"As I said—it remains a possibility."
Jade closed the book she'd been reading. She shook her head. "The answer is here, somewhere. I don't believe that Finn Douglas can be that dual—even if possessed by a demon."
"He does have a certain charm," Lucian commented dryly, but he was smiling, and Jade knew it.
"When he talks about Megan, you can see… he would rather die than ever hurt her."
"People don't always have that choice."
"I think you're wrong," Jade said.
"Maybe I should have sent you out to meet people," he said.
"Oh?"
He shook his head. "Either everyone I've come across is as pure as the driven snow, or the protection Bac-Dal can provide is immense. I'm managing to do nothing but make people wary."
"No hint of anything from anyone?"
"No," he said, and stood. "I'm blinded here, in a way I've never been before."
"You got us a room in an overbooked hotel," she reminded him. "And I hear some ladies downed their coffee quickly; that's for certain."
He smiled dryly. "We wouldn't want to have to wait for coffee."
"Coffee now would be good."
"It would be, but why don't you keep at it a little longer?"
"I'm just about cross-eyed now, "Jade said.
He grinned. "Just about doesn't cut it." Then he said seriously, "Tomorrow is Halloween."
"I know," she said. "And I'm still missing something. Lucian, do you think that back in the early seventeen hundreds, when the people attacked Cabal Thome… were they part of the Alliance?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I wasn't here in the seventeen hundreds," he said lightly.
"Brent is here, you know. He called me."
"Yes. I'm aware of that."
"Of course. You would be," she murmured.
There was a slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, but he didn't note it. He lifted his hands, distracted. "This should be… hell, between us all, it should be easy."
"But it's not."
"No, and it's not going to be, because… well, it's strange. It's kind of like fear, which can exist in the imagination with devastating effect. So much that is going on is in the mind— the dreams, for instance.
You can't hunt down and destroy a dream. And what bothers me more than anything is this… this veil that exists. Like the blue fog. You don't always know what you're seeing through it. Let's assume it is the demon. And then the high priest, or priestess, who came across all the right rituals to bring Bac-Dal to life. Whichever, however, there is an incredibly strong power than can enter into the world of the mind.
I'm afraid that we could capture a dozen followers who are merely on the fringes, and there would be a dozen more to take their places. The thing is, we've got to get to the absolute root of what is going on."
"And then?"
"Then, I believe, we'll need to know the right rituals ourselves to counter everything that is going on. I've got to leave. And you have to keep reading, and bear that in mind—that our strength may not be sufficient, despite the fact that we could mow down dozens of people. We're going to need to do all the right things, not barrel in like an army."
"Where are you going now?"
"It's getting late—places to be, people to see. If I don't come back for you in an hour, head on to the hotel without me. I'll meet you there."
"Lucian!" Jade rose, calling his name. But by that time, he was already halfway toward the door.
Jade sat back down at the table, staring at the array of written material before her. She picked up an old volume, but set it back down again.
"The necessary items," she murmured softly to herself. "Hair of the victim… blood of the victim…"
Finn Douglas had hurt himself on a dragon in Morwenna's shop. A decorative "monster" had ripped hair from the heads of both Megan and Finn. Personal objects could have easily been acquired from the two as well.
Jade gnawed on a pencil eraser.
She glanced at the store phone on the desk, then decided against it, reaching for her shoulder bag and digging into it for her cell phone. In a few moments, she'd found Megan's and Finn's cell phone numbers, but decided against dialing as well, and hoped that, when she'd interviewed them two weeks earlier, she'd had the sense to put both their cell numbers into her own phone.
She had.
She dialed Megan's number. Megan didn't answer with "hello?"
"Mike?" Came Megan's voice again. "I've got to get going, Finn is waiting."
"Megan, it's Jade."
"Oh, Jade. Hi, I'm sorry. I thought you were a friend calling back. Is anything wrong?" Megan asked.
"Or, more so than before, I should say."
