Night of Demons - 02 (6 page)

It turned out that Miss Tollburn drove a powder blue Jaguar convertible, an XK, barely six months old. I caught up with it a minute after I had swung back onto the main road. But then I hung carefully back, a good distance behind it, with my lights switched off. Like I pointed out, I’m better at this than Saul.

It kept on disappearing behind bends, then coming back in view again. Millicent had the hood down, in spite of the weather. And her tires were kicking up a good deal of spray, sending it into the air behind her in corkscrewing plumes. She’d untied her hair, which played out in the wind. But there seemed nothing carefree or relaxed about her. She was heading further uphill, taking the wet curves at a reckless speed. My old Caddy was pretty stable, but I still had trouble keeping up.

Plymouth Drive straightened for a while, the streetlamps showing half a mile of it at a continuous stretch. A dense wall topped with spikes flashed past and then, shortly after that, we went by Judge Levin’s handsome residence. Up ahead of me, there was a momentary gleam of yellow light. I thought at first that she might be using magic, but she’d only lit a cigarette.

Then the road described another huge bend, climbing ever steeper. And by the time we’d crossed the final intersection, there was little doubt where we were heading.

That made me a lot less happy, and I hadn’t been too cheerful in the first place. We were going to the very summit of the hill. And there was only one house up there. My least favorite in town. Raine Manor.

The Jaguar finally drew up to the front gates, which had rusted open long ago. You couldn’t even see the place, its grounds were so chaotically overgrown. You’d need a Sherman tank to make your way down its long, gravel driveway. Roots and saplings were pushing out through it everywhere you looked. Some of the latter were becoming full-blown trees. The only part of the house you could properly make out was the spire that Woody had added about a year back. It belonged on a church really, but that hadn’t seemed to have occurred to him. There was a huge capital W at its apex, standing like a second Cassiopeia against the night sky. N for “nut” would have been more appropriate.

By the time she was climbing out, I had parked back at the last bend in the road and then stepped up behind a tree trunk. Water was still dripping from it, but I ignored that. I watched while Millicent headed—at a brisk, stiff pace—in the direction of the mansion. And let her disappear into the gloom before I followed.

Once past the gates, a chill descended around my shoulders. It seemed to get worse, the further in I went. There’d been no coldness to the air the last time I had been up here. So…was Woody’s frame of mind affecting his environment even more pronouncedly than usual?

The grounds had gotten even more shambolic since I’d last walked through them. No one ever tended them at all. The spindly, leafless branches of the trees on either side of me had grown longer and meshed together, forming a wide canopy. I could barely make out the stars any more. And something rather large was on the move up there, making the twigs shake and rattle. I tried to get a look at it. Caught a glimpse of an unusual shape with wings, then took in the fact that it had two heads. It had spilled, in other words, out of Woodard Raine’s insane imagination. I’m not sure he even knows it, but he keeps on doing things like that. My heart missed several of its next few beats. But the creature moved away from me, disappearing quickly.

Which was what passes for something good happening, in this neck of the woods. I swore, and kept on heading through the clustered shadows.

A cloud of mosquitoes, with bodies the length of cocktail sticks, descended on me, whining dismally around my ears. A few of them tried to land—to feed presumably, which made my flesh crawl. But I could still hear Millicent’s crackling footfalls up ahead. So I batted at them and pressed on.

Finally, the mansion came in view. The moon had come partway out, catching the building at a curious angle. Traces of mist hung around its corners. The wind chimes that he’d hung around it last time I’d been here were gone. They’d never chimed when they were supposed to anyway, so he had probably grown bored with them.

The gargoyles on the roof were all asleep, mere hunched, darkened shapes by this hour. I knew they sometimes moved around. One of the place’s countless windows had no glass left in it, and was expanding and contracting like the mouth of a big fish. I stared at it bemusedly. What the hell was that about? But with Woody, as usual, there was no real way of telling.

