Smoke and Mirrors (56 page)

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Authors: Tanya Huff

BOOK: Smoke and Mirrors
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“Way to pander to the old ego.”
“What?”
“Never mind. You think God . . .”
“Not God. Me.
I
need to make amends.”
Ah. That was different.
She waved the cut end of the rope at him. “This will help, thank you. I can do much more now than if I was just hanging around.”
Joke? He wasn't sure. She looked perfectly serious. “If the rope's cut, how come I can still hear it creaking?”
“The house remembers.”
Before he could decide if that was something he should seriously freak out about, the stairs were empty. “So, um, maybe I'll see you again?”

You know where to find me.”
Fair enough.
The night caught up to him as he started down the stairs. By the time he staggered past the cat, events were sitting on his shoulders and bouncing, trying to drive him to his knees. He grabbed the edge of the kitchen table. Heard shouting. May have heard his name although his ears didn't seem to be working properly. Or they weren't connecting to his brain properly. There seemed to be a lot of high-pitched howling going on. He stumbled toward the back door. It was open about four inches to allow the bundles of cable access to the house.
“Ha!” he said to no one in particular as he grabbed the edge and yanked it open.
A step out into fresh air.
Another step.
More voices.
Another step and he was falling.
Either I'm walking crooked or the porch is.
Funny thing, he didn't hit the ground.
“I've got you.”
Not the voice he was expecting. He blinked and, like he was suddenly Samantha Stevens and that whole blinking thing actually meant something, the world came rushing back. The man holding him was blonder than Henry. Bigger, too. Smelled like stale pizza and . . . law enforcement.
“Constable Elson.”
“So you can talk.”
“For years now.” He was oddly comfortable cradled across the lap of an RCMP officer.
Not going to think about
that
too hard.
“You know, since I busted my butt to keep you from landing chin first in gravel, you think you could lay off the smart-ass for a minute?”
Seemed fair. “Sure.”
“What the hell happened here?”
Best to stick to the basics. “The doors wouldn't open.”
“That door
was
open.”
Tony turned his head just far enough to see the cables running up over the porch and into the kitchen. Then he turned it back. Jack Elson had very blue eyes and they were locked on his. Not at all hard to tell what he wanted. “You want the truth.” Given his current state of exhaustion, Tony found it impossible to stop his lips from twitching.
“Do
not
tell me I can't handle the truth!” Elson snapped.
Fortunately, he didn't have the energy to laugh for long. Even more fortunate that he didn't have the energy for hysterics because he sure as hell was due. He half expected the constable to dump him onto the driveway but he didn't. Finally he managed a long, shuddering breath, and said, “
I
can't handle the truth right now. Can I tell you later?”
The blue eyes narrowed and examined his face.
Tony tried to look trustworthy but gave it up after a second or two as a lost cause.
“That depends on when later is.”
“Not now?”
After a long moment, narrow lips curved, pale stubble glinting in the porch light.
Something growled.
No. Tony knew that sound. Some
one
growled. “Henry.”
“Your partner is calling for you, Constable Elson.”
A familiar pale hand reached down, took hold of Tony, and lifted him to his feet. Then the arm attached to the hand went around his waist and effortlessly kept him standing. Constable Elson rose under his own power, eyes locked on Henry's face. Given his reaction, Tony could tell without looking that Henry had the Prince of Man thing going full blast and would, in a heartbeat or two, slide into Prince of Darkness. Not a good idea. Not tonight. Not here. Not now. He just wasn't up to it. So he said, “Call me. You have my number.”
A long look, and a nod, and Elson trotted off to where Constable Danvers was directing a crowd of police and EMTs. Ah. Not howling. Sirens.
Glad to have that explained, he turned in Henry's grip. “So you're still here.”
“Obviously.”
“It must be nearly dawn.”
“Nearly. I have forty minutes.”
Tony actually felt his heart lurch. “You can't . . .”
“It's all right. I'll wrap up in the blackout curtain in my trunk.”
“In your trunk?”
“It's a big trunk, it's lightproof, and once I'm in it, it can only be opened from the inside. I've made some modifications.”
“You were prepared for this?” Relief made his knees weak. Well, relief on top of everything else.
“This? Not likely. But I was prepared.” Henry pulled his keys out of his pocket and offered them discreetly on his palm. “Can you drive me back to the condo's garage?”
“Sure.”
“Think about it for a moment, Tony. Can you?”
If he didn't . . . “Of course I can.”
“You look terrible.”
That didn't exactly come as a surprise. “You look kind of off peak yourself.”
“It was an interesting night.”
His tone suggested Tony let it go. Reluctantly, Tony did.
The keys were cool and heavier than they looked. Which reminded him. He moved so that Henry's body blocked him from the milling crowds out front and he stretched out his left hand toward the house. Caulfield's journal slapped against the pattern on his palm.
“Impressive.”
“Thanks.” He hadn't doubted for a moment he'd be able to do it. Had known where the journal was, touched the shape of its power, and had called it to him. It hadn't even hurt. Much. He'd come a long way in a short time from bagels and honey. “You need to take charge of this. I don't trust anyone else with it.”
