

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[From Jacket]

 SMOKE AND MIRRORS

 TANYA HUFF

 From Tanya Huff, the author of the acclaimedBlood novels, which followed the adventures of private detective Vicki Nelson and vampire Henry Fitzroy, comes the second novel in a brilliant new contemporary fantasy series, SMOKE AND MIRRORS.

 The first novel in the series, SMOKE AND SHADOWS, reintroduced us to Henry Fitzroy, and to Tony Foster, a former street kid and snitch rescued from his dead-end existence by Vicki and Henry, and given a chance for a better life.

 Relocating toVancouver with Henry, and forced to get his act together, Tony landed a job as a Production Assistant at CB Productions. In an example of art echoing life, the syndicated TV series Tony worked for wasDarkest Night, a show about the adventures of a vampire detective.

 Except for his unrequited crush on the shows handsome costar, Lee Nicholas, Tony was pretty content. . .at least until the day shadows took over the set. Though Tony and most of his coworkers survived their encounter with shadowy forces of dark magic, survival was not without its price. Tony discovered a surprising truth about himself and was offered a chance to become far more than a mere Production Assistant. But he wasnt certain he wanted to take that next step. And so, though he occasionally practiced the skills that CB Productions former special effects wizard had gifted him with, Tony continued to fill the job of Production Assistant onDarkest Night .

 Everything was going fine until Chester Bane rented Caulfield House, a long-deserted, turn-of-the-last-century mansion, to shoot an episode about a haunted house.

 It should have been an easy week, with a perfect setting, the cast all in place, the script ready to go. But there was one little hitch that no one had counted on. Caulfield House really was haunted! Over the decades, a number of horrifying deaths had occurred in the mansion. And apparently none of the victims had managed to escape to an afterlife. . . .

 It began with harmless pranksafter all, some of the ghosts were just kids. Then there was trouble with equipment, eerie sounds, and Tonys discovery that he could see-and hear-the dead. He probably could have dealt with that. Hed certainly lived through far more terrifying and perilous situations. But that was before someones blood was spilled. Just a little accident, but in this case, a little was all it took.

 Suddenly, Tony and most of the cast and crew found themselves imprisoned in a house that had killed numerous times before. With Henry Fitzroy and Chester Bane unable to break through the barrier the house had created, all that stood between them and madness and death was Tonys fledgling ability as a wizard. . . .

 Although she leftNova Scotia at three, and has lived most of her life since inOntario , Tanya Huff still considers herself a Maritimer. On the way to the idyllic rural existence she shares with her partner Fiona Patton, six cats, and aChihuahua , she acquired a degree in Radio and Television Arts from Ryerson Polytechnican education she was happy to finally use while writing the SMOKE novels. Of her previous twenty-two books the fiveBLOOD PRICE, BLOOD TRAIL, BLOOD LINES, BLOOD PACT, BLOOD DEBTfeaturing Henry Fitzroy, bastard son of Henry VIII, romance writer, and vampire are among the most popular. Shes pleased to be returning to that world once again as Tony Foster, ex-street kid, and one of Henrys own, discovers that working in television has less to do with reality than he ever suspected.

 

 Jacket painting by John Jude Palencar

 Jacket designed by G-Force Design

 
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 The Finest in Science Fiction and Fantasy

 by TANYA HUFF

 available from DAW Books:

 SMOKE AND SHADOWS (#1)
SMOKE AND MIRRORS (#2)



 BLOOD PRICE (#1)
BLOOD TRAIL (#2)
BLOOD LINES (#3)
BLOOD PACT (#4)
BLOOD DEBT (#5)



 The Confederation Novels:

 VALORS CHOICE (#1)
THE BETTER PART OF VALOR (#2)



 The Keepers Chronicles:

 SUMMON THE KEEPER (#1)
THE SECOND SUMMONING (#2)
LONG HOT SUMMONING (#3)



 SING THE FOUR QUARTERS
FIFTH QUARTER
NO QUARTER
THE QUARTERED SEA



 WIZARD OF THE GROVE



 OF DARKNESS, LIGHT, AND FIRE
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 SMOKE
AND
MIRRORS

 Tanya Huff





 DAW BOOKS, INC.
DONALD A. WOLLHEIM, FOUNDER
375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014
ELIZABETH R. WOLLHEIM
SHEILA E. GILBERT
PUBLISHERS
http://www.dawbooks.com/
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 For Judith and Dave
Who opened the door
and then gently shoved
me through it.
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 Contents

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 Chapter One

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 ABOUT A THIRD of the way down the massive wooden staircase the older of the two tuxedo-clad men paused, head up, nostrils flaring as though he were testing a scent on the air. Were not . . . alone.

 Well, theres at least another twenty invited guests, his companion began lightly.

 Not what I meant. Red-gold hair gleamed as he turned first one way then the other. Theres something . . . else.

 Somethingelse ? the younger man repeated, suspiciously studying the portrait of the elderly gentleman in turn-of-the-century clothing hanging beside him. The portrait, contrary to expectations, continued to mind its own business.

 Something . . . evil.

 Dont you think youre overreacting just a . . . The husky voice trailed off as he stared over the banister, down into the wide entrance hall. His fingers tightened on the polished wood of the railing as green eyes widened. Raymond, I think youd better have a look at this.

 Raymond Dark turnedslowlyand snarled, the extended points of his canine teeth clearly visible.

 And cut! Down by the front door, Peter Hudson pushed his headphones back around his neck, peered around the bank of monitors, and up at the stars ofDarkest Night. Two things, gentlemen. First, Mason; whats with the pausing before the last word in every line?

 Mason Reed, aka Raymond Dark, vampire detective and currently syndicated televisions sexiest representative of the bloodsucking undead, glared down at the director. I was attempting to make banal dialogue sound profound.

 Yeah? Nice try. Unfortunately, it sounded like you were doing a bad Shatner, whichwhile Im in no way dissing the good Captain Kirkis not quite the effect we want here. And Lee, he continued without giving Mason a chance to argue, whats on your shoulder? Your right shoulder, he added as Lee Nicholas aka James Taylor Grant tried to look at both shoulders at once. Actually, more the upper sleeve.

 A streak of white, about half an inch wide, ran from just under the shoulder seam diagonally four inches down the sleeve of Lees tux.

 He frowned. It looks like paint.

 Mason touched it with a fingertip and then pointed at the incriminating white smudge down at the entrance hall and the director. Itis paint. He mustve brushed up against the wall in the second-floor bathroom.

 Two of the episodes pivotal scenes were to be shot in the huge bathroom and one of the painters had spent the morning giving ceiling and walls a quick coat of white semi-gloss.

 Thats impossible, Lee protested. I wasnt evenin the second-floor bathroom and besides, this wasnt there when Brenda delinted us.

 Brenda delinted us fifteen minutes before Peter called action, Mason reminded him. Lots of time for you to wander off and take a tinkle.

 Oh, no. Lee checked to make sure that the boom was gone, then dropped his voice below eavesdropping range.You wandered off to suck on a cancer stick, I didnt go anywhere.

 So you say, but this says different.

 I wasnt in that bathroom!

 Look, Lee, just admit you screwed up and lets move on.

 I didnt screw up!

 All right then, it was a subconsciousand Id have to say somewhat patheticattempt to draw attention to yourself.

 Dont even . . .

 Gentlemen! Peters voice dragged their attention back down to the foyer. I dont care where the paint came from, but its visible in that last bit where Lee turns and as Id like him to keep turningTony, run Lees tux jacket out to Brenda so she can get that paint off before it dries.Everett , if you could take the shine off Masons forehead before we have to adjust the light levels, Id appreciate it. And somebody, get me a coffee and two aspirin.

 Tony froze halfway to the stairs. As the only production assistant on locationas the only production assistant whod ever remained with CB Productions andDarkest Night for any length of timehe was generally the somebody Peterd just referred to.

 Ill get him the co . . . shkeeffee, Tony.The voice of Adam Paelous, the shows first assistant director sounded in Tonys ear, pushing through the omnipresent static.You get the tux . . .

 One finger against his ear jack, Tony strained to hear over the interference. The walkie-talkies had been acting up since theyd arrived at the location shoot. It was impossible to get a clear signal and the batteries were draining at about five times the normal speed.

 . . .out to wardrobe. The exci. . . shsquit of watching paint dry might kill us all.

 Waving an acknowledgment to Adam across the entrance hall, Tony jogged up the stairs. It had definitely been a less than exciting morningeven given the hurry-up-and-wait nature of television production.And theres not a damned thing wrong with boring, Tony reminded himself. Especially when not boring involved gates to other worlds, evil wizards, and sentient shadows that werent so much homicidal as . . . actually, homicidal pretty much covered it.

 Everyone else at CB Productionswith the exception of CB himselfhad no memory of the metaphysical experience that had very nearly turned the soundstage into ground zero for an other world/evil wizard/homicidal shadow invasion. Everyone else probably slept with the lights out. After almost two months, Tony was finally able to manage it four nights out of five.

 Lee was out of the tux and frowning down at the paint by the time Tony reached him.

 I didnt go into the upstairs bathroom, he reiterated as he handed it over.

 I believe you. Fully aware that he was smiling stupidly up at an explicitly defined straight boyor as explicit as the pictures the tabloids could get with an extended telephoto lensTony folded the jacket carefully so the paint wouldnt smear and headed back down the stairs thinking, in quick succession,Its still warm. And:Youre pathetic.

 He slid over against the banister to give Everett and his makeup case room to get up the stairs, wondering why Masonwho was a good twenty years younger and thirty kilos lightercouldnt have come down to the entrance hall instead.Oh, wait, its Mason. What the hell am I thinking? Mason Reed was fully aware of every perk star billing entitled him to and had no intention of compromising on any of them.

 That man sweats more than any actor Ive ever met,Everett muttered as Tony passed. But dont quote me on that.

 Just what, exactly,Everett had once been misquoted on was a mystery. And likely to remain that way as even a liberal application of peach schnapps had failed to free up the story although Tony had learned more about butt waxing than hed ever wanted to know.

 Jacket draped across his hands and held out like he was delivering an organ for transplant, Tony raced across the entrance hall, out the air-lock entryits stained glass covered with black fabric to keep out the daylightsped across the wide porch, and pounded down the half dozen broad stone steps to the flagstone path that led through the overgrown gardens and eventually to the narrow drive.Time is money was one of the three big truisms of the television industry. No one seemed to be able to agree on just what exactly number two was, but Tony suspected that number three involved the ease with which production assistants could be replaced.

 The wardrobe makeup trailer had been parked just behind the craft services truck which had, in turn, been snugged up tight against the generator.

 Brenda, whod been sitting on the steps having a coffee, stood as Tony approached, dumping an indignant black cat off her lap. What happened?

 Theres paint on Lees jacket.

 Paint? She hurried out to meet him, hands outstretched. How did that happen?

 Lee doesnt know. Given that Tony believed Lee, Masons theory didnt bear repeating. Handing the jacket over, he followed her up into the trailer. The cat snorted at her or him or both of them and stalked away.

 Was he in the second-floor bathroom?

 No. It was a common theory apparently.

 Weird. Her hand in the sleeve, she held the paint out for inspection. It looks like someone stroked it on with a fingertip.

 It did. The white was oval at the top and darkerfading down to a smudge of gray at the bottom of the four-inch streak.

 Probably just someone being an asshole.

 Mason? she wondered, picking up a spray bottle and bending over the sleeve.

 Tony stared at her back in disbelief. There was no way Mason would do anything to make Lee the center of attention. Not generally, and especially not now, not when at last count Lees fan mail had risen to equal that of the older actor. And Masond always been particularly sensitive to anything he perceived as a threat to his position as the star ofDarkest Night. That wasnt an opinion Tonyd actually express out loud, howevernot to Brenda. The wardrobe assistant was one of those rare people in the business who, in spite of exposure, continued to buy into the celebrity thing. For most, the Oh, my God, its . . . faded after a couple of artistic hissy fits extended the workday past the fifteen-hour mark.

 Also, she was a bit of a suck-up, and the last thing he wanted was her currying favor by telling Mason what he thought. Well, maybe not the last thing he wanteda repeat of the homicidal shadow experience currently topped his never again list, but having Mason Reed pissed off at him was definitely in the top ten since Mason Reed sufficiently pissed off meant Tony Foster unemployed.

 Realizing she was still waiting for an answer, he said, No, I dont think it was Mason.

 Of course not.

 Hey, you brought it up. He picked up a scrap of trim . . .

 Dont touch that. . . . and put it back down again. Sorry.

 Are you taking the jacket back or is Lee coming out to get it? Or I could take it back and make sure it looks all right under the lights.

 You could, but since Im here . . .

 And as it happens, so am I.

 They turned together, pulled around by an unmistakable rough velvet voice to see Lee coming into the trailer.

 Theres another mark on the pants. He turned as he spoke.

 It looked as if someone had pressed a finger against the bottom of Lees right cheek and stroked up. Tony thought very hard about cold showers, police holding cells, and Homer Simpson.

 Lee continued around until he faced them again, toed off the black patent leather shoes, and unzipped his fly. I swear it wasnt there earlier.

 The jacket would have covered most of it, Brenda reminded him in a breathy tone Tony found extremely annoying. He held on to that annoyanceit was a handy shield against a potentially embarrassing reaction to Lee stepping out of his pants and passing them over.

 Clad from the waist down in gray boxer briefs and black socks, Lee wandered over to the empty makeup chair and sat. The chair squealed a protest. I have no idea how it happened. I swear I wasnt anywhere near wet paint.

 Of course you werent, Brenda purred. Lifting the jacket off the ironing board she handed it to Tony, her heated gaze never leaving Lees face until she had to lay out the pants. She made up for the loss of eye contact by taking her time caressing the fabric smooth.

 Rumor insisted that Brenda and Lee had recently shared a heated moment on the floor of the wardrobe department while Alison Larkinthe head of wardrobewas off rummaging through charity sales for costumes her budget would cover. Given the intimate way Brenda spread her hand and pressed it down next to the paint to hold the fabric still, Tony had to admit it looked like gossip had gotten it right. Standing there, while she spritzed and then rubbed slow circles over the ass of Lees pants, he felt like a voyeur.

 And he was definitely odd man out.

 Listen, Tony, as long as Lees here, theres no need for you to stay. Apparently, Brenda thought so, too.

 Yeah, I should go.

 Yes, you should.Because the moment youre out the door and were finally alone, Im going to show that man what a real woman can give him.

 He had to admire the amount of bad fifties subtext she could layer under three words.

 Ill tell Peter youll be back when Brendas finished with you, he said handing Lee the jacket. The expression on the actors face was interestingand a little desperate. Desperate for him to leave? Desperate about him leaving? Desperately seeking Susan? What? Tony was getting nothing.

 Are you still here?What part of we want to be alone dont you understand ?

 Well, nothing from Lee. Plenty from Brenda.

 Tony!Adams voice rose out of the background noise.The minute that paints . . . A couple of words got lost in static. . . .get Lee back here. Weve got a shit-load of stuff to cover today.

 He dropped his mouth toward the microphone clipped to his collar. Roger that, Adam.

 The point ishsput to make sure no ones getting rogered.

 Yeah, I got that. Most of it, anyway.

 Adam had obviously heard the rumor, too, although his choice of euphemism was interesting. Rogered?

 How much longer?

 Jackets done, pants are . . . Tony glanced over at Brenda and shrugged apologetically when she glared. . . . pants are finished now. Lees dressing . . . The pants slid quickly up over long, muscular, tanned legs. Feet shoved into shoes and Lee was at the door, mouthingSorry, gotta run. back toward the wardrobe assistant. And were moving.

 Youre shoving?

 Moving!

 Glad to finally friggin hear it. Out.

 They were almost to the path before Lee spoke. Yes, we did.

 Tony shrugged. I didnt ask.

 And it was a stupid thing to do.

 I didnt say. Brenda was standing in the doorway watching them leave. He knew it without turning. Feeling the impact of metaphorical scissors between his shoulder blades, he increased the space between them to the maximum the path would allow.

 It was just. . . I mean, we were both . . . And she was. . .

 Hey. Tony raised a hand before details started emerging. Two consenting adults. Not my business.

 Right. As the path finally lined up with the front door, Lee stopped. Its a great house, isnt it?

 Yeah, its cool. Tony had been ready for the change of subjectguys, especially guys who werent exactly friends, had a low level of TMI. Actually, since Lee wasnt the kind of guy to brag about his conquests, Tony was a little surprised hed even brought it up.

 I asked Mr. Brummel if he thought the owners might sell.

 What did he say?

 This isnt your average house, boy. You dont own a house like this. It owns you.

 Lees impression of the caretakers weirdly rhythmic delivery was bang on. Tony snickered. A middle-aged man in rumpled clothes, scuffed work boots, and an obvious comb over, Mr. Brummelno first name offeredhad taken the caretaker clichs to heart, embracing them with all the fervor of someone about to shout, And Id have gotten away with it, too, if not for you meddling kids.

 But he was right; Caulfield House was anything but average.

 Built around the turn of the last century by Creighton Caulfield, whod made a fortune in both mining and timber, the house rested on huge blocks of pale granite with massive beams of western red cedar holding up the porch roof. Three stories high with eight bedrooms, a ballroom, a conservatory, and servants quarters on the third floor, it sat tucked away inDeerLakePark at the end of a long rutted path too overgrown to be called a road. Matt, the freelance location finder CB Productions generally employed, had driven downDeer Lake Drive to have a look at Edgar Housewhich turned out to be far too small to accommodate the script. Following what he called a hunch, although Tony suspected hed gotten lostit wouldnt be the first timehe spotted a set of ruts and followed them. Chester Bane, the CB of CB Productions, had taken one look at the digital images Matt had shot of the house hed stumbled on at the end of the ruts, and decided it was perfect forDarkest Night.

 Although well within the boundaries of the park, Caulfield House remained privately owned and all but forgotten. Tony had no idea how CB had gotten permission to use the building, but shouting had figured prominentlyshouting into the phone, shouting behind the closed door of his office, shouting into his cell as he crossed the parking lot ignoring the cars pulling out and causing two fender benders as his staff tried to avoid hitting him. Evidence suggested that CB felt volume could succeed when reason failed, and his track record seemed to support his belief.

 But the housewas perfect in spite of the profanely expressed opinions of the drivers whod had to maneuver the generator, the craft services truck, two equipment trucks, the wardrobe/makeup trailer, and the honey wagon down the rutted road close enough to be of any use. Fortunately, as CB had rented the entire house for the week, he had no compunction about having dressing rooms set up in a couple of the bedrooms. Hed only brought in the honey wagon when Mr. Brummel had informed him what it would cost to replace the elderly septic system if it broke down under the additional input.

 The huge second-floor bathroom had therefore been painted but was off-limits as far as actually using it. The painters had left the window open to help clear the fumes and Tony glanced up to see the bottom third of the sheer white curtain blowing out over the sill.

 He frowned. Did you see that?

 The curtain?

 No, beyond the curtain, in the room. I thought I saw someone looking down at us.

 Lee snorted and started walking again, stepping over a sprawling mass of plants that had spilled out of the garden onto the path. Probably Mason sneaking a smoke by the window. He likely figures the smell of the paintll cover the stink.

 It made sense, except. . .

 Masons in black, Tony argued, hurrying to catch up. Whoever this was, they were wearing something light.

 Maybe he took the jacket off so he wouldnt get paint on it. Maybe thats where he went for his earlier smoke and maybe he did a little finger painting on my ass when he got back. One foot raised above the top step, Lee paused and shook his head. No, Im pretty sure Id remember that. Half turning, he grinned down at Tony on the step below. It seems I have a secret admirer.

 Before Tony could decide if he was supposed to read more into that than could possibly be there, Lee was inside and Adams voice was telling him to . . .get your ass in gefffst, Tony. We dont have all fisssssking day.

 Fisssssking had enough static involved it almost hurt. Fiddling with the frequency on his walkie-talkie as he followed Lee into the house, Tony had a feeling that the communication difficulties were going to get old fast.



 He peeped you. Not the actor, the other one.

 Dont be ridiculous, Stephen.

 Well, he looked like he saw you.

 He saw the curtain blowing out the window, thats all. Im very good at staying out of sight. Her tone sharpened.Im not the one that people keep spotting, am I?

 Those were accidents. His voice hovered between sulky and miserable. I didnt even know those hikers were there and I dont care what Graham says, I hate hiding.

 Comforting now. I know.

 And besides, I never take the kind of chances you do. Truth, Cassie, what were you thinking, marking him a second time?

 She smiled and glanced down at the smudge of paint on one finger. I was thinking that since Id gotten him to take off his jacket, maybe I could get him to take off his pants. Come on. Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the door. I want to see what theyre doing now.



 Raymond, I think youd better have a look at this.

 Cut and print! That was excellent work, gentlemen. Tossing his headphones onto the shelf under the monitor, Peter turned to his director of photography. How much time do you need to reset for scene eight?

 Sorge popped a throat lozenge into his mouth and shrugged. Shooting from down here . . . fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. No more. When we move to the top of the stairs . . .

 Dont borrow trouble. He raised his voice enough to attract the attention of his 1AD . . . Adam, tell them theyve got twenty minutes to kill. . . . and lowered it again as he pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees to face his script supervisor. Tina, lets you and I go over that next scene. Therell be a bitch of a continuity problem if were not careful and I dont need a repeat of episode twelve.

 At least we know theres ninety-one people watching the show, she pointed out as she stood.

 Peter snorted. I still think it was one geek with ninety-one e-mail addresses. As they moved off into the dining room and the techs moved in to shove the video village out into the actual entryway where it wouldnt be in the shot, Adam stepped out into the middle of the foyer and looked up at the two actors. Youve got fifteen, guys.

 Ill be in my dressing room. Turning on one heel, Mason headed back up the stairs.

 If anyone needs me, Ill be in my dressing room as well. Lee grimaced, reached back, and yanked at his pants. These may dry faster off my ass.

 Mouse, his gray hair more a rattail down his back and physically the complete opposite of his namesakeno one had ever referred to him as meek and lived to speak of it stepped out from behind his camera and whistled. You want to drop trou, dont let us stop you.

 Someone giggled.

 Tony missed Lees response as he realized the highly unlikely sound could only have come from Kate, Mouses camera assistant. He wouldnt have bet money on Kate knowinghow to giggle. He wasnt entirely certain she knew how to laugh.

 Tony, Adams hand closed over his shoulder as Lee followed Mason up the stairs and both actors disappeared down the second-floor hall. I saw Mason talking with Karen from craft services earlier. Go make sure she didnt add any bagels to his muffin basket.

 And if she did?

 Haul ass upstairs and make sure he doesnt eat one.

 You want me to wrestle the bagel out of Masons hand?

 If thats where it is. Adam grinned and patted him manfully on the shoulderwhere manfully could be defined asbetter you than me, buddy. If hes actually taken a bite, I want you to wrestle it out of his mouth.

 Mason loved bagels, but the dental adhesive attaching Raymond Darks fangs to his teeth just wasnt up to the required chewing. After a couple of forty-minute delays while Everett replaced the teeth, and one significantly longer delay after the right fang had been accidentally swallowed, CB had instituted the no-bagels-in-Masons-dressing-room rule. Since Mason hadnt had to ultimately retrieve the tooththat job had fallen to Jennifer, his personal assistant who, in Tonys opinion, couldnt possibly be paid enoughhed chosen to see it as a suggestion rather than a rule and did what he could to get around it.

 As a result Karen from craft services found herself under a determined assault by a man who combined good looks and charm with all the ethical consideration of a cat. No one blamed her on those rare occasions shed been unable to resist.

 Today, no one knew where she was.

 She wasnt at the table or the truck and there wasnt time enough to search further. Grabbing a pot of black currant jam off the table, Tony headed up the stairs two steps at a time, hoping Masons midmorning nosh hadnt already brought the day to a complete stop.

 As the star ofDarkest Night , Mason had taken the master suite as his dressing room. Renovated in the fifties, it took up half the front of the second floor and included a bedroom, a closet/dressing room, and a small bathroom. Provided he kept flushing to a minimum, Mr. Brummel had cleared this bathroom for Masons personal use. Lee had to use the honey wagon like every one else.

 All the doors that led off the second-floor hall were made of the same Douglas fir that dominated the rest of the house, but theyand the trim surrounding themhad been stained to look like mahogany. Tony, who in a pinch could tell the difference between plywood and MDF, had been forced to endure a long lecture on the fir-as-mahogany issue from the gaffer who carved themed chess sets in his spare time. The half finished knight in WWF regalia that hed pulled from his pockethad been impressive.

 Hand raised to knock on the door to Masons room, Tony noticed that both the upper panels had been patched. In the dim light of the second-floor hall, the patches were all but invisible, but up close he could see the faint difference in the color of the stain. There was something familiar about their shape, but he couldnt . . .

 Hand still raised, he jumped back as the door jerked open.

 Mason stared out at him, wide-eyed. Theres something in my bathroom!

 Something? Tony asked, trying to see if both fangs were still in place.

 Something!

 Okay. About to suggest plumbing problems were way outside his job description and that he should go get Mr. Brummel, Tony changed his mind at Masons next words.

 It was crouched down between the shower and the toilet.

 It?

 I couldnt see exactly, it was all shadows . . .

 Oh, crap. Maybe Id better go have a look. Before Mason could protestbefore he could change his mind and run screaming, he was crossing the bedroom, crossing the dressing room, and opening the bathroom door. The sunlight through the windows did nothing to improve the color scheme, but it did chase away any and all shadows. Tony turned toward the toilet and the corner shower unit and frowned. He couldnt figure out what the actor might have seen since there wasnt room enough between them for . . .

 Something.

 Rocking in place.

 Forward.

 Back.

 Hands clasped around knees, tear-stained face lifted to the light.

 And nothing.

 Just a space far too small for the bulky body that hadnt quite been there.

 Skin prickling between his shoulder blades, jar of black currant jam held in front of him like a shield, Tony took a step into the room. Shadows flickered across the rear wall, filling the six inches between toilet and shower with writhing shades of gray. Had that been all hed seen?

 Stupid question.

 No.

 So what now? Was he supposed to do something about it?

 Whatever it was, the rocking and crying didnt seem actively dangerous.

 Well, Foster?

 Fuck! He leaped forward and spun around. With his heart pounding so loudly he could hardly hear himself think, he gestured out the window at the cedar branches blowing across the glass and lied through his teeth. Theres your shadow.

 Then the wind dropped again and the shadows disappeared.

 Mason ran a hand up through his hair and glanced around the room. Of course. Now you see them, now you dont.I wasnt frightened, his tone added, as his chin rose.Dont think for a moment I was. Youre a little jumpy, arent you?

 I didnt hear you behind me. Which was the truth because he hadntalthough the admiring way he said it was pure actor manipulation. Working in Television 101keep the talent placated.

 As expected, Mason preened. Well, yes, I can move cat quiet when I want to.

 In Tonys admittedly limited experience, the noise cats made thudding through apartments was completely disproportionate to their size, but Mason clearly liked the line, so he nodded a vague agreement.

 Its fucking freezing in here . . .

 Maybe not freezing but damned cold.

 Is that jam for me?

 Jam? He followed Masons line of sight to his hand. Oh, yeah.

 Put it by the basket. And then Im sure you have things to do. The actors lip curled. Both fangs were still in place. Important production assistant things.

 As it happened, in spite of sarcasm, he did.

 There were no bagels in the basket but there was a scattering of poppy seeds on the tray next to a dirty knife. Setting down the jam, Tony turned and spotted a plate half hidden behind the plant that dominated the small table next to the big armchair by the window.Bagel at twelve oclock.

 Mason had made himself a snack, set it down, then gone to the bathroom and . . .

 One thing at a time. Bagel now. Bathroom later.

 He reached inside himself for calm, muttered the seven words under his breath, and the first half of the bagel hit his hand with a greasy-slash-sticky impact that suggested Mason had been generous with both the butter and the honey.

 Foster?

 Just leaving.

 All things considered, the sudden sound of someone crying in the bathroom was not entirely unexpected.

 As Mason turned to glare at the sound, Tony snagged the other half of the bagel. Air in the pipes, he said, heading for the door. Old plumbing.

 The actor shot a scathing expression across the room at him. I knew that.

 Right. Except old plumbing seldom sounded either that unhappy or that articulate. The new noises were almost words. Tony found a lot of comfort in thatalmost .

 Safely outside the door, he restacked the bagel butter/honey sides together and headed toward the garbage can at the other end of the hall, rehearsing what hed say when Mason discovered the bagel was gone.I wasnt anywhere near it!

 No nearer than about six feet and Mason knew it.

 Althoughnear had become relative. These days he could manage to move unbreakable objects almost ten feet. Breakables still had a tendency to explode. Arras notes hadnt mentioned explosions, but until the shadows, shed handled FX for CB Productions, so maybe she considered bits of beer bottle flying around the room a minor effect. Fortunately, Zev had shown up early for their date and had been more than willing to drive him to the hospital to get the largest piece of bottle removed from his arm. His opinion of juggling beer bottles had been scathing. Tony hadnt had the guts to find out what his opinion of wizardry would have been.

 The phrase special effects wizard had become a clich in the industry. Arra Pelindrake, whod been blowing things up and animating corpses for the last seven years, had been the real thing. Given the effects the new guy was coming up with, it turned out she hadnt been that great at the subtleties of twenty-first century FX but shewas a real wizard. The shadows and the evil that controlled them had followed her through a gate shed created between their world and this. The battle had gone down to the wire, but Tony had finally convinced her to stand and fight, and when it was all over, shed been able to go homebut not before dropping the you could be a wizard, too bombshell. Hed refused to go with her, so shed left him her laptop, six gummed-up games of spider solitaire that were supposed to give him insight into the future, and what hed come to call Wizardshit 101; point form and remarkably obscure instructions on becoming a wizard.

 He wasnt a wizard; he was a production assistant, working his way up in the industry until the time when it was his vision on the screen, his vision pulling in the viewers in the prime 19-29 male demographic. Hed had no intention of ever using the laptop.

 And thered been times over the last few months where hed been able to stay away from it for weeks. Well, one time. For three weeks. Right after hed had the jagged hunk of beer bottle removed from his arm.

 Wizardry, like television, was all about manipulating energy.

 And occasionally bread products.

 Masons door jerked open and without thinking much beyondOh, crap. Tony opened the door he was standing by, dashed into the room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He had a feelingI wasnt anywhere near your bagel would play better when he didnt have butter, honey, and poppy seeds all over his hands.

 The smell of wet paint told him where he was even before he turned.

 The second-floor bathroom.

 There were no shadows in this bathroom. On the wrong side of the house for direct sunlight there was still enough daylight spilling in through the open window to make the fresh coat of white semigloss gleam. Although the plumbing had been updated in the fifties, the actual fixtures were original which was why they were shooting the flashback in this room.

 Weirdly, although thirty years older, it made Masons bathroom look dated and . . . haunted.

 It was just the flickering shadows from the cedar tree and air in the pipes,he told himself.

 Whatever gets you through your day, his self snorted.

 Bite me.

 The heavy door cut off all sound from the hall. He had no idea if Mason was still prowling around looking for him, hunting his missing bagel.

 At least if the taps work, I can wash my hands.

 Using the only nonsticky square inch on his right palm, Tony pushed against the old lever faucet and turned on the cold water. And waited. Just as he was about to turn it off again, figuring they hadnt hooked up the water yet, liquid gushed from the faucet, thick and reddish brown, smelling of iron and rot.

 Heart in his throat, he jumped back.

 Blood!

 No wait, rust.

 By the time he had his breathing under control, the water was running clear. Feeling foolish, he rinsed off his palms, dried them on his jeans, and closed the tap. Checking out his reflection in the big, somewhat spotty mirror over the sink, he frowned.

 Behind him, on the wall . . . it looked as if someone had drawn a finger through the wet paint. When he turned, changing the angle of the light, the mark disappeared. Mirrorfinger mark. No mirrorno mark.

 And now we know where the paint on Lees tux came from. Next question: who put it there?Brenda seemed like the prime suspect. Shed been upstairs delinting both actors before the scene, shed have noticed the marks had they already been laid down, and the result had been Lee bare-assed in her trailer. . . .and lets not forget that shes already familiar with his ass. He probably hadnt even noticed her stroking him on the way by.

 Opportunityand motive pointed directly to Brenda.

 Time . . .

 Tony glanced at his watch.

 Crap! Twenty-three minutes since Adam had called a twenty-minute break. Bright side, Mason wouldnt be able to bug him about a rule-breaking snack in front of the others. Slipping out into the hall, Tony ran for the back stairs figuring he could circle around from the kitchen. With any luck no one had missed him yetone of the benefits of being low man on the totem pole.

 As he ran, he realized Mason had been right about one thing.Its fucking freezing up here .



 Why was he in the bathroom? Graham said wed be safe in there, that they wouldnt be using it until tomorrow.

 Be quiet, Stephen! Cassie pinched her brothers arm. Do you want him to hear you?

 Ow. He cant hear us from way over here!

 Im not so sure. She frowned thoughtfully as the young man disappeared through the door leading to the stairs between the servants rooms and the kitchen. I get the feeling he doesnt miss much.

 Stephen snorted and patted a strand of dark blond hair back into the pomaded dip over his forehead. Good thing we werentin the bathroom then.

 Yes . . . good thing.



 Sunset was at 8:54pm. It was one of those things that Tony couldnt not remember. He checked the paper every morning, he noted the time, and, as the afternoon became evening, he kept an eye on his watch.

 Wanda, the new office PA, showed up at seven with the next days sidesthe half size sheets with all the background information as well as the necessary script pages. Tony helped her pick them up off the porch.

 This is so totally embarrassing!

 He handed her a messy stack of paper. Dont worry about it, everyone trips. Earlier, I did a little falling with style down the back stairs. The risers were uneven and hed missed his step, very nearly pitching headfirst down the narrow incline.

 Falling with style is better than falling with skinned knee, Wanda muttered, shoving the retrieved sides under one arm and dabbing at the congealing blood with a grubby tissue. And how many people saw you?

 No one, but . . .

 You saw me. She pointed at him. And Brenda did. She pointed back toward the trailer. Because I heard that distinctive snicker of hers. And the Sikh with the potted plant.

 Dalai. The prop guy.

 Whatever. My point, three people saw me. No one saw you andIm bleeding.

 Yeah, well, dont bleed on the weather report. What would we do if we didnt know there was a seventy percent chance of rain tomorrow?

 She snapped erect and glared at him, nostrils pinched so tightly he wondered how she could breathe and talk at the same time. Thats not very supportive!

 What?

 That comment was not very supportive!

 Kidding. Tony tapped the corners of his mouth. Smiling, see?

 Its not funny!

 But I wasnt . . .

 Im taking these inside now!

 Whatever. He wasnt quite mocking her. Quite. Okay, maybe a little. Ill just be out here cleaning your blood off the stone.

 Fine. Spinning on one air-cushioned heel, she stomped in through the front doors.

 Someone needs to switch to decaf, he sighed. Hed been standing not three feet from the steps when she fell, close enough to hear her knee make that soft/hard definite tissue damage sound, and he had a pretty good idea of where shed impacted with the porch. Weirdly, while thered been lines of red dribbling down her shin, he couldnt find any blood on the stones. As embarrassed as she was, shed probably just bounced up before the blood actually started to flow.

 Probably.

 The show packed up around 8:30pm.

 Nice short day, people. Good work. Eleven and a half hours, he added to Sorge as he moved out of an electricians way. No way well make that tomorrow, not with all those extras.

 Tonys grasp of French profanity wasnt quite good enough to understand the specifics of the DPs reply.

 Chapter Two

 ?? ?

 HEY, HENRY, its Tony. He shifted the phone to his other hand and reached into the back of the fridge. Its highly likely that were going to run late tomorrow night. . . How long had that Chinese takeout been in there? . . . so I was thinking that Id better . . . Opening the container, he stared at the uniform greenish-gray surface of the food. He had no idea what hed ordered way back when but he had a strong suspicion it hadnt looked like that.. . . meet you at the . . . The click of a receiver being lifted cut him off. Henry?

 Tony? Sorry, I was in the shower.

 Going out to eat?

 He could hear the smile in the other mans voice. Is that any of your business?

 Nope. Just curious. The bologna still looked edible. Well, most of it. He tossed it on the counter and closed the refrigerator door. Weve got extras working tomorrow, so Ill likely be late.

 You sayextras like youre thinking of calling in pest control to deal with them.

 Im not, but Sorge and Peter are. They hate working with extras. Tony grabbed a little plastic packet of mustard from a cup filled with identical plastic packets, ripped off the top with his teeth, and squirted the contents out onto a slice of bread. It might be best if I meet you at the theater. The show starts at ten, so if Im not there by quarter to, just go in and sit down. Ill find you.

 We can call it off.

 Not a chance. How often do you get to go to the theater in the summer? Friends of Tonys from film school were taping the play and the high-profile television stars playing the leads for the local cable channel. Opening curtain was at ten because they couldnt get the camera equipment until after their day jobs finished with it. Tony had no idea how theyd convinced the theater or the actors to go along with their schedule but that wasnt his problem. When hed heard about it, hed realized it was a perfect show for Henry. Given late sunsets and early sunrises, Henry didnt get out much in the summer. Ripping the slightly green edges off the half dozen slices of bologna, he stacked them on the bread and mustard. You know where the Vogue is, right?

 Its on Granville, Tony, practically around the corner. I think I can find it.

 Hey, Im just checking. He applied mustard to the second slice of bread.

 Did you know that the Vogue Theater was haunted?

 Really haunted or haunted for publicitys sake?

 Bit of both, I suspect.

 Tony took a bite of his sandwich. Think well see anything tomorrow night?

 I think well have to wait until tomorrow night to find out.

 Im just asking because our last experience with ghosts wasnt much fun. Several innocents had died and, until the whole shadows-from-another-world incident, the experience had provided fodder for the bulk of Tonys nightmares. Well, that and the undead ancient Egyptian wizard.

 Apparently this guy is a lot less interactive, Henry told him dryly. What are you eating?

 Bolognasandwich.

 I was thinking Id have Italian.

 Good night, Henry! Shaking his head, Tony thumbed the phone off and tossed it into the tangle of blankets on the pull-out couch. Over four hundred and sixty years old, he commented to the apartment at large. Youd think hed learn another joke.

 Vampires: not big on the whole contemporary humor thing.



 Seventy percent chance of rain, my ass, Tony muttered as he drove out to the end ofDeer Lake Drive and parked behind Sorges minivan. The rain sheeted down his windshield with such volume and intensity the wipers were barely able to keep up. He turned off the engine, grabbed his backpack off the passenger seat, and flicked the hood up on his green plastic rain cape. Sure, it looked geeky, but it kept him and his backpack mostly dry. Besides, it wasnt quite seven-thirty in the freakingam ACTRA rules stipulated a twelve-hour break for the talent but only ten for the crewhe was in the middle of a park, about to head down an overgrown path to a forgotten housewho the hell was going to see him?



 Stephen turned from the window smiling broadly. Listen to the water roar in the gutters, Cass! Thisll fill the cistern for sure. Grahams going to be on cloud nine.

 And its all about Graham being happy, isnt it? she muttered, rubbing bare arms.

 Thats not what I meant. He frowned. Whats the matter with you?

 I dont know. When she looked up, her eyes were unfocused. Something feels . . .

 Different?

 She shook her head. Familiar.



 The trees cut the rain back to a bearable deluge. Carefully avoiding new, water-filled ruts and the occasional opening where rain poured through the covering branches, Tony plodded toward the house. Half a kilometer later, as he came out into the open, and saw the building squatting massive and dark at the end of the drive, thunder cracked loud enough to vibrate his fillings and a jagged diagonal of lightning backlit the house.

 Well, isnt that a clich, he sighed, kicked a ten-kilo hunk of mud off his shoe, and kept walking.

 Finally standing just inside the kitchen door, he shook the excess water off his rain cape out onto the huge flagstone slab that floored the small porch, added his shoes to the pile of wet footwear, and pulled a pair of moccasins out of his pack. Stopping by the big prep table, he snagged a cup of coffeemore practical than most in the television industry, craft services had set up in the kitchenand headed for the butlers pantry where the ADs office had been set. He shoved his backpack into one of the lower cabinets, signed in, and grabbed a radio. So far, channel one, the ADs channel was quiet. Adam might not be in yet or he just might not be talkingimpossible to tell. On channel eight, the genny op and the rest of his transport crew had a few things to say about keeping things running in the rain. Impressed by the way the profanities seemed to make it through the interference intact, Tony set his unit back on channel one, and headed for the conservatory at the back of the house.

 Extras holding.

 Tony could already hear them; a low hum as two dozen voices all complained about their agents at the same time.

 Passing by the bottom of the back stairs, the servants stairs, another sound caught his attention. A distant, rhythmic creak.Er er. Er er. Like something . . . swinging. Someone had probably left the door open on the second floor. He thought about heading up and closing it, then spotted the black cat sitting at the three-quarter mark and changed his mind. Uneven, narrow, and steep, the stairs had tried to kill him once already and that was without the added fun of something to trip over. A sudden draft of cold air flowing down from the second floor raised the hair on the back of his neck and consolidated his decision. Damp clothes, cold airnot a great combination. Besides, he was already running late.

 Sucking back his coffee, he hurried along a narrow hall and finally down the three stone steps into the conservatory.

 The house had been deserted of everyone but hired caretakers for almost thirty years and it seemed as though none of those caretakers had cared to do any indoor gardening. The conservatory was empty of even the dried husks of plant life. The raised beds were empty. The small pond was empty. The big stone urns were empty. The actual floor space, on the other hand, was a little crowded.

 Over on the other side of the pond, several men and women were changing into their own modern evening dress with the nonchalance of people for whom the novelty of seeing others in their underwear had long since worn off. Ditto the self-consciousness of being seen. Crammed between the raised beds and the stone urns, still more men and women already dressedsat on plastic folding chairs, drank coffee, read newspapers, and waited for their turn in makeup.

 The two makeup stations were up against the stone wall the conservatory shared with the house. Some shows had the supporting actors do their own face and hair, butEverett had refused to allow it and CB, usually so tight he could get six cents change from a nickel, had let him have his way. Sharyl, Everetts assistant who worked part-time for CB Productions and part-time at a local funeral parlor, handled the second chair. Curling irons, hair spray, and a multitude of brushes were all flung about with dazzling speed and whenEverett yelled, Time! Tony realized theyd been racing.

 Not fair! Sharyl complained as she flicked the big powder brush over the high arc of male pattern baldness. I had more surface to cover.

 I had a more delicate application.

 Yeah, well, Im faster when theyre lying down. She stepped back and tossed the big brush onto the tray. Youre lovely.

 Tony didnt think the manwhite, thirty to forty, must provide own evening dresslooked convinced. Or particularly happy to hear it.

 Next two!Everett bellowed over the drumming of the rain on the glass. He waved the completed extras out of the chairs, adding, Dont touch your face! Tony couldnt hear the womans reply, butEverett s response made it fairly clear. So itch for your art.

 Waving at a couple of people he knew from other episodes and a guy hed met a couple of times at the Gandydancer, Tony made his way over to the card table set up beside the coffee urn. He pulled the clipboard out from under a spill of cardboard cups and checked the sign-in page. It seemed a little short of names.

 Hey! Everybody! The rain threatened to drown him out, so he yelled louder. If you havent signed the sheet, please do it now. I have to check your name against our master list.

 No one moved.

 If your names arent on both lists, you wont get paid!

 Half a dozen people hurried toward him.

 Other shows would have hired a daily PA or TADtrainee assistant directorto ride herd on the extras. CB figured they were all adults and were therefore fully capable of walking from the holding area to the set without him having to pay to see that they managed it. Human nature being what it was, and with two thirds of the season in the can, Tony could pretty much guarantee that someoneor some two or threewould wander off and need to be brought back to the herd while he did his best Border collie impression. Snarling permitted; biting frowned on.

 It took a moment for him to realize that the scream was not a rehearsal. Extras generally did a lot of screaming on shows starring vampires. Some of them, disdaining the more spontaneous terror of their contemporaries, liked to practice.

 On the other side of the conservatory, a half dressed woman clutching a pair of panty hose to her chest, backed away from one of the raised beds and continued to scream. By the time Tony reached her, the screams had become whimpers, barely audible over the sound of the rain.

 What? he demanded. Whats wrong?

 Conditioned to respond to anyone with a radio and a clipboard, she pointed a trembling finger toward the garden. I sat down, on the edge, to put on . . . Taupe streamers waved from her other hand. . . . and I sort of fell. Back. Glancing around, she suddenly realized she had an audience and, in spite of her fear, began to play to it. I put my hand down on the dirt. It sank in just a little. The next thing I knew, somethinggrabbed it.

 Something?

 Fingers. I felt fingers close around mine. Cold fingers. A half turn toward her listeners. Like fingers from agrave .

 Tony had to admit that the raised beds did look rather remarkably like graves.Yeah, and so does any dirt pile longer than it is wide. He stepped forward, noticed where the dirt had been disturbed, and poked it with the clipboard. He didnt believe the bit about the fingers, of course, but there was no point in taking unnecessary chances. Over the last few years hed learned that belief had absolutely nothing to do with reality.

 The clipboard sank about a centimeter into the dirt and stopped with a clunk.

 Clunk sounded safe enough.

 In Tonys experience, the metaphysical seldom went clunk.

 A moments digging later, he pulled out a rusted, handle-less garden claw.

 Was this what you felt?

 No. She shuddered, dramatically. I felt fingers.

 Cold fingers. Tony held the claw toward her and she touched it tentatively.

 Okay, maybe.

 Maybe?

 Fine. Her snort was impressive. Probably. Okay? It felt like fingers, its barely dawn, and its kind of spooky in here, and I havent had any coffee yet!

 Show over, the other extras began to drift away and the woman whod done the screaming pointedly continued dressing. Tony tossed the claw back onto the garden bed and headed for the door. Drawing level with Everett, he asked for a time check.

 Theyll be ready when theyre needed, Everett told him, layering on scarlet lipstick with a lavish hand. But dont quote me on that.

 I kind of have to quote you on that, Everett. Adams going to ask.

 Fine. He pointedly capped the lipstick and drew a mascara wand from its tube with a flourish. But dont say I didnt warn you. Oh, calm down, he added as the middle-aged woman in the chair recoiled from the waving black bristles. Thirty years in this business and Ive yet to put an eye out.

 I put one in once, Sharyl announced and Tony figured that was his cue to leave. Sharyls mortuary stories were usually a hoot, but somehow he just wasnt in the mood for fun and frolic with the dead. Pausing on the threshold, he glanced back over the room to do a final head count. Party guests and cater-waiters clumped with their own kind, making his job a little easier.

 Twenty-five.

 Only twenty-four signatures.

 A second count gave him the right number of heads and a third confirmed it. He mustve miscounted the first timeit wasnt easy getting an accurate fix on the crowd of guests around the central urn. About to turn, he stopped and squinted toward the back garden, a flurry of movement having caught his eye. It had almost looked as if the claw had stood on its broken handle and waved its little claw-fingers at him. Except that the claw was nowhere in sight.

 Wondering what he actually might have seengiven the absence of the clawgot lost in a sudden realization. If the claw was missing, someone had taken it.Great. Weve got a souvenir hunter.

 Every now and then cattle calls would spit up a background player who liked to have a little something to help him remember the job. With a souvenir hunter on the set, small, easily portable items had a tendency to disappear. During episode seven, theyd lost the inkwell from Raymond Darks desk. After CB expressed his thoughts about the incident No one from that group works again until I get my property back!theyd had four inkwells returned. Unfortunately, most of the small, easily portable items from this set belonged to the current owners of Caulfield House not CB Productions and the odds were good the crew wouldnt immediately realize it if something went missing.

 Id better let Keisha know.

 He grabbed a cinnamon bun on his way through the kitchen, dropped the signed sheet in the ADs office, and headed for the drawing room. The original script had called for a ball and the presence of a ballroom was one of the reasons CB had jumped at using the house. Problem was, the ballroom was huge and the number of people it would have taken to fill iteven given the tricks of the tradewould have emptied the extras budget. With episode twenty-two and its howling mob of peasants with torches and pitchforks still in the pipeline, the ball became a smaller gathering and the venue moved to the drawing room.

 A huge fieldstone fireplace dominated one end of a room paneled in Douglas fir. Above it, mounted right on the stone, was a massive gold-framed mirror. Six, tall, multipaned windows divided the outside wall and glass-fronted built-in bookcases faced them along the inside. The curtains were burgundy with deep gold tassels and tiebacksthe two colors carried into the furniture upholstery. The room seemed essentially untouched by almost a hundred years of renovation and redecoration. Standing in the midst of this understated luxury were Peter, Sorge, the gaffer, the key grip, and Keisha, the set decorator, all looking up.

 The ceilings are high enough. We can shoot under them, Peter said as Tony joined them.

 We are keeping the cameras low, Sorge agreed. Keeping the shots filled with the people.

 Still staring at the ceiling, the gaffer frowned. A diffuser under each of them might help.

 Couldnt hurt, the key grip allowed.

 Keisha made a noncommittal albeit dubious sound.

 So Tony looked up.

 Holy fuck. Those were three of the most hideous looking chandeliers Tony had ever seen. In fact, he wasnt entirely certain they could even be called chandeliers except for the dangly bits. Although what the dangly bits were actually made of he had no idea. A certainLeave it to Beaverness about them suggested the same 1950s vision that had been responsible for the redecorated parts of the master suite, the bathroom in particular.

 Something.

 Rocking in place.

 Forward.

 Back.

 Not that particular.

 I think Mr. Foster has succinctly summed up the situation, Peter sighed and Tony looked down to find all four looking at him. Did you want one of us for something?

 Uh, yeah, Keisha mostly, but you should probably all know. Weve got a souvenir hunter. Theres already a piece of crap missing from the conservatory.

 Crap?

 Broken end of a garden claw.

 Crap, Keisha acknowledged. But not our crap either. All right, Ill make sure Chris keeps an eye out and well do a double count when we pack up. In the meantime, someones going to have to get pictures of everything in those cabinets.

 Tony . . .

 Yeah, he knew it. He was usually someone.

 . . . get Tinas digital, Peter continued, and get those shots while we finish setup. We all know how much CB loves unexpected bills.

 Only the center cabinet was actually a bookcase. The others were too shallow for books and instead displayed cups and saucers, grimy bowls of china flowers, and the little plastic toys from inside Kinder EggsTony suspected the three-part water buffalo and the working lime-green windmill were the most recent additions to the decor. Behind the water buffalo, he found a yellowed card buffed down to the same color as the shelf by a thick layer of dust. Theoretically, he wasnt supposed to touch.

 When he flipped the card over, the black handwriting was still dark and legible.

 Finger of a Franciscan monk killed by the Papal Inquisition, 1651. Acquired August 17, 1887.

 There was no sign of the finger although on the next shelf he did find half a dozen of the tiny china figurines that used to come in boxes of tea and were required inventory in every cheesy antique store in the country.

 He finished up just as his radio sent a spike of pure static into his head.

 Adam, this is Brenda. Lee and Mazzzzzzzzzit are in wardrobe.

 Roger that. Everetts on his. . . The last word was lost under another burst of static and some rather impressive profanity from the other end of the room. Tony!

 He closed the last cabinet and turned toward the 1AD.

 Send Everett out to the trailer and start moving the extras up here.

 Why does it have to be extras, Peter muttered as Tony dropped the camera back off at Tinas station. I hear the Hall of Presidents is closed down for renovations; why cant we borrow their animatronics? Toss em in a tux, stick a martini glass in their hands . . . Washington would look very feminine in a high collar and some ruffles; hes already in a wig. Whod notice? But no, we have to use real people. Real people who dont listen, who never know their right from their left, who all want their fifteen minutes, who makesuggestions . . .

 The directors continuing diatribe faded as Tony moved out into the hall heading for the conservatory. Everett, whod known the talent should be in the trailer at nine, was on the move when he arrived. Sharyl was packing up her case, ready for on-set touch-ups. All that was left was moving the extras.

 Humming the theme fromRawhide was optional.

 With most of the crowd on the correct heading, Tony raced across the kitchen to prevent an unauthorized side trip.

 Hey, where are you going? Hand flat against the wood, he shoved the door closed before it actually opened.

 The actress shrugged. I was just wondering what was down there.

 Probably the basement. The door felt like ice under his palm. Just keep moving.

 Leaning in closer, she drew her tongue slowly across a full and already moist lower lip. Youreso serious . . . No hard feelings? Her voice dripped single entendre.

 Give it up, love. One of the waiters took her arm, winked at Tony, and started her moving again. Id have better luck.

 What? She shot Tony a frustrated look he answered with a shrug, and then allowed herself to be towed away. Are there no straight men left in television?

 Youre asking the wrong fag, puss. Besides, hes only the production assistant.

 I know that! I was starting at the bottom.

 An admirable sentiment.

 As they followed the rest of the extras down the hall, Tony lifted his hand from the door and stared down at the red mark on his palm. It looked a bit like a lettera Russian letter maybe, or Greek, or Hebrew. Before he could decide which, it had disappeared. When he touched the door again, it was no colder than any other surface.

 You dont want to be going down there.

 He spun around so quickly he had to catch his balance on the door handle. Jesus! Snatching his hand off the metal, he sucked at what felt like a burn on the skin between finger and thumb. Why dont I want to go down there? he demanded, the question a little muffled by his hand.

 Weather like this, the basement floods. Probably six inches of water down there now. Mr. Brummels red-rimmed eyes narrowed. Nasty things in the water. You just be keeping your pretty ladies and gentlemen away from the nasty things.

 What?

 The caretaker snorted and shifted his grip on the black cat in his arms. Look, kid, we got the original knob-and-tube wiring down there. Damned stuff gets wet and every piece of metal in the place is conducting power. Now, I personally dont give a crap if nosy parkers fry, but I dont like doing the paperwork the insurance companies want, so stay out. You already picked up a spark off the door, didnt you?

 It could have been a spark. Yeah.

 Well, there, then.

 Isnt all that free-floating electricity dangerous?

 Yep. And that . . . He enunciated each word carefully. . . . is why you dont want to be going down to the basement. Let me see your hand.

 Cat tucked under one arm, his fingers closed around Tonys wrist before Tonyd decided how he intended to respond.

 The caretakers second snort was dismissive as he peered at the dark pink splotch. This is nothing. You arent even bleeding. His grip tightened to the edge of pain, his fingers unnaturally warm. He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowed, his nose flaredhe looked like a poster boy for dire warnings. You dont want to be bleeding, not in this house.

 Why not?

 Because were miles from anywhere. He didnt so much release Tonys wrist as toss him his arm back. For pitys sake, kid, use your head. These cinnamon buns for anyone?

 Sure. Help yourself. The uh, cat. . . is it yours?

 No. I just like carrying it around.

 The cat yawned, the inside of its mouth very pink and white against the ebony fur.

 Rubbing his wrist, Tony backed slowly out of the kitchen. He didnt turn until he was halfway through the butlers pantry and Adams voice filled his earjack.



 Grahams not going to like this, Cass. This isnt what Id call staying out of sight.

 She smoothed down the heavy velvet folds of her skirt and smiled. Its hiding in plain sight. Like the purloined letter.

 What about that feeling you had? The familiar feeling?

 What about it? Rising up on her toes, she peered over the heads of the people milling about the drawing room. It felt familiar.

 Cassie! You just want to meet that actor.

 Well, why not? Hes cute. And youre the one who was complaining you were bored. She settled back on her heels, tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and smiled up at him through her lashes. This isnt boring.

 Its dangerous, Stephen insisted, but his hand closed over hers and he didnt sound as convinced as he had.

 With all those people and all those lights crammed into one room, theres energy to spare.

 Its not the amount of energy. He glanced around and shook his head. Theyre all older than us.

 So frown. It makes you look older.

 Theyre going to notice . . .

 They wont. Her smile was triumphant as she waved a hand at the bank of lights. Its hot enough in here that in a worst case scenario all well do is drop the temperature down to a more bearable level. Seriously, theyd thank us if they knew. Come on, hes over by the door.

 No one noticed them as they crossed the room. The waiters practiced holding their trays and offering drinks in ways most likely to get them asked back for a larger part, maybe even a part with a name, later in the season. The guests did much the same with bright, animated, but-not-upstaging-the-stars, background chatter.

 Cassie, this isnt going to work.

 Well, it wont if youre going to be so negative. Just think party guest.

 But . . .

 Concentrate, Stephen! As they neared the door, she licked her lower lip and dragged her brother around to face her. Is my face still on?

 He frowned. I guess. But you overdid it with the eye shadow.



 Lee was standing by the door talking to a couple of the extras. It was one of the things Tony liked about himhe didnt have the whole,Ive got my name and face in the opening credits and you dont thing going on. He was smiling down at the girl now, saying something she had to lean closer to hear, and Tony felt an irrational stab of jealousy. Irrational and idiotic and yes, still pathetic.

 Places, everyone!

 Interesting that Lee seemed to be telling them where they should stand. More interesting that they were standing almost entirely out of the shot.

 All right, people, listen up. This is whats going to happen! Peter moved out into the center of the room and raised both hands as though he was conducting a symphony instead of episode seventeen of a straight to syndication show about a vampire detectivenot so much a symphony as three kids with kazoos. Mason and Lee are going to come in from the hall and cross the room to the fireplace as you all go through the usual party shtick. Youll all ignore them until Lee calls for your attention, which you will give to him. Mason will then say his piece, youll listen attentively, reacting silently as you see fitjust remember that reaction because odds are good youll be repeating it all morning. Do not drop your glass. The glasses are rented. Masonll finish, and Ms. Sinclair . . .

 A distinguished looking silver-haired bit player Tony had last seen playing dumpster diver number two in a CBC Movie of the Week, raised her martini glass in acknowledgment.

 . . . youll say your line: If youre trying to frighten us, Mr. Dark, youre not succeeding. Then Mason will reply, Im not trying. Not yet. And well cut. Lets run through once for cameras.

 The run-through necessitated a few adjustments in the crowd and their reactions.

 What the hell was that?

 Astonishment? the party-goer offered, checks flushed.

 Are you asking me? Peter sighed. Because if you are, Id have to say it looked more like indigestion. Gear it down.

 The girl divided her attention between the room in general and Lee, smiling in his direction like she knew a secret.

 Lets roll tape on this one. Peter disappeared behind the monitor and Adam moved out onto the floor.

 Quiet, please! Lets settle, people! He glanced over the crowd and, when he was satisfied, yelled, Rolling!

 Tony, along with nearly everyone else in a headset, repeated the word. It sounded in the hall outside the drawing room, at the craft services table in the kitchen, maybe even out at the trailers. Then Katebecause CBs budgets never quite extended as far assecond assistant camerastepped forward and called the slate.

 Scene three, take one! Mark!

 The boy standing next to the girl whod been talking to Lee jumped at the crack.

 Tony frowned. And hewas a boy, too. Although his evening clothes fit him like theyd been made for him, he had to be at least ten years younger than anyone else in the room. Well, it wouldnt be the first time someone on the crew had snuck a relative or two in. As long as they behaved themselves, CB was all in favor of extras he didnt have to pay. It wasnt that these two werent behaving themselves, it was just. . . Actually, Tony had no idea what it was about them that kept drawing his attention. Except maybe that Lee had been paying attention to them.

 How often do I have to say this is pathetic before it finally sinks in?

 Lee and Mason had barely reached the fireplace when Peter broke off a quiet discussion with Sorge and yelled cut.

 Its no good. Coming out from behind the monitors, he pulled off his headset. The mirror over the fireplace is flaring out. Sharyl!

 Yeah?

 Were going to need to use some hair spray. Tony, take care of it. Meanwhile, Mason, as you come in . . .

 The end of the suggestion was lost as Tony moved away from the director. He reached Sharyl just ahead of a mascara failure and a lipstick problem.

 I swear its so hot under those lights, its melting right off my lashes.

 Its actually comfortable where I am, but I cant help chewing my lips while we wait.

 Lipstick Problem had been standing near the girl-whod-been-talking-to-Lee and the boy-who-was-younger.

 And why do I care? Tony wondered as he took the offered hair spray with a nod of thanks. He could reach the bottom half of the mirror from the hearth, but the whole area was so supersized hed need a little help for the rest. The ladders that had been used to set the lights were out in the hall, but maneuvering one through a crowded drawing room would be time consuming. Figuring Peter would appreciate him thinking of and then saving production time, he snagged the directors chair on the way past and set it on the hearth.

 The trick was to spray on a nice even coat. Enough to cut the glare but not so much that the audience wondered what the hell was on the glass. And he should probably move the chair in order to safely reach the other end of the mirror.

 Yeah, but who wants to live forever?

 Plastic bottle of hair spray in his right hand, thumb on the pump, left hand gripping the mantel, he leaned way out and just for an instant dropped his gaze below the line of application.

 There.

 In the reflection of the far side of the room.

 The boy-who-was-younger was in a loose white shirt. Well, white except for the splashes of what had to be blood had to be because a huge triangular cut in the right side of his neck looked as though it just missed decapitating him. The girl-whod-been-talking-to-Lee was wearing a summer dress, one strap torn free, the whole fitted bodice as well as her bare shoulders stained a deep crimson. She was also short the top left quarter of her headher face missing along the nose and out one cheekbone, her left eye completely gone.

 He twisted around.

 Now that hed seen them, the glamouror whatever the nonwizard, dead-people equivalent was calledno longer worked.

 Nearly headless. Chunk of face missing.

 Their eyesall three of themwidened as they somehow realized he could see them as they were, not as theyd appeared. Actually, he kind of suspected his expression was giving the whole thing away.

 The vanishing . . . not entirely unexpected.

 The chair tipping sideways, as gravity won out and he headed for the floor . . . he had to admit hed been kind of expecting that, too.

 Then a strong hand closed around his arm and yanked him back onto his feet. He fought to find his balance, won the fight, and turned to look down into a pair of concerned green eyes.

 Are you all right, Tony? Lee asked, one hand still loosely clasped around Tonys bicep. You look like youve seen a ghost.

 Chapter Three

 ?? ?

 TONY! THE mirror!

 Right, the mirror. The mirror where hed just seen the dead up and animateor as animate as any extras ever were between shots. Oh, fuck . . . the extras! If that feeling wasnt his blood actually running cold, it was pretty damned closekind of a sick feeling in his stomach that moved out to his extremities so quickly he thought he might hurl. Traditionally, the presence of extras right before disaster meant a high body count and dead people in the drawing room certainly seemed like an accurate harbinger of disaster to Tony.

 He stared at their reflections in the small part of the mirror still clear of hair spray. They all seemed oblivious to their fate.Might as well dress them in red shirts now and get it over with!

 Tony!

 He twisted around to see the first assistant director staring up at him in annoyance.

 Finish spraying the damned mirror!

 It might be damned, he supposed. Damned could explain why it showed dead people. . . .

 Tony?

 Tony looked down into Lees concerned face and forced his brain to start working again. It wasnt as if these were the first ghosts hed ever seen. Okay, technically, he hadnt seen the last sethed only heard them screamingbut hewas used to metaphysical pop-ups. Hell, he used to sleep with one. Can I talk to you for a minute? I mean . . .A gesture took in the chair, the mirror, and the plastic bottle of hair spray. . . . when Im done.

 Dark brows drew in, and Lee glanced back at Peter still talking to Mason. Sure.

 Directing Masonor rather, Masons egotook time.

 A moment later, Tony was back on the floor. Those two kids you were talking to . . . At Lees suddenly closed expression, he paused. Its okay, Im not going to get them into trouble. I know they werent supposed to be in the scene. Hello, understatement. I just wondered who they were.

 Lee considered itconsidered Tonyfor a moment then he shrugged. Theyre Mr. Brummells niece and nephew. Cassie, short for Cassandra, which she informed me was a stupid, old-fashioned name, and Stephen. They were . . . well,she was just so thrilled at being here that I didnt have the heart to turn them in. I warned them that they had to stay in the background, though.

 Yeah, I saw you positioning them. You didnt notice anything strange?

 Strange?

 About the way they looked.

 Only that they were younger than everyone else in the room. Id say mid-to-late teens, no older.

 And not going to get any older either.All right. Were shooting an episode abouta haunted house ina haunted house and that sort of thing never ends well. Real dead people not so big on the happy ending. So what do I do? I get everyone outof the haunted house. And how do I do that?

 Production assistants had about as much power as. . . well, bottom line, they didnt have any power. None. Nada. Zip. And zilch.

 He had to call the boss. Since CB remembered the shadows and the Shadowlord, CB would believe him. Announcing to anyone else that hed seen a ghosttwo ghostswould result in ridicule at best.A ghost? He could hear the broad sarcasm in Peters voice.Why dont you go see if theyll work for scale; Im sure CB would appreciate the savings.

 Come to think of it, CBwould appreciate the savings. And he wouldnt be too happy about losing his chance to shoot in a house hed already paid a weeks rent on. Maybe he could get CB to agree to put the ghosts in the show. They clearly wanted to be involved; maybe official ghost status would be enough to placate them.

 Youre going to exhaust the hamster.

 What?

 Lee grinned. The hamster running around on that wheel in your head. Youre trying to figure out how to keep those kids out of trouble, arent you?

 Close enough. Yeah.

 Dont worry about it. Ill put in a good word for them.Darkest Night isnt quite a solo act no matter what Mason seems to think. They turned together to look at the clump of people grouped around the actor who was standing, arms crossed, glaring at Peter. You might tell them to keep out of his way, though.

 Sure, Ill hold a sance and get right on that. Even if he got hold of CB, how was he supposed to get hold of the ghosts? Glancing around the room, he doubted there was a medium in among all the size twos.

 Want to share the joke? Lee asked as Tony snickered.

 He did. And as bad a joke as it was, he even thought that Lee would appreciate itright up until the back story killed the laughs. As he hesitated, Lees expression changed; closing in on itself until the open, curious, friendly expression was gone and all that remained was the same polite interest he showed the rest of the world.

 Never mind. I should get back to work before we end up keeping the extras over their four-hour minimum.

 Tony couldnt think of a thing to say as Lee flashed him the same smile hed flashed a thousand cameras and walked away. An opportunity missed . . . An opportunity for what, he had no ideabut he couldnt shake the notion that hed just dropped the ball in a big way.

 A sudden soft pressure against his shins drew his gaze off Lees tuxedo-clad back and toward the floor. The caretakers black cat made another pass across his legs.

 Tony! Ear jack dangling against his shoulder, Adam approached the fireplace. You get that mirror done?

 He held up the plastic bottle. Its covered.

 Good. Clean your grubby footprints off Peters chair, put it back behind the monitors, and . . . His head dropped forward and he stared at the cat now rubbing against his jeans. Where the hell did this animal come from?

 I think it belongs to Mr. Brummel, the caretaker; he was holding it earlier.

 Then grab it and get it back to him. The last thing we need is an unattended animal running around.

 One of the extras shrieked with laughter. Both men turned in time to see Mason moving his mouth away from her throat.

 Anotherunattended animal, Adam added wearily, shoving the ear jack back where it belonged. Hes got a bed in his dressing room, doesnt he?

 Its a bedroom.

 Right. Lets move it with the cat, then; weve got to do what we can to get these people out of here before he talks her into a nooner.

 Given that it was the woman whod put the moves on him in the kitchen, Tony suspected You want to? would probably be conversation enough. He bent and wrapped his hands tentatively around the cat. It squeezed through his grip, skittered about six feet away, sat down, and licked its butt.

 Adam . . . ? Peters voice.

 Tonys got it. Adams answer.

