed. Shouldn’t be
“Really?” When we just kept looking at him, he grumbled and held out his hand. “Why is the black man always the suspect?”
Gretchen chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder, and I jabbed him in the finger. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, but just when my adrenaline was about to kick in, a tiny bit of blood seeped to the surface. “Congrats, Dante. You pass.” I blotted it away with a tissue, then handed him a bandage.
A knock sounded at the door, which brought Tai immediately awake. “Oh good, room service is here.”
I blinked at him. “I stab you in the hand, you don’t wake up. But one hint of food, and you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” He just grinned and shrugged at me as I got up to answer the door. “Hey, Dante? Burn those tissues, okay?” Blood wasn’t something I wanted just lying around for any old demon or spell caster to pick up. Even I knew that much.
“Yessir.”
Spencer was waiting at the door when I opened it, and he grinned as he pushed the cart in. “Hey, Jesse Dawson! How’s it going?”
“Not bad, man, yourself?” I stuck my hand out to him, and when he reached to shake mine, I stabbed him in the back of the hand with the safety pin I’d palmed.
“Ow!” I held him until I saw blood, then let go. “What was that for?”
“Amusement.” I could be nice, though. I handed him a bandage.
Instead of being pissed off—and if someone stabbed me with a safety pin, that’s exactly what
There are so many kinds of crazy in the world. Spencer was his own unique brand. “Just park the cart over there, man.” I pointed generally in the direction of the dining table.
There was a tiny whoosh from the fireplace as Dante incinerated the bloody tissues, and Tai barely let Spencer get the cart stopped before he started pawing through the plates.
“We weren’t sure what you’d want, but I figured bacon was a safe bet.” He handed me a plate heaped with it, and my stomach gave a loud growl. It had been a long time since the mushroomy things at the party last night.
