Summoning the Night (34 page)

My heart was beating so fast I thought it might break through my chest. I could hear Lon behind Dare, telling him to leave me alone, but his voice might as well been a mile away.

Dare's head dropped lower. He spoke directly in my ear. “A lifetime of service. I own you now. Me, Ambrose Dare, and
the Hellfire Club, not your occult order, the E∴E∴ Do you understand me . . .
Sélène Duval
?”

My skin grew cold. My pulse was faster than a hummingbird's wings. The sound of the crowd receded. There was nothing but Dare's voice in my ear, even as it lowered to the barest whisper:
“I know who you are now.”

Halloween.

Our busiest night at the bar, and I wouldn't be there. Kar Yee wasn't happy. Neither was Jupe as he dumped Mr. Piggy's crate on my coffee table late that afternoon and shrugged his backpack off his shoulder. “Worst birthday,
ever
,” he grumbled.

I had to agree. I pocketed my phone and ran a hand through the back of Jupe's frizzy hair. Foxglove's sleek black form trotted around my living room, sniffing every corner and cataloging all the strange scents that her keen Lab nose encountered; it was her first visit here. Last night after the parade disaster, Lon and I drove back to La Sirena and took turns checking on Jupe while he slept. Today we made a new plan and filled the SUV like Noah's Ark, loading up every person and beast, minus the Holidays, and drove here to my place.

I hadn't slept or eaten. My stomach was still twisted in knots from an attempted summoning earlier in the day. Two attempted summonings, actually, both of them failures. Chora didn't appear, which meant that he wasn't in the Æthyr during the daytime. Merrin had lied. Big surprise. I wondered if
he really had an Æthyric spell that could call Chora on this plane, or if that was just a lie, too.

When I caught my reflection in the window, I couldn't believe it was me. Then again, maybe I didn't recognize myself because I didn't really know who I was anymore. Sélène was supposed to be buried in my past, along with my dead parents. The only connection I had to that life was through E∴E∴, and that was minimal at best these days.

Hadn't I suffered enough? I just wanted it all to go away. I wanted a nice, normal life. No Moonchild, no FBI, no serial-killer parents. No looking over my shoulder and being constantly afraid. But Dare wouldn't let that happen now.

“Trick-or-treating is banned throughout the entire county? How can that be legal?” Jupe complained.

Lon ignored him. “There are too many windows in here. The house ward will keep Merrin from coming inside, but it won't stop a bullet if he shoots through the window.”

“Your place has twice as much glass,” I argued.

“Either way, I'm
not
going to Dare's house,” Jupe said as he opened the door to Mr. Piggy's crate and pulled out the hedgehog. “No way. I hate all those kids. I'm not gonna sit around in some rich guy's panic room all night like a sitting duck.”

“I already told you that you didn't have to,” Lon said. “He can kiss my ass.”

“Good,” Jupe said. “Besides, Foxglove will warn us if anything comes. If she can see ghosts, she can see anything.”

Lon smoothed a thumb down one side of his mustache. “We could leave town. We've got a good four, five hours of daylight left.”

“You know I can't do that,” I said. “And I don't want you and Jupe to be unprotected halfway down the coast. We stick
to our plan—you stay here with Jupe, and I'm going to get far away from both of you and meet up with Dare's people.”

“And then what? I know you're planning something.”

I darted a glance at Jupe.

“Go to the kitchen,” Lon said. “Cady and I need to talk in private.”

“I can hear you in the kitchen,” Jupe argued. “It's still daytime. I'll just go outside.”

“No,”
Lon and I said in unison.

He crossed long arms over his chest. “I'm the one who's the damn target. You might as well say what you're going to say in front of me.”

“He's right. No secrets,” I said, giving Lon a soft smile. I wilted onto the couch and curled up on my side like a cooked shrimp. “I'm taking Hajo with us to track down the kid who was taken off the Halloween float last night.”

“Hajo?” Jupe said. “Who's Hajo?”

“Are you kidding me?” Lon said. “Absolutely not. Is that who you were on the phone with earlier?”

“No. I was on the phone with Bob and then Dare. Bob already arranged things with Hajo. He's coming here to pick me up—”

Every muscle in Lon's neck strained in anger. “You're inviting a junkie into your house—”

“Junkie?” Jupe said.

“—who wants to get in your pants—”

“Wait,
what
?” Jupe's interest was now fully piqued. “Who wants to get in your pants?”

“Will both of you please shut up?” I said in exasperation. “Bob is coming to take me to Hajo. He will stay with me the entire time, along with a couple of Dare's men.” I glanced at Jupe. “No one's getting in anyone's pants. Your dad is being dramatic.”

“My dad? Dramatic?” Jupe snorted. “The Æthyr just froze over.”

“Cady,” Lon pleaded.

“I don't want to do this—believe me. But if there's a chance that Hajo can track the kid's energy—”

“He tracks dead things. How do we even know he can track someone alive? What if he was just bragging?”

“He says he'll try. Do you have a better idea? Because if you do, I'll call him back right now and cancel the whole thing.”

“What about Cindy Brolin?”

I looked at him in confusion.

“At Starry Market. She said she was having nightmares, remember? Maybe they weren't just old memories. She was the one who got away—what if Chora has been possessing her against her will, without her knowledge?”

Jupe gave Lon a questioning look. “Cindy Brolin could be the Snatcher?”

“She works night shift at the market,” I said. “Which means she sleeps during the day. The demon is possessing someone who's taking the kids during the night—when she's at work.”

“Maybe she did it on her days off,” Lon said, but without much conviction.