 A fine sentiment but less than truthfulevery time he got close enough for another grab, the cat moved. Once or twice, his fingertips ghosted over soft fur, but that was it. As amber eyes glanced back mockingly and four legs performed a diagonal maneuver impossible on two, he had no doubt the cat was playing to its snickering audience. At least it seemed to be moving toward the small door in the back corner of the drawing room.

 The library,he thought, as the cat slipped through the half-open door and disappeared.Ill just close the door and the catll be out of our hair. A sudden burst of static clamped his left hand to his head.Son of a bitch!

 Tony! Weve got sffffft stored in there. I dont want the cat pissssssssstnk on it.

 Yeah, well, nothing harder to get out than cat pisstnk on sffft. He sighed and kept going.

 In spite of the rain, the two long windows to his left let in enough daylight for him to see the cat moving purposefully across the room toward the other door. He could understand why it didnt want to linger. The empty shelves didnt feel empty. They felt as though the books theyd held had left a dark imprint that lingered long after the books themselves were gone. The only piece of furniture in the room was a huge desk and a chair in the same red-brown wood. Tony had overheard Chris telling Adam that it had belonged to Creighton Caulfield himself. The fireplace shared a chimney with the drawing room and over the dark slab of mantel was a small, rectangular mirror framed in the same dark wood. Tony made a point of not looking in it. If there were ghosts in the library, he didnt want to know.

 Moving out and around a stack of cables and half a dozen extra lights, he picked up the pace.

 The cat slipped out the librarys main door, Tony following out into the main hall. His reaching hand touched tail. The cat picked up the pace, streaking toward the front doors, then turning at the last minute and heading up the stairs. Tony made the turn with considerably less grace and charged up the stairs after it. Three steps at a time slowed to two to one and at the three-quarter mark, as an ebony tail disappeared to the right, he realized there was no way in hell he was going to catch up.

 He reached the second floor as the cat reached the far end of the hall. It paused outside the door to the back stairs, turned, and looked at him in what could only be considered a superior wayno mistaking the expression even given the distanceand then disappeared into the stairwell.

 Just for an instant, he considered calling the cat to his hand, but the memory of the exploding beer bottle stopped him. While blowing up the caretakers cat would certainly keep it off the set, it seemed like a bit of an extreme solution.Not to mention hard on the cat. Besides, from what he knew about cats, itd probably head straight for the food in the kitchen where it would be Karens problem.

 Nice to have his suspicions about that creaking sound hed heard earlier proved rightthe upper door to the back stairshad been left open.

 Mind you, that doesnt explain the baby crying.

 The faint unhappy sound was coming from his left. He turned slowly. They werent using that end of the hall, so he had no idea what was down there.Gee, you think it could be the nursery? And the million-dollar question now became: was it a new ghost or were the two teenage ghosts hed already seen just screwing around trying to freak him out?

 Tony!

 For half a heartbeat, he thought it was the baby calling his name. Apparently, the freaking-him-out part was working fine.

 Haul assssssssssstkta wardrobe and pick up Maffffffffffffffffk other tie from Brenda.

 Im on it, Adam. He thumbed off his microphone and started back down the stairs. Investigating phantom babies would have to wait.And Im so broken up about that. . . .

 Crossing the porch, he felt someone watching him.

 The caretakers black cat sat staring at him from one of the deep stone sills that footed the dining room window.

 Good, he told it. Stay out here.

 Maybe a cat could make it from the second floor and through half of a very large house in the time it took him to cover a tenth of the distance. Maybe it was really motoring. Maybe he didnt much care. Cat weirdness was pretty low on his list at the moment.



 As Lee and Mason entered the drawing room for the fourth time, Tony headed for the kitchen and the side door. Tucked into the narrow breezeway linking the main house with the four-car garage added in the thirties, he thumbed CBs very private number into his cell phone. This was the number hed been given when theyd thought a dark wizards army from another reality was about to invade. This was the number hed been told never to use except in the case of a similar emergency. Ghosts werent exactly on the same level, but the barhad been set pretty damned high first time out.

 Were sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please hang up and try your call again.

 Great. His direct-to-CB number was worthless. One of the producers ex-wives had probably gotten hold of it. No chance of getting to him through the regular office number eithernot through Ruth the office manager, not by telling the truth anyway. Lying, on the other hand . . .

 Peter wants me to give CB a message.

 Give it to me and Ill pass it on.

 Uh, he said I was to give it directly to CB.

 Tough.

 Something more complex, perhaps . . .

 Theres been some of the usual trouble with Mason. Peter wants the boss to talk to him. Im to hand Mason the phone the moment CB picks up.

 That might work. When Mason was in one of his moods, CB was the court of last resort.



 Sorry, Tony. CBs in a meeting.

 But . . .

 Look, Peterll just have to handle whatever it is on his own. Call back in about an hour.

 But . . .

 Its a money meeting.

 Crap.

 Rumor was the police had called during a money meeting when theyd arrested CBs third wife for torching his Caddie after a matinee viewing ofWaiting to Exhale. CB dealt with it when the meeting was over.

 How longs this meeting supposed to last?

 How should I know? He could almost hear Ruth roll her eyes over the phone. All morning definitely.

 I guess Ill call when we break for lunch, then.

 Why dont you do that.

 Yeah, why dont I. Switching off his phone, Tony stared out at the rain pocking the puddles. Nothingll happen before lunch.

 He just wished that sounded less like famous last words.

 Nothing happened before lunch.

 The ghosts stayed out of sight. The baby stopped crying. Flies didnt gather, the walls didnt bleed, and there were no spectral voices telling them to get out. The traditional high body count never happened. Peter finished with the extras, completed the close-ups on the one bit player, and sent everybody home before they legally had to feed them. Although not feeding them was a relative term since craft services looked as though a swarm of locusts had passed through as they exited by way of the kitchen. Their souvenir hunter didnt snatch anything else, but neither was the broken garden claw returned to the conservatory.

 Im sure I can find a broken claw somewhere to bring in, Keisha sighed, standing over the kitchen sink washing makeup off cocktail glasses. Im just glad those tea bag figurines are still there. I could replace them off eBay, but we both know Id never see my thirteen dollars again.

 Thirteen bucks? Tony was amazed. Or appalled. He wasnt sure which. No shit?

 Shit was up to $72.86 last time I checked. Sure, they call it coprolites, but we know what it is. Are you going to let the cat in?

 The cat was sitting outside the kitchen window languidly tearing at the screen with the claws of one front paw.

 No. He threw the denial as much at the cat as at Keisha. It lives with the caretaker, so it can just go home. Its not like its homeless and starving.

 And speaking of starvingthe caterers had set up lunch in the dining room.

 Tony crossed the kitchen toward the butlers pantry, passed the back stairs, glanced up and thought he saw a black tail disappear around the second-floor landing heading for the third floor. He turned back toward the window. The cat was gone.Next time dont look up the stairs, he told himself heading through the butlers pantry.If you dont want to know, dont look.

 Hed barely settled down with a plate of ginger sesame chicken, noodles, and a Caesar salad when he felt a cold hand close over his shoulder.

 Geez, youre a little jumpy.

 Considering hed just dumped his lunch, not really much he could say to that.

 Listen, finish up quick . . . Adam paused and grinned as Tony scooped another handful of chicken and lettuce off his lap. . . . and head back to the studio. CB wants you to pick up the two kids playing the ghosts and bring them here. The 1AD cut off Tonys nascent protest. You did drive today, didnt you?

 Yeah, but . . .

 So that looks just because youve got ginger sauce seeping into your crotch?

 No . . . well, yeah. Setting his plate back on the table, Tony applied a napkin to the warm, wet, fabric and prayed that warm, wet and pressure wouldnt be enough to evoke a physical reaction.Oh, yeah, because that sort of thing never causes wood. He looked up in time to see Lee glance away and realized the actor had seen him spill his food. Tonys brain immediately threw discretion to the wind and added Lee Nicholas to warm, wet, and pressure. Someone spoke to CB?

 Peter called him about ten minutes ago. If Adam noticed the strain in Tonys voice, he ignored it. Why?

 No reason. It was just going to make getting through Ruth to the boss a lot harder. Hang on; he was going to the studio. Problem solved. While CB had what could charitably be referred to as a slammed door policy, it was always easier to speak to him in person. Whereeasier was generously defined astaking your life in your hands.

 Finish eating first.

 Right. Thanks. Might as well since standing up wasnt currently an option.



 CBs not here right now.

 And the kids Im supposed to pick up?

 Amy glanced around the crowded production office as though the pair of child actors might be hiding in and among the gray laminate desks or the stacks of office supplies. No sign of them.

 Great. Why doesnt Wanda drive them over when they get here?

 Because the collate function on the photocopiers broken again and Wandas helping Ruth with some remedial stapling in the kitchen.

 Tony half turned following Amys gesture and realized that the background thudding was not in fact the sound of a hammer falling but instead the distinctive slam-crunch of a staple forced through one too many sheets of paper. If hed been paying more attention, the intermittent profanity would have given it away. So Im supposed to just hang around here, he sighed. Caught sight of Amys expression. No offense.

 Taken anyway. Artificially dark brows drew in as she scowled up at him. Ive half a mind not to tell you what Ive discovered.

 If its about Brenda and Lee; Lee already confirmed it.

 No. Knew it. You should see the graffiti in the womens can. What is it about wardrobe assistants anyway? Didnt Mason boing the last one?

 Yeah. Andboing ?

 She snorted. Perfectly valid euphemism. The house is haunted.

 It took him a moment to separate the sentences.

 Caulfield House?

 Yes.

 Is haunted?

 Yes! Eyes gleaming under magenta bangs, she all but bounced in place. Isnt that totally cool?

 The boy-who-was-younger was in a loose white shirt. Well, white except for the splashes of what had to be bloodhad to be because a huge triangular cut in the right side of his neck looked as though it just missed decapitating him. The girl-whod-been-talking-to-Lee was wearing a summer dress, one strap torn free, the whole fitted bodice as well as her bare shoulders stained a deep crimson. She was also short the top left quarter of her headher face missing along the nose and out one cheekbone, her left eye completely gone.

 Not really, no.

 She snorted. You know what your problem is? You have no imagination! No connection to a world beyond the day-to-day. This time she did bounce. These are real ghosts, Tony!

 About to argue that there were no such things as real ghosts, Tony suddenly realized that this conversation had nothing to do with him. That he didnt have to be careful about being involved with the weird lest someone trace that weirdness back to Henry, who was helpless and stakeable during the day. Old habits died hard. And weird was Amys middle name. How do you know Caulfield House is haunted, then? He propped one thigh on the corner of Amys desk.

 Duh, how do you think? I did a web search. Theres been sightings by hikers. Well, sighting, she amended reluctantly. A young man dressed in white standing in one of the second-floor windows.

 And there was that blood-running-cold feeling again. The bathroom window?

 Heavily kohled eyes widened. How did you know?

 Lucky guess. Most movies, the bathrooms haunted, he continued when Amy fixed him with a suspicious glare. You know, the whole body-in-the-bathtub thing.

 Well, these bodies arent in the bathtub, she snapped. Back in 1957, September twenty-sixth to be exact, Stephen and Cassandra Mills father freaked and attacked them with an ax. They died in the second-floor bathroom. Then he killed himself!

 How?

 Mollified by his interest, she leaned closer. With the same ax. She mimed embedding an ax into her own forehead.

 So it was entirely possible there was a third ghost.

 Or a fourth . . .

 Was there a baby, too?

 You mean . . . ? More mimed chopping. When he nodded, she sat back and shrugged. It didnt mention a baby on the web site. Why?

 No reason.

 Yeah, right. Like I tell you about a double murder/suicide and you ask about a baby for no reason. Spill.

 I dont. . .

 Leaning forward again, she dropped her voice below eavesdropping levels. Spill or I tell everyone in the office what you told me about you and Zev on Wreck Beach.

 He glanced over his shoulder at the door leading to post production, half expecting the music director to walk through on cue. When he didnt, Tony locked eyes with Amy and matched her volume. You wouldnt do that because you wouldnt want to upset Zev.

 Hey, as I recall our Zev comes off pretty good in this story. Youre the one who stars as the hormonally challenged geek.

 Vowing, not for the first time, never to go drinking with Amy again, Tony sighed. Unfortunately, hormonally challenged geek was a fairly accurate description and he didnt doubt for a moment that Amy would follow through on the threat. All right, you win. I was standing at the top of the main stairs and I thought I heard a baby cry.

 Too cool.

 Not really.

 Really. Throwing her weight back in her chair, she steepled black-and-magenta-tipped fingers together and beamed. The beaming was freaking Tony out just a bit. Amy wasnt usually the beaming type. Scowling, frowning, glowering, yes. Beaming, no. Its possible that the baby is Cassandra, that she isnt able to manifest the way Stephen does and this throwback to her infancy is all she can manage.

 What the hell are you talking about?

 Ectoplasmic manifestations. Ghosts, you moron! She took a long, almost triumphant swallow from her coffee mug and exchanged it for the receiver as the phone rang. CB Productions. What? Hang on a sec. Swiveling her chair around, she bellowed toward the closed bull pen door: Billy, its your mother. Something about water getting into your comic collection! There was a faint scream from one of the writers. Amy listened for a few seconds, then hung up the phone. Apparently, his room in the basement flooded. Anyway, the ghosts . . . Stephen was a year younger, so hell be stronger. You get points for hearing the babyprovided you heard what you thought you heard but I suppose its too much to ask if youve seen the young man in white?

 You suppose right. Which, technically, wasnt even a lie. Idont suppose youd be willing to do a little more research on the house? You know, just in case.

 In case of what? The kind of oh, no, ghosts are dangerous crap that shows up in bad scripts? Ghosts are unhappy spirits caught between this life and the next. They cant hurt you, you big wuss.

 Someone had scooped a finger of wet paint off the wall of the second-floor bathroom and applied it to Lees ass. Granted, no one had gotten hurt, but that did prove they could manifest physically. And physical manifestation wasnt good.

 I mean, its not like theyre poltergeists, Amy continued. Theyre not throwing things or damaging anything or youd know about them by now. Theyre lost and confused and probably lonely. They might not even know theyre dead.

 They knew. Their reaction to him seeing past the glamour had proved that.

 Were shooting in the second-floor bathroom this afternoon.

 So? Amy snorted. Its not like theyll show up on film, and I very much doubt that anyone who works here is sensitive enough to . . . CB Productions, can I help you?

 If they didnt show up on film and he was the only one who could see them . . . No wait, Lee had seen them. Except, Lee hadnt seen them as they were. Did that matter? No. None of this mattered. Bottom line; haunted houses were not a good thing, and he was only a PA; he had to talk to the . . .

 Daddy! Ashley shoved me!

 For the second time that day, Tony felt his blood run cold. He matched Amys terrified gaze with one of his own, she hung up the phone, and together they turned toward the outside door.

 I did not, you little liar!

 Did! You just want to get to Mason!

 Hes not even here, Cheese!

 Zitface!

 Girls, try to remember this is a place of business.

 And Zitface wants to do business with Mason! Making kissing noises, a girl of about eight backed into the office both hands raised to ward off the attack of a slightly older girl.

 Following them was Chester Bane. The six-foot-four, ex-offensive tackle, who ran every aspect of CB Productions with an iron fist and a bellicose nature to back it up, looked a little desperate. Tony didnt blame him. Ashley and Briannas mother, CBs second wife, had convinced the girls that Daddy owed them big time for the divorce and they, in turn, had convinced CB. As a result, the man who had once made an opposing quarterback wet himself in fear could deny his daughters nothing. On the rare days they came to the studio, production went right down the toilet. Once or twice other, less easily recovered things went down the toilet as well.

 They must be here because were on location.

 Wait a minute.

 He was supposed to be picking up the two kids playing the ghosts.

 God, no.

 As Ashley chased a screaming Brianna through the door leading to the dressing rooms, CB lifted his massive head and met Tonys eyes. Youre driving them to the house, are you? Good.

 So much for the power of prayer. Uh, Boss . . .

 I promised them they could be on the show. Theyre thrilled about it. His expression lightened slightly. Unfortunately, I have paperwork to catch up on. The sound of distant crashes propelled him toward his office. Youll be the supervising adult of record. Amy has the paperwork. See that they have a good time.

 Boss, I have to talk to you! About the house!

 CB paused in the doorway and considered him for a long moment while Tony tried to make the words metaphysical emergency appear somewhere in his expression. Finally, as the office lights flickered and faint shrieks of girlish laughter lifted the hair on the back of Tonys neck, he sighed, Keep it short, before disappearing into his office.

 Amy snagged Tonys arm as he moved to follow. Youre not going to tell him about the ghosts, are you? Hell think youre nuts and youll still have to drive the girls to the set!

 He pulled his arm free. Ghosts on web sites were one thing. Ghosts in the drawing room talking to the actors were something else again. Hopefully. You just dont want the terror twins to stay here.

 Well, duh! They winced in tandem at the distinctive sound of a clothes rack hitting the floor. I should never have told you about the ghosts.



 It wouldnt have mattered, but Amy had no way of knowing that. Although given what was at stake, even if he hadnt seen Stephen and Cassandra large as life and twice as dead, hed have used Amys information and tried to convince CB they were real.

 CBs office matched him in size and, like him, was functional rather than ornate. The single fish in the saltwater tank glared out at Tony as he passed. The fish had been a recent present from CBs lawyer and the day it was put into the tank it ate the three smaller fish still struggling to live in the murky wateran omen of Biblical proportions as far as Tony was concerned. He paused about a meter from the desk, took a deep breath, and decided to get right to the point.

 Caulfield House is haunted.

 So Amy informed me first thing this morning. Youre wasting my time, Mr. Foster.

 Yeah, Amy told me, too, but she didnt need to. I saw themthe ghosts.

 You saw them? When Tony nodded, CB laid both massive hands on his desk and leaned forward. Is this because of. . . what you could be?

 The wizard thing? No. Maybe. I dont know. On second thought. Probably. Point is, he added hurriedly as CBs eyes began to narrow, I saw them. Stephen and Cassandra, murdered back in 57 standing in the drawing room talking to Lee.

 Mr. Nicholas saw them as well?

 Yeah, but he didnt know they were dead.

 How did you . . . ?

 Bits of them were missing.

 And Mr. Nicholas didnt notice this?

 He wasnt seeing them the way I was. And I saw Stephen standing in the second-floor bathroom window.

 Inthe window?

 Well, you know, behind the window. I saw him from the front lawn.

 So the houseis haunted?

 Yes.

 Well. Thank you for keeping me in the loop, Mr. Foster. He glanced down at the Rolex surrounding one huge wrist. Id like both scenes the girls are in shot this afternoon, so youd best get moving. You may tell Peter I wont be available to take his calls.

 Given that Peter had been in a good mood when Tonyd left the shoot, Peter didnt know about the girls. Hed be calling, that was a certainty. And beside the point. Boss, I dont think you understand. Haunted houses are dangerous.

 In what way?

 He was kidding, right? In the dead-people-walking-around way! People die in them.

 No, peoplehave died in them. Not the same thing. Have you any reason for your fear or are you basing your theory on bad movies and the world according to Stephen King? Have these ghosts done anything that might be considered threatening?

 They put paint on Lees tux.

 Annoying, Mr. Foster, not threatening. Anything else?

 Ghosts stay around for a reason. Usually because theyre pissed off about something.

 Like being murdered?

 Yeah, like being murdered. And they want vengeance.

 So they put paint on Mr. Nicholas tux?

 Yes! No. That wasnt vengeance, that was. . . I dont know what that was, but the point is we cant keep shooting in a haunted house.

 Because somethingmight happen?

 Yes.

 You might get hit every time you cross the street. Do you spend the rest of your life standing on the sidewalk?

 Well, no, but. . .

 Ive paid for the use of this house until the end of the week. If you have nothing substantial to base your fears on . . . CB waited pointedly until Tony shook his head. . . . I will not disrupt my shooting schedule because you have a bad feeling and dead people are hanging about the set.

 Was the man listening to himself? Having dead people hanging about the set isnt normal!

 Normal? His lip curled. Being beaten in the ratings by half a dozen so-called real people eating earthworms isnt normal, Mr. Foster. And dead people have got to be less trouble than one of Masons ridiculous fan clubs.

 Tony had to admit that was valid. One last card to play. Your daughters . . .

 Are looking forward to this and I will not disappoint them. Theyve spoken of nothing else for the last ten days.

 But . . .

 I willnot disappoint them. Do I make myself clear?

 Crystal. Hed rather risk his daughters lives than their wrath. Or at least hed rather risk his daughters being stroked with paint than their wrath and Tony had to admit he could understand where the boss was coming from with that. Maybe he had overreacted.

 Once you turn to the weird side, forever will it dominate your destiny.

 So the house is haunted. If Im the only one who knows, does it matter?

 Is there anything else, Mr. Foster?

 Apparently not. No, sir. Ill just get the girls.

 The girls were standing by the front door, eyes wide and locked on Amy. Who was on the phone. Nothing unusual about that.

 Why dont you two wait for me by my car; Ill be right out.

 They nodded and ran.

 What did you do to them? he demanded as Amy hung up. And can you teach it to me.

 I merely looked at them like this . . .

 Thats pretty damned scary on its own.

 . . . and told them if they didnt get their grubby hands off my phone Id put a spell on them so that theyd wet the bed at every sleepover they went on for the rest of their lives.

 Checking for eavesdroppers, Tony leaned closer. Can you really do that?

 Amy sighed. Im not surprised Zev dumped you. You are such a geek sometimes.

 Right. Of course she couldnt. He couldnt and he was the wizard. In training. In a not-very-enthusiastic-about-the-whole-thing kind of way. Although if it meant easier handling of CBs daughters, it might not hurt to check the more advanced lessons on the laptop.

 Tony?

 Sorry. Ghosts, girls, Im just a little freaked. Can you call Peter and give him a heads up?

 Oh. My. God. He doesnt know?

 Before Tony could answer, a familiar horn sounded in the parking lot. And kept sounding. Throwing a terse, He doesnt know! over his shoulder, Tony started to run. How the hell were they hitting the horn? His car had been locked.

 Chapter Four

 ?? ?

 WITH THE PRETEEN flavor of the month pounding out of his speakers, and a vaguely familiar blue sedan in his parking spot, Tony pulled in at the end of the line of cars and shut off the engine. All right, were walking from here.

 Ashley, whod grabbed the front seat by ignoring screams of wrath and shoving her younger and smaller sister into the back, opened her door, stared down at the ground, and closed her door again. Its muddy.

 Yeah, so? Hands braced on either side of the doorframe, Tony leaned back into the car reminding himself that these were his boss daughters and the level of profanity had to stay low. Given the delay at the office and an unavoidable side trip for ice cream on the way back to the locationunavoidable if hed wanted to retain even minimal hearingthey were running embarrassingly late. Its stopped raining.

 You cant make me walk in the mud. Ill tell my dad. Drive me right to the house.

 I cant.

 Ashes is afraid shell get all dirty and then Masonll see shes really a pig, Brianna scoffed from the back. Oink, oink, oink, oink, oink.

 Drop dead, Cheese!

 Make me, Zitface!

 Look, walk in the mud, then blame me when you get dirty, Tony broke in before the insults could escalate. Again. Mason doesnt much like me anyway, and itll give you two something to talk about.

 Ashley stared at him for a long moment, brown eyes narrowed. Fine.

 Fine, Brianna echoed mockingly.

 With the dignity of eleven years, Ashley ignored her, scooped up her backpack, and got out of the car.

 As Tony locked up, Brianna bounded down the road to the path.

 Are you just going to let her do that? Ashley demanded. She could get lost!

 The ruts to the house are a foot deep. I doubt it.

 You have a stupid car. He shortened his stride as she fell into step beside him. My mom has a better car. My moms new boyfriend has three better cars. Your car looks like something puked on it.

 Something did. When she turned a disbelieving face toward him, he added, Old drunk guy outside my building last night. Most of it washed off in the rain.

 Eww! That is like totally the grossest thing Ive ever heard.

 Tony felt kind of smug about that until he remembered he wasnt twelve. Hey, I hate to ask, but why do you call your sister Cheese?

 Dun. Brianna. Bri. Cheese. She shot him a disapproving glare that made her look disconcertingly like her father. I thought gay guys knew all about cheese.

 I mustve missed that part in the manual.

 You got a manual?

 A shriek from Brianna kept him from having to answer.Memo to self: facetious comments bad idea. He jogged ahead to find the younger girl balanced on one foot, her other foot bare, the sandal nowhere to be seen.

 The stupid mud ate my shoe! she announced, grabbing a handful of his T-shirt. Youve got to carry me.

 He grabbed her backpack before it could hit the ground and settled it back onto her shoulder. Walk barefoot.

 Mom says you catch stuff when you walk barefoot.

 Yeah, on sidewalks. Not here. This is a park.

 Its a driveway! For an eight year old, she excelled at implyingyou moron with tone of voice.

 We dont have time for this! Unfortunately, Amys expression didnt seem to work when it wasnt on Amys face. Fine. Ill carry you. If CB wanted the girls to finish up in one afternoonand given his personal feelings on the matter, Tony was willing to bet that everyone else involved wanted the same thingthey had to haul ass. He moved around in front of her and squatted slightly. Climb on my back.

 For a skinny kid, she wasnt light. He hooked his hands under her bare knees and straightened.

 You better find my sandal. My dad will fire you if you lose my sandal.

 No, he wont.

 Wanna bet?

 Not really. Ashley, could you . . .

 Bite me. Im so not digging in mud for . . . oh, here it is. To his surprise, she shoved one finger under the strap and dragged it out of the thick, black dirt. You owe me. You owe me big.

 Fine. I owe you. Hiding a shudder at the thought of what she might demand to even the odds, he jerked his head toward the house. Now can we walk?

 With Brianna bouncing on his kidneys and Ashley keeping up a running commentary of his shortcomings, the lane into the house seemed a lot longer than it had at 7:30. As they finally drew even with the last of the trucks, two familiar figures stepped out into their path.

 Well, well, Mr. Foster. RCMP Constable Jack Elson smiled and waved a set of sides in a sarcastic salute. Small world, isnt it?

 Elson and his partner, RCMP Special Constable Geetha Danvers, had been the investigating officers during the series of suspicious deaths that had occurred at CB Productions back in the spring. Although natural causes with a heavy subtext of unlucky coincidence made up the official conclusion, Jack Elson had been convinced there was something else going on and hed been determined to get to the bottom of things. Unfortunately, since the something else had involved homicidal shadows from another reality, hed been destined to disappointment.

 Because Tony had been instrumental in defeating the Shadowlord, hed been at the center of the RCMPs investigation. With no one to blame for the nagging sense of justice not quite done, Constable Elson had made his presence felt at CB Productions whenever time allowedwith Tony at the top of his shit list closely followed by CB himself, and then the rest of his employees in no particular order.

 Constable Danvers, whod been considerably more sanguine about the case from the beginning, accompanied her partner to the studio wearing an expression that clearly said, Im only indulging you in this because hanging around a television show is kind of cool.

 So we saw the cars out on the road and wandered down to see if the paperwork was in order. During his too jovial explanation, Elson didnt do anything as obvious as block Tonys path but he stood in such a way that it would be difficult to get around him. Especially carrying an eight year old. Tony waited silently. First rule of dealing with a suspicious copgive them nothing new to work with. And who are these young ladies?

 Second ruleanswer questions promptly and politely. And the corollarylie if necessary. Theyre the boss daughters.

 Visiting the set? Danvers asked, looking honestly interested.

 Were not visiting, Ashley informed her disdainfully. Were ghosts.

 Really? Elson smiled down at Tony in a way that made him think of handcuffs. And not in a fun way either. You wouldnt be contravening child labor laws would you?

 Before Tony could answer, Brianna lifted her chin out of the indentation shed dug in his right shoulder, pointed a skinny arm toward Burnabys finest, and declared, I can see a booger in your nose.

 Why dont you two go find Peter? Tony suggested easing Brianna to the ground.

 Shrieking Peter! Peter! Peter! she shoved her foot into her muddy sandal and raced after her sister whod gotten a three Peter head start.

 As the directors name died down in the distance, Tony had a strong suspicion it was a suggestion that would come back to haunt him. And speaking of haunting . . .

 The police had access to information the general public did not. Informationfinding it, having it, passing it along in the way that would do him the most goodhad always been Tonys preferred coin. Given that hed survived everything an increasingly skewed world had thrown at him . . .

 Brianna! No! Tinas distant protest had a hint of homicide in it.

 . . . so far, maybe it wouldnt hurt to do a bit of digging now.

 Great house, eh? He fixed both officers with his bestfine, you want to stand there, then Im going to talk expression. I guess you guys are on top of that whole double murder suicide thing.

 In the house? This house?

 He let himself look smug as he repeated what Amy had told him.

 Constable Elson rolled his eyes. A little before our time.

 Memory took him to the top of the stairs and a baby crying. So nothing more recent? He snapped back to himself in time to see them both staring.

 Constable Danvers raised a questioning brow. Recent?

 Maybe hes been hearing things. When Tony scowled, Elson broke out laughing. Maybe he thinks its haunted. Waving his hands in the accepted gesture forooooooo, spooky he headed for the road. Come on, Dee. Im so scared. Lets get out of here in case Raymond whats-his-fang has called up more of his dark brethren.

 Rolling her eyes not entirely unsympathetically in Tonys direction, Danvers stepped onto the grass at the edge of the drive and followed her partner.

 Although he would rather have had an answer to his question, Tony had to admit that giving Constable Elson an exit line he couldnt resist using worked, too. Probably has all four seasons ofDue South on DVD, he muttered as he rounded the trailer and nearly slammed into Brenda. She looked terrified.

 And it begins . . .

 Ashley and Brianna? Eyes wide, she grabbed a handful of his T-shirt. Please tell me the ghosts arent being played by Ashley and Brianna?

 Okay, not what hed expected but valid terror nevertheless. Wish I could.

 Have you ever tried to dress those two? Id rather put pantyhose on a monkey!

 And thank you for that image.

 Tony, this is serious. Does Peter know?

 They winced in unison at the crash from inside. Well, Amy was going to call him. A second, louder crash. He does now.



 Shes staring at me again.

 I think the word youre looking for isnt again, its still, Lee pointed out, shifting to the right so that Ashley could have a clearer line of sight. The only time shes stopped staring at you since she arrived was when she was in wardrobe.

 Mason shuffled left, putting his costars tuxedo-clad shoulders between him and the girl. Shes starting to creep me out. I mean, I know what to do when older girls stare at me like that, but shes eleven!

 So ignore her.

 Easy to say.

 Ashley, wearing her turn-of-the-century costume, sat in Peters chair, stroking the caretakers catallowed back on the set when the girls had screamed down the possibility of its exclusionher eyes locked on Mason, her bare feet swinging in an inexplicably ominous rhythm. When he moved, she moved. Or she moved whatever currently blocked her line of sight.

 In the interest of not having his crew ordered around and his schedule completely disrupted, Peter had told Mason to remain visible.

 Why cant I just lock myself in my dressing room? Mason had demanded.

 Do you seriously think that would stop her? Peterd asked him. You can suit yourself, but if I were you, Id stay out where there are witnesses.

 In all the time hed been working onDarkest Night, Tony had never seen Mason at a loss for words. Even during an incident with the wardrobe assistant, hed managed a fairly articulate,Get the hell out and tell Peter Ill be there in twenty minutes.  This time, however, hed opened his mouth, closed it again, and latched on to Lee like the other actor was his new best friend.

 Lee clearly found the whole thing amusing.

 Brianna!

 Everyone, cast and crew, turned toward the door as Brenda ran into the foyer.

 Sliding to a stop just over the threshold, she swept a wild gaze over the assembled men and women. Have you seen Brianna?

 Peter paled. Dont tell me youve lost her!

 Brenda waved the apron she held like a calico flag of surrender. I only took my eyes off her for a second! When I turned around, she was gone! I thought I saw her running toward the house!

 Tony!

 Tony felt his heart skip a beat as the director and everyone else turned to stare at him. Had the house claimed its first victim?At least I warned CB. He cant blame me for this. Right. Just like no one blamed Bennifer whenGigli tanked.

 You brought them, Peter continued grimly. You find her.

 He brought them? Like he had a choice?

 I think we should divide up into search parties, Ashley announced before Tony managed to think of something to say. She stood, crossed to Masons side, and took hold of his sleeve. Groups of two, I think. Ill go with Mason.

 No. Mason managed half a step back before he realized Ashley was moving right along with him. You heard Peter, Tony brought them! Brought you. Hes responsible. Adult guardian of record, isnt he? Let Tony do his job. Let Tony find her.

 Tonys a dork, Ashley scoffed.

 Tony caught the words, Am not! behind his teeth.Because that would be mature. I wouldnt know where to start, he pointed out in what he thought was a fairly calm voice given the circumstances.

 From the back of the house came the unmistakable scream of an angry cat.

 Start in the kitchen, Peter suggested dryly.



 I didnt mean to hurt it, Brianna protested, filling her mouth with cheese puffs and wiping her hand on her dress. It got right in my way and I stepped on its stupid tail! Do you think it hates me now?

 Picking up the bowl of cheese puffs to use as a lure, Tony backed away from the craft services table. I doubt it. Cats dont have very long memories. Considering how fast it had to have been motoring to get from the front hall to the kitchen, the odds of impact between cat and kid had to have been astronomical. Although considering this particular kid . . . As she reached for the bowl, he took another two steps. And another.

 I just wanted to look behind the door!

 What door? Almost out of the kitchen . . .

 That door!

 His hand throbbed. Thats just the basement, he said, trying his best to make it sound like the most boring place on Earth. And besides, the doors locked. Your father doesnt want us to go down there.

 She snorted, spraying bits of damp cheese puff and turned toward the forbidden. My father lets me go anywhere I want.

 Oh, yeah. That went well. In another minute shed be knee-deep in floodwater and old wiring.

 Tony? Have you fffffffffffst her?

 Depended. Define fffffffffffst. If it meantwanted to strangle , then that would be a big God, yes.

 That was Adam, he said as Brianna stared up at him through narrowed eyes. He says since youve been gone so long, Ashley says shell be the only ghost.

 Oh, no, she wont!

 Wow. If hed thought the cat could motor . . .

 Ashley dealt with the resulting tantrum by knocking her sister down and sitting on her until she cried uncle. Tony suspected he wasnt the only jealous adult in the room. Unfortunately, when it was over, the girls backed him into a corner while everyone else was suddenly busy setting up the shot. Since when did it take seven people to check a light meter?

 Inever said I wanted to be the only ghost!

 You told me she said that!

 Imso telling my father on you!

 Ashley . . . Struck by inspiration, Tony bent forward and lowered his voice. . . . Masons watching. Hell think youre acting like a little girl.

 Ashleys eyes widened, her mouth snapped shut, and gathering her dignity around her, she stalked back to Peters chair.

 Tony found Brianna staring up at him with reluctant admiration. Youre such a liar, she said. Gimme the cheese puffs.

 He hadnt realized he was still holding the bowl.

 Fortunately, the apron covered the accumulated orange stains on the dress.

 Why cheese puffs? Brenda asked as Peter placed the girls where he needed them. Why do they even have cheese puffs anyway?

 In general?

 No, specifically. Specifically here. Specifically where those two could get at them. Cheese puffs do not make historic stains!

 Tony patted her shoulder in a comforting way. Its not like were usually that big on historical accuracy.

 Spinning out from under his hand, she glared at him. I do my best!

 I just meant its not that important because the stains can be deleted in post.

 Thats not what you said.

 I know.

 They wouldnt wear the shoes and stockings.

 Barefoot works.

 You think?

 Sure. Why not. It was summer and it wasnt like they had an option. Suddenly certain he was being watched, Tony turned in time to see Lee look away.Figures. Not watching me. Watching Brenda.

 My lipsticks all gone! Had there been a second balcony, Ashleys voice would have carried beyond it. Shed clearly inherited her fathers vocal abilities. I cant act without new lipstick!

 Tony!

 Ears ringing, he headed out to the trailer to retrieve Everett.

 Thing was, when the girls actually settled down to work, they werent bad.

 Look up at Mason and Lee on the stairs and smile. A little less teeth, please Brianna. Good girl. Now look sad. Good, hold it. Try not to move your bodies, just change your expressions. Can you give me angry? Good work. Now thoughtful. Yes . . . up through the lashes is good, Ashley. Okay, girls, smile again . . .

 The crew held its collective breath as Peter banked as many expressions as possible, shooting cover shots and then close-ups. Tony wiped sweating palms on his jeans and scanned the entrance hall for ghosts. Were he an actual ghost and a television show was in his haunted house filmingfake ghosts, hed be showing up in the shot. Hed fade in slowly, so slowly, so subtly that hed be nearly opaque by the time they noticed him, and then when they did, at the inevitable screams greeting his gruesome appearance, hed disappear. Poof. A lot more effective than just popping in to say boo.



 Why cant I just appear behind the kids, say boo, and then disappear?

 Cassie rolled her remaining eye at her brother. Because were not supposed to be seen.

 But weve been seen.

 Not on purpose.

 Excuse me? Dressing up and pretending to be alive wasnt being seen on purpose?

 That was different; we were being seen as people. One finger picking at a bit of frayed wallpaper, she peered down the stairs at the television crew. Something feels . . .

 Wrong. So you said already. Stephen wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

 She reached up and absently set it back in place on his neck. Wrong. Familiar. I wish Graham was in the house, I need to talk to someone.

 Im someone.

 I know, love. But her gaze locked on the young man whod known what they were.



 Brianna screamed and dropped to the floor when the light blew, but Ashley stood her ground as bits of hot glass rained down from above, glaring at the smoking piece of equipment like she couldnt believe it was attempting to upstage her.

 Cut! Peters voice rose above the chaos. Is anyone hurt?

 No one was.

 Good. Thats all right, then; no ones hurt and Ive got what I need down here. He glanced around as though looking for a union steward or a representative from the governments workplace safety committee who might suggest he have a larger reaction. When neither presented themselves, the set of his shoulders visibly relaxed. If youre not needed in the bathroom, you can help clean this mess while the rest of us head to the second floor. Everett, Brenda, stay close. Tony, until Adam lets you know were ready for the girls, keep an eye on them.

 An eye? Oh, yeah, like that would be enough. Tony made his way over cables and through the sudden throng of arguing grips and electricians standing by the blown light to where CBs daughters were respectively drumming bare heels against the hardwood and staring at Mason. Before either of them could take off for parts unknown or declare they didnt want to go upstairs or announce they were telling their father about the light, he said, You two are good.

 No shit? Brianna asked from the floor.

 He crossed his heart. No shit.

 You dont have to sound so surprised about it, Ashley snorted, actually looking away from Mason long enough to roll her eyes in a disturbingly mature way at Tony. Our mom is an actress, you know.

 I know. Shed been a minor but reoccurring character in CBs first moderately successful seriesGhost Town.

 And she says our dad promised hed make her a star and then ruined her career so she made sure that that bitch Lydia Turrent got caught doing dope and that flushed the show down the toilet.

 Didnt know that, Tony thought as Ashley paused for breath.

 Did you like the way I fell? A small foot drove into his calf with considerable force. Im going to always doall my own stunts. Brianna held out her hand and allowed him to haul her upright. Im not afraid of nothing. The light going bangthat didnt really scare me.

 You probably made it blow up, her sister snorted.

 Didnt. And I didnt do that neither, she added as a cable box slid off the lower shelf of the video village and bounced back down the stairs.

 A passing electrician jerked to a stop, the transformer he was carrying nearly yanked out of his arms.

 Brianna stepped off the dangling cable. What?



 The second-floor bathroom had already been lit and a second camera was in place and ready to go. Although Peter hadnt been prepared for CBs children, hehad been prepared for children. Given that CB had made it quite clear they were to be used only this one afternoon, it was imperative to work as quickly as possible while they were on the set. Considering how long it often took between shots, the half-hour break between the front hall and the bathroom was up to pit standards at any NASCAR track in North America.

 As the camera feed was hooked up to the video village out in the hall, the director went over the scene with all four of his actorsMason standing as far from Ashley as close quarters allowed. All right, were going to do the girls taunting dance once with Mason and Lee in the shot and then the exact same thing with just the two of you pretending that Mason and Lee are in the shot. Then were going to do it again from the top with each of you individually so we can get close-ups, then well do it again from the top with the blood. And then remembering the age of his actors, he added heartily, But its not real blood.

 Oh, please, Ashley drawled, we know its not real. Were not stupid. Well, Im not stupid. The Cheese is a moron.

 Head cocked to one side, a stubby braid sticking straight up into the air, Brianna ignored her.

 Peter took a concerned step toward the younger girl. Brianna?

 She snorted and frowned up at him. Theres a baby crying.

 The silence that followed her announcement was so complete Tony could hear a car passing by on Deer Lake Road way out at the end of the lane. He could also hear a baby crying.

 I dont hear a baby. Peter glanced around at his crew, his gaze moving too fast to actually see any of them. No one else hears a baby. Statement, not question. They didnt have time for babies.

 I hear a baby! Her brows drew down into a familiar obstinate expression. In spite of a two-hundred-pound difference she looked frighteningly like her father. Im going to find it! Head down, she darted toward the door.

 Fortunately, maneuvering around the camera and Mouse and Kate slowed her down. Tony caught up at the door as she circled around Mouse and under the camera assistants outstretched arms and managed to keep her from getting out into the hall. Why dont I find it for you? Wheres the noise coming from?

 Her lower lip went out. Its not noise; its crying!

 Fine. Wheres the crying coming from?

 She stared up at him suspiciously. Tony could feel the rest of the crew holding their collective breath. Few things held up a shooting schedule like chasing an eight year old around a house the size of some third world countries. Finally, she raised one skinny arm and pointed toward the far end of the hall. That way.

 Yeah, that was where he heard it coming from, too.

 All right. You let Peter set the shot and check your levels. Ill go look and be back before the cameras rolling.

 Yeah, but youre a liar.

 Yeah, but you know Im a liar, so why would I lie to you?

 He held her gaze as she worked that outa trick Henryd taught him.

 The dominant personality maintains eye contactits one of the easiest ways to differentiate the hunter from the hunted.

 You mean when you dont have that whole teeth, biting, feeding thing to fall back on?

 I mean, I am not the only predator in the city.

 Uh, Earth to Henry; how the hell do you think I survived this lo . . . OW!

 After a long moment, Brianna nodded. You check. Then you dont lie.

 Deal.



 Reaching for the door handle, Tony realized that the door at the end of the hall had been divided in halflike the doors of fake farmhouse kitchens in margarine commercials. He could no longer hear the baby crying and since he couldnt hear it, he doubted that Brianna could. Given that she was safely back inside the huge bathroom being fussed over by both Brenda and Everett, he briefly considered lying about having checked.

 Except that hed more or less given her a promise and, staring at the door with the hair lifting off the back of his neck and a chill stroking icy fingers down his spine, he realized that this was neither the time nor place to break his word although he didnt knowwhy and that was definitely freaking him out.

 The brass door handle was very cold.

 With any luck, the room would be locked.

 Nope. No luck today.

 He expected a dramatic creak as he pushed it open, but the well-oiled hinges merely whispered something he didnt quite catch as he stepped over the threshold. The sky had grown overcast again, replacing the afternoon light with the soft drumming of rain against the windows. His right hand went back to the light switch, found it where it always was, and flicked the first little plastic tab up.

 Nothing happened.

 They werent actually using this space, so no one had replaced the thirty-year-old bulbs.

 Tony really wished he believed that.

 The air was colder than the air in the rest of the house and, considering the rest of the house had been comfortably cool in spite of television lighting, that was saying something. He could smell . . . pork chops?

 There was ambient light enough to see the wide border of primary colored racing cars just under the edge of the crown molding. Light enough to see the hammock strung across one corner and filled with stuffed animals so covered in dust they all appeared to be the same shade of gray. Light enough to see the crib. And the changing table. And that the safety grate had been removed from the fireplace in the far wall.

 Light enough to see the baby burning on the hearth. The border suggested it was a boy, but things had gotten too crispy to be certain. His stomach twisted and hed have puked except there were close to a dozen adults, two kids, and a camera between him and the nearest toilet.

 Besides, this was just a recording of something that had happened in the past. He wasnt watchingthis baby die and that helped. A little.

 Man, youd think Id he used to this kind of shit by now.

 He could hear it screaming again.

 Or he could hear something screaming.

 The room grew suddenly darker.

 Tony stepped back and slammed the door. Realized it had separated and hed only brought the bottom with him, realized the darkness had almost filled the room, spat out the necessary seven words in one long string of panicked syllables, andreached. The upper part of the door slammed shut.

 The half-dozen people standing around the video village were watching him as he turned.

 What the hell was that? Peter demanded sticking his head out of the bathroom.

 Wishing that the skin between his shoulder blades would just fucking stop creeping back and forth and up and down, Tony hurried away from the nursery. Air pressure, he explained, hands out and away from his sides, fingers spread in the classic not my fault gesture. It slammed before I could stop it.

 If wed been rolling . . .

 We werent, Tina broke in pointedly from behind the monitors, holding up her arm and tapping one finger on her watch.

 Peters eyes widened. Right. Well, dont just stand there. Haul ass and tell Brianna you didnt see a baby. CBs one afternoon only trumped doors slamming, production assistants making lame excuses, and mysterious crying.

 Lying in this house might be a bad idea, butin this case telling an eight year old the truth would be a worse one. Hurrying back to the bathroom, Tony really hoped that whatever weirdness was involved here would take that into account.



 He saw Karl.

 Thats unlikely, Cass, no ones ever seen Karl. They just hear Karl. Even Graham hasnt seen Karl.

 Andhe wasnt touching the upper part of the door when he closed it.

 Stephen stared at his sister and sighed deeply. Youve never missed that part of your brain before.

 What?

 He waved a hand toward the place the ax had hacked through her head. The living need to touch things to move them; hes alive, therefore he had to have touched the door. Q.E.D. And where are you going? he added hurrying to catch up.

 I need to see whats happening in the bathroom, she told him without turning.

 She was wafting, not walking, and that was never a good sign. Cassie was usually militant about them maintaining a semblance of physicality lest they forget how flesh worked he hadnt seen her so distracted for years. Memories drifted around him. They had no form and less substance, but he didnt like the way they made him feel, so he hung on to what he knew for certain. Graham told us to stay out of the bathroom while these people are using it.

 Itsour room.

 Well, yeah, but Graham said . . .

 Graham doesnt know whats going on in here.

 Of course not, hes just the caretaker, he couldnt possibly . . . Cass! He sighed again, slipped through a bit of the camera operator, and followed her in under the lights.



 But I want Mason to stay! Ashleys protest carried easily over the ambient noise of Mason and Lee pushing past various crew members to emerge out into the hall. Hes my motivation!

 There isnt room. Peters voice had reached the preternaturally calm stage that seemed to suggest an imminent nervous breakdownits tonal range so limited it sounded as though it had been Botoxed. Besides, hes just out in the hall, watching you on the monitors.

 To Tonys surprise, Mason, whod been heading to his dressing room, stopped, sighed, and returned. Since the words team player and Mason Reed had never appeared together previously, the crew and his costar stared at him in some confusion.

 If we dont finish today, he muttered, theyll be back.

 Eyes widened and several heads nodded sagely, reassured that Masons motivations remained vested self-interest.

 Lee clapped him on the shoulder and murmured, Greater love. Ill go get you a coffee.

 She isnot in love with me, Mason growled, looking a little panicked.

 Its a quote, big guy. Ill be back in a minute, he added to Adam as he turned. Peter wont even know Im gone.

 The 1AD shrugged. Just be back when he needs you.

 I need you . . . Peters direction drifted out into the hall. . . . to dance around in that circle a few more times pretending that Mason and Lee are still. . . Ashley, dont turn on the water. Brianna! Dont touch . . .

 All things considered, the softphzt was vaguely anticlimactic.

 Standing behind Sorges left shoulder where hed have a good view of both monitors, the gaffer frowned. Sounded like a halo lamp going. Im starting to think the lines in this house are seriously fucked. We should bring in a second generator.

 And getting CB to agree? Sorge snorted. Bon chance.

 Tony opened his mouth to say it wasnt the lines it was the house and then closed it again. His day was already crap; he didnt need to add the ridicule that would follow any explanation of ax-murdered extras or rotisserie babies. No, better just to stay quiet and right where he was, surrounded by people who wouldnt know a metaphysical phenomenon if it bit them on the ass. Almost literally in Tinas case although the specific piece of anatomy had been higher up.

 Malcolm! Adam!

 The gaffer and the 1AD headed for the bathroom.

 Everett!

 Its starting to be like a fraternity prank in there, Tina snickered as the makeup artist forced his way through the crowd in the doorway using his case like a battering ram. How many people can you fit in one bathroom.

 Tony!

 Hopefully one more.

 He squeezed past the cameraextra careful while squeezing past Mouse. Mouse had been shadow-held back in the spring and while under the influence had first locked lips and then worked him over with fists the size of small hams. Theoretically, Mouselike the other shadow-heldremembered none of his time possessed, but once or twice Tony had noticed him staring and the possibility that some lingering memories remained had made him fanatical about giving the much larger man his space.

 With any luck he remembered the beating and not the tonsil hockey; given Mouses background the beating, at least, had been in character.

 Fortunately, although Kate had also been shadow-held, their interaction during that time had been minimal. If she muttered something rude under her breath as he shuffled by her, it had nothing to do with the metaphysical and everything to do with Tony being one of the few people around who had less influence on the show than she did.

 The bathroom was definitely crowded. The girls were sitting on the edge of the tub being powdered although they didnt seem to need it. Actually, given the number of bodies and amount of equipment, it was strangely cool.

 The nursery had been cool.

 Oh fucking great. . .

 The girls, Everett, Peter, Adam, Malcolm, Mouse, Kate, one of the electriciansTony wasnt sure of his name. Nothing and no one in the room who shouldnt be there. Then he glanced in the mirror and saw the two half-dressed, bloody teenagers flickering in and out of focus.

 He didnt quite gasp when Adam grabbed his arm. Tony, the battery in my radios gone tits-up again. Go drop it in the charger and bring me a new one.

 Sure. Not a problem. Happy to get the hell off the second floor.

 Clutching the battery, he pushed his way out into the hall and headed for the back stairs. The main stairs were just a little too close to the nursery. Of course, the back stairs were right across the hall from Masons bathroom and the crying shadow crouched by the shower stall, but at this point, ghosts that merely rocked and cried were definitely the lesser of two or three or even four evils.

 No. Dont even think evil. Dont give anything ideas.

 He opened the stairwell door to be greeted by the same softer er er er hed heard earlier from the kitchen. From here, he could tell that it was actually coming from the third floor.Oh, yeah, like Im stupid enough to look up.

 An icy draft pushed him down the first few steps. The light started to dim. He moved a little faster. Missed his footing on the steep, uneven stairs. Started to fall. His feet sliding off every second or third step, his hands desperately grabbing for a guardrail that didnt exist, he plunged toward the kitchen, crashing against the bottom door which flew open. The impact slowed him a little but not enough for him to catch his balance and his out-of-control descent continued until he slammed into a warm and yielding barrier.

 Unfortunately, yielding enough he took it with him to the floor.

 Heart pounding, fighting to get enough air into his lungs, his body saidfamiliar before his brain caught up. No mistaking the flesh sprawled beneath him. Man. Young man. Good shape. Then his brain reengaged. Young man in good shape wearing a tuxedo . . . he lifted his head off the snowy white expanse of dress shirt to see the bottom of Lees chin. Then the rest of Lees face as the actor lifted his head and shook it once as though to settle his brain back into place. The green eyes focused.

 Tony?

 Yeah. One of his legs was down between the actors thighs, their position a parody of intimacy. He was a little too shaken up to move, muscles doing a fairly accurate imitation of cooked spaghetti as the adrenaline left his system. No way Lee could know that, though, and he half expected the other man to heave him across the room. Didnt happen.Hes probably winded, too. You okay?

 I think so. Lee shifted slightly and Tony thanked any gods who might be listening for that whole cooked spaghetti muscle thing. You?

 Him what? A half frown up at him and he abruptly remembered. Yeah. Im good. Notgood good, he added hurriedly in case Lee started thinking he was enjoying this too much. Just not hurt good. He had a strong suspicion he was making less than no sense.

 What happened?

 I fell. Down the stairs.

 From this angle, Lees smile was nearly blinding. A warm hand closed around Tonys bicep. No shit.

 Am I interrupting?

 And there was the expected, albeit delayed, heave. Both men were on their feet fast enough to reassure any onlooker that neither had been damaged by the collision. Except that the only onlooker had arrived after the collision.

 Zev! Tony ran a hand back through his hair, and flashed a smile he knew was too wide, too hearty, and too guilty at CB Productions music director and his most recent ex. I uh, fell down the stairs and Lee was there at the bottom and I slammed right into him. He was just . . . I mean, he cushioned my fall.

 So I saw. A white crescent flashed for an instant in the shadows of Zevs dark beard although his expression remained no more than neutrally concerned. You guys all right?

 Yeah. Lucky, eh?

 Very. Nice catch, Lee.

 Sure. His face flushedalthough that could have been from either sudden change in position, going down or coming upLee picked two large yellow melmac mugs of coffee off the kitchen table. You guys probably want to . . . uh, you know, talk and Ive got to get one of these up to Mason.

 Tony took a step toward him, hand outstretched, and stopped as the flush deepened. Youve got dust on the back of your tux.

 No problem. Brendas dancing attendance on the girls. She can get it. He turned toward the stairs, paused, and visibly changed his mind. Seems safer to use the other set.

 As Lee left the kitchen, Tony spotted Adams battery flung out of his hand on impactover by the sink. When he straightened, battery back in hand, he found Zev staring at him, dark brows almost to his hairline. What?

 You fell down the stairs?

 Yeah . . .

 And Lee just happened to be there to catch you?

 Yeah.

 And having saved you, he sank to the floor with you cradled tenderly in his arms.

 It wasnt like that!

 Zev snickered. Looked like that.

 Tony rolled his eyes and pushed past the other man, heading for the butlers pantry and the battery chargers. On the bright side, of all the people who could have walked in on him and Lee in a vaguely compromising position, Zev was the least likely to blow it out of proportion. On the other hand, given their history, Zev was the most likely to tease him unmercifully about it, so hed just nip that in the bud right now. I hit him pretty hard, so it wasnt so much sinking to the floor as being slammed into the floor and he wasnt cradling me tenderly or any other waybits of me were imbedded in his ribs.

 Looked like you were happy there.

 Not much he could say to that.

 Looked like he was happy to have you there.

 Youre delusional. Since he was there, he changed his own battery and tossed the rest of the fully charged into a box.

 Hand shoved in the front pockets of his black jeans, Zev shrugged, the backpack slung over one shoulder riding up and down with the motion. Im just saying he looked like a man ready for a six-pack.

 What?

 Whats the difference between a straight man and a bi. . .

 Tony sighed and held up a hand. Okay. I remember the joke. I should never have mentioned that whole crush thing.

 Since we were together at the time, it did seem a bit unnecessary. When Tony turned a worried face toward him, Zev grinned. Because you know, Im blind and stupid and would never have noticed on my own even if Amy hadnt discussed it at length.

 Bite me.

 Sorry. You gave that option up.

 You dumped me!

 Oh, yeah. Nevertheless, biting remains off the agenda.

 Back in the kitchen, Tony glanced up the back stairs and, much like Lee had, turned and headed for the main hall, Zev falling into step beside him. So, unless you dropped by to taunt me with my relationship mistakes, whyare you here?

 Ambient noise.

 What?

 Im going to play some Tchaikovsky in the foyer and record it, then figure out how the dimensions of the space change the sound. I may be able to use the minor distortions when I score the episode.

 Tchaikovsky?

 Onegin.

 Who?

 Ballet based on a novel by Pushkin.

 Hobbit?

 Russian.

 CBs idea?

 Your lack of confidence in my ability to make musical choices is why were no longer together.

 I thought it was my lack of being Jewish?

 Minor reason.

 Or my inability to understand what you see in Richard Dean Anderson.

 Much larger reason. Grinning, Zev slid the backpack off his shoulder and set it on the floor by the lighting rig in the entrance hall. Dont you have production assisting to do?

 He did. Adam was still without a battery, although given the radio reception and the fact that most of the crew was standing about six feet away from him, it wasnt likely he could be feeling the loss. You want to go for a beer after work?

 The music director glanced at his watch. Its just past six. Technically, Im after work so it depends on what time you finish up.

 CB said hed be by to pick the girls up at eight.

 Zev winced at the reminder of the episodes guest stars. Theyre safely upstairs, right?

 A crash from the second floor answered before Tony could.



 Why are they eating?

 What?

 Theyre eating soup in cups. Why are they eating and not leaving? I want my room back. This isour space. Stephen watched his sister pacing, flickering even to his sight as she moved through people and equipment and he added, more to himself than to her, Youll be fine once theyre gone. Youll see.



 So, I just spoke to your father and he says he cant pick you up for a while, so you can stay and finish the scene if thats what you want to do. Or Tony can drive you back to the studio.

 Ashley, her gaze locked on Mason, nodded.

 You want to stay?

 Brianna spread her arms and whirled up and down the hall, crashing into people and equipment. I like being a ghost.



 The red splatters were very bright against the hard gloss of the bathroom walls. Cassie touched one finger to the wall and then to the slightly darker splatter on the shoulder of one of the little girls. Faces, clothes, hair, both children were dripping with red. One of them kept licking it off her hand.

 Red.

 Some kind of syrup.

 Red as . . .

 She looked down at the crimson moisture on her fingertip. Stephen, I remember. Its about the blood . . .

 Chapter Five

 ?? ?

 BRENDA HAD DONE more than remove the dust from Lees tux; when Tony found them tucked behind an open door, she seemed to be taking a good shot at removing his fillings with her tongue. There was enough visible movement happening in his cheeks, he looked like he had a pair of gerbils making out in his mouth.

 Back in the butlers pantry, Tony jammed dead batteries into the chargers with more force than was strictly necessary. Hey, Lee could play tonsil hockey with whoever he wanted. He was an adult, Brenda was an adult; they had history and so what if Lee had told him earlier that history had been a mistakenothing like an accidental cuddle with another man to make a straight boy run off and prove his heterosexuality.

 He just wished Lee hadnt been so stereotypical.

 Oh, no! Gay cooties! Must wash them away with girl spit!

 Fuck it.

 Man, whats that battery ever done to you? Ink-stained fingers with black-and-magenta-tipped nails yanked the battery from his hand and slid it effortlessly into the space. Arent men supposed to be better at the whole insert tab A into slot B thing? Amy demanded as Tony ignored her and moved on to the second charger. I mean, its a skill set that comes with the equipment, right? Unless youre having trouble with this because youre having man trouble and were talking a classic case of displacement.

 He glared at her over the final battery. What the hell are you doing here?

 Oh, my God, Im right! When he took a step toward her, she held up both hands and grinned. Okay, okay, its not like my inbox isnt already full of stories of erectile dysfunction.

 Tony sighed, determined not to get involved in an argument he couldnt win. I got you a spam filter.

 Whatd be the fun in that? Anyway, Im here with tomorrows sides.

 Wheres Wanda?

 Who?

 Office PA.

 I know who, I was being sarcastic. Bitch sold a movie-of-the-week script to an American network and quit this afternoon. Shes moving to LA to become a rich-and-famous writer. Amys snort carried the wisdom of six years in Canadian television. Yeah, like that ever happens. She held up her hands again, this time so that Tony could note the black streaks across both palms. Left me to deal with a printer jam in the photocopier and this crap doesnt wash off. Id have asked the boss if he minded dropping the sides off when he picked up the girls, she added lowering her hands and looking around, but I wanted to see the inside of the house. It doesnt look haunted.

 Ethereal music drifted in from the front hall.

 Sounds haunted.

 Thats Zev. Hes distorting Tchaikovsky.

 Kinky. So, how long have I got to look around?

 Tony glanced at his watch. Not long. Its 8:40 now, and when I came downstairs at 8:30, they were almost finished. You go take a quick look; Id better call CB and find out if he wants me to drive the girls back to the studio.

 Suck-up.

 Adult of record.

 Responsible suck-up.

 Cell phone reception in the house still stank and the signal hed managed to pick up earlier in the breezeway had disappeared. Given the crap radio reception, he didnt think hed better move too far away from the building in case Adam needed him.Maybe the front porch. It was raining again, so he came back into the kitchen, closed the door behind him, and . . .

 Was that three quarters of someones head?

 No.

 A flash of bloodstained shirt sleeve?

 He was imagining things.

 Thats my story and Im sticking to it.

 He grabbed a handful of marshmallow strawberries out of the bowl on the kitchen table as he passed. Karen had started to move most of the food back out to the craft services truck, but the marshmallows remained. He wasnt having any problems a hit of sugar couldnt cure.



 Why cant he see us? He saw us before.

 Theres more happening now; we cant get enough energy to break through his denial.

 What denial? Stephen snorted, waving his hand back and forth to no effect. He already saw us twice, once in the drawing room and once in the bathroom.

 He saw us in mirrors!

 Okay, but then he just saw us.

 After the mirrors. Cassie closed her fingers around their quarrys arm, but he merely shivered and continued walking. We need a mirror!

 Theres one on the wall by the kitchen door.

 Stephen! Hes walking away from the kitchen door!

 Hey, no need to get frosted; Im just trying to help.

 The glass doors in the butlers pantry; you can see yourself in them! She sped past their quarry and grabbed the pull on the last cabinet by the dining room door. Help me get this open! It wont do us any good if he doesnt actually look.

 Its not going to make any difference to us.

 Fine. It wont dohim any good. Now get over here!



 The glass door on one of the upper cabinets flew open with enough force that the glass rattled as it slammed back on its hinges. Tony jumped, recovered, and instinctively reached out to close it. His brain came on-line about half a second behind his hand, but by then it was too late. He could see himself reflected in the glass and, standing behind him, he could see the dead teenagers as clearly as he had in the drawing room. Okay,not his imagination. It was suddenly very, very cold in the butlers pantry.

 He tossed the last marshmallow strawberry into his mouth, chewed slowly, and sighed. What?

 The girlWhat had Lee called her? Cassie?made a spinning motion with one finger.

 You want me to turn around? They were standing behind him. If he turned around . . .

 Her motion became a little more frantic.

 If he turned around, hed be able to see it coming. Whatever it was. Which wasnt particularly comforting.

 What the hell.

 And with any luck,he thought as he turned,not literally hell. After all, Lee had spoken to them earlier and nothing metaphysical had happened to him.

 They were standing right where their reflections had suggested they would be. Large as life and twice as dead. Or dead twice anyway.

 So? His voice sounded remarkably steady; given that his feelings about his current situation ranged between terror and barely suppressed annoyance, he was impressed. Whyd I need to turn around?

 Reflections have no voice.

 As a general rulejust FYIneither do dead people.

 Cassie rolled her eye, looking remarkably like Amy considering she was missing a quarter of her face. Look, I dont make the rules.

 Hey! He raised a placating hand. I hear you. You wouldnt believe . . .A moments pause. Actually,you might.

 It doesnt matter. Youve got to get out of here!

 What?

 Youve got to get everyone out of the house by sunset!

 Sunset? It was eight forty-seven. Sunset was at eight fifty-three. All those years with Henry had made sunset a hard habit to break. Six minutes.Oh, crap . . .

 The ghosts kept up as he sprinted through the dining room, fumbling for his radio.

 You believe us? the boy demanded. Just like that?

 Ive had some experience with sunsets and things going bump in the dark. And speaking of bump, his battery was dead.And one more time, oh, crap . . .

 Id worry more about splat than bump.

 Youre not helping, Stephen!

 Can anyone else see you? he asked as he skidded into the foyer.

 Zev looked up from his mini disk recorder and frowned. Pretty much everyone, why?

 Cassie shook her head. No, just you.

 Great. And to Zev: Weve got to get out of here.

 Well,Im almost done, but you cant just bail on the job.

 Hey, jobs almost done. He grabbed the music directors arm and gave him a little shove toward the door. Why dont I meet you outside?

 Why dont you switch to decaf, Zev suggested, twisting free. Its raining, Ill wait here.

 That ballroom is incredible, Amy announced emerging from the hall that led past the library and toward the back of the house. Its bigger than my whole God-damned apartment!

 You shouldnt go into the ballroom, Stephen muttered. Theres too many of them in the ballroom.

 Too many what? Tony demanded. Amy and Zev turned to stare at him. Never mind. You guys get out of here, Ill get the others.

 Hed gone up only half a dozen steps when the girls started down from the second floor dragging Everett behind them.

 Were going to get a facial in the trailer! Ashley announced when she saw Tony.

 No, no! Everett protested, struggling to keep up. I said you needed to wash your faces!

 Facials! Brianna shrieked.

 Tony got out of their way. If nothing else, the girls would be out by sunset. The girls and Everett. And Zev and Amy. Except Zev and Amy were still standing in the hall! He made a shooing motion toward the door and continued upstairs, pushing past the grinning grip carrying Everetts makeup case.

 How many people were still up there? Peter, Tina, Adam, Mouse, Kate, Sorge, Mason, Leeand Brenda. Given the problems with the lamps, at least one electrician. Chris, the gaffer, had gone out to the truck to check his extra lights and Tony hadnt seen him come back in. One grip following the girls and Everett. Maybe one or two still up there. Hartley Skenski, the boom operator, and a sound techthered been more of the sound crew around before lunch when theyd been dealing with the extras, but Tony could only remember seeing the one by the bathroom. Thirteen, maybe fourteen. Under the circumstances, hed rather it wasnt thirteen. He really didnt need anything that could be interpreted as an omen.

 Im not going out there! Its raining and Ill get wet!

 Ashleys voice pulled Tony around. Both girls, Everett, and the grip were standing just inside the closed outer door staring out through the beveled glass into the twilight. Zev and Amy were standing just inside the open inner doors. It was dark enough outside that Tony could see all six reflections. At least there were only six. That was good, right?

 Except they were supposed to be outside by now!

 Youre running out of time.

 You know, Stephen, your sisters right. Shoulders against the wallpaper, he slid past the ghost and started back downstairs. Youre not fucking helping!

 Hed just stepped off the bottom step when he felt a sudden chill. The air grew heavy and still. The sounds of talking and laughter and cables being dragged along the upstairs hall became distantwrapped in cotton. No. Given the way the temperature had plunged, wrapped in ice.

 Youre too late, Stephen murmured.

 Tony snorted. Quelsurprise.

 A door slammed.

 And then another.

 And another.

 And another.

 The sound of the front door slamming echoed through the foyer and as the echoes died, the world snapped back into place.

 The front door was already closed, Tony said to Cassie as he charged past.

 She shrugged. So were all the others.

 The girls, actually looking a little scared, had backed into the hall with the grip.

 Everett reached for the door handle.

 Tony couldnt see his reflection in the glass. Nor could he see the porch, or the rain, or anything at all. It was as if the world had gone from dusk to dark in a heartbeat.

 Everett! Dont . . . !

 Too late. The makeup artist grabbed the handle, turned it, shook it, kicked the base of the door, and then turned back toward his audience. Its locked. Or jammed.

 The inner doors slammed shut, the blackout curtain billowing out into the foyer like a clich villains cloak.

 It turned out the inner doors were also locked. Or jammed. Or held closed by the evil within the house grown more powerful with the setting of the sunbut Tony figured now was not the time to mention that.

 Trapped between the inner and outer doors, Everett pushed while Tony pulled. Nothing.

 What the hell is going on down here? Peters voice drew everyones attention around to the stairs. Tony started to do a quick head count. . . .eleven, twelve, thirteen . . .

