Midnight Blood Page 8

  “I am. And you’re Lucy Hawthorne, I presume.”

  “You presume correctly.” She opened the door fully. “You must be freezing out there. Come in.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped inside. The house was warm. Lucy was a petite redhead with a slight resemblance to her brother and sister in her features. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt that had the words Miskatonic University across the chest. I had the same T-shirt at home and knew that written across the back were the words Department of Medieval Metaphysics.

  “Just go through there and I’ll bring coffee,” she said, indicating a door on my left.

  Unsure why she seemed to be expecting me and how she knew who I was, I stepped through the door and into a cozy living room. A fire blazed in a marble fireplace and the pleasant smell of cedar wood lingered on the air. One wall was completely covered in bookshelves holding what must have been thousands of paperbacks.

  In one corner, a computer, keyboard, and dozens of notebooks littered the surface of a large mahogany desk.

  A sofa and two easy chairs were arranged around a coffee table whose wooden legs were carved into tentacles.

  Lucy came in and set a tray down on the table. There was a pot of coffee, two mugs, a pitcher of cream, and packets of sugar. “Help yourself,” she said. “And take a seat anywhere you like.”

  This friendly woman was a world away from the introverted recluse Charles Hawthorne had described to me.

  I sat on the sofa and felt something pressing into my back. “Don’t be alarmed,” I said. “I just have to put this on the table.” I took the dagger out of my jeans and placed it on the coffee table.

  Lucy didn’t seem phased at all that I’d come into her house with a weapon. “No problem,” she said. “Just a tool of your trade.”

  “You don’t seem surprised that I’m here,” I said.

  “Should I be?” She poured coffee from the pot into both of the mugs. “Help yourself to cream and sugar.”

  “Did someone tell you I was coming here?”

  “Brad called me last night and told me something weird had happened at the party. He knows I’m interested in that kind of thing. He also told me that you were there and you were asking about me.” She added cream to her coffee and stirred it.

  “And I came here yesterday,” I told her. “You probably saw me in the car outside.”

  She frowned. “No, I wasn’t here yesterday. I was at a bookstore in Boston doing a book signing. Then I had dinner with my agent. I stayed at a hotel. I didn’t get home until this morning.”

  I remembered the face peering through the curtains at me yesterday. “Do you live alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I came by yesterday, I thought I saw someone in the house.”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, that isn’t possible.”

  “Have you checked the house since you came home?”

  “I have an alarm. I turned it on when I left for Boston and I turned it off when I got back. No one has been in the house.”

  Maybe my eyes had been playing tricks on me yesterday.

  “So,” Lucy said. “What’s happening back home? And why has Dad hired a preternatural investigator? It sounds exciting. It almost makes me wish I was still living there.”

  “I understand you and your family don’t have much contact.”

  “No, not really. Dad and I don’t see eye to eye on most things. Well, just about anything, really. I still send Brad my books. And he called me last night, as I already mentioned.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “That there was some kind of smoke that appeared from nowhere and everyone ran outside. And you and two other people had glowing swords. Do you mind if I put that scene into one of my books?”

  “I guess not. The thing is, Lucy, I’m trying to track down the person responsible for sending that smoke to the house. At your father’s request, I checked out your mother and Brad and Elise.”

  “What? He thinks one of us did it? Typical.”

  “When he hired me, he did express the opinion that a member of the family might be responsible for some recent attacks he’s experienced.”

  She looked surprised. “What kind of attacks?”

  “Before I go into that, I want to ask you a question.”

  “Okay.”

  “What do you know about the Midnight Cabal?”

  Her eyes went wide with excitement. “Oh my God, you’ve heard of them too. I thought I was the only one who knew.” ‘

  “Knew what?”

  “Wait here.” She left the room hurriedly and returned with a thick reference book. Placing it on the coffee table, she opened it to a chapter that was headed Secret Societies.

  “I was researching old secret societies for a novel I’m writing and I came across this mention of the Midnight Cabal. It says they were around hundreds of years ago but probably disappeared sometime around 1745. Now, you see this magic circle symbol?” She pointed to a diagram in the book. I recognized the symbol; the last time I’d seen it was on a pin my mother was wearing. “That’s the symbol of the Cabal.”

  She closed the book. “Here’s the weird part. I’ve seen that symbol cropping up every now and then in a chatroom.”

  “The Emerald Tablet,” I said.

  “Yes! You know it!”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “Here’s what I think. I think the Midnight Cabal didn’t disappear in 1745 at all. I think it’s still operating today.”

  “Because of a symbol in a chatroom?”

  “Not only that. There are other things too. There’s some evidence that the Cabal may have been carrying out secret projects during World War Two.”

  “Evidence?”

  “Documents that have come to light recently. Even some photos. Yes, I know that stuff can be faked and I know there are a million conspiracy theories on the Net but this looks real.”

  While she talked, I wondered why Gerald Garland had told me this house was being used as a Cabal meeting place. Lucy seemed to be no more than an enthusiastic conspiracy theorist.