“Call the market and give the manager some legitimate-sounding reason for him to tell you when she worked the last two weeks,” I said. “If her off-time overlaps with the snatchings, then Hajo and I can start looking there.”

Silence fell.

“What does he want in payment this time?” Lon asked quietly.

“I didn't ask.”

After a few moments, Lon walked around the sofa and slouched next to me. He pulled me closer. I laid my head against his chest and closed my eyes. “Think about boarding up some of the windows or holing up in the basement. I need to rest now. Wake me if you discover anything damning about Cindy Brolin's schedule.”

Lon agreed and I took a restless nap on the couch. He didn't wake me after calling the market; Cindy Brolin had worked during all six kidnappings—she wasn't involved.

Bob was late. He pulled up in my driveway just before twilight. Foxglove barked her head off, circling his legs. “Oh! I don't like dogs,” he said, jumping to the side.

I tugged Foxglove's collar. “Dogs don't seem to like you either. Get inside.”

Upon entering my house, Bob greeted Lon in a cheerfully strained voice. “Mr. Butler.”

Lon didn't answer.

Bob's smile cracked. He looked beyond Lon. “This must be your son.”

Jupe paused
The Mummy
—“The good one from 1932, with Boris Karloff,” he had told me, when I mistook it for the newer franchise—and inspected Bob with curiosity. “Are you the junkie?”

“No, this is my friend Bob,” I said. “I know him from Tambuku. He's a healer,” I added, just to make sure Jupe disconnected Bob from the junkie thing.

“Oh, cool,” Jupe said. “I like your shirt.”

More hula girls. At least it was PG and not an R-rated one—Hawaiian leis covered their breasts.

“It's vintage,” Bob said.

“That's pretty cool. I like old stuff.”

Bob cleared his throat. “Uh, Cady said it was your birthday. I brought some Halloween candy.” He offered Jupe a plastic bag shaped like an upside-down witch hat.

Jupe gave him a toothy smile. “Wow! Thanks, man.”

Lon's face told me everything he was thinking, namely that this was a violation of Jupe's no-sugar rule, and that he was considering the possibility that Bob had filled the candy with razor blades. I put a hand on Lon's arm and shook my head. It was the boy's birthday, for Pete's sake.

“Hey, do you know Kar Yee, too?” Jupe asked.

“Sure. I see her every day.”

“Every day? Do you work there or something?”

“He likes tiki drinks,” I said.

Jupe eyed him suspiciously. “You must like them a lot.”

“Cady's the best bartender in the city,” Bob said proudly.

“She makes good smoothies,” Jupe said matter-of-factly. “But my dad's a better cook.”

Don't spare my feelings, kid.

Bob leaned against the sofa while I got my jacket. “So,” he said, still attempting to woo Lon's good grace through his son, “I heard all the schools had closed in La Sirena. What about yours?”

“Yep. Good thing, too. It was getting crazy stressful up in that place.”

“Oh?”

“The teachers turned into tyrants. I've got this one teacher, Ms. Forsythe, who's really cool, but she's super-religious, and she's always giving me extra homework for cussing in class, because she says it's wrong.” Jupe rolled his eyes. “But she was so stressed out the day the school closed that she said ‘I don't give a damn' in front of one of the parents.” Jupe gave a single, loud laugh. “I almost lost my shit. It was awesome. I wonder if she'll have go to confession for that?”

“Jupe,” Lon warned halfheartedly.

Bob shifted. Foxglove started barking again.

“Hush, you damn mutt,” Jupe complained. “We're in the city tonight. You can't act like that here.”

Bob moved away from the dog as she quieted. “What did you say her name was?”

“Foxglove,” Jupe said as he forced her to sit.

“No, your teacher.”

“Oh. Ms. Forsythe. Why? You know her?”

I zipped up my jacket. My ear was ringing. I tilted my head to the side and jostled it. “Bob lives here in Morella, Jupe. He doesn't know her.”

“Ms. Forsythe lives out here in Morella, too,” Jupe argued. “She just works in La Sirena.”

Bob had a strange look on his face. “Grace Forsythe?”

“Yeah, Gracie. That's what the other teachers call her,” Jupe said.

“That's weird,” Bob said to me. “When he said she was religious, I thought he meant traditionally. But”—he glanced back at Jupe and lowered his voice, speaking to me conspiratorially—“Grace Forsythe goes to that, uh, temple you were asking me about the other day.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“She used to be a patient at my father's clinic before he died. All the Silent Temple members went to him.”

I have the support of my church. I'm quite blessed.

“Oh . . . God,” I murmured as I blinked at Lon. “Could it be?”

“No,” Lon insisted. “I know Grace. I can read her. If she's involved, she has no idea.”

She was being used. Merrin was the getaway driver. Ms. Forsythe was unknowingly possessed by the duke.

Thirty years ago, Bishop was the getaway driver and Merrin was possessed by the duke. Only, Merrin was willing. Merrin struck the deal with the demon, but he was too weak to host him; too human. Merrin found someone stronger. Bishop's old house was near the school. Ms. Forsythe worked at the school. She knew all the Earthbound kids. She was a member of the Silent Temple.

She was easy prey.

“Dad, what's going on?”

Lon grimaced. “We can't be sure, Jupe. I know she's innocent—”

“No—that sound. Can't you hear it? Foxglove's whining. Where is that coming from?”

My ringing ears.

A shadow darkened the living room window, blocking out the setting sun.

Someone was testing the wards.

The shadow shifted out of sight. The ringing continued intermittently—softer, then louder.