 Which was when the lights went out.

 I guess I should have mentioned that was likely to happen, Cassie murmured under the high-pitched screams of the boss daughters.



 The caretakers hand stopped about ten centimeters from the kitchen door, his fingers stubbing up against an invisible barrier.

 Thats not good. He glanced down at the black cat. Yep, you were right. Im sorry I doubted you.



 Fortunately, Tina had a small flashlight in her purse and Hartley remembered seeing candles in a drawer in the kitchen.

 What the hell were you doing going through the drawers? Never mind, Peter continued before Hartley could answer. I dont really care. Go with Tina and bring the candles back here. Everyone else, stay right where you are. We dont need to spend the rest of the night searching for someone whos wandered off in the dark.

 The dark seemed a lot, well, darker after the small cone of light from the flashlight disappeared through the dining room.

 My cell phone isnt working. Amys voice.

 Neither is mine. And Zevs.

 After the incident in episode five, CBs announcement about cell phones on set had been succinct.Next one I find, I implant.  Afraid to find out justwhere, the entire crew had stopped carrying their phones although Tony was willing to bet that every backpack or bag in the ADs office held one. And that none of them would work.

 He jumped about two feet straight up when a small hand grabbed his T-shirt.

 I dont like this!

 Dont worry. Trying not to hyperventilate, he pried the fabric out of Briannas grip and wrapped her fingers in his. Itll be all right.

 No, it wont. Stephen drifted into his line of sight, looking for the first time translucent and traditionally ghostlike. Itll be bad. And then itll get worse.

 Its probably just a shift in air pressure. Adams voice came from about halfway up the stairs. One of the back doors blew shut.

 The back doors have been shut all day. That had to be Kate, Mouses second, because it wasnt Tina or Amy or Brenda, the only other women in the house.Other livewomen, he corrected silently, wishing hed taken the time to learn the Wizards Lamp spell instead of the showier Come to Me.

 Then one of them blew open and the storm took the power out.

 Power in this house sucks. Given content, probably the electrician.

 The power in this house is ga . . . Ow! Zev! What was that for? Definitely Amy. All I was going to say was that the power was gathering!

 Shes right. Cassie joined her brother. Shes guessing, but shes right.

 Zevs voice sounded like it was coming through clenched teeth. Lets try not to scare the G. I. R. L. S.

 Were not deaf. Ashley. No mistaking the nearly teenage snort.

 And we can spell. Brianna sounded better than she had, but her hand remained in Tonys. And our fathers not going to like this!

 No one argued.

 And, she declared triumphantly, I can hear that baby again.

 So could Tony; not screaming this time, but crying. A thin, sad, barely audible sound that drifted down from the upper hall.

 Both ghosts turned toward the stairs.

 Karl, said Cassie.

 Hes just getting warmed up, Stephen added. Then he glanced at Tony and grinned. Get it? Warmed up?

 Impossible not to snicker.

 Something funny, Mr. Foster?

 Peter knows my snicker? Now that was disturbing. Uh, no.

 Too bad, Im sure we could all use a chuckle. Adam, try to raise Hartley.

 Cant. My batterys dead.

 I thought you just changed it.

 I did.

 Theyll be all right, Cassie murmured reassuringly. As long as they go straight to the kitchen and straight back. Its still early.

 And later? Tony asked, pitching his voice under the argument going on at the stairs.

 Later . . .

 She paused for long enough that her brother answered. Later, no ones going to be all right.

 Well, thanks a whole fucking lot for that observation.

 Briannas fingers tightened around Tonys hand, and her small body bumped hard against his hip. Thanks a whole fucking lot for what observation?

 Brianna! Ashleys protest gave Tony a short reprieve. Im telling Mom you said fucking!

 So did you!

 Did not!

 Just did, Zitface!

 Other conversations were beginning to quiet as the girls volume rose. Any minute now Peter was going to demand to know what was going on and Brianna would tell him and then Tony would have to explain why hed said what hed said and to who. To whom?Oh, yeah, grammar and the dead. Lets make sure we get thatright. . . . He could almost hear Peter gathering up his authority. And then he saw salvation: Theres a light in the dinning room!

 Tinas flashlight.

 Hartley emerged out of the darkness carrying a full box of white emergency candles. I got no way to light them, he said as he reached the hall. I stopped smoking five years ago now.

 Kate hadnt smoked for two, Mouse for almost seven, and Adam for going on six months.

 Oh, for crying out loud. Masons distinctive tones. He came the rest of the way down the stairs and thrust his hand, holding his lighter, into the narrow cone of illumination. His fingers gripped the blue translucent plastic in a way that dared his audience to comment. No one took the dare. Right at the moment, no one cared if Mason smoked and lied about it. Right at the moment, no one would have cared if Mason set fire to bus shelters and lied about that.

 They lit six of the twenty-four candles. Six created a large enough circle of light for comfort but not enough flame to be a fire hazard.

 A fire hazard? Mason snorted. Its a twenty-foot ceiling, Peter. What the hell are we going to ignite?

 This place is rented, and were going to be careful. The director shut the box on the remaining candles and tucked it under one arm, so pointedly not mentioning the possibility of needing the other eighteen later that everyone heard it.

 Be careful, girls. Brenda motioned Ashley back as she moved in toward a candle. Keep your clothes away from the flame; we cant afford to replace them.

 Not to mention, Sorge pointed out dryly, it is a bad thing to have children catch on fire.

 Brenda shot him a look that might have done damage given enough light for him to catch the full impact. Thats what I meant.

 I never doubted it.

 The baby, Karl, continued crying. Tony glanced up the stairs, wondering if the sound had gotten louder, and realized that Lee was watching him, frowning slightly. Their eyes met and just for an instant, Tony thought he saw . . .

 Everetts lying down!

 And whatever it was, it was gone.

 He spun around. Brianna pulled down the blackout curtain and was shining Tinas flashlight between the doors. The beam showed Everett lying on his back, head canted up against the baseboard on the west wall, left arm stretched out, right hand clutching his golf shirt right over the little polo player. Oh, great! Hes had a fucking heart attack!

 You said fucking.

 The door was still jammed shut. Yeah, get over it.

 Stay back; none of you can help! Peters voice stopped the rush. Tony, is he dead?

 No, Cassie answered before Tony could.

 He turned and gave a little shriek to see her three quarters of a profile also peering through the door about four inches from his shoulder.

 Tony? Zev. And he sounded concerned.

 Face flushed with embarrassmentit had been a distinctly girly shriekTony kept his eyes locked on the makeup artist and waved a hand in the general direction of the people behind him. Hes unconscious, but hes not dead.

 How can you tell?

 I can see him breathing.

 His lips are kind of blue. Brianna flicked the flashlight beam down the length of Everetts prone body. I like his sandals.

 Tony was just beginning to consider stepping away and trying to call the door to him when Mouses large hand closed over his shoulder and pulled him back. Move. You too, kid.

 She shone the flashlight at the cameraman. The beam gleamed along the length of the light stand he was holding. Are you gonna break the glass?

 Yes.

 Cool.

 I wouldnt, Stephen muttered.

 Great. With no time to be subtle, Tony grabbed Mouses wrist. The big man glared down at him. What about broken glass? You know, shards of it sticking into Everett?

 Risk, Mouse acknowledged. But he needs help. He shook off Tonys grip and swung the stand, the heavy base slamming down toward the inner window.

 From where he was standing, Tony wasnt even sure it hit the glass although the sound of an impact echoed through the hall. There was a flash of red and another impact as Mouse landed on his ass six feet from the door, the stand bouncing across the hardwood to clang up against the far wall.

 The house wont let you damage it, Stephen told him under the rising babble of voices.

 You couldnt have said that?

 Would they have believed you?

 Point to the dead guy.

 All right, all right! Just calm down. With everyone used to following Peters direction, the noise level dropped. Im sure well be able to get to Everett in a couple of minutes. The guys outside at the trucks are probably working on getting the doors open right now.

 The silence that fell was so complete the softpad pad of Ashley shifting her weight from one bare foot to the other was the only sound in the hall.

 Then Tina took her flashlight back and snapped it off. Shouldnt we be able to hear them? she asked.



 All right; on three.

 Chris and Ujjal, the genny op, shifted their grips on four-foot lengths of steel scaffolding pipe.

 One. Karen wiped rain off her face and moved a little to the right where she had a better line of sight on the kitchen door. Two. Three.

 Impact. A flare of red light and both men were flung away from the house. Karen ducked as a pipe cartwheeled over her head to crash against the side of the truck.

 Told you it wouldnt work. Graham Brummels voice sounded over the fading reverberation of steel on steel. House is closed up tight. Wont be opening till dawn and theres nothing you can do from out here to change that. You might as well just do what I said and head home like the rest of the crew.

 Fuck you, Chris snarled as he got to his feet. Im not listening to you; youre in on this. Im calling the cops.

 And why would you need to call the police, Mr. Robinson?

 Chris, Karen, and Ujjal turned. Graham Brummel stepped back into the shadows as Chester Bane moved out into the spill of light falling from the spotlight mounted on the side of the truck. He stood, dry under the circle of his umbrella, and listened impassively as his three employees, growing wetter and wetter, attempted to explain. Finally, he raised a massive hand. You cant get into the house.

 It wasnt a question, but Chris answered it anyway. No, sir.

 You cant even touch the house.

 No, sir.

 You cant contact the people inside the house, but you believe that they are unable to leave.

 No, sir. He frowned as Karen drove her elbow into his side. Yes, sir?

 My daughters are still in there.

 Propelled by a hindbrain response to danger, all three of them took an involuntary step back. Karen elbowed Chris again, and he coughed out another, Yes, sir.

 And the caretaker knows whats going on.

 Yes, sir. In unison this time, powered by relief.

 Where is he?

 Hes. . . Chris turned, realized Graham Brummel was no longer standing by the front of the truck and frowned. Before he could continue, the sound of a door slamming over by the garage answered the question.

 CB made a sound, half speculation, half growl. His employees parted as he strode forward, walked around the truck, and crossed the small courtyard to the garage, the wet gravel grinding under each deliberate step. At the door leading to the caretakers apartment, he furled his umbrella and handed it back, fully confident thered be someone there to take it. The door was locked.

 He rattled the brass knob for a moment, noting the amount of play in the movement of the door. Then he took four long steps back into the courtyard. Ujjal scrambled to get out of his way.

 Should I call the police? Karen asked him as he stood, staring at the door.

 Not yet. A sledgehammer wrapped in an eight-hundred-and-fifty-dollar London Fog trench coat would have made much the same sound as his shoulder did hitting the painted wood.

 Wood cracked.

 A lock, he said, forcing the brass tongue through the splintered casing and opening the door, is only as good as the wood around it. Find someplace dry to wait where you can see the house. Come and get me if anything changes.

 Shouldnt we . . . Chris began and stopped as CB paused, one foot over the threshold. Never mind. Well find someplace dry to wait and watch the house.

 Two more steps inside, and CB paused again. Is Tony Foster trapped inside? he asked without turning.

 Uh . . . yeah.

 Good.

 There was a black cat sitting at the top of the stairs. He ignored it. The door behind the cat was also locked.

 You have to the count of three, Mr. Brummel.

 The door opened on two. Mr. Brummel didnt look happy, but he was smart enough to move well back out of the way.

 Tell me, CB commanded as he stepped into the apartment.

 Graham Brummel snorted. Or youll what? Call the cops?

 No.

 The single word carried threat disproportionate to its size.



 You guys know whats going on?

 Brother and sister exchanged a look as identical as injuries allowed.

 Sort of, Cassie allowed at last.

 Tony sighed and slid a few steps farther into the dining room. There were about half a dozen arguments going on in the front hall, and so far he hadnt been missed.  Sort of  isnt good enough.

 Its mostly Grahams theory.

 Graham?

 Graham Brummel, the caretaker. Hes kind of a distant cousin, Cassie explained. When he got the job as caretaker about six years ago, he began using the blood tie to pull us more into the world. Thats why were aware and the rest arent.

 The rest. Oh, yeah, that sounded good. Tony sank down on one of the folding chairs the caterers had provided and resisted the urge to beat his head against the table. Start at the beginning.

 The beginning? She took a deep breathor seemed to take a deep breath since she wasnt actually breathing. All right. The house is . . .

 Or holds, Stephen interrupted.

 Right; it is or holds a malevolence.

 A malevolentwhat ? Tony demanded impatiently.

 Cassie frowned. Theres no need to be rude. You know, we dont have to help you.

 Youre right. Not that theyd been a lot of help so fara little late with the warning. I apologize.

 Mollified, she gave the folds of her skirt a bit of a fluff before continuing. Graham says its just a malevolence.

 A piece of bad stuff?

 Very bad, Cassie agreed. And it collects tormented spirits. Graham thinks it got the idea from Creighton Caulfield who collected some very weird stuff. He thinks Mr. Caulfield was the template for its personality.

 Tony held up a hand. So, cutting to the chasethe malevolence, the evil thing in the house wants to collect us?

 Probably. It hasnt added anything since Karl and his mother and that was almost thirty years ago.

 I didnt see his mother.

 Stephen snorted. Of course, you didnt. Karls like a night-light, hes on all the time.

 That seemed to jibe with Amys theory of the youngest being the strongest. AndMr. Brummel knew this when CB rented the house?

 Yes and no. He knew the background of the house, but he also believed that because the house had been empty for so long, the malevolence was dormant.

 Sleeping, Stephen offered as Tony frowned.

 Yeah, I know what dormant means. Looks like he was wrong.

 No, he was right. We can feel it now, like we could before, but the feeling only just started up again.

 Great. Somehow, theyd screwed themselves. So shooting here woke it?

 Stephen shrugged and adjusted his head. Graham says only blood can wake it.

 He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowed, his nose flaredhe looked like a poster boy for dire warnings. You dont want to be bleeding, not in this house.

 Yeah, but all the blood we used is fake!

 Hed been standing not three feet from the steps when she fell, close enough to hear her knee make that soft hard definite tissue damage sound, and he had a pretty good idea of where shed impacted with the porch. Weirdly, while thered been lines of red dribbling down her shin, he couldnt find any blood on the stones.

 Oh, crap.

 Tony? Holding one of the candles carefully out in front of him, Zev peered into the dining room. What are you doing sitting all alone in the dark?

 He wasnt alone and the two ghosts shed enough light for conversation. Probably not a good idea to mention that though. Im . . . uh, just thinking.

 Well, think in the foyer. Peter wants us all to stay together.

 In the foyer?

 He doesnt think we should leave Everett.

 As they left the dining room together, Amys voice rose to meet them. Look, what were involved in here is clearly beyond the usual and a sance is a perfectly valid way to contact the restless spirits holding us in this house.

 Restless spirits, Mason scoffed from the stairs. Thats the most ridiculous thing I ever heard.

 But he almost sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.

 Do you have a better explanation, then? Amy asked him. Does anyone?

 No one did.

 So whynot hold a sance?

 Tony turned just enough to raise an eyebrow at Cassie.

 The ghost shrugged. Well, the one with the purple hair would be perfectly safe, but make sure the younger girl isnt involved. If she can hear Karl, she could easily get possessed. Thats what happened to Karls mother.

 Not our fault, Stephen muttered. We were minding our own business and she saw us in the bathroom mirror.

 So she tried to contact us and got grabbed by something else.

 The evil thing?

 You saw what she did to Karl, what do you think?

 I think . . . Which was when Tony realized that the hall had gone quiet. And everyone was staring at him. I . . . um . . . I think a sance is a bad idea. I mean, if we are being held by restless spirits, by the kind of spirits whod trap us in the house and keep us away from Everett, do we even want to talk to them?

 Amy rolled her eyes. Well, duh, Tony. They can tell us why were here and what we have to do in order to get out!

 Survive until morning? Stephen suggested. And were not restless, were just bored.

 Karls crying had gotten louder.

 Were not having a sance. There was a definitive tone in Tinas voice that said this was the final word on the subject. This is not the time to start playing about with things no one truly understands. Not when were in the middle of a situationwe dont understand. And we are most certainly not involving the children in that sort of potentially dangerous nonsense.

 They wouldnt be involved, Amy protested.

 You couldnt get the little one far enough away, Cassie said quietly.

 A little too quietly.

 Tony turned. He could barely see her.

 Stephen glanced down at his nearly transparent hands and grimaced. Show time.

 The sound lingered a moment after he vanished. It was the only sound. Karl had stopped crying.

 A door slammed upstairs.

 I know what youre doing! A man. Not so much shouting as shrieking in rage. He sounded . . .

 Like hes gone totally bug fuck.Tony jumped at the hollowthunk of something heavy and sharp impacting with one of the second-floor doors.

 Heavy and sharp.

 Back in 1957, September twenty-sixth to be exact, Stephen and Cassandra Mills father freaked and attacked them with an ax.

 Show time.

 Oh, no . . . He was halfway up the stairs before he realized hed started moving. A hand grabbed at his leg, but he shook it off. Voices called his name, he ignored them.

 The manMr. Millsyanked the blade of the ax out of the door to Masons dressing room. Except it wasnt the door to Masons dressing room; the hall had reverted to pre-70s renovation carpeting and wallpaper. The small part of Tonys mind not anticipating terror took a moment to note it was an improvement.And I guess that explains why the lights are back on.

 Mr. Mills staggered sideways as the ax came free and screamed, You cant hide from me!

 White showed all around his eyes. The skin of his face was nearly gray except for a dark spot of color high on each cheek. Blood oozed out of the cut where hed driven his teeth through his lip, mixed with saliva, and dribbled down his chin.

 Bugfuck seemed a fairly accurate diagnosis.

 The door opened across the hall and Cassie stepped out, pulling it nearly closed behind her. Her face was flushed, her hair messy, but her head was intact. Daddy, what are you . . . ?

 Mr. Mills roared and charged toward her swinging wildly.

 Cassie stared at him in astonishment, lips slightly parted, frozen in place.

 At the last possible instant, the door behind her opened and Stephen dove out into the hall, one arm around his sisters waist, taking them both out from under the blade of the ax.

 Which came out of the plaster and lathe a lot faster than it had out of the wood.

 Holding hands, Cassie and Stephen ran down the hall and into the bathroom, slamming the door.

 No! Tony stepped out into the hall. Youll be trapped!

 Mr. Mills seemed to realize the same thing because he started to laugh maniacally.

 Hey! Crazy guy!

 No response. The ax chopped into the bathroom door.

 God damn it, you cant do this! Theyre your kids!

 Another chop and a kick and the door was open.

 Cassie screamed.

 He couldnt let this happen. It didnt matter that they were already dead. That this had happened almost forty freaking years ago. He couldnt stand by and do nothing. He raced down the hall and threw his arms around Mr. Mills, hoping to pin the ax to his side.

 Mr. Mills walked into the bathroom, swinging the ax, like he wasnt even there.

 Filth!

 The first blow took Stephen in the side of the neck, the force of it driving him to his knees. Cassie screamed again and tried to drag her brother with her into the bathtub. Her father reached past his dying son, grabbed the strap of her dress and yanked her forward. She stumbled and slipped on Stephens blood. The strap tore. As the pressure released, she spun around just as the ax came down, chopping the chunk out of her head.

 Tony really hoped that she wasnt the one moaning as she crumpled to lie beside her brother. He really hoped it was him.

 Splattered with the blood of his children, Mr. Mills turned and walked out of the bathroom, Tony backing hurriedly out of his way. Once in the hall, he looked down at the bloody ax as though hed never seen it before, as though he had no idea whose brains and hair were stuck along its length, then he adjusted his grip and slammed the blade down between his own eyes.

 Tony skipped back as the body fell and realized the light was disappearing. No . . . He wasnt going to be stuck up here with . . . with . . .

 Tony!

 A light in the growing darkness.

 A circle of light.

 A hand grabbed his arm and a familiar voice said, Are you okay?

 Lee?

 Yeah, its me. Come on. Lets get you back to the others, okay?

 He was talking slowly, calmingly. Like he expected Tony to go off the deep end at any moment. As the last of the light disappeared and there was nothing in the upstairs hall but him and Lee and Tinas flashlight, as Karl started crying again, Tony had to admit that the deep end had its attractions.

 Lee took his arm as he stumbled and got him to the stairs where other hands helped steady him as he descended. Once in the hall, he swayed and sank slowly to his knees.

 Amy, get the wastebasket out of the drawing room. Tinas voice.

 But . . .

 Quickly.

 Just quickly enough.

 Tony puked until his stomach emptied, then took a swallow of water and puked again. Finally, when even the dry heaves stopped, he wiped his mouth and sat back on his heels.

 Wordlessly, Zev handed him a tissue.

 He wiped his mouth and dropped it in the bucket. Thanks.

 The music director shrugged. Hey, not the first time Ive seen you toss your cookies.

 Man, you two had a seriously twisted relationship!

 He had the flu, Zev explained shortly, accepting a water bottle from Amy and passing it over. You okay now?

 I think so. Physically anyway.

 What happened?

 Polite lets pretend Tonys not puking conversations stopped. Tony glanced around the hall and found all attention directed at him. Not surprising, reallythey mustve thought hed gone insane. He sighed. Hed been afraid he was going to have to say this at some point; hed just hoped to put it off as long as possible.

 I could still lie.

 Except that hed figured out what the housethe malevolent thing was up toand if he couldnt save Cassie and Stephen, there were another eighteen people in danger. Coworkers. Friends. Kids. Lying wouldnt help them.

 Another deep breath.

 I see dead people.

 Someone snickered. Kate found her voice first. Bullshit.

 No. Lee came slowly down the stairs, eyes locked on Tonys face. I believe him.

 Chapter Six

 ?? ?

 SO ALL THE TIME Im growing up, I heard about my mums cousin who married a rich guy, had two kids, a big house, and the perfect life except that her husband went nuts and killed the kids and himself. End of perfect life. She dies in the loony bin fifteen years later. Graham took another pull on his beer. You sure you dont want one?

 Im sure. CB leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight. Get on with it.

 Yeah, okay. Maybe that storys why its always been about dead people for me. Maybe not. Who knows? Point is, I never forgot it and a few years back, when I was at loose ends, I decided to go looking for the house. You know; the house where the perfect life ended. He jerked his head toward the window. That house. I showed up right about the time the last caretaker took a walk out to the highway and stepped in front of an eighteen wheeler. It seemed like a signthe timing and alland, next thing I know, Im employed. A month later, Im in that second-floor bathroomthe bathroom where it happened, where my mums cousins kids got whackedand I look in the mirror and theres these two dead kids standing behind me. I turn around and there s nothing there. I keep going back to the bathroom and I keep seeing them and I work at it . . .

 Youwork at it?

 Yeah, you know, I open up to it. I reach out to the other realm, he added when CB clearly didnt understand. Never mind, its not important. Soon I can see them even outside the mirror and soon after that we start talking. Theyre a little vague at first, after all theyve been trapped at the moment of their deaths for years, but the longer we talk the more they remember who they were.

 What does this have to do with my daughters?

 Im getting there; youre not going to get whats happening without the background stuff. So while Im talking to the familythats the two dead kids in case you lost trackIm scoping out the rest of the house and spiritually, thats one crowded piece of real estate. A long drink, then he set the bottle down on the table and leaned forward, mirroring CBs position. Bad stuff leaves its mark, okay? Im guessing with all the weird crap Creighton Caulfield brought into the house, he got his hands on a piece that wasnt just weirdit was out-and-out evil. Just to be on the safe side, though, I checked to make sure they didnt build the house on some kind of off-limits Indian burial site and they didnt. The First Nations out here, theyre on top of that stuff.

 Get. On. With. It. CB growled. Had one of his writers pitched him a plot so heavily weighted with clich, that writer would be back working the Tim Hortons drive-through before he got to the second act. Clich applied to his daughters, however, that made a compelling story.

 Right. Now, Creighton Caulfield, he was a piece of work. Nobody liked him and the stuff he liked, well, you dont want to know a guy who likes that kind of stuff, see? And, fed by Caulfield, the bit of bad keeps getting bigger. After a while, its no longer a mark left by bad stuff, its reached a critical mass and its now a bad thing all on its own. By the time Caulfield dies, its a full-sized malevolence.

 He paused, waiting for comment, but CB only nodded, so he went on. Trouble is nothings feeding it anymore. Caulfields gone and nothings making it any bigger. So it starts working on the new people in the house and a lot more proactively than just lying around and waiting for them to slip on it like some kind of evil banana peel. It finds the weakest link. Snickering, he sat back. You are . . .

 I wouldnt. Not a suggestion.

 Grahams mouth snapped shut and he sighed. You know, you should really keep a sense of humor about this or its going to be a long night.

 A short night for you if you dontfinish the story.

 What? Then he found the threat. Uh, right. So the malevolence finds the person most open to it and kicks him round the bend, but this person doesnt get to go bye-bye until hes offed someone else. The whole damned place, and I use the word damned in its literal sense, is full of murders and suicides and every death feeds the malevolence and makes it stronger, more realized.

 Again, and for the last timewhat does this have to do with my daughters?

 Im getting there. In the mid-seventies, a woman named Eva Kranby tossed her baby in a lit fireplace and then killed herself. Her husbandanother seriously rich guy . . .

 The Kranby of Kranby Groceries?

 No idea. Wherever this guy got his money, losing his wife and baby just crushed him, but he wouldnt sell the house. Hes living in New Zealand now, but he still wont sell. The house has been empty ever since except for the caretakers. The first guy, hes a total stoner and when the house makes a move he thinks hes having a bad acid trip and takes off. No food for the house. Next guy, hes a religious nut who spends a lot of time praying and finally snaps, goes babbling to his minister about exorcisms and the like and hes gone. Still no food for the house. Next guy, the guy I replace, actually does kill himself, but he does it away from the property. So theres been nothing new coming in for a number of years and hardly anyone to work on, so by the time I get here, in order to keep from just bleeding away energy, the house goes dormant and as long as youre careful not to wake it up, its perfectly safe. Okay, some parts of it, like the ballroom, can be freak shows in their own rightwere talking a lot of trapped dead in there and you spend any time in with them, next thing you know, youre going to be joining the dance. There was this electrician, back during the first caretaker, got brought in to fix some wiring or something and they found him dead in the ballroom. They called it a heart attack, but it was exhaustion.

 So the househas killed after the Kranbys.

 In technical post mortem talk, he wasnt killed, he diedI got the feeling that was the ballroom acting on its own. He frowned. Mind you, the malevolence was still awake then, so who knows. Not something Id want to risk anyway. The dead, one at a time, not so big a problem, but you get them in groups and theyre like teenagers. Could get up to anything.

 We were going to use the ballroom.

 Yeah, I heard. Good thing you changed your mind. A quick glance at the window and the dark shadow of the house against the night sky. Or a moot point. Hard to say.

 And, I note, you didnt say. Anything.

 Well, you didnt use the ballroom, did you? I figured as long as the malevolence was asleep, no problem. You got anyone thats too sensitive on staff, and Ive seen your show so Im thinking thats not likely, and they might be getting the whole cold chills and bad feeling about things, but thats all. Theres only one thing that can wake the house.

 CB waited out the caretakers pause for effect with barely concealed impatience. It was, as a result, a short pause.

 Blood. One of your people got blood on the house. I warned them not to, so its nothing to do with me. The house woke up. The malevolence is starvingthe energy from the trapped dead is enough to keep it from fading, but thats all and it doesnt have time to be subtle, so when the sun set, it locked everything down. Itll use what energy it has stored to score big, to get it enough juice to keep it going for years and years. Your guy outside says theres nineteen people in there. Itll use whats in the house already to drive the weak ones mad and theyll do the rest.

 The weak will murder the strong and then commit suicide?

 A long swallow finished the beer. Yeah.

 How do we stop this?

 Just like that? How do we stop this? Brows drawn in, Graham stared across the empty bottle at his audience. This is the part where you tell me that Im crazy and thats the most preposterous story youve ever heard.

 Im in television, syndicated television at that. Your story is derivative but hardly preposterous. Although belief came more from the gate to another world that opened into his soundstage. Also, my own people have informed me that they cannot get into the house. Now then . . . His hands closed slowly into fists. . . . how do we stop this?

 Pale cheeks paled further as Graham Brummel suddenly realized he was also in a certain amount of danger. We cant. We can only wait until morning and see who survives.

 Thats not good enough.

 Look . . . All flippancy had left his voice. . . . I understand. Its your people in there, your kids, but you cant even touch the house right now, so its a fair assumption we cant get inside.

 Is there a way for the people inside to get out?

 Graham shrugged. You got me. Im not inside.

 Theorize.

 Okay. Well, I guess that if someone took on the malevolence and won, then the housed open up.

 Given the plot thus far, that seemed to follow. Good.

 But thats not going to happen. Your people are sitting ducks. They wont have a clue whats going on and the house is going to work them like the barker works the rubes at a carny. Itll twist them and terrify them and theyll stop thinking for themselves.

 Dont count on it.

 What, because theyre television people and theyre used to weird?

 That, too. CB heaved himself up out of the chair and reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

 You cant call in. I thought your people told you that. Its sucking all the power out of . . . He stopped as CB raised a massive hand, shrugged, and wove his way around the stacks of old newspapers and books to the kitchen for another beer.

 His peoplehad told him that, which was why he hadnt spent the last twenty minutes on the phone. What he needed now was a second opinion. Mr. Fitzroy? Its Chester Bane. Mr. Foster seems to have gotten himself into a situation and we could use your insight. No, were on location . . . Yes, thats right. Ill be waiting for you in the driveway. Thank you.

 If thats a cop you called, Graham muttered, twisting the lid off another bottle as he came out of the kitchen. They cant help. And theX-Files left Vancouver years ago.

 Hes not a cop. Now, you . . .

 Me?

 What are you? A wizard? CB stared down at the beer sprayed nearly to the tips of his highly polished Italian loafers. Not a wizard. What then?

 I thought I told you. Its all about dead people for meIm a medium.

 Ah.

 You believe that, too?

 Yes.

 Jesus. Dropping back into his chair, Graham took a long drink. Youre either the most open-minded guy Ive ever met or the most gullible.

 Do Ilook gullible?

 Uh, no. Sorry. He rubbed the shadow of stubble on his chin with one hand and under the weight of CBs gaze, began to talk again. I used to work the carnival circuit till that kind of thing pretty much shut down. Then I did a bit of freelance, but I just dont got John Edwards touch, you know? Say, youre a producer. When this is over, do you think you could . . . ?

 No.

 Yeah, fine, whatever. I guess you got a right to be cranky; after all, the house has got your kids.

 CB walked over to the window and stared at the roofline barely visible through the rain. The house may have bitten off more than it can chew.



 So . . . Brianna glared up at Tony through narrowed eyes. . . . you lied about the baby.

 Yes.

 Was it, like, way gross?

 Yes.

 Cool.

 All right, just hold on for a minute. You lot . . . Peters gesture took in Lee, Hartley, Mouse, and Kate. . . . can hear Briannas baby crying. You . . . A considerably more truncated gesture at Tony. . . . can actually see it. Saw it. The ghost of it?

 Yes.

 And other ghosts?

 Yes.

 And a reenactment of them dying?

 Yes.

 Peter ran both hands back through his hair and sighed. And were locked in here because the house is trying to collect us. As ghosts?

 Probably.

 So it wants us dead, and is planning on driving some of us mad . . .

 Short drive for some of you, Mason muttered.

 . . . and having them kill the rest?

 Thats what its done in the past, Tony told him, suddenly needing to break the string of one-word answers.

 This is so unfair, Amy muttered, arms folded and chin tucked in tight against her chest. I should be seeing ghosts. Why do you get to see ghosts? You dont give a crap about other realms. If anyones going to be a medium, it should be me, not you.

 So youre what? his mouth asked before his brain could kick in. A large?

 Bite me, ghost boy. And, she continued indignation levels rising, why do they . . . Her gesture verged on rude, . . . get to hear ghosts and I dont!

 It was a rhetorical question, but Tony thought he actually knew the answer. Back in the spring, Lee, Mouse, and Kate had all been shadow-heldnot once, but twice. First theyd been ridden by individual shadows sent out to seek information, and then, as the shit really started to hit the fan, theyd been controlled by shadows along with the rest of the crew. Hartley and Mason had also been individually controlled, but Hartley hadnt been at work the day the Shadowlord had come calling and Mason had still been under the influence of his original shadow. Because Hartley was an alcoholic of long standing, his synapses were probably already a little fried before the whole shadow incident so no surprise it had only taken a single to open him up. Mason . . . Tony shot a speculative look at the actor and received a clear, nonverbalFuck you in return. Although Masonsaid he couldnt hear the baby, he had been shadow-held for longer than anyone else.

 None of which he was going to mention to Amy.

 As for Brianna . . .

 He had no idea.

 I mean, Brianna makes sense, Amy went on. Shes a kid and certain energies are attracted to kids.

 Oh.

 Its like the baby. The younger the energy the more power it has, thats why you can hear it.

 Heads nodded. Tony wondered if it was the purple hair.You got purple hair and suddenly youre an expert on the weird .

 So what do we do now? Zev asked over the sound of Karl crying.

 Finally, an easy question. We get out of this house.

 And how do we do that? Mason drawled. Given that we cant get the door open.

 Uh . . . They all actually seemed to be waiting for an answer. From a production assistant. Which was weird. Granted, a production assistant who could see dead people, so maybe they thought the two weirds canceled each other out. Tony had no idea. Why dont we try tossing a chair through one of those tall windows in the drawing room?

 Oh, no, wait just one minute, Tony. Peters hands rose into soothing egos position. We should see ifall the doors and windows are locked before we start breaking things. Windows cost money, and CBll have my hide if this shoot goes over budget.

 I never think Id say this, Sorge murmured, placing his hand on Peters shoulder, but if Tony is right and we are locked in with a crazy bad house, CB is the least of our worry.

 If Tony is right, Mason repeated. Big if. Hes a production assistant, for Christs sake.

 Im not. Lee stepped forward until he stood by Tonys side. Neither is Mouse. Neither is Kate. Neither is Hartley. They stirred as Lee named them, but they didnt step forward. And you know what? It doesnt matter. Getting the hell out of here as soon as possible sounds like a good idea, and since it seems obvious that the guys outside cant get inor they would have by now, he added pointedly, its up to us. Pivoting on a heel, he headed out of the hall, throwing, CB can bill me for the window, back over his shoulder. He paused at the edge of the candlelight. Tina?

 Tina snapped on her flashlight and followed.

 No fair! I want to throw something through the window! Brianna raced after the script supervisor, Ashley ran after her sister, and the moment after that, the hall began to empty.

 Baaa! Bunch of sheep, Amy muttered. One person moves and the rest follow. But Tony noticed she picked up a candle and came into the drawing room with the rest.

 With the curtains open, the glass in the windows looked like black velvet. Completely opaque and completely non-reflective. When Tina swept the flashlight beam across them, they seemed to absorb the light.

 Mouse took the captains chair from Lees hand. I throw harder.

 A heavy glass candy dish flew past him and shattered against the window, the pieces skittering across the hardwood floor.

 Brianna! Brendas voice sounded a lot like the candy dish looked.

 It wasnt me!

 I play baseball, Ashley explained as all eyes turned to her. Third base. It didnt go through the window.

 I throw harder than you, Mouse pointed out. He tested the weight of the chair, then took two long steps away from the window. Give me room.

 All right, listen up; if youre holding a candle, step back to the far wall, we dont want them blowing out. Moving up next to the cameraman and waving Lee off to one side, Peter indicated where he wanted the candleholders. Ashley, BriannaBrianna, dont play with the lamp, its an antiqueyou two stay with Brenda.

 She jumped at the sound of her name. I thought Tony was in charge of them.

 Well, right now, youre standing next to them. When that window breaks, I want them to be the first ones out.

 Tony couldnt help but notice that final bit of information made Brenda a lot happier about baby-sitting.

 Everyone else, Peter continued, make sure Mouse has room to swing. Are we ready?

 Lets settle down people. Action in . . . Adams voice trailed off as he realized what he was doing. Peter started it.

 Im the . . . Peter twisted around to see Mouse frowning down at him from about four inches away. Right. During half a dozen quick steps to one side, he regained his composure. What are you waiting for, then?

 The chair had the same effect on the window the candy dish hadnone at all. The window had the same effect on the chair except that the pieces were larger and flew farther from the point of impact.

 Son of a fucking bitch! Mouse yanked the splinter from his arm and tossed it to one side.

 Tony watched it tumble through the air, saw the blood glistening on the wood, and knew he wouldnt reach it in time. Call him paranoid, but giving more blood to the house seemed like a very bad idea. Panic spat out the seven words in one long string of sibilants and vowels and the splinter smacked into his hand. He shoved it in his pocket, wiped his band on his jeans, and realized that everyone had been too concerned with Mouse and/or the impregnability of the window to notice.

 What was that you just said?

 Fuck! Almost everyone! Heart in his throat, he spun around to find Lee staring at him speculatively. There were days hed give his right nut to have Lee stare at him speculatively. This was not one of them.

 Just, you know, swearing.

 Yeah? A dark brow rose. In what language?

 He didnt know. Arra had written the words of the spells out phonetically. She hadnt mentioned the name of the language. Which, as it happened, wasnt the point. And Lee was waiting for an answer.

 And waiting.

 And. . .

 This is nuts!

 And Tony was saved by the breakdown. As half a dozen other conversations went quiet, Tony turned to see Tom, the electrician standing alone, his chest rising and falling in a jerky, staccato rhythm.

 This is totally fucking CRAZY!

 Calm down, Tom. Adam moved toward him, one hand outstretched. Well get through this.

 No, we wont! Well die! Tom batted Adams hand away and turned wild eyes toward Tony. He says were all going to die!

 Heads pivoted to follow the accusation.

 Great. I said the house was going to try and kill us. Not the same thing.

 The same heads pivoted back again to catch the electricians response.

 Damn right its not. Because its not going to kill me. Tom slammed his fist against his sternum. The room had gone so quiet that the hollow thud of impact sounded unnaturally loud. Me, Im leaving! Before anyone could remind him theyd been locked in, he ran for the window.

 Stop him! Rubber soles squealing against the polished wood, Tony raced to intercept knowing even as he moved he didnt have a hope in hell of getting there in time.

 Easily avoiding Adams grab, Tom shoved Kate hard into Mouse rather than go around her. He was running full out when he hit the window.

 He didnt thud at the moment of impact.

 He crunched.

 Tony skidded to a stop beside the body.

 But. . . I thought I heard the window break, said Amys voice in the background as he dropped to one knee and felt for a pulse.

 It wasnt the window. Zevs voice.

 No pulse. No surprise considering the weird angles and the places the bones had come through the skin . . .

 Fuck!

 Mouse! Lift him off the floor!

 Wha . . .

 Do it! When Peter added his support, Tony started breathing again. Peter would remember about the blood. Directors saw the big picture. Tina! Sorge! Get that drop sheet off the gear in the library!

 Then Peters hand was around his arm, pulling him to his feet and out of the way as Tina and Sorge raced back with the drop sheet and Mouse laid the body on the plastic tarp and folded the edges up over it.

 Then they all stared as the smudges of blood disappeared into the floor.

 Is that bad? Peter murmured.

 Probably not good, Tony acknowledged.

 Still, the whatever isalready awake.

 Yeah, but I dont think we should encourage it.

 Brianna poked the side of the tarp with one bare foot. Is he dead?

 Yes, honey. Brenda dropped to her knees and put her arms around the girl, forcing comfort out past what looked to be imminent hysterics. Hes dead.

 Really dead?

 Really most sincerely dead, Mason told her with exaggerated cheer. Hes the inconsequential character who dies in the first act so we all know the situation is serious.

 Thats not funny, snarled one of the grips. Tony thought his name was Saleen but he wasnt sure; the man had only been with CB Productions a few weeks.

 Mason snorted. His candle flame flickered. I wasnt joking.

 And its not even original!

 Fangs showed below Masons curled lip.

 Brianna poked the body again. So hes not going to get up?

 No, honey. Hes . . . Brenda paused. Frowned. Paled. Looked up at Tony.

 Who didnt understand the question. What?

 The G . . . H . . . O . . . S . . . T . . . S.

 Brianna rolled her eyes and ducked out of the circle of Brendas arms. I got an A in spelling. She wants to know if hes gonna come back as a ghost.

 Good question. I dont know.

 But you knew he was going to die! Brendas eyes showed white all the way around and, without Brianna to hold onto, she seemed to be having difficulty holding onto herself.

 I didnt . . .

 The finger she pointed at him was shaking. You tried to stop him!

 Yeah, because everything else that hit that window broke. It had seemed like a logical assumption. Well, maybe under the circumstanceslogical was the wrong word, but experience had taught him that the metaphysical followed rules just like everything else.

 All right. Fine. What do we do now?

 She looked a bit maniacal in the candlelight. At least Tony hoped it was the candlelight. Before he could come up with a less inflammatory way of sayingI have no fucking idea, Amy said, Silver.

 Hi ho, Mason muttered.

 On his eyes! Amy handed her candle to Zev and pulled off one of her rings. We lay silver on Toms eyes, she announced, twirling it so that it caught the light, and his spirit wont rise.

 Were the shadows gathering around the circle of candlelight growing darker?

 What a crock.

 Amys chin rose and pointed belligerently toward Mason. So lets hear your plan?

 Had Karls crying grown louder? Shriller?

 You mean something I didnt learn watching DVDs of theX-Files ?

 Bite me! Chris Carter was a surfer boy with delusions and this is valid old world ritual. She removed a second ring and knelt beside the tarp. Right, Tony?

 Were those footsteps in the library?

 Tony?

 He jumped as Lee touched his arm.Shouldnt he be back behind me a few more feet ?

 He moved, you idiot.

 And everyone was looking at him again. Great.

 Across the body, Zev frowned. You okay?

 Yeah. Just. . . Just never mind. Things were bad enough without him adding another two cents worth. I think its a good idea. The silver. Amy knows about shit like this. That. You know.

 Masons turn to roll his eyes. How articulate.

 Youre not helping, Peter told him quietly. Amy, go ahead.

 You know what would be cool? Ashley said as Amys hand closed around the edge of the tarp. If, when she opened that up, if Tom opened his eyes. Really wide.

 Amy froze. Everyone in the room considered it.

 The silence grew weighted with the possibility.

 The hair on the back of Tonys neck lifted as the build of emotion began to escalate into something else. Something they probably wouldnt want to spend the night locked in With. Or more accurately, somethingelse they wouldnt want to spend the night locked in with.

 Didnt we do the eyes thing in episode six? he asked, his voice awkwardly loud. And again in episode eleven?

 Clich, Sorge agreed. I say so then.

 It was a perfectly valid way to up the emotional stakes, Peter protested in the weary tone of one who had protested before.

 The cinematographer dug his thumbnail into the soft wax at the top of his candle. Maybe the first time.

 The second time, it didnt really happen, Peter reminded him. It was all in Lees head. In James Taylor Grants head, anyway.

 And we were therewhy?

 We were wherewhy? And in the same breath. Brianna, stop poking the body!

 Why in James Taylor Grants head?

 You know why; because he was imagining things!

 No. Sorge shook his head. Still doesnt work for me.

 It was six episodes ago!

 Also eleven episodes ago.

 So youve had time to get over it.

 Still. . .

 Oh, for crying out loud. Amy flipped back a corner of the tarp and quickly laid a ring on each of Toms closed eyes.

 Tony released a breath he couldnt remember holding as she covered the body again. A small sound by his right side. He turned his head just far enough to see Lee give him a quick thumbs-up, understanding that nothing defused tensions like rehashing creative differences for the seven thousandth time.

 Then Lees gesture continued until both his hands were clapped over his ears. Mouse grunted. Kate swore. Tony fought the urge to do all three and settled on gritting his teeth as every muscle in his body tensed. The lights came up and Karls screamswhich he realized now had stopped for a few moments, leaving the background under Sorge and Peters argument empty of soundbecame shrieks of panic and pain.

 Fortunately, it had been a large fire and a small baby.

 The faint, distant sound of a womans voice singing nursery rhymes grew more distinct as the shrieking stopped, but he seemed to be the only one who could hear her and even he lost the thread of the song under Briannas shrill demands to be let go.

 I want to go see the baby!

 She fought against Zevs grip, driving her fists into his shoulders, but he had her held too closely for her to put much force behind the blows. And too closely for her to use her feet, Tony noted. Smart guy, given that he was on his knees. Tony doubted he had a cup on under his jeans. At least he never had while they were dating.

 Let go! Let go! Let go!

 Zev murmured something against her hair that Tony didnt catch.

 Cause Tony said it was way gross and I want to see!

 Both brows rose, but he quickly schooled his expression and brought her face around until he could stare deep into her eyes, his tone calm and reassuring. Its not real, you know. Its just bits left over from a long time ago.

 She sniffed and stopped fighting him. Like television?

 Just like television. The house recorded what happened and now its playing it back.

 Trying to fool us and make us think its real?

 Thats right.

 But we know its not real.

 Yes, we do.

 Shoulders squared and chins-lifted among the listening adults. Out of the mouths of babestheyknew it wasnt real.

 Stupid house.

 No argument from me. When she answered his smile with one of her own, Zev stood, scooping her up and settling her weight on one hip. Lets get out of here. For the benefit of the others in the room, his gaze flicked down to the body and back up again.

 Tonys heart stopped at the sight of a red-brown streak across Zevs cheek and then started beating again when he realized it had been left by some of the fake blood still in Briannas hair.No way. We dont lose Zev. Or Amy. Or . . . Fuck. Who says I get to choose. And even thinking about choosing put him in a Meryl Streep space hed just as soon not have visited.

 Leaving is a good idea. Amy, now holding her candle and Zevs, started for the foyer.

 How had the foyer become their safe place? Because theyd spent more time shooting in it and it had become familiar? Because it was a big empty space with fewer nooks and crannies for the weird to hide out in? Maybe because it was the last place things had been normal. Or what passed for normal during the long, over caffeinated hours of television production.

 Mason? Ashley tugged on the actors tuxedo jacket. Are you okay?

 Fine. Im fine. Just a headache.

 It had to be one hell of a headache, Tony conceded, because when Ashley took hold of his hand, Masons fingers closed around hers almost gratefully.

 Our contract says no smoking in the house, Peter told him as he followed the actor and the little girl out of the drawing room. So if you feel the need to light up . . .

 Thats not it!

 It was something, though. Mason wasnt a good enough actor to entirely smooth out the ragged edges in his voice.

 Are we just going to leave him here? Lee asked, pausing by the tarp and Toms body.

 Tony shrugged. If he wants to join us, he knows the way.

 Thats . . . ghoulish. One corner of Lees mouth curled up. This is me not laughing. Do you think he will?

 No. If Amys rings dont work, and if I actually understand what the fuck is going on, he should just keep running into the window over and over.

 One show and then immediately into reruns.

 Yeah, doesnt take much to go into syndication around here.

 Still not laughing. Although he sounded close.

 Me either. It felt so strangely right, standing there, together, staring down at the first casualty, making the kind of bad jokes that guys made when things got dangerously whacked, that Tony began to get just a little freaked. Fortunately, he had an easy out. Brendas waiting for you.

 Brenda was standing by the door, doing a Lady Macbeth with her hands. Next to her stood Saleen who had the only candle still in the drawing room and was clearly waiting for the three stragglers to leave. Just as clearly as Brenda was waiting for Lee.

 Lee said nothing for a long moment although Tony had the feeling things were being said just beyond the range of his hearing. Like Lee was talking at a level only dogs could hear. Or something. Then he snorted, sounding almost amused, and crossed to tuck Brenda up against his side. While she didnt exactly relax, the time frame extended on her obvious air of Im five minutes from a total breakdown.

 Move your ass, Saleen snarled at Tony standing alone by the corpse.

 Was it his imagination or had Karls crying picked up a mocking undertone?

 With half a dozen candles burning and light reflecting off the polished floor and the high gloss on the wood paneling, the hall was almost welcomingwhere almost referred to it as good as it got while trapped inside a homicidal house.

 Tina stood by the inside door, shining her flashlight beam down into the entry. Everetts still breathing, but he doesnt look good.

 Hes never looked that good to me, Mason muttered. Oh, come off it, he continued over half a dozen protests. It was the perfect straight line; everyone was thinking it.

 Most of the men, and Amy, nodded.

 I dont like that hes been in there so long. Tina brought her left wrist up closer to her face and frowned. Damn, my watch isnt working. What time is it?

 No ones watch was workingalthough the hands and numbers on Amys were still glowing in the dark.

 What difference does that make if its not telling time? Adam asked her.

 She shrugged. Its comforting.

 So what do we do now, eh? Hartley asked, shifting his height from heel to toe, arms wrapped around his torso.

 We survive until morning, Peter announced in the same no-nonsense tone hed use to call for quiet on the set. All of us.

 All the rest of us, someone said. Tony thought it might have been Pavin, the sound tech, but he wasnt sure.

 Yeah, and we stop listening tohim ! That was definitely Kate. Arms folded in the more aggressive version of Hartleys position, she glared at Tony. If it wasnt for his stupid idea of throwing stuff through those windows, Tom would still be alive!

 A little stunned by the accusation, it took Tony a moment to find the words. I never said he should throw himself through!

 Your idea to go into that room, so you put him in there. Your idea to throw stuff, so you planted the seed in a desperate man.

 Seed? What seed? And he didnt seem desperate to me.

 Youre not denying it, then!

 What? Oh, crap. He hadnt. He hadnt thought he needed to, but from all the creased brows and narrowed eyes, it looked like Kate wasnt the only one who thought he was responsible for Toms death.Some of us will go crazy and kill the rest. Great. And guess which list Im on. As Kate stepped forward, he took an involuntary step back.So Im thinking its too late for us to become friends. As Mouse joined her, he stepped back again. And once more for luck.

 Leave him be, Kate.

 Mouse was on his side?

 Cant blame Tony for Toms death. Might as well blame Lee for going into the room first.

 The narrowed eyes and creased brows fixed on Lee.

 Or Ashley for throwing the dish.

 Creases began smoothing out. No one in the crew could blame a little girl. Or more specifically, theyd learned there was no percentage in blaming CBs daughtereven for things she was guilty of.

 Or me for throwing the chair.

 And that killed the accusation cold. Tony was relieved to see that no one was suicidal enough yet to throw accusations at a man capable of bench-pressing a Buick.

 In the awkward silence that followed, Tina picked up Everetts makeup case and carried it over to where Brenda and Lee were standing. Brenda, why dont we get the girls makeup off?

 Im wardrobe.

 So youre saying you cant do it?

 No, I just. . . I mean . . . Fine. She pulled away from Lee so reluctantly Tony almost heard duct tape releasing. Brianna, youre messier, so you should . . . Brianna?

 Cheese! Ashley reached past Zev and grabbed her sisters shoulder, shaking animation back into her face.

 Zev gently but firmly separated them and then knelt. What is it, Bri?

 The babys stopped crying.

 But thats good, right?

 She frowned. I dont think so.

 Neither did Tony. Previously, when Karl stopped crying, it signaled the beginning of a flashback. Cassie and Stephen, Karls own death . . .

 The lights in the hall came on. There was furniturea couple of high-back chairs, a half-moon table with a vase of white tulips, an Oriental rug.

 And Tony was alone.

 Except for whoever was screaming, Charles, dont! up on the second floor.

 The second floor still seemed to be in darkness, so whatever was going to happen was going to happen out here.

 And there they were.

 Ladies and gentlemen, if I could direct your attention to the top the stairs.Charles was wearing a uniform. The woman with him wore a gray suitsnug, tailored, and obviously expensive. Tony didnt know much about womens fashions, but it looked like the one Madonna wore inEvita. Charles had his hands wrapped around her upper arms and was moving her slowly backward. She was crying, begging him to stop, but he almost seemed not to hear her, his face terrifyingly blank.

 Thats great. I can hear her and he cant?

 Crap. Hes going to throw her down the stairs. Knowing it was futile, Tony ran for the stairs anyway.

 But they descended two, three, four steps down the long staircase and still no push.

 Charles stepped down so they were both standing on the fifth step. You want to hang around with yourfriends while Im gone, he said quietly, emphasis making the gender of the friends clear, you go right ahead. Then he lifted her and slammed her onto one half of the rack of antlers hanging on the wall. Fabric tore and the longest prong emerged out through the front of the gray suit.

 Okay, Ill believe that madness gave him strength, Tony protested, to the house, to the ghosts, to keep from screaming, but theres no way those antlers would stay on the wall with a full-grown womaneven a short onehanging off them!

 Which was when the antlers came off the wall and bounced down the stairs, the gurgling, thrashing woman still attached. Tony glanced down as Charles did to see that shed come to a twitching stop halfway through his legs.

 Fuck, fuck, FUCK! He danced back.

 Stopped dancing in time to see the big finish to Charles dive over the banister. Heads really did sound like melons splitting. The Foley guys would be pleased.

 The lights went out. Became candlelight again.

 And he was no longer alone.

 Stop staring at me, he muttered trying to catch his breath.

 They think youve gone crazy.

 Jesus fucking Christ! He jumped back as Stephen and Cassie appeared suddenly in front of him.

 And thats not helping, Stephen pointed out.

 Thanks. No shit. Where the hell have you two been?

 It took us a while to manifest again after we died and then were stuck in the bathroom while the others take their turn.

 The siblings were just translucent enough for Tony to see that no one had, in fact, stopped staring.

 Some of them would go crazy and kill the rest.

 Lunatic.

 Or victim.

 Now, he might be reading too much into expressions he could barely seegiven the ghosts and the candlelight and allbut it seemed as though everyone had changed their mind about which description best suited him.

 Chapter Seven

 ?? ?

 IM NOT CRAZY.

 Youre reacting to things that only you can see, and youre talking to nobody.

 Im reacting to old murders being replayed, and Im talking to Stephen and Cassie. Tony jerked his head toward the brother and sister. Stephen was watching the exchange with some interest, but Cassies gaze flicked all around the hallher single eye working overtime to cover the whole area while both her hands clutched at the translucent fabric of her skirt. Given that shed been brutally murdered years before and had apparently relived the incident numerous times since, he wondered just what remained for her to be uneasy about. Whats the matter?

 Shes listening for the music, Stephen answered when his sister didnt. The ballroom creeps her out.

 Youre talking to ghosts, Zev sighed.

 Yeah.

 And that doesnt sound crazy to you?

 Zev . . .

 Im not saying its not all truemy personal beliefs to the contrary, weird shit is definitely happening here tonightbut you have to admit it sounds crazy.

 Hes right.

 Shut up, Stephen! Tony turned to glare at the ghost as Zevs reassuring smile tightened.

 Case in point.

 Tony ran a hand up through his hair. He hadnt exactly been ostracized since his reaction to the last reenactment, but everyone seemed uncomfortable having him too close, forcing him out toward the edges of the light.

 In situations like this . . .

 And that was certainly using the phrase like this in its loosest sense.

 . . . people look for someone to blame. Youre setting yourself up to be that someone. Zev closed his hand around Tonys arm and squeezed gently. You know you are.

 Yeah, and I also know I cant not tell you guys whats going on. In a situationlike this . . . Okay, maybe Zev was trying to help and maybe the sarcastic emphasis wasnt entirely called for. So what. . . . I cant be the one who decides whats important information and whats not. Not when nineteen . . . eighteen lives are at stake.

 Seventeen.

 Everetts still alive. Suddenly unsure, he glanced over at Cassie who nodded. Yeah, still alive. Eighteen.

 Im not disagreeing with you, Tony, Im just . . .He paused and sighed again, his grip on Tonys arm tightening. Im just saying you should be careful. Emotions are fraying.

 Hes right.

 Cassie agrees with you.

 Zev nodded at the space to Tonys right. Thank you.

 Tony pointed left. Shes over there.

 Stop it! Stop it now! Briannas protest rose up and over and temporarily obliterated Karls crying. As Tony turned, he noticed everyones attention locking on CBs younger daughter, grateful for the distraction. Youre pulling!

 Fine. Brenda stepped back, lip curling. Then well just leave your hair like it is.

 No! I want it braided!

 Then you have to hold still.

 I wont! Not for you! You suck!

 No . . . The pause went on just long enough that everyone leaned forward slightly, waiting for Brendas response. . . . you suck!

 Briannas chin lifted and her eyes narrowed. No, you! And Im telling my father you didnt take care of me!

 Dont tempt me! The wardrobe supervisor held up her right hand, finger and thumb barely apart. Im this close to taking care of you!

 Zev released Tonys arm. I think Id better get over there before Brianna gets strangled.

 Dont hurry.

 Give the kid a break, shes just scared and acting out.

 I guess. Although it didnt look like any definition of scared Tonyd ever seen. Not unless shed been scared eighty percent of the time shed ever been at the studio. I never knew you were so good with kids.

 Yeah, well . . . He turned back just far enough for Tony to see a dark brow rise.. . . we werent together long enough for you to find out.

 Zing and ouch! Amy stepped into the space Zev had vacated and they watched him cross to Briannas side, taking the blue plastic comb from Brendas hand as he passed. This is why you should never date someone from work.

 No surprise that she conveniently ignored having encouraged them both. Should you be standing here? Arent you afraid Ill finish going crazy and kill you?

 Because youre seeing ectoplasmic manifestations? She snorted. Man, Id love to see a ghost. What do they look like?

 I dont know . . . He shrugged and took another look. . . . dead. Cassies missing a chunk of her head, and Stephens neck has been hacked into. Their clothes are covered in blood and . . .

 And what?

 Nothing. Hed just realized that Stephen wasnt wearing pants under the bloodstained shirtwith all the blood and them being ax murdered and, well, dead, hed never noticed it before. They were both watching him when he lifted his eyes off Stephens bare legs. Hey. He spread his hands. None of my business.

 Amy looked in the same direction and frowned. What? she demanded, repeating the question again, significantly louder, when Tony didnt immediately respond.

 With Brianna happily submitting to Zevs hairdressing, everyone now snapped their attention around to Amy.

 Were just talking, she sighed. Get a collective life.

 Not entirely a bad idea. Peter pushed himself away from the wall under the stairs and walked out to the center of the hall, visibly becoming the director as he moved. Listen up, people, its going to be a long night if we just sit here, so lets try and come up with something a little more proactive.

 No one spoke.

 You could kill yourselves now. Then you wouldnt have to wait for bad stuff to happen.

 No one except Stephen. Tony decided not to pass his observation on.

 Anyone? Peter pivoted on one heel. Adam? Tina? Sorge? With two shrugs and a nontranslatable mumble as a response, he threw up his arms. Oh, for Gods sake, we create this kind of crap. If this was an episode ofDarkest Night, how would we resolve it?

 If this was an episode ofDarkest Night , Amy snorted, wed all be red-shirts. Well, except for Mason and Leebecause theyve got to be back next week and probably the kids since the last one of us standing sacrificed him or herself to save them. The only sure thing about this many people trapped in a haunted house is that the body count is going to be high. She swept a disdainful gaze around at her silent audience. What? You know thats the way it would go down.

 All right, fine. Maybe, Peter snapped, over the chorus of muttered acknowledgments. And now youve made your point, lets rewrite the script in such a way that we all survive.

 Oh, arewrite . You shouldve said. I think . . . Black-and-magenta-tipped fingers tapped her chest somewhere around Hello Kittys left ear. . . . that if theres a thing in the house attempting to collect us, we should destroy it, thus freeing the ghosts and ourselves.

 New silence. Speculative this time. Tony was amazed that no one said anything about thethus. He, personally, was standing too close to comment safely.

 That sounds . . . simple enough, Adam admitted after a long moment.

 Too simple, Saleen scoffed.

 What? It cant be simple?

 The grip pointedly folded muscular arms. If its been around since before the house was built, how do we destroy it? And how do we even find it.

 Its in the basement, Tony and Stephen said simultaneously. The caretaker warned me away from the stairs, Tony continued on his own as Stephen made fine, go ahead if youre so smart faces. And when I touched the doorknob, it gave me a shock.

 Oooo, a shock. Saleen recoiled in mock horror.

 Tony ignored him; so far thered been plenty of real horror to pay attention to. The shock made a weird mark on my hand.

 So lets see it, Amy demanded, grabbing his wrist.

 Other hand. And its gone now.

 Convenient. Saleen again. He was rapidly working through the goodwill hed built up by waiting in the drawing room with the candle. Not that it much mattered, given he was almost as big as Mouse.

 What kind of mark, Tony? Peter asked, brow furrowed.

 I dont know.

 Big surprise. And a change in the chorus as Saleen handed off to Kate.

 So. Ashley moved out of Masons shadow, stepped to Peters side and folded her arms, sweeping the group with an expression eerily reminiscent of her father. Lets go to the basement and kick ass!

 Adam joined her. Works for me.

 No. Kate shook her head as she stood. Do you really want to go face-to-face . . .

 It has a face? Amy asked him. Tony shrugged.

 . . . with something that makes people kill each other from a distance? You dont know what its capable of up close!

 Saleen moved to stand by Adam. Only one way to find out.

 Fine. Tina took Ashleys hand and pulled her away from the two men. But the girls arent going.

 Ashleys struggles only proved what almost everyone else in the room already knew. When Tina made up her mind, she couldnt be moved. Figuratively. Physically. But it was my idea!

 I dont care. Tinas tone challenged and went unopposed. The girls and I are staying here. I dont want to leave Everett alone again.

 Brianna seemed to be considering making a run for it but settled as Zevs hand closed on her shoulder. Okay, fine, but if I have to stay with Ashes, Zev has to stay with me.

 Then Masons staying with me. Still held securely by Tinas side, Ashley reached out her other hand and grabbed Masons jacket.

 Masons . . .

 No, thats all right. Mason twitched his jacket free but moved close enough so that Ashley could tuck her hand in his elbow. If she needs me, Ill stay.

 Tony could almost hear responses to that considered and discarded.

 All right, then, Adam declared, squaring his shoulders. Who else is coming?

 Im not going near the basement. Brendas hands were back to performing a full-out Lady Macbeth as Sorge joined the other two men.

 Too obvious, Mouse muttered.

 Hes right. Kate moved closer to her cameraman. Why would it let us know where it is?

 Why would it care? Saleen demanded.

 Maybe it doesnt care if we know where it is because it wants us to face it, Pavin said, getting to his feet. Tony wondered if the sound tech had always had that slight twitch. Was it endemic to the sound department? Although Hartleys twitch wasnt exactly slight. . . It wants us down there in the wet with the wires, Pavin continued. Old, frayed, cloth-wrapped wires. And then, when were all standing knee-deep in the flood, itll turn the power back on and drop a wire in the water because if it can close the doors it can surely do that, and well all be electrocuted. Or one of usll snap and pull the wire into the water, and well all be electrocuted. You know how you die when that happens? Soup.

 And that pretty much killed the charge to the basement.

 Okay, Amy said after a long moment of soup-filled silence. Then we protect ourselves here.

 Wouldnt moving into an actual room make more sense? Tony asked.

 In there with Tom? Kate snapped, glaring at him.

 Tinas glare was less personal but more potent for all that. Imnot leaving Everett.

 Guess not.

 We need salt. Lots of salt. Amy drew a vaguely circular shape in the air. We draw a circle of salt around us and the evil cant get in.

 Tony was about to point out that, first of all, he didnt think the evil wanted in and, secondly, if it was permeating the house, it was kind of a moot point since inside the circle would be as much a part of the house as outside the circle when he realized the salt might calm a few fears and calm was a good thing. Hed be willing to bet that very few people went crazy calmly. I saw some salt in the kitchen.

 He was starting to get used to the staring.

 You want me to go get it, dont you?

 Not alone, Kate muttered, brows drawn into a deep vee. I dont trust you alone.

 No one goes anywhere alone, Peter amended pointedly. Its not safe. Someone has to go with you.

 And a whole new silence descended.

 Me!

 Me, too!

 Neither of you, Tina informed the sisters, who shuffled and muttered but obeyed.

 Oh, for . . . Amy rolled her eyes with enough emphasis the gesture was visible even in the candlelight. Ill go.

 No. Peter was as adamant as Tina had been. You know whats happening . . .

 Hang on. Tony frowned.He knew what was happening. Amy just spent a lot of time on web sites called creepycrap.com.

 . . . you have to stay here.

 He didnt much like the implication they could afford to lose him but not Amy. Not that he wanted to lose Amy, but he didnt much like the idea of losinghim either.

 Ill go with him.

 Lee. It was the first thing hed said since theyd left the drawing room, and Tony turned to stare at him in surprise.

 Lee, no . . .

 The expected protest from Brenda, but why the hell were Zevs eyebrows up?

 Look, someones got to go and if Lees willing, fine. Peter waved down further protests. Well get nothing accomplished if we stand around arguing all night. Tina, lend Lee your flashlight.

 And what? I can see in the dark?

 I dont know. She pulled it from her pocket and peered down at the purple plastic. Its looking dimmer . . .

 That doesnt matter. They cant walk and keep a candle lit.

 A valid point, but if the flashlights batteries died, theyd be screwed, and given the way other batteries had been lasting . . . or not lasting . . . Maybe we should take a candle anyway, just in case.

 NO!

 Multiple voices, all unthrilled about the prospect of a night spent trapped in the dark.



 The kitchen seemed farther away than it had been barely hours earlier. The flashlight was definitely dimmer, the circle of light Lee kept pointed at the floor in front of them almost a brownish yellowlike a dirty headlight. They were walking close togetherfor comfort, for security, Tony had no idea whyand the sleeve of Lees tuxedo jacket kept brushing against his bare arm, lifting the hair on the back of his neck, then taking a direct route to his groin.

 His whole body remembered the feel of the other man sprawled beneath him in the kitchen.

 Heres a thought, you pathetic geek, try to act like a mature adult in a dangerous situation instead of a horny fifteen year old.

 This reminds me of a job I had in high school, Lee said quietly, sweeping the flashlight beam up one wall, across the ceiling, and down the other. I worked with the animal control guy clearing raccoons out of cottages in the spring.

 Tony glanced at the actor and snickered. You worked in tuxedos?

 Only if we had a formal complaint.

 That got the groan it deserved.

 Back behind them, he could hear another argument starting up in the hall, but although he could tell it was an argument from the volume, he couldnt make out any actual words. They hadnt gone that far. He should have been able to hear words.

 Their footsteps sounded strangely muffled, like the hardwood was absorbing the sound.

 Yeah. Strangelylike that should come as a shock.

 He felt like he should say something, discuss the situation, maybe bat around a few ideas for getting them the hell out of there, but he couldnt think of a thing to say that hadnt already been said.

 So, you and Zev arent seeing each other anymore?

 Okay. That was unexpected. Uh, no. We . . . uh . . arent.

 But youre still friends.

 Sure. Not a question, but he answered it anyway.

 How do you guys do that; stay friends? I mean, if a man breaks up with a woman, they dont slide immediately back into friendship afterward.

 Tony snorted. Are they usually friends before?

 Not usually, no. Lee sounded a bit rueful. But you and Zev; I see you guys together and . . .

 Is that a problem? Tony asked when the sentence continued to dangle.

 What? No, of course not. Like you said: two consenting adults, none of my business.

 Had he said that? Oh, right, about Brenda. Who was not Lees friend.

 And you are?

 Ah, butImnot fucking him .

 He was still trying to figure out just what he meant by that and whether his answer had any relevance at all to his question when the light went out.

 The jacket sleeve stopped stroking his arm as they froze in place.

 The muted clicking was less than comforting as Lee turned the flashlight on and off. Finally: I think the batterys dead.

 The darkness was so complete it had weight and wrapped around them like a heavy blanket. Eyes open, eyes closed, it made no difference.

 This could be a problem.

 You think?