Henry's lip curled at the touch of the leather. “It feels familiar.”
“I think Caulfield found what was intended to be another grimoire like the one you have, but it hadn't been written in yet, so he made it his own.” He frowned at Henry's expression. “I think!”
The expression changed; quickly enough that Tony knew he'd called it close to right. “Of course you do. I have to go.”
“I know.”
“You're all right?”
“I'm fine.”
The hug drove the breath out of his lungs and gave him some indication of how much Henry had worried. Then he was gone, moving up the driveway in such a way that it was hard to watch him. Even with practice. Another man would have seen only shadows. Tony knew the difference.
He frowned as Henry was suddenly very visibly standing at CB's side. The big man put his hand on Henry's shoulder for a moment, nodded, smiled, and then Henry was gone.
Henry and CB?
Tony didn't like the look of that. His hand tightened around the keys.
Sure Henry came to the set on occasion and maybe he'd helped defeat the shadows last spring, but CB was his. CB Productions was his. Not Henry's.
What the hell had been going on out here?
“So the spirits have done it all in one night.”
He grinned and met Amy halfway.
“I brought your laptop out.”
“Thanks.” Tucking it under his arm he fell into step beside her.
“I think he likes you.”
“Who?”
“RCMP Special Constable Jack Elson. You guys going to get together?”
“I don't date straight boys.”
“Right. They're taking Everett to the hospital,” she said, breaking the chaos swirling around them into chunks. “Tina made some calls and she's going with him.”
“Good.”
“You should maybe think about a trip yourself. You look like crap.”
“Maybe later. And thank you.”
“There're cops swarming all over the bodies. They seem to get what happened with Brenda and Hartley, but Tom's giving them palpitations. Good thing there's a full body print of him on that window.”
“Word.”
“Brianna won't let go of Zev's hand, and Mason's actually being kind of sweet to Ashley. Although I think he's using her as a distraction, so he doesn't grab a smoke in front of witnesses. He's a star, you know, got to keep up appearances.”
Mason was still wearing Raymond Dark's fangs. Ashley was still wearing Mason's jacket.
“Whatever works.”
She snorted. “You're feeling mellow.”
“It's not mellow, it's exhaustion. You know, that moment of clarity just before you puke?”
“And wouldn't that be the perfect end. Speaking of perfect ends, what have you got on your ass? And don't get too excited about the perfect bit,” she added through a yawn. “It was just a convenient segue.”
Between twisting and dragging his jeans around, he managed to see a small heart. Two pieces. Drawn in white paint, each line thick at the top and then trailing off at the end.
“I wrote half and Cassie wrote half . . .”
“So what is it?”
“I'm pretty sure it's a happy ending.”
She bumped her shoulder with his. About as sucky as Amy got. Four-hundred-year-old vampires hugged. Amy bumped. “Speaking of, I think someone wants to talk to you.”
He turned instinctively toward where Zev and Brianna stood by CB.
“Idiot.” Amy took hold of his shoulders and turned him toward Lee sitting in the open back of an ambulance, a blanket draped over his slumped shoulders.
“He doesn't . . .”
She shoved him forward. “Yes, he does.”
Yes, he did. That was obvious when Tony came closer.
“You okay?” Stupid question. The man was sitting in an ambulance.
“I guess. I don't know. They want to check me out. Thanks for . . . uh . . .”
“The T-shirt?” Tony offered hurriedly. He had no idea of how much Lee remembered of the basement, but he wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.
Lee stared at him for a long moment, then he smiled. There was nothing of Caulfield in it. Tony felt his heart start beating again as a fear he hadn't been willing to admit was banished. Since leaving the house, his heart had been having a rough time of it.
“Yeah. For the T-shirt.”
“All right, Mr. Nicholas, let's go.” The EMT began to step up into the ambulance, got a good look at Tony, and paused. “Has someone seen you?”
“Seen me?”
“Have you received attention from emergency personnel?”
Tony wondered if she always talked like that or if Lee's presence was making her self-conscious. “No.”
“Wait right there.” She pointed to a spot about a meter from the back of the ambulance. “There'll be another team along shortly. Now, Mr. Nicholas . . .”
Lee raised his head. “Could you give us a minute?”
She hesitated.
“Please.”
And melted.
“But no more than a minute,” she warned as she moved just out of eavesdropping range.
Lee took a deep breath. Hesitated. Visibly remembered their time limit and said quietly, “When I kissed you. I wasn't kissing Brenda's ghost.”
Tony blinked, but it was still Lee. “Good,” he managed. “And, you know, eww.”
“Yeah.”
That howling was back in his ears again. Not a siren this time. “So what happens now?” he asked as the EMT tapped her watch and pointedly climbed on board.
Lee shrugged. “The show goes on.”
“I meant . . .”
His smile held regret and something a little lost as the doors closed. “I know.”
 
Also by TANYA HUFF
 
SMOKE AND SHADOWS
SMOKE AND MIRRORS
SMOKE AND ASHES
 
BLOOD PRICE
BLOOD TRAIL
BLOOD LINES
BLOOD PACT
BLOOD DEBT
 
SING THE FOUR QUARTERS
FIFTH QUARTER
NO QUARTER
THE QUARTERED SEA
 
The Keeper's Chronicles
SUMMON THE KEEPER
THE SECOND SUMMONING
LONG HOT SUMMONING
 
OF DARKNESS, LIGHT AND FIRE
 
WIZARD OF THE GROVE
 
The Confederation Novels
VALOR'S CHOICE
THE BETTER PART OF VALOR

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