His family had founded this town. Theodore Raine, his illustrious ancestor, was the face on the big bronze statue down in Union Square. And I often wondered. If they’d known how their bloodline was going to end up, would they even have bothered in the first place?

They had practiced magic regularly since the early seventeen hundreds. You’d have thought they would have got used to its strange twists and caprices. But in Woody’s case, the use of it had turned him—at first—agoraphobic. And then totally deranged.

Nothing could be seen beyond the windows. They were ordinary glass so far as I knew, but didn’t let light in or out. So the panes appeared completely black, like they’d been painted that way. The front doors were shut when I approached the porch. Millicent had already gone inside. I’d no clue what she had come here for. I’d been unaware, until this point, that Woody entertained visitors in the normal sense. But the kind of work that I find myself mixed up with often involves a lot of waiting. And so that was what I did.

Did Raine know that I was here? In spite of his madness, he was still extremely powerful. An awful lot came to his attention. He was the first person who had warned me of Saruak’s arrival in our town. But the trouble was you could never genuinely tell what he was going to do with the knowledge he collected, or even how real he thought it was. In a mind as warped as his, it might all be regarded like some kind of weird illusion. I scuffed at the mud and gravel at my feet, then wandered around to the mansion’s west side.

Something heavy began rustling about in the undergrowth near me. I tried to ignore it as best I could. But I really hated being out here. There was no anticipating what was roaming through these grounds. All kinds of bizarre things come out of Woody’s mind. When you’re around him, the impossible can become a living fact, with texture, form, and substance.

I stopped in front of the west wing. The soot stains were still there above the shattered windows. And the roof, already weakened by the fire that had gutted it, looked like the rain had damaged it even more. It was hanging inward like a long stretch of damp cardboard. This part of the mansion hadn’t been touched since his parents had both died here, more than six years back. Except that nature had now started playing its part in the equation, ivy winding thickly through the broken panes. Dandelions were sprouting in the gutters. If he didn’t do something about it soon, this whole section of his house would fall apart.

It was possible he didn’t even notice it enough to care. Woody had always been a spoilt, unruly brat. But the night his parents died had marked the onset of his plunge into dementia. For all I knew, he’d blanked the whole thing out by this time.

This was one of those occasions when I thoroughly agreed with Cass. The inner workings of the very rich could be extremely tiresome.

About ten minutes passed before I heard the front door come back open. I returned to the corner and then ducked into the shadows there. I could see Millicent moving away from me along the drive, the fragmented gloom gathering her up. And waited until she was gone from sight before walking quickly to the porch.

My presence had been noted. Because Hampton—Raine’s manservant—was waiting for me just inside. He had on his dark blue uniform, but was wearing a pair of maroon carpet slippers too, which didn’t exactly set the outfit off very well. A massively round man, his skin tanned a light brown color, he was walleyed, one iris green, the other yellow.

He was not such a bad guy really, considering who his employer was. But he didn’t look overly pleased to see me, and I wondered why.

“I’ve been asked to tell you, Mr. Devries”—his voice was high-pitched for a man that size—“that you’re trespassing here and you should go away.”

Which was not the kind of reception I had been expecting. The last time I’d been up here, I had been in Raine’s employ. And he had even tried to help me, in his own disoriented way. But “changeable” is one of his numerous middle names. I tried not to look too taken aback.

“Seriously?” I asked him. “I thought me and Woods were on good terms?”

The big fellow glowered at me.

“I’d thank you not to keep on calling Master Woodard ‘Woods’ or ‘Woody.’ He doesn’t like it, and neither do I. He’s expressly instructed me to see you off the premises, if that becomes necessary. And be assured, I’ll do it.”

Or he’d at least try. His bulk was fat, not muscle, so it didn’t sound like too much of a threat. I’m six foot two, I used to be a cop, and I had a Smith & Wesson tucked inside my coat.

But this show of animosity—it seemed like an act on behalf of his employer. I saw that almost right away. He actually looked uneasy, talking to me in this fashion. Hampton had even saved my life one time. But—given the straight choice—he would always choose to be on Woody’s side. The man was a loyal employee to a considerable fault.