 Theres a couple of lanterns and some matches in the cupboard in the conservatory.

 A third voice.

 Jesus fucking Christ! Heart in his throat, Tony whirled around, stumbling into Lee who reached out blindly, caught his arm, and steadied him. Cassie looked as sheepish as possible, given she was barely a pale gray sketch on the air. Stephen, equally translucent, shrugged not at all apologetically. You followed us!

 We came with you, Stephen amended.

 Theres no point in staying with the others, Cassie said reasonably. They cant see or hear us and theyre boring.

 Which was when Tony realized she wasnt looking at him but staring at Lee with the kind of besotted expression he was only too familiar withexcept it usually came with two eyes and an entire head.

 They followed us? Lee repeated.

 They did.

 The ghosts?

 Yeah. They think the others are boring. They say theres lanterns and matches in the conservatory.

 Stephen nodded and adjusted his head. Graham found them one day when he was snooping around.

 Caretaking, Cassie corrected archly.

 Yes, well, he found them. He left them there.

 Then all we have to do is find the conservatory, Lee said before Tony could ask just what exactly Graham had been snooping around for, had he found it, and was it likely to now bite them on the ass.

 Ill take you! Cassie wafted past.

 Only Tony can see you, Stephen muttered as he followed. She thinks hes cute, he added as he drew even with Tonys ear. Shes the one who painted his butt.

 I figured. You okay with that? A jealous brother would be such fun under the circumstances. Particularly given how close the siblings werehad been.

 Why should I care?

 Tony decided not to mention the whole lack of pants thing. He ran his hand down Lees arm, found his handIm at the end of his arm? What else was I expecting to find?and tucked it into the crock of his elbow. All I can see is the ghosts, but Im assuming they can see the house, so Ill follow them and you stick with me.

 Lees fingers tightened, just for an instant, then loosened to minimal contact he no doubt felt was required when a straight man touched a gay man.

 And that was minimal contact on the floor in the kitchen?

 Shut up!

 He didnt need the house to drive him crazy, he was doing a fine job all on his own. With any luck, mass murder wasnt next after inappropriate sexual fantasies and self-chastisement. Verbal self-chastisement. Not the physical kind.

 If his sense of distance had seemed off before, it was totally screwed now as he followed the pair of pale forms through total darkness. His feet never entirely left the floor, the soles of his running shoes sliding over the hardwood with a series of soft squeaks as treads scraped urethane. Lees dress shoes made an answering shush-shush that seemed to indicate he also intended to remain grounded. Given the total lack of light and their lack of planning in not being in contact with a wall when the light went out, the floor underfoot was all they had to be sure of.

 Tony was beginning to think that they should have arrivedsomewhere and was beginning to worry that they hadnt when the hard/soft crash of body slamming into an opened door derailed his train of thought. The impact jerked Lees hand off his arm.

 Son of a fucking . . .

 Lee? He grabbed for the other man. As his fingers closed around familiar fabric, he started breathing again.

 I seem to have found the kitchen. The wet velvet voice sounded rougher than usual. Or at least the kitchen door.

 Is he hurt? Cassie drifted in close and stared up at where Lee had to be.

 Too bad they dont actually throw enough light to be useful.

 Stephen shot his sister an exasperated eye roll. Dont worry, hes fine.

 Yeah, dead guys walking around were great judgesof fine . Are you okay?

 I think so. Although if Ive given myself a black eye, tomorrows shoot will be interesting.

 Tomorrows shoot.He thinks well get out of this .

 Of course he does, hes in the credits. The guys in the credits always survive.

 Maintaining his grip on Lees jacket, Tony reached out with his other hand and defined the rest of the kitchen door. If we turn left here, the conservatorys about seven or eight meters straight ahead. If I keep my hand on the wall, well know when we arrive and avoid falling down those three steps.

 Id have told you about the steps, Cassie murmured. And were sorry about the door.

 Why was that our fault? Stephen demanded.

 And that was the peanut gallery heard from. Lee?

 The arm inside Lees jacket had no give to it, the muscles tensed, the joints locked. Tony, I dont hear the baby anymore.

 Now it had been brought to his attention, he couldnt remember having heard Karl the entire time theyd been standing in the kitchen doorway.

 The lights came up and Tony was all alone. He moved his hand before he thought to wonder if he was still in real-world contact with Lee.Stupid, fucking . . . Lee, I know you can hear meIm in another replay. Ive got lights now, so Ill walk to the conservatory and the cupboard and wait there until the replay stops. Stephen and Cassie are stuck in the bathroom for the duration and you cant see me to follow, so stay right where you are. Dont move. Ill come back with the lanterns as fast as I can. He tried to sound reassuring, but the scream from the conservatory distracted him a bit.

 By the time he covered the seven meters, the gardener he assumed it was the gardener given the location and the overallswas lying on his back on an old wooden bench while an elderly woman in a dark brown dress and sensible shoes sawed off his right leg. From the way he was twitching, Tony didnt think he was dead. When she got through to the bone, she switched to a hatchet.

 Good solid swing considering her age.

 Right leg. Left leg. Left arm. Each piecethankfullyremoved much faster than real time. As she hacked through each bone in turn, the sound was a lot less brittle than Tony had expected. He made a mental note to mention it to the sound guys. CB didnt want to pay for his own Foley studio, so they usually bought what they needed from independent artists. None of them had quite gotten the wet crunch right.

 The extended dismemberment should have upset him more than it did. Maybe hed become desensitized by the parade of axes and burning babies and antlers. Maybe the past had lost its ability to affect him, given that in the present a person he actually knew was dead and he and another seventeen were in danger of dying. Maybe the whole old lady sawing and hacking thing was just so over the top, he found it difficult to believe it was real and, frankly, hed seen blood done better. Spurting arteries were unfortunately forever tied to Monty Python marathons on Comedy Central. Whatever the reason, he found he was standing, arms crossed, drumming his fingers on his elbow and wishing shed hurry the hell up.

 He almost cheered as the head finally came offbut no, now she had to bury the pieces. One piece in each of the raised beds.

 Damn. That extracould have felt fingers. Sure, there was no way that the actual hand remained buried in the dirt, but since metaphysical action was still going on . . .

 And on.

 He sighed and leaned against the cupboard.

 Grunting a little with the effort, she dropped the gardeners head into the large urn in the middle of the room. Tony frowned at the muffled squelch. Hadnt he ended up with an extra background player when hed done the final head count around that urn this morning? An extra head in the head count. Cute. A malevolent thing with a sense of humorlike that made it so much better.

 Then the old woman was suddenly at the cupboard, reaching through him for the handle. He jerked to one side, far enough to get free of her arm but not so far he couldnt scan the shelves. No lanterns, not in this time, but that didnt matter as long as they were there when he got back to the present.

 There was, however, a brand new box of rat poison.

 She ripped open the little cardboard spout and tipped a generous portion into her mouth.

 Modern rat poison contained warfarina blood thinner. The rats ate the bait, scuttled into the walls, and bled to death internally. It was a slow, painful, terrifying way to die. Emphasis on slowwhich was why Tony even knew about it. The writers had wanted to use rat poison to deal with the crimedu jour in episode eleven but had ditched the idea when they found out how long it would take. Pre-warfarin, the active ingredient depended on the brand of the rat poison but throughout most of rural Canada arsenic-of-lead predominated.

 Eyes so wide bloodshot white showed all the way around pale brown irises, the old woman swallowed a second mouthful.

 And then forced down a third.

 Teeth clenched so tightly Tony could see a muscle jump in her jaw, she managed to keep all three down as she walked back to the bench and sat primly down on the blood-soaked wood, knees together, feet crossed at the ankles.

 Tony had no way of telling how long after that the vomiting blood began, but once started, it continued for some time. Continued until the old lady was lying in a puddle of her blood and the gardeners combined, protruding tongue white, skin faintly blue. Her open eyes were staring directly at him and for a moment, just before she died, she frowned slightlyalmost as if she could see him standing there.

 Andthat was the most frightening thing hed seen so far.

 Then it was dark. Dark and completely silent. He couldnt hear the rain on the glass, but whether that was because it had stopped raining or the house prevented the sound from entering he had no idea. Half afraid he could still feel the old ladys eyes on him, he fumbled for the clasp of the cupboard as Karl started crying again.

 How weird that the sound of a baby in a fire was comforting?

 Pretty damned weird actually.

 Tony?

 Lees voice much, much closer than the kitchen. He shrieked as fingers stubbed up against him.

 It was taking so long. I, uh . . . I got worried about you, so I followed the wall. And except for the desperate way he clutched at Tonys arm, hed have sold it. Did I startle you?

 Startle me? I almost fucking pissed myself!

 Way too much information. The chuckle was slightly strained but, still, an award-winning performance considering he was leaving bruises.

 Tony was just as happy to have the contact maintainedand for a change the thought of Lee touching him in no way evoked a sexual response. Or at least not much of one. It was actually kind of encouraging that his dick was taking a mild interest since, mere moments before, terror had driven his balls up to sit on his shoulder.

 Cupboard open, he found something that felt like he thought he remembered lanterns looked on the top shelf. Carefully holding the round middle section, he shook it gently. Liquid sloshed.

 Kerosene? Lee asked.

 Lets hope so.

 His other hand finger-walked along the shelf until he touched a greasy box. It rattled when he nudged it. I think I found the matches.

 He had a lantern in one hand. He had matches in the other. Time passed.

 This chuckle sounded legitimate. You have no idea of what to do, do you?

 Yeah, well, lanternsnot so big in my life.

 Never a Boy Scout?

 No. He tired to keep the disdain from sounding in his voice and didnt quite manage it. Back when he was on the street, hed had a scoutmaster among his regulars. Every week, like clockwork, after his scout meeting . . .

 Lucky for you, I was. Dont move. The grip on Tonys arm moved down to his hand and then up the lantern. Glass clinked against glass. Chimneys got to come off. Glass against wood as, still holding the lantern with one hand, Lee set the chimney in the cupboard with the other. Wick has to be turned down into the kerosene. His fingers brushed Tonys as he steadied the lantern. Youre holding the matches?

 Yeah.

 Okay. Bring that hand over . . . Got it. It took a moments tumbling to get the box open. Do you have your eyes closed?

 What?

 Its so dark, I just wondered . . .

 No. When he closed his eyes, he could see the old lady staring at him as she died. You?

 No.

 Tony thought about asking what Lee saw on the inside of his lids. Decided against it. Had a feeling, considering what had gone down last spring, he knew what the answer would be.

 Okay, the wicks damp. Lets light this sucker.

 The first match fizzed weakly but didnt catch.

 The second flared; a painfully bright, two-second orange-red point of light.

 Third time lucky.

 Since the only reply that occurred was Three men on a match, Tony kept his mouth shut.

 The third match caught and held. Cupped in Lees hand, it descended to a piece of cloth sticking up from the bottom of the lantern.

 And then there was light.

 He watched as Lee fiddled with a small metal wheel for a moment, put the top glass bit back on, and then he switched his grip to the wrapped wire handle. All right, then.

 Yeah. Lee visibly relaxed as he slid the box of matches into his pocket. Theres a second lantern, he said, lifting it out of the cupboard. And a two-liter can of kerosene thats barely been touched.

 And four mouse traps.

 And a box of rat poison.

 Foreshadowing,Tony sighed.The sign of quality horror flicks. Except this wasnt a movie, it was real life. He squinted at the packaging.

 Problem?

 Nope. It was a new box and if the doors opened at sunrise the house didnt have time for the warfarin to work. And how disturbing did life have to get forthat to be reassuring?

 Pretty damned disturbing.

 Tony? Lee? Adam. Not close. The 1AD had probably moved only as far as the edge of the candlelight since his voicea voice that could carry over half a dozen separate conversations, background construction noise, and a posse of hysterical Raymond Dark fanswas barely audible. What the hell. . . A few words got lost in the distance, making the whole thing eerily reminiscent of the problems with the walkie-talkies. . . . so long?

 Lee half turned, pulled around by the reminder that they werent alone. We need to get back.

 Yeah.

 They were halfway through the kitchen when Tony remembered what theyd originally come for. Salt.

 What?

 Amys protective circle.

 Right. Do you think she knows what shes talking about?

 I think it cant hurt.

 Lees answering expression was so carefully neutral it was obvious he heard the subtext. And just as obvious, he wasnt going to mention it. Hope was a fragile thing at the best of times and locked up in a psychotic house, it took a beating.

 Craft services had left a large box of small salt packets and other condiments on the counter by the door. Tony set the lantern down by the boxLee was carrying the spare and the keroseneand folded in the cardboard flaps. As he tucked it under his arm, three packets slid out and hit the floor. He bent to pick them up and froze. Son of a bitch.

 What?

 The cables running out of the generator hadnt been packed up before the doors slammed closed. He was so used to spending his working day stepping over and around a web of cable that it hadnt even occurred to him to question their continuing presence or how impossible it would be to close a door on them.Under the circumstances, maybe impossible isnt the right word. The cables ran up to the door and stopped. Tony grabbed one and pulled to no effect. They hadnt been severed. They just stopped. Theyre still going through the space, he muttered. When is a door not a door . . . ?

 When its a jar? Lees tone had distinct hints oflets humor the crazy man .

 When its a metaphysical construct.

 Say what?

 He sat back and glanced up at the actor. This door was created by the house to lock us in. The actual door is still open.

 Can we get out it? Lee frowned down at the point where the cables met the wood.

 Good question. Eyes closed to keep perception out of the equation, Tony ran his fist along the top of the cables and punched it out the space they had to be using. Ow. To give the house credit, that was onesolid metaphysical construct.

 Tony! Lee! Adam again. A little closer.

 Were on our way! We have to get back, Lee added, dropping his volume and nodding toward the salt. If we cant get out the door . . .

 Yeah. He rapped his knuckles against it again. Still felt solid. I guess. Listen, why dont you light the other lantern, take the salt, and go back to the others. Ill catch up. Theres something I want to try.

 Ill stay . . .

 Lee wanted to stay with him and he was sending him away. Maybe he should just tell him about the whole wizard thing. Which would lead to telling him about the whole shadow thing. Which would not be a good thing. No. Weve been gone so long theyve got to be getting a little freaked.

 Uh-huh.

 What the hell did that mean?Tony wondered as Lee set about lighting the other lantern.If you want to know, dipshit ask!

 Yeah, like that was going to happen.

 Lee tucked the box of salt under his arm, much as Tony had done. Dont take too long.

 That was it?

 Apparently.

 As Lee left the kitchen, Tony turned his attention back to the cables and attempted to clear his mind of everything but his immediate surroundings.

 He thinks Im a freak.

 And the longer they were stuck in this freak show of a house, the more evidence hed have to support that theory.

 So since this is our best way out, can we get on with it!

 The door was only a physical seeming of a door. It made sense that he couldnt put his hand through something physical. Visualizing the back porch and the bucket of sand that had been left there for the smokers, he raised his right palm toward the space he couldnt see and snapped out the seven words.

 Sixteen cigarette butts later, he stopped.

 Thats not normal.

 Pot, kettle, black, dead people. He sat back on his heels and tried to flick a butt back outside. It bounced off the door and hit him in the forehead. Okay. Hed proved something here. Wasnt sure what, but it might be useful later. Brushing his experimental data off his jeans, he stood and faced his own personal Greek chorus. What?

 I think thats our question, Stephen snorted. Whatare you?

 Why not. It wasnt like they could pass the information on.

 Im a wizard.

 Tony braced himself for the inevitable Harry Potter references.

 Cassie frowned. Like Merlin?

 And lets hear it for those who died before J. K. Rowling was born. Yeah, sort of.

 Stephen nodded down at the mess on the floor. Is that all you can do? he asked, realigning his head.

 So far. It wasnt all hed attempted, but it was all he could do with any certainty of success.

 It doesnt look very useful.

 Bite me.

 Pardon?

 Never mind. There were two unopened boxes of bottled water on the floor by the table. He set the lantern on top and carefully lifted them into his arms. It wouldnt hurt to bring back a bribe. How many more of those replays to go?

 Three. The ballroom, the drawing room, and the back stairs . . .

 Let me guess. He could still hear a faint creaking sound over Karls crying. Someone got pushed and the someone who did the pushing hung themselves.

 Isnt it hanged?

 Does it matter? The lanterns flame flickered as he passed the basement door. Had his hands not been full, he didnt think he could have resisted trying to lift the latch. Just as dead hanged or hung.

 Youre getting just a little blas about this, arent you? Cassie sounded almost insulted.

 He shrugged and cut the motion short as the lantern rocked. Theyre just recordings of past events. They cant hurt me.

 Maybe not you.

 Maybe not yet, Stephen added.

 Chapter Eight

 ?? ?

 ALL RIGHT, let me just make sure I understand this. Tony, your daughters, and sixteen people from your show, including both your lead actors, are trapped inside a haunted house. This man . . . Henry nodded toward Graham Brummel who lifted his beer in salute. . . . says the house contains a malevolence that feeds on the trapped dead and is looking to add our people to its buffet table. We cant get in, they cant get out, the windows have been blanked, and all phones are nonfunctional. All they have to do is survive until dawn, but the house will spend the night working on their fears, attempting to drive at least one of them insane enough to kill the rest. Is that it?

 CBs attention remained directed out the window at the roof of the house. Yes.

 Henry sighed and ran both hands back up through his hair. This isnt good.

 But you believe it?

 He turned to face the caretaker, one red-gold brow raised. Of course.

 Oh, for cryin out loud! Graham jumped to his feet and began to pace back and forth over the minimal floor space in front of his recliner. What is with you people? I mean, first the big guy, now you. How can you possibly buy into this kind of a cock-and-bull story?

 Isnt it true?

 Yeah, of course its true, but what difference does that make? Haunted houses. Malevolent things. You should be in deep denial. He kicked at a yellowing stack of tabloids as he paced. You should be making up something about how the doors all swelled in the rain and some weird air pressure thing is holding them closed and the rain is affecting the cell phone reception and you dont just calmlybelieve this kind of shit! I mean, if I tell you Im a medium, youre supposed to tell me Im a fake!

 Are you?

 No! But thats not the point. You two are really freaking me out! The mouth of the beer bottle jabbed toward CB. He was bad enough on his own. And back to point at Henry. You are seriously upping the weird stakes here, and given my life just generally, thats saying something.

 Henry stared at him for a long moment, contemplated dropping all masks just to see what would happen, and finally allowed his better nature to prevail. Im grateful you called me, he said at last, joining CB at the window, dismissing the other man entirely. But Im not sure what you expect me to do.

 Offer an experienced interpretation. Take advantage of any opening that lends itself to your . . . particular strengths. It also struck me that youre a little possessive and unlikely to allow the destruction of someone you consider to be yours.

 And if I find a way to get Tony out. . .

 My daughters, and my employees, will be freed as well.

 You guys have done this kind of thing before!

 Vampire and producer turned together.

 You have! Bloodshot eyes narrowed speculatively. You guys are like what? Some kind of otherworldly Starsky and Hutch?

 How many of those has he had? Henry asked nodding toward the bottle.

 Graham snorted before CB could respond. Oh, no, you cant blame the beer. I know how it is! Your show, the whole leading his people through the darkest night toward the dawn, its based on real life.

 CB blinked. Once. The show is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. When Henry glanced up at him, he shrugged and added, Usually.

 Before Graham could continuewhich he looked ready to doa pair of feet in work boots pounded up the stairs and a heavy fist banged out a three-beat rhythm on the door.

 CB? Boss? You better get out here; somethings happening!



 The cat tipped us off. It was sitting on the porch rail there and then it had a little freak-out.

 Cat? Henry glanced down at the black cat being soothed in Grahams arms. Thered been a black cat up in the apartment, stretched out along the back of the sofa. He hadnt seen it leave . . .

 I got two. Grahams tone suggested he was bored with the explanation. Same litter, eh. He shrugged, the cat riding the motion. I named them both Shadow since they dont come when I call.

 Whatwas the cat reacting to? CB snarled as attention shifted to the cat.

 Sorry, Boss. And attention shifted around again within the crowded shelter of the back porch. That. Ujjal pointed at the empty butt bucket. There was a good pack and a half in there before, but one by one they just up and whooshed through the door.

 Whooshed?

 Well, they didnt make the whoosh noise or anything, but yeah. The genny op shrugged, fully aware of how the story sounded. It was like something on the other side of the door was pulling them in.

 When CB raised an eyebrow in Henrys direction, Henry nodded. Tony could call the butts from the bucket to his hand. Therefore, until another explanation presented itself, he was going to believe this had been Tony. But this was the first Henryd ever heard of him moving them through a closed . . . The cables. When all eyes turned to stare blankly at him, he pointed. Look at the cables. The whole bundle is still running into the house.

 A couple of heads nodded, but they were clearly continuing to miss the point. Cables were like background noise for this lot.

 The door is closed . . . He frowned, thinking out loud. The cables are running through a closed door, except thats impossible, so the space they were running through must remain regardless of how it appears.

 But you cant move them. Ujjal yanked at the bundle. Its tight, no play at all. Theres no holeits like it goes to the door and stops. He blinked. Youre right. Thats not possible.

 So we just think the doors closed? Karen asked, twirling a piece of red licorice as she squinted down at the porch.

 It doesnt matter. Chris cautiously poked a finger toward where the space should be. Ten centimeters out, a small red flare slapped his hand back. We cant get to it.

 We cant, Henry agreed. But power can go obviously go through it.

 Ujjal snorted. Im shut down. Theres no power in these cables. A pause just long enough to connect the dots. Should I start the generator, Boss?

 That kind of depends, Graham said before CB could answer. How big a mess will it make if it overloads and blows up?

 My generator is not going to overload.

 Im betting it will if you try and send power into that house while its locked down. You can bet against me if you want to, thoughthats why I asked about the mess.

 The generator wont deliver the kind of power I meant. You . . . Henry whirled toward Graham, knew he was moving at more than mortal speed by the way the mans eyes opened, but he didnt care. They were stalking a solution here. When you talk to the ghosts . . .

 He talks to ghosts? Chris repeated incredulously.

 . . . youre using a type of metaphysical power . . .

 Of what?

 . . . and that power can obviously go through the door.

 Obviously?

 . . . because a metaphysical power moved the cigarette butts through the door.

 Thats not exactly obvious.

 You call your cousins to the door and you tell them to tell Tony . . .

 Tony talks to ghosts?

 . . . what he has to do to defeat this thing.

 Whatthing?

 Henry turned just far enough to glare at Chris.

 Who paled and took a step back. Never mind.

 Look, I might be able to do that, Graham admitted slowly. But even if they can make some kind of contact with this Tony person, I dont know what to tell them. I dontknow how to destroy this thing.

 The cat in his arms yawned.



 I dont like that Tony was left on his own in the kitchen. Kate ripped open another packet of salt and glared across the circle at him as she passed it to Amy. How do we know he was working on a way to get the back door open? Her lip curled. We only have his word for it.

 Why would he lie? Amy asked as she added the salt to the circle.

 Same reason anyone lies. He wants to control the situation.

 Yeah, and hes sitting right here. Tony handed Amy another half dozen packets. The group had insisted she be the only one to draw the protective circle, but given that they actually wanted it finished before morning, there were no proscriptions on who could open the hundreds of tiny paper containers. You want to know something, just ask me.

 Because youve been so open and forthcoming about stuff, Kate snorted.

 Hey, I told you about the ghosts. Who werent back from their latest trip to the bathroom. When the lights came up and his coworkers disappeared, and someone sounded as though they were choking on glass in the drawing room- hed stayed sitting right where he was until the lights went out again. The house, or more specifically the thing in the basement, could just do that whole not-at-all-instant replay without him from now on.

 He did tell us about the ghosts, Peter acknowledged, glancing up from his own pile of packets. And at some risk to his reputation.

 What reputation? Brenda demanded. Hes as strange as she is! Uh, no offense, she added hastily, lowering the arm pointing toward Amy.

 And yet, Im offended.

 But I just . . .

 Lee tightened his arm around Brendas shoulders. Let it go, he told her quietly.

 Because you cant win, Amy added.

 Amy.

 She rolled her eyes but allowed Peter to have the last word.

 So, Kate shuffled around on the floor until she was staring directly into Tonys face, Im asking. If you were just trying to get the back door open, why did you send Lee away?

 I figured you could use the salt and the lantern.

 You didnt want him to see what you were doing.

 Yeah, that, too. I didnt think he needed to wait since you guys were waiting for the salt.

 She waved a packet at him. And this isso useful.

 Kosher salt. They were the first words Hartley had said since before Tom died. He paled as everyone turned toward him. The salt on theX-Files ep . . . p . . . p . . . pisode, he stammered. It was kosher.

 And everyone turned to Zev. Who sighed. How the hell should I know? I never watched theX-Files .

 You swore, Brianna pointed out.

 Yes, I did. Dont eat the salt.

 Im hungry!

 You just ate . . . Habit drew his gaze down to his watch. He sighed again. . . . not that long ago. Youre not hungry, youre bored.

 Shes not the only one, Mason muttered.

 Tony tuned out the overlapping litany of complaints and concentrated on opening salt packets. A circle large enough to enclose seventeen people required significant seasoning.

 . . . there, see, everythings okay. The light of the second lantern lapped out of the library. The low murmur of sound became Adams voice and broke up into words. Just keep moving out into the hall and well be back with the others in no time.

 After some discussion, Peter had sent Adam, Sorge, Saleen, and Mouse to bring the companys canvas chairs out into the hall. Amy had agreed theyd be safe enough to use inside the circle since they didnt actually belong to the house Mouse emerged first carrying four of the chairs, then Sorge with two, Adam with the lantern, and Saleen with the last two.

 Dont worry, Adam continued. Im right here and the lights not going anywhere. See, theres the other lantern right where we left it. Just go over to the edge of the circle and put the chairs down carefully.

 It was clearly meant to be comforting. Comforting who, that was the question.

 Mouse dropped the chairs, jumped back at the noise, bumped into Sorge, and leaped ahead. Dont! he snarled.

 And that seemed to be the answer.

 Mouse got a little spooked in the library, Adam explained, splitting his attention between his audience and the cameraman. Mouse, why dont you pass the chairs into the circle?

 Pass the chairs? His eyes were wild, his hands were visibly trembling, and damp circles spread out from the underarms of his fadedOnce a Thief crew shirt.

 Yeah, the chairs. Pass them to Hartley and . . . uh, Mason so they can set them up.

 I dont set up chairs, Mason muttered.

 Ive got it. Tony pushed his pile of salt packages over in front of Tina and stood.

 Mouse shook his head, graying ponytail making a swoosh, swoosh sound against his back. Tony avoids me.

 Tony didnt even bother to check and see if everyone was staring at him.Whats the point ? He just tugged the chair from Mouses hand and opened it, fully conscious of people edging away.Oh, yeah, the big guys going crazy, but youd rather displace onto the little guy . Actually, he couldnt fault them for that. Hed faced Mouse under the influence of the metaphysical, and the evening had included a couple of cracked ribs, significant bruising, and some tongue hed just as soon forget. Fortunately, the repetitive motion of passing over the chairs seemed to be calming the big guy down. Probably Adams intent.

 He shifted position slightly so he could overhear the 1ADs murmured conversation with Peter.

 . . . dont know what set him off. He said the library was full of dark and until I loaded him down with half the chairs, I was afraid he was going to bolt.

 The lantern didnt go out?

 Hell, no, he was just freaky.

 High-strung is not a description Id have ever applied to Mouse. Peter shoved his hands in his pockets.

 Its the house. The situation.

 They turned to look at Tony who suddenly got very busy setting up the last chair. Mouse could hear the baby and Mouse had started to freak. Kate was not only talking a lot more than usual but was getting distinctly paranoid. Lee . . .

 He glanced over at Lee as he shoved the chairs into a tighter pattern.

 Lee had Brenda plastered up against his side.

 Those whod been double shadow-held, were starting to fall apart. Even Hartley, only a single, had picked up a stutter. Mason, however, seemed fine. He seemed no more obnoxious than he ever wasalthough hewas voluntarily spending time with Ashley.

 Bottom line, both actors had picked up distractions. And both of them were, well, actors.



 I dont know about this . . .

 I do. Henry stayed hard on Grahams heels, herding him up the muddy lane toward the road. You dont know how to defeat the evil in the basement.

 Yeah, I mean no, but . . .

 Neither do I. That doesnt change the fact that we need to defeat it. A gust of wind blew a scud of water off the firs. Henry avoided most of it. Your research suggests that Creighton Caulfield interacted with the manifestationthat this was the purpose of the sances and the psychic investigators he had to the house.

 Graham wiped water off his face, slicking thinning hair back over his skull. Well, yeah, but. . .

 So Caulfield could be the only person who ever put together the information we need. Information to defeat this thing and save the lives of those people trapped in the house.

 I guess so, but . . .

 Were going to get that information. He gestured at his BMW. Get in the car.

 Whoa! Hang on! Graham stopped by the passenger door, both hands raised, brows drawn in. I cant just call up Caulfields ghost; it doesnt work that way. I mean, I could stand on his grave playingWho Who on a trumpet from now until doomsday, but if hes not hanging around, it wont do anybody any good. The dead have to want to talk to me.

 Good. Henrys eyes darkened as he stared across the roof at the caretaker. Get in the car.

 Graham did as instructed. Buckled his seat belt. Asked, What are you? as Henry pulled out onto Deer Lake Drive.

 Someone who plans to get whatshis out of that house.

 Yeah. Okay. But what . . .

 Henry glanced over at his passenger.

 . . . never mind. He sank down in his seat, head drawn into his shoulders, knees up, one thumb scraping mud off the side of his boots. So, where are we going?

 To talk to someone who knew Creighton Caulfield.

 

 Whats this supposed to do? Stephen asked, drifting back and forth across the curved line of salt.

 Lend a little peace of mind to the people inside the circle, Tony told him quietly. Calm them, make it harder for the house to work on them.

 Oh. He blinked. Good idea. How does it work?

 Power of suggestion.

 I dont understand.

 You dont have to.

 But itwas working. The six chairs were clumped together in the center holding Mason, Ashley, Tina, Peter, Sorge, and Pavinwho had a bad back and couldnt sit on the floor. Around them in a loose circle, backs to the chairs, were Adam, Saleen, Zev, Brianna, Kate, Mouse, Lee, and Brenda. Amy was slowly walking the circumference, holding the largest blade of her Swiss army knife out over the salt and singing softly under her breath.

 Tony, placed at her starting point so shed know where to finish, couldnt hear the actual words but the tune sounded disturbingly likePainted Ponies . Disturbing because Amy and Joan Baez went together like reality TV and actual dramatic content. When she reached him, she drew what looked like an infinity sign in the air with the knife point.

 There. Its closed. Negative energy cant get in. Were safe. She snapped the knife blade shut. If you want to leave the circle at any time, let me know and Ill open a door.

 Isnt this just a little tree-of-life tote bag for you? Tony murmured under the rising sound of relieved conversation. Stephen drifted into and out of the circle again looking bored.

 Bite me. Im a well rounded, multifaceted person.

 Uh-huh. Youre making this up as you go along, arent you?

 Her eyes narrowed. Do you question my kung fu, Grasshopper?

 I would if I knew what the hell you were talking . . . He could hear music. But Karl was still crying.

 Tony?

 What the fuck is happening now? Kate. And Mouse didnt look happy. Tony could only see a bit of Hartleys hair on the other side of the chairs, but the boom operator never looked happy, so he wasnt sure actually seeing his face would help. Lee untangled himself from Brendas arms and slowly stood.

 I hear music. Brianna launched herself to her feet, but Zev dragged her back.

 I think you all do, he said, looking around the circle and finally settling on Tony. What is it?

 Tony, in turned, looked to Cassie who had backed into her brothers arms, her remaining eye wide and frightened.

 Its the ballroom.

 Whats so bad about the ballroom? he demanded.

 Theres a lot of people in there, Stephen explained. So its strong. It pulls. Cassie got lured in there once, just after Graham brought us back. His arm around her waist pulled her closer still. I almost didnt get her out. If it had been going, with the music and all, I think wed still be there. When Cassie told Graham about it, he closed the doors and told us to stay away from it. Really helpful after the fact.

 Why can we hear itand Karl? Tony waved a hand around the hall, still dark and full of his muttering coworkers. The replay hasnt even started yet.

 I told you, its powerful.

 But contained?

 I guess. If the doors are closed. Were going up to the bathroom now, itsour place. Were safe there. The last sentence hung in empty air.

 Tony? Hey! Amy grabbed his arm and jerked him around to face her. You want to share with the living?

 So he told them.

 Amy paled. I left the ballroom doors open.

 Are you sure?

 She was.

 Is anyonesurprised ? Mason snapped.

 As it happened, no one was.

 I want to go dancing, Brianna whined.

 Tony . . .

 And the sound track of his life started playing theMighty Mouse theme. Im on it.

 He was almost to the edge of the lantern light when he realized voices were yelling about breaking the circle and that he hadnt brought a light of his own. He lifted his left foot, about to turn. The replay started before it hit the floor.

 The music was suddenly a lot louder and vaguely familiar. People were talking and laughing, the clink of glassware suggesting expensive booze of some kind was flowing freely. Champagne, maybe. People who lived in houses like this werent the type to open a few two-fours for friends. Faintly, he could hear the rhythmic pattern of dress shoes against a wooden floor. Step. Step. Slide.

 No point in going back for a light, so he trotted out of the foyer and down the hall.

 Turned out that the sound of dancing was muffled because the ballroom doors were closed.

 He frowned.

 Except Amy was sure shed left the doors open.

 All right, they were open in his time but not in the replay. And that was no help. In order for Grahams protections to work, they had to be closed in his time. Which he wasnt exactly in.

 Great.

 The music faltered. It was live, not recorded.

 Someone in the ballroom banged on the closed doors.

 Which werent only locked, they were barred.

 On this side.

 He reached for the bar but couldnt touch it.

 The music stopped.

 Muffled thuds. A lot of padded somethings hitting the floor.

 Bodies?

 You think? He could hear coughing, choking, what might be a little thrashing. And he could smell . . .

 The lights in the hall were electric and they looked new, the wires surface-mounted along the moldings. Henry had found him an apartment in Toronto with the same surface-mounted wires, surface mounted because the building had started out with gas lights. Apparently, so had this house. If the electric lights were new, then the gas lines were probably still in place.

 Three guesses about whats killing the people in the ballroom, and the first two dont count.

 Someone had opened the gas jets. Since all the murdering someones had, so far, stuck around for the actual deaths, Tonyd have been willing to bet that theyd barred these doors and gone back into the ballroom through the service door, locking it behind them with the key. Not that it really mattered.

 A whole ballroom full of dead people. No wonder it was powerful.

 And in his time, the doors were open.

 The music started up again although the odds were good it wasnt exactlylive anymore. Other replays had stopped with death. This one kept going.

 Had it reset to begin again or were the dead dancing? Given the night so far, hed bet on the latter.

 He was standing in front of the doors in his time as well as in the replayhed established that movement was timeless beyond a doubt in the conservatory. Which was a good thing because right now doubt would be a bad thing. Eyes closed so as not to be distracted, he clung to an image of the open doors, held out his hand, said the seven words, andreached .

 The doors are already closed, memory insisted.

 Yeah, well, if it was easy, everyone would be doing it.

 Once again, Tony could hear people talking and laughing, but it didnt sound like they were having a good time. Although he couldnt hear actual words, the voices had a nails-on-a-chalkboard kind of timbre and the laughter carried more than a hint of desperation. Step, step, slide had become shuffle, shuffle, drag.

 He stepped forward.

 Something brushed past his hip.

 Something from his time because nothing in the replay could touch him.

 Oh, crap!

 Hand. Words.Reach !

 He opened his eyes just as the door slammed shut. Just in time to see a pale, corpse-gray hand snatched back from the front of Briannas pinafore. An almost familiar pattern glowed gold against the wood.

 CBs younger daughter turned and glared at him, squinting a little in the lantern light radiating out from behind him. I wanted to go dancing! she shrieked, and kicked him in the shin.

 Brianna! Zev rushed past. Are you all right?

 I wanted to danceand he closed the door!

 Tony couldnt have closed the door, hes not close enough. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from the brass door pull. And you dont want to go in there, its all . . . He glanced up at Tony. Full of dead people?

 Tony nodded.

 I want to see dead people!

 No, you dont.

 Do, too!

 Tom . . .

 Tom is boring, hes just lying there! She folded her arms. I want to see the gross dead baby, or I want to go in there and dance with dead people!

 Why dont we . . .

 No!

 Cheese! The odd acoustics in the house had no luck at all in muffling Ashleys voice. You get your skinny butt back here, or Im telling Mom you put those pictures of her in her underwear up on the Net!

 Did not!

 So?

 Brianna yanked herself free of Zevs grip and charged past Tony back toward the entrance hall, the darkness between the lanterns of less concern than getting to her sister. Im gonna rip your tongue out, Ashes!

 Theyre really very nice kids, Zev murmured as he passed.

 Sure. Tony turned to see Lee standing behind him with a lantern. Zev thinks theyre nice kids, he said, suddenly at a loss for words.

 Thats because Zev likes kids. And Zevs never picked up a prop theyve broken, thenfixed with a tube and a half of Crazy Glue, and then gotten his picture in the tabloids brandishing a four-and-a-half foot cross in a hospital emergency room.

 It was a good picture.

 Thats little comfort. Lee stared past Tony at the ballroom doors. I can still hear the music.

 Yeah. Me, too. Although it was faint, distant. Distorted. We should get back.

 He didnt understand the moment of silence that followed his suggestion.

 Right. Lee turned as Tony came even with him and they fell into step. Tony, why do you think I can hear the baby?

 He asked like he had a theory. Like he knew and he was just asking Tony to confirm his suspicions. Had he started to remember the shadows?

 Why me and Mouse and Kate and Hartley? Oh, and you . . . of course.

 The pause was disconcerting.

 Why of course me? None of the shadow-held remembered the experience and Arra had wiped the memories of everyone on the soundstage after the final battle. Lee was asking like he thought Tony knew the answer and just wasnt telling. If the shadow-held were more sensitive to the stuff the house was throwing at them, did that mean the house Was restoring their memories?

 Why do you ask?

 Last spring Mouse and Kate and Hartley all had lapses of memory, somewhat like mine. I had an . . . incident on the set. So did you. I thought it might be connected.

 I guess it might be. That seemed safe enough.

 Im pretty sure Mason is hearing things, too. Remember that friend of his that showed up on the set just before the gas leak?

 Theyd gone with the traditional explanation for a group of disoriented people whose memories had just been magically wiped. Had to have been a gas leak. Also the traditional explanation for a ballroom of dead people as it turned out.

 His name was Michael Swan, Lee continued, before Tony could answer. I asked Mason about him, and he had no idea who I was talking about. Everyone else remembered him, though.

 Mason had been shadow-held at the time. Of course he wouldnt remember.

 Just like Lee didnt remember the actual weird shita shadow from another world in his body, the Shadowlord after his bodyonly the stuff around the weird. Unfortunately, he seemed to have gathered enough pieces to start trying to put two and two together. Fortunately, since two and two made five in this instance, it was unlikely hed come up with the actual answer.

 Suddenly realizing he was about to step out of the circle of lantern light, Tony stopped and turned. Lee was standing about five paces back, watching him. What?

 You changed since all that happened.

 Changed?

 Youre more confident. Youre interacting with CB. And you dont . . . He paused and brushed his hair back off his face, almost as though he wasnt sure he wanted to continue. . . . you dont watch me like you used to.

 What?

 You used to . . . there was this expression . . . I mean, every time I turned around you were . . . He shrugged. I guess I got used to it.

 Sorry. Tony had no idea what he was apologizing for, but it was all he could think of.

 Yeah. We should get back.

 Sure.

 Four or five steps in an uncomfortable silence, then, Did I mention everyones a little pissed at you because you broke through the circle?

 No.

 Well, they are.

 A little pissed was a bit of an understatement. Kate was ready to throw him to the wolves and nothing said seemed to calm her down.

 Hes putting us all in danger! We need to get rid of him!

 And how do you suggest we do that, eh?

 Shut up, Sorge. Youre not helping. Tony shot a whose-side-are-you-on glance at the DP, who answered with a Gallic and totally noncommittal shrug.

 We lock him away somewhere safe, Kate insisted. Where he cant hurt us.

 He hasnt done anything to hurt us! Amy snapped.

 Oh, yeah? How do you know? How do you know he didnt arrange all this? He sees things we dont. We only have his word for whats going on.

 Shes right!

 Brenda. Big surprise. Tony shuffled a little closer to Lee. While Brenda hadnt been shadow-held, she was more than keeping up in the freaking-out department. Plus, lately, it seemed that she didnt much like him although he didnt . . .Right. Im an idiot . He would have shuffled away again, but Lee grabbed his arm. Comfort? Restraint? Tony had no idea.He misses the way I used to look at him? What the hells up with that ?

 Maybe Tony woke the house! On purpose! Have any of you morons even considered that? Kate swept a narrowed gaze around the circle and Tony realized that more than one of their companionswas thinking of it. Lees grip tightened slightly. Tony broke the circle, she continued, volume rising with every word. Hewants one of us to go crazy and kill the rest. That way we wont think its his fault! She lunged at him, but Adam caught her.

 I like Tony! Brianna declared as Kate struggled to free herself from Adams grip. She took two steps forward and pinched a fold of Kates stomach.

 OW!

 She pinches with her fingernails, Ashley commented from her place inside the curve of Masons arm.

 You little bitch! The fury of Kates attack dragged one arm free of Adams hold.

 Brianna ducked under the swing and wrapped herself around Kates lower leg.

 OW!

 And she bites.

 Zev took a blow that knocked his yarmulke half off his head, but he managed to get his hands under Briannas arms and drag her away.

 Eyes narrowed, managing to look dangerous in spite of age, size, a turn-of-the-century pinafore, and the fact she was essentially dangling from Zevs hands, Brianna jabbed a finger toward Kate and snarled, You say one more mean thing about Tony and my dad will fire your ass!

 He cant fire me if were all dead!

 Wanna bet! My dad fires dead people all the time!

 News to Tony but, given CB, not completely unbelievable.

 Does not!

 Does, too!

 Does not!

 Does, too, infinity!

 Does . . .

 Hey! Ashley moved away from Masonwho looked astonished at being leftto stand with her sister. She said infinity!

 Kate glared at the two girls for a moment, then turned and growled, Youre hurting my arm.

 Adam smiled tightly. Seemed preferable to the alternative. Have you calmed down?

 Im fine!

 Oh, yeah. And we all believe you, too.

 After a long moment, Peter nodded and Adam released her.

 Okay, some of us believe you.

 Were in this together, Peter reminded them as Kate rubbed her arm and scowled. Lynching Tony . . .

 Kate perked up.

 . . . metaphorically speaking, Peter sighed, just because he knows things strikes me as cutting off our noses to spite our face. He frowned. Faces. I dont believe hes lying to us and I consider myself an excellent judge of character. Shut up Sorge.

 The DPs mouth closed with an audible snap.

 But since you brought it up . . . He turned to Kate. The house, the thing in the house . . .

 In the basement, Amy added.

 Right, the thing in the basement wants us dead so that it can feed off us . . .

 According to Tony, Kate sneered.

 Granted. But why do you think Tony would want one of us to go crazy and kill the rest?

 Nostrils flared, she tossed her head. Because.

 Oh, yeah, thats a good reason.

 Masons dust-dry delivery set off a wave of laughter. It sounded more relieved than amused, but Mason preened at the attention and it was almost back to business as usual.

 Hes always going off on his own! Kate insisted, trying to reclaim her audience.

 And he shouldnt be, Peter agreed. None of us should. If we leave the circleonce Amy has resealed the circle, he added pointedly, we go in pairs. At least in pairs.

 Not going anywhere, Mouse muttered.

 Kate ignored him, jerking her chin toward Tony. Whos going to want to go with him?

 I will.

 Oh, yeah. She curled her lip in Lees direction. Big surprise,youve been running around with him all night. Her observation dripped innuendo.

 Heads turned. Eyebrows rose.

 Tonyand, from the look on her face, Brendawaited for Lee to release his arm and leap away but the actor only said, Then hes hardly been going off on his own, has he?

 Thats not . . .

 Lee shook his head, a lock of dark hair sweeping across his forehead. I can hear the baby, Kate, and the musicand so can you and . . .

 So can I! Mason announced.

 Heads turned again.

 Masons chin rose and his face stiffened into what Amy had once referred to as his patently portentous expression. After Tonyd looked it up, hed agreed with the description. Ive always heard the baby, he said, Raymond Darks fangs adding a surreal touch. But I felt I should remain as neutral in this situation as possible.

 Amy snorted and asked what they were all wondering. Why?

 Because you thought wed laugh at you! Brianna kicked him in the shin.

 Dont you touch him! Ashley launched herself at her sister just as Karl stopped crying.

 Tony froze as the lights came upgas this time, not electricand he was standing alone in the entrance hall. He could feel a kind of pressure that had to be Lees hand on his arm. What would happen if he pulled away? Would Lee hold on? Would he have to let go? Tony didnt want to know the answer enough to try it. The house was absolutely silent and then, very faintly, he heard a series of thuds, some panicked profanity, and one final crash. Then, more silence.

 Help, Ive fallen and Im not getting up again.

 Educated guess, where educated meant lets attach the sound to the worst case scenario: someone had been pushed down the kitchen stairs and had landed without Lee Nicholas to cushion the impact. Broken neck, temple slammed down on the corner of the kitchen table, impalement on a rack of salad forksit didnt much matter; he was more concerned with what was going on with the live people in the house during his absence.

 The replay continued to run, but death number two seemed to be happening quietly. And slowly. Tony ran through video production specs as he waited.SD video is transmitted at SDI rates of 270, 360, or 540 Mbps; HD video is transmitted at the SDI rate of. . . of. . . crap . He hadnt remembered on his final exam either. When reviewing Wizardry 101 got him no farther than:In the manipulating of energies the price of intent is often greater than the price of manipulation .which had made no sense the first time around eitherhe settled on counting backward from one hundred in French.

 Atquarante-deux , the lights went out. Lee was still beside him but standing now with his arms folded as he, and everyone else, listened to Peter who was clearly coming to the end of some lengthy direction. Kate was scowling, Brianna was sulking, Ashley looked triumphant, and every other face Tony could see wore the default expression common to those who worked in television production and spent most of their professional careers waiting for a thousand and one details to line up so they could do their jobs. No one seemed to have noticed he was gone.

 Does everyone understand me, then? Peter raised a finger. Were in this together. I dont want to hear accusations and no one wants to hear how certain people used to have a starring role in a network police drama.

 Mason opened his mouth and closed it again as the finger jabbed toward him.

 Good. A second finger rose. Most importantly, no one goes anywhere alone. Not Tony. Not me. No one. He looked around, gauging reaction, and frowned. Wheres Hartley?

 Chapter Nine

 ?? ?

 LOOK, NO ONES more in favor of all this cultural crap than me, eh, but I thought you wanted to save your friend.

 The Lambert Theatre is haunted.

 No shit. Medium with an Internet connection, remember? Graham slammed the car door and waited for Henry to join him on the sidewalk before he started walking toward the theater. We got some poltergeist activityyoudont want to talk to those little shitsand repeat appearances of dark figure in a long coat suspected to be Alistair McCall, an actor who died during a performance ofHenry V . The reviews said it wasnt the best death scene hed ever done.

 In spite of circumstances, Henry grinned. Harsh.

 Yeah, well, we werent there; they mightve been right. So do you want me to try and talk to McCall, is that it?

 If itis McCall, he was around at the same time as Creighton Caulfield, and they likely moved in the same social circlesCaulfield was nouveau riche and McCall was a local celebrity.

 Okay, sure, thats fine if it is McCall, but what if it isnt?

 Then get what information you can.

 The dead dont usually like crowds. Graham nodded at the people milling about under the marquee. And this lot doesnt look like theyre leaving.

 Theyre not. Theres a late show tonight.

 Yeah, so . . .

 So youll have to concentrate a little harder to ignore any distractions, wont you? Henry wrapped his hand around the caretakers elbow, the movement as much threat as restraint.

 Graham glanced down at Henrys fingers, pale lines against the dark green fabric, and shrugged. Okay. So were what? Just going to walk right on in?

 Yes.

 Because you got tickets?

 Not exactly.

 They slipped past two young women checking their watches as they discussed unlikely methods of revenge, pushed past a clump of slightly younger men who could only be first-year film students from the way they were pontificating, and went around the smokers desperately topping up their nicotine levels before they had to go inside. The clothes of all three groups were such an eclectic mix that neither Henrys white silk shirt and jeans nor Grahams workmans overalls looked out of place.

 Muscles, tattoos, and a clipboard blocked the open door.

 Henry smiled up at her, carefully keeping it charming. Henry Fitzroy. Tony Foster.

 The charm slid off without penetrating. She checked her list. Drew two lines. Go in and sit down if you want. Well be starting latecamera twos stuck in fucking traffic.

 Any idea how long itll be?

 If I fucking knew that, Id be doing a fucking dance of joy, she snarled. Sit, dont sit. Its all the same to me.

 The Lambert had been built just before the turn of the century when money poured into Vancouver from timber, mining, and fleecing unwary treasure seekers heading north to the Yukon gold rush. A group of the young citys most upstanding and wealthy citizens, stung by a federal study that said Vancouver led the Dominion in consumption of alcohol, vowed to bring culture to the frontier and, with their wallets behind the project, it took only five short months from breaking the ground to the first performance on the Lambert stage.

 A hundred years later, a similar group ripped out screens, projection booths, and drop ceilings and restored the theatre to its original glory. In order to sell local wines in the lobby during intermissions, the restored Lambert had a liquor license.

 Henry appreciated the irony.

 Jesus. Graham tipped his head back and stared up at the gilded Graces and cherubs dancing across lobbys ceiling. Thats a bit over the top, eh?

 Well, when youre spending government money, why not go for Baroque.

 What?

 Never mind. The lights on the stairs leading up to the balconies were off. It therefore seemed reasonable to assume that the balcony wouldnt be used during the performance and would offer them the privacy theyd need. Henry dragged Graham across the lobby. Come on.

 Were not supposed to go up there.

 Then wed better not get caught.

 Graham didnt seem to find that comforting. Frowning, he stopped at the bottom step. The lights are off.

 You talk to the dead and youre afraid of the dark?

 Thats not . . . Oh, never mind. He threw a nervous glance over his shoulder, pulled his arm from Henrys hand, and sprinted for the second floor, the muffled thud of work boots on carpet drowned out by Radiograms new CD playing over the sound system.

 Henry met him at the top of the stairs.

 Oh, sure . . . beat the old . . . man. He sagged against the flocked wallpaper and panted.

 You should exercise more.

 You should . . . mind your own . . . damned business. Pushing himself upright, Graham headed for the main balcony. If were going to . . . do this. I want . . . to sit down.

 The balcony was deserted, but Henry noted the cables leading to the empty spot waiting for the delayed camera two.

 Down below, half a dozen crew members ran around attending to last minute details. On the stage, a pair of actors Henry didnt recognizealthough Tony had assured him theyd been famous in their dayworked on blocking. The seats were about three quarters filled, the audience not yet restless but becoming loud.

 Loud was good. Loud would cover the conversation Graham Brummel was about to have with the dead.

 Well?

 The replica turn-of-the-century red plush seat protested as Graham dropped into it. Well, what?

 Is he here?

 Sure. But thats the wrong question. The right question is; does he want to talk. Actually . . . Graham scratched thoughtfully at his comb-over. . . . the real question is, will he say anything I can understand. The dead are not usually what youd call articulate. Now these days I cant get them to shut up, but I still had to work on Cassandra and Stephen for a couple of weeks before I could get anything and I had a blood tie there.

 Here, you have me.

 That and thirty-two seventy-fivell buy you a two-four. He sighed. I could use a beer.

 Youve had plenty. Call. Or concentrate. Or do whatever you have to.

 Youve got no friggin idea how this works, do . . . Twisting around, he looked up at Henry and froze. Yeah. So like, Ill just, um . . . .

 As little as he wanted to, Henry dialed it back. Masked the Hunter. Destroying this annoying little man would not help free Tony and the others.Moves the pity . Closing his fingers over the back of Grahams chair, he waited.

 Id still like to know, why me?

 Like attracts like. Look, theres a whole shitload of myth about you. Okay, not you, specifically, but about your kind. Its all around you. . .Tony spread his arms. . . . like a metaphysical fog. I bet thats what the ghosts attracted to. I bet thats what pulls him to you .

 Tonys theory, expressed between visits from the last ghost Henryd had to deal with, had made a certain kind of sense. Like was drawn to like.Except, of course, when opposites attract .

 That wasnt helping.

 Fabric began to tear under Henrys fingers and he snarled softly in frustration.

 The temperature in the balcony plummeted.

 Hes here. Grahams announcement plumed out from his mouth.

 I figured.

 A tall figure began to take shape in the place where camera two would rest. The lack of light in the balcony made it difficult to see defined edges, dark bleeding out into dark. It almost seemed as though the pale, middle-aged face cupped by the high formal collar of the early part of the century floated, sneering and unsupported.

 Hes complaining about the theater. I dont think he means the building, I think he means . . . Graham waved toward the stage. That stuff.

 Why couldnt I hear him?

 Because youre not a medium. Graham snickered. Youre short enough I bet youre barely a small. What?

 The ghost frowned.

 I think he thinks Im brave talking to you like that because you walk in darkness. Jesus, the lights are out. Who doesnt?

 Alistair McCall, once given five curtain calls for his Faust, and Henry Fitzroy, once Duke of Richmond and Somerset, exchanged an essentially identical expression.

 Yeah, yeah, Nightwalker. What the hell is a . . . Whites showed all the way around Grahams eyes as he slowly turned and gazed up into Henrys face. Oh, boy, oh boyI knew you were strange from the moment I laid eyes on you, but youre avampire ?

 Henry smiled, and this time he didnt bother being charming. Ask him about Creighton Caulfield. We havent got all night.

 



 

 Hartleys gone? Brendas eyes were painfully wide and both her hands were wrapped around Lees arm in a white-knuckled grip. The house! Its the house! she shrieked as Lee closed his hand over hersnot so much for comfort, Tony was just petty enough to observe, but to try and force her to loosen her hold. Its eaten him!

 No, it hasnt! Amy snapped. Then she frowned and turned to Tony. Has it?

 He shrugged and glanced over at Stephen and Cassie whod finally rejoined them. Cassie still looked a little twitchywhich would have seemed reasonable given the dance music still playing a counterpoint to Karls crying except that she was dead and therefore should, in Tonys opinion, be beyond twitchy.

 The house doesnt eat you, it uses the energy of your death, Cassie told him, smoothing down her bloodstained skirt and glaring at Brenda. Theyoure an idiot was clearly implied.

 Tony repeated Cassies statement, trying to keep the implication a little less obvious. And since no one else is dead, he added, Hartley cant be. Its been murderthen suicide since the beginning.

 So hes probably just gone off looking for a drink, Peter sighed.

 Arms folded, Kate shifted her weight from foot to foot. Or hes gone off looking for someone to kill!

 Who? Amy demanded impatiently. Were all here.

 So he wants us to go looking for him and when were separated, then he kills one of us.

 Heads nodded agreement.

 Yeah . . . Amy pursed her lips, giving credit where credit was due. That sounds reasonable.

 Tom wasnt a murder/suicide, Mouse muttered mournfully.

 Tina shot him a flat, unfriendly look. Stop saying murder/suicide around the children.

 Safely out of the way beside Zev, Brianna rolled her eyes as Ashley pulled her ears out from between the script supervisors hands. First of all, not a child, the older girl snorted. And second, its not like we dont know the words. We watchLaw and Order , you know.

 How can you avoid it, Adam snorted.

 Heads nodded again.

 Tom was kind of a metaphysical accident, Amy reminded them. He didnt intend to kill himself, so his death is different.

 Kates lip curled. If one death can be different, whats to say others cant be.

 More nodding.

 Hartley wants a drink, she continued, so the house, the thing . . .

 In the basement, Amy interrupted.

 Fine. The thing in the basement convinces him that a bottle of rubbing alcohol is just what hes looking for and the next thing you know, hes poisoned himself.

 Amy spread her hands. Come on, guys. This is Hartley were talking about. Hes perfectly capable of drinking a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poisoning himself without any help from a thing in the basement.

 The nodding continued.

 The circle was beginning to look as though it contained an assorted variety of bobblehead dolls.

 So do we go looking for him? Tony asked.

 Oh, youd like that, wouldnt you? Go off all alone. Come back and tell us stuff were expected to believe. If all we have to do is survive until morning, then I think we stand a better chance if we use a little duct tape on Tony and keep him from wandering off. Kate patted the roll of tape hanging off her belt. Whos with me?

 No one is duct taping anyone, Peter told her. Not unless I say so.

 Unlessyou say so?

 Stephen wafted closer to Tony as the shouting started. It likes this. It likes anger. It likes any strong emotion, he added thoughtfully as Sorge shoved Pavin, Mouse shook Kate as she tried to lunge at Peter, and Amy, Adam, and Saleen were attempting to outshout each otherthe three clumped together but yelling independently. Tina, Zev, Mason, Lee, Brenda, and the girls were being shoved toward the far edge of the circle. Angers easiest for it to use, though.

 Yeah? Tony jerked back away from Kates flailing arm. She wasnt flailing at him, but he still wanted to avoid impact. How do you know?

 How do I know what?

 He turned and glared at the ghosts. How do you know whatit likes?

 Cassie rolled her eye and stepped forward. It feeds off our death, remember? Were its prisoners as much as you are. Weve just been here longer, so we know more.

 Stockholm Syndrome.

 What?

 He frowned. Helsinki Syndrome? Never mind. The point is; how do I know you havent gone over to its side? How do I know I can trust you?

 Its working on him now, Cassie muttered.

 Stephen snorted. You think?

 It is not! Its more likely you two are working with it than with me against it because you and it are . . . OW! Tony clutched his crotch with both hands and stumbled back through Stephen. Gripping her arms, Mouse had lifted Kate off the floor freeing her feet to swing. In spite of the painor maybe because of itTony felt more clearheaded than he had in a while. Clearheaded and cold. Man, you are fucking freezing!

 Heat is energy. Stephen adjusted his head. We dont have energy to spare.

 Heat. . . You used the heat from the lights to look real this morning.

 The lights and the people. We . . .

 Is that relevant? Cassie interrupted, sounding remarkably like Amy. She waved a bloody hand at the rest of the crew. I mean it was fun and all, but right now you need to do something about this!

 While Tonyd been distracted, the darkness had thickened around the circle of light cast by the lantern. It felt. . . anticipatory seemed the onlyif clichdchoice. Within the circle, the old arguments went on and new ones had started. Mason and Lee stood nearly nose to nose, yelling about fan sites. Brenda was on her knees between themthe tuxedo jackets covering just what exactly she was doing therewith Zev hauling at her shoulders trying to pull her away. Tina had left the circle and was banging on the front door demanding that Everett wake up. Her pinafore over her head, Ashley sat cross-legged on the floor singing Danny Boy at the top of her lungs.

 Thats a bizarre choice for an eleven year old . . .

 It looked as though everyone had slipped over the edge, Tony realized as he slowly straightened. He had no idea how the hell he was supposed to haul everyone back.

 I HAVE TO PEE!

 Okay, not everyone.

 Brianna stood in the center of the circle, hands on her hips, and as the echoes of her announcement died down, she glared at the suddenly quiet adults. I have to pee, now! Not quite as loud but just as penetrating. One bare foot lashed out . . . Shutup , Ashes! . . . and Danny Boy died. Did you hear me? I have to PEE!

 I think they heard you in Victoria, Amy winced.

 Do they have bathrooms in Victoria? Brianna demanded.  Cause if they do, I want to go there! Right NOW!

 Okay, okay . . . Zev stepped up behind her and patted her shoulder. I imagine theres a number of bathrooms in a place this size. He looked around expectantly at the others, and Tony remembered that the music director had only been at the location for about half an hour before the house closed down. Right?

 Yes and no, Peter admitted. Therere six bathrooms, but only the one in Masons dressing room has been approved for use.

 Amy opened her mouth to say something rude, but Zev stopped her with a raised hand and allowed his smile to say it for him. Given the circumstances, trapped in a haunted house and all, I think we can ignore that rule.

 Sure, if were planning on not getting out. But this was one of CBs directives, and Im not leaping from the frying pan into the fire. I think Id rather stay in the frying pan.

 Shell pee in the frying pan, Ashley warned ominously.

 Fine. With no time to argue, Zev surrendered. Well use the bathroom in Masons dressing room.

 You wont, Tina told him, taking Briannas hand from his. Wewill. I think . . . She swept her gaze around the circle, allowing it to momentarily alight on the other three women and Ashley. . . . that we should all go. All us girls. Together.

 No!

 Oh, for Christs sake, Mason. As Amy lit the second lantern, Tina turned a withering glare on the star ofDarkest Night . Grow up and learn to share.

 Fuck you, Mason muttered. He pulled a battered cigarette out of the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket and held out his hand for his lighter. Its not about sharing, he said as he lit up, staring at Tony over the flame. Its about shadows.

 Shell pee on the shadows, Ashley giggled.

 Ill pee on you, Zitface!

 Try it, Cheese!

 Brianna lunged out to the end of Tinas arm.

 Enough!

 Everyone stared at Zev, impressed, as both girls quieted.

 Then all heads swiveled toward Tony.

 He sighed. Theres something in that bathroom, he began.

 Richard Caulfield, Cassie interrupted. Creighton Caufields only son. He was retarded. We think he lived in that room his whole life.

 We know he died in it, Stephen added.

 Hes not like the rest of us. He doesnt . , . um . . . She frowned and sketched circles in the air.

 Replay? Tony offered.

 Yes, he doesnt replay. Hes just . . . Unlike her brothers, her head remained in place when she shrugged. Hes just there.

 Tony? Lees voice had risen on the second syllable. He closed his hand over Brendas and moved it off his arm, frowning at her while he did. That hurt.

 Her lips twisted into a bad approximation of an apologetic smile. Sorry.

 Lees smile was no more sincere. Sure.

 What the hell is up with those two? And then Tony realized that no one else had noticed as they were alllike Lee-waiting for him to elaborate on Masons shouted no. Uh, its safe. Its . . . He glanced at Mason who sucked back half an inch of cigarette. . . . shadowy, but safe.

 Who cares! Pulling Tina along behind her, Brianna headed for the stairs.

 Wait! Amy came forward with the lantern and swung it three times over the line of salt. Okay, its safe to step over now.

 Stephen snickered and wafted back and forth over the line until Tony turned to glare at him. He knew Amy was spouting bullshit, but the section of salt the women were stepping over did look duller than the gleaming line that made up the rest of the circle. Believing is seeing, he muttered thoughtfully.

 What?

 Christmas movie, Walt Disney Pictures, 1999, John Pasquin directed and . . . never mind, long after your time.

 Brenda? Amy paused on the outside of the circle. You coming?

 Ill stay with Lee.

 No, you wont, Tina said from the bottom step. Get out here.

 But . . .

 Now! He wont run off with someone else while youre gone.

 Whys the guy in the hat looking at you? Stephen asked as Brenda reluctantly joined the others.

 Guy in the what? Oh. Zev. Tony had no idea.

 Cassie?

 She smiled down at her brother from the stairs. Ill be right back.

 What is it, Peter asked as, up on the second floor, the door to Masons dressing room opened and closed, about women going to the bathroom in groups?

 Every man in the circle shrugged.

 Stephen adjusted his head.





 

 As they reached the end of the lane, Henry could hear the three remaining crew talking inside the craft services truck, their hearts beating just a little more quickly than normal. He was impressed at how well they were continuing to react to some rather extraordinary circumstances. Was it because they were in television and used to thinking of the unusual as normal and the bizarre as something to get on tape? Was it because Arras spell to erase their memories of the battle at the soundstage had a lingering, dampening effect? Was it because no stronger reaction would be permitted with CB on the scene?

 Or because no stronger reaction was necessary with CB on the scene . . .

 The executive producer ofDarkest Night stood by the back porch, hands in the pockets of his trench coat, head sunk low between massive shoulders. If will alone could have forced the door open, his attention would have reduced it to a pile of kindling and a few bits of twisted metal.

 He turned his head, and only his head, as Henry and the caretaker emerged into the light. Well?

 Graham spoke to an actor named Alistair McCall, Henry began.

 Anactor ? CB snorted. Thats just what we need, another damned ego on legs.

 This one actually seems tobe damned; at least by one of the looser definitions of the word. A quick gesture stopped Graham from speaking as Henry met CBs gaze Prince of Man to Prince of Man. More importantly, he used to go to sances at this house while Creighton Caulfield was still alive.

 The tense line of broad shoulders relaxed slightly. Go on.

 He says Caulfield started out collecting grotesqueriesthe finger of an alleged witch killed during the Inquisition, the skull of a cat that had supposedly been sacrificed in satanic rituals, a vial of dust and ash said to be the remains of one of the bloodsucking undead.

 CB raised a single brow.

 Henry shrugged. Probably not.

 Both men ignored the strangled choking sounds coming from Graham.

 Anyway, around 1892 Caulfield stopped collecting things and started collecting books. McCall said that some of those books made him very uneasy.

 He said some of them were warm, Graham added, shuddering.

 CBs brow lifted again.

 Its possible, Henry told him. Some books have the kind of contents that require a specific construction. He had, in his personal collection, a grimoire that recorded twenty-seven demonic names. The names were truehe had no desire to discover how the author had acquired themand both the vellum pages and the thicker leather they were bound in maintained a constant body temperature. Blood temperature. Skin temperature. Hed taken it from a man who was using it to call demons into the world at about the same time as Caulfield had begun to collect the books that made McCall uneasy. Hed been told his was one of the last three true grimoires remaining. There was no reason Caulfield couldnt have gotten his hands on one of the other two.

 With the books, he continued, came the sances. Sances and spiritualism in general were very popular at the time.

 Graham snorted. Yeah, well, youd know.

 Again, they ignored him.

 According to McCall, Caulfield was interested in contacting something he called Arogoth.

 Arogoth? CB repeated, punctuating the name with a disdainful snort.

 Henry shrugged. Since the name seems to have no power, I suspect its one that Caulfield made up. That whatever this thing was, it had no nameso he gave it one.

 Not a very original one. If one of my writers suggested such tripe, Id take away their Lovecraft.

 So Caulfield was derivative. So what? Graham demanded. He was also more than dabbling in darkness. Hands fisted on his hips, his gaze flicked between Henry and CB fast enough to dislodge his comb-over. And stop ignoring me!

 Sorry. Wouldyou like to continue?

 No. Defiance wilted under CBs attention. Its okay. The toe of one scuffed work boot dug a trench in the damp gravel. Henry heres doing good.

 Thank you. But Grahams right, Henry admitted. Caulfield was more than dabbling. According to McCall, the sances were often violent. The temperature in the drawing room would plummet, the darkness would thicken, and the spiritualists he used were never the same again. One of the more reputable died. The doctors called it a brain hemorrhage, but McCallpossessing a unique hindsight given his current conditionsaid he thought that something shed contacted had overloaded the womans brain. After a while, spiritualists refused to come to the house.

 And who can blame them, eh? If they were expected to talk to the thing in the basement. Graham frowned and scratched thoughtfully between the buttons on his overalls. Except, it might not have been in the basement then.

 It makes no difference where it was, only where it is. How do we . . . CB glanced back toward the house. . . . they defeat it?

 Caulfield kept a journal of his research. The sances, and the things he found out from bookshe was determined to control the dark power found . . . acquired . . . stumbled over . . . who knows.

