Against a Brightening Sky (40 page)

“Of course. Why?”

Dora lifted out jars of dried herbs and spices, setting them to the side. Removing the box's false bottom took only a few seconds more. She gingerly lifted out a small pistol and laid it on the table. “I have another small revolver in my workroom that I'll get for me. Keep this one in your pocket, Dee. It's smaller than the gun Gabe keeps at home, and you should be able to use it easily. I need you to make the same promise to me that you made to Gabe. Don't hesitate to shoot.”

The gun was much lighter than Gabe's and fit my hand perfectly. Promising to shoot, to kill Josef if necessary, made me ill. I promised anyway. “If there's no other way, I won't hesitate. But please tell me we'll find another way.”

She touched my cheek. “I will do my very best not to put you in that position. Now, let's take the tea and sandwiches out. I'm surprised Libby hasn't come looking for us already.”

Dora balanced the tray holding the teapot and cups. I took the larger platter of sandwiches and cookies. “Should we warn Libby?”

“No, not yet. No need to alarm her until we have cause. I might be jumping at shadows.”

I shoved the swinging door open and held it for Dora. “You've never jumped at a shadow in your life, Isadora Bobet.”

“There's always a first time.” She smiled and squeezed past me. “Pray that this is it.”

Gabe

Gabe's meetings with the chief of police were never brief. This one had dragged on longer than usual. He understood the pressure on the chief to find the people behind the riot at Lotta's fountain and the string of murders that followed. Demanding that Gabe detail every step he and Jack had taken in the investigation didn't provide any new answers.

That there were things he couldn't say, things Gabe knew to be true that the chief would never believe, made it all worse. Telling the chief that a necromancer working for the Bolsheviks was responsible for the riot was a sure way to lose his badge. His response to any question the chief asked was to slide around and evade the truth. He left the two-hour meeting feeling bitter about the waste of time.

Gabe headed back to his office, his mind on details of what he needed to tackle next. He rounded a hallway corner and almost ran headlong into Randy and Jack.

“Christ Almighty, Gabe.” Jack wore an overcoat and his plaid cap. He thrust Gabe's coat and hat toward him. “I didn't think the chief was ever going to stop talking. Dora called. We need to get over there.”

His heart sped up, but he kept his voice calm and even. Ignoring the icy whisper telling him to run was harder. “How long ago?”

Randy didn't have as much practice keeping panic from showing. He wiped sweat from his forehead on a sleeve and set a brisk pace down the corridor. “More than an hour. Josef found a way to trace the finding charms back to her. Dee's with her, but she needs reinforcements. He knows where they are, Gabe. He knows.”

“He can't get past her boundaries, not without an invitation. Dora's sure of that.” Jack limped a little more, but he gamely kept up with the two taller men. “I sent more men to surround the house and patrol the street. They all know not to separate and to check in frequently.”

“Good. I'd have done the same.” They wove through the always crowded lobby and hurried toward the front doors, avoiding eye contact with anyone who looked their way. Gabe didn't trust himself not to snarl at anyone trying to delay them. “What about Sam and Jordan? Did you warn them away?”

“Sam's still at the paper. I sent Finlay and Perry over to his office to make sure he stays there. They're under orders to arrest him if that's what it takes.” Jack frowned. “Jordan called from Dora's not long after she phoned me. Lynch knows everything and insists on staying put. He made a point of telling me he's got his gun.”

They shoved through the front doors and outside. The sun was shining in a fresh blue sky, giving an impression of warmth that wasn't there. Chill, sea-damp air seeped under his coat, raising gooseflesh. Gabe flipped up his collar. “Lynch is a good cop. I can't see him walking away when Dora and Dee need him.”

Randy Dodd yanked open the car door, stepping back to let Gabe and Jack climb into the backseat. “Libby's there again too. Jordan can keep her from charging out the front door if nothing else.”

Gabe wiped a hand over his mouth, counting. “We have five people inside. Anyone else we have to worry about?”

Randy's smile was grim. “Five is enough.”

“Five is more than enough.” He climbed into the back next to Jack and slammed the door. The hollow echo reminded him of gunfire. He saw the same thought sitting in Jack's eyes.