I thought it best to try and reason with him.

“Look, I understand that your boss has these little mood swings. All of us get that. But if you knew what’d been going on, you’d see that this isn’t the time for stupid games.”

“No game, sport,” came a taut voice from the darkness behind Hampton. “I know why you’re here. I’ve got your number, you might say. And I’m not having it, not in the least bit. No.”

I craned my neck, trying to make Raine out. But he usually dresses in drab colors, which makes that a problem in the dark. So I let my head drop back and shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to appear relaxed.

“Not having what, exactly?” I inquired.

I almost flinched as his fruity tones washed around me a second time.

“Not having rudeness, interference, prying. Learn your limitations, Mr. Private Spy. Ms. Tollburn is a friend of mine.”

I didn’t know he had any of those. But then I remembered something. Back in their wild youths, she’d run with his crowd several times. I’d no idea how thick she had been with him, but it seemed that she was cashing in on old connections.

The fact that she counted as an acquaintance of his made me trust her even less. And I hadn’t trusted her that much in the first place.

“She came here,” Raine went on, “to speak with me in confidence. To impart certain, private, things. And do you really imagine you can just walk up and ask me to divulge them, like some fishwife in a Laundromat? I think not, sport. I really do not.”

It wasn’t simply his house that he kept on changing. He had altered himself physically in several ways down the last few years. Didn’t even look like a normal human being any longer. Most notably, his eyes were twice the size they had originally been. They now had slitted pupils, like a cat’s. And they shone like bright gold beacons.

So…right at this moment his eyes were shut, I guessed. That was why I could not see him. He often did that, even while talking. Another indication of the state his mind was in. I was reduced to staring where I thought he might be, which did not feel very comfortable. Pretty much like talking to a disembodied voice.

“You’re always telling me how much you care about this town,” I pointed out.

“Of course I do. Of that there is no doubt.”

His own bizarre take on reality again. And if I hadn’t been used to it then it would have annoyed me. The fact was, most of the time he remained totally aloof, even when the Landing was under dire threat. But there was no point trying to argue with him. Any action like that was a waste of breath. The only thing I could do was pretend to believe him and press on.

“Its oldest adept is dead, murdered, as of tonight. And something from his place is missing, probably something magical. By the way your
friend
went after it, important too. A stone killer’s gotten hold of it. How good does that sound?”

A pair of huge eyes suddenly sprang open beyond Hampton’s shoulder. I practically lurched back. It wasn’t just the sheer abruptness with which they’d appeared. When I had last met with Raine, they’d been a golden yellow. Now, they’d turned considerably darker, practically a glowing bronze. And the pupils, although still slitted, had shrunken to a smaller size. As if they were diminishing into the distance. Physically retreating from our world.

A shudder ran through me. There was no use trying to hide it. What had brought about this change? Whatever, I was pretty certain he was getting worse, his madness devouring him and growing more intense.

He didn’t move. The twin orbs hung there in the dimness. Then his voice came oozing out beneath them.

“This is not a matter for the general public’s gaze, Devries. Whatever has happened is the sole concern of those involved. And we can deal with it perfectly well, without any help from your sort.”

My what? He might have always been a self-important little S.O.B., but he’d never spoken to me that way before. Even Hampton looked embarrassed.

But Raine’s attitude was catching my interest far more than offending me. The way that he was behaving made one thing pretty obvious. Whatever might be going on, it was something major. The fine hairs prickled on my wrists when I realized that.

“Go away,” he snarled at me.

But I just stood there, waiting to see how far he’d take this.

“Go away before I make you go.”

Which was the first time that he’d ever really threatened me. He’d always been a stickler for old values like hospitality. But it seemed even that was gone. Those incandescent eyes of his were not even blinking. I had no doubt that he could do something pretty awful to me if he got a mind to. But I’ve always stood up to adepts, and wasn’t about to let him brush me off like this. I wanted the satisfaction, if nothing else, of having the final word.