 And this journal is where?

 Probably long gone.

 But therere ghosts in the house, Graham added, before Henry could continue, who were alive when the journal was there. Servants.

 Servants. CB turned his attention back to the house, his expression dismissive. What makes you think they knew anything about what their employer was up to?

 It was Henrys turn to raise a brow. If CB thought his housekeeper remained ignorant about any aspect of his life, he was being deliberately blindwhich was, in Henrys long experience, the best way to deal with a good servant, the fiction of ignorance maintained by both halves of the relationship. I think theres a very good chance theyd be curious about what their employer spent so much time and effort on, but we also have to consider that these ghosts died under . . . He considered and discarded a number of words. . . . familiar circumstances. One of the maids pushed one of the male servants down the kitchen stairs and then hanged herself from the third-floor landing. They were the first murder/suicide the house evoked and it may have been able to reach the maid because shed read the journal. Tony has to talk to her.

 So now hes a medium, too.

 Henry smiled at the weary lack of surprise in CBs voice. No. But we know he saw Grahams cousins, so we stopped by his apartment and got this. He tugged at the strap hanging from his shoulder and swung Tonys laptop case into view.

 Is that . . . Arras?

 It is.

 And she left something on there that will help?

 I have no idea, but theres eighty gig of magic instruction on here, so Im hoping that theres something he can adapt.

 Adapt? Why does that not fill me with confidence?

 Hes a smart guy. Hell figure something out.

 Out. Yes. This may out his abilities to his companions.

 Have you considered that he may not want that to happen?

 It was Henrys turn to stare at the building. He could hear the five lives in the drivewayCB, Graham, the three crewbut nothing from the house. No life, no deathnothing. This house, this Arogoth, was attempting to poach lives on his territory. His lips curled back off his teeth. Under the circumstances, what Tony does or doesnt want doesnt much matter. Hell do the right thing.

 The silence pulled him around. Even with the Hunter masked, those who could meet his gaze were few. With the Hunter so close to the surface . . . Henry could think of only two others who would even attempt it. After a long moment, CB nodded and looked away. What happens now?

 Graham will call his cousins to the door, then theyll go to Tony and tell him about the servants and the journal.

 Ive pulled them pretty much into the here and now, you know? If this Tony can see them, they can get . . . Graham frowned. Unless the house being awake is giving them trouble. He stepped back as both vampire and executive producer turned on him. But probably not. You guys can just go back to ignoring me.

 Tony, Henry continued, emphatically doing just that, will pull the laptop into the house, and use the information on it to find a way to talk to the maid. Shell tell him what was in Caulfields journal, hell usethat information to either defeat the darkness in the basement or work around it and get the house open.

 There are a great many ifs in this plan.

 Got a better one?

 CB snorted. I foresee one other problem, he said, not bothering to answer Henrys question. Will the laptop work inside the house? According to my people, equipment batteries were draining rapidly all day.

 Henry patted the laptop case. Ah, but this doesnt run on batteries.

 Magic?

 Apparently.

 CB stepped away from the porch and indicated that Graham should approach. Then lets begin.

 As Graham sidled past him, he paused, and peered up into the taller mans face. Hes a vampire. The merest hint of a glance back at Henry. Did you know hes a vampire?

 Yes.

 And that doesnt bother you?

 You speak to the dead.

 Yeah, but I dont suck blood.

 I have only your word for that.





 

 Brianna stepped past the lantern sitting on the threshold the compromise between all of them crowding into the bathroom and privacy. Okay, next. And dont worry, the boys mostly scared about strange people coming in his room. She glanced around at the half circle of silent faces. What?

 What boy? Ashley snapped.

 The boy whose room it is, Zitface. The younger girl rolled her eyes. Hes not even a little bit gross. I want to see the baby.

 Just hang on a minute. Tina cut off both Ashleys reply and any potential attack on her sister. Theres a boy in the bathroom?

 Yeah, but you can see through him, so . . . She pursed her lips and blew a disinterested raspberry.

 You can see the ghost of a boy in the bathroom?

 Duh.

 Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

 Releasing her hold on Ashley, Tina grabbed the wardrobe assistants arm, keeping her from bolting. Brenda, calm down.

 Calm down? Calm down! How am I supposed to calm down! Theres a dead person in the bathroom!

 Theres going to be another one right here if you don't shut the hell up, Kate growled.

 Amy stepped forward and leaned over the threshold, "I dont see anything.

 Maybe thats because youre in on it, too. Kate folded her arms as Amy leaned back to glare at her. Well, you could be!

 Brianna shrugged. She doesnt hear the baby neither. She cocked her head. I dont hear the baby.

 Maybe youre too far away?

 You can always hear the baby.

 Kates lip curled. Unless Tonys playing ghosts again.

 Oh, for fucks sake and for the last time! Amy snapped. Tony has nothing to do with this! You dont know him. Until tonight, youve hardly ever spoken two words to him. Youre totally losing it.

 Thats not helping, Tina warned as the two younger women moved closer together.

 You people are all nuts! Whites showing all the way around her eyes, Brenda jerked her arm free and ran for the door of the suite.

 Tina swore and raced after her.

 The other four watched as the script supervisor crossed the dressing room and disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom. They winced in unison at the soft hard crash of flesh and furniture hitting the floor. After a moment, Tina limped back into the light, alone.

 I lost her in the dark, but I think she made it to the hall. Im sure shell be able to see the light of the other lantern coming up the stairs. Shell head right for it.

 Shell head right for Lee, Amy snorted.

 Kate snickered an agreement.

 Do we go after her?

 Ill go.

 Tina grabbed Briannas arm on her way by. No, you wont.

 Ashley pushed past Amy still standing by the bathroom door. You guys can do what you want, but Im going to pee. Any boy shows up and Ill slap him stupid.

 She will, too. Brianna tugged experimentally on Tinas grip, and relaxed against her side when it became obvious she Was going nowhere. She slapped Stevvie so hard his nose bled. It was pretty gross.

 Brenda will be fine. Tinas tone suggested that the Wardrobe assistant wouldnt dare not be.

 Amy shoved her hands into the front pockets of her black cargo pants and rocked forward on her toes. You know, that sounds a lot like famous last wo . . . Tinas expression froze her in place. Never mind.





 

 She hadnt expected it to be so completely dark. Eyes open so wide they hurt, Brenda bounced off the side of the dressing room door and out into the hall. Arms outstretched, swaying in place, she tried to get her bearings.

 There was someone with her in the hall!

 Someone angry!

 Too terrified to scream, she turned and ran.

 Stumbled.

 Found her balance.

 Kept running.

 Her left side slammed into something that moved and she grabbed at it as she fell. Wood. Smooth wood. And a handle. The door to the back stairs. It was open, swinging out into the hall. Shed run the wrong way, but she could get down the stairs to the kitchen and then find the others. Find Lee. Lee would make it right.





 

 Eyes narrowed, Amy moved out to the edge of the lantern light. Did you hear that?

 It was the toilet. Tina folded her arms and glared at her companions. Ithought I told you no flushing until we were all done? With the power off, we only have the water in the lines.

 Toilets dont thud.

 Like someone chopping? Brianna asked brightly. Whack. Chunk.

 No . . .

 It was the toilet, Tina repeated. Keep the girls from running off while I use it.

 Im not going anywhere, Ashley muttered as Amy took hold of Briannas arm. Dont touch me.

 It wasnt the toilet, Brianna insisted.

 Kate nodded in agreement. Sounded like an ax.





 

 The stairs were narrow enough she could touch both sides. She moved as quickly as she could on the steep uneven footing. Stumbled again at the bottom when suddenly there were no more steps. Groped for the table. Hand walked along the long side. Off the end. One hand still holding on, she reached for the wall.

 Her fingers brushed something solid.

 Something cold.

 The basement door.

 Itwas in the basement.

 Lee!





 

 Tony shook off the sound of Stephen and Cassies death in time to see Lee leap to his feet and cross to the edge of the circle, stumbling over Adams legs and ignoring the 1ADs creative cursing.

 Brenda?

 Very faintly, from nowhere in particular, they heard a terrified, Lee!

 Brenda! He paced the edge of the curve. Where the hell is she?

 Shes not upstairs.

 No shit!

 Mason shrugged and lit another cigarette. Fine. So you dont need my help.

 Pivoting on one heel, Lee recrossed the circle. He looked, Tony thought, like he was trying to catch her scent.Or Ive just spent way too much time with Henry .

 Brenda! And across again. Im going after her.

 You dont even know where she is, Pavin muttered.

 And youre not taking the lantern. Mason hooked his foot around the base and slid it closer to his chair.

 Fine. Lee dropped to one knee by the box of candles. I dont need the damned lantern, but Iam going after her.

 No ones going anywhere, Peter began, his hands spread and his voice reasonable.

 Shes in trouble.

 You dont know that. Reason began shading toward annoyance, but Peter managed to pull it back. She just went off to use the bathroom.

 Yeah, and since shes calling for me, I suspect shes not using it now! He snatched the lighter from Masons hand and lit the candle. Im going to go . . . uh . . . The candlelight threw his puzzled expression into sharp relief.

 Tony understood his hesitation. The house had stretched and twisted Brendas voice so that it could have come from anywhere.

 Glass broke.

 Dining room!

 Step over the salt! Over it! Ah, Jesus, right through it. . .

 Snatching up a candle, Tony followed.





 

 She thought the light was from the hall, but it was a candle, on the floor and shielded so that had she come out of the butlers pantry at any other angle she wouldnt have seen it.

 Light glinted off glass.

 Hartley?

 Sitting on the floor by an open cabinetone door hanging at a crazy anglethe boom operator straightened and lowered the now empty bottle.

 The rush of relief was so great she had to grab the back of one of the dining room chairs. Trust Hartley to find the booze in an empty house. Im so glad to see you, she murmured as he stood, still holding the bottle loosely in one hand. I thought I was following Lees voice, but I guess I wasnt.

 Leesh not here. He staggered toward her and, although it was hard to tell for sure because his eyes were just at the edge of the small circle of light, he didnt seem to be focusing very well.

 Are you drunk? Because you know what CB said . . .

 The bottle smashing against the edge of the table cut oft her comment.

 Brenda!

 Lee? She pivoted around her grip on the chair . . .





 

 It was so dark in the dining room it looked as though Hartley had drawn a line of shadow across Brendas throat. Tony didnt exactly find lines of shadow comforting, but they were infinitely preferable to the way the candlelight reflected off the liquid that flowed glistening down over the wardrobe assistants chest.

 Brendas eyes widened. Her hand came up to clutch her throat. She gasped. Gurgled. Crumpled.

 Lee surged forward, the movement blowing out his candle, and caught her before she hit the floor.

 Tony stared past the two of them at Hartley who was turning the broken bottle so that the dark stain gleamed in the flickering flame of the candle melted onto the floor.

 Murder.

 Suicide . . .

 Crap!

 This wasnt a replay. This was real life. Real death. Really happening.

 Lee was yelling. Voices out in the hall were answering.

 Tony somehow managed to get to Hartleys side without his candle blowing out.

 The boom operator looked over at him, blinked, and stammered, Hate that d . . . d . . . damned music. Then he tossed the broken glass aside and bent to pull another bottle from the cabinet.

 Jamming his candle into one arm of the candelabra on the sideboard, Tony launched himself onto the older mans back. The rush of air blew both candles out.





 

 Graham sat back on his heels and swiped at the beads of sweat on his forehead. Theyre not answering.

 Keep calling. They might just be distracted. We have no idea whats happening in there. Henry frowned down at the mediums expression. Do we?

 Know someone named Brenda Turpin?

 Old wood shuddered as CB stepped up on the small porch. She works for me.

 Workedfor you, Graham corrected matter-of-factly. Shes dead.

 Trapped? Henry asked. Like the others?

 Well, I didnt feel her leave . . .

 But you felt her die?

 He nodded. And it wasnt pretty.

 It never is.

 Chapter Ten

 ?? ?

 TONY WAS JUST as glad that Hartleys howling protests were drowning out most of the noises Lee was making. Unable to see anything in the pitch-black dining room, he fought to hold down the struggling boom operator.

 What is goingon in here?

 As Tinas irritated question followed the light from the second lantern into the room, Tony shifted back and pinned Hartleys arms with his knees. The howling stopped and Lees cries faded to pained gasping for breath. It might have been Lee . . .

 It might have been Brenda.

 Holy crap. Amys quiet observation held horror enough that Tony managed to twist around to see the women grouped in the doorway staring down at Lee holding Brenda crumpled across his lap. Tony could only see the curve of his back and Brendas legs, but Lee looked broken and Brenda far too still.

 Lots of blood! Brianna pushed between Amys and Tinas hips. Is she dead?

 I dont . . . she isnt . . . I cant . . . Lee shook his head, hair flicking back and forth with the violence of his denial, then he curled even more tightly around the body.

 Not Brenda.

 The body.

 Amy stepped forward as Peter, Zev, and Adam pushed in from the hall. Zev took one look at the tableau and grabbed the girls, pulling them back out of the dining room.

 I already saw! Brianna protested.

 Then you can get out of the way, Zev told her calmly. Ashley, Mason stayed in the circle; maybe you should go sit with him so hes not alone.

 Her hearts not beating, Amy murmured over the sound of Ashley leaving. It was fast, Lee, there was nothing you could do. The carotid artery was cut. Wound like this, you bleed out in less than three minutes.

 How do you know?

 Tony could hear hope in Lees question and maybe, just maybe, a slight relaxing together of all the bits and pieces hed become.

 I saw it on a television show. Amy sat back on her heels, and Tony could just see her face over the black line of Lees shoulder. Somehow the magenta hair and heavily mascaraed eyes lent weight to her explanation. This was death. Goth girls knew about death. Right?

 It was the same situation, she continued solemnly, except it was a gunshot and not a wardrobe assistant, but the same wound. Bled out in less than three. There was . . . She gripped his shoulder, the black tips on magenta nails disappearing against his jacket. . . . nothing you could do.

 Why was there nothing Tony could do, then? Kate drawled. Hes supposed to be on top of all this.

 Shes right. I know whats happening. Im the one talking to the ghosts. Im the one with the metaphysical powers. I should have gone after Hartley.

 Hello. Amy ground out the word through clenched teeth. Hes sitting on the perp.

 Too little, too late. And I think . . .

 No one gives a flying fuck what you think! Without rising or releasing her hold on Lees shoulder, she swiveled around. Peter!

 Given the directors reaction, Tony could imagine Amys expression.

 Yeah. Right. Uh, Kate, be quiet, youre not helping. Lee, let Brenda go, and well carry her in and lay her beside Tom.

 What do we do with Hartley?

 And once again, Tony found himself at the center of attention.

 Hartley, his right cheek flattened against the floor, glared up at him with one bloodshot eye.

 Duct tape.

 Kate, thats not . . . Peter paused and Tony all but heard everyone considering it. Actually, thats a good idea.

 Once Mouse arrived in the dining room, Hartley stopped struggling. Given their relative sizes, there wasnt much point and Hartley was generally not an aggressive drunk. Tony slipped back and let the larger man flip Hartley over and effortlessly cocoon his arms to his sides.

 Whyd you do it? Whyd you do it? Mouse moaned the words over and over as he moved down Hartleys body and began to tape his legs together. No longer needed, Tony stood and backed away. He didnt understand the look Mouse shot him. He wasnt sure he wanted to. The cameraman had been double shadow-held.If Mouse snaps, were fucking doomed .

 Why did he do it? Tina wiped tears off her cheeks with the flat of her hand, unaware she was repeating Mouses quiet mantra. I cant remember Brenda ever saying more than two words to him.

 It wasnt him, Tony reminded her wearily. He stepped back as Adam and Lee lifted BrendaAmy covering her face and the ruin of her throat with Lees tuxedo jacket. It was the house. Nothing thats happened here tonight is anyones fault. The thing in the basement is using us. Manipulating us.

 And theres nothing we can do?

 Survive until morning. He wasnt aware he was clutching his throat until he saw the direction of Kates scowl. Forced his hand back to his side. Put them both in his pockets just in case.

 You didnt cover his mouth, Peter observed as Mouse hauled Hartley upright and slung him over his shoulder, duct tape creaking ominously.

 Nose is plugged.

 And youre afraid hell suffocate?

 Let him, Kate muttered as Mouse grunted an assent.

 All right. That is it from you! Tina blew her nose and turned on the younger woman, her words emerging with the kind of distinct enunciation achieved only by nuns and senior NCOs. I am sick and tired of your attitude, young lady. From now on, you will either have something constructive to say or you will keep your mouth shut. Am I understood?

 Even the house seemed to be waiting for Kates answer.

 Tony had gone to a Catholic elementary school and lessons learned under the steely-eyed glare of the older nuns lingered. Apparently, Kate had also had involuntary responses installed by the Sister Mary Magdalenes of the world.

 Yes, maam. Strangely, she looked almost peaceful as she turned to follow Tina into the hall.

 She knows whos in charge, Tony realized, stepping out of Mouses way. He picked up the two candles, his and Hartleys, and waited for Peter, who held the lantern, to leave the room.

 But the director stood staring down at the dark puddle on the floor, apparently unaware that the others had left. He moved the light back and forth, mesmerized by the reflection of the flame. After a long moment, he sighed. Thats way too much blood, people. Lets try and keep it realistic.

 Peter?

 You may know whats happening, but youre not responsible for any of this, Tony. His voice was low, too low to be overheard by anyone more than an arms length away. I am. Thats why I get the big bucks.

 Peter, as much as Tina, was the voice of reason. She couldnt hold them in place alone. He couldnt slip.

 Tony snorted. CB pays big bucks?

 The older man started, stared at him for a moment, then he snorted in turn. Relatively speaking. Come on, theyll need the light.





 

 They left Hartley lying inside the circle of salt staring sullenly at the ceiling. The pair of candles lit so Peter could carry the lantern into the dining room were left burning, the second lantern blown out so as not to waste the kerosene, and everyone followed Brendas body into the drawing room.

 They set her down next to Tom. Lees hands were visibly shaking as he released her shoulders and straightened. Although Adam moved to join the others, he remained standing over her, facing away from the group, the back of his dress shirt a brilliant white like a beacon reflecting the lantern light.

 I should go to him. He needs . .. Except that Tony had no idea what he needed.

 It was Mason who finally broke the tableau. Mason, who had made vested self-interest a cornerstone of his personality, stepped forward until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Lee and offered him a cigarette.

 Lee looked down at Masons hand, up at his face, and almost smiled. No thanks, I dont smoke.

 Good. He slipped the cigarette back into his jacket pocket. Because its my last one.

 Almost became actually and Lees teeth flashed as he shook his head. Jackass.

 And I thought you gay guys were supposed to be the sensitive ones, Amy muttered, so close to his ear her breath lapped warm against his skin.

 Hed have suggested she bite him, but given the distance . . .

 As Lee turned, he almost seemed to be searching for something. Someone. His eyes locked on Tonys face just for an instant and, for that instant, flashed . . . relief? Tony was too distracted by the dark stain dimming the brightness of his shirtfront to be sure. By the time he looked up again, Lee was moving away from the body and Amy was moving toward it and Zevs hand was around his arm. A quick squeeze. And gone.

 Is anyone going to say words over the body, Amy asked as she worked off her two remaining rings.

 No one said anything over Tom, Adam pointed out.

 Yeah, well, Tom took us by surprise.

 And we expectedthis ?

 Amys arched brow was answer enough. She waited. Fine. Ill do it. A deep breath. A glance down at the bodies, the rings jingling in one hand. To the living, death sucks. But to the dead, its just another stop on the journey. Have a nice trip.

 That was . . . Tina began.

 . . . stupid, Ashley finished. Because theyre not going anywhere, theyre just trapped in the house like all the other dead people.

 You think you can do it better?

 I never said that.

 Then shut up.

 You shut up.

 Girls . . . Tinas voice held obvious warning. The phrase clear and present danger chased itself around Tonys head.

 Amy rolled her eyes and dropped to one knee, lifting the edge of Lees jacket off Brendas face with one hand and dropping her rings on the dead womans eyes with the other. Anyone else goes, she murmured, and were going to have to hope silver plating works as well.

 Foreshadowing, Tony thought. And he could see the word on a couple of other faces.Just what we need . Movement at the far end of the room caught his eye, and he turned, expecting to see Cassie and Stephen but instead seeing only the faint gray outline of the mirror. Hed managed to be elsewhere when Peter had ordered the hair spray cleaned off after finishing the cocktail party scene. Given the length of the room, he was surprised that the lantern light reached that far. On second thought, he wasnt sure that it did.

 Movement in the mirror had nothing to do with movement in the room. Shapes offered other shapes something.

 Tea. Little cakes. Faces, made indistinct by distance, formed and re-formed as cups rose and fell and dropped to the carpet when the convulsions started.

 Is that how we left him?

 Amys question snapped his head back around so quickly he nearly kinked his neck. Toms left hand lay by his side, the fingers curled up so that chewed fingernails pointed toward the ceiling. His right rested palm down on his thigh. Under the tarp, his head flopped a little to one side. Tony couldnt remember how theyd left him.

 Who looked that closely? Adam muttered, more or less voicing Tonys thought.

 I think it would be cool if he walked around, Brianna sighed. You guys never did zombies yet.

 Episode after next, Amy said without looking up.

 Seriously? Mason didnt sound thrilled. Tony couldnt blame him. The whole walking undead thing was just too easy to parody. Once Sara Polley took up arms against an army of animated corpses, zombies were done to deathat least on the Canadian side of the border.

 Writers were finishing the final draft when I left the office.

 Peter . . .

 Not now, Mason.

 Amy nodded, having come to a decision. Of course thats how he was. Im sure.

 She almost sounded sure.

 That would have to be good enough.

 You have a safe trip, too. She lightly touched Toms shoulder before she stood, then tugged her Hello Kitty T-shirt down and headed for the door. Lets get back into the circle and this time, letsall stay there.

 Brianna, Ashley, come on. Zev tugged the girls into motion and everyone else followed behind; walking slowly like mourners leaving a funeral. Which, Tony supposed, was what they were. Amy was right, Tom had taken them by surprise and they hadnt so much mourned him as feared for themselves. Brenda, they grieved for.

 He watched Lees bowed shoulders, found himself wondering just how much the other man grieved, and almost hated himself for it.

 Tony?

 Right. Sorry. He hurried to catch up to Peter and Adam.

 Isnt this great, the 1AD muttered. We have our own morgue. Its like were being punished for inflicting yet another gumshoe with fangs on the viewing public.

 This seems a little extreme for bad television, Peter sighed.

 Episode nine.

 Even for that.

 The silence waiting for them in the hall seemed weighted. The people waiting, numbed. Amy knelt by Hartley, everyone else stood around the outside edge of the circle.

 Peter pushed past. What is it?

 Amys voice had lost most of its highs and lows. Hes dead. It looks like he puked and choked on it.

 Youre sure?

 I watched a lot ofDa Vincis Inquest . Her lip curled. And besides, its pretty obvious.

 Eww, puke. But even Brianna seemed to have lost her interest in the ghoulish.

 Right. All right. Peter visibly pulled fraying bits back together. Saleen, Pavin, carry him into the drawing room beside the others. Dont even start with me, he continued as the sound tech opened his mouth to protest. Half the time its like you two arent even here. Amy . . .

 Earrings. Her hands rose to the first of four silver hoops in her right ear. Im on it.

 Sorge led the way with the lantern, then Amy, then the body. No one said anything. No one followed.

 At least it was his own vomit, Adam observed thoughtfully as the body passed.

 Tony would have laughed, wouldnt have been able to stop himself from laughing, except that the lights came up and Karl started shrieking as he burned.

 



 

 Some of the moisture beading Grahams forehead was rain. Most of it wasnt. Breathing heavily, he sat back on his heels and shook his head. Still nothing. Theyre there. I can feel them, eh, but its like they dont know where I am.

 The house. CB made it an accusation, not a question.

 Yeah, sure, probably. So what? Theres nothing I can do. I need a beer. He started to stand but Henrys hand came down on his shoulder and held him in place.

 When were done, you can drink yourself into a stupor if you need to. Henry reached past the medium with his other hand. Try again while Im in contact with the house.

 And thatll do what?

 Like calls to like.

 Yeah. Okay. Graham watched the pale fingers approach the closest point the house allowed. Itll just throw you off.

 Hazel eyes darkened. Let it try.

 



 

 At least Karl doesnt take too long. Cassie rubbed her arms, hands ghosting over the rivulets of blood without disturbing them. I need to get out of this bathroom.

 Stephen snorted. Its not Karl that takes the time, its his mother. And what a way to go; poking her eyes out with knitting needles might not have even killed her.

 I thinkit made sure she was dead.

 Well, yeah. He sat down on the edge of the tub, the blood splatters from their deaths evident on porcelain and paint. Did it seem faster this time?

 Karl?

 The time between us and Karl.

 I dont know. Cassie reached out and lightly touched her reflection in the mirror. Her face was whole and she never tired of looking at it.

 It seemed faster to me. I thinkits speeding things up, putting more pressure on them now that theyve started to crack. I mean, we barely pulled ourselves back together after dying when we were back in here again. And theres two more dead.

 I know. Her eyes were . . . were . . . Stephen, what color were my eyes?

 Her brother shrugged and fixed his head in one practiced motion. I dont know.

 Blue?

 Sure.

 Gray?

 If you want.

 Stephen!

 Karls stop . . . Stephen didnt so much stand as he was suddenly on his feet. Can you feel that?

 Cassie frowned and turned from the mirror. Its Graham. He wants us.

 Its more than Graham! Eyes wide, he reached for her and was still reaching an instant later in the kitchen. How did we get here?

 A young man, his head lying in a spreading puddle of blood, appeared and disappeared by the corner of the table.

 Cassie, look! Colins being pulled out of sequence!

 Grahams never done that . . . Only their lack of substance kept them from slamming into the wall by the back door. . . . before. She spun around to face the door, parts of her moving faster than others, legs swirling unsubstantially in an effort to catch up. All right, were here. Stop shouting!

 



 

 Power surged up his arm, locking his muscles into agonizing rigidity. The house fought to force him away. He fought to remain in contact. The flesh between suffered.

 It burned.

 And it froze.

 And it melted off his bones.

 Ive got them.

 Henry heard the voice, couldnt quite comprehend the words. Knew they were important, couldnt remember why.

 Then warm points of contact on each arm. Warm and painfully tight.

 The slow and steady beating of a mortal heart beneath his cheek brought him back to himself. He could hear blood moving purposefully. Feel the gentle rhythm of mortal breathing. Feel solid muscle, below, beside, almost all the way around him. Smell expensive cologne over meat. He opened his eyes.

 He was lying across CBs lap, cradled in the big mans arms. It was an unexpected position, but it felt surprisingly safe which was a good thing since leaving it seemed to be temporarily out of the question. What happened?

 CB smiled, dark eyes crinkling at the corners, but before he could speak, another voice broke in.

 You were kind of vibrating inside this red light, not making any noise, but it looked like you were screaming. The boss grabbed your arms, and when the red light tossed him away, you came too.

 Chris. Henry managed to turn his head and saw the three members of the production crew standing and staring down at him. Teeth clenched, feeling more like throwing up than he had in four-hundred-odd yearsa remarkably effective way of keeping the Hunter at bayhe flopped his head back around until he could see CB again. You knew the house would push you away.

 And I figured Id take you with me. This close, his voice was a bass rumble in the depths of a broad chest.

 That explains why my arms hurt.

 Indeed.

 I wouldnt have been able to get loose on my own. No point in lying about it.

 So I surmised.

 Areyou all right?

 He put a dent in the side of the generator truck.

 I own the generator truck, Mr. Singh; I can dent it if I choose.

 Sure, Boss.

 Why are you three still here? Theres nothing you can do.

 After a long moment, Henry heard feet shuffling in damp gravel. Chris cleared his throat. Well, theres weird shit going down and we wanted to see how it ends.

 Besides, Karen added, those are our friends trapped inside that house. Just because we cant do anything now doesnt mean we cant do something later.

 Commendable. For now, I suggest you get out of the rain.

 Ah. Right. Rain. After a while it became such a normal part of life on the West Coast it was easy to ignore. Henry rubbed a dribble of water off his cheek against the smooth fabric of CBs trench coat.

 Well be in the craft services truck if you need us, Boss. And much more quietly as they moved away, voice barely touching innuendo, You think they want to be alone?

 CB, Henry realized as the other man shifted beneath him, hadnt heard. Probably for the best. He was comfortable, recovering in this position that parodied passion, and had no wish to be tossed aside as smart-ass employees were summarily dealt with.

 Old Arogoth, he said after a moment, is really starting to annoy me.

 Youve felt its power. Can Tony defeat it?

 Henry could lie and make CB believe him, but theyd moved past that back in the spring. I hope so.

 If he gets my daughters out. . .

 Carefully pulling himself up into a sitting position, Henry watched the other mans face as he stared up into the night sky, rain beading against mahogany skin. Conscious of the scrutiny, the ex-linebacker lowered his head and met the vampires gaze. Henry could read no promises in his dark eyes, none of the futile bargains with death hed heard made a thousand times.

 If he gets your daughters out? he asked softly. Curious.

 Broad shoulders shrugged. Ill thank him.

 Okay . . .

 Both men turned toward the caretaker, the contact between them stretching to fill the new space.

 . . . Cassie and Stephenll tell your friend Tony to come to the door and get his laptop, but they wont be able to do it right away. They got dragged back to the bathroom and theyll have to wait until the replay is over.

 Replay? Henry asked as he got carefully to his feet. When he swayed, a warm hand closed around his elbow and steadied him.

 Graham shrugged. Yeah, well, replays what Tony calls it. The deaths the house has collected are running over and overtheyre powering the malevolence . . .

 Arogoth.

 Yeah, whoever. Another shrug. These replays, theyre throwing off enough dark energy to drive even the most stable person nuts. Its how the malevolence does it; throws all kinds of dark and spooky crap at you until you break. Just, usually, it does it slower because it has more time.

 And my girls are in the midst of that? CBs grip tightened. Had Henry been a mortal man, it would have done damage. Of violent death replaying over and over?

 Kind of. But not really. So far, only Tony is experiencing it.

 So far?

 Sitting splay-legged on the porch, sagging back against the lower part of the railing, Graham shrugged a third and final time.

 



 

 When Tony opened his eyes, he could still see Charles broken body superimposed over Zev. He reached out and gently tugged the music director a little to the left.

 What?

 You dont want to know.

 Zev thought about it for a moment then nodded. All right.

 Things had settled after Hartleys body had been taken away. Tina had split up the basket of food shed brought down from Masons dressing room after the bathroom break and everyone sat quietly eating. With everyone holding tightly to the normalcy of food, Tony doubted theyd even noticed hed been gone.

 Tony! You have to go to the back door!

 He jumped as Stephen and Cassie appeared directly in front of him. Jumped again as Cassie grabbed for his arm and the cold raised gooseflesh from the edge of his T-shirt to his wrist. As they began to talk, overlapping each others sentences, it spread.

 . . . and if Lucy read the journal, she might be able to tell you how to deal with the malevolence.

 The lights came up with a scream, and from the conservatory came the wet crunch of limbs being hacked off.

 Tony wrapped his arms around his torso, shivered, and waited. And waited.

 As he recalled, the old woman did a thorough job. Dismembered. Buried. Was that the sound of a shovel? Finally, rat poison.

 This time, when the entryway reappeared, lantern lit and smelling ever so faintly of sweat and vomit, Amys hand came out of nowhere and impacted with his face.

 Ow!

 Sorry. Except she didnt look sorry; she looked disturbingly disappointed that she wasnt going to be able to hit him again. At least the numbness shed been wrapped in since Hartleys death had disappeared. We thought youd been possessed.

 His cheek throbbed. I was waiting out another replay!

 Well, yeah. We know that now.

 I mentioned it at the time, Zev pointed out.

 I wanted to stick you with pins. Brianna smiled at him over the edge of her muffin. But Zev said no. The poopy head.

 Just Zev? Given the evening so far, stupid question.

 Well, what did they say?

 Say? If the second replay was identical to the first, the gardener had been quickly unconscious and the old woman had said nothing as she methodically hacked him to pieces.

 Amy rolled her eyes and her arm twitched. The ghosts you were obviously listening to before you went away.

 Oh, them!

 Oh, them, she repeated sarcastically. Messages from beyond the grave should never be taken lightly! Share!

 I need to go to the back door.

 Kate snorted. The hell you do.

 A friend of mineHenry, he added to Zev who nodded, has my laptop there.

 Kate snorted again, this time adding a sneer. And this is exactly the situation that needs a game of spider solitaire.

 Arra used to tell the future with spider solitaire. This didnt seem to be the time to bring that up.

 Tony stepped to one side so that Amy no longer stood between him and the bulk of their companions. Graham Brummel, the caretaker, is a medium. When everyone accepted that without throwing things, he continued. He told Cassie and Stephen that one of the ghosts who died while Creighton Caulfield was still alive may know how we can deal with the thing in the basement. I need my laptop so I can figure out how to talk to that ghost.

 Why? Peter asked, crossing his arms. Youve been talking to the brother and sister all along.

 Because the caretaker is their cousin and he redefined them as individuals, pulled them away from . . . uh . . .

 Death? Amy offered.

 Yeah, death.

 So your laptop came with software for talking to the dead. Peter used the tone he saved for dealing with unfinished sets, unlearned lines, and extras in general. You got lucky, Tony. All I got on mine was a copy of Jukebox.

 They were clearly not going to let him leave until he explained. No point in making a run for it since the light faded to total and complete darkness just past the curved line of salt. Granted, he could just wait for the next replay and move through the lit halls of that earlier time, but given the varying edges the group seemed balanced on, he couldnt guarantee hed survive the experience. He really didnt want to be the headliner in the next murder/suicide.

 On the other hand, the explanation wasnt likely to win him any friends.

 Were waiting, Tony.

 While only Kate looked actively hostile, even Amy, Zev, and Leethe three whod been on his side throughout looked impatient. Well, mostly Lee still looked shattered, but the impatience was there as well.

 We know youre hiding something from us.

 Spill.

 He took a deep breath. Tom was dead and Brenda was dead and Hartley was dead, so in comparison . . . Arra left me the laptop . . . her laptop. She left lessons on it. Lessons on how to be a wizard.

 Say what? Amy spoke first, but they all wore nearly identical expressions of incredulous disbelief.

 Arra was a wizard. He had to take another deep breath before he could manage the corollary. Im a wizard.

 Harry Potter, Brianna announced.

 Gandalf, her sister added.

 Fiction, Mason snapped as Sorge muttered something in French that sounded distinctly uncomplimentary.

 Thats not like some strange euphemism for gay, is it? Adam demanded.

 Tonys turn for incredulous disbelief. For what?

 Because we allknow that.

 No. Wizard. Like Harry Potter. He gestured at Brianna. And Gandalf. And at Ashley. Finally at Mason. Seven words. Masons lighter lifted off his thigh and slapped into Tonys hand. And its nonfiction. He tossed the lighter back to Mason who instinctively caught it, then let it slide out of his hand onto the floor.Yep, its covered in wizard cooties . According to Arra, its just a slightly left-of-center way to manipulate energies.

 Brianna dove for the lighter. I want to manipulate energy!

 Its not something everyone can do.

 Im not everyone!

 Why doesnt Tony check you out later, Zev suggested, pulling the lighter from her hand.

 Amys hands were on her hips. So Arra was a wizard?

 Yeah.

 Did CB know?

 Yeah.

 And youre a wizard?

 Sort of.

 And does he know about you?

 Yeah.

 She smacked him hard on the arm. So why the hell didnt you tell me?

 CB didnt want any of this to get out. CB hadnt actually said Tony couldnt tell people. Theyd been in full agreement on that. He glanced around the circle of staring faces. You know how weird people can get about this kind of thing.

 What kind of thing?

 You know, telling people youre a wizard.

 He has a point, Sorge murmured, nodding.

 His head points, Amy snapped. Hello! Haunted house! People dying! I think at that point CB might have let you mention . . .

 Dance music drowned out her last words.

 The lights came up.

 Great. The ballroom.

 Before he could decide what to doshould he put himself physically in front of the doors in case Brianna slipped the leash againhe heard laughing from the drawing room.

 That couldnt be good.

 Brenda and Hartley danced out into the hall. Like Cassie and Stephen, Brenda remained drenched in blood. Hartley had lost the duct tape and was remarkably light on his feet. Tom shuffled gracelessly behind them; his broken bones an apparent handicap.

 Who the hell is coming up with the rules for this shit?

 Both men shot him somewhat sheepish looks as they passed.

 Come and dance with us, Brenda purred over Hartleys shoulder. Just let the music pick you up and carry you along.

 I dont think so, Tony snarled.

 Im not talking to you, asshole.

 Oh, crap . . .

 He turned and could just barely make out the translucent forms of Kate and Mouse and Lee and Mason. The shadow-held. And Briannawhose youth made her susceptible to the other side. Currently, the side he was standing on.

 Dont let anyone leave the circle. Loud enough to be heard over the music. Loud enough to be heard over any shouting going on back in the real world. Loud enough to be heard across the divide. Loud enough they realized he was serious. Sit on them if you have to!

 Leeeeeee . . . Brenda sang the vowels. You want to be with me, dont you? You let me die. You owe me.

 Cheap shot, Tony growled, placing himself between her and the actor.

 She smiled; her teeth red. Hes mine, not yours.

 Youll have to go through me to get him.

 Through you . . .

 He stood his ground as the ghosts danced closer.

 . . . all right.

 



 

 Dancing. We should all go dancing! Smiling broadly, Mason grabbed Ashleys hands and began to swing her around. Everything will be fine if we just go dancing.

 She tried to pull away. Tony said . . .

 Tonys a PA, what does he know?

 Let go of me!

 Were going, d . . .AMN it!

 



 

 Stephens hand passing through his arm had been cold. This was so much colder it was almost pain with temperature. Ice shards in his blood. Muscles tensed past stillness into trembling. The taste of copper in his mouth as he fought to breathe.

 Tonys legs folded and his knees slammed hard against wood. He jackknifed forward, gasped in pain, managed to fill his lungs. Coughing, hands braced against the floor, he looked up to see Tom leaving the hall with Brenda and Hartley dancing behind.

 No! Its not fair! The internal struggle to turn the dance was evident on Brendas face. I could have had him!

 The call of the ballroom was too strong. Cassie and Stephen were safe in the bathroom. Their place. Brenda and Hartley hadnt yet had a replay to anchor them in the dining room and Tom . . . who the hell knew.

 He could hear Brenda protesting until the lights dimmed and he knelt, coughing and shivering at the edge of the lamplight.

 Tony?

 Amy. Beside him. Unable to straighten up, he got his head around. Shed dropped to one knee and was studying him like she was on the bomb squad and he was liable to explode at any moment. Is everyone okay? he coughed.

 Areyou okay?

 I asked first. It wasnt much of a smile, but she seemed to appreciate it.

 Well, Masons a little bruised. Ashley got freaked by the whole take me dancing number and kicked him in the nuts. Did you know she plays soccer?

 He didnt.

 Yeah, well, his Beckhams are a little bent, let me tell you. Mouse curled up in a ball. Zev stopped Brianna from running by lifting her off the floor, and the rest of us did what you suggested and sat on Lee and Kate. And by the way, it totally sucks that I seem to be without any psychic sensitivity.

 His eyebrows may have risen. He was still so cold he couldnt tell for sure. You haveno kind of sensitivity.

 Bite me. Shuffling closer, she tucked her hands under his arm. Youre freezing. What happened?

 Ghosts. Brenda and Hartley and Tom. The ballroom called them and Brenda and Hartley danced through me.

 Danced?

 I think it was a two-step.

 How the hell do you know what a two-step looks like?

 Square dance club. He tried to keep all his weight from sagging into her grip and almost succeeded.

 Gay square dance club? she grunted heaving him back onto his heels.

 Duh. I went with an ex.

 I cant think of another reason . . . Whats that on the floor?

 Exposed as he lifted his left hand, silver glinted against the wood.

 She stopped him from bending forward. Youll break your nose. Ill get it.

 Four rings. Two earrings. The metal slightly frosted.

 I dont think theyre working anymore.

 No shit.I think Ill just tuck them out of sight. Suiting action to words, she slipped them into the lower pocket on her cargo pants and stood. Right. Lets get you on your feet.

 Actually, Im fine down here.

 You going to crawl to the back door, then, Mr. Merlin?

 Right. The back door. Tony sighed and let her help him to his feet. He couldnt stop shivering, but other than the lingering chill, he seemed fine. He didnt want to turn and face the voices behind themrising, falling, accusing, whimperingbut he knew he didnt have a choice.

 I wont need the other lantern.

 Conversations stopped. Kate scowled at Saleen and Pavin until they let her go. Mouse remained curled in a fetal position on the floorbest possible reaction for a guy who once won a fistfight with a bear as far as Tony was concerned. Sure, the bear was handicapped by not actually having fists, but that was pretty much moot. Sorge stood next to Mouse. Face red, Mason still cradled his dignity; Zev had both girls now and was glaring protectively. Lee sat flanked by Peter and Adam, his lashes wet ebony triangles, his bloody dress shirt in a pile beside him on the floor. Unfortunately, Brendas blood had soaked through to the white T-shirt hed worn beneath it.

 Shit! Wheres Tina?

 Then he saw her over by the door, tears glistening on her cheeks as she stared down at Everett.

 Is Everett. . . ?

 She shook her head without looking up. Hes still breathing.

 Well, yay. Funny thing to cry about.

 You wont need the other lantern, Amy prodded, adding a sharp elbow to the ribs.

 Yeah, uh, the replays are coming faster, so Ill just move while the lights are up.

 Peter shook his head. Youre not going alone.

 Peter . . .

 Tony. His smile held no humor and very little patience. Let me rephrase that in a way youll understand. Youre not going alone.

 Fine. Amy . . .

 She stays here. Same reasons as before. Lee . . .

 No way, hes . . .. ..falling apart. But Tony couldnt actually say it.

 As he stepped closer, Peter lowered his voicenot so low he couldnt be heard because right now secrets were the last thing they needed but low enough that an illusion of privacy could be created. Lee needs something to do. He needs to not sit around . . . Words were considered and discarded in the pause. . . . thinking. Besides, hes gone out on all your other excursions and youve both always come back. Right now, that seems like a good omen to me.

 Yeah, sure, but . . .

 Youll take the second lantern. Slightly better than normal volume now. Directors volume. Youll get your laptop. And youll come up with a way to get us all out of here.

 Even Tom and Brenda and Hartley? Something else he couldnt actually say.

 Maybe Peter read the thought off his face. All of us, he repeated. Get moving. Lee! Youre going with Tony.

 Propelled by Peters voice, by the normalcy of Peter telling him what to do, Lee stood.

 Tony surrendered. Even with the replays moving faster, theyd be back long before the ballroom started up again.

 You sure? he asked quietly as Lee came to his side.

 Peters right. I have to do something.

 Carry the lantern?

 Sure.

 They were at the door of the dining room before Tony resized they should have gone the other way. He stopped on the threshold, but Lee grabbed his arm and dragged him over.

 Its just a room with blood on the floor. Thats all." And if his grip was tight enough to stop the blood from moving in Tonys arm . . .

 Tony added that to the growing list of things he couldnt say.

 Shed be pissed about the blood.

 She. Brenda. A quick glance down at the dark not-quite-puddle. On the floor?

 No. On the shirt.

 Oh. Right.

 She was always at us not to get the clothes dirty because CB never gave wardrobe enough money for them to buy more than one set.

 Technically, she made the mess.

 The answering snicker sounded just on the edge of hysteria and Tony decided that maybe hed better skip the manly banter for now. As they moved into the butlers pantry, he suddenly remembered his backpack, stored in the AD office back just after dawn and forgotten. Ive got a shirt with me if you want to change.

 Into what?

 Out of. . . He waved at Brendas blood.

 Oh. Right. Thanks. Lees movements had none of their usually fluidity as he set the lantern on the granite counter-top. I wish that damned baby would shut the fuck up!

 Karl had pretty much become background noise, tuned out the way they all tuned out traffic and elevator music and provincial politics. But he was a convenient excuse.

 Reaching under the counter, Tony dragged out his pack and pulled out a black T-shirt. It may be a little tight, but its clean, he said as he straightened. And froze. Leed stripped off his shirt and was scrubbing at a fist-sized stain on his skin with the crumpled fabric. The lantern light painted the shadows in under muscles and gilded the upper curves. He kept his chest waxed for the showbody hair gave the networks palpitationsbut Tony had no difficulty filling in the patch of dark curls he knew should be there.

 He was having trouble breathing again.

 Bright side, he wasnt cold.

 I was going to a play after work with Henry, he said hurriedly, one arm stretched awkwardly out offering the change of clothes.

 Henry? Lee raised his head. Yourfriend ?

 Justmy friend now.

 Strange exchange. Weighted even.

 What the hell is happening here?

 He was still holding out the shirt. Lee was staring past it with a . . . Tony had no idea what to call the expression on the other mans face, but the green eyes locked onto his with an almost terrifying intensity.

 Then his back was up against the counter, the edge of the granite digging in just over his kidneys. Lees hands were holding his head almost too tightly, fingers wrapped around his skull like a heated vise, and Lees mouth was on his devouring and desperate, and Lees body was pressing against him, and there was a rather remarkable amount of smooth, heated skin under his hands and Jesus, people reacted to death in the weirdest damned ways! Tony knew that the worst possible thing he could do was respond, but he wasnt dead and hewas responding . . .

 And the lights came up.

 Chapter Eleven

 ?? ?

 TECHNICALLY, since he hadnt moved, he had to be still kissing Lee. Except that he was also up against the counter in the butlers pantry with his mouth working and his elbow braced in a plate of insubstantial cakes. He could feel . . .

 No, he couldnt.

 Damn!

 Leed probably jumped back. It didnt matter if it was an Oh-my-God-what-the-fuck-am-I-doing reaction or if hed realized Karl wasnt crying or hed sensed a different reaction when Tonyd turned his head to look at the cakesthe point was they were no longer in physical contact.

 He stayed where he was for a moment, catching his breaththe other reaction would just have to take care of itselfthen, in as steady a voice as he could manage: Im in a replay. Its happening in the . . . Bathroom, nursery stairs, conservatory, ballroom; he counted down the recent replays. . . . drawing room. From the hall it sounded like someone convulsing, but I didnt go in, so it might, um . . . He struggled to bring his brain back on-line, but talking made him think of his mouth, which made him think of Lees mouth, which made him think of what Leed just been doing with his mouth, which made him wonder why hed stopped and . . .Jesus H. Christ! At the risk of betraying the side, getting some is not the issue right now ! Look, its not very long, so Ill head for the kitchen while Ive got the light. You can wait here or you can follow.

 As he finished talking, he started moving; pleased with the way hed finally managed to sound almost as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Where nothing out of the ordinarydidnt include convulsions by the long dead in the drawing room, of course. If Lee wanted to deny swapping spit, then Tony would give him that chance.

 And if he doesnt?

 Twenty-four hours earlierno, twelveTonyd have given his right nut to have Lee Nicholas suddenly decide to change orientation. He even had a couple of scenarios all worked out wherehe was the reason. One of them involved kiwi-flavored lube and ended rather spectacularly in Raymond Darks satin-lined coffin back at the studio. Right at this moment, however, it was a complication he didnt need. Unrequited lust was a situation he was used to dealing withstart requiting and God only knew where things would end up.

 Actually, it was fairly obvious where things would end up. . . .

 For chrissakes, Tony, get your mind out of your freakin pants!

 The moment the replay ended, he was going to beat his head against the wall a time or two. Not only a fine physical distraction, but this talking to himself in the third person had to be stopped.

 Although a kettle steamed on the stovehad apparently been steaming while that killer tea was being served in the drawing roomthe kitchen was deserted and the back door closed. Apparently closed. And apparently closed doors hadnt stopped him before. All he had to do was . . .

 Problem.

 Cassie had said that Henry would leave the laptop on the bucket the butts had been in, but that would mean he had to get a horizontal laptop through a vertical opening barely five centimeters wider than the laptop was deep. Someone had to hold the laptop up on its side, facing the opening.

 Pity he hadnt thought of that while Cassie and Stephen were still around.

 Henry! Henry, can you hear me?

 If Graham could communicate with the ghosts of his cousins because of a blood tie, he should be able to communicate with Henry. Blood had tied them for years.

 Hen . . .

 Darkness.

 And Karl.

 . . . ry!

 No answer. Or not one he could hear anyway. After all, Henry was the metaphysical beingVampire, Nightwalker, Bloodsucking Undeadhe was just a production assistant helping to put together a second-rate show at a third-rate studio. Reaching out, he trailed his fingertips over the wall, touched the edge of the doorframe, and couldnt go any farther. He leaned his weight against the barrier and almost felt the power gathering to stop him. It felt substantial.

 And the vaunted wizard power of copping a feel off the thing in the basement was no friggin help at all. Fortunately, there was another way. An already proven way.

 Cassie! Stephen! I need you in the kitchen!

 Whats wrong?

 Not the ghosts. No mistaking that brushed velvet voice. Although the lantern light throwing Lees shadow against the door pretty much made identification a gimmie.

 The doors only open this much. Tony held his hands about five centimeters apart as he turned. Laptops this wide. His hands separated. Its got to be up on its side or I cant get it through the space.

 And why do you need the ghosts?

 They can talk to the caretaker.

 You cant talk to Henry?

 Cant seem to.

 The borrowed T-shirt was tight. Hed seen Lee in tight T-shirts before but never inhis tight T-shirt. It made an interesting difference where interesting referred to interest being taken independently by parts of Tonys anatomy. Dark strands of hair fell down in front of the actors face, free of the product Everett had used to slick it back. Tony had a vague sensory memory of gripping a handful of hair as an invading tongue probed for his tonsils.

 Lees gaze bounced around the room like his eyes had been replaced by a pair of green-and-white super ballsstove, window, door, wall, cabinet, sink, floor, ceilingalighting everywhere but on Tonys face. Look, about what happened; I uh . . . I mean it was . . . There was just . . . Brenda . . .

 And then he stopped.

 Man, actors suck at the articulate without writers behind them.

 And by the way, Brenda?Thanks for bringing her up. Nothing like being the substitute for a dead wardrobe assistant .

 Tony was half inclined to let Lee sweat. Fortunately, his better half wonbut only because the part of his brain connected to his dick thought that a sweaty Lee Nicholas was a good idea and he was trying to discourage it. You were freaked. I get it. Its cool. Rush to finish before Lee could protest. Or agree. Or say anything else at all. But if wehave to figure out what was going on . . . With luck, his tone made his preference clear. The last thing he wanted to do was sit down with Lee and discussfeelings. . . . can it wait until after we get out of this house?

 Maybe relief. And until then what? Denial?

 Hey, were guyswere all about denial.

 Definitely relief. And most of a smile.

 So Tony smiled back.

 I said; what do you want?

 Startled, he stepped back and brushed against Stephens arm. The sudden cold took care of any residual interest and snapped his attention back to the problem at hand. Sorry. I was . . . uh . . .

 Stephen rolled his eyes. Dont tell me. I dont want to know. His voice rose. Cassie, back off! We dont want it to know were moving around!

 It doesnt know? Tony asked as Cassie reluctantly lowered her hand and drifted around to check Lee out from the fear. Cassie was distracted, but Stephen sounded nervous. No, more than nervous. Afraid.

 It doesnt seem to. He patted the front sweep of his hair with the heel of one hand. As long as we do nothing to attract attention to ourselves, things should be okay. But its safest in the bathroom.

 Safest?

 Thats our place. Until Graham came, thats where we stayed. But it was asleep when we started being us again, and now it isnt. The other hand patted down the other side of his hair. And its more awake now than it was. So . . . He half shrugged, the motion not quite enough to dislodge his head. Its already keeping us herewe can leave the bathroom, but we cant leave the house. And, you know, we keep dying. We dont want to know what else it can do.

 Made sense. So, what attracts its attention?

 Arms folded, Stephen nodded toward his sister. Stuff that uses energy. Anything physical, like the paint, or making it so others can see us like we did this morning.

 Contacting your cousin?

 No. That doesnt pull any energy fromit , Cassie explained finally joining them at the door. It pulls it from Graham.

 From what Tony could remember of the caretaker, he didnt seem to have much energy to spare.

 



 

 Wiping sweat off his forehead, Graham sat back on his heels and sucked in long, slow lungfuls of humid air. This Tony kid, he said after a moment, he needs you to turn the laptop on its side or it wont fit through the door.

 Henry flipped the computer up on one edge. Like this?

 Yeah and line it up like the door was open this much. He held his thumb and forefinger apart, both of them shaking.

 Like this.

 Like that. Okay . . . Wrapping one hand around the porch rail, he hauled himself up onto his feet. Henry could hear his heart racing. I need a beer.

 When were done.

 Done what? Done this? Done the next thing? Guy could die of thirst around you, he muttered, then added quickly his heart beating faster still. Not that I want you to think about being thirsty.

 Youre right. You dont.

 Its just you might be a little more sympathetic because youre still not looking a hundred percent after having been knocked on your ass and . . .

 Shut up. Tony was just inside the door. Less than a body length away and he might as well have been on the other side of the world. So close, the song of his blood should have been an invitation. But Henry sensed nothing but the power keeping them apart.

 The power that had, as the caretaker so elegantly put it, knocked him on his ass.

 The computer case creaked in his grip. It took an effort to let go and a greater effort to stop the growl rising in his throat.

 When the laptop quivered, he loosened his hold further so that it barely rested against his fingers. It inched forward, stopped on the edge of the bucket, and then disappeared. Mortal eyes couldnt have seen it move, and Henry barely made out a silver blur disappearing through what seemed a solid door. His fingertips were warm and so was the galvanized metal.

 After a moment, Graham sagged against the rail and started to cough. Its like yelling across the friggin Strait of Juan de friggin Fuca, but I think hes got it.

 You think? Not quite a snarl.

 Okay, okay, hes got it.

 Good. Rising, Henry dusted off his knees and then moved down off the flagstone slab, moved in such a way it would be obvious to anyone watching that the power wrapped around the house gave him no trouble at all. Didnt make him want to tear through it and yank Tony free. Didnt remind him of pain.

 So. Arms folded, feet planted shoulder-width apart in the damp gravel, CB scowled at the door. We have done all we can.

 You know, Graham snorted, pivoting shakily toward the driveway, when you make pronouncements like that, theres bugger all anyone else can say.

 Good.

 



 

 I cant find anything about talking to the dead.

 How about conversing with ghosts? When Tony glanced up, Amy shrugged. Hey, its all about what you punch into the search engine. Also, try necromancy.

 He frowned. How do you spell that?

 He wasnt surprised she knew. Sitting cross-legged, the laptop on the floor in front of him, Amy on the other side of the laptop, he typed in the word.

 No results.

 Nothing for connecting with the dead.

 Nor connecting with the spirit realm.

 I dont think theres anything in here.

 Try spirits all by itself. Broaden your search parameters, she added impatiently, reaching for the computer. Give it to me, Ill do it.

 Dont . . .

 Too late. She jerked it out from under his hands and spun it around. Tony! Youre playing spider solitaire!

 Its a glamour! he snapped spinning it back. It makes you believe . . .

 I know what a glamour is, she told him, emphasis adding volume. I have a complete set ofCharmed on DVD!

 The silence that followed accompanied raised brows and general expressions of disbelief.

 Amy flashed a sneer around the circle. Hello. Vampire detective? Its not like we can claim the creative high ground here!

 Tony glanced up in time to see Mason open his mouth, but before any sound emerged, the lights came up and all he could hear was Stephen and Cassie dying while the band in the ballroom played a waltz.

 That was Night and Day, Peter told him when the house returned to lamplight and Karl. Cole Porter wrote it for Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers inThe Gay Divorcee . We all heard it this time. Well, all of us except Amy, Zev, and Ashley. Why not those three?

 Theyre not Fred and Ginger fans?

 Hey, Freds brilliant during that number. Night And Day is one of his choreographic peaks.

 Not the point, Zev. Arms folded, Peter glared down at Tony. Try again. Why not those three?

 How would I know? Tony was afraid the question sounded more than a little defensive. Still, a little defensive was better than the can of worms hed open with Because they were never shadow-held.

 Youd know because you know lots of things, dont you, Tony. Kate shoved Pavin away from her with enough force that he slammed into Sorge and the two of them nearly went over. Lots of things you never thought to tell us before people started dying.

 I couldnt have stopped it. Any of it.

 Her lip curled. But youre a wizard. Bent fingers tapped out patterns in the air. Oooo!

 At leasthes more than a pain in the ass, Amy spat as she stood.

 Put another record on, Mason drawled, shaking free of Ashleys grip. Bitch, bitch, bitch, yap, yap, yap. Who the hell cares what he knows as long as he gets us the hell out of here before I end up spending eternity doing an undead rumba!

 I havent heard a . . . Tony began, but Mason cut him off.

 It doesnt have to be a fucking rumba. Just type, okay?

 Brianna poked Zev. Whats a record?

 Its like a great big CD.

 She snorted. No one cool uses CDs anymore.

 Theyre like from another time, Ashley agreed with a disappointed look up through her lashes at Mason.

 Tony let the argument about music downloads wash over himon one level grateful the others were distracted. The less time they spent chewing at their situation the better, especially since they seemed to invariably end up chewing on him. Meanwhile, Ashley had given him an idea.

 Time.

 The replays were like pieces of time trapped by the malevolence. Mosquitoes in amber ifJurassic Park could be trusted. He had a certain amount of confidence about the science in one, very little in two, and none at all in threeeven with the return of Sam Neil.

 Time had its own folder on the laptop.

 Time, Determining.

 Look at watch, he snorted and scrolled down.

 Time, Keeping Track of Passage.

 If I tossed a couple of dozen Timexes through the gate, I could make a fortune.

 Time, Finding More.

 Time, Traveling Through.

 That might do it. If hed had a little more time, he could have learned more spells and been better prepared.Ah, who am I kidding; if Id had more time, Id have gone clubbing . He double-clicked and found himself staring at a single word on the screen.

 Dont.

 Oh, ha ha. Back a screen.

 Time, in a Bottle.

 Not going there.

 Time, Speaking Through.

 Possibly.

 There were two subfolders. Speaking with the past. Speaking with the future.

 He double clicked the first option.

 Warning: Speaking with the past can cause paradoxes and time splits. Changes made will never be for the better. Do not attempt to send a message to yourself to get yourself out of your current situation.

 So much for that idea.

 



 

 Okay, I found something under Elementals. Apparently, theyre kind of spirits that are always around and theres a way to contact them. He felt like a total idiot talking about this, but theyd all insisted on knowing what he was about to do.

 Secrets get people killed, Kate had snarled.

 Even Zev had nodded.

 So I have to go to the back stairs where Lucy Lewis is in order to cast the spell. There, hed said it:spell . Could he sound any geekier? Because I got her name from Cassie and Stephen, it should be easy enough to manage. Where easy was a distinctly relative term. Easier than trying it without her name, one hell of a lot harder than snatching illicit snack food from Mason. At first I thought I was going to have to work with a banishing demons spell, but . . . Oh, crap. Did he say that out loud? Apparently, yes. What?

 There is a spell to banish demons on that thing? Sorge asked, nodding toward the laptop.

 Yeah.

 Then why havent you banished it?

 Banish Lucys ghost?

 The DP rolled his eyes, hands curling into fists as he visibly searched for the English words. Banish the thing in the basement!

 Oh. Good question. He only wished his answer didnt sound so much like he was scared shitless. Which he was but the actual reason was equally valid. Because I dont know that the thing in the basement is a demon, and if I go down there and I try to banish it and the spell doesnt work, then it knows were on to it and weve blown our one shot. I need more information before I face the big bad. I need to know whats in Caulfields journal.

 Ghosts arent elementals, Peter informed him.

 Obvious much? I know, but. . .

 Youre using a spell for an elemental on a ghost.

 Yeah, but I know her name, so if I slot that into the spell, it should take me to her, and if it doesnt work, theres nothing Lucy can do to me. Shes just a captured image. Totally ignoring any indication Stephen or Cassie had given to the contrary because, well, why the hell not. If I try something in the basement and it doesnt work, Ive just poked the big bad with a stick.

 So? Peter spread his hands like hed be the one throwing magical energies around. Worth trying. Were already up shit creek.

 And, hey, heads were nodding again.

 They just werent getting it.

 All right. . . Tony reached for an explanation from their world. . . . lets say the thing in the basement is CB in his office. His power extends through the soundstage and out onto location; hes sitting there quietly running our lives. Now, suppose someone who knows nothing about him goes into his office and pokes him with a big fucking stick! What happens to that person?

 Is this a real stick or a metaphorical stick? Adam asked before anyone could answer Tonys question.

 Pick one.

 I was just wondering because if it was a real stick, itd likely end up shoved where the sun dont shine, and if it was a metaphorical stick . . . What? Adam glared around the circle. Okay, if it was a metaphorical stick, itd have the same result, only metaphorically.

 I think he just likes saying the word, Tina sighed.

 So, Peter broke into the murmured round of agreement, if you try this banishing thing on the thing in the basement and it doesnt work because you dont have the particulars, you could end up dead.

 Yes.

 For crying out loud, Tony, why didnt you just say so?

 He shrugged. I didnt want to give Kate any ideas. It sounded stupid saying it out loud and he braced himself for Kates reaction.

 To his surprise, she merely scowled and stomped across the circle to sit on the floor by Mouse, snarling, I hate ballroom dancing.

 Under the circumstances, he couldnt blame her. Because Ive got to put myself on an elemental plane to do this.

 Put yourself on a jet plane. Just stop talking about it and do it, Mason muttered.

 . . .I need someone with me to anchor me and pull me back if I cant get back on my own.

 Yank physically or metaphorically?

 Adam!

 Both. He didnt look at Lee, but the rest of them did.

 No. Lee shook his head, dark line of hair arcing across his face. Not this time. I just. . . I mean . . . Arms folded across the borrowed T-shirt, he stared down at the polished toes of his shoes. Between the baby and the music, I cant. . . That is, I might . . . The sound he made was far too dark to be called laughter. I dont fucking know what Im likely to do.

 And he, in turn, was so very definitivelynot looking at Tony that every head swiveled around like they were forcing a tennis match between two players who refused to step onto the court.

 What happened in the kitchen? Peter asked suspiciously.

 Nothing!

 Pavin rolled his eyes. Tony probably put some kind of faggot whammy on him.

 Zev handed Brianna over to Tina and stood. Watch who youre calling a faggot.

 Trust you guys to stick together! The sound tech rolled his eyes. You know why faggots stick together? Not using enough lube.

 It could have gone either way.

 Tony could feel the darkness outside the circle of lamplight waiting. Waiting for anger. Waiting for pain.

 Then Zev laughed. He glanced over at Tony, who had a sudden x-rated memory of a Sunday afternoon, a distinct lack of planning, and the less than adequate contents of his refrigerator.

 It was fairly obvious what they were laughing about, at least in a general sense. First Amy, then Adam, then one after another the others joined in. Lee laughed last and when Tony caught a glimpse of his face, the word that came immediately to mind was, Actor.

 The laughter edged toward hysteria but never quite crossed the line.

 God, no wonder you two broke up, Amy gasped at last. Youre too warped to sustain a relationship.

 I dont get it, Brianna complained.

 And that set everyone off again.

 At least Tony thought it did. Right about then, the lights came up.

 The music from the ballroom didnt seem as loud, but that might have been wishful thinking. Entirely too clichd for laughter to be the solution.

 When he got back, Peter had come to a decision.

 Amys going with you this time. The girls dont want Zev to leave . . .

 Whole conversations Tony was just as glad he wasnt around for inthat statement.

 . . . and theres no one else . . .

 Hey!

 . . . except for Ashley, who has any kind of resistance to this place. We dont want to lose you. One corner of Peters mouth curled up as Kate growled the expected denial into the deliberate pause, then he continued, Once you find out how we can fight the thing in the basement, get back here as quickly as you can. Were all getting just a little tired of this.

 And bored! Brianna added, rocking from side to side, arms rolled up in her pinafore. Bored. Bored. Bored. The walls dont even bleed.

 Hey, Mason glared down at her. How about you dont give this place any ideas.

 Hey, Zev repeated, glaring up at the actor. How about you dont giveher the idea that she can give this place ideas!

 Amy took hold of Tonys arm with one hand and waggled the second lantern with the other. Hey, how about we get out of here.

 Sounds good.

 Theyd gone about five meters when Adam yelled, Follow the yellow brick road! Ow! What? Theyre off to see the wizard.

 Theyre off with the wizard, you moron.

 Dont turn around, Amy sighed as the girls began singing Ding Dong the Witch is Dead. Youll only encourage them. Zevs got a good voice, though, she added thoughtfully a moment later when Zev joined the song.

 Yeah,that I knew .

 What?

 Never mind. The emphasis had tied the comment to a previous conversation with Lee. Hed expected Lee to be at his side. Sure, theyd been thrown together in more than an actor/production assistant kind of way by a homicidal piece of architecture, but theyd been connecting. Amy was a friend, but hed still rather have had Lee. . . .

 Oh, crap.

 Maybe all that wanting did put some kind of a fag whammy on him.

 Wizards affect the energies around them. That was what Arra always said. Well, shed said it once anyway. He was a wizardsince he was heading off to do wizardry, it seemed a little pointless to deny itbut he was untrained. Maybe he was affecting the energies around Lee without even realizing it. Warping reality to fit his own desires.

 Youre thinking about Lee, arent you?

 You can tell?

 Duh. Youre wearing your patented thinking about Lee expression. One part panic, two parts horny. Its totally obvious.

 Great.

 



 

 I dont want to leave the bathroom.

 What? Cassie stared at her brother in disbelief. One of the first things you said when Graham called us back to ourselves was that you hated this place.

 That was then, Cass. That was before it was awake. I dont want it to notice us.

 It cant. . .

 It might. He took her hands and led her over to the tub, pushing her gently until she sat down on the edge. Then he dropped to his knees and laid his head on her lap. I know were dead, but were not like the restwere not just mindlessly haunting the place we died. Were aware. Of things. Of each other. If it found out, it could take that away. I dont Want to risk that. I dont want to stop being.

 Oh, Stephen. She stroked his hair, could almost feel the silky strands under her fingers, could almost feel the heat of his cheek through the thin fabric of her skirt, could almost feel the desire that had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Almost. She thought of telling him that they werent reallybeing , but since she couldnt have told him what they were, she didnt bother.

 Dead, yes. But also together. She didnt want to lose that either.

 Theyd done everything they could for Tony and his friends. Maybe it wouldnt hurt to stay in the bathroom for a while.

 It was their turn to be murdered again anyway.

 



 

 All right. . . As the lights dimmed, and Karl started crying, Tony shook the sound of the ax impacting out of his head. I have to get this done before we cycle around to her replay.

 Whose replay?

 Lucy Lewis. The servant. The one who might know about the journal, he expanded when Amy continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly.

 She leaned a little closer. You know, its totally weird when you do that.

 Okay, not uncomprehending, lost in her own headspace. Do what?

 Walk in the ghost world. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she leaned away again. I mean, youre here, but youre so not. Its freaky. And not in a good way. It was like following a sleepwalker to the kitchen.

 They were standing at the bottom of the back stairs.

 Sorry.

 Why? Its not like youre doing it on purpose. Artificially ebony brows dipped in. Youre not doing it on purpose, right?

 He opened his mouth.

 Good, I didnt think so, but you know. So why do you have to get this done before we hit Lucys replay? And why her? Why not the dude she pushed down the stairs?