  “Lucy, do you know a man named Gerald Garland?”

  “Yes, of course. Mainemagicman423.”

  “What?”

  “That’s his username on the Emerald Tablet. I’m Lucy Loreless. Like the actress. But instead of L A W L E S S, it’s spelled L O R E L E S S. Get it?”

  “Yeah, I get it. Has Gerald been around here? To the house?”

  “A couple of times.”

  “He told me you hold meetings here.”

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Lucy, he told me they were Midnight Cabal meetings.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened even more. “What? No. How could he…?”

  “What did you discuss at those meetings?”

  “We talked about the Midnight Cabal, of course. I explained why I thought they still existed today. But we discussed other things as well. Occult studies. Secret societies like the Cabal, yes, but also other groups like the Golden Dawn and the Illuminati.”

  I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I’d been on a wild goose chase. It was now apparent that Charles Hawthorne’s belief that someone in his family was attacking him was nothing more than paranoia. Someone was using magic against him but it wasn’t any of his family members.

  And Gerald Garland’s assertion that this address was a Cabal meeting place was nothing more than a misunderstanding on his part. He’d believed that the like-minded occultists and conspiracy theorists he’d met here were members of the Cabal.

  That was the trouble with secret societies; they were so secret that anyone could misinterpret an innocent situation—like talking to fellow enthusiasts—as being part of the society’s activities and there was no way to verify or debunk that belief.

  That meant I was back to square one as far as the Midnight Cabal was concerned. Merlin wasn’t going to be happy about that.

  At least I could give
Felicity some information to help her investigation into the Hawthorne case, namely that Lucy was nothing more than an armchair occultist. She’d been genuinely surprised when I’d mentioned the attacks on her father.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” I said, getting up.

  “You’re welcome. Listen, could I ask you a favor? Would it be possible for me to interview you some time? I think talking to you would give me some great material for a book.”

  “Maybe,” I said, picking up my dagger from the coffee table.

  “Great! I have a card here somewhere.” She went to the desk and rummaged through the papers until she found a business card. Handing it to me, she said, “Call me sometime and let me know when you have some free time.”

  I slid the card into my back pocket and said, “I will.”

  She saw me to the door and as I stepped out, she gave me a little wave. “Nice meeting you.”

  “You too,” I said.

  She closed the door and I walked along the street to the police cruiser. Merlin had fallen asleep, his head lolling back against the headrest.

  I got in and shook him.

  Bleary-eyed, he squinted against the daylight and asked, “Did you force her to talk?”

  “No,” I told him. “She isn’t a member of the Cabal at all. She isn’t responsible for the attacks on Charles Hawthorne either.”

  He huffed. “Well that’s just great. Now we don’t have any leads at all.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “I don’t know about you but I’m calling it a day.”

  “Perhaps you could train with Excalibur some more.”

  “No, not today. I’ve had enough of that sword for the moment. And since we’re no closer to finding the Cabal, it doesn’t look like I’ll have to use it anytime soon anyway.”

  “All right,” he conceded. “I’ll take you home.”

  During the drive back to Dearmont, we were both silent. I was wondering if I was going to catch a break and be able to fund some useful nugget of information in my search for the Cabal. I just hoped Felicity was having more luck with the Hawthorne case.

  As for Merlin, I had no idea what thoughts were running through his mind.

  He dropped me off outside my house and as I got out of the car, he said, “Shall I pick you up in the morning?”

  “No,” I said. “I’ll call you if I get any leads. It may take some time.”

  “This isn’t progressing as I’d hoped, Alec.”

  “Welcome to the world of a P.I.” I closed the car door and ambled up the driveway to my house. Merlin honked his horn and waved at me as he drove away but I ignored him. Something had set my senses on edge.

  I had magical wards set up around the house and along the street that warned me if anyone with ill intent passed through them. I guessed that Todd and Honoka had disabled the wards earlier because if they hadn’t—and their intent was ill as Merlin had detected—the wards would have warned me.

  So that meant the feeling of anxiousness I was experiencing right now as I walked toward my front door was purely a gut instinct. Removing the dagger from my jeans, I unlocked the door and entered the house.

  The first thing I noticed was a smell that seemed to be a mixture of rotting earth and blood. I couldn’t detect where it was coming from as it seemed to permeate the entire house.

  There was also an atmospheric change, like the feeling that lingers in the air after a thunderstorm.

  I stood still and listened for a sound that might give away an intruder. I heard nothing out of the ordinary.

  Maybe you’re imagining it. You’re just tired.

  I’m not imagining that smell.

  I went down to the basement and checked the training area. Nothing seemed out of order. Excalibur was leaning against the wall where I’d left it. I went back upstairs and checked the first floor. Again, nothing seemed amiss. If there was someone—or something—in the house, they hadn’t been down here. They were upstairs.

  I went up carefully and quietly, the dagger held loosely in my grip but ready for action should I need it.

