Bring Out Your Dead (3 page)

“
You’re stopping?
Pourquoi
?”

“
Because the man may be in
trouble.”

“
Run!” he yelled, spinning
around toward me. “Turn left at the end of the alley.”

His voice was strong and confident, not at
all like that of someone who was about to be overwhelmed by
imps.

“
Do as he says,” advised
the muffled voice. “He sounds
tres
Sexy Pants.”

“
I am doing it,” I
snapped, sprinting down the last half of the alley with only minor
injuries to my abused shins. I burst out into the lights of the
busy street, turned blindly, and raced straight into a
demon.

Pain exploded through my head and shoulder.
Sally shrieked, her high-pitched screams piercing the fog in my
brain and the stench of demon smoke. Woozy, I realized the demon
had instinctively thrown me off him, no doubt believing I was an
attacker. The pain, along with the sharp, coppery taste of blood
helped clear my head even as the demon focused its attention on
me.

“
Demon! Demon! Demon!”
Sally screamed from inside the backpack.

“
You smell of revenants,”
the demon said, sniffing the air. Its eyes narrowed on me as I got
painfully to my feet.

“
I mean you no harm,” I
said slowly, showing my palms so the demon would know I was
unarmed.

“
Get away, Belle!
Demon!
Zût alors
!
It will have you!”

My gesture of good faith
did little good. The demon snarled one word at me, a word that made
my blood curdle. “
Tattu!
”

I leaped backward as it lunged at me. If
only I hadn’t taken the tube. The imps never would have found me,
and I’d never have run into the delectably kissable man outside the
alley, and he’d never have sent me careening (intentionally, or
accidentally?) straight into the arms of one of the few beings who
could do me damage.

I whirled around, about to sprint away in a
desperate attempt to escape the demon, but at that moment the man
I’d kissed burst from the alley, flinging himself between the demon
and me.

I didn’t wait around to see whose side he
was on—I ran. Judging by the demonic curses and screams that
followed me, the man must have been an ally. When I stopped three
blocks away in a small square, one hand on my side to ease a stitch
as I gasped for air, there were no demon or imps in pursuit. No
mysterious man in a dark hat with glittery blue eyes, either.

“
Qu’est que
going on? Why have you stopped?”

For a moment, I was disappointed that the
stranger—back in the savior role—hadn’t followed me, but I quickly
regathered my wits.

“
Economy be damned,” I
said grimly, limping to the nearest taxi rank. “The streets aren’t
safe for someone like me.”

“
Vous
said it, sister.”

Ten minutes later, I limped my way up a few
stairs to a door to knock wearily, quickly straightening up when it
opened with a whoosh of air.

“
Tell me you’re the
tutor.”

“
I’m the
tutor.”

“
Oh, thank God.” The woman
who opened the glossy black door of the three-story town house
yanked me inside without any ceremony. She looked to be in her
mid-twenties, and bore a frazzled, wild glint in her eyes. “Ew!
What is that?” She asked, eying the paper bag I carried.

“
I’m so sorry. It was an
imp who got a little too personal with my leg. You know how they
are—they’ll mount anything that moves.”

“
Imps,” the woman said,
her eyes round with horror.

“
Il
former imp.”

I gave the bag a little shake to remind
Sally that I didn’t want her speaking until I’d had the chance to
check out my new employers. Not everyone is thrilled to see a tutor
who has a spirit guide following her everywhere.

The woman’s eyes widened even more at the
words emerging from my purse.

“
Ignore that,” I
said.

“
Yes, I think I’d better,”
she answered, her face tight. She said nothing more about either my
unsavory package or my talking bag, simply pulling me inside before
slamming the door behind us. She frowned a moment, opened the door
again, and dashed out to where the taxi driver was attempting to
merge back into traffic.

“
Save me from having to
order one,” she said breathlessly as she returned. She stopped in
front of me, running an agitated hand through her hair. “What’s
taken you so long? I thought you’d never come.”

I glanced at my watch. If she didn’t
appreciate hearing about the imp who had been hiding in the taxi, I
doubted she’d care to hear of the demon I’d run into earlier. “I
take it you’re Mrs. Tomas? I apologize for being late, but it is
only five minutes past my appointment time—”

“
It doesn’t matter, you’re
here now,” the woman said, grabbing a raincoat from a nearby chair.
I looked around the small entrance and noted the dark paneling on
the walls, marble tile, and sparse but elegant furnishings. I had
been told by the private tutoring agency I worked through that the
child I was being assigned had been sent down from an exclusive
boarding school. Coupled with what I could see of the house, I
assumed the family must be pretty financially comfortable. “I don’t
know where he is right now, and frankly, I don’t care. He’s
probably dismembering a cat or planning some evil crime against
nature or plotting to overthrow the government. I don’t know and I
don’t care! He’s your problem now. I’ve had all I can
take!”

“
Erm…”
He
, I took it, referred to my
pupil.

What a very odd response this woman had
toward her own son. She grabbed two large suitcases and her purse
before turning to face me again. “Yes?”

“
You’re Damian’s
mother?”

“
Goddess, no!” The woman
actually shuddered as she spoke.

“
Ah. Then you must be the
nanny. I was told there would be a new nanny. I’m Ysabelle
Raleigh.”

“
Was
.”

“
Pardon?”

“
I
was
the nanny. They hired me
yesterday, but I hereby quit. I don’t care how many bonuses they
pay me to stay with him while they’re gone, it’s not worth living
with that little monster.”

A loud crash sounded from the floor above,
startling me into an exclamation of surprise, but the agitated
woman in front of me didn’t even blink an eye. “Tell them they can
send my wages to me. They have the address.”