 Since Lucy did the pushing, she was probably more corrupted by the thing in the basement.

 Amy glanced over her shoulder toward the basement door.

 Come on. Shes on the second floor. Be careful on the stairs.

 Can you do a wizard light? Amy asked as they began to climb.

 Its called a Wizards Lamp. And no.

 Her snort held several layers of derision. Why the hell not?

 Okay, Arra said that the energy to control. . . things . . .

 Things? Is that a technical wizard-type term?

 Bite me. The energy comes from the wizard. Why would I suck power out of myself to do something a flashlight or a lantern could do just as well?

 Batteries are dead in the flashlight and what if the lamp blew out? She waved it just enough to make the shadows dance. You just suck at being prepared, dont you?

 Yes. No. And second-guessing would get him nowhere. I should have anticipated this?

 Hey, youre the wizard. Youre the one on speaking terms with the great unknown. Besides, a Wizards Lamp would be enormously . . .

 Wasted. The lights came upalthough they werent as bright on the back stairs as they were in more public areas of the house.I guess theres no point in wasting power on the servants .

 Amy, this is old lady chops up the gardener time. It takes her a while, so well just climb to the second floor and wait. He slowed down; hoping Amy would keep pace with him and not go charging on ahead. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could hear the damp thunk crunch of the ax going through bone in time to the music from the ballroom.

 Dah dah dah da-dah, da-dah, thunk crunch.

 And then again, since hed never imagined dismemberment in waltz time before, who knew?

 The second floor landing consisted of a wall of linen cupboards and an even steeper set of stairs leading up to the third floor and the servants rooms. The narrow window was as dark and unreflective as every other window in the house and the hanging bulb with the iron shade threw shadows very similar to the lantern.

 Dah dah dah da-dah, da-dah, thunk crunch.

 No, he wasnt imagining it.

 You know, Amy, I just had a thought. He gave her enough time to make a derogatory comment before continuing. Its possible that the extra who went all hysterical this morning did feel fingers. Im pretty sure I remember the old lady burying the gardeners right arm in that spot. Yeah, I know its not still physically therebut maybe it was kind of a ghost grope. So its also possible no one actually rabbited the claw. The gardener just reclaimed it.

 Just.

 As applied to not only dead but dismembered gardeners.

 When did he start living such a weird, freakin life? Oh, right, when Vicki I know best Nelson pulled him in off the street to donate blood to a wounded vampire.

 He wasnt sure whether or not he should be deeply disturbed that CB had called Henry for help. Bright side, Henry wasnt alone at the theater plotting revenge for being stood upand hed delivered the laptopand if they happened to finally need a member of the aristocratic bloodsucking undead to storm the barricades from the outside, they had one on hand. Not-so-bright-side . . . well, it was hard to nail down anything resembling a decent reason, but Tony wasnt entirely happy with the thought of CB and Henry doing that buddy thing.

 Tony?

 The light levels hadnt changed significantly. Amys sudden appearance right in his face was one of the more startling things hed seen tonight.

 Why the frowny face? she asked, clearly pleased with his reaction. You worried someone hoofed it out of here with the gardeners actual hand?

 No, he told her, opening a narrow drawer and balancing the laptop across it, while trying to reclaim a little dignity. If they had, wed be playing ghost rampages across city for missing body part instead of the standard haunted house tries to eat the souls of trapped and eccentric group. 

 Ghosts dont rampage.

 This one would.

 And if this plot is so standard, shouldnt we be doing a better job of getting the hell out?

 Maybe were not eccentric enough.

 Please, youre eccentric enough all on your own.

 Me?

 Hey there, Mr. Wizard, youre the one with the magic lessons on a laptop that seems to show nothing but spider solitaire . . . Reaching out, she tried, unsuccessfully, to move the cursor. And eww . . . Why is your touch pad so sticky? Never mind. A raised hand cut him off cold. I dont want to know. Just tell me how to haul your ass back out of the spell and . . . Whats that noise?

 The err err creak? He glanced away from the screen just long enough to catch her nod. When I heard it this afternoon, I thought it was the door to the stairs moving back and forth.

 The door isnt moving, Tony.

 I know.

 Is it . . . Her voice dropped dramatically. . . . one of the ghosts? And I can hear it? Why can I hear it? I mean, its great, but why?

 Maybe the house has finally worn down your natural cynicism.

 As if.

 Contradictions wrapped in attitude, that was Amy. Okay, maybe proximity. Take your boots off.

 Amy set the lantern on the floor and took a handful of black parachute cloth in both hands, lifting the wide legs of her cargo pants to expose gleaming black ankle boots laced in glittering pink. Off?

 Off. According to this, I have to write runes on your bare feet to anchor you.

 Cool. She sat on the bottom step and began undoing the laces.

 Its July. Dont your feet get hot in there?

 No. Besides, do I look like the little strappy sandal type?

 She really didnt. Her socks matched the laces. Her toenails matched her fingernailsmagenta and black.

 Thats a lot of work for something no ones ever going to see, he mentioned, dropping to one knee and taking her left foot in his hand. Her toes curled in anticipation as he pulled the top off the magic marker with his teeth.

 No ones asking you to do it, she told him. Squinted. Tony, is that supposed to be an anchor?

 He leaned back and studied the black lines on her pale skin. Whats wrong with it?

 Im the anchor, so I have anchors? Thats not magic.

 Its symbolism. He bent over her other foot.

 Big word. Do you have any idea of what youre doing?

 Honestly?

 She leaned back on her elbows and tipped her head up toward theerr err sound. Dark brows dipped in, and Tony could see her remembering Tom and Brenda and Hartley. After a long moment she sighed and met his eyes. No. Lie to me.

 He squeezed her foot gently before he released it. I have complete confidence in my metaphysical ability to pull this off.

 Liar.

 Ow! Blinking away the pain, he stood. Why the hitting?

 You lied to me.

 You told me to! Tony was amazed to discover that when Amy stood up, she was considerably shorter than he was. And he wasnt exactly tall. A quick glance over at her boots explained the discrepancy. How the hell do you walk in those?

 None of your damned business. Now lets do this before you go ghost walking again.

 The hand rubbing gave her away. Right over left, left over rightshe looked like a gothpunk Lady Macbeth. Since she didnt have anything to feel guilty about, it had to be fear. Since he didnt have anything to say she might find even remotely comforting, he kept his mouth shut and pulled off his T-shirt.

 Its a cheat note, he told her as he copied the symbol on the computer screen onto his chest. Because Ive never done this before.

 The line under your right nipple needs to curve up more. She stepped toward him, bare feet slapping against the linoleum. Let me.

 No, I have to do it. Good thing he didnt have much chest hair. Better?

 Yeah. Half a step back. You ever think of getting your nipple pierced? You could go shirtless and wear a chain between it and your eyebrow.

 It was a good thing hed already moved the marker away from his skin. Not exactly my style.

 You donthave a style.

 He was about to disagree when he noticed Karl had stopped crying. Amy, the ballrooms about to start. Well just sit down . . . He dragged her down beside him onto the step. . . . and not go anywhere . . . The fingers of his left hand linked with her right. . . . and well be . . .

 Crap.

 Eyes open, sight fought with sensation so he kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the feel of Amys hand. Or more specifically on the pain of Amys grip.

 In spite of the greater distance from the ballroom, the dance music maintained the same volume it had in the front hall. Something humming along was new. It wasnt Amy. And it wasnt him. Certain Amy had no intention of releasing him, he risked a glance up the stairs. Nothing.

 Probably Lucy.

 Which meant the captured dead were beginning to overlap.

 Which meant . . . actually, he didnt have a freakin clue what that meant. Probably nothing good.

 He swore as a sudden drop in temperature racheted Amys grip tighter, the pain snapping his eyes open. In ballroom time, he was alone on the landing. Whatever it is, breaking my fingers will not help!

 Amy apparently disagreed.

 The music paused. Downstairs, the dead died again. The music restarted.

 Its almost over. Ill be back in a minute.

 It felt like about five minutes.Yeah, and if you think time is subjective trapped in a car with a vampire who likes boomer music, try being trapped in a haunted house without a working watch .

 Watching for him to focus, Amy started talking pretty much the instant he could see her. Tony, it was so cool! She was hanging right above us!

 Who?

 Well, Im guessing it was Lucy Lewis. . . okay, her spirit not actually her because of the whole translucent thingbut damn! I felt like Hayley Joel Osmond!

 Osment.

 Whatever. Point is, I saw a ghost!

 Trust meafter a while, less thrilling. He worked the feeling back into his fingers as he dropped off the step, back onto one knee, and pulled the top off the marker. Lets do this.

 I wish I could talk to her.

 Well, you cant.

 Hang on. You just drew a circle on the floor in Magic Marker.

 Not much gets by you, does it.

 CB is going to have your ass.

 If he can get it out of this house, hes welcome to it. As Amy made a series of totally grossed-out faces, he capped the marker and stood. I need you to count slowly to a hundred and sixty, thats three minutes.

 Thanks for the math lesson, Einstein. A hundred and eighty is three minutes.

 Fine, count to a hundred and eighty. When you get there, grab the back of my jeansdont touch skinand haul me out of the circle.

 Me, Im not the wizard, but that sounds a little dangerous.

 It is. A little. Arras notes werent specific on just how much. But just to me, youll be fine. Its the emergency exit procedure.

 Great. Ill be fine. Whats the nonemergency exit procedure?

 Thatd be the second half of the spell.

 Then why not . . .

 Because the laptop wont be coming with me, and I dont have time to memorize it.

 Tony . . .

 Three people are dead, Amy.

 Yeah. She sighed and cuffed him on the back of the head. Go on.

 He stepped into the circle, bent, and set the laptop on the third step where he could see the screen. The first part of the spell was a string of seventeen polysyllabic words spaced to indicate the rhythm with room left to add the elementals name if known. Arra had helpfully added a phonetic translation. The second part was also a string of seventeen polysyllabic wordsnot the same seventeen, not that it mattered since he was unlikely to remember the first seventeen. It was, essentially, hopefully, a more complex version of the Come to Me spell aiming for a totally different result. Trying not to think of exploding beer bottles, Tony began to read.

 When he inserted Lucy Lewis between the dozen or so clashing consonants that made up most of the words, his lips twitched. It sounded like Jabba the Huts dialogue.

 Garble, garble, garble, Han Solo. Garble.

 Concentrate, dipshit!

 Lesson one: The spell guides the wizard. It is the wizard who manipulates the energies. With time and practice, the wizard will find such guides unnecessary.

 Someday, hed have to go back and read lesson two.

 Garble. Garble. Garble.

 Jesus, its cold . . .

 All except for the pattern drawn on his chest.That was almost uncomfortably warm.

 Contact.

 Shed have been cute when she was alive. Not very tall, brown hair, hazel eyes behind small round glasseshe thought there might have been a scattering of freckles but with all the swelling and discoloration, it was hard to tell. The err err sound was the creaking of the rope Lucy had hanged herself with.

 Had PBS ever done a series on hanging? He didnt think so, but he knew hed seen something about the way most suicides changed their minds when the rope started to tighten, that no matter how determined they started out, faced with slow strangulation they clawed trenches into their own skin trying to get free. Lucy hadnt.

 Worst part, there was someone home behind the eyes.

 Trapped.

 Can you hear me?

 Yes. Barely a word. The rope had destroyed her voice.

 Great. If he wanted any hope of understanding her, hed have to keep this to one-word answers. My friends and I are trapped in the house and we need your help to get out. Did you read Creighton Caulfields journal?

 Some.

 Does it contain information about the thing in the basement?

 She shuddered violently enough to start her swinging. Yes.

 What makes the dead shudder?

 Can we use the information to defeat it?

 Dont.

 Because you dont think itll work?

 The laughing was worse than the shuddering.

 This was taking too long and he didnt know what questions to ask. No way he could get the information one word at a time. Do you know where the journal is?

 Now.

 Of course nownowait, her now was a hundred years ago. No way the journal would still be there. Except during her replay, he was there, too. In the same time as the journal. His chest burned, his head started to ache, and he had a sudden insight about that Dont.

 Okay, now.

 Even given distortions, the look she shot him quite clearly said,I may be dead, but youre an idiot . Hidden.

 Caulfield hides it? Where?

 Dont.

 Very helpful. Appreciate the warning but we dont have a choice. Where does . . . did Caulfield hide the journal?

 Li . . .

 Something grabbed his jeans.

 . . . bra . . .

 Pain blocked out the last syllable. When it faded enough for him to speak, he was propped up against the wall of shelves with the taste of copper in his mouth and a splitting headache. Ow.

 Ow my ass. Boots back on, Amy squatted in front of him. You had convulsions.

 Didnt plan to.

 You bit through your lip.

 Talking hurt. I know.

 You scared me half to death.

 She flicked him just above the naval. His skin felt tight, sunburned. Ow.

 Suck it up. Did you find out what you needed to know?

 I think so.

 If your head wasnt so damned hard, youd have a cracked skull, so be sure.

 Im sure.

 Lets hear an amen from the choir! She reached out to help him up. Come on, get dressed and well tell the others.

 



 

 The others had moved into the butlers pantry. Amy flatly denied panicking when they returned to the hall and found a scattering of salt and two disks of warm candle wax.

 We needed a better way to keep people from wandering during when Fred and Ginger take center stage, Peter told them, beckoning them through the dining room. This room is small, we can block both doors, and no ones died in it.

 What about Everett? Tony asked as everyone shuffled closer together to make space for two more. With fifteen people crammed into the butlers pantry, small was an understatement.

 I convinced Tina that Everett wasnt going anywhere.

 What about the circle of salt? Amy demanded.

 Keeping evil spirits out is going to have to take a back seat to keeping actors in, Peter snorted. I can work with the possessed, the dead are a little beyond my skill. What the hell happened to Tony?

 Amy rolled her eyes. He didnt stick the dismount.

 I dont really care what that means. Turning back to Tony, Peter folded his arms. What did you find out?

 Well, she wasnt a big talker . . . Head to one side, he lifted an imaginary rope.

 The dead can dance, but they cant talk?

 Im not making up the rules. Im not even sure there are rules. Back when Lucy killed herself, the journal was hidden in the library. Ill have to find it and read it during her replays.

 Crammed in between Kate and Saleen, Mouse began to shake, eyes wide and cheeks pale. You cant go into the library, he moaned, twisting both hands in his T-shirt. The library is haunted!

 Her head pillowed on Zevs backpack, Brianna managed to combine a yawn with an expression of complete disdain. The whole house is haunted, you big baby!

 Chapter Twelve

 ?? ?

 ALL RIGHT, thats it for me, RCMP Constable Danvers rolled her chair away from the desk and stretched. Bad guys caught, paperwork filed electronically and redundantly, government satisfiedIm heading home for a shower and four blissful hours of shut-eye before I have to get up and get my darling children off to day camp. She balled up a scrap of paper and tossed it at her partner. Jack! Hello, Earth to Jack! You planning on staying here all night?

 Im just checking into something that Tony kid said.

 What, this afternoon out at the house? When Jack grunted an affirmative, she ran over everything she could remember of the conversation. He asked about that murder/suicide from the fifties.

 Uh-huh.

 So you looked it up?

 I looked it up.

 You dont have enough to do?

 He got me curious.

 Uh-huh. Like all good cops, Jack could get a little obsessive and over the last few months shed gotten used to drop. Ping in on CB Productionsstudio or location shootswhen the mood took him. She had no idea what he thought he was doing, but she trusted his instincts and Lee Nicholas was easy enough on the eyes she didnt begrudge Jack the time.

 It went down pretty much the way Tony told it. Father went crazy, axed his two kids and then himself.

 And . . . ? Theyd been working together long enough that she knew when the story wasnt over.

 And then he asked if wed heard about anything more recent.

 And you gave him grief about ghosts. So? Jack looked up from his computer and Geetha stifled a sigh. He was wearing his bulldog expression, the one he wore when he was hard on the heels of a hot tip. The one that said RCMP Constable Jack Elson always got his man.If he doesnt make detective in the fall, Im asking for a transfer to Nunavut . I know Im probably going to regret this, but what did you find?

 November 17, 1969, Gerald Kranby bought the house.

 Kranby of Kranby Groceries? The largest independent chain west of Winnipeg? Best in the west? Fresh or frozen, Kranby keeps costs do . . . His new expression cut short her commercial moment. Sorry. Its late, Im a little punchy. That Kranby?

 Yeah, that Kranby. In the early 70s, his ten-month-old son, Karl, was killed.

 Murdered?

 Set onto a roaring fire like a Yule log.

 A Yule log being something you Christian folk burn at Christmas?

 That would be it.

 Hey, Im all about context. She stacked her fists on her desk and rested her chin on top. Did they nail the perp? When he winced, she grinned. Just trying to sound hip, dude.

 Dont. And they didnt have to look far. His mother was lying beside the fire with burned hands and knitting needle in her eyes.

 Knitting needles? Plural? She put her baby on the fire and killed herself with knitting needles? The shudder was only half faked. Thats very twisted.

 Or she tried to get the baby off the fire and was killed by whoever had put it on.

 Thats a theory. One her partner clearly didnt believe. Official line?

 Murder/suicide. The nanny found the bodies when she came back from the kitchen with snacks. The cook and gardener were both in the kitchen at the time. Kranby had a rock-solid alibi and no one had a motive.

 Please, Kranby was a successful businessman. They always have enemies.

 And thats what Kranby said. But heres the odd bit . . .

 Odder than Yule logs and knitting kneedles?

 . . . Kranby said that someone was piping ballroom dance music into his house.

 So he suspected Baz Lurman.Strictly Ballroom . . . its a movie, she continued when Jack stared at her blankly. You have got to start watching something besides crappy science fiction. Let me guess; the dance music drove his wife mad.

 Thats what he said. In her statement, the nanny agreed that Mrs. Kranby had been getting increasingly nervous of late and had mentioned that she was afraid of the man with the ax.

 The man with the ax?

 Chris Mills killed his teenage children with an ax.

 Geetha blinked and sat up. And Chris Mills would be the father who went crazy?

 Jack nodded.

 That happened a little over a decade before Kranby bought the house. She knew what he was implying. And she was staying as far away from it as she could.

 Thats not all.

 Oh, joy.

 I went down to records and I pulled everything we had on the house. March 8, 1942, Captain Charles Bannet killed his wife Audrey and then took a dive over the second-floor railing onto his head.

 Well, thats . . .

 Not all. Jack ran one hand back over his scalp, brushing his hair up into pale yellow spikes, and fanned the papers on his desk with the other. Constable Luitan, the officer who wrote up the report about the Bannets, did some research of his own. January 12, 1922, Mrs. Patricia Haltz, a wealthy timber widow, hacked her gardener into pieces and then swallowed a fatal amount of rat poison. February 15, 1937, thirty-nine peoplehosts, guests, and banddied at a Valentines Ball. Official verdict was a gas leak, but Luitans notes mention that two of the entrances were barred from the outside and the third was locked. The host had the key in his pocket.

 Habit replayed the scene. That ballrooms got glass all down one wall. Okay, its February so the windows are closed, but youd think someone would have tried tossing a music stand or something.

 Yeah. Youd think. Then he waited.

 Cops learned two things early on. The first was that, occasionally, coincidences were just that. No more and no less than the laws of probability winning out. A suspect with both motive and opportunity wasnt automatically guilty. The second was that while a suspect with both motive and opportunity wasntautomatically guilty, the odds were good. Coincidence be damned.

 Youre seeing a link between what happened to the Kranbys and the earlier deaths, arent you?

 Man with an ax. Ballroom music. Weird piling on weird.

 You need some sleep.

 The corners of his mouth twisted up into a fair approximation of a smile. Not arguing. Theres people who say that Caulfield House is haunted.

 Theres people who say the moon landings never happened. She shoved her chair out and stood. Theres people who swear to all kinds of strange shit. Some of them are even straight at the time. Come on, lets get out of here.

 I . . . Jack stared at his monitor a moment then he shrugged and shut down. Yeah, youre right.

 I often am. Waving good night to the team processing a very stoned hooker, Geetha herded her partner out of the squad room. Mind you, Im not arguing that its weird, all those deaths in the one house.

 That wasnt all of them. In the twenties, Creighton Caulfields aunt, who inherited the house, died, along with a visitor, after drinking cyanide-laced tea. A pause to sign out with the desk sergeant, then Jack continued as they headed out the door and across Deer Lake Avenue to the lot for personal vehicles. In 1906, one of Caulfields maids, a Lucy Lewis, shoved a male servant down the stairs and then hung herself.

 Hanged.

 What?

 I think that when people do it to each other or themselves, its hanged.

 Okay, hanged herself.

 She grinned, hearing his eyes roll in the tone of his voice. Thats a lot of dead people. Why isnt this better known?

 Standing by his truck, Jack rubbed a thumb and forefinger together. Money talks. Money also tells you to shut the fuck up.

 Yeah, I guess. Geetha unlocked her drivers doorprobably the only car on the lot without an electronic keyand paused, one foot up on the running board. What happened in the teens?

 Jack leaned out and stared at her over the top of the drivers side door, hair and skin the same pale gold under the security light. When?

 The nineteen-teens. Death every decade up to the seventies except for in the teens.

 Right. Well, according to Constable Luitans notes, in 1917, a year after his only son diedof natural causes, he added quickly before Geetha could ask, Creighton Caulfield disappeared.

 Disappeared?

 Jack nodded.

 She snorted. Well, thats clichd. When he clearly had no idea of why, she rolled her eyes. For a haunted house.

 Who said the house was haunted?

 You . . . Her brows dipped as she ran over the conversation. Okay. Fine. Get some sleep, Jack.

 And you.

 But she sat in her car for a moment, watched him drive away, and remembered the expression on Tony Fosters face when Jack had jokingly asked if he thought the house was haunted.

 Knew that Jack remembered that expression too.

 



 

 Tony hadnt liked the library when hed gone into it earlier and he liked it less now. There were shadows lingering in corners and on empty shelves that had nothing to do with the light thrown by his open laptop sitting on the hearth. After last springs adventure, lingering shadows were not on his list of favorite things. These werent the same kind of shadows. And that didnt help. Hell, if even Mouse could sense bad shit in the library, where did that leave him?

 Sweat ran down his sides and the pattern burned into his chest itched under the onslaught of damp salt.

 I am Oz, the great and powerful!

 The library seemed unimpressed.

 Right. And dont look at the man behind the curtain. He had no idea of just what exactly he was doing, but at least, this time, he was only risking himself.

 Look, Peter, the replays are happening so close together now that anyone who goes with meAmy or . . . you know. . .

 To give Peter credit, he didnt pretend not to know.

 . . .is going to be on their own. I mean, Ill be there, but I wont. . .

 A raised hand had cut him off. I get it.

 If the thing in the basement figures out Im looking for Caulfields journal, it could try to stop me.

 How?

 No idea, but if its got half a brain, itll go after the . . ? the um. . .

 The nonwizard. Peter nodded. Very likely.

 So I think I should do this by myself.

 I agree.

 Come on, Peter, you cant. . . Tony went back over the conversation. Wait; no argument?

 No. And Tina wants you to check on Everett while youre out there.

 The lights came upmidafternoon by the lines of sunlight not pouring through the matte-black window glassand Tony could hear convulsing and china shattering next door in the drawing room. There were books on the shelves, but the room looked dusty, unused. Felt unwelcoming. Not to the Amityville Get out! level, but it wasnt a room hed linger in by choice.

 WithA True and Faithful Relation of What Passed for Many Years between John Dee and Some Spirits snuggled up next toThe Confessions of St. Augustine , he suspected the shelving would give an actual librarian heart failure. He wouldnt have minded taking a look at a scuffed copy ofLetters on Natural Magic , but his fingers passed through the spine as though it wasnt there. Or more specifically, he wasnt there.

 During the previous replay, while dance music had filled the house and hed had to force himself to stop moving to the beatNight and Daywas back at the top of the play list the shelves had been filled with leather-bound books on law and business. Anything that might have belonged to Creighton Caulfield was long gone. Anything except the huge mahogany desk that continued to dominate the far end of the room.

 People had clearly died in the drawing room years earlier than theyd died dancing since these books were obviously Caulfields. There were as many in French and German as in English and a depressing number of them looked like journals. Whod notice one more? The perfect hiding place. Tony was up on the ladder peering at the badly worn titles on a set of three dark-red volumes when the lights went out.

 Fade out the past. Fade in the present.

 Ready camera one, he sighed as he climbed carefully to the floor. Take two.

 It seemed a safe assumption that the darkness lingered where the really nasty books had been. Most of them were clumped around Caulfields deskwhich emanated a distinct nasty all of its own. Retrieving his laptop and setting it down on the seat of the desk chair, Tony told himself hed best make the most of the ten minutes or so he had until Lucys replay and his one chance to find the journal during its own time.

 The top of the desk and the drawer fronts had all been re-finished to a high gloss and as he reached for the center drawers ornate brass pull, his reflection shot him a look that clearly asked if he was sure he wanted to do that.

 Im sure I dont.

 The drawer was locked. Using the cheap pocket knife attached to his key ring, he applied lessons learned a lifetime ago at juvie and jimmied it open. There may have been a spell on the laptop that wouldnt scratch the finish, but he didnt have the time.

 Didnt care much about the scratches either.

 The drawer was empty.

 All the drawers were empty.

 No secret compartments. Nothing taped to the bottoms.

 He stuck his head into the empty right side. Nothing. Left side. Something gleamed. Fingertips identified it as a square of glossy paper. It had probably fallen from a higher drawer and moisture or time or both had stuck it to the side wall. Edge of the knife behind it. . .

 He caught it as it fell and held it by the monitor.

 Photograph. A smiling woman sitting on the front step of the house, one hand raised to push dark hair off her face, the other holding a laughing baby on her lap. Most of the writing on the back had been lost against the side of the desk. The only word Tony could read clearly was Karl.

 Up in the nursery, Karl stopped crying.

 Crap.

 He shoved the picture in his pocket as the lights came up.

 Son of a . . .

 Eyes closed, stomach heaving, he scrambled backward away from the desk, bouncing off discarded drawers and the chair. He didnt stop until his shoulder blades slammed into the lower edge of the nearest bookshelf.

 During all of the other replays the house had apparently been empty of everyone but the dying. Not this time.

 Tony opened his eyes.

 There was no one at the desk.

 Except that hed seen Creighton Caulfield sitting there. His head had practically been in the mans lap. Tonys left shoulder and Caulfields left leg had been occupying the same space.

 Vomiting was still an option as he stood.

 Caulfieldhad been at the desk. Hed been . . .

 Fuck!

 Hed been writing.

 In the journal?

 No way of knowing.Sure, now I want to see him, where is he? This is worse than Stephen and . . .

 He ran for the hearth and the mirror.

 In his present, a light film of dust covered the glass. Here, in a memory of 1906, it gleamed. It was about a third the size of the gilt-framed mirror in the drawing room and appeared no more metaphysically revealing.

 Raise your hand everyone who thinks thats relevant. . .

 Deep breath. One foot up on the hearth. Left hand flat against the stone just to one side of the inset mantle. Tony arranged himself so that he wouldnt be staring at his own reflection, and looked into the glass.

 Creighton Caulfield sat at his desk writing in what could be a journal. The distance and the angle made it difficult to tell for sure. Frowning in concentration, Tony leaned a little closer.

 And Creighton Caulfield looked up.

 Fuck!

 Tony jerked back instinctively and glanced toward the other end of the room. No one. Heart pounding, positive Caulfield had been staring right at him, Tony took another cautious look in the mirror.

 Nothing had changed.

 Caulfield continued to sit, pen motionless over the page, staring toward the hearth.

 Calm down, hes just thinking.

 His head cocked at a sound Tony couldnt hearactually, he couldnt hear much of anything over the damned dance musicCaulfield smiled and placed his pen back in what looked remarkably like the inkwell that had gone missing from Raymond Darks desk. He closed his journal and stood. Tony adjusted his angle. Picked up the journal, still smiling, and headed . . .

 Right for me.

 Tony backed up as far as he could and still maintain the reflection.

 Not for me.

 For the hearth. His face filled the mirror. His eyes were a pale, pale blue with the same edge-of-insanity stare a husky had. Tony was not a big fan of crazy-looking dogs. Liked crazy-looking people a lot less, though. Even ones whod been dead for decades.

 Yeah, like that matters.

 The sudden vertigo was unexpected. The library twisted and pitched, slid several degrees sideways, and the floor came up to slam Tony in the knees.

 Where he already had bruises from his visit with Lucy.

 The actual vomiting was new, though.

 Fortunately, his last meal had been some time ago and the puddle of warm bile barely covered a square foot of floor. He was still kneeling, back arched, dry heaving like a cat horking a hairball when the lights went out.

 Suddenly, forcing his stomach up his esophagus became less important.

 His laptop was at the far end of the room.

 There was a limit to how far the light from even a magical laptop could travel.

 He was alone, in a haunted library, in the dark.

 Except it didnt seem to be as dark as it should be.

 Amy?

 No answer, just the almost echo of a nearly empty room.

 Stephen? Cassie?

 Nada. Just Karl crying and the band playing on.

 Since he was still fairly certain he was alone, precedent suggested that the extra light making it possible for him to see his surroundings wasnt a good thing.Okay, so maybe I shouldnt have skipped over that protection spell. . .

 It was the mirror.

 It was glowing. It was glowing like a computer monitor. The mirror was picking up the light of the monitor aimed at it from the far end of the room and reflecting it back. Which was impossible.

 Vampires, wizards, ghosts . . . Your life is a freak show andthisyou find impossible ?

 So what had just happened? Hed been staring into the mirror and suddenly, with Caulfield all up close and personal with the glass, the world went wonky. Odds were good it had something to do with the mirror. Like the mirror had . . .

 . . . moved.

 Im an idiot.

 And the benefit of an empty room was that no one agreed with him.

 The mirror had moved. Specifically, Caulfield had moved the mirror. Why would a man carrying a journal he kept hidden in the library move a mirror?

 Making a wide circle around the desk, still a little weirded out by the whole Caulfield experience, Tony retrieved his laptop and with it balanced in the curve of his left arm examined the mirror frame. And if he was more than a little careful about not looking in the glass, who was going to know?

 There had to be a hidden latch.

 If he could get it open and expose the hinges, he had complete faith in his demolition ability. If he could get the mirror off the wall, next time Lucy went swinging he could stand behind the desk and use it to read the reflection of the journal entries. In spite of what Henry seemed to think, the odds were good that the exposed pages wouldnt contain detailed instructions on thing-in-the-basement removal, but any information was more than he had now.

 About to run his finger along the edge of the frame, he had a sudden memory of one of the gaming geeks at film school yelling at the screen duringName of the Rose .

 Check for traps!

 Everyone had roared with laughter when Sean Conneryd fallen through the floor a second later. Best part of a long and boring movie as far as Tony was concerned, given the distinct lack of Connery and some skinny kid actor doing the nasty.

 Homoerotic subtext, my ass. Setting the laptop down, he pulled his keys from his pocket and opened his knife. Where was the action?

 The blade caught about an inch from the bottom on the left side, but no amount of wiggling it made anything happen. The light was so low and the wooden frame so dark he couldnt see exactly what was stopping the knife.

 Stephen! Cassie!

 The dark didnt seem to matter to them. Maybe they could spot what he was missing.

 



 

 Hes calling us.

 I know. Stephen turned away from the mirror and smiled. He almost looked relieved. But sos Dad.

 Hes not . . .

 Stephen raised an eyebrow.

 Just on the edge of hearing. More a feeling than a sound. Their father calling them back to the past. Back to the ax. Their wounds disappeared as they faded and the two voices became one.

 



 

 I guess deaths a decent excuse. Tony winced as the impact of ax against door seemed to shake the whole house. On the bright side, he had the afternoon sunlight back and could actually see what he was doing. Could see cracks too regular to be actual cracks in the side of the frame.

 The mirror was the same in his time as it was now. Same mirror in the exact same place on the stone. So although he couldnt touch this mirror, he could touch the mirror in his time. The same way he could reach out for the door to the ballroom. Right?

 Who the hell do I think Im asking?

 Only one way to find out.

 From the sound of the screaming, Cassie and Stephen had reached the bathroom.

 He pressed his thumb down on the wood between the cracks.

 Oh, right. Traps . . .

 Didnt seem to be any.

 Well, thats . . . good.

 The piece of frame under his thumb depressed slightly then swiveled away. At least thats what he thought it did. He closed his eyes quickly as sight and touch veered off in different directions.

 His fingertips found a finger-sized hole in the midst of metal parts.

 Put your finger in the hole and pull the latch back.

 And Ill never play the piano again.

 But a knife blade fumbled in by touch didnt work. Neither did a key.

 Put your finger in the hole and pull the latch back.

 Would you shut the fuck up, I heard you the first time.

 A final thud from the second floor. He cracked an eye to determine that yes, the lights had gone out. Karl and the band started up almost instantly.

 In the light of his laptop held up to the frame, he could see that a two-inch veneer of wood had opened to expose the latch works. Mechanism. Thing. He squinted and tried for a slightly different angle. There seemed to be somethingin the finger-sized hole. Something pointy.

 Something pointy that glistened.

 Oh, give me a fucking break, he muttered as he maneuvered his knife blade back into the hole and scraped a little of the glistening away. In the slightly blue light from the monitor, the drop of liquid on the edge of the steel looked purple.

 Apparently, it took a blood sacrifice to open the mirror.

 This blood was fresh.

 Creighton Caulfield had just opened the mirror.

 Yeah, about a hundred years ago!

 With Karl ready to hit the fire, if he was going to do this, he didnt have time to dither. Not that fear of having his soul sucked out his finger was exactly dithering.

 It hurt precisely as much as he thought it would. And, oh great, hed just exchanged bodily fluids with a crazy dead guy from the beginning of the last century.Kind of makes all those condoms seem a bit redundant .

 And closely following that thought:Henrys going to he pissed .

 But the mirror swung open, exposing a shallow hole in the stone about a foot square and maybe four inches deep.

 No problem to get the mirror off the wall now. I just ream on the hinges and . . .

 In the hole was a book.

 Or maybe I should just grab Caulfields journal while Im here.

 Out of replay or not, Tony half expected his fingers to pass through the book, but they closed around the worn, red leather. It should have smelled of mold or mildew, but it didnt, it smelled like smokemade sense he supposed, itwas in a chimney. The leather felt greasy and a little warm. And it was heavy. Heavier than it looked anyway. A quick flip of thick, cream-colored pages showed notes and diagrams written and drawn in thick black ink.

 Nowhere inside or outside the book did it say that this was Creighton Caulfields journal.

 But then, it didnt have to.

 Tucking the book under his arm, Tony closed the mirror just as the lights came up and Karl started to scream.

 Tony almost joined him. Creighton Caulfields reflection stared at him from just behind his right shoulder. Heart pounding, he spun around, but there was no one in the library, no one standing behind him close enough to touch, and, when he turned again, no one in the mirror.

 It wouldnt have been so bad, but the son of a bitch had been smiling.

 



 

 Briannas gone!

 What?

 Zev yanked Tony the rest of the way into the butlers pantry, cast and crew scattering back from their entrance. The girls were sleeping over there under the counter. I went to check on them and she was gone. Sos the second lantern.

 Tony glanced at Ashley still curled up on a pile of discarded clothes and then stared at Zev in disbelief. You had got fourteen people in a six-by-ten room. How the hell could she just grab a lantern and leave?

 Look, its late. People are tired and that damned music is distracting.

 Wait.

 You can hear the music now?

 Yeah. He winced. The trumpets off a semitone.

 She probably went to the bathroom. Tina lit another two candles and handed them to Kate. There. This room is lit. Im going after her.

 Im going with you, Zev declared.

 Maybe she went to look at the burning baby, Ashley offered sleepily. Shes always boring yack yack yacking about it.

 Shes your sister. Tina frowned down at her. You should be worried.

 Ashley snorted. As if. She once rode a polar bear at the zoo.

 No one in the room assumed it was a scheduled ride.

 How did she get into the polar bear enclosure?

 No one knows.

 Mason did a fast soft shoe, his white shirt gleaming almost as much as his smile. Maybe she went dancing. He started humming along with the band.

 Stop it! Eyes wild, Mouse grabbed his shoulders and shoved him into one of the canvas chairs which rocked and creaked with the force of the landing. Stay there! Dont move! Nobody move. They cant find us if we dont move!

 From the total lack of reaction, Tony realized that this was just more of the same. Mouse was dealing with Mason, having apparently worked the no-longer-entirely-stable actor into the scary movie playing out in his head. Kind of the inmates running the asylum, but if it worked . . .

 The situation had clearly deteriorated while he was in the library. The thing in the basement had made significant inroads into the minds of the shadow-held. So far, no one seemed about to do its evil biddingunless its evil bidding involved dancing in an enclosed spacebut things didnt look good. Pavin and Saleen sat one on either side of Kate, who was scowlingno big surprise thereand the sound tech held a prominently displayed roll of duct tape. Lee stood by the far wall, arms wrapped around his torso, head down, eyes closed. He seemed to be muttering under his breath but didnt look likely to either make a run for the ballroom or commit mass murder. Or commit mass murder andthen make a run for the ballroom.

 Tony! Peter pulled him around. What about your ghost buddies? Can they find her?

 I havent seen them since they told me about the laptop. I called, but they didnt answer.

 Hope faded, but he rallied quickly. All right, well do it without them. Tina, Zev; take the lantern and check the bathroom. While youre up there, check the burning baby room.

 I believe its called a nursery, Tina snorted.

 Fine. Call it what you want. Then Adam, Sorge, and I will take the candles and . . . As Peter opened the door, the candles blew out. Shit.

 Anyone want to bet thats going to keep happening? Amy muttered.

 No one did.

 Tony set his laptop on the counter, opened it and powered up. This doesnt throw a lot of light, but its a small room. If Tina and Zev check upstairs, I can make it to the ballroom on the replay light.

 Shooting a disdainful glare at Mason as he passed, Lee moved out of the shadows in the back of the room. And Tony really hated that imagery. Illgo with you.

 No. You cant. Its too dangerous. The ballroom already wants you.

 Ill be fine.

 Youll stay right here, Peter told him, one hand against the borrowed black T-shirt.

 Lee sneered at the directors hand but moved back against the wall.

 Ill go . . .

 No. Tony threw Amy the book. Go through this, see if theres anything useful.

 You found Caulfields journal?

 Duh.

 I dont see where it says its Caulfields journal. How do you know?

 How did he know? When I hold it . . . He frowned. Theres power there. When I hold it, it feels like my laptop.

 Lip curled, Amy rubbed her hand against her pants. It feels like it needs a facial.

 A couple of Henrys oldest books, the dark ones, the one the demon had wanted way back when, were made of human skin. Dont go there, he advised as she flipped pages. Tina. He stopped the script supervisor on her way to the door. Do you have a mirror in your purse?

 



 

 Running full out, Tony made it to the ballroom before Charles impaled his wife. One of the double doors hung open just far enough to allow an eight year old access.

 Brianna! But he doubted she could hear him over the yelling in the front hall and the now constant music. Tinas compact ready in one hand, Tony sidled sideways into the ballroom. No point in opening the door any farther. No point in asking for trouble.

 And speaking of trouble . . .

 He thought he could hear Briannas voice, but the music was louder now, even though it wasnt the ballrooms turn. He couldnt see her; there were too many boxes stacked in the way. Apparently while Charles and the missus were in the houseliving in the house, since they hadnt actually gone anywhere after they diedthe ballroom had been used for storage.

 Movement to the left.

 More boxes.

 To the right, a glint of gaslight on expensive jewelry and the rhythmic patter of hard-soled shoes against the floor.

 Except, of course, there was nothing there but more boxes.

 The replays were beginning to bleed into each other more and more.

 So. Hed ignore any distractions, grab the kid, and haul ass back to the butlers pantry. It wasgood to have a plan. Of course, it would help if he knew where in the room the kid was because this replay wasnt one of the longer ones and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in here in the dark. Briannas voice rose, and the string section very obviously screwed up a few bars.

 It seemed she was with the band.

 Logicallyas much as logic could be applied to this fun housethe bandstand would be at the far end of the room.

 The boxes were stacked in no particular order and it seemed to take forever to race through the maze. Icant believe mice fucking enjoy this !

 Certain he heard a familiar protest. . .

 My father will do you!

 . . . he opened his mouth to call her again and remembered just in time there was power in a name. Henryd taught him that years before Arrad further complicated his life. Sure, hed yelled it once, but that had been in the hall and okay, maybe theyd been using each others names all night but there was still no point in gifting it to the ballroom. Fortunately, there was an option.

 Cheese!

 The indignant, high-pitched descant shut off. He might have been reading too much into it, but a certain bounce as the music carried on suggested relief.

 Tony?

 Clearly, no one had taught Brianna the name thing.

 She didnt sound close. Had he gotten turned around?

 A heartbeat later that was the least of his problems as the lights went out.

 But Brianna had one of the lanterns!

 And in a room the size of the ballroom, that meant bugger all. She was standing maybe three meters away in the center of a small circle of orange-red light, the lantern on the floor at her feet, both hands balled into fists and planted firmly on her hips. What did you call me? Her eyes had orange-red highlights.

 Thats not important, he said as he trotted toward her, weve got to get out of here.

 No. Im not going nowhere until they do what I say!

 They? He grabbed for her arm, but she scooped up the lantern and skipped back out of his way.

 Them! A determined finger jabbed toward the wall. I want to hear something good!

 Flipping open the compact with one hand, Tony grabbed and missed with the other. In the minimal light, he could just barely make out the band.

 Brianna stomped into the reflection, took up a position directly in front of the band leader, and screamed, I want something good NOW!

 Holy shit! Was that Creighton Caulfield at the piano?

 No.

 Great. Im losing my mind.

 Another grab. Another miss. It was like chasing a pigeon.

 Tony. . .

 He jerked back, away from the voice. It sounded a little like Hartley. Right, he didnt have to worry about the house discovering his name. The house knew his name. Hell, with Brenda on board the house knew what size jeans he wore.

 Tony. . .

 Too far away now to see the reflection of the band. But there was definitely something there. Something between him and Brianna. A couple of somethings. They might have been waltzing.

 Cheese, weve got to go.

 Dont call me that!

 Youre right. I shouldnt. You should come here and kick me.

 Im not stupid!

 I never said you were.

 Tony. . .

 Crap.

 Mrs. White with the ax in the conservatory. Just after hed arrived in Vancouver with Henry, Tonyd bought a box of cereal that came with a free CD-ROM of Clue. In the current situation, it wasnt at all comforting that he totally sucked at the game.

 Now that he had light, he could see the reflections of the couples dancing between him and Brianna. Couples he didnt know.

 Tony. . .

 Fuck!

 Hartley was behind him, grinning his fool head off at the reaction hed evoked. Behind Hartley; more dancers. They all turned to look at him as they drifted by. It wasnt the ballrooms turn, but with him and Brianna standing in the midst of things, that didnt seem to matter.

 No! The way I want or Ill tell my dad! Lantern on the floor, arms in the air, Brianna was dancing.

 Her reflection was dancing with Brenda.

 Sure, warn your kids about strange men and never say a thing about dead wardrobe assistants.

 Bri, come on!

 Im dancing.

 She said it like she thought he was an idiot. Brenda laughed.

 Two steps toward her seemed to put him four steps back. Eyes closed, eyes open, it didnt help. Brianna kept dancing one little girl alone in a big roomand no matter how much it seemed like he was running forward, he kept moving toward the door.

 Tony. . . Hartley. Pulling him by his name. He didnt remember Hartleys eyes being such a pale, pale blue.

 The mirror showed more ghosts now between him and Brianna than between him and the door. The ballrooms replay was next. If he didnt get Brianna out before it started, she wouldnt be leaving alive. He didnt know how he knew that, but hed never been more certain.

 Great. Why cant I be certain of things like lottery numbers?

 He stretched out his hand.

 Were little girls more fragile than glass? The beer bottle had shattered into a hundred pieces.

 Dont think about the beer bottle, you idiot.

 Seven words. Shouted. Demanding.

 Brianna screamed as she flew across the ballroom into his hand. Not fear. Not pain. Rage.

 Little girls weighed a lot more than beer bottles. They both went down. Tony grunted as a bony elbow drove into his stomach, got an arm around her waist, and started dragging her backward toward the door. They were close. He could feel the edge of the ballroom behind him.

 Tony . . .

 Hartley had moved out in front of him.

 Oh, sure,now you dont want me to leave.

 Brianna kicked and bit, but he hung on. He had no idea where the mirror was, but he didnt need to see what was going on.

 Tony. . .

 Brenda joined the chorus.

 Tony. . .

 And that was Tom finally heard from.

 Tony. . .

 Fucking great. The whole room.

 Whats next, chanting in waltz time?

 Yes.

 He fought the pull of his name. He wasnt going farther in. He was leaving and he was taking CBs youngest with him. He just had to break their concentration for a moment. . .

 My father is going to fire your ASS!

 There shouldve been a light bulb, the idea was that good.

 Look, ballroom people, I know youre dead but just think for a minute. He jerked his head to one side as a flailing fist tried to connect with his nose. Sure shes young, full of potential power you can use, but do you honestly want to spend an eternity of trapped torment with a tired, obnoxious eight year old!

 I am NOT noxious! Youre noxious! And you SUCK!

 The last word echoed and there was good chance, given proximity, that his ears were bleeding.

 On the bright side, as the echoes died there was a stunned pause in the chanting.

 Tony scrambled backward, dragging Brianna with him. The instant he felt his butt cross the thresholdso not questioning how his butt knew the difference, but hey, go butt!he rolled back, cleared his legs, cleared Brianna, and slammed the door.

 Things thumped against the other side.

 Yeah, yeah, give it a break. Maintaining his hold on the girl, he got to his feet, dragging her upright with him. Are you okay? Nothing broken?

 I wanted to DANCE!

 Over the years with Henry, biting had become a sexual thing for Tony. That changed.

 OW!

 Brianna dove for the doors. He caught her again, favoring his bleeding hand.

 Hey, bigger, stronger, smarter here! Youre coming with me, so you might as well make it easy on both of us. OW!

 So much for reason. However, actually carrying a fighting eight year old was the next thing to impossible. One option left.

 If you come quietly, Ill take you to see the burning baby.

 Liar!

 Cross my heart.

 And hope to die?

 Not in this house.

 She thought about that for a moment. Deal.

 Good. Now lets get back to the butlers pantry before we lose . . .

 The light.

 And the lantern was in the ballroom.

 I cant see anything. She sounded more than a little put out.

 Nope. Me neither.

 Wait, turn this way. Small hands tugged him around. Whats that gray thing coming down the hall?

 Didnt seem to be a lot of point in making something up. I think its the gardeners right arm.

 The snort sounded remarkably like her father. Is it supposed to be scary?

 I have no idea. If we hold hands and I keep my other hand on the wall to guide us . . . He pressed his fingertips against the paneling. . . . we cant get lost.

 Yeah, right.

 Just walk.

 He felt her twist around. Its following us.

 Of course it is.

 Zev met them in the entry hall with the other lantern. A quick glance showed the arm remaining beyond the edge of the light, scuttling back and forth and not looking at all frightening. Still, points for the attempt.

 Passing the lantern to Tony, Zev dropped to his knees and gathered Brianna into his arms. Youre safe!

 I was dancing.And this bozo dragged me away ! was clearly audible in her tone.My father is going to fire his ass was evident in her body language.

 You can dance later. When were out of here, Zev amended hastily, tightening his hold. The important thing right now is that youre safe!

 Im safe, too.

 He looked up and smiled, and Tony couldnt remember a good reason why they broke up.

 Were you looking for us?

 No.

 The pause as he straightened and took Briannas hand went on just a little too long.

 What?

 Lees missing.

 Frankly, Tony didnt have the words.

 Brianna did.

 Whats he missing? Because if you started doing something without me, Im telling!

 Chapter Thirteen

 ?? ?

 HOW THE HELL could you just let him walk out?

 Tony demanded of the room at large. You knew the thing in the basement was getting to him!

 We didntlet him do anything! Peter snapped, dabbing at a bit of blood running from the corner of his mouth. Kate managed to grab a brass candlestick out of that lower cabinet, coldcocked Saleenhe probably has a concussion, thank you for askingkicked Pavin in the nuts, and charged the door. Thank God, Mouse wrapped himself around her leg screamingDont go !, or we wouldnt have been able to subdue her.

 Gray, duct tape shackles wrapped around Kates wrists and ankles, and she glared up at him over the linen napkin theyd used as a gag. From the way her jaw kept working, Tony suspected she was chewing her way free.

 So what youre saying is, you traded Lee for Kate.

 What?

 Good question. While his brain wondered if he wanted to get fired, his mouth rephrased and repeated. You saved Kate and just let Lee waltz out of here.

 Wasnt a waltz, Mason said thoughtfully while Peter looked stunned. I could show you a waltz that would make you weep. Im exceptionally graceful. I could have been a professional dancer.

 Ah the hell with it; hed survived without a job before. His head snapped around and he glared at Mason. No one cares.

 Tony . . .

 Shut up, Zev.

 Tony had shoved Brianna at Zev and raced back to the ballroom the moment hed heard Lee was missing. Hed run on instinct through the pitch-black mess, bounced off at least one wall, may have kicked through something numbingly cold. Arriving seconds before the ballrooms replay, hed placed himself in front of the barred doors. He wouldnt be able to see Lee, but hed be able to grab him if he tried to push by.

 He hadnt. Although Tony could feel the dead brushing up against the door at his back . . . Heard his name whispered, called, caroled, sung, and rapped with a painful lack of skill. Rap that badhad to have been Tom. Heard nothing that gave any indication things in the ballroom had changed during the replay. That Lee had reached the doors before him.

 Or used one of the other two.

 Damn!

 The door into the garden required leaving the house, so it was off limits. Obviously. The door the servants used that led into a hall off the kitchen, however . . .

 When the replayd ended, Zev had been there with the lantern and a worried frownthe worry obviously for him, the immediate cause of the frown a little less obvious. Hed followed as Tony raced around to the servants door. Padlocked.

 The replay was over and Lee wasnt in the ballroom.

 Which was of dubious comfort since he wasnt in the butlers pantry either.

 Mouse cowering, Mason dancing, Kate tapedno Lee.

 Did you just tell me to shut up? Zev.

 Who the hell do you think you are? Adam.

 Jesus, Tony, chill. Amy.

 Me, I never trust him. Sorge.

 Now, lets all just calm down. Tina.

 All five simultaneously.

 Pavin was moaning about his balls. Saleen sat quietly holding his head. He could hear Ashley and Brianna talking but lost content in the mix.

 Peter held up a hand and the babble dimmed. Ginger brows dipped as he fixed Tony with a basilisk stare. Ill make some allowance for the situation, Mr. Foster . . . Mr. Foster. CB talk. Peter used it when he was emphasizing he was the boss under the boss. . . . but I will not be accused of trading my costar for a number two camera. Andyou should try to remember youre aproduction assistant . Emphasis suggested he might not be for much longer.

 No.

 Excuse me?

 Tony stretched out his hand, said the incantation, and the Caulfield journal slipped out of Amys fingers, across five feet of crowded pantry, and slapped into his palm. Until were out of this house, Im the wizard whos trying to save everyones ass.

 Silence. Even Kate stopped gnawing and muttering.

 Peter glanced from Amys hands to Tonys, his eyes tracking the trajectory of the book. Everyone else merely stared. Sure, hed moved Masons lighter way back when, but that was small stuff. A book looked impressive. It was the most impressive magic any of them had seen him do. Even Amy had only seen him talking to empty air and then convulsing. Hell, back when hed been shooting up, he used to do that all the time.

 And after? Peter asked at last.

 After? Tonys shoulders sagged; he was tired and Lee was gone. Fuck, can we just worry about during?

 The director nodded. Once. Sure.

 Hed probably never work in this town again. Hard to get worked up about it at the moment, but he had a strong feeling hed regret that whole mouth first, brain second thing later. All right. Lee. If he didnt answer the call to the ballroom, where did he go?

 He didnt go in to see Brenda. I stuck my head in the drawing room before I met up with you, Zev expanded when the mention of Brenda brought puzzled frowns.

 Amy wiped the hand that had been holding the journal on her pants and folded her arms. Hes not in the kitchen. He went out the door that leads that way, so I used the monitor and just kind of looked without leaving the pantry. I leaned. She tilted a little, illustrating. If hes been, you know, possessed, I dont want to end up dead. Like Brenda.

 If hes been possessed . . .

 Tony couldnt think of another reason why Leed leave the others and go wandering around in the dark. Especially when he considered the way hed been acting. What with the kissing and all.

 So he could be in the conservatory, the library, or up on the second floor. In a house this size that was a lot of territory to cover. Weve got one lantern, a computer monitor, and candles that blow out the moment we open the pantry doors.

 Why not while theyre lit in the pantry? Tina wondered.

 Amy shrugged. Maybe the thing in the basement is hoping well burn ourselves down.

 Nice, Zev snorted, smacking her shoulder.

 Amy smacked him back. She asked. And to Tony. Bet youre wishing youd learned that Wizards Lamp now.

 He can make light? Tina folded her arms. Then why isnt he?

 Because I cant, Tony told her, wondering just who exactly shed been asking. Theres a spell in the computer, but. . .

 You learned the talk-to-Lucy spell, Amy reminded him.

 No, I didnt learn it, I just performed it. Half of it. He held up his shirt, so the others could see the burn.

 Tinas expression softened. Does it hurt?

 Only when I slam an eight year old into it. Yes.

 Zev acknowledged the burn and moved on. But what harm could making light do?

 Well . . . Stretching the fabric out a careful distance from blistered skin, he pulled down his T-shirt. . . . the first attempt at a spells always tricky, so I could blind myself. Okay, that received more in the way of thoughtful consideration than sympathy. Or I could blind everyone still alive in the house.

 The amount of light may be moot, Peter announced suddenly, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight back on his heels. Im not sure we should go looking for Lee. Remember what happened when Brenda found Hartley, he continued when all eyes turned to him. Lees safer if no one finds him. Remember, its murder and then suicide. He stressed the second word. No murder; no suicide. And wereall still alive. Met Tonys gaze. Oh, wait, you have powers that will protect us from Lee, dont you?

 He could lie. He wanted to lie. He was agood liar.

 No. But theres safety in numbers. Well search for him in groups.

 Peter nodded toward the lantern. Group. Except you probably have a plan to retrieve the lantern you left behind.

 Because he was the wizard who was going to save their asses. He sighed. That had to have been the worlds shortest coup. Look, Im sorry. You know, Lee . . . Brianna . . . Except hehad saved Brianna; that should count for something. Anyway . . .He punctuated the truncated apology with a shrug.

 Peters eyes narrowed. So you dont have a plan.

 Oh, for . . .

 No, I dont have a freakin plan, all right? The lanterns in the ballroom and at the speed the replays are happening, I dont want to open the ballroom door and risk being caught with it still open when its turn comes around again.

 I think I have a solution to that. Amy crossed the room and pointedly took the journal back. Tony suspected thered be an apology in her future as well. There are these symbols that keep the thing in the basements power contained. Theyre all over the house, probably all thats kept it from murder/suiciding its way across the lower mainland. She flipped the book open to a page of what looked like random squiggles shed marked with a doubled-over piece of tape. If you copy this symbol here from wall to wall across the threshold of the ballroom like a barricade, then those dead dancing foolssince theyre part of the things powerthey wont be able to cross.

 Are you sure?

 Yes, absolutely. Mostly. Caulfields notes are a little . . . undetailed.

 Brianna pulled a water bottle away from her mouth with a pop of releasing suction. Why dont you draw the symbol thingie in front of the hand?

 What hand?

 She pointed with the bottle. That one.

 It had come through the door as far as the wrist, gray and translucent fingers combing the air.

 Its come to take me dancing, Mason announced over the perfectly understandable screaming. He jumped to his feet and would have run to meet it except Mouses sudden hysterics knocked him over backward, slamming them both onto the chair hed been sitting on and crushing it. Kicking himself free of the wreckage, he dove onto the wildly thrashing cameraman, fists and feet flailing into flesh as he accused the other man of never taking him dancing.

 Well, that settles that, Zev muttered. Masons reality has left the building.

 The arm was through the door to the elbow. Barely an inch or two of hacked bicep remained outside the room.

 As the others dove to break up the battleMouse having found a direction for his hysteria in violenceTony grabbed Amys arm. What symbol exactly?

 A black-tipped nail tapped what looked like a three-dimensional sketch of a croissant. This one.

 Given her previous answer, it seemed pointless to ask again if she was sure. Besides, it looked a lot like the mark the basement door had left on his hand. And like the mark he thought hed seen as he closed the ballroom doors. Maybe all the doors had them.

 All the doors but the two leading into the butlers pantry.

 Great choice of room, guys.

 He didnt have a pen.

 The arm scuttled toward Ashley, who drew her bare feet up under the edge of her pinafore and screamed. The sound was piercing, echoing around the enclosed space like shards of glass. Even the arm paused.

 He didnt have time to find a pen. Using the tip of his tongue, he licked the pattern onto the palm of his left hand and made a grab for the stump end of the arm.

 The cold burned, but he could feel resistance under his fingers, so he tightened his grip and whipped it back out through the door.

 Here! Amy shoved a small plastic tube into his other hand. Mark the threshold before it comes back.

 And thatll help how? he demanded, staring down at the lipstick. Its a ghost hand; it can go through the wall!

 No, it cant or the ballroom doors wouldnt keep the dead contained!

 That actually made sense. Mostly.

 Dropping to his knees, he twisted up half an inch of magenta cream. Hold the book where I can see it.

 Why dont you . . . She whistled softly as he raised his left hand. Fingers and thumb were curled in toward his palmtouching neither palm nor each other. Tendons stood out across the back in sharp relief. Ow.

 Yeah.

 It wasnt a particularly difficult symbol compared to some Arra had loaded onto the computer. Although as far as he knew, none of Arras lessons involved precision copying while racing the return of a disembodied ghost arm. Trying to balance speed and accuracy, Tony laid out the pattern end to end on the floor in a slight curve from one side of the door to the other.

 So, Amy murmured by his ear, voice pitched to carry over the roaring and swearing and shrieking behind them. This is the arm the little old lady chopped off the gardener?

 One of. A sharp impact against his shoulder spun him around in time to see Amy shove Adam back into the battle. She apologized and adjusted the angle of the book.

 Kind of makes you wonder who the Addams family chopped Thing off of, she mused as he continued drawing.

 Hadnt occurred to me.

 Oh, please. You see a hand chugging around and you dont think Thing? I loved those movies.

 First one didnt suck. The second . . .

 The second was brilliant. I mean it so speaks to all us outsiders who were told by brutal authority that sleeping in a cabin with gum chewers and gigglers was for our own good. When Tony shot her a look of blank incomprehension, she sighed. You mustve had some kind of a camp experience when you were a kid.

 The lipstick left a ridge of color on the floor as he pressed just a little too hard. Ihad a couple of friends who were drag queens.

 Thats not what I meant.

 I know. He finished the last line of the last symbol, rocked back on his heels and up onto his feet. I guess well know this works if the arm doesnt come back.

 What if its heading for the other door?

 Uh . . .

 Between them and the other door was a roiling mass of bodies. Brianna appeared momentarily above the mix of arms and legs and torsos wrapped around whatgiven the size and the work bootcould only be Mouses foot. Tony half expected her to yell Yee ha! as she disappeared back into the fray.

 . . . it doesnt move very fast.

 Good thing, Amy acknowledged philosophically. What about your hand? She lightly touched the pale skin. Its freezing!

 No shit.

 Ghosts need energy to manifest, so the cold is indicative of them sucking power.

 Yeah, Stephen said something like that earlier.

 Stick it down the front of your pants.

 What?

 Your handstick it down the front of your pants. Its the warmest place on your body.

 Footwork Mason would have been proud of kept him from scuffing the pattern as he backed away. Yeah, and Id like it to stay that way.

 Well, youre not sticking it down the front of my pants.

 Damn right, Im not. He stuck it into his right armpit, sucked air through his teeth at the cold and watched as Amy darted forward and dragged Kate out from under Mouses descending ass just in the nick of time. Kates snarl was incomprehensible, but the attempted kick in the head with her bound legs was fairly easy to understand.

 Amy patted her shoulder. Youre wel . . .

 He lost the end of the word in the next replay. The good news: this time thered been a little more time between the ballroom and the drawing room. The arm had to be using energy now that it was out of its piece of history so that could be why the replays were spreading out again. The bad news: well, actually that was more of a disturbing question. The gardener had been cut into six pieces. What else was out there moving around?

 The plate of little cakes was back on the pantry counter. Last time hed been here . . .

 He couldnt believe he was just standing here when all he wanted to do was tear the house apart looking for Lee.

 The good of the many outweighs the need of the one.

 And thank you, Mr. Spock, for your two cents worth. Stupid, goddamned, sanctimonious Vulcan . . .

 The familiar sound of duct tape being ripped from the roll accompanied his return to the present pantry and seemed to indicate that the battle was nearly over. The slightly less familiar sound of duct tape being ripped from Mouses legs with accompanying bellowsuggested there were still a few loose ends to tie up. And a lot less hair on Mouses legs.

 Restealong!

 Light glinted off the ornate, brass candlestick as Sorge raised it above his head. It was on the way down before Tony realized where it was headed and it was close enough to part Masons hair when he called it to his hand.

 Sorge! Sorge!

 The DPs eyes were wild as he glared first at Peters hand on his arm and then up at Peter.

 Beating Mason to death is not the answer! Trust me, if it was, Id have done it months ago!

 Il reste toujours along dewont!

 In English. Please.

 I say, he wont lie still! He smacked his palm against Masons chest. Imake him lie still! He scanned the room and his eyes locked on the candlestick still in Tonys hand. Give me that!

 Sorge, look, the guys have got him taped.

 Taped? His brows drew in and he shook his head. No, we cant tape. The light, she is all wrong.

 No, no,duct tape.

 His focus moved to the bands of gray around the cuffs of tuxedo pants and dress shirt. Ah.

 Mason craned his head up and stared at the tape as though he was seeing it for the first time. You cant do this to me! Dont you know who I am? Its all about me! Im Raymond Dark! You have no show without me!

 We have no show if you go for a wander and get killed, Peter told him, shaking out a match to the linen napkin gagging Kate.

 My agent is going to hear about this!

 He was sounding remarkably lucid. Apparently Peter thought so, too, because he paused and peered into Masons face, napkin ready. If you lie quietly, I wont gag you.

 And the tape?

 The tape stays.

 Because Ive been captured by vampire hunters and Im lying quietly, listening to their plans.

 Okay, so much for lucid.

 Why not. Peter pocketed the napkin and patted Masons shoulder. Please dont mention that to the writers, he muttered as he stood. Turned. Frowned down at both techs, Brianna, Zev, and Adam who were sitting on Mouse. Why isnthe taped?

 Saleen held up the empty cardboard roll. Weve got electrical, but it wont hold long enough for us to get enough around him.

 Wonderful. You couldnt have taped him first?

 Oh, sure, criticize. His lower lip went out.

 Brianna bounced on Mouses wrist. I have to pee!

 Big surprise the way you sucked back that bottle of water, Ashley sniffed from within the circle of Tinas arms.

 I have to pee NOW!

 Fine. Shoulders squared, a man facing the inevitable, Peter pointed at Tina. Tina, take the lantern and . . .

 No! Ashley tightened her grip. Masons gone mental, so Tina stays with me!

 Whatever, Zev . . .

 But when Zev shifted his weight, Mouse got an arm free. Tears streaming down his face, the big man grabbed the back of Saleens shorts and very nearly started the whole fight again before Zev wrestled his arm back to the floor.

 All right, Amy, you take Brianna upstairs. Zev, movecarefully around to hold down both arms. Adam, once Zevs in place, you go with her. Check the bathroom for Leemaybe hes just taking a piss. Tony, do the lipstick writing in front of the other door.

 I want Tony to go with me! Brianna opened her mouth to shriek, but Tony clamped his good hand over it.

 Bite me, he warned, and Ill pull your brains out your nose. No more shrieking, the rooms too small and everyones on edge.

 Her nostrils flared dangerously over the edge of his hand, but she nodded. My father would fire you if you pulled my brains out my nose, she growled when he uncovered her mouth.

 Yeah? Well, right now, on a scale of one to ten, thats about a minus two. Ill go with you . . .Because the needs of little girls trump the needs of possessed actors. Im sorry, Lee . . . . but first Im securing this room.

 No,me first.

 You want your sister to be safe, dont you?

 Brianna shot him a look that suggested he was out of his mind, but after a moment reluctantly nodded. Yeah, whatever.

 He stepped over Mason, and crouched by the other door. The door that led to the kitchen. The door that Lee had gone through when he left. The door he was not charging through, racing off to the rescue.You cant go after him right now, so try concentrating on the immediate problem . How long would it take an arm to get around the first floor? Hopefully, a few minutes longer. Amy . . .

 And she was there with the book.

 No longer distracted by a battle behind him, the copying went a little faster. When he finished, he handed Amy the flattened lipstick. She sighed, capped it, and handed it back.

 Hel-lo! I still gotta pee!

 Fine. One hand clamped on her shoulder, Peter gestured toward the supine cameraman with the other. Tony, take Zevs spot on Mouse. Ill keep Sorge from braining Mason . . .

 And I do the same for you, Sorge muttered staring down at Mason who smiled and said, What the vampire hunters dont know is that its my show, so its all about me. Its always all about me.

 Peter nodded at his DP. Thank you. Zev, go upstairs with Amy and Brianna and Adam.

 Hang on. Tony stepped forward and bumped up against Masons leg. I thought I . . .

 No. Youre staying here. Im not having the boss youngest daughter escorted through a haunted house by a PA who keeps zoning out. Unless you can protect them with your magic power.

 Man, he just wasnt going to let that go. Tony sighed and surrendered, moving around to where Zev had Mouses arms laid out over his head with a knee on each forearm and a good grip above the elbow. The moment they got back from the can, he was heading out for the other lantern and the moment after that, they were going to find Lee.

 Brianna stomped one bare foot. I want Tony!

 Peter smiled down at her. Tough.

 My father . . . !

 Isnt here.

 Her brow furrowed and she glanced around the room, gaze finally lighting on her sister.

 Ashleys shrug got lost in the depths of Masons jacket. Hes right. And theres like arms walking around, so stop being such a pissant, Cheese.

 But Tony said hed show me the burning baby. Volume dialed down to a whine. He promised.

 You promised? Tinas head snapped around like a bad horror effect. You promised to show an eight year old a burning baby?

 Although they were a good four feet apart, Tony leaned away from the force of the script supervisors affronted gaze. It got her out of the ballroom, he muttered defensively, then turned his attention to the girl. Look, Bri, Peters right. Probably too late, but it never hurt to suck up. I cant protect you if I zone out, but I can still be dead weight here.

 Youre not dead!

 Its a . . . never mind. Zev can show you the baby.

 No, he cannot! Tina snarled.

 If I dont see the baby . . . Volume ratcheted back up again. . . . youll all be sorry!

 No one doubted it.

 Show her, Peter said, eyes rolling.

 You wont be able to see it, Tony reassured Zev as he choked, but Im pretty sure she will. Given that everyone had seen the hand, it was possible that Zev would also see the baby. Since that hadnt occurred to Zev, Tony wasnt going to bring it up. Just open the nursery door, give her a three count to look, and then close it. Dont let her go in and dont keep the door open any longer.

 Do I want to know why? Zev asked taking Briannas hand.