  The smell was stronger up here.

  The first room I came to was my bedroom. The door was open, exactly as I’d left it earlier. I slipped into the room and was greeted with a sight that shocked me.

  Lying on the floor in front of the full-length mirror was a woman. Dirt caked her body and face. Her hair was matted and plastered to her head, neck and shoulders. Her naked body was covered with bloody scratches and wounds. She lay in a fetal position, knees drawn up to her face, her arms wrapped around her legs. I wasn’t sure if she was dead or alive.

  Crouching next to her, I placed a finger against her neck to check for a pulse. Relief flooded through me when I felt one, steady and strong. I touched her shoulder. “Hey, can you hear me?”

  She shifted slightly and whispered something weakly. The sound was too thin for me to hear what she was saying.

  I leaned closer to her face.

  She whispered again.

  “Alec.”

  Turning toward me, she reached up and put her arms around me, pulling herself up so that her eyes looked into mine.

  “Alec.”

  Now I recognized her. With a flood of emotion, I pulled her close to me and held her, whispering her name.

  “Mallory.”

  10

  I led Mallory to the bathroom. She leaned on me heavily, saying nothing more now that I knew who she was. I helped her into the shower and turned on the water before saying, “I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be right outside the door.”

  “No.” She shook her head, her eyes wild. “Stay.”

  “Okay.”

  She leaned against the tiles and let the hot water sluice the dirt away. As the grime disappeared and the wounds on her body were revealed in greater detail, I could see that they weren’t straight slashes like a knife might leave but looked more like jagged claw marks. They ran across her arms, stomach, and legs.

  Opening the bathroom cabinet, I took out antiseptic cream and an assortment of bandages and Band-Aids. From what I could see, the wounds weren’t deep enough to require stitches. I got the impression that Mallory was suffering more from mental anguish than from physical pain.

  If she’d come into the house through the mirror in my bedroom, as it appeared she’d done, then she’d probably come from Shadow Land. That place wasn’t good for anyone’s state of mind.

  She spent at least twenty minutes under the shower and when she was done, she came out looking a million times better than she had when she’d gone in there.

  I handed her a towel and she dried herself quickly. Then she used the bandages to dress her wounds.

  “Mallory, are you okay? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just want to know that you’re all right.”

  She nodded. “I’m okay, Alec. I’ve just been alone for so long that I’ve forgotten the art of conversation” When she was finished with the bandages, she asked, “How long have I been gone?”

  “About three months.”

  “It feels like ten years.”

  “Were you in Shadow Land?”

  She nodded, her face becoming grim. “I discovered his lair was located there and I found a way to follow him. But I got trapped and I couldn’t find a way out.”

  “Until you came through my mirror just now.”

  “There’s a spell Mister Scary uses to travel back and forth between Shadow Land and our world. I learned it over time and when I finally used it, I managed to break through into your bedroom.” Her face contorted as she tried to hold back tears but they burst forth despite her efforts. She threw her arms around me and wept.

  I held her and said, “It’s good to have you back.”

  “There’s so much I have to tell you,” she said. “But I’m so tired.”

  “Do you want to sleep?”

  She nodded.

  I led her into the bedroom and pulled b
ack the comforter on the bed. She slid beneath it and placed her head on the pillow.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” I told her. “If you need anything, call out and I’ll come running.”

  “I just need to sleep. I haven’t felt safe for so long.”

  “You’re safe now.” I closed the curtains to block out the light coming in through the window. When I turned back to face the bed, Mallory was asleep.

  Quietly, I went downstairs and sat in the easy chair in the living room. If Mallory needed me for anything, I’d be able to hear her from here.

  I took out my phone and called Felicity.

  She answered after a couple of rings. “Hello, Alec.”

  “Hi, how’s it going?”

  “We went to speak to Charles Hawthorne today and he was very rude. I’m in the office with Leon doing some research.”

  “Cool. Listen, I met Lucy Hawthorne today. She’s not our attacker. I’ll explain everything later but I need you to do a favor for me before you come home.”

  “All right. What is it?”

  “Can you pick up some clothing that would fit Mallory?”

  “Mallory? Is she there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What does she need?”

  “Everything.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “She’s been trapped in Shadow Land for months and she escaped by coming through my bedroom mirror.”

  “I’ll go to the store right away.”

  “There’s no hurry. She’s sleeping at the moment.”

  “Still, she could wake up anytime. Leon can hold the fort here while I go shopping for some clothes and run them over to you.”

  “Okay. Umm, I don’t know anything about sizes.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Leave it to me.” She hung up. Knowing Felicity, she was probably already on her way out of the door.

  I placed the phone on the coffee table and sat back in the chair. My heart went out to Mallory and I felt a profound grief, the likes of which I’d never experienced before.

  She never seemed able to catch a break. After her first traumatic experience at the hands of Mister Scary, when she became the Final Girl at the Bloody Summer Massacre, she became cursed by the Box of Midnight.