“No. The only thing I could ask would be that he shut down the Great Wheel, but unless there’s a bomb threat, that’s not going to fly. Not today. And one thing I won’t do is call in a false report—that’s just a little too much since I know I couldn’t dodge it and I’d lose my license at best. Or end up in jail. And then how could I run away with you to Europe?”
He paused, his silence weighty in spite of my teasing tone. “Would you do that?”
“What? Call in the report anyway? No.”
“I meant would you follow me to Europe?”
I scowled at the phone. “Follow? Hell no. I’d be right beside you all the way. You’re—” I found myself without the right word. “Everything” seemed a bit heavy and “mine” too possessive, but both were true.
The silence hung there, stretching, until he said, “Yeah. I feel the same way about you.”
My heart bumped around unevenly in my chest, knocking on my ribs and blundering into my throat.
“Do you want me there . . . tonight?” he asked.
I struggled with it, but I said, “Want and need aren’t the same. I always want you with me. But tonight I think you need to be somewhere else, don’t you?”
He was quiet for a second, then said, “Following the family footsteps—at a discreet distance. But it’s not what I
“I know.”
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back, the phone going silent as he dropped the connection.
I finished up at the office—I even dusted and swept up to make the evening a bit less of a sneezing fest. I’m not much of a housekeeper normally, so the pall of dust I’d raised by my rearrangements was significant and as hard to lay as a recalcitrant revenant. Also, I just needed to be
I wanted to scream at everyone I saw heading for the waterfront to go away, far away from the Great Wheel and everything close to it. I wanted to warn them but I knew it was futile and at best I’d get arrested, so I shut my mouth and ground my teeth. Finally I fetched Limos’s shrine and tucked it into a corner of the cleaned office, near the door where I was most likely to be able to use it.
I stopped long enough to bolt down some food and noticed it was nearly eight already. I had to scamper back to my building to get there before Goss and Stymak arrived.
Stymak glared at me when Lily brought him upstairs. “This is all your idea, isn’t it?” he said.
“Not entirely, but I think once I explain it you’ll agree that it’s necessary and you’re the only medium I can trust to do it right.”
I waved him and Goss to the client chairs and stuffed down my own impatience and nerves. I didn’t want to frighten them with some of the more gruesome and specific details of what might happen, so I kept my instructions and descriptions deceptively bland as I told them what we needed to do and why and what part I—and Carlos—would play. Stymak wasn’t much mollified.
“I don’t like your friend. He has a very ugly vibe.”
“I’m aware of that and I’m sorry, but you won’t have to touch him. He won’t even be in the circle. He’s mostly helping me with what I need to do. The only people you’ll have actual contact with are Lily here, and the representatives of the other two patients. They’ll be here about nine, so we need to get any setup done before then so we can get to work as soon as they arrive.”
“It’s not that easy with . . . civilians,” Stymak said, giving Lily a contrite glance.
She shrugged it off. “You mean nonpsychics? We’re not as useless as you think.”
“I don’t mean that. I just mean it’s not easy to get into the right state of mind if you haven’t practiced. And this is going to require a very clear initial state or we might not get anywhere—or not fast enough to . . . do what Harper wants to do.”
Goss made a face at Stymak. “I know how to clear my mind to listen to God. I think the others will know what that’s like by now, since we’ve all had to live with this . . . stress. I think you’re underestimating our willingness and ability, Richard.”
Stymak nibbled his lower lip. “I don’t know. . . .”
She put her hand over his. “Trust, Richard. That’s the first thing God asks of us. That’s the only thing you need to do.” She smiled at him. “It’ll be fine.” She kept his gaze in hers for a moment longer, still smiling gently. I guess she saw what she wanted eventually, because her smile broadened and she patted his hand. Then she stood up. “Then let’s get to it.”
I thought I had just caught a glimpse of what Lillian Goss had been like before her sister’s illness, before she became thin and nervous and somewhat lost.
Stymak apparently couldn’t ignore her charm. He got up, too, said, “OK,” and looked around. “I don’t think we can work with the desk, but maybe the typing table, if that’s all right with you, Harper. We’ll have to move the desk and other stuff aside.”
I was tired and I found it ironic that I’d already moved it all, but I had no real issue with moving the furniture yet again. We quickly rearranged the room to Stymak’s satisfaction, although we had to bring in one more folding chair and put my work chair out in the truck—we didn’t want anyone to end up sliding out of the circle if the chair rolled under the pressure of ghosts.
I returned from locking up the chair and met a nervous Levi Westman in the lobby. He looked almost ready to bolt until I put my hand on his shoulder like a friend I was pleased to see and said hello, leading him up the stairs to my office.
“Are you all right?” I asked as we went up.
“Fine. No. Scared. Worried. I’m not fine, but I’m not . . . not-fine, if you know what I mean.”
“It’ll be OK,” I said, opening the door to my office.
When he saw Lily looking solid and calm and Stymak looking slightly nerdy and very unthreatening, he relaxed, the color flooding up higher in his aura, which had closed so tight to his body I’d barely been able to see it.
They were standing and chatting quietly, comparing horror stories of what their loved ones had undergone, when Olivia clattered up the stairs.
She was limping a bit and I could tell her foot hurt, but she looked windblown and red-cheeked—happy and livelier than I’d seen her before. Her quick smile convinced me I wasn’t doing the dumbest thing in the world—not if it freed her to wear that look of hope and happiness afterward.
Now we just needed Carlos. . . .
I don’t know why vampires don’t or can’t go out in daylight—I’ve never asked and I’ve never discovered the answer on my own, but I’ve never known a full vampire to be active before sundown or after sunrise. Yet, the sky was only barely black when Carlos arrived and I wondered if I’d just gotten lucky and he’d been sleeping nearby or if he had some strange magical way of moving that I didn’t know about. The rest of the group didn’t seem bothered by his sudden, silent appearance, but Stymak recoiled and made sure he was as far from the vampire as possible. The rest stared and seemed to sway toward him—pulled by the sexual charm that vampires exude to cover their aura of death.
I turned my head and made a disapproving face at him. He returned the barest smile and seemed to dial down the reach and intensity of his glamour.
I hesitated for a moment about introducing him. Names are powerful things, but in this case I wasn’t sure if it was better to have the extra energy or the extra protection. Carlos took the decision for himself and inclined his head slightly, almost like a bow, saying, “I’m Carlos. I’ll remain outside the circle with Blaine. We should begin, now that we’re all here, yes?” he added, glancing at Stymak, but keeping the contact short.
Stymak nodded, shaking with nerves, and started directing the other three to sit so the small typing table was in the center of their circle, though it barely had room for his equipment.
“We’ll have to hold hands around the table, but it’s OK if your hands are resting on the chair arms instead— this tabletop’s kind of small,” Stymak explained. He glanced at me. “The electric lamp died. . . . Are you OK with a candle? Otherwise we’ll have to do this in total darkness.”
“A candle’s fine,” I said. I supposed it was possible the typing desk could be set aflame, but I’d live with the risk. One candle was unlikely to catch the whole building on fire even at the worst and the small flame would help