 No. He popped the top off Amys lipstick with his teeth, and beckoned Brianna closer with his nearly useless left hand. Pull your apron thing out tight. He carefully drew the symbol on the fabric. There, that might help.

 She peered down her nose at it. With what?

 I have no idea.

 Brenda is going to have a fit! Mason giggled. As all eyes turned on him, he sighed dramatically. Yes, I know, an out-of-character comment. Unless, of course, one of the vampire hunters name is Brenda, in which case its a perfectly valid . . . Hey! Dont stop looking at me! Im acting here! Im the star!

 Tony had assumed that the killers were always the ones the house had driven over the edge. If the common urge to brain Mason was any indication, apparently not.

 The kitchen sinks closer than the bathroom, Amy sighed, taking Briannas other hand. Why cant she just pee in that?

 Even Mouse stopped weeping long enough to look appalled.

 What? Youve never done it? Youre guys; you pee in corners for chrissake!

 Iam not a guy, Tina reminded her, and this child is not peeing in the sink.

 But . . .

 No.

 What is it with people and bodily fluids? Amy demanded. Healthy urine is safe to drink.

 Why do you know that? Zev asked as Adam picked up the lantern. He shook his head when it looked like she was about to answer. Never mind. I dont actually want to know.

 Lantern high, Adam paused, his hand almost to the doorknob. What if the arm didnt go around to the other door? What if its waiting in the dining room for this door to open?

 Its an arm, Tony said after a moment. I dont think its that smart.

 Its an arm, Zev repeated. We shouldnt even be having this conversation.

 Just stay inside the pattern. Thats whats stopping it, not the door.

 What if Lees waiting in the dining room?

 Where Hartley killed Brenda.

 Then slam the door and Brianna can pee on someones foot.

 Hanging between Zev and Amy, Brianna looked intrigued.

 Door open.

 No arm.

 No Lee.

 If Lee goes after them, do you think they can stop him? Tina asked as footsteps started up the stairs.

 Zev and Adam can handle him, Peter told her leaning against the counter. Hes an actor, for crying out loud.

 Hes a costar, Mason muttered.

 What happened to lying quietly and listening to the vampire hunters plans?

 Right.

 Tina tightened her grip on Ashley. I cant believe youre allowing that child to look at a burning baby.

 Its not a real baby, Tony offered. Its a ghost baby.

 Shell be traumatized.

 Perhaps, Peter allowed. But better a supervised visit than have her go charging off on her own again. I think CBd rather get her back traumatized than not at all.

 The Cheese doesnt have nightmares, if thats what youre worried about. Mom says shes like Dad; sensitivity of a post. Ashley pulled out of Tinas arms and stuffed her hands in the pockets of Masons tuxedo jacket. Me, Im like Mom. Ill have screaming nightmares about that arm coming right at me for years. And years. Itll probably stunt my growth. She shot Mason a challenging look through her lashes. Im very sensitive.

 Mason nodded. So am I. But then, Im a star. I thought we were going dancing; why am I tied up?

 Captured by vampire hunters, Peter sighed, fondling the napkin.

 Right.

 Tony shifted position to give a different set of bruises a chance to ache and saw that Mouse, whod been lying quietly under the weight of three men, was staring up at him, his eyelashes clumped into damp triangles. You okay?

 Youve been avoiding me.

 So not the time to go into this. No, I havent.

 Yeah.

 Im right here.

 The big man sighed. Not now, before.

 I havent. He looked up to see he was once again the center of attention. Really. I havent.

 Ever since I kissed you.

 Crap.

 Hes not himself.

 Peter leaned back, folded his arms and crossed one ankle over the other. Sounds like hes having a lucid moment to me.

 Hes not.

 Did I hurt you? Mouses lower lip trembled.

 No, Tony reassured him hurriedly. No, you didnt hurt me. And just to reassure everyone else. He didnt kiss me either.

 Kissed you in the bus shelter.

 Sorge snickered. Bus shelter? That one of those gay euphemisms?

 Kissed you when the Shadowlord controlled me.

 And crap again.

 Okay, hes definitely delusional, Tony sighed. And given the condition Mouse had been in for most of the evening the irrational terror, the weepingit would have been believable except. . .

 Oh, sure, acting like youre the only one to remember the Shadowlord! Youre just a cameraman. He liked me best.

 Masons current condition made him less than reliable as backup except . . .

 The Shadowlord? Kate spat out the last of shred of damp napkin. I remember that son of a bitch!

 And Tinawho spent fourteen-hour days keeping track of dialogue changes and shot numbers and continuity while half a dozen people clambored for her attention and a dozen more built and brought to life Raymond Darks world around herput the pieces together. I wonder, she said softly, if Hartley and Lee would remember this Shadowlord. What else arent you telling us, Tony?

 What else? Best defensegood offense. What do you mean what else?

 You didnt tell us you were a wizard.

 I told you!

 Somewhat after the fact. And since this is apparently a new thing, she added, folding her arms, I find myself wondering about the circumstances of your discovery and just where these particular people and the Shadowlord fit in.

 The Shadowlord made me kiss Tony, Mouse sniffed.

 Saleen finally looked interested. Kinky.

 If the Shadowlord wanted to kiss someone, he should have kissed me, Mason muttered indignantly.

 The Shadowlord can kiss my ass! Kate barked.

 Tony?

 Im sure both Mason and Kate are very kissable. Great. Humor; not working. Tina was clearly not going to let it go. Look, it happened way back in the spring. Its not important now. He waved his still not entirely usable left hand around the roomboth a gesture and a reminder. Weve got other stuff to worry about.

 Right on cue, a door slammed in the distance and multiple pairs of feet pounded down the stairs. Adam yelled for Amy. Then they were in the dining room. Then the pantry door opened. The three adults charged in, Brianna riding Zevs hip.

 We didnt see Lee, Adam began, setting the lantern on the counter. Although this one . . . He jerked his head at Amy. . . . went for a bit of a wander.

 I went to the front door, Amy snorted. I checked on Everett. And the good news is hes still breathing. We skipped across the hall to Lees dressing roomtogether . She threw the emphasis at Adam. Hes not there. Suddenly realizing her audience wasnt paying full attention, she frowned. Whats wrong?

 Seems that Tony only came partway out of the wizard closet.

 Amy glanced over at him and he shrugged, hoping he looked like the rational one in the room.

 Does the termShadowlord mean anything to you? Tina asked her.

 Not to me. She glanced over at her companions. Adam and Zev shook their heads. Brianna yawned.

 Mason, Mouse, and Kate all remember a Shadowlord.

 Yeah, and theyre loopy.

 Go, Amy. Point out the obvious.

 Tina shook her head, denying that was the end of the matter. Tony as much as admitted there was something to it.

 He had? Why the hell had he done that?

 It happened last spring, Sorge put in.

 Last spring? Amy rolled her eyes. Please, a lot of strange shit happened last spring. Just before Arra left, everyone was having those weird memory lapses.

 Not everyone, Tina said slowly, thoughtfully. Lee lost about eight hours. Kate lost nearly forty-eight. Mouse got into that fight that broke his jaw but doesnt remember it. Hartley fell off the wagon. And Tony had that little fit in the soundstage.

 Tony?

 And that little fit gave him the perfect excuse. He just had to convince them that hed lost his memory, too. Unfortunately, the lights came up and Lucy Lewis pushed a nameless fellow servant down the back stairs before he could begin.





 

 Tony didnt know why Saleen thought the electrical tape wouldnt hold Mouse; it seemed to be holding him just fine. A quick glance to the right showed that Mouse was weeping again, Saleen and Pavin were looking bruised, and Mason had a rising goose egg on his forehead. He thought about apologizing, but since he had no idea if hed been responsible, he decided to let it go.

 The boy in the bathroom didnt even notice the thing you drew. Hes hiding cause hes scared of his daddy. Crouched by his head, Brianna fingered her apron as she murmured into his left ear. Karls mommy didnt like it. Cept she couldnt see it because she had sticks in her eyes. The baby was way gross. I saw a movie just like it once.

 This isnt a movie.

 I know. If it was, thered be popcorn and I wouldnt be . . . she yawned. . . . bored.

 So youre back. Peter took Brianna by the shoulder and pulled her away.

 Since hed obviously been talking, there didnt seem to be much point in denying it. Whats with the tape?

 Just dont want any surprises.

 Surprises? What kind of surprises?

 You tell us, Tony. Last spring, two people died.

 I had nothing to do with that! How could they possibly connect that to him? Amy? Zev?

 A man who cheats on his wife will cheat on his mistress, Amy muttered unhappily.

 What the hell is that supposed to mean?

 It means you lied to us, Zev told him, looking betrayed. And if you can lie about one thing . . .

 You mean about being a wizard? Neck aching, he let his head bounce back on the floor. I didnt exactly lie. I mean, you never asked if I was a wizard.

 I asked how you got a hunk of beer bottle embedded in your arm. You said you were just goofing around.

 I was.

 With a spell?

 Yeah, but I didnt exactlylie .

 Before Zev could respondalthough his opinion of Tonys answer was pretty clear from his expression, Peter stepped between them. We want the truth about what happened last spring, Tony.

 Because nothing says trust us like electrical tape, Tony muttered, struggled a moment, and glared up at them. What about Lee? Lees still out there!

 Before we go after Lee, we want the whole story.

 Why? The shit that went down last spring has nothing to do with the shit thats happening tonight.

 If the Shadowlord was here, hed take me dancing, Mason muttered.

 Tony winced. Okay, some people are more . . . uh,open to the house because of it, but thats all.

 You dont think it might have been helpful to know that?

 No. Maybe. Lee . . .

 You want to go after him? Talk fast.

 Seemed like he didnt have an option.

 



 

 You messed with our memories! Tina clutched at the front of her blouse with one hand and balled the other up into a fist. Appalled or angryit looked like it could go either way. Tony knew what he was voting for.

 I didnt. Arra did.

 Amy snorted. Oh, thats so much better.

 Your memory didnt even get messed with, he reminded her. You and Zev had already left the studio.

 Yeah, and thats another thing; how come I got left out!

 You werent left out. Youd just gone home.

 She tossed her head. Oh, sure, you say that now.

 How do we know hes not still lying? Peter asked Sorge as Tony tried to figure out Amys damage. Gates to another world, invading armies of shadows. . . this is the kind of crap our writers keep coming up with.

 No, its crappier.

 Not as clichd as that story about the gas leak, though. I can think of half a dozen shows thatve used it to explain away stuff with no explanation.

 True.

 Tina leaned between them. He messed with our memories!

 And he left out the part about Tina providing snackies for the bastard son of Henry VIII, too. In fact, hed left Henry out entirely. He and Arra and CB had saved the world all on their own.

 Backhanding both Peters and Sorges chests to ensure she had their attention, Tina added, Whats to say he wont mess with our memories again?

 Hey! I had nothing to do with that decision. It was all CB and Arra!

 Her eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled. We only have your word for that.

 So we keep him tied?

 Peter shrugged. Id feel safer.

 Oh, for . . . Tony bounced his head on the floor a couple of times.

 What about the second lantern? Peter asked. Sweat beaded the five oclock shadow on his upper lip. He wasnt as calm as he sounded.

 We could go get it, Adam suggested. We only have his word that the ballrooms dangerous.

 Oh, man. Tony lifted his head again. Brianna, whats in the ballroom?

 Dancing dead people. And a really gross band. She thoughtfully scratched the back of her right leg with the toes of her left foot. And Brenda. She danced with me.

 Thats it. Untie me immediately. What kind of place is this where a wardrobe assistant can go dancing but not a star!

 Peter hurriedly shifted over so that he was in the actors line of sight. Mason, we just need to work out a few parts of the shot with the vampire hunters.

 But . . .

 You know how your fan mail increases when we tie you up.

 Right.

 It did, too. Tony couldnt see why. Mason tied up did nothing forhim , but forty-year-old straight women were into the damnedest things. Shifting position, he discovered that the tape around his wrists might have stretched just a little. Rolling his wrists together, he kept working at it.

 All right. Peter squared his shoulders. I think we should leave the lantern in the ballroom and go looking for Lee. He didnt sound completely convinced, but it was a start.

 Its a big house, Tony reminded him. Youll need. . .

 Youll need to be quiet. The director waved a napkin at him. Kate had recently been regagged with another in the set. The abusive profanity had nearly drowned out Tonys story. Adam, Zev, youre with me. Amy, light a couple of candles after were gone and work on the journal.

 What about the gardeners arm?

 I think we can handle one ghostly arm.

 Tony had to handle it the last time.

 And we havent seen it since, have we?

 Peter . . .

 No, Mr. Foster. Peters smile was tight and uncompromising. I think well manage to save our own. . . .

 Asses, Tony finished silently as the lights came up and Cassie and Stephens father started swinging his ax.

 When the lights went out, Zev was cutting the tape around his ankles with the knife attached to his key chain.

 Lees in the basement.

 How do you know?

 The door was open.

 Open!

 Its all right, its closed now. The gardeners hand closed it. But not before we heard Lee calling for you.

 For me? Why was Zev rolling his eyes?

 He sounded . . . Adam paused to search for a description clearly not in his vocabulary. Well, he didnt sound happy, he finished at last.

 I told him he was no hero, Mason sniffed.

 When? One question, multiple voices.

 Just before he left. He said he was going off to be a hero. I said he was only a costar. He told me to fuck myself. And then he left. Rude bastard.

 Peter ran both hands back through his hair, exhaling as he brought them down, and clasped them together. Why didnt you mention that before? he asked wearily.

 Mason rolled his eyes. Well, its not about me, is it?

 Chapter Fourteen

 ?? ?

 WHY WOULD LEE go down in the basement? Tony demanded, ripping the severed pieces of electrical tape off his wrists.

 Amy snorted. Because hes possessed by an evil house?

 Yeah, that was a gimme. Throwing the tape aside, he stood. Now he knew where Lee was, he wanted nothing more than to go charging off to the rescue. Challenge the thing in the basement to single combat for the hand of the fair . . . okay, not fair . . . and not a maiden either, but the challenge to single combat stuff still stood. Except, he wasnt the hero. Hell, he wasnt even the costar. Hed survived on the streets by brokering information, andalthough he hated taking the time because of the whole Lee-very-likely-in-mortal-danger thingthere was just too much information here he didnt have. What does thehouse want Lee to do down in the basement?

 To get beer out of the fridge? Adam shrugged as attention turned to him. What? Its why I go to the basement.

 And very not relevant in this case, Peter snapped.

 Well, excuse me for trying to help.

 Tony wanted to pace, but there wasnt enough room. It cant want his energy, thats what the ballrooms for.

 Brianna looked up from searching through Zevs backpack and blew a raspberry. The ballrooms stupid.

 If the thing in the basement set up the ballroom as the big bad, its not that impressive, Zev agreed, taking his earphones out of her hand before she could completely unspool them. You two got out really easy.

 It wasntthat easy, Tony protested.

 Youre a production assistant who knows one spell; youre not exactly . . .

 Raymond Dark, Mason muttered.

 Mason had a point. Raymond Dark always won through no matter how great the odds stacked against him because if he lost, there wouldnt be a show. But no one was writing a script filled with coincidence and handy FX for Tony.

 Who told you the ballroom was the big bad? Amy asked, her brow furrowed.

 Stephen and Cassie.

 The dead-as-doorknobs duo.

 Yeah, so?

 Ignoring the whole dead-people-maybe-not-a-reliable-source, maybe the ballroom is bad for thembecause theyre dead. Brianna says it sucked in Brenda . . .

 And Tom and Hartley, Tony added, remembering. And Stephen said something about it almost getting Cassie once.

 Its like the ballroom is a big tornado. She sketched spiraling visual aids in the air. And all the replays are little tornados and the big tornado, just because of its size, keeps trying to suck the little ones into it. Although not activelytrying as such.

 That makes sense. And that was almost the scariest thing Tonyd run into all night.

 So its bad for the ghosts, not so bad for the living.

 And if the door is open?

 Tornado spreads throughout the house and again, all the little ones are sucked in. But it only works one way because Brenda and Hartley and Tom got in through a closed door. It wants the energy of the livingthats why its callingbut it cant suck it up unless it can keep them in there dancing until they die.

 Please tell me youre not working on a script, Peter muttered.

 Amy ignored him. So its not the ballroom we should be worrying about. Its the basement. It always was.

 So you could have stopped him if youd gone to the basement door instead of the ballroom.

 Tony glared over at Mason, still taped but now propped up against the lower cupboards.

 The actor shrugged. Im just saying.

 We need the other lantern back, Tina announced in a tone that offered no room for argument. Tony cant go down in the basement with our only reliable source of light.

 Because he might not be coming back, Peter agreed.

 Because the thing in the basement wants Tony specifically.

 Say what?

 Zev sighed. Lee was calling for you, remember. Its just using Lee as bait. As soon as it had full possession of him, it took him away. It didnt use him to strangle Tina.

 Why me? Tina wondered, fixing him with a worried stare as she leaned away.

 Nothing personal. You were just closest.

 If youre having a problem with me, Zev, we should talk about it.

 Theres no problem. He made soothing gestures with his hands. It didnt use Lee to strangle Peter or Sorge either.

 Or Mason, who, in Tonys opinion, had to be the odds-on favorite. Although, since Mason was also at least partially possessed, he was probably safe. But why would the thing in the basement want me?

 I dont know, the music director sighed. Could it be because youre a wizard?You moron rang out so clearly it was more text than subtext. If it can take you out, were sitting ducks.

 Theres three dead with his help, Adam muttered. How much worse can it get without him?

 Look around. You do the math.

 Doesnt matter. Tony had all the information he needed. Lee as bait was a different matter than Lee possessed. As long as no one made themselves available as the murder half of the murder/suicide, a possessed Lee was safe. As bait, the danger he was in would escalate until Tony arrived to save the day. Night. Whatever. Point was, Lee needed him.

 Amy grabbed his arm and hauled him away from the door into the kitchen. And whatll you do when you get to the basement? she demanded.

 Call Lee into my hand and get the hell out. Itll work! he added as her brows disappeared under the fringe of magenta hair. Its how I got Brianna out of the ballroom.

 Point one . . . The first finger of her free hand flicked into the air. . . . does this spell have a weight limit? Because Briannas eight and Lee, as you very well know, is not.

 Whats that supposed to mean?

 It means Lee isnt eight, Zev snapped. Lay off the defensive crapwe all know how you feel . . .

 Heads nodded. You should, like, get a room, Ashley muttered.

 . . . even the thing in the basement knows how you feel.

 Youre like a puppy when he so much as talks to you, Tina told him.

 Sorge nodded. If you have a tail, you wag it.

 Puppy feelings? I do not.

 Zev rolled his eyes. Yeah, you do. Now answer the question.

 Question?

 Oh, yeah; weight limit.

 I dont know. Brianna was the heaviest Ive ever moved.

 Cool. Brianna bent Zevs sunglasses case open until the hinges started to crack.

 And was it easy? Amy demanded.

 Sure.

 She smacked him hard on the back of the head.

 No. Not really.

 So you dont know that you could move Lee. Zev pried his case out of Briannas fingers.

 And Im not going to find out standing here. He was bigger than Amy, not by a lot but bigger. Adam stepped between him and the door. Okay, not bigger than Adam. Get out of my way. Lee needs me!

 He needs you thinking with your head, Amy told him hauling him away from the door. Not your . . .

 Amy! Tinas gesture took in both girls.

 Weiner, Brianna offered calmly.

 Its called a penis. Ashley sneered at her sister. Only babies say . . .

 The lights came up and Karl started to scream.

 Im going for the other lantern, Tony told the now empty pantry. There was resistance as he started to turn. Amy, let go of me. Youre right, it wont help Lee if I go charging to the rescue unprepared, but I cant be a part of any plans right now and itd be stupid to waste the light. After a moment, the resistance disappeared. This isnt a long replay, he said as he walked to the other door, sliding his feet along the floor lest he step on someone. I promise Ill come right back with the lantern.

 And the moment were out of this, he promised himself silently as he closed the pantry door behind him and started to run.Im learning shield spells and lightning bolts. Maybe fireballs. Dont wizards always use fireballs ?

 He couldnt believe his feelings for Lee were that obvious.

 Had Lee noticed?

 Learning the mess-with-the-memory spell was looking better and better.

 He didnt need both of the ballroom doors open, so he whipped out Amys lipstick and began to block the right side. Fortunately, he could open his left hand almost all the way; a raised ridge of skin gave him the necessary symbol etched in white across the flesh of his palm. Finishing the last curve and dot required the final bit of color gouged out of the tube on his little finger. Although his left hand continued to ache, he found he could hold the lipstick against the pressure and the return of manual dexterity banished a fear he hadnt acknowledged.

 Karl stopped screaming just as he opened the blocked half of the ballroom door.

 His experience with this sort of thing was limited, but the tiny orange speck of light over by the bandstand probably meant the lamp was nearly out of fuel.

 Tony. . .

 He had a feeling he should be a little more distracted by ghosts of workmates calling his name while Night and Day played in the background. Hand outstretched. First three words of the incantation . . .

 Tony!

 Lees voice. Distant. Desperate. Afraid. It wrapped around Tonys heart and squeezed.

 Now that was a definite distraction.

 Brenda slamming up against an invisible barrier and screaming jealous curses no more than four inches from his facethat was almost expected.

 I had him! she shrieked, the wound gaping in the translucent ruin of her throat.

 I know.

 He likes girls.

 Yeah,live girls.

 Tony!

 Save me.

 The good of the many, he reminded himself and fought his way back to focus. The lantern slapped into his hand and he almost dropped it. Son of a . . . !

 Was it hot? For a dead wardrobe assistant, all Brendas sarcasm facilities seemed intact. Did you burn yourself?

 Strange; still a third full. Nearly. Thanks for asking.

 Hard to tell for sure, given that she was a gray sketch against the darkness, but she looked confused by his response. I win in the end, you know. Me.

 Youre dead. Not my definition of winning.

 Hell be dead with me. Dancing. Forever.

 What? Lee dies after the things destroyed me? Not so easy as that.

 Easier. Youd let Lee slit your throat or cave in your skull or rip out your heart and never lift a hand to defend yourself because its him.

 The third option, maybe.

 But thats not what it waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaa . . .

 Hartley spun her away from the door. Danced her howling across the ballroom until she faded in the darkness, the ballroom door slamming shut in Tonys face. Slamming shut. He hadnt shut it. Maybe Brendad been about to tell him the secret weakness of the thing in the basement. Maybe shed been about to taunt him with Lees breakfast preferences. Either was as likely in Tonys opinion. Dead or not, Lee was still between them.

 The same way Brenda would always be between him and Lee.

 Except that therewas no him and Lee, for fucks sake, because Lee was straightrandom kissage asideand possessed by the thing in the basement. Thered be no Lee at all if he didnt get the lantern back to the butlers pantry and figure out a way to get him back.

 Glaring down at the lanternresponsible for the delayed rescuehe realized the wick was almost burned away. Two turns of the wheel on the side and he was rewarded by a sudden increase in light. Eyes watering, he made his way back to the pantry.

 Kissage.

 Lee possessed by the thing in the basement.

 Oh, crap, not again . . .

 Aspects of this were becoming frighteningly familiar.

 As he entered the dining room, he caught a glimpse of something moving by the bottom of the door leading to the butlers pantry door.

 Gray. Translucent. And rolling!

 The gardeners head came out from under the table into the circle of light and rolled, wobbling, toward the entrance hall.

 Eyes and ears for the thing in the basement. The only possible reason for it to be therewhere the word reason was stretched to the limit. The head had been eavesdropping on the plan to free Lee .

 Tony got between it and the door.

 It smiled and kept coming.

 It? He? Did a ghost head have gender?

 Not important right now . . .

 I really dont want to do this.

 Not that he had a choice.

 He relicked the pattern onto his left palm and grabbed the head as it went to roll through his legs.

 Zev! Dump your backpack and bring it to me! Yelling helped the pain. Amy! Quick, another lipstick! Although not significantly.

 The pantry door slammed open.

 Tony? What the . . .

 Your backpack . . . Fingers pressing into the gardeners skull, he set the lantern on the dining room table and ran toward Zev. . . . is it empty?

 Zev glanced down at the pack dangling from one hand. Yeah, I ditched . . .

 Tony, here! Amy shoved Zev farther into the dining room and thrust another tube into Tonys free hand. Its Tinas!

 Zip the backpack shut and hold it up! This lipstick was pale pinkeasy to see the symbol against the black fabric and over the black plastic zipper. Easy to tell why Amy had disavowed it. With both Amy and Zev holding the pack steady, he finished the last curve. Open it! Slam-dunked the head into the pack. Close it!

 The sides of the pack bulged, but the symbol held.

 More of the gardener? Amy asked, breathing a little heavily.

 Yeah. Tendrils of pain extended from his hand to his shoulder. I think . . . I think it was spying on you.

 On us?

 Peters question drew Tonys attention to the doorway. It seemed that everyone but Mason, Mouse, and Kate were crammed into the narrow space, watching.

 Yeah, on you. When expressions remained mostly skeptical, he added, Can you think of another reason a head would be hanging around outside the door?

 No one could.

 No surprise.

 Me, I seen better heads, Sorge remarked thoughtfully. More realistic.

 Tony stared at him in astonishment. This headis real!

 The DP shrugged as he turned to go back into the pantry. Maybe its the lighting.

 Weird that theres no weight, Zev murmured as he held the backpack out an arms length from his body.

 Its captured energy, not substance, Amy snorted. She poked the bag with one finger. You know, if people werent dying, this would be so cool.

 Youd think so. Can I put it down?

 Curled around his left arm, Tony nodded more or less toward the table. Sure. Whatever.

 Are you all right?

 Uh . . .

 Let me look. Zev gently pushed Tony up into a more vertical position. His eyes narrowed. That cant be good.

 Tonys hand had curled back in on itself and his lower arm was tight against his upper, tight in turn against his torso.

 How does it feel? Amy asked.

 Like frozen flames are lapping at my skin.

 Ow. Mixed metaphors. Thats gotta hurt.

 Zev laid two fingers against Tonys forearm and snatched them back again almost immediately. Two red marks remained behind for a heartbeat. This is just a suggestion, but I dont think you should grab anything else. This kind of cold is going to do some serious nerve damage if it hasnt already.

 Just tell me it was worth it and that you have a plan.

 Amy picked up the lantern and led the way to the pantry. We have a plan.

 Really?

 No. Weve got nothing. But, she continued as they stepped over the lipstick line and closed the door behind them, I did find out that the thing in the basement has a name. Its A . . .

 Tony slapped his good hand over her mouth. Dont! Names have power. We dont want to . . .

 Attract its attention? she snarled, dragging his hand away. Because I think it knows were here. I mean, ignoring the story thus far with us locked in and three people dead, its sending body parts to spy on us!

 Speaking of body parts; wheres the head? Peter asked.

 In the dining room.

 Is that safe?

 How the hell should I know? Sure. Its contained. Look, you dont have a plan to save Lee, so were going with mine.

 Which is?

 Im charging to the rescue.

 With a useless wing? Amy snorted. Good plan.

 His mouth twisted into something he suspected looked nothing like a smile. Only one we seem to have.

 Tony?

 It took him a moment to place the voicehe was getting just a little too used to ignoring people calling his nameand a moment after that to notice Tina holding out a pair of caplets on the palm of her hand.

 For your arm.

 Thanks. He swallowed them dry then drank half a bottle of water after, just because. Odds were good, theyd do nothing for the pain in his arm but what the hell, they couldnt hurt.

 Theres what? Adam wondered, frowning. A crapload of ghosts in this building, right?

 Given that crapload isnt an exact number, yeah.

 So why is the thing in the basement sending the gardener to mess with us? Hes in friggin pieces.

 Well, its obvious. Mason looked superior as attention turned to him. Hes a servant.

 Tony shook his head. Lucy Lewis is a servant.

 Yes, but shes all tied up.

 The guy she pushed down the stairs . . .

 Maybe the pieces take less energy to control than the whole body, Amy suggested, her eyes gleaming in the lantern light. If the thing in the basement is feeding off the energy of the dead, its going to want to give as little back as possible.

 I was just about to say that. Masons lip curled. He was still wearing Raymond Darks teeth and Tony felt a rush of longing at the sight. If only Henry were here. Inside. Independence be damned, hed give up control to Henry in a minute.

 The heels of Masons shoes thudded against the floor as he lifted his legs and let them drop. Why am I tied up again?

 Youre not, Peter sighed. Youre taped.

 And I find Im getting just a little annoyed about it. He sounded annoyed. He sounded, for the first time in a while, like Mason Reed.

 Her hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tuxedo jacket, Ashley padded across the room and crouched beside him, peering into his face.

 Your father is going to hear about this, he muttered, struggling with the tape around his wrists.

 Ashleys smile lit up the room. Hes back!

 Youre sure?

 She knows, Brianna sighed before her sister could answer. Shes in love. Makes me want to . . .

 Probably puke, Tony thought as Charles started yelling at the top of the stairs. Hurl, upchuck, and ralph also contenders. He slid down the cupboards and sat cross-legged on the floor trying to work some feeling that wasnt pain into his left arm. He had to believe Lee wasnt in any immediate danger. He had to believe it because Amy was rightin a way. It wasnt that he couldnt use his arm; it was more that until it stopped hurting quite so damned much, he couldnt think of anything else. No way could he maintain enough concentration to pull Lee into his hand.

 Inadvertent imagery very nearly made him forget the agony in his arm.

 The lights dimmed and the present crowded back into the butlers pantry, just in time for him to see Mason get to his feet.

 Theres tape debris on my cuff links.

 Ill help. Ashley began picking happily at one sleeve, Mason watching her with anits the least Im entitled to expression.

 A little more disconcerting, considering, was seeing Mouse on his feet, staring through a . . .

 What the hell is Mouse looking through?

 Its the viewfinder off his camera, Amy told him dropping down on the floor beside him. Zev detached it when we were upstairs taking Bri to the can. Isnt it brilliant?

 Isnt what brilliant?

 Zevs idea. You know how cameramen are always walking into war zones with this weird idea that nothing they see through the camera can hurt them?

 Yeah, and then they get shot.

 Sometimes, but thats not the point. The point is, Mouse is a cameraman and now he has a camera to look through, hes completely stabilized.

 He has a viewfinder.

 Amy shrugged. Seems to be enough.

 Since Mouse was coming his way, Tony sure as hell hoped so. Large, bare, hairy knees poked out to either side of him as Mouse squatted.

 We have to talk.

 Now?

 No. When we get out.

 About.

 The big man chewed on a scarred lip. Shadows, he said at last.

 Yeah. Sure. He watched Mouse rise and move away.And if Im really lucky, Ill have to sacrifice myself to free everyone else .

 Im not sure its just the viewfinder, Amy murmured. I think the thing in the basement is pulling back, depossessing. I mean, Mouse seems fine and Masons his usual arrogant nondancing self.

 What about Kate?

 Kate was still taped and gagged.

 Well, we tried releasing Kate, but since there seemed to be a good chance shed try to kill someone, we gave it up as a bad idea.

 Funny that the thing in the basements still holding on to her.

 Yeah . . . Amy picked at a bit of chipped nail polish. Im not so sure we can blame the thing. Shes always been a bit . . . prickly.

 Prickly is hardly homicidal.

 Yeah, true, but now shes motivated.

 Tony . . .

 He pushed himself up onto his feet as Peter approached. Had a feeling he needed to be standing.

 . . . we talked it over while you were ghost walking and decided that if you want to go charging down to rescue Lee, well charge after you. Peters gaze flickered over to Tonys arm and away.

 Okay. Hadnt expected that. Apparently, all he needed to have done to be taken seriously from the beginning was cripple himself. A near concussion and a couple of magical brands were apparently no more than par for the course.

 You look all sappy, Amy sniggered in his ear as Peter continued.

 Not all of us, of course. Tina will stay here to look after the girls . . .

 And Ill be . . . Mason trailed off, cleared his throat, and started again. Shoulders squared. Declarative. Ill be helping her.

 With these girls, shell need the help.

 The almost gratitude in Masons eyes was almost enough to make up for the kick Brianna landed on his shins. Almost.

 And if you phase off again . . . Peter shrugged. Well, we can still hear you, so just keep talking.

 I dont think thatll be a problem. The conservatorys up next and we have the gardeners head in a backpack. Part of the programs missing. It cant reboot.

 Computer metaphor? Zev asked him, grinning.

 Tony grinned back. Best I could do on short notice. Fuck, maybe itwas all about Mason because with him up and about, the mood certainly had changed. They were all working together again. The us defined against Masons them. If the basement had taken Mason instead of Lee, theyd be out of here by now. He managed to move his lower arm about two inches from his upper. His fingernails still looked kind of opalescent, but he could feel his fingers. He kind of wished he couldnt, but the pain breaking up into specific areas was probably a good thing. Okay, then. Lets . . .

 The door leading to the kitchen began to swing open.

 Everyone crowded to the far end of the room. Behind Tony.

 And given the size of the room and the numbers in the crowd, having everyone behind him pushed Tony to within about three feet of the door.

 Sure. Nowyoure all fine with the wizard thing .

 The lantern light extended just far enough to illuminate Lees smiling face.

 No one moved.

 Tonys heart beat so hard the burn on his chest ached in time.

 Lee?

 Might have been Peter. Might have been Adam. Tony wasnt sure.

 Green eyes gleamed. As Lee opened his mouth, Tony answered for him.

 No. Thats not Lee.

 His smile had too many angles. Tony knew Lees smile and this wasnt it.

 The thing in the basement, Lee said mockingly, wants to talk to you.

 No need to be more specific. They all knew who he was referring to.

 Why? Tony demanded.

 I dont know.

 Give it up. For all intents and purposes, youare the thing in the basement.

 Why, so I am. One long-fingered hand brushed back through the fall of dark hair. But I dont want to talk to you in front of an audiencetalk about a tough room. Unfortunately, you refused to be lured, so I had to go with the direct approach. Come downstairs and face me.

 And if I dont?

 Lees hands started to tremble and the velvet voice roughened. Ithink you know the answer to that.

 If you dont go with him, the thing in the basement will hurt Lee!

 Tony sighed. Yeah, Tina, I got it.

 Well, pardon me for wanting to be clear about things, the script supervisor muttered.

 This time the smile was almost Lees.

 Tony looked past him, into the darkness of the kitchen, at the edge of the ceiling over the door, down toward the floor at his feetanywhere but at the smile that almostwasnt Lees. Let me talk it over with the others.

 Why? You know youre going to come with me.

 Lets pretend I have a choice.

 All right. Dark amusement flashed in the depths of the green eyes. Lets pretend. You talk. Ill wait.

 Tony turned, stepped back toward the pack, and motioned for the others to huddle around him.

 If you go down there and the thing in the basement destroys you, what the hell are we supposed to do? Amy demanded.

 Thanks for caring.

 You know what I mean!

 If it destroys me, you stay in here and do anything you have to in order to survive until sunrise.

 Adam shook his head. How do you know itll let us go at sunrise?

 Its traditional.

 In order for a thing to become a tradition, it has to happen more than once, Zev pointed out, dragging Brianna back into the huddle and away from Lee.

 In every movie . . .

 This isnt a movie!

 Tony closed his eyes and counted to three. Look, youll just have to trust me on the sunrise thing. Besides, I think Ill be okay. Brenda implied it didnt want me destroyed.

 Why not?

 She didnt say. Technically, shed only said that the thing in the basement didnt want Lee to destroy him. It could still want to do the nasty itself. Since he was going into the basement regardless, Tony didnt see a lot of point in mentioning that. Does anyone have a mirror? I left Tinas in the ballroom.

 Honestly, Tony, you should be more careful when you borrow something!

 Im sorry.

 Id had that compact for years.

 Its still there; you can get it in the morning.

 Oh, sure. Her nostrils flared. If Isurvive. Well, even if I were willing to lend you another mirror, I dont have one.

 Amy?

 Please. She tucked a strand of black-tipped magenta hair behind her ear. I look this good when I leave the house and it lasts all day.

 After a long moment, Mason sighed and pulled a small silver compact out of his pants pocket. I like to check my touch-ups, he explained as he passed it over.

 You always look wonderful! Ashley gushed up at him.

 He nodded. True.

 All eyes tracked Tony as he slid the compact into his front pocket. He leaned farther into the huddle and murmured, Let the gardeners head out while Im gone. I want to see how the thing in the . . . Screw it, life was too short. . . . thething reacts to a replay.

 Mouse and Mason? Zev asked.

 Glancing over at the actor and the cameraman, he didnt immediately understand Zevs point. Mason ignored him business as usualMouse peered at him through his viewfinder. Oh. Right. The possible return of the crazies. If the replays began again, would the house then feel it could expend the power to repossess? If Mouse and Mason didnt remember how far theyd fallen apart, could they make the decision to risk it again?

 Did he have the right to risk themall of them; a crazy Mouse was a dangerous roommatefor the sake of information that might not be relevant.

 Might be, though.

 No way of telling.

 Tony?

 Ask them first. The good of the many.Yeah, like thatll apply to Mason . He touched the hard ridge of the compact, and straightened.

 So you going, then? Sorge asked.

 Of course hes going, Peter answered. The director reached across the huddle and clasped Tonys forearm. Bring Lee back to us. We cant lose him now; hes pulling in as much fan mail as Mason is.

 More.

 As Mason sputtered, everyone else craned their heads to stare at the thing that was Lee.

 He shrugged. Small room, and Peters voice tends to carry. Are you coming, Tony?

 No, Tony muttered under his breath as he turned, just breathing hard. Ow! He scowled at Amy as he rubbed his bad arm. What the hell was that for?

 So not the time to make jokes!

 Cant think of a better time. Picking one of the lanterns up off the counter, he waved it toward the kitchen. Lets go.

 Dont want to be alone in the dark with me? Lee asked as the pantry door closed behind them.

 Stop it.

 You dont think your attraction to me might have caused me to ask myself a few questions about the way Im living my life?

 Yeah, right, Tony snorted. With one bound, he was up and a gay? I dont think so.

 Perhaps youre selling yourself short.

 Perhaps you should shut the fuck up.

 He could hear the creaking of Lucys rope up on the third floor. Karl crying. The band playing on. Aware of each sound momentarily before it faded to background again.

 The basement door was open. The memory of touching the doorknob spasmed though Tonys left hand and the new pain burned a little of the rigidity out of his arm. Eyes watering, he realized thatno pain, no gain was quite probably the stupidest mantra hed ever heard. And that whole wizard being able to feel power thing truly sucked.

 As he followed Lee down the basement stairs, the lantern light seemed to close around him, as though the darkness was too thick for it to make much of an impression. Old boards creaked under his weight as he hurried to keep up, not wanting to lose sight of the other man.

 The splash as he stepped off onto the concrete floor came as a bit of a surprise. So did the cold water seeping in through his shoes. Apparently Graham Brummel hadnt been kidding about the basement flooding.Great. And the thing knows, because Lee knows, about tossing live wires into the water and making soup .

 Hed half turned back toward the stairs before he realized hed moved. He didnt want to be soup. But then, who did? A rustling from above caught his attention and he lifted the lantern. The light just barely made it to the top of the stairs. The gardeners hand rose up on its wrist and flipped him the finger.

 Looked like they hadnt released the head.

 On the bright side, he could hear neither Karl nor the band. The silence was glorious. Muscles he hadnt realized were tense, relaxed.

 Cold feet, Tony?

 Yeah. Cold and wet.

 Youre perfectly safe. I dont want to hurt you.

 Not Lee, he reminded himself.Also, big fat creepy evil liar . Wrapping his left hand carefully around the handle of the lantern, he slid Masons compact out of his pocket and quietly thumbed it open. He almost pissed himself as Lees hand closed around his elbow.

 Come closer.

 Iwas going to.

 Youre still standing at the foot of the stairs.

 I know! I said I was going to. He took a deep breath, hated the way it shuddered on the exhale, and allowed Lee to pull him forward. The basement smelled of mold and old wood and wet rock.

 He stumbled once on a bit of cracked concrete, but Lees grip kept him on his feet. Hurt like hell, since he was gripping the left arm but better than falling when falling would have extinguished his light. Thanks.

 Like I said, I dont want you hurt.

 I wasnt thanking you.

 Amused. Yes, you were.

 Not amused. Bite me.

 At least the reflection of the lantern light off the water pushed the darkness back a little farther. Enough to see Lee if not the actual basement. Under the circumstances, it didnt exactly help to see Lee, but it was nice to know he wasnt alone. Of course, Lee all by himself wasnt alone. He suppressed most of a totally inappropriate snicker.

 Care to share the joke?

 Its not really very funny.

 The sound of them splashing forward bounced off hard surfaces, nearly but not quite an echo. Made sense; big house, big basement. Tony was pretty sure he could hear water . . . not so much running as dribbling . . . somewhere close.

 So, is there a laundry room down here?

 Yes.

 Wine cellar?

 There is.

 Bathroom?

 No.

 Thats too bad because all this wet is reminding me that I could really use a chance to piss.

 Too bad.

 He snorted. Yeah, well Ive walked through worse, so how are you going to stop me if I just whip out and let er rip?

 Lees grip tightened way past the point of pain. Tonys hand spasmed. The lantern fell. Without releasing his hold, Lee bent and gracefully scooped it out of the air just before it hit the water, straightened, and hung it back over Tonys fingers.

 Teeth so tightly clenched he thought he could hear enamel crack, Tony held the lantern as securely as possible and yanked his arm free. He staggered, would have fallen but slammed up against a stone pillar instead, forgave it for new bruises, and collapsed against its support.Right. Taunting the thing in the basement bad idea.

 Gaining a little more movement in his left handbad trade.

 I dontwant to hurt you.

 Yeah, I get the emphasis. His voice sounded almost normal, which was good because he hadnt totally ruled out screaming as an option. You dont want to, but you will.

 Lee continued walking to where the edge of the light lapped up against a section of the fieldstone foundations then he turned and spread his hands. I have a proposition for you.

 Deja vu all over again. What is it about evil, he wondered aloud, that makes it so damned attracted to my ass?

 The thing raised Lees eyebrows into a painfully familiar expression. Excuse me?

 You, the Shadowlord . . . Is it something Im doing? Because if it is, Ill stop.

 What?

 My ass, Tony sighed. Your interest.

 Understanding. Then disgust. My interest in you has nothing to do with your body or your perverse and deviant behavior.

 Oh. Wait a minute. You shove people off the sanity cliff and then pull aMatrix battery thing on them and Im a deviant?

 What are you babbling about?

 Little trouble keeping up with contemporary culture? Here, Ill translate. You drive people crazy and then you feed off their deaths. You have no business calling me a deviant.

 Homosexuality is against the law of nature.

 Tony felt his lip curl. Youre one to talk; youre a thing in a basement!

 I am a power!

 Yeah, big power. So youve killed a few . . . dozen people. He kicked at the water. Youre still stuck in a flooded fucking basement.

 Lee shuddered and his nose started to bleed.

 Okay, Im sorry. Jerking away from the pillar, Tony took a step toward Lee. Im sure its a very nice basement.

 Enough.

 Right.

 Or I may just kill him now. The shudders grew more violent.

 Would another step closer make it better or worse? I said I was sorry.

 Youll consider my offer?

 Somake an offer.

 I want you to join me.

 Say what?

 With your power added to ours, we could be free.

 Ours? Things in the basement? Plural? Listening for a second presence, Tony remembered the mirror. He glanced down, adjusted it to pick up Lees reflection, saw movement to the actors leftlooked up at a blank fieldstone wall looked down, made another adjustment, and saw something looking back.

 Sort of.

 The wall was in constant movement. Roiling. A description he honestly thought hed never use. Features appeared and disappeared, pushing out from the stone and reabsorbing a moment later. Eyes. Nose. Mouth. It was as if someone with a scary sense of proportion had animated one of those abstract paintings Henry liked so muchwhere the proportions were already a little frightening.

 Youre very quiet.

 Just a little surprised, Tony admitted. When it spoke, the features appeared in the standard arrangement. The mouth even moved although Lee still did the actual talking. Tony couldnt shake the feeling hed seen the face before.

 Why surprised? Ive been helping you. The journal was a tad . . . convenient, wasnt it? I left it there in the library for you.

 Hehad seen the face before. Hed seen it every day theyd been on location hanging against the red-flocked wallpaper over the main stairs.

 Creighton Caulfield? Seemed Graham Brummels theory that Caulfield was the template for the things personality came up just a bit short.

 On the wall, brows connected to nothing in particular drew in as Lee said, Youve only just figured that out?

 Excuse me for being distracted by being trapped in a haunted house with dead peopleincluding, he added, a few that werent dead when the doors closed! He waved the lantern for emphasis since if he moved his other hand, hed lose the reflection in the mirror.

 Caulfield looked a little confused. Well, yes, but . . .

 So Im thinking that if you want me to join you, youd better assume I know nothing and make with the back story.

 The face on the wall couldnt sigh, but Lee could. Did you evenread the journal?

 Tony actually felt his ears grow warm and the water lapped a little higher on his calves as he shuffled his feet. A friends reading it.

 A friend?

 Ill get to it! I just havent had time.

 I left it for you.

 So you said. Best defense, good offense. Im finding that hard to believe since you stuffed it behind that mirror almost a hundred years ago.

 Fine. Lee and the reflection of Caulfield in the tiny mirror snortedalthough only Lee made the actual noise. I left it there for someonelike you. Someone like me.

 Im nothing like you!

 You thought you were the first?

 The first what?

 Heir to ancient power.

 And the anvil dropped.

 Chapter Fifteen

 ?? ?

 SO YOURE a wizard?

 Lee drew himself up to his full height, the movement echoed by an upward surge of the features roiling on the wall. I am nothing so tawdry!

 But you said . . .

 I did not.

 A quick glance down into the mirror showed that Caulfields reflection looked as offended as Lee did. Tony, whod been forced to embrace his inner wizard in a big way over the last few hours, tried not to feel insulted. Whatever. My bad. Although he didnt try too hard.

 Your what?

 Just forget it. Tonys left hand ached, the weight of the lantern pulling his fingers away from his palm and, in turn, his lower arm away from his upper. Probably a good thing in both cases, but the pain was distracting. Unfortunately, if he wanted to keep an eye on the thing Caulfield had become, he couldnt switch the lantern to his other hand as he very much doubted his left hand had recovered enough to manipulate anything as small as Masons touch-up mirror. So if youre not a wizard, what are you?

 We are Arogoth!

 Tony closed his teeth on his initial reaction to the pompous declamationDude, you sound like an alt-rock cover bandbut the snicker slipped out before he could stop it, before he could remind himself of what the consequences would likely be. And whod suffer them.

 Lee went to his knees in the water, features twisted in pain, mouth open in a silent scream.

 Im sorry! He surged forward and, as the collection of powers trapped in the wall surged out toward him, realized that touching the darkness would be a really bad idea. Only one step away from the pillar, he jerked to a stop. Lee remained on his knees, writhing. In the mirror, Caulfields face had disappeared from the roiling darkness leaving nothing but threat. I said I was sorry, damn it! Leave him alone!

 Do not mock me!

 Bright side; if Caulfield wanted to use Lees voice, he had to ease up on the punishment. Ease up. Not stop. It was pretty fucking amazing how much punishment the human body could take and still keep talking.

 I wasnt! Growing frantic, Tony searched for something he could use to reach the other man without putting himself in danger of being absorbed. Im tired, thats all! There was nothing near him but the stone pillar. And nothing on the stone pillar but a nail about head height.Yes . Twisting around, he looped the lanterns wire handle over the nail, spun back, andreached for Lee.

 With his left hand. Nerves shrieked as he spread his fingers. Tony just barely stopped himself from shrieking along with them.

 Fortunately, there wasnt much distance to cover. Fortunate, because although there wasnt exactly a weight limit the heavier the item the more it took out of him and Tony was running near empty. Also fortunate because Lee wasnt an eight-year-old girl and the less time he had to accelerate before impact, the better. Tony hit the water, sucking back a scream as the other man slammed into the burn on his chest. As they fell, his left arm wrapped around Lee holding the actor close.

 So close he could feel Lees heart pounding within the cage of his ribs.

 So close he could smell the faint sweet iron scent of the blood dribbling from Lees nose.

 Was this what Henry felt? So intimately aware of anothers life?

 So desperately needing to protect it.

 He lost his grip on the mirror but somehow managed to keep both their heads above water. Up close and personal, it was numbingly cold. Under the circumstances though, numbing was good. He finally folded his legs and settled Lee on his lap. Snarled, If you kill him, youve lost your leverage.

 Lee went rigid. And not in a good way.

 If you kill him, Ill destroy you, he continued. I dont care who else you throw in my way. I dont care if I have to die to do it. I will take this house apart, brick by brick, and I will wipe you off the face of this Earth.

 A shudder. Then the dark head tipped back against his shoulder and green eyes focused on his face. You mean that.

 I do. And he did. At that moment, hed have thrown the world away to keep Lee safe.How will Lee live with no world ? the more rational part of his brain wondered.

 Shut up.

 Then it seems we may be able to come to an arrangement. And just like that, with a second shudder, all evidence of pain disappeared from Lees face. Release me.

 There didnt seem to be any point in holding on, although it took Tony a moment to convince his arm of that. Or maybe it just hurt too much to move it. Who knew? Eventually freed, Lee bent forward and splashed a handful of water against his face, rinsing the red streaks from his mouth and chin.

 Me, Id have left the blood. Tony braced himself as the other man moved against his lap. You dont know what s pissed in this water. His bladder was giving him some definite ideas in that direction himself.

 No real surprise when Lee . . . or specifically, Caulfield . . . ignored the comment. He probably knew exactly what was in the water and didnt care. It wasnt his body after all. And the bastard had borrowed it without permission.

 Tony pulled his legs back out of the way as Lee stood. As Caulfield walked the body back to stand by the wall, he groped around the floor for the mirror.

 Were you planning on remaining down there?

 His fingers closed around metal and glass. Just need a moment to catch my breath.

 Youre weakening.

 Still got enough going to kick your ass, he muttered as he crawled back to the pillar and used it to get to his feet. So, what kind of an arrangement did you have in mind? You know, with the joining you and all.

 Simple. You join me and I will release your coworkers and the object of your unnatural lust.

 He has a name.

 So?

 Yeah, okay. Probably didnt matter much. I join you in the wall? An eternity of roiling. Hard to resist.

 With you as a part of us, I will be free.

 You said that earlier. Free how?

 Free of this place. Free to go where we will. Free to do as I will.

 Will some of thatdoing involve unnatural acts? He flipped the compact open again, and rubbed the glass against his jeans. Wet denim didnt exactly help clean up the reflection.

 Lees brows drew in disapprovingly. Not the kind you enjoy.

 Duh. I meant that whole murder/suicide thing youve got going upstairs.

 The whole murder/suicide thing, as you put it. . . His lip curled. . . . will be unnecessary. As we will be free to move from this house, I will not need to contain the dead as nourishment.

 But therell be dead? Dying?

 Of course. I will gain power and we will make a place for myself.

 Caulfield seemed to be having a bit of an identity problem. Seemed like he wasnt completely merged with the original darkness. Or after being stuck in a damp basement for almost a hundred years, hed gone completely bugfuck. Oh, wait. Odds were good that being bugfuck was what had brought Creighton Caulfield to the basement in the first place.

 Okay, if . . . Tony stopped as Lees face went blank. He looked down at the mirror and saw that the roiling had progressed to writhing. The darkness had become thicker, nearly obscuring the fieldstone wall completely, and Creighton Caulfield was very nearly defined as a separate presence. It almost seemed as though hed been pushed out of the darkness by its more aggressive movement. His features actually held together as a face on a head over a body, cheeks and shoulders held a faint tint of color and . . . oh man, the old guy was naked. Obviously naked.

 A quick glance over at Lee showed a similar responsealthough less blatant given the generous coverage of a pair of wet tuxedo pants.

 Response to?

 A replay. Had to be. Replays fed the thing in the basement and since it was definitely reacting positively to whatever was going on, Amy and Zev mustve released the head and let the cycle start up again. The memory of pain tried to force Tonys arm back up against his body, but he fought it and won.

 Breathing heavily, sweat burning in the broken blisters on his chest, he studied the image in the mirror. Caulfield arched out from the wall, spine bowed, only hands and feet a part of the darkness. The position looked painful. Given Caulfields reaction, it either wasnt, or that was part of the attraction.

 Its like porn for elderly masochists. And itwouldbe the gardeners replay; its one of the long ones .

 Eyes narrowed, head cocked to one side, Tony could nearly see Caulfield without the mirror. The faintest translucent image of a man bowed out from the wall; easy enough for those who didnt knowwho didnt believeto dismiss it as a trick of the light.

 He returned to the reflection, hoping Caulfield wasn't heading for a big finish because that would put a distinct bend in his sex life for some time to come.

 Unfortunately . . .

 Great. Something to look forward to. Tony sighed silently as Caulfield snapped back into the darkness and began to roil again within it. He could hear that future conversation now.

 Damn, there it goes again. Is it me?

 No, I was just thinking of this evil old guy I saw once . . .

 Of course, if he wanted Lee to survive this, that particular problem was unlikely. A very minor bright side.

 So. Lees arms made a pale band across the black T-shirt as he folded them. Have you made up your mind?

 Seemed that Caulfieldboth on the wall and in Lee planned to ignore what had just happened. Worked for Tony. Forgetting would be harder, but ignoring he could do. If I join you, then Lee and the others walk away?

 Yes.

 He snorted. Like I can trust you.

 As a gesture of good faith, I no longer possess the other actor or the two who use the camera. And besides . . . Lee spread his hands and mirrored the smile that appeared briefly at the surface of the darkness. . . . when you become a part of us, there is a chance you will be able to influence our actions. And his hands crossed over his chest. It is the only way for you to save him.

 Yeah. I got that a while ago. Tony fought the urge to scratch at his blisters. So why does freedom ring after I join in? What difference will I make?

 Unfortunately, I made a slight miscalculation and did not have substance enough on my own to give Arogoth existence independent of this house. Together, we will.

 Youre sure of that? Because a hundred years stuck to a basement wallnot appealing.

 Lees smile twisted into a darker curve. It had its moments. The taste of death is sweet as you will learn. If youd die to preserve this man, think how much better to live forever.

 Forever?

 Yes. As Arogoth, immortal devourer of death! Not even the use of Lees talent could pull that line back from the brink, and Caulfield seemed to realize it. His eyes closed briefly before disappearing into the churning mix of features. Obviously trying to save face, Lee scowled and pointed. Choose.

 What choice? The pain in his arm was constant enough to almost ignore as he reached for the lantern. I have to tell the others what Im doing or theyll be down here trying to pull off some half-assed rescue attempt.

 That is . . . Lee paused and Tony got the impression that Caulfield was shuffling through what he knew about the people who put togetherDarkest Night . Without perspective, they seemed like an insane bunchtwelve-to-seventeen-hour days making a vampire detective believable . . . at least for forty-three minutes at a time. Fine. Tell them.

 Theyll try and talk me out of it. He carefully bent his fingers around the handle and then more carefully still lifted the lantern from the nail. Theyll try and convince me theres a way we can beat you.

 Convince them there isnt.

 Easy for you to say. His gesture with the lantern made shadows dance, made it seem as though the whole basement was roiling. Roiling. He just couldnt get enough of that word. Well, come on, then.

 Come . . . ? Ah. Lee leaned back against the wall. Not the piece of wall where Arogoth was contained and Caulfields features continued to surface but a section of fieldstone empty of everything but a little mold and mildew. I dont think so. This one stays with us while you are gone.

 Tony froze. No, he snarled. He goes with me.

 He stays.

 The hell he does.

 Exactly.

 Bugger. If he stays, how can I be sure you arent hurting him?

 You cant. And I can hurt him while he is with youor have you forgotten already?

 Not something he was likely to forget in a hurry. But if hes with me, Ill know youre hurting him and Ill know youre a lying sack of shit. I want him with me.

 You dont always get what you want. There was nothing of Lee in that smile at all. Best hurry back.

 I dont. . .

 Have much time. No mistaking the threat.

 Lee, if you can hear me, Ill be back for you. Without waiting for a response, Tony spun on one heel and splashed toward the stairs. Although he hated leaving Lee in Caulfields control, hated leaving him in the dark, his protests had more to do with convincing Caulfield to keep his hostage in the basement. Had he not protested, the well,thing still seemed to applythe thing would have grown suspicious about why he didnt want Lee upstairs. Didnt want Lee in a position to be Caulfields eyes and ears.

 When the splashing wasnt quite enough, Tony matched his breathing to the rhythm of the other mans lungs so that he couldnt hear him receding farther and farther away. Shoes and socks squelching, he climbed to the kitchen just in time for Karl to stop crying and the ballrooms replay to begin.

 Just for a moment, he missed the quiet of the basement. If he never heard Night and Day again, it would be way too soon.

 Tony. . .

 Give me a break. Spinning on his heel, spraying dirty water as he turned, he stuck his head back into the stairwell. Hey, you want to tell your ghostly minions that the plans changed. Because the name calling is really fucking annoying!

 Tony. . .

 Oh, right. I forgot. Caulfield was just a little too distracted during replays to respond. Where distracted meant getting his metaphysical rocks off. Pot, kettle, black on that whole unnatural lust thing. Eyes rolling, Tony headed for the kitchen sink. He couldnt connect with anyone alive during the replay anyhow and hereally had to take a leak.

 



 

 The door to the butlers pantry opened as Tony reached for it. Theyd clearly been waiting for him. All eyes were locked on his face as they shuffled back to give him room to enter.

 Youre wet, Mason pointed out, moving fastidiously farther away.

 Basements flooded.

 Chest high?

 There was a bit of sitting, he admitted, sagged against the counter and twisted the top off a bottle of water.

 Wheres Lee? Peter demanded.

 In the basement, still possessed. A long swallow. Creighton Caulfield is a part of the thing.

 So it worked.

 He turned to stare at Amy in confusion. What worked?

 Mouse shuffled back against the far wall as Amy waved the open journal. The last entry. She glanced down and read: I go to become great. I go to become immortal. I go to become . .. the name you wont let me say.

 Well, he hasnt quitebecome , Tony snorted. Not yet anyway. He wants me to join himthemand finish the project, or hell kill Lee. If I join him, you all go free.

 Including Lee?

 So says the thing in the basement. He waited while everyone in the room thought about how easy production assistants were to replace.

 What are you going to do? Tina asked at last.

 Tony took another mouthful of water, swallowed, and shrugged. Save Lee. Save you guys. Save the day.

 Zevs hand closed around his arm. Youre going to join him?

 Not if I can help it.

 You have a plan.

 He smiled wearily at the music director. I got nothing. Amy, he implied that the journal would explain all. What have you got?

 Um, okay . . . She turned a couple of pages. He started out as a collector of the weird. Grave dirt, cat skulls, mummy bits . . . not really unusual for a man of his time.

 How are you knowing that? Sorge asked, his tone more intrigued than suspicious.

 Amy knows her mummy bits, Tony told him. Go on, Amy.

 Anyway, later . . . Why are you squirming?

 Fabric squelched as he flexed his butt muscles against the edge of the counter. Wet underwear.

 Okay, didnt really want to know. The stuff Caulfield collected led to books to look the stuff up in, to verify it, and then he started collecting the books.Then he found a book that convinced him that. . . She bent her head to read again. That there is a world beyond what fools admit. There is power for those who dare take it. There is power here.

 What an idiot, Mason muttered.

 Except he was right, Tony said thoughtfully. All that nasty shit he collected . . .

 Im guessing waxy buildup of evil, Amy agreed. And thats when he started calling in the mediums, trying to contact this power. You know he had a developmentally handicapped son, right?

 Hes in the bathroom, Brianna added, crawling backward out of one of the lower cabinets clutching a silver salad fork.

 Well, one of the mediumsone of the ones who survivedthought that spirits were attracted to those kind of brain waves, so Caulfield started using his son.

 Using?

 Thats all it says.

 I think we can fill in the blanks, Zev growled.

 He never hit him. Brianna patted Zev on the arm. But he was scary. Really, really scary. Except I wouldnt have been scared.

 I dont doubt that for a moment, Zev muttered, taking the salad fork away.

 Tony frowned. It likes fear, strong emotions. There had to be a way he could use that.

 Looks like the fear was enough, Amy continued, because contact was made. Meanwhile, Caulfield had been using his books to research how to hold the power when he found it. Thus the pages of mystic symbols.

 Tony held up his left hand. His palm throbbed and the skin under the pattern itched like crazy. This was what he used to hold the power here in the house.

 Yeah, kind of like a roach motel. Nasty energy checks in, but it doesnt check out. He used a bunch of the other symbols to get it all gathered up in one place. Hes not writing for the ages here, so hes kind of obscure, but I think he believed that the more of it he gathered in one place, the more real it would be.

 Half an inch of water spread over an entire room is harmless, Saleen announced unexpectedly. Put that water in a bucket and you can drown someone.

 Exactly! Amy shot Saleen an approving smile. Caulfield used his own blood to gather this thing up.My heart pounding with anticipation, I opened a vein and dipped in the brush made to the specification in the ancient text. Chanting and breathing the fumes of. . .

 Readers Digestversion, Tony interrupted. I dont have a lot of time and therell be another replay blowing through in a minute.

 Okay, he burned some herbs, lifted some bad poetry out of an old book, painted on the basement wall in blood and all the power scooted there and what was abstract gained enough substance to become . . . stract. Defined. Sort of like catching a demon in a pentagram. Then his son died . . .

 Of what. It might be important.

 It doesnt say.

 He was scared, Brianna offered. Really, really scared. Hes still scared.

 He died of fright?

 She shrugged, dismissing the concept. He was too scared to go away. Thats why hes there.

 Without his son, Caulfield couldnt access the power hed trapped in the basement, so he went looking for a way to draw it into himself. He figured he found one. And then . . .

 Amy held the journal up again. Were back at the last page.I go to become . . .

 Except the stuff he wrote on the wall held him as well as the power and probably thats what kept them from completely merging as well. He thinks that with me added to the mix, well be strong enough to break the spell, merge and emerge, and become that name.

 Sorge rolled his eyes. If it isnt that name yet, why cant we say it?

 We dont want to lend it definition.

 What the hell does that mean when its home? Adam demanded. Then he raised a hand as all eyes turned to him. Never mind. Dont really care.

 With you in the mix, what makes Caulfield think hell be in charge? Peter wondered.

 Hes read the right books and hes had a hundred-odd years to work out what hell do. Im winging it. And Ive used a lot of energy tonight already.

 Brianna poked him in the leg, then held out her other hand. Sugar? Her fingers peeled away from a damp, crumpled paper package.

 Where did you get that? Zev asked plucking the package off her palm and examining it. Tony wondered what he thought it might be. What dangers it might contain.

 From the box with the salt.

 You havent been eating it, have you?

 Duh.

 Maybe that explains why Ashleys asleep . . .

 Covered with Masons coat, her head on Tinas lap, Ashley murmured at the sound of her name but didnt rouse.

 . . . and this ones still bouncing off the walls. He handed the sugar to Tony. Will this help?

 Cant hurt. He ripped it open and poured the sugar into his water bottle. Bri? Can you get the rest of the sugar out of the box?

 She drew herself up and saluted. Im on it!

 The box was by the other door.Sugar rush , he thought as she raced toward it.Use it wisely .

 So hes like physically stuck to the wall? Amy wondered as Brianna raced back with a double handful of packages.

 No. Its more like he took himself down to his component atoms and mixed them with the power hed already trapped on the wall.

 Component atoms? Peter looked hopeful. So theres a scientific explanation for all this?

 Pouring more sugar into the water, Tony wondered what explanation Peter had been listening to. Not a chance. Caulfield was a wizard, although he doesnt like the word. Instead of an Arra, he found the wrong book.

 If theres a book, then there must have been other wizards.

 Yeah, Im not unique. It sucks to be me. He took a swallow of the sugar water, made a face, and took another. The way I see it, I have two options. I join with Caulfield to save you all, hoping that something outside the house will be able to stop our combined power before it destroys the mainland and kills everyone living on it. And everyone unliving on it. Caulfield didnt know about Henry now, but he would the moment Tony joined up. Everyone means you lot as well, he added.

 So if you go join up now, Tina said thoughtfully, youre not really saving us, just delaying the inevitable.

 Yeah. He took another swallow. Sucks to be you, too.

 And the second option? Zev prodded.

 We destroy Caulfield. We remove the writing on the wall. We disperse the power.

 Amy closed the journal. You mean destroy the power.

 I mean disperse. You cant destroy energy, you can only change it. He glanced around the room. There were half a dozen degrees in here; one of them had to have been in something useful. Right?

 Hes right, Saleen answered. Pavin nodded agreement.

 Lets hear it for tech support.

 Great. So how do you destroy Caulfield? Amy asked. Snatch him away from the power?

 Hes not in this reality anymore. I cant touch him.

 Use the flypaper on your hand to grab him.

 Flypaper?

 She shrugged. Roach motel, flypaper; amounts to the same thing.

 Tony glanced down at the mark and thought of how much it would hurt to snatch up a handful of Creighton Caulfield. Good thing his pants were already wet. I cant. If I get too close, hell pull me in.

 So you need something out of this reality that can destroy him from a distance? When he nodded, Amy snorted. Good luck.

 You have an idea, Zev said softly, eyes locked on Tonys face. But you dont like it much.

 Flexing his left hand, Tony grinned at his ex. I dont like it at all. But I think itll work.

 All right. Peters tone suggested he was bringing up a point that theyd all missed. How do you destroy Caulfield without him hurting Lee?

 Im going to need a little help with that.

 Were here for you, Amy declared. Most heads nodded.

 Not from you guys, he said as the drawing room replay began and he was alone in the pantry with that damned plate of tea cakes. Im playing a wild card. Because they could still hear him, he explained.

 . . . the paints buried in our gear in the library, he finished as the lantern light came up again. So its going to have to be dug out.

 Saleen, Pavin . . . Peter jerked his head toward the door. Take the other lantern, get the paint.

 On it!

 Theyll need to pull energy from something, Tony said as the door closed. Someone.

 Amy raised her hand and waved it. I volunteer!

 No one looked surprised.

 It might be dangerous.

 Please. Her grin widened. Danger is my middle name.

 I thought your middle name was . . .

 And unless you want your email address written on the wall of every virtual truck stop on the Web, youll hold that thought.

 Whats your plan for removing the writing on the wall? Tina asked before Tonyd entirely decided that would be a bad thing.

 Dont have one exactly. He shrugged. But theres a lot of water down there.

 No. Tina shook her head. Water wont work. Not on ancient bloodstains. Trust me on this; I have two sons who grew up playing rugby.

 The cleaner. All eyes turned to Sorge. The cleaner we use to clean off the blood on the walls in the upstairs bathroom. During the scenes the girls do! he expanded when no one seemed to get it. We splash the walls with the fake blood, but we have to clean it off again. The cleaner, she is guarantee to cut through anything. Old. New. Fake. Real. There are six different warning on the label about the contents.

 And you sprayed that around the girls? Zev asked him, visibly appalled.

 Sorge looked affronted. Not me. I dont clean locations, I design fantastic scenes that are ignored during award times. But there is a spray bottle also with the gear in the library.

 Sounds like itll work. Thanks, Bri. Tony accepted another bottle of sugared water from the girl and frowned. Crap. I wont be able to spray the wall.

 Peter rolled his eyes. And why not?

 Hes not sure hell survive destroying Caulfield.

 Attention flicked from Zevwho stood arms foldedto Tony, who was looking pretty much anywhere but at Zev.

 Is that true? Peter asked him.