Dodd slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. The car lurched away from the curb, picking up speed rapidly. Gabe hunched into his coat, silently watching people on the sidewalk and buildings hurtle past.

They didn't have far to go, but the drive would seem endless.

Not knowing what they'd find tied his stomach in knots.

 

CHAPTER 20

Delia

Laughter from the sitting room signaled that Alina had won another game of cards. Jordan Lynch's deep, rumbling voice followed, consoling Libby. She took it well, as she always did, but the edge in her voice betrayed the strain.

Libby might not believe in spirits and ghosts, in Dora's abilities or mine, but she'd seen the riot and the aftermath. When Jordan took her aside and flatly told her it was too dangerous to leave, and why, she hadn't argued for long. I was enormously grateful she hadn't made a bigger scene.

Plum-colored shadows bruised the skin under Dora's eyes. She sat upright in the straight-backed chair at the head of table, but that didn't erase the image of her wilting as I watched. We'd spent most of the last two hours reinforcing the barriers around her house, adding layers to protections that had grown thicker with each passing year. I'd done all I could to help, but by necessity, the majority of the effort came from Dora. I'd rarely seen her so exhausted. That she was still on her feet was nothing short of remarkable.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. “Chief Michael's meeting with Gabe couldn't have come at a worse time. The temptation to send a silence hex his way is almost overwhelming. Randy and Gabe should have been here more than an hour ago. I'm beginning to worry that something's happened.”

“Something more you mean. I don't believe that's possible.” Heavy damask drapes covered her workroom windows. The dim yellow light of two small electric lamps provided enough light to see, but shadows filled the corners and veiled the ceiling. Dora found the near darkness restful, soothing. Normally I'd agree, but today the lack of light grated on my nerves. “Gabe and Randy will be here soon. I'm confident Jack will come as well. He won't want to miss the fun.”

That made her smile. “Sadie would be horrified to hear you say that, even if it is true.”

“Then we shan't tell her.” The watcher's eyes still filled my head. She kept a constant vigil, ever alert, and added to the restless anticipation I couldn't shake. “Do you have any of that sherry left?”

Dora stared. “Delia Ann Ryan, I don't think you've ever asked me for a drink before. I'm starting to think I'm a bad influence.”

“You've always been a bad influence. I adore you anyway.” I stood and went to the doorway, peering down the hallway in hopes of seeing Gabe. He wasn't there, but I'd known that. The gun in my pocket bumped my leg as I turned around, a sober reminder of my promise. “But perhaps I should skip the sherry for now. I'll reconsider once Gabe arrives.”

“More tea, then.” Dora braced against the edge of the table and stood. “Tea and a bite to eat will do us both a great deal of good.”

She slipped her arm through mine for the walk to the kitchen at the other end of the house. We found Jordan at the bottom of the staircase, frowning up at the second-floor landing.

Isadora's fingers tightened on my arm. “Is something wrong?”

“Not a thing.” He looked slightly embarrassed. “I know this man can't get inside on his own, but do you mind if I take a look around upstairs? I'd feel more sure of my ground and a little less jumpy. Old cop habits die hard.”

Her smile was warm and bright, if a bit frayed around the edges. “I don't mind at all. Tea will be ready when you come back down.”

We waited until Jordan reached the second floor before going into the kitchen. Dora hunted in the icebox for lemon wedges and rounds of cheese while I filled the kettle. Slices of bread, the last few apples, and a plate of cookies went on the big tray as well.

The fuzzy images of three princesses gazed back at me from inside empty teacups and the back of a silver teaspoon. I turned to find their anxious faces watching from each glass cupboard door, the sides of water tumblers, and serving dishes. Everywhere I looked, Alina's sisters gazed back, voiceless and desperate to speak.

They were frightened. The front door chimes rang and the dragon growled. “Dora—”

Libby's cheery voice carried from the entryway as she greeted Sam and told him to come in. Isadora's head came up abruptly and she dropped the cheese knife, grimacing in pain and grabbing the table edge to keep from falling. “Oh dear God, she invited him in … no.”