"No. I was just wondering—Megan, have you hurt « yourself while you've been here? Just a scratch, anything?"
There was a long hesitation on the other end.
"Megan?"
"Well, this is a little weird. And it's very strange that you should ask… wait, just a minute. I'm going to close the door. I'm at Aunt Martha's packing up… Finn is just outside." She was gone for a second, then returned to the line. "I didn't want to say anything to him. For several reasons, a few I'm still sorting out myself. But I dreamed last night that I was walking in the woods, and this morning, when I woke up…
well, my feet were dirty and I had cut the bottom of my left. It's nothing, really, just a scratch, as you were saying." Jade stared at the phone.
"Jade?"
"I'm sorry, I'm here."
"Please, don't say anything to Finn."
"No, no… I've one more question. Are you missing anything?"
"No. Yes! I lost it when we first got here."
"What?"
"A bracelet. A really beautiful bracelet that my father gave me. A claddagh bracelet."
"Ah."
"How about Finn?"
"Did he lose anything, do you mean?"
"Yes."
"Not that I know of, but… Finn can be careless sometimes. He goes through guitar picks by the dozens.
Of course, those wouldn't really be lost because he expects to use them up just like tissues. Jade, why are you asking all this?"
"I don't know yet. I'm just trying to get to bottom of what's going on, figure it all out."
"You'll call me back if you think of anything… if we should know anything that you've found."
"Of course! And we'll be there tonight. Maybe a little late, but we'll be there."
"Great."
"I'll let you go now."
"Thanks. See you later."
Jade pushed the button to end the phone call, staring thoughtfully at her cell. A sound drew her attention
to the doorway.
She looked to the outer room. There were a number of customers browsing the shelves.
And Eddie Martin was striding away from the door area.
He'd been listening to every word she had said.
Chapter 19
Finn carried Megan's bag out to the car.
Martha stood in the parlor, smiling, and yet Megan thought that she still looked uncomfortable.
"It's all right, really," Megan told her.
"Honey, I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you. I like Finn very much. And I may be old, but I certainly see your attraction to him. It's just that… there's never any excuse for violence," she said very softly, speaking as if she wished she could mind her own business.
"Finn has never been violent. With me," Megan amended.
The way Martha stared at her, she found herself explaining further. "If that story about defending myself by crashing a wine bottle over his head reached you, no such thing ever happened. He never attacked me. I was just angry and hit him with a loaf of bread."
"But you said that you're having strange dreams—"
"I had the strangest one here last night. In fact, I think I went sleepwalking out your front door."
"Megan, no!"
"Cut my foot and everything," she said dryly.
"Does Finn know about it?"
"No, and don't say anything. It was just a scratch. I don't want him insisting I sit all night. I've been walking on it all day and it's fine. Oh, Martha, I know you're worried, but we're going to be fine together.
We've talked a lot of things out."
Martha shook her head unhappily. "You're going to leave on November first, right when we could have spent some real time together."
"Right now, Aunt Martha, I want to get home to New Orleans." She hesitated. "You come and visit us!
Then we'll have some real time together."
"It's just terrible that you've come home… and been so unhappy here."
"I haven't been unhappy here. Just—stressed," Megan said. Martha still looked so depressed that Megan put her arms around her and hugged her tightly.
"Maybe tomorrow," Martha suggested, "you and Finn could both come here for dinner before going to the club. Halloween night. No restaurant in town will be able to make anything decent—it will just be too crazy."
"I think we'll just be too crazy," Megan murmured. Lucian had warned them not to say anything about leaving. But this was Aunt Martha.
Martha was studying her keenly though. "Um. I see. You're going to bolt out on Sam Tartan, huh?
Megan, have you seriously thought about what that will do to your careers?"
"We're not bolting out on anyone," she lied blithely. "I just want to say a real good-bye now, in case we don't get time together tomorrow."
"You really think you should go back to Huntington House with Finn? Maybe you should have both stayed here," Martha said firmly.