“
I’m sorry,” I said,
completely lost. “I don’t seem to follow you. You’re the nanny but
you’re quitting?”

“
Yes. You’re here now. I
didn’t leave him until you came—you can tell them that. But
he’s
your
problem
now!”

“
What in the name of all
that is
français
is going on?”

We both ignored my bag. “My problem? I
hardly see—”

“
That’s part of it, don’t
you understand?” She grabbed my arm in a tight grip, her eyes wild.
Outside, the taxi driver tapped on the horn. “Everything looks all
right, but it’s not. Not any of it. And if you can’t see that
before it’s too late, then all will be lost.”

Before I could ask for clarification, the
nanny grabbed her suitcases and hauled them out to the taxi driver.
“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back,” she told him.

I waited until she returned for the last of
her things. “I’m sorry, there seems to be some confusion. I’m not
here for the nanny job. I’m just here to tutor—” I dug out the
employment card. “Damian Tomas, male child, age ten.”

The woman paused dramatically in the
doorway. “If you take my advice, you’ll clear out right now. The
monster can take care of himself.”

“
Monster?” asked a muffled
voice. “
Qui est le
monster?”

I desperately clung to shreds of hope that
it was all a big misunderstanding, but sneaky little tendrils of
dread kept tugging at me. “What about his parents?”

“
Got away while they
could. Smart people.” She grabbed a cloth bag and a cardboard box,
sending a glance of loathing at the ceiling before pinning me back
with a look that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on
end. “Be afraid, tutor. Be very afraid. Guard your
soul.”

My mouth opened in surprise, but before I
could form a coherent sentence, she shoved her things at the taxi
driver and got into the black car, slamming the door behind
her.

“
The hell!” Sally
said.

I watched the nanny leave, slowly turning to
look at the stairs behind me. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a
bit worried.”

“
Une
bit is all?”

“
Well…all right, more than
a bit. What could be so wrong with a child that he drove away his
nanny in less than a day?”

“
Merde!
” Sally swore. “
Vous
…
vous
…oh, this silly language. Belle,
you have to get away!
Vit, vit!
But first take me out of
le
bag.”

“
I’m not taking you out
until I know it’s all right—”

A rhythmic pounding started upstairs,
interrupting both my sentence and my thoughts.

“
Allez,
allez!
” Sally urged, the purse beginning
to twitch.

I squared my shoulders. “You know there’s
not a lot that can scare me.” Brave words considering the feeling
of dread that permeated my bones, leaving me with the unwavering
suspicion that I had just gotten myself into a situation way over
my head. I marched to the bottom of the stairs. “Hello? Is someone
there? My name is Ysabelle. I’m the tutor.”

The pounding stopped. A hushed, expectant
feeling settled over the house.

“
Ce n’est pas
normal.”

“
Hush.” I took a deep
breath. “There’s nothing to fear from a small child, not even one
who frightens nannies.”

Sally snorted. I set down the backpack and
started up the stairs. Before I got halfway, a head poked around
the corner and looked down at me.

“
Hello. I’m Ysabelle. You
must be Damian.” I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was
holding. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but the boy in
front of me looked perfectly normal. Dark blue eyes watched me from
beneath two thick slashes of eyebrows. He held a hammer in one
hand, a small can in another. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you
working on some home-repair project?”

As I rounded the landing and walked up the
last few stairs, Damian frowned. “Where’s Abby?”

“
Is that your
nanny?”

“
I’m too old to have a
nanny,” he said, scorn dripping from his words. He had a slight
accent that sounded vaguely Germanic to my ears. “She was here to
watch the house while my dad and Nell are away.”

“
Nell being
your…stepmother?” I guessed.

He nodded, turning to stride down the dark
upper hall. I followed, looking around for signs that the boy had
been engaged in nefarious acts, but there was nothing I could see.
From what I could glimpse through the partly opened doors, the
upper floor contained only bedrooms. None of them held dismembered
cats, evidence of crimes, or mechanisms to overthrow the
government. Abby the ex-nanny must have been of a high-strung
personality not at all suited to the care of a child.

“
She smells.”

“
Pardon?” I stopped in the
doorway to the room Damian entered. I judged by the clothing strewn
on the floor, the TV on but blessedly silent, and the number of
electronic toys and game machines that this was his room. Two
windows looked down on the square outside, but Damian had nailed a
couple of dirty planks across one window, shutting out all light.
He hefted a flat piece of board, grunting a little before glancing
over his shoulder at me. “Nell. She smells. Are you going to stand
there or help me?”

Autocratic little…I stopped before I could
even think the word, and reminded myself that I had promised the
tutoring agency I was good with children. “Perhaps you’d like to
tell me why you’re boarding up your windows?”

“
Because—” He plucked a
nail from the can he’d set on a small desk and wrestled the board
into place. At another arrogant glance, I obligingly held up one
corner of the board so he could nail it into place across the
window. “Sebastian is coming.”

“
He is? Does he always
come in through the windows?” I relaxed. Why didn’t the agency tell
me the boy was special-needs? No doubt the nanny had been unable or
unwilling to deal with a child who had a different way of looking
at life, but that was nothing new to me.

Damian shot me another look filled with
scorn. “He can’t use the door. Nell warded it. And the windows on
the lower floor, but she didn’t do the upper ones.”

“
I see. Who exactly is
Sebastian?”

“
He’s my dad’s enemy. He
tried to kill Nell and Papa. Now he’s coming for me.”

“
He’s coming for you?” I
added paranoia to my list of qualities most evident about
Damian.