I didn't wait. I pulled the gun from my pocket and ran.

Hurtling headlong into Libby outside the kitchen knocked the wind out of me and sent the gun tumbling out of my hand. She retrieved the pistol, staring openmouthed. “Dee, what are you doing?”

“That man—that's not Sam. Give me the gun!” I couldn't think, couldn't see round the dragon's angry red eyes. She roared in rage and terror, and I fought not to go to my knees. “Please, Libby. It's not him. That's not Sam!”

“You've lost your mind.” She backed away as I lunged for the gun, her expression growing more horrified. “No, I'm not letting you go in there with this. Jordan! Jordan!”

“Yes, call Jordan.” I steadied myself against the wall and took a step. “Tell him to hurry.”

Libby shrank back, shaking and obviously terrified, and didn't try to stop me from continuing down the hallway. This wasn't at all like the fearless woman I'd come to know. I wondered what Josef had done to her, or if he'd given her a vision of how death would find her.

The man on the settee was a perfect double for Sam, and to anyone watching, the way he cupped Alina's face appeared tender and loving. Libby wouldn't have questioned allowing him inside, but I saw through his illusions. Sam's face stuttered in and out of view, replaced by a bearded older man with dark hair and clouded eyes.

Remembering my dreams, how Josef had held her face just that way and the feel of bones shifting, made my skin crawl. Alina whimpered the same way now, wide eyed with horror, and terrified tears slid down her face. She couldn't escape, couldn't move as long as he held her.

An army of ghosts filled the sitting room, arrayed in rows that stretched from the door and beyond the far wall. Most were Josef's victims, angry-eyed phantoms he refused to release. He'd bound these men and women as they died, forcing them into his service. They glared at him and didn't try to hide their hatred.

A shrinking circle of spirits surrounded Alina, faceless memories trying to shield her and hold back the tide of haunts Josef called. They faded as I watched, growing distant. Soon they'd vanish completely and leave Alina unprotected.

Josef didn't so much as glance my way. The wall of ghosts between us was meant to keep me out, to shut Dora off from Alina. I pushed into the room anyway, whispering banishing charms and commands for restless spirits to go, to move on and seek their rest.

A few gave way, but most reached out to brush cold fingers across my face, to grasp an arm or touch my shoulder. I relived each tortured soul's last moment and each painful death delivered by Josef's hands. The dragon growled with each ghostly touch that drove the chill deeper, but she couldn't stop the dead or send them away. I clenched my chattering teeth and held on.

One faded spirit, an old man dressed as a monk, stepped in front of me, blocking my path. I plowed through him, shivering with cold and the agony of his last moments. When I could see again, I was within arm's reach of Josef.

A slender pewter vase sat on a half table at the end of the settee. I grabbed the vase round the top and swung at Josef, landing a solid blow on the back of his head. He snarled and caught the vase with one hand, twisting it away from me, and wrapped his other hand around my throat. Alina slumped in the corner of the settee, limp and unable to move.

“Are you that eager to die, little witch?” He chanted in a mix of Russian and Latin, a singsong rhythm that drew his ghosts in closer. Josef's voice rasped over my skin, tiny thorns of pain hidden in each word. The mask of Sam's face fell away completely and his grip on my throat tightened. Darkness reached for me, clouding my vision until all I saw was Josef's face. I clawed at his hands and face, desperate to get air, frantically trying to break free.

Death didn't frighten me. Having my spirit bound to him to use as he wished utterly terrified me. I raked my nails across his face, drawing blood. He smiled.

The dragon roared, deafening me. Josef stopped chanting, eyes full of shock and face slack with surprise. I didn't hear the second shot, but blood splattered the front of my dress and Josef staggered back, going to his knees. He touched his side and lifted his hand, staring at the blood on his fingers before pitching onto his face.

Dora moved farther into the room, a pistol gripped in both hands and her full attention on Josef. She glanced at me. “Are you all right?”

Josef groaned, his hand reaching for my ankle. His phantoms crowded closer and I edged away, fighting the need to cry, to scrub his blood from my clothes, my hands and face. I cleared my throat several times, trying to speak, but managed only a hoarse croak and a nod.