Keeper of the Dawn

Declan said, “All right, I’ll take the van and bring Rhiannon, Charlaine and whoever else home.”

“I’ll stay. I need to see this through,” Mark said.

Alessande wanted to scream. If Mark was staying, she felt that she should stay, too. She had walked into this whole thing with so much courage, and yet here in the mortuary, where people worked daily, where death was accepted, she was afraid.

But something about the whole night had seemed off to her.

Charlaine Hildegard suddenly becoming one of them?

Or the condition of the corpse?

“I’ll stay with Mark. Everyone else can go home and get some sleep,” Alessande heard herself say. “Mark and I will be fine.”

Everyone thanked her, and when they were gone, she sat at one of the morticians’ desks and tried to smile at Mark. “So, how did it go at the Hildegard mansion? Did you find anything interesting besides the diary?”

“Laughton lived in the attic suite, and it was full of evidence,” Mark told her. “A box of the pills, and a veritable forest of carefully tended Transymil plants. He had lights set up...heaters, water gauges, you name it. Everything.”

“And you believe he was behind everything?”

“Not on your life.” He smiled and walked over to her. “I’ve never been the least bit attracted to Charlaine, you know. But she did give me the diary. And she made it easier for us to accomplish what we have tonight.”

“I just wish I knew for sure that that’s really Sebastian Hildegard’s corpse burning in there,” she said. “Anyway, there’s a coffee machine. Do you want some?”

“Sure. We do have a long wait.”

While the coffee finished brewing, she turned to look around the room again. The far end—with the giant incinerator—seemed to glow red. The walls were full of open shelving holding makeup, wigs and all kinds of paraphernalia for making the dead look as if they were still alive. The morticians had been using some kind of putty on the face of the accident victim. It seemed odd that even in a mortuary, everything was so very Hollywood. Here, just as on the silver screen, the entire focus was on effects. Special effects. Effects to make it look as if the dead were alive, as if they were only sleeping, so that their loved ones could feel comforted that they truly were resting in peace.

The minute the coffee was ready, she poured two cups and brought one over to Mark.

He smiled at her and pointed to the rear of the incinerator. “There’s a scoop there, so we can collect the ashes and head to the ocean. I think we need to make sure they’re well and truly scattered.”

“It’s a plan,” Alessande said. She sat next to him and sipped her coffee. The elderly man, the elderly woman and the young accident victim lay on their tables without moving.

His fingers curled around hers and she looked over at him. She saw so much in his amber eyes, fire and, more importantly, tenderness.

“You shouldn’t have stayed. I would have been all right alone,” he told her.

She smiled and kissed the hand that held hers. “No. And I’m fine. I’m with you. It’s just...”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know. Something about tonight just doesn’t feel right.”

He leaned back and looked thoughtful.

“You feel it, too!”

“We’ll just wait for the ashes, then scatter them and go home. Or to Castle House, as the case is for now. And then...a really long, hot shower.”

“I’m willing to share the guest bath,” she said, smiling, then leaned against his shoulder to wait.

Eventually the oven finished doing its job. Mark found one of the boxes where ashes were kept when the family hadn’t decided on an urn yet. She followed his directions, helping him as they scooped the old magician’s remains into the box.

Mark didn’t seem to worry about the niceties of the situation. Now and then they came upon a fragment of bone and he just smashed it with the scoop.

Soon they were ready to go.

“The coffee area...back the way it was?” he asked.

She looked around, then nodded. He picked up the box and they headed out. Just as they were about to close and lock the door, Alessande felt a prickle of apprehension.

She heard something.

She hesitated and looked back into the room. The elderly man lay just as he had been.

She stared at the accident victim.

Did he twitch?

No, it was her imagination.

“Alessande?” Mark said.

“I’m coming. I’m—”

She broke off. It wasn’t the accident victim who had moved.

It was the elderly woman. The one who looked like the kind of grandma who made chocolate chip cookies and served them to her beloved grandchildren along with ice-cold milk.

The woman sprang up and came at them, her face contorting and twisting.

And then she morphed completely, becoming a massive tiger and lunging toward them with a deafening growl and the strength of pure muscled feline power.

Chapter 12

Mark realized he should have seen it coming. No matter what, he knew it was prudent to be suspicious at all times.

Actually, being suspicious was his nature.

But he had looked at all the corpses when they had entered and had checked for movement. Now he berated himself for also, and unintentionally, thinking instinctively, distrusting the young man who, even with half his face ripped off, had looked the most powerful.

He’d never suspected the grandmotherly old woman.

Damn shapeshifters. Of course it made sense to choose a seemingly innocuous form.

He slammed the door behind them, but it nearly came off its hinges as the creature slammed against it.

He shoved the box of ashes into Alessande’s hands and shouted, “Get in the car!”

“No! You might need me.”

“We need the ashes,” he said, leaning with all his might against the door.

She nodded and hurried to the minivan, throwing open the door.

Suddenly he felt the weight against the door ease. He looked down, afraid the shapeshifter had decided to become something small and escape underneath the door.

He heard glass crashing and turned. The massive beast had vaulted through one of the rear windows and was moving rapidly in his direction.

Mark instantly morphed into a bat, and then his attacker shifted into the form it had used the first time he had seen it: a giant bird of prey.

He swooped and soared, trying to get above it so he could plummet down and get it by the neck. Once his bite was secure he could sink his fangs into it and start to drain it, forcing it to lose strength and careen toward earth.

But as if it knew his intent, the shapeshifter flew higher, staying above him.

“Hey!” he heard Alessande shouting. And then, before his eyes, swiftly and easily, she transformed. She became a bird, a peregrine falcon, and soared into the sky to join the battle.

The giant hawk turned, going almost into a free fall as it moved to attack Alessande.