 I should survive. Another long swallow helped him ignore Zevs expression. I just wont be in any condition to do much else, so someone needs to be available to haul my ass out of the water.

 Me.

 Surprised, Tony glanced over at Mouse. Thought of the last time the big mans hands had been on him. Banished the thought. You sure youre okay?

 The cameraman shot a wary glance at the journal and nodded. And Lee?

 Yeah, hell likely need to be hauled as well.

 Adam stepped forward. Thatll be me, then.

 Good. Okay, now for the spray . . .

 Hello! Amy waved her hand.

 No. Mouse and Adam can charge in after the fact, but whoever is spraying is going to have to be with me. Close to the thing. If we dont do this at the same time, Im not positive that one half of that thing cant heal the other. Besides, youve already got something to do.

 Her lower lip went out. Well, yeah, but Ill be done by then.

 You might also be unconscious.

 She perked up at the thought. There is that.

 Me.

 Youre . . .

 Peter folded his arms. In charge. Im there to see that the thing keeps its half of the bargain and lets my costar go.

 I dont know . . .

 I do. Zev moved closer to Tony. It should be me.

 Zev, Peters plan might . . .

 We have history. Ive come with you to say good-bye. Caulfields a product of his time as well as his ambition; first of all, two men are going to throw him off and second, hes not going to consider another fag to be a danger to him. Youre going to need all the edge you can get.

 Actually, yeah. He sighed. Did it make him a bad person if hed rather have Peter in danger than Zev or just a good friend? We could throw Caulfield a bit off his game. But the bottle . . .

 Will be duct taped to his back. Mason included them all in his smile. Episode eight. That asshole who tried to stake me in my own office had the stake duct taped to his back.

 Oh, for the love of God, Mason . . . Peter paused, reconsidered, and started again. Mason, that didnt work.

 Because I saw the reflection of the stake in the mirror. There are no mirrors in the basement and that thing sure as hell isnt Raymond Dark.

 All Zev would have to do was walk across the basement by his side. He wouldnt have to turn. He wouldnt ever expose his back. Tony swallowed more sugar water. Damn. That might just work.

 Dont tell the writers, Peter muttered. Tina snickered, then stroked Ashleys hair as she stirred.

 One problem. Mouse scowled at no one in particular. No duct tape.

 No duct tape? Well, that was practically unCanadian. The electrical . . .

 No. Sorge shook his head. If we wrap electrical tape so it holds a bottle, Zev wont be able to get it off.

 You need duct tape? Why dont you use some of mine?

 Positions shifted until everyone could stare down at Kate sitting propped and taped against a lower cabinet.

 You chewed through another gag? Amy sounded impressed.

 Please. She spit a bit of damp fabric to one side. My boyfriend is a terrible cook; Ive eaten worse and smiled while I did it.

 Two napkins down, Tony had no doubt that shed eaten anything set in front of her. The smiling part was giving him a little trouble, though. Used duct tape . . .

 Kate snorted. Will work fine. Itll peel off itself just like it does off the roll. Youll lose the layer thats against me, but thats all. And stop bloody worrying, she snapped as no one stepped forward. Sitting around with our thumbs up our collective butts while people get possessed and other people die makes me kind of cranky, but Im fine now. We have a plan.

 You still sound cranky, Tina pointed out.

 Always sounds cranky, Mouse grunted.

 Yeah, yeah, she muttered as he pulled open his pocketknife and knelt by her feet. Bite me, you big rodent. One more thing, though. The tapes not going to stick to fabric. Itll have to be attached to . . .

 Mouse pulled the final layer of tape off skin.

 . . . son of a fucking bitch! . . . Zev.

 Zev looked understandably less than thrilled. If its under my shirt, how will I reach it?

 Well have to cut the back of your shirt away. Tina . . .

 Tina pulled a pair of nail scissors out of her purse and handed them up to Amy who advanced on the music directors shirt with a gleam in her eyes.

 And then well tape down the edges of your shirt so it doesnt flap and then we tape the bottle to you.

 Is a big bottle, Sorge observed with a grin. Why dont you just stuff the bottom down the back of his pants?

 Amy paused in her advance, glared at the DP, and handed Tina back the scissors. Well, arent you just a big bunch of no fun at all.

 The door leading to the dining room opened. Saleen came in first carrying the paint followed by Pavin with the lantern. We got it.

 Great. Peter smiled approvingly at them. Set it down and go back for a spray bottle of cleaner.

 We didnt see any spray bottles.

 Its in there. Sorge walked the length of the butlers pantry and paused with his hand on the door. Come. Ill go with you.

 Pavin held out the lantern. Why dont you go by yourself?

 I dont want to. Come on. Varamous.

 Thats not French, Saleen muttered as he set the can of paint on the counter and turned to follow Sorge and the sound tech out of the room.

 Me, Im a man of many talents, the DP said as the door closed.

 Tony drained the last of the sugar water and slid off the counter. Okay. Open the paint can and then put it outside the door in the kitchen. Amy, wait by the can. When the guys get back with the cleaner, Zev and Adam and Mouse get ready to meet me by the basement door. Wait until you hear me coming down the back stairs and then move. Delays will be . . . He could feel sweat dribbling down his sides. . . . not good. Make sure the spray bottle is on a tight, hard spray all we have to do is cut through the blood pattern, break it up. We dont have to completely erase it. The rest of you . . . If this goes completely to hell, the pattern on the floor will keep anything from coming in; youll have the laptop and the candles for light and all you have to do is stick it out until morning.

 What if Caulfield sucks you in? Amy asked.

 You die and I spend eternity as part of a three for one that even our writers would consider over the top, where the other two parts are a hundred-year-old naked homophobe and evil waxy buildup.

 Amys smile came nowhere near her eyes. Dead sounds better.

 Yeah, no shit.

 



 

 Tony went upstairs while Lucy Lewis killed her coworker and waited by the second-floor bathroom while she hanged herself. When the only light on the floor came from the lantern in his hand and Karl started crying again, he went into the room.

 Cassie? Stephen?

 He didnt know where theyd been for the lastimpossible to tell exactly how long since hed seen them, without a watch and only the very subjective replays to determine the passage of time, but it had been a while.

 Guys? I need to talk to you. Its important.

 Nothing. Big white empty bathroom.

 He sighed and crossed to the mirror. Not so empty anymore. Not so white. The mirror showed Cassie and Stephen sitting on the edge of the tub and the walls covered in splashes and sprays and dribbles of blood. Too much blood for a double murder? Even considering that head wounds bled like crazy? Maybe every replay left its mark. And wasnt that depressing.

 Guys, I can see your reflection. I know youre there.

 They were looking at him. But only in the mirror. Cassie looked sad. Stephen stubborn.

 Fine.

 The thing in the basement wants me to join it, and its holding Lee hostage to make me. I think we can beat it if one of you two helps me to save Lee.

 Cassie glanced away. Stephen lifted his sisters hand off his leg and wound their fingers together. He couldnt have said Mine. more obviously if hed said it out loud.

 Tony counted time by his heartbeat. He had to convince them before the next replay started. Before their replay started.

 If I cant save Lee . . . Try again. If Lee dies, I die with him. You guys are dead. You have to admit that alive is better. Together and alive. Because, him and me, we wont be together if were dead. Yeah. That was articulatenot! Entirely possible all that sugar water had been a bad idea as he couldnt seem to maintain a coherent thought. Time to pull the big guns. Time to use the magic word . . .

 Please.

 If we help you, itll know we have more than the existence it allows us.

 He turned. Cassie sat alone on the tub, the fingers of her right hand, the fingers wrapped around her brothers hand, fading into nothing. Her single eye locked on his face, willing him to understand.

 If it knows were awake and aware . . .

 Itll kill us again. Stephen was there now. Itll take away the little bit of life we have. Is that what you want? Because were dead, we dont count for as much as the living?

 Yes.

 No.

 Damn.

 If youre dead, then what you have isnt life, is it?

 Stephens eyes narrowed and when he rose, he looked menacing for the first time that night. Get out.

 Remembering what a glancing touch against his shoulder had felt like, Tony backed toward the door both hands raised. Im sorry!

 Not good enough. Then he jerked to a stop, his head dislodging.

 Cassie stood, still holding her brothers hand, his arm stretched tautly between them. Hes right, Stephen. What we have isnt life.

 All right, not life. He settled his head. But we have each other and we cant risk losing that.I cant risk losing that! Can you?

 We dont know that we will. But if we dont help, we know that Lee will die?

 Shed made it a question. Tony answered with a nod. It hasnt noticed you yet, right?

 Because weve been staying in our place. Stephen spat the words at him. Here. Together.

 You were walking around earlier and it didnt notice you.

 Before it was awake!

 And after.

 We were lucky. We can feel it. We can tell that its awake. It has to be able to do the same.

 Why?

 Stephen frowned. What?

 Why does it have to be able to do what you can do? It cant move around, you can. It cant communicate without possessing someones ass, you can.

 How does it communicate with someones ass?

 Tonys turn to frown. Thats not what I meant, I meant. . .

 What do you want us to do? Cassie interrupted.

 Free hand holding his head in place, Stephen whirled to face her. Cassie!

 She shrugged, broken sundress strap swaying with the motion. Im just asking.

 I need you to draw this symbol. . . Tony held up his left hand, palm out, and both ghosts leaned away. Oh, shit, you cant, can you?

 I dont think . . . Her single brow drew in. It pushes at us. What is it?

 Its complicated. Its kind of a protection. A protection against the things power, but youre a part of that power.

 Only while were dying. She studied the symbol. Butthis it would definitely notice. And if we had anything to do with it, it would notice us.

 Told you, Stephen grunted.

 Cassie glanced over at him, her expression unreadable, then turned back to Tony. The symbol would protect Lee from the thing? Keep it from hurting him?

 It should.

 Should?

 Should. No chance of a rehearsal. We have to go live and hope it works, but that doesnt matter because you cant. He slammed his fist into his thigh. Shit! Fuck! Damn it!

 You want this done with the paint, like before? Right? When Tony nodded, the sudden rush of hope making it impossible to speak, Cassie nodded with him. I like Lee. Hes cute.

 Its dangerous. Stephen almost wailed the word, and the skin on Tonys arms pebbled into goose bumps.

 Its a little paint, Cassie argued. Its no more than what I did this morning. Where is Lee?

 In the basement.

 Are you insane!

 The door will be open, he told them quickly before Stephen could continue. So youll be able to go downstairs. Theres an open can of paint in the kitchen and you can suck energy out of Amy to use it. You dont need much right? Just for a little symbol like this. She says its okay. Actually, shes looking forward to it. He was almost babbling but couldnt seem to stop. And the shit wont hit the fan until the next replay after yours, so first you get the paint then you wait until Karl stops crying then you flick the symbol onto Lee just before Karl starts screaming and then, as Karls replay starts, you get sucked back here . . . He tapped the wall. . . . to safety.

 No. Releasing Cassies hand, Stephen folded his arms. Not in the basement. No way.

 But . . .

 I said, no!

 Tony . . .

 He looked past Stephen to Cassie.

 . . . go away. I need to talk to my brother.

 Yeah. That would work. Cassie wanted to help, he could see that, and Cassie was the only person, living or dead, Stephen would be willing to listen to. Except . . . He paused in the doorway. How will I know?

 Her expression said,trust me . The shrug that went with it, not so confident.

 



 

 Stephen . . .

 No.

 If we dont help, Lee will die.

 And if we do help, what happens to us?

 If we each stroke on half of the symbol, maybe nothing. But maybe something. And thats good because nothing has happened to us since we died. Were as trapped now as we were before Graham woke us. Except now we know it.

 But . . .He started to shake his head, remembered, and caught her hands in his instead. I cant lose you. I cant. When she sat back on the edge of the tub, he sank to the floor and buried his face in her skirt. I cant. I wont. And theres more!

 She freed a hand and stroked his cheek. More?

 Have you thought of what happens to us if Tony destroys it? What happens to us if were not trapped here anymore?

 We move on.

 He lifted his head then. Where? Because, you know, there was sinning.

 The corners of her mouth trembled up into a smile. I remember.

 So, Im thinking were better off here. His smile suggested hed found definitive reasoning.

 Maybe if we save Lee, the sinning wont count for as much. And if we dont save him . . . Her fingers remembered the soft silk of Stephens hair. If we dont save him and Tony still destroys the malevolence, well, that wont look good for us if we move on. Given the sinning and all.

 No.

 She sighed. Or she thought she sighed; her fingers, it seemed, had a better memory than her lungs. Im going to help Tony. So if we do move on . . .

 No.

 But that no was less definite. And hed stopped smiling.

 



 

 Waiting outside the bathroom door, Tony flicked open his pocketknife. His left hand had only just regained enough strength to grip it while he poked the point of the blade into the tip of his right index finger.

 Heres irony for you . . .

 Caulfield seemed to think the answers Tony needed in order to understand the metaphysics of the situation were in the journal. The journal told them that Caulfield had used his own blood to trap the accumulated power against the basement wall. After folding the knife and slipping it back into his pocket, Tony pressed his thumb against the ball of his finger, just under the cut, and squeezed out a steady supply of blood as he painted over the symbol on his left palm.

 Hed only just finished, cut finger in his mouth, when Karl stopped crying.

 Quiet on the set.

 Action . . .

 Chapter Sixteen

 ?? ?

 MR. MILLS STAGGERED back as the ax came free and screamed, You cant hide from me!

 Tony didnt watch as Cassie and Stephen came out into the hall and then ran, hand in hand, for the bathroom. He knew he wasnt seeing them alive, that their reality was a nearly severed neck and three-quarters of a head, but to see them appear alive, to see their last few moments and to know theyd be trapped replaying those moments over and over well, it was fucking tragic, thats what it was.

 It was supposed to stop with death. Maybe there was a judgment, maybe there wasntTony had seen enough weird shit he was unwilling to commitbut the point was: end of something, start of something else. Cassie and Stephen didnt end, didnt start, didnt do anything but sort of exist. And maybe thatsort of was better than risking the alternative, but Tony didnt think so.

 Maybe he should just stop thinking about it. Hed had his chance to convince them.

 He winced. Twice. Ax into flesh. Ax into bone. Funny that the impact of the axan impact that wasnt particularly loudmade more of an impression than the screaming. Actually, Karl had pretty much desensitized him to screaming. Karl, and before Karl, Aerosmith.

 Splattered with the blood of his children, Mr. Mills turned and walked out of the bathroom. Once in the hall, he looked down at the bloody ax as though hed never seen it before, as though he had no idea whose brains and hair were stuck along its length, then he adjusted his grip and slammed the blade down between his own eyes.

 Tony took a step forward as the body fell, held out his left hand, his own blood glistening on his palm, and he reached. Energy never went away and bottom line, the ghosts were captured energy.

 Line below the bottom line, this was really going to hurt.

 But he couldnt think of another way.

 It was all a matter of manipulating energy. Any and all types of energy if Arras notes could be trusted. It was, in the end, what separated the wizards from the boys. Or maybe, more accurately, those who were willing to risk losing the use of an arm from those whod come up with a less debilitating solution. And, man, hed sure like to talk to that other guy . . .

 The ax slapped against his hand as the lights dimmed. His fingers didnt so much close as spasm around the handle.Well, whatever works . When the replay ended, he couldnt see the ax, but he sure as hell could feel it.

 The pain was . . .

 Definitively pain.

 The kind of pain that, should he actually survive this, hed compare to every other pain for the rest of his life.

 You thinkthathurts? I once pulled a ghost ax out of its time and walked through a haunted house with it .

 Except he wasnt exactly walking. Or doing anything but trying to suck enough air into his lungs to stay conscious.

 Come on, feet, move!

 A deeper breath. And then another.

 A guy can get used to anything in time.

 Yeah, but he didnt have time. Or not much of it anyway. He had to be in place in the basement before the next replay started.

 Okay, dont think about the basement. Think about one step. Just one.

 One step didnt hurt any more than standing still. Neither did two or three.

 Now just get to the back stairs. Straight hall. Easy trip.

 He could do that. Hell, hed once walked to Wellesley Hospital in February with two broken ribs, a fat lip, and only one shoe. To this day, he had no idea where his other shoed gone.

 Now down the stairs. This should be easy, gravitys on your side.

 Wait.

 He needed a test. Some way of making sure that the energy he held continued to act like an ax. Itd be piss useless if it didnt.

 Instead of down, he went up. And gravity was a bitch.

 Lucys rope had crossed the lower edge of the third floor just slightly off center. The stairs were so steep he could reach the lower edge of the third floor from four steps up. If he could reach it from four, he wasnt going for five. No point being stupid about this. Sucking in a lungful of air, he willed his arm to work and swung the ax.

 He felt the blade cut into the wood.

 Felt the burn of a severed rope whistle past his cheek.

 Felt dead weight just for an instant roll against his legs.

 Staggered back down the four steps, panting; small quick breaths that didnt hurt quite so much.

 Heard a voice destroyed by a noose murmur, Thank you.

 And felt a lot better.

 For just a moment, he had the strong feeling it was 1906 and he was a chambermaid, but since that was a huge improvement on what he had been feelingpain, pain, and, well, painhe could cope. He still felt as though his left arm had been dipped in acid and then rolled in hot sand, but whatever Lucy was doingLucy being the only chambermaid he knew from 1906it gave him a little distance from the feeling. It got him down the stairs and across the kitchen to where Mouse and Adam and Zev waited with the second lantern.

 When he joined them, the double circle of light expanded to include Amy sitting cross-legged just outside the butlers pantry by an open can of white paint. She shook her head at his silent question.

 It took them a while to recover from their own murder.

 There was still time.

 Come on, Zev.

 As the music director came forward, Tony grinned. Is that a bottle of cleaner in your pants or are you just happy to see me?

 Adam rolled his eyes and handed Mouse five bucks as Zev reached back and touched the bottle crammed into the top of his jeans. What about us? the 1AD asked. When do we charge to the rescue?

 Youll know, Tony told him.

 You sure?

 Itll be obvious.

 Obvious how?

 Im thinking, screaming.

 Yeah. Adam forced a hand back through thick hair, standing it up in sweaty spikes. Listen, if this things been around for so long, what makes you think we can beat it?

 Time for the big, last minute motivational speech.

 Duh. Were the good guys. Zev, can you get the door. My hands are full.

 Lantern in one hand. Ax in the other. Of course, no one could see the ax. Zev made a clear decision not to ask and opened the basement door. He frowned as Tony stepped over the threshold. Whats that on your cheek?

 Rope burn.

 Do I want to know?

 I doubt it. He shifted over as Zev joined him on the top step. Stay to my right, by the lantern. And remember, he added as they began to descend, anything Lee can hear, it can . . . Fuck!

 Lees face appeared in the darkness at the bottom of the stairs looking for an instant like it was on its own, floating unattached. I was beginning to think you werent coming back to us.

 Tony shrugged and tried to pretend he wasnt carrying an invisible ghost ax. Lucky break that LeeCaulfieldcouldnt see it either. He hadnt been one hundred percent certain about that, but given the total lack of reaction, it seemedno one could see it. I told you it would take a while to convince them.

 But convince them of what; thats the question. Hello, Zev.

 Lee.

 Not Lee, Tony growled.

 Close enough. The green eyes narrowed, pupils dark pinpricks in the direct glare of the lantern. Why are you here, Zev?

 The odds are good that you . . . your body . . . will need a little help leaving after Tony does his thing. He waved a hand, the gesture managing to encompass all the possibilities inherent in the wordthing . And besides . . . His eyes narrowed in turn. I had no intention of allowing Tony to go through this alone.

 So youre here to hold his hand?

 Im here to hold anything that might make it easier for him.

 Lee fastidiously brushed a bit of muck off his dress pants. The depth to which moral rot has penetrated this age astounds me. Perversions accepted as normal behavior.

 Tony turned just enough to grin at Zev. You never said anything about perversions.

 I didnt want to get your hopes up. He shrugged philosophically. There may not be time.

 Fair enough.

 Stay with him, then, if you must, Lee snarled.And be the first to fall !

 That had to be some of the loudest subtext Tonyd ever heard and, given the volume of the subtext over the course of the night, that was saying something. You go first. He motioned with the lantern. I want you out where I can see you so that I know youre not mucking about with Lees body.

 I do not muck about!

 Muck about, torture. Potato, potahto. Move.

 Lee pointedly turned and began wading across the basement.

 Since when do you quote Gershwin? Zev murmured as they descended into the water.

 Sometimes I like to embrace the stereotype. The water felt warmer than it had. Tony really hoped that was because his legs were already wet.

 Gilbert and Sullivan?

 Not in a million years.

 Thats a pretty halfhearted embrace, then.

 I gotta be me.

 The thing seemed closer to the stairs than it had been, but, as it was a part of the foundation, Tony was fairly certain it hadnt moved. As Lee took up his old place by the wall, Tony realized that with both hands full, the mirror in his pocket was about as useful as last weeksTV Guide .

 Hand the lantern to your friend . . . The final word dripped with distaste. . . . then come forward and merge with us.

 Dude, you make it sound so dirty. He motioned for Zev to step back, splashed closer to the pillar and hung the lantern on the nail. Less likely to take damage if I leave it here.

 Dude? Lees lip curled. Your speech patterns are strange.

 Youll have time to get used to them. He never thought hed miss the sound of Karls crying. Or rather the sound of Karl not crying to mark the beginning of the next replay. They had to fill the time and they had to fill it in such a way that they didnt seem to be stalling. He stepped in front of Zev and leaned in. So, I guess this is good-bye.

 A faint smile within the bracket of the dark beard as Zev silently agreed to take one for the team.

 Give one?

 Whatever. . .

 Physical incompatibility hadnot been the reason theyd broken up. Tony finally had to pull back from the kiss lest he miss the next replay entirely. Also, he needed to leave a few brain cells functioning.

 Lees lip had been curled before, but it had enough lift in it now to give Raymond Dark a run for his money. Perversions!

 Protesting too much? Zev looked smug.

 He doesnt want you. Lees voice, Caulfields disgust.

 I thinkhe means me, Tony murmured.

 Yeah, I got that.

 Caulfield spread Lees arms. He wants this!

 Zev snorted. Who doesnt?

 That seemed to throw him for a moment. He settled for you!

 Duh.

 Hey! Tony palmed the mirror under the cover of his protest. I didnt settle! I didnt! he repeated as neither Caulfield nor Zev seemed to believe him. He could only hope Lee wouldnt remember any part of being possessed. Wanting something does not keep you from being content with something else. I like hot dogs, but Im happy with . . .

 Blintzes?

 Dont start.

 He had the mirror now. Was that a flicker of gray on the edge of the lamplight? Two translucent figures waiting for their cue? Or was it hope and nothing more? I want Lee standing over here with Zev before I come to you.

 Fine. The actor took a step forward, away from the wall. Room enough behind him for a ghost to do a little finger painting.

 Or a pair of ghosts.

 Lee took another step, shuddered, and stopped.

 Good luck. Rough rasp of a voice in his head and the sudden return of pain as Lucy Lewis snapped back to the stairwell, to her place during the replay.

 Tony checked the reflection in the mirror . . .

 Eyes in the roiling black bulged out toward him.

 Then formed a face. And a head. And a body. Caulfield defined.

 And without the mirror?

 The faintest hint of a pink and naked shape arcing out from the wall.

 No way of knowing if Lee was protected.

 No way of knowing if Lee was about to die.

 Even if they managed to delay Caulfield until the next replay, hed never be able to hold onto the ax.

 Now or never.

 Never.

 Now.

 Teeth clenched, Tony stumbled closer to the wall, somehow got his arm raised over his head, and put everything he had left into snapping the ax forward, not so much releasing it at the right moment as forcing his fingers to straighten and hoping momentum would do the rest. The ax became visible as it embedded itself in Creighton Caulfields head.

 Lee screamed.

 They hadnt . . . He wasnt . . .

 Tony splashed toward him. Didnt seem to be getting anywhere. Streams of cleanser were going by awfully high.

 Oh, wait, Im on my knees.

 He didnt remember falling.

 His left hand hurt up his arm, across his shoulders and chest, and all the way down to his right hip. Waves. Of. Burning. Pain. The gardeners arm and head had both been smaller and hed held them for a lot less time. Lucys presence had masked the damage, allowed him to get this far, but hadnt stopped it from happening. Water was cool. Water would help. He started to topple forward.

 Wait.

 That wasnt Lee screaming. Tony forced his eyes to focus. Lee was also on his knees, staring into the water like he couldnt believe what he saw, lower lip caught between his teeth and dripping blood. But he wasnt screaming.

 So who was?

 Right. Naked writhing guy with ax in head. Eyes wide in the streams of darkness running down his face Caulfield pulled an arm free and grabbed for the ax handle. His fingers passed through the shaft.

 His other arm came free on its own. Spat free.

 Then his feet.

 Seemed that the accumulated power wasnt too happy about having been trapped.

 Tony scrambled backward as a decomposing body dropped face first into the water. Bobbed up. Rolled over. Head split open, no sign of the ax.

 He screamed as hands grabbed his shoulders.

 Its me. No mistaking Mouses voice or size.

 Right, the cavalry.

 Lets move it, people, I think that walls going to blow!

 Adams voice.

 Lee? Tony twisted as Mouse lifted him out of the water.

 Mouse shifted his grip, the pressure making a strong nonverbal argument that squirming would not be tolerated. Puking.

 Puking was good. At least hethought puking was good. Alive?

 They were climbing the stairs. The big guy could really motor when he had to.

 The dead dont puke.

 Didnt some freelancer pitch that title for episode nine?

 No.

 Tony was fairly certain that hed been kidding, but when he started to explain that to Mouse, he found himself passing out instead.

 



 

 Something just happened. Henry stepped out onto the front path and frowned at the front of the house.

 Graham joined him, rubbing at the rain running down his neck and under the collar of his overalls. Yeah, I felt it, too.

 Felt what? CB demanded. His tolerance for obscurity had never been high and what little there was had clearly already been used. Is it over?

 Vampire and medium exchanged a glance. Finally, Graham shrugged. Unfortunately, theres only the one way to find out and youre still fucked up from the last time.

 Henrys eyes narrowed. Im fine.

 You usually got those big purple bruises around your eyes? Nope. Thought not. And you keep rubbing your temples when you think no ones looking. Bet its been a while since you had a headache.

 Henry snarled softly.

 Long while. So its up to me. He scrubbed his palms against his thighs, walked up the path, reached out, and touched the edge of the porch.

 Flash of red light.

 And he was lying at Henrys feet. Are you all right?

 Im fine, he muttered as he put his hand in Henrys and was set upright again. Its not over.

 Whats not over?

 The three men turned slowly.

 Jack Elson stood in the driveway at the edge of the light.

 Cop? Graham asked quietly.

 Cop, Henry replied at the same volume.

 CB drew in a deep obvious breath and let it out slowly before meeting the advancing RCMP officer halfway. My night shoot is not over. Can I help you with something, Constable Elson?

 No, not really. I was just driving by and I saw some cars were still parked out on the road, so I thought Id come in and find out if there was a problem.

 I see. And included in those two words, was the certain knowledge, shared by everyone who heard them, that Deer Lake Road didnt actually go anywhere, which made just driving by . . . unlikely.

 Not as many cars as there were.

 We dont need as large a crew at night.

 Elson smiled in a hail-fellow-well-met kind of way that set Henrys teeth on edge. His father used to smile like that. I assume your permits for a night shoot are in order?

 Weve been shooting at this location all week, CB told him.

 But not at night.

 No, not at night.

 So your permits?

 Are inside.

 There was an undercurrent of warning in the producers voice that Elson ignored.

 All right. His smile broadened. Lets go take a look.

 The doors have swollen shut in the damp.

 Blinking rain off pale lashes, Elson shot Graham an incredulous glare before turning his attention back to CB. Damp?

 Yes. Damp. My people are working on getting out.

 Theres no lights.

 Constable Danvers. CB nodded as a second figure appeared in the drivewaynodded politely enough but with an edge of impatience in the movement.

 Elson turned to scowl at his partner. What are you doing here?

 I could ask you the same question. She shrugged and stepped up beside him. But I wont. After all that research you did, I had a feeling you werent heading home.

 So you followed me?

 I didnt have to follow you, Jack. I knew where you were going. Therere too many unanswered questions here for you to stay away.

 Research?

 Both constables turned to face the producer.

 Thereve been a number of unusual occurrences in this house over the years, Danvers told him, ignoring the signals her partner was shooting her. After speaking with Tony Foster this afternoon, Constable Elson took a look at our records and found a list of murder/suicides as long as your arm. She paused, dropped her gaze to the arm in question and amended, Well, as long as my arm anyway. Funny how these sorts of things start piling up in one place.

 Yes. Funny. CB didnt sound particularly amused. So youre not here to check our permits.

 It wasnt a question, but Elson answered it anyway, lips curved into a tight smile. Might as well look since were here.

 I get the strong impression youre here off duty.

 The Horsemen are never off duty. Danvers glanced over at Henry as though somehow aware he was the only one of the four who knew about the blood rising in her cheeks. Heard the line in an old movie once; Ive always wanted to say it.

 Yeah, now youve said it, Elson sighed. What do you mean therere no lights?

 What?

 When you arrived, dogging my heels, having not followed me, anticipating my interest . . .

 A raised brow cut off the list.

 . . . you said there were no lights.

 Oh. Right. Therere no lights on in the house. One hand gestured gracefully toward the building. If theyre in there, shooting, why is it so dark?

 Because weve been shooting day for night and the windows are covered in blackout curtains. CBs words emerged clipped of everything but bare fact. If Henry had to guess, hed say that at the end of a long night of waiting and worrying about his daughters, CB was beginning to get angry. Too practical to lose his temper at the house, fate had just given him a pair of targets. Given that the last time Henryd seen CB angry hed lifted a grown man by the throat and thrown him across a soundstage, it might be a good idea to intervene.

 Blackout curtains? Okay. And youve probably got an explanation for that flash of red light that knocked . . . Elson paused, the question in his stare unmistakable.

 Graham Brummel, the caretaker muttered.

 . . . Mr. Brummel here five feet back onto his ass?

 The fabric of CBs trench coat rippled as he settled his shoulders. You saw that?

  Fraid so.

 The faintest growl and Henry was there, left hand wrapped around CBs right wrist, holding the big mans arm to his side.

 I saw it, too. From the driveway. Danvers eyes locked on the muscles straining under CBs coat, the movement obvious even in the darkness.

 What the hell is going on here? Elson demanded, his attention having snapped instinctively to the greater threat. You were there. Now youre here. No one can move that fast.

 Henry kept his smile just to the safe side of dangerous. Obviously, since I did, someone can. Im very fit. Feeling the pressure against his grip ease, he let his fingers slide off CBs heated skin. Holding Constable Elsons suspicious gaze, his eyes darkened. I suspect what happened to Mr. Brummell was a result of weather. Weve had a fair bit of lightning and old houses like this can acquire quite the buildup of static electricity.

 Static electricity? The suspicion began to fade slightly. Yeah, I guess that could . . .

 What a load. Danvers attention flicked from CB to Henry and back to CB again. Im thinking that either one of these cables you guys are running in from your truck here isnt properly grounded and youve created a hazardous environmentin direct violation of any number of workplace safety regulationsand thats whats screwed up the doors, or the house is haunted, has grabbed your people . . . One slim finger jabbed toward a broad chest. . . . including your daughterswho we saw entering the house this afternoon which is why youve lost your vaunted cool, and that red flash was the house keeping youall of youthe hell out. Were you not listening when I said weve done the research? Why dont you tell us whats really going on.

 Vaunted cool? Elson muttered.

 Not now, Jack.

 I think youre confused, Constable Danvers. CBs voice had returned to its usual masterful tones. My studio is shooting a haunted house episode in this building. The house, therefore, is haunted because I choose it to be.

 Uh-huh. She rocked back on her heels, eyes narrowed. And the murder/suicides?

 Not in this episode.

 Not inany episode. Emphasis dared him to deny he knew about the incident she referred to.

 Ah. Youre referring to the unfortunate deaths of Mrs. Kranby and her infant son?

 And the others. In the thirties, a number of people were killed during a dance. During her time in the house, Mrs. Kranby heard dance music. In the fifties, Christopher Mills killed his two children and himself with an ax. Mrs. Kranby was terrified of a man with an ax that no one else ever saw.

 So youre saying that during her postpartum depression, Mrs. Kranby thought the house was haunted because of its unfortunate past?

 No, thats not what shes saying. Elson, whod been staring at his partner in disbelief, moved to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder. Shes saying were going to stick around until those doors open.

 Hauntings arent against the law, Graham pointed out, folding his arms and moving up the path to fall in at Henrys right.

 No one said they were. But, since were here and since its our job to know what the hell is going on, I think well stay.

 Youre wasting your time.

 Its our time. Eyes narrowed, Elsons expression dared all three men to try and run them off. When no one took the dare, he flashed them a triumphant grin. Now, if you dont mind, just so were dotting the is and crossing the ts, Im going to go try to open that door.

 You saw what happened to Mr. Brummell.

 I did.

 CB stepped out of the way. Then be my guest.

 Graham tried and failed to hide a smirk as the pair of RCMP constables walked past.

 A moment later, he tried and failed to hide a snicker as light flared red and Constable Elson swore, stumbled back, sat, and squashed an overgrown plant by the side of the path.

 Didnt go far, he murmured as Henry moved up beside him.

 I suspect that paranormal ability affects the amount of force usedgot a lot, go far. None at all . . . He nodded at the constable. . . . dont.

 Yeah, but CB made some distance when he got zapped earlier.

 CB is a law unto himself.

 Graham glanced back at the producer still standing by the end of the path somehow managing to dominate a scene that involved a haunted house, a shocked police officer, a medium, and a vampire and nodded. I hear you. Satisfied? he asked as the two constables passed again going the other way.

 Elson glared at him but turned a less readable expression on Henry. Static electricity, eh?

 Its an explanation.

 Not a good one. He took Constable Danvers arm and headed for the driveway. Well be waiting over here if you need us for . . . anything.

 



 

 Go ahead. Say it. Tell me Ive lost my mind.

 Rubbing the back of his neck in the hope of getting the hair to lie down, Jack stared up at the dark silhouette of the house. I wish I could.

 Geetha ignored the house and watched him. Youre glad I said it because you couldnt.

 Not glad. His mouth twisted into and out of half a smile. Iknow theres something going on with these people. There was something going on last spring and theres something going on now. Something that isnt . . . His hands sketched words in the air.

 Normal?

 Close enough. And, although Id rather youd spoken to me before you info dumped on them, Ill hold my opinion on your mental stateand my ownuntil after those doors open. Folding his arms, Jack nodded toward the cluster of men on the front path. Or until they tell us whats really going on.

 Is that why were over here? So they can talk amongst themselves?

 They were close enough to the edge of the light she could see the glint of a pale eyebrow rising. Yeah. Thats one of the reasons.

 And he wanted her away from them before she said anything else that might make it look like RCMP Constable Jack Elson believed in something other than crime and punishment, but she was too tired to take the bait. The greasy ones right, though. If the houseis haunted, thats not a crime.

 Granted.

 So why are we here?

 We? Why are you here?

 Because you are.

 Right. He rubbed the hand that had been in contact with the house against his sleeve. I like to . . . I mean, I need to . . . Were supposed to . . .

 Know?

 Im betting that Tony Foster is in the thick of it.

 Of what, Jack?

 Yeah, thats the question. He sighed, unfolded his arms, and folded them again the other way. I hate it when I know theressomething and I dont know what it is.

 She turned and stared at the three silhouettes on the path. Bet you we could find something if we ran Graham Brummel.

 Sucker bet.

 



 

 A few misdemeanors, thats all. Nothing big. Oh, and a fraud charge down in Seattle that got tossed. Graham exhaled loudly. Never take financial tips from a dead guy. A quick glance at Henry. No offense.

 As, technically, Im not dead; none taken.

 What? Youre not dead? I thought you guys, you know . . . He stuck out his tongue and let his head fall to one side. Before Henry could respond to an image unlike that of any unanimated death hed ever seen, Graham jerked his head upright and said, Wait, I shouldve tried this before. I just look at you on the spirit level . . . His eyes unfocused.

 Holy shit. Skin blanched gray, he snapped back to the here and now. Youre . . .

 Henry smiled.

 Mr. Fitzroy is not our problem, CB growled. Graham started at the sound and stuffed trembling hands deep into his overall pockets. Our two overly diligent police officers are. His attention landed on Henry. Can you take their memories?

 Wipe them out like Arra did? Henry shook his head. No. Even . . . He shot a glance at the caretaker. . . . fucked up as I am, I could make them forget me, but theyd remember terror and darkness and the night and given that theyre police officers and trained to both notice and investigate things like that and because theyre already looking beyond the obviouswhich is rare even for the policeI cant guarantee it would hold. Unless I took them both to bedwhich I suspect would cause Constable Elson more trouble than anything else he might discover.

 Together or separately?

 A slow pivot on one heel. Pardon?

 Graham shrugged, clearly wishing hed kept his mouth shut and just as clearly unable to stop himself. Would you take them to bed . . . you know, together or separately.

 Now, Im offended.

 Sorry.

 When that door opens, CB said pointedly, there will be at least one body, maybe more. There will be an investigation. Can Tony use Arras information to erase the memories of the people inside the house?

 I very much doubt it. Since, as far as Henry knew, Tonys one sure spell involved retrieving snack food without rising from the couch, erasing multiple memories would very likely be beyond him.

 So theyll know about his abilities and during the investigation . . .

 Henry nodded. Itll come up. Especially if its his abilities that get them out of the house.

 Hell either be the next amazing fucking Kreskin, Graham sighed, and his lifell be hell, or hell be stuffed in a loony bin. Trust me on this, he added when Henry and CB turned, frowning. The worlds not kind to the psychically abled. They tend to read the psychic as psycho, if you know what I mean.

 Unfortunately, yes.

 Fortunately, yes, Henry corrected deliberately. I think were looking at this the wrong way. He waved the other two quiet and began to build the ending as though he were building the final chapter in one of his books. When the doors openat sunrise, if not beforeyour people will come out of the house claiming its haunted. That they saw ghosts. That they were under an attack by a malevolent thing in the basement. They wont be able to prove any of it, though, and the general public will think theyre nuts. And given that theyre television people, they wont get the benefit of the doubt. Everyone knows television people are slightly crazy.

 Is this true? CB wondered.

 Graham nodded. Common knowledge around Hollywood North, thats for damned sure.

 Now then, put hallucinating television people in a house with a history of gas leaks and what do you have?

 Probable cause of crazy. What? Graham demanded as eyebrows raised. I watch a lot ofLaw and Order .

 Who doesnt? CB wearily asked the night. Suppose my people say nothing at all about hauntings or ghosts or things in the basement? Suppose they collectively agree on a more plausible story?

 It wont matter; even if they could agree on a storyand most groups that size cant agree on where to have lunch theres no way theyll all be able to maintain it throughout a police investigation.

 The truth will out?

 And not be believed.

 His next question was less rhetorical. Did we not use a gas leak to explain what happened at the studio last spring?

 Theres a reason its a classic, Henry reminded him. And Im guessinggiven that the police know the other deaths in this house were murder/suicidesthat the actual cause of your wardrobe assistants death will be obvious. People were trapped in a house. They all went a little crazy. Someone went a lot crazy and killed someone else.

 And that someone is probably dead, too, Graham added. If the house stays to the same MO.

 So the actual crime committed becomes an open and shut case. Why did they go crazy? Henry spread his hands. Not our problem. What exactly caused the doors to jam shut? Also not our problem. One of the people trapped did amazing magical things? But weve already established that they all went a little crazy, so no one can be considered a reliable witness.

 But these two . . . Graham nodded toward the driveway. . . . think something is up.

 And its one thing to tell us what they think is going on and another thing entirely to put it in an official document. Theyre not stupid, theyve proven that already. If they find out what actually happened, who can they tell? Not only is there no empirical proof, theres no way to get it.

 Whoa. What about you? Youre walking, talking, empirical proof, eh?

 They dont know about me.

 Graham snorted. Youre standing right there. As Henrys eyes darkened again, he backed up a step. Oh. Right. They dontknow about you. And no one who does is going to say anything. Not a word. Lips are sealed. Hey, I talk to the dead; who am I to point fingers, right?

 Right. The masks were back in place. The smile held only the faintest hint of warning. Given that theres been a death, the sooner the police are involved, the better our people . . . CBs people except for Tony. . . . your people . . . look. And given that these particular police are already somewhat sympathetic to the situation . . .

 Sympathetic? CB growled.

 To the situation, Henry repeated. And if they do mention anything about hauntings, well, theres no faster way for anything else they say to lose credibility with the powers that be. A quick glance at the house. The judicial powers that be.

 Yeah and what about the press? Graham demanded. Friggin tabloidsll be all over something like this.

 Henry glanced up at CB, one eyebrow cocked.

 After a moment, CB smiled. Of course. Given the right slant, this may even provideDarkest Night with a bonanza of free publicity. May even jump our ratings. If theres a chance that ghosts are real, why not vampires?

 You might want to go easy with that.

 Of course.

 Chapter Seventeen

 ??

 TONY REGAINED consciousness slowly, pulled out of a comforting darkness by the suspicion that while he was gone, people had been sticking red hot needles into the left side of his body. When he forced his eyes open, Briannas face swam into focus.

 Hes awake! she yelled without turning her head.

 Amys face appeared almost immediately behind her. You okay?

 Maybe. You?

 I didnt even go out. She sounded disappointed. I just got woozy. Define maybe.

 Define okay.

 Not about to kick it.

 Fair enough. Not sure, he told her in turn. Help me sit up.

 Relying on Amy and Briannas help, he ended up slumped against familiar lower cabinets. Still in the butlers pantry, then. Not good. Expressions on the half circle of faces staring down at him seemed to support that conclusion.

 The doors are still locked. The voice of doom from above.

 He blinked up at Peter. It didnt work?

 Worked, Mouse told him before Peter could say anything more. Caulfields rotting. The walls clean. Cleaner, he amended, clearly remembering he was speaking of a field-stone foundation.

 Peters lips were thin, white lines. But the doors are still locked.

 Okay. Tony managed to raise his right hand. Let me think about this. Caulfields gone . . .

 Mouse shot a hard look at Peter and nodded.

 . . . the symbols that held the accumulated power to that specific spot on the basement wall are gone . . . Lee!

 Lees fine, Zev told him, handing him a bottle of water. All right, hes not exactly fine, but hes back. Hes himself. Tina and Mason and Ashley are . . . dealing with him.

 Comforting. Zev had been going to say comforting, but changed it to dealing at the last moment. Tony could see another pair of legs in dark trousers tucked in behind Mason, but he couldnt see Lee. He wasnt sure he wanted to see Lee as long as he knew Lee was fine. Back. Himself.

 Lee is not your concern, Peter interrupted his train of thought, looking thoroughly pissed. Your job is to figure out why the hell the doors are still locked!

 Right. He could do that. It would keep him from thinking about Lee. Stalling for time while he got things straight in his head, he took a swallow of water and almost spat it out. Zev had dumped sugar into it. Okay, he muttered, shooting his ex athanks for the warning glare. The power was cohesive down there for a long time. Maybe it stayed together even without the symbolsmaybe it chose to stay together. It was definitely a separate thing from Caulfield, so maybe it had a kind of consciousness. It could go wandering off through the city, but its choosing to stay as a part of this house.

 Why?

 The lights came up. The band played Night and Day. In the ballroom, the dead danced.

 Because the house is feeding it, Tony sighed, knowing that although they couldnt see him, they could still hear him. The ghosts are still trapped.

 



 

 If its not trying to add us to the collection anymore, then we just sit tight and wait it out. Peter glared at Mason and Mouse who did their best to look sane. Kate glared back. It cant be that long until sunrise.

 Probably not. Not knowing was making Tony a little edgy. Edgier. Was Henry still outside?

 Theyre not our responsibility; theyve been dead for years.

 It took Tony a moment to realize just whothey were and switch back over to the problems inside the house. After four-hundred-and-fifty-odd yearssome of these later ones, very oddHenry knew enough to get out of the sun. Brenda and Hartley and Tom are trapped, too.

 You know, we only have your word for that.

 And mine. Brianna folded her arms, every line of her body daring Peter to argue. I danced with her.

 Fine. He sighed impatiently. Brenda, Hartley, and Tom are trapped, too.

 And Karls still crying. I can hear him.

 As Brianna pressed up against Tonys side, he felt something crumple in his pocket. The photograph of Karl and his mother. I can hear him, too. He pulled the photo out and handed it to Amy. Multiple drinkings in icy water hadnt improved its condition any, but it was still painfully obvious who it. . . they were.

 So we have to free the ghosts. Amy left theduh silent but obvious as she passed the picture to Peter.

 He studied it for a moment, looked up, realized everyone was waiting on his word, and sighed again. Fine. We free the ghosts. His gaze locked on Tonys. What do we do?

 I dont know.

 You dont know? Peter repeated and threw up his hands. Great. Doesanyone know?

 No one seemed to.

 Tony glanced down at the top of Briannas head, and frowned. According to the journal, Caulfield used his son, Richard, to connect with the power and Richard is haunting the master suite bathroom.

 Are you going somewhere with this, Tony, Amy asked, peering into his face, or are you just reiterating random bits of information?

 He doesnt replay. All the other ghosts replay, he continued as the expressions he could see ranged the short distance from puzzled to confused. Even Stephen and Cassie keep getting sucked back into the loop of their death although theyre aware the rest of the time. Richard doesnt. And hes always there. Even Mason was aware of him.

 Hey. The qualifier got the actors attention. What do you mean,even Mason?

 He means youre generally considered too smart to get mixed up in any supernatural nonsense, Peter interjected smoothly.

 Oh.

 Amy reached out and poked him in the leg. Get to the point, Tony.

 Richard Caulfield is the key.

 A moment of contemplative silence.

 Then Adam asked what they were all wondering. The key to what?

 To freeing the ghosts, starving the thing, and getting us the hell out of Dodge.

 Peter took the photograph from Amy. The way he was staring at it made Tony realize he probably had kids of his own. For a long moment, the distant sobs of a dead baby were the only sounds in the butlers pantry. Finally, Peter shoved the photograph into Tonys hand and jerked his head toward the door. So, what are you waiting for? Go turn your key.

 Right. Because, of course, it was his job to be the hero. Theyd already established that. His left hand and everything attached to it was pretty much unusable with only minimal movement in the fingersand his entire arm felt as though someone had peeled all the skin off before seasoning it liberally with chopped jalapenos, but, wizard or not, he was just a PA and crap jobs landed like sediment down there at the bottom of the totem pole. Standing hurt. Hell, breathing hurt. He was working his way up to feeling really remarkably sorry for himself when a high-pitched voice slammed the door on his pity party.

 Im coming with you.

 Bri.

 She looked up at him and said very slowly and very pointedly, Hes not scared ofme .

 But hed been terrified of his father and Tony was a man. Younger, thinner, and with more piercings, but still. . .

 Okay. Sure. He expected Tina to protest, but she was still too busy mothering Lee to even notice. Can you carry the lantern?

 She can, but she probably shouldnt. Zev picked the lantern up off the counter just before Briannas hand connected. Ill come along, too.

 So will I.

 No. Peter physically put himself in Amys path. Caulfield might be gone, but this house remains dangerous. The fewer people we have wandering around, the better.

 Amy jabbed a finger toward Brianna. No fair! Shes the boss daughter and youre letting her wander around! Her mouth closed with a sudden snap. That sounded about six, didnt it?

 Tony and Zev nodded in unison.

 Briannas going because the boy isnt afraid of her. Tonys going because this is his show . . .

 Oh. Well, that sounded significantly better thanTonys going because we dont want to endanger anyone more significant .

 Stop being such a whiny ass, he told himself.

 But my arm hurts.

 Deal with it. Youre still the only one who can do this.

 . . . and Zevs going because Tony looks like shit and Im not sure he can make it up the stairs without help, Peter continued. You . . . He jabbed a finger toward Amy.. . . are not going. Were all going to sit here and stay out of Tonys way. The last thing he needs on his plate right now is another rescue.

 Shoulders slumped. Amy shoved her hands into her pants pockets. Fine. Whatever.

 So, go! Peter waved at the door and Tony, whod been staring at him in astonishment, shuffled forward, feeling good about being appreciated. Feeling good being a relative term and nothing twelve hours of sleep and a kilo of painkillers couldnt fix.

 Cassie and Stephen were waiting in the dining room, held out of the butlers pantry by the line of lipstick symbols on the floor. As Zev pulled the door closed, they rushed forward looking . . . looking as happy as Tonyd ever seen dead people look. Well, except for Henry who was really more undead than dead.

 It worked! Stephen spun around them faster than mortally possible. I wrote half and Cassie wrote half. We put it up between his shoulders and it worked!

 Tony hid a smile. Stephen sounded as though the plan had been his idea from the start.Teenagers . He thanked them after he explained to Zev and Brianna that they were there. No more talking to empty air. You saved Lee. Im sure of it.

 No problem. And the thing is gone. Theres a whole different feeling in the house now. Different even from when it was asleep. Its still . . . I mean theres stillsomething , but it isnt aware anymore. Were more aware than it is. And were still us. He took hold of his sisters hands and spun her around. Stopped, settled his head, and grinned. At her. As though she was the only person in his worldwhich, technically, Tony supposed she was. Were still here. Together. Only the bad stuff has changed. And you look awful.

 Yeah. You should see it from this side.

 Cassie seemed happy, laughed with her brother, allowed him to spin her around, but, for the first time, seemed the more reserved of the two.

 Youre still replaying, Tony reminded him as they left the dining room.

 True. But were used to that. Stephen dismissed his reoccurring death with a jaunty smack on his sisters ass. She shot him a look Tony couldnt translate. Once youre gone and theres no people in the house, itll happen less and less and then what remains of the thing will probably go to sleep again and well be left alone. Not completely alone, because Graham will be here, but left alone. No one bothering us.

 You dont mind being dead?

 Hey, I guess Im used to that, too.

 Where are you three going? Cassie asked as they reached the stairs. And the way she asked told Tony why she hadnt joined her brothers slightly manic celebration. She knew it wasnt over.

 To talk to Creighton Caulfields son. Cassie wants to know where were going, he explained to Zev, grabbing the back of Briannas pinafore with his good hand. Were staying together, he told her as she glared up at him. That means no running off.

 So walk faster!

 The ghosts floated backward in front of them, up the stairs.

 Stephen snorted. Why do you want to talk to Richard? Hes not exactly a sparkling conversationalist.

 Creighton Caulfield was a part of the thing in the basement. Tonys arm hurt all the way down to his legs. Both legs. And his feet. And all ten toes. Caulfields dead.

 Yeah, we know. We helped, remember. So youre what, off to offer Richard your condolences?

 The stairs were killing him. No.

 Then why? Stephen demanded, impatient with anything getting in the way of his good mood.

 Cassie smoothed down her skirt, her fingers carefully arranging each gather. Hes why were here. She seemed to be confirming something shed known for a while even if shed only just realized shed known it.

 One hand holding his head in place, Stephen spun around toward her. What are you talking about?

 Creighton Caulfields son, Richard, is why were still here. They . . . A chill breeze as she gestured. . . . are going to talk to him about usabout all of usmoving on.

 NO!

 Tony froze. Zev and Brianna went up one more step, half turned, and stopped as well. They might have started back toward him, Tony wasnt sure. His eyes were locked on the ghost. Stephen . . .

 We helped you!

 It was like the scene in Scrooges rooms inA Christmas Carol when Marleys ghost shrieked, and suddenly the slightly comical dead guy looked a lot more dangerous.

 We risked everything to help you and now youre doing this? I knew it! Youre trying to destroy us! Hands outstretched, fingers crooking into translucent claws, Stephen dove toward him.

 Tony didnt know if he was going for his throat or about to drive his hands into his chest and squeeze his heartboth classic ghost-goes-in-for-the-kill possibilitiesbut he did discover that under the right conditionslike, oh, threat of imminent death by severely pissed ghosthis left arm moved. Hurt like hell, but it moved. He smacked his branded palm into the side of Stephens head, flinging him across the entrance hall. Tried to blink away the fireworks exploding inside his own skull, then positioned himself in front of the other two as Stephen came shrieking back.

 Cassie was there first.

 Its over, she said softly. We had each other for so much longer than we should have, but its over.

 NO! When he tried to go around, she blocked him again.

 She glanced back at Tony over her shoulder, her face at such an angle that she looked whole and beautiful. Go on. I wont let him stop you.

 Whats happening? Brianna demanded.

 Stephens pissed. Cassies keeping him from hurting us. Tony grabbed Briannas free hand and motioned for Zev to start moving again. We have to get there before the next replay, he explained as they half dragged her up the stairs between them. The sooner we finish this the better.

 But its you and me against everyone else! Stephens protests followed them up to the second floorlost, disbelieving, and painfully young. You and me, Cass! Itcant be over! We did what he wanted! Why is he doing this to us?

 Hes doing this for us. Its time to move on to someplace better.

 You dont know what youre talking about! Get out of my way, I have to stop . . .

 As the door to Masons dressing room closed and cut off the argument, Tony hoped Cassie was right. He could be sending them to hell for all he knew. Did he have the right to choose for them?

 They chose when they agreed to help in the basement, Zev said quietly. They decided to risk moving on no matter what might happen to them.

 How did you . . .

 He smiled and shook his head. When you feel something stronglylike, say, guiltits all over your face.

 Brianna nodded agreement.

 Not just when Im thinking about Lee?

 All the time.

 Well, thats . . . embarrassing.

 Zev nodded. Most of the time, yeah. Come on. He held the lantern up and led the way to the bathroom, pausing on the threshold to let Brianna push past.

 Tony stopped beside him and peered into the small room. Where is he? He squinted along the line of Briannas pointing finger. There was something . . . something too big for the space between the toilet and the corner shower unit. A shape. A shadow. No. Gone.

 You really cant see him? Zev murmured.

 I really cant. Then, Can you see him?

 No. Its just that Brianna can and you can see everything else, so . . . The music director shrugged. Seems strange.

 As compared to what?

 Good point.

 He could hear a snuffling sound, but he couldnt see . . .

 Stop seeing the bathroom.

 What?

 Squatting by the shower in the boneless way of small children and elderly Asian men, Brianna rolled her eyes. Stop seeing the bathroom, she repeated.

 He took a step into the room. How do I do that?

 The look she shot him suggested he was stupider than shed ever suspected. Pretend its not there.

 Right. Sure. He could play lets pretend. Lets pretend he didnt still wake up aching for the feel of teeth meeting through his skin. Lets pretend Lee had kissed him in the butlers pantry because hed wanted to, not because of some weird mix of guilt and being possessed. Lets pretend that the something between the toilet and the tub had plenty of room because neither toilet nor tub were there.

 Actually, he sucked at lets pretend.

 Tony?

 And he didnt want to know what was showing on his face. A raised hand to answer Zevs question and another step into the room. No toilet. No shower. Focus on the something between them. Just the something.

 He might suck at lets pretend, but he aced obsession.

 Brianna was talking to Caulfields son, so Caulfields son was obviously there . . .

 . . . sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of a big old wardrobe that filled the corner where the shower . . .

 The scene wavered.

 . . . that filled the far corner of the dingy room. The walls were gray, the floor some kind of early industrial tile, and if hed had a cigarette, the smell would have reminded him of nights spent crouched in doorways on the Yonge Street strip. Hard to forget the smell of old urine walked on by expensive shoes.

 Blond, blue-eyed, and somewhere between twelve and twenty, Richard Caulfield had Downs syndrome. Tony was no expert, but hed known people with Downs syndrome and this didnt look like it was that severe a case. Certainly not lock-the-kid-in-a-room severe. Still, in a hundred years he supposed the definition of severe changed and, not to forget, hed already determined that Creighton Caulfield was bugfuck. Evil and bugfuck.

 Bare feet peeking out from under a white-and-blue-striped nightshirt, Richard hugged his knees, rocked, and cried. Every now and then, he wiped his nose on the fabric stretched over his knees. That explained the snuffling sound.

 Brianna, crouched in front of him, was telling him about what had been happening down in the butlers pantry. . . . and like Ashes keeps falling asleep because shes a total loser until Mason, hes the actor I told you about, he stopped being a spaz and they untied him and then she was all over him again and the real creepy bit is that he seems to like it now.

 Ashleys adoration would act like an anchor, redefining Masons unpossessed self. Mouse had his viewfinder. Mason had a fan. Kate had her temper. And Lee, whod been through so much more, Lee probably had a whole lot of therapy to look forward to.

 Get down. Briannas voice cut through his reflections. Youre too tall and you scare him.

 So Tony crouched. Hey, Richard.

 Richard tried to push back farther into the space.

 Its okay. He held out his hand, expecting Richard to cringe away, not expecting a grab that flipped stubby fingers through his with no contact. The wail of despair brought tears to his own eyes.

 Whats wrong? Brianna demanded.

 Tony wasnt sure if she was asking him or Richard, but he answered anyway. Hes lonely. Hes been alone up here for a long time. Resting one knee on the floor, he glanced down at the throbbing pattern on his left palm, cupped his left elbow with his right hand, and lifted. The fingers of his left hand brushed the warm, damp skin of Richards cheek, trailed down, and were suddenly clutched so tightly that he literally saw stars.

 Easy, he gasped. Richard seemed to understand. The pressure eased off a bit. Most of the stars faded. Good. Thank you.

 Ank ou.

 Hey, you can talk!

 Risherd Cawfud.

 Thats your name! Brianna punched Tony. Thats his name!

 No hit!

 To Tonys surprise she looked abashed at Richards protest. Sorry.

 Sokay. Richard . . .

 Risherd Cawfud.

 Right. Richard . . .

 Risherd Cawfud.

 Okay. Rewrite and try again. You dont need to be afraid anymore.

 New tears. And a tighter grip.

 OW!

 Richard cringed back but continued to cling to Tonys hand. Shurry. Shurry! No hit!

 Brianna understood immediately. Tonys not going to hit you! Her voice lowered to a near growl, and Tony was, once again, reminded of her father. No one is ever going to hit you again!

 And like her father, it was impossible not to believe her.

 Not hit?

 Never again! Tony . . .

 No hit, Tony agreed as reassuringly as the pain allowed. Come on. He started to stand and thanked any gods that might be listening when Richard scrambled up onto his feet with him. Its time to go.

 Go where? Brianna asked as Richard wiped his nose on the back of Tonys hand and stared trustingly at them both.

 Good question.

 Where did the dead go? Questions of religion aside.

 A snail trail of snot glistened on the back of Tonys hand.

 Glistened.

 Im an idiot.

 Where did the dead always go?

 Go into the light.

 Clichemuch, Brianna muttered.

 Richard looked worried. No leave room.

 You dont have to. When Tony smiled, Richard smiled with him. All you have to do is walk into the light. Its right here. Its been here all along. He stepped closer to Brianna so that Richard could look past him.

 His eyes widened and his smile with it. Light.

 Yeah.

 The one thing all the replays had in common was light. Hed thought, while it was happening, that it was just the difference between the small circle of light thrown by the lantern or the candles or his monitor and the gas or electric lights of the past. In his own defense, while it was happening, hed had other things on his mind. But the light had been exactly the same for all the replays. Richard didnt replay, but the light was exactly the same in his room.

 Wiping his nose one more time, Richard shuffled forward. Tony moved with him, teeth clenched, trying not to scream as the movement pulled his arm out away from his body. As he turned, pivoting to follow, the light grew until there was only light and Richard Caulfield silhouetted in front of it.

 It was like the worlds cheesiest special effect. All it needed was that Czechoslovakian womens choir that seemed to be wailing in harmony on every sound track recorded in the last twenty years.

 The extended dance version of Night and Day just didnt have the same effect.

 Tony could only see Richard, but he could feel the crowd passing by. As they brushed against his injured arm, falling to his knees and screaming was starting to feel more and more like a good idea. Richard held him in place.

 There might have been voices and some of the touching might have gotten a bit personal, but he couldnt be sure over the distraction of his arm.

 Distraction.

 Yeah. When distraction meant constant bone-grinding, blood-boiling agony. He wanted to snatch his hand away, but he couldnt. After so many years alone in this room, it had to be Richards choice.

 The outside edges of the light started to close in. A gentle tug.

 Come with.

 I cant. A harder tug that should have hurt more than it did. Its all right. You wont be alone. You wont ever be alone again unless you want to be. But you have to go into the light.

 Risherd Cawfud.

 Tony managed a smile. Ill remember.

 The band stopped playing and the light condensed into a brilliant globe that lingered for a moment with the touch of Richards fingers against Tonys palm.

 Then it was gone.

 



 

 Do you see that?

 See what? CB asked as the two RCMP constables rejoined them on the path.

 The um . . . Elson gestured with one hand and then stopped, fully aware that no onenot the three guys theyd joined, nor the three people whod just come out of one of the trucks, nor his partner, nor, hell, himselfwas looking at anything other than the brilliant white light rising up from the house. The that.

 Yes, Constable, we see it.

 Okay. Good. What is it?

 If pressed, Id have to say its a shocking absence of originality.

 Something hummed.

 Something sparked.

 And the lights came on.

 



 

 They were standing in the bathroom of the master suite. The light over the sink was on.

 What the hell just happened? Zev demanded. Are you two all right!

 Tony glanced at Brianna who shrugged. Yeah, were fine. And then added, surprised. Really. His left arm no longer hurt. The symbol was still there on his palm, etched into his skin like a scar, but everything worked. Muscles, ligaments, bones, joints, those stringy things that attached stuff. . . tendons, that was it. Everything. No pain. The absence left him a little light-headed.

 Light-headed.

 The light.

 It had to have been the light. Or some kind of freaky coincidence, but Tony preferred to think hed sent Cassie and Stephen and Richard and Tom and Hartley and, hell, even Brenda to a place where good things happened.

 They could hear shouting downstairs.

 We should join the rest of them. Zev gestured with the lantern. Brianna took his other hand and led the way out to the hall.

 As Zev flicked the hall light on, Tony paused.

 He could hear . . .

 You guys go on, Ill be down in a minute.

 I dont think . . .

 Then they all heard: Ashley! Brianna!

 DADDY!

 Zev shook his head as Brianna yanked her hands free and raced for the stairs. I should go with her, so he knows we werent letting her wander around alone.

 Go on. Ill be fine. Tony could see that the other man didnt entirely believe himor more specifically didnt believe him at all but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He watched until Zev disappeared down the stairs then turned and headed the other way.

 Paused at the door to the bathroom, flicked on the light, glanced in. White walls. A scuff on the floor from where the camera had been set up. Not where the noise was coming from. He left the light on.

 At the door to the back stairs, he recognized the sound.

 Er er. Er er.

 When he opened the door, Lucy Lewis was sitting on the lowest step leading to the third floor, the noose around her neck, the end of the ropethe rope hed cut with the ax he couldnt seehanging against the upper bib of her apron.

 He frowned. Thought about it for a moment. You died before Richard did.

 She nodded, toying with the end of her rope.

 The light levels hadnt been the same in all the replays. Theyd always been different at the back stairs. Not as bright. You werent under the control of the thing when you pushed that guy, were you?

 No. Her voice sounded a little better now the pressure on her throat had been relieved. More like the engine on an old truck and less like a working cement mixer. He said he loved me and then he met this girl from town . . .

 Oldest story in the book. You gave the thing the murder/suicide template. Two dead for the price of one.

 She shrugged.

 A glance down the back stairs showed nothing but a patch of kitchen floor. And a black cat. Sohes gone?

 A nod and an adjustment that reminded him of Stephen. Theyd barely been gone for ten minutes and he was missing them already. And theyhad gone into the light with the rest. Of course they had. They hadnt been responsible for what theyd done that last afternoon of their lives and if they were, well, theyd certainly paid. He asked, but Lucy shrugged.

 Not part of my story.

 Yeah. That was helpful. Okay, your storys still. . . uh . . . in progress because . . . ?

 Her hand closed around the dangling rope. I need to make amends.

 You saved my ass. I dont think Id have made it to the basement if you hadnt come in and diverted the pain. And if I hadnt made it to the basement, wed all still be stuck here. Thats amends where I come from.

 Youre not enough.

 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 wasnt sure. She looked perfectly serious. If the ropes 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 Ill 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 didnt seem to be working properly. Or they werent 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 Im walking crooked or the porch is.

 Funny thing, he didnt hit the ground.

 Ive 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 thattoo hard .

 You know, since I busted my butt to keep you from landing chin first in gravel, you think you could lay off the smartass for a minute?

 Seemed fair. Sure.

 What the hell happened here?

 Best to stick to the basics. The doors wouldnt open.

 That doorwas 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.

 Donot tell me I cant handle the truth! Elson snapped.

 Fortunately, he didnt have the energy to laugh for long. Even more fortunate that he didnt 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 didnt. Finally he managed a long, shuddering breath, and said, Icant 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.Someone 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 Henrys 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 wasnt 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 Henrys grip. So youre still here.

 Obviously.

 It must be nearly dawn.

 Nearly. I have forty minutes.

 Tony actually felt his heart lurch. You cant . . .

 Its all right. Ill wrap up in the blackout curtain in my trunk.

 In your trunk?

 Its a big trunk, its lightproof, and once Im in it, it can only be opened from the inside. Ive 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 condos garage?

 Sure.

 Think about it for a moment, Tony. Can you?

 If he didnt . . . Of course I can.

 You look terrible.

 That didnt 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 Henrys body blocked him from the milling crowds out front and he stretched out his left hand toward the house. Caulfields journal slapped against the pattern on his palm.

 Impressive.

 Thanks. He hadnt doubted for a moment hed be able to do it. Had known where the journal was, touched the shape of its power, and had called it to him. It hadnt even hurt. Much. Hed come a long way in a short time from bagels and honey. You need to take charge of this. I dont trust anyone else with it.

 Henrys 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 hadnt been written in yet, so he made it his own. He frowned at Henrys expression, I think!

 The expression changed; quickly enough that Tony knew hed called it close to right. Of course you do. I have to go.

 I know.

 Youre all right?

 Im 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 CBs side. The big man put his hand on Henrys shoulder for a moment, nodded, smiled, and then Henry was gone.

 Henry and CB?

 Tony didnt like the look of that. His hand tightened around the keys.

 Sure Henry came to the set on occasion and maybe hed helped defeat the shadows last spring, but CB was his. CB Productions was his. Not Henrys.

 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 dont date straight boys.

 Right. Theyre taking Everett to the hospital, she said, breaking the chaos swirling around them into chunks. Tina made some calls and shes going with him.

 Good.

 You should maybe think about a trip yourself. You look like crap.

 Maybe later. And thank you.

 Therere cops swarming all over the bodies. They seem to get what happened with Brenda and Hartley, but Toms giving them palpitations. Good thing theres a full body print of him on that window.

 Word.

 Brianna wont let go of Zevs hand, and Masons actually being kind of sweet to Ashley. Although I think hes using her as a distraction, so he doesnt grab a smoke in front of witnesses. Hes a star, you know, got to keep up appearances.

 Mason was still wearing Raymond Darks fangs. Ashley was still wearing Masons jacket.

 Whatever works.

 She snorted. Youre feeling mellow.

 Its not mellow, its exhaustion. You know, that moment of clarity just before you puke?

 And wouldnt that be the perfect end. Speaking of perfect ends, what have you got on your ass? And dont 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?

 Im pretty sure its 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 doesnt. . .

 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 dont 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 wasnt 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 hadnt 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, lets 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 Lees presence was making her self-conscious. No.

 Wait right there. She pointed to a spot about a meter from the back of the ambulance. Therell 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 wasnt kissing Brendas 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.
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