Spectral Evidence
“Like Christmas,” Sami agreed. “or Hallowe’en.”
“Six of one, darlin’. And now...here we are.”
A pause. Sami looked away, tapping two fingers against her lips and cogitating so furiously Dee could almost smell the gray cells burning. Chatwin took advantage of her distraction to run a frankly admiring look up and down Sami’s frame that made Dee long to knock her into the middle of next week, thinking: Eyes front, bitch. I got a cold iron knuckle-duster in one pocket and a shaker full of salt in the other, both with your name written all over ‘em.
But: “Okay,” Sami said out loud, interrupting Dee’s reverie. “Professor Maks is a vampire, been one since 1971, and Ruhel still seems pretty cut up about it—so if they have the Clavicule, why don’t they use it? ‘Cause...”
“‘Cause—they didn’t know they had it,” Dee answered, slowly. “Not until it was already banked. only thing that makes sense.”
“Yeah. They take the cover at face value, then find out they were wrong. But by that time, it’s already inside the vault, with not-Professor Maks guarding it.”
A-Cat frowned. “Just a second of enlightenment here, ladies, for all those who ain’t in the biz...wouldn’t havin’ a vampire squattin’ over your stuff put a kybosh on the Maartensbecks’ whole magic item-loanin’ sideline?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure they could negotiate with him to get him to send things out, considering how dependent on them he’d be,” Sami replied. “Give him extra blood, maybe even donate their own...but they certainly wouldn’t tell him about the Clavicule, because he’d know what they wanted it for.”
“Granted,” Dee agreed. “So—say they did want to get it back out—”
“Arrange a break-in. It’s pretty much the only way.”
Dee frowned. “They must’ve known he’d get out, though.”
A raucous snort, from over Chatwin’s way. “Known? Lady Di, I’ll stake my box they was bettin’ on it.”
They both turned to look at Chatwin, who nodded, almost to herself. Then added, for clarification: “Yeah, just before I told that old boy to put the book down and step back, I recall he was goin’ on about how he didn’t understand why ‘the money people’ hadn’t shown up yet. In fact, I think he kinda thought I was one of those people.”
Dee: “Why’d you want him to step back?”
“Oh, that was so’s none of him’d get on the book when I opened the door t’let the sun in, basically. ‘Cause one way or another, I knew I was gonna need it, later on.”
That smile again. Sami looked anywhere but, while Dee met it straight on, glaring extra-hard: You’re gonna get yours, Chatwin, and sooner than you think. That’s if I got anything to say about it.
Would she, though? This was starting to be the baseline problem, whenever Sami and Chatwin got in close proximity. There was no denying the witch could be useful, in her way, but Christ.
She’s evil, Sami, Dee tried to signal her sister. And you, no matter what happened, ‘fore you had me help you cut those binding tattoos into your skin—you’re not. Don’t matter how much blood you share; you and me must share the same amount, right? And human trumps demon, or should...
But it wasn’t like Sami could hear her, anyways. At least—
(—she didn’t think so.)
Chatwin was leaning forward now, hand raised tentatively, like she actually thought she was going to try and lay it on Sami’s shoulder in mock-sympathy, or some such shit. If she did, Dee thought, it was more than likely she—Dee—would respond to that unbearable provocation by leaning forward herself, and sticking her vamp-killin’ blade so far through the part of Chatwin’s wrist that didn’t connect with Sami’s flesh she might succeed in severing both bones at one chunk.
Luckily for everyone concerned, however, it didn’t prove necessary, after all.
“We need to get to Professor Maks first,” Sami said. “Then hold him, ‘til his relatives show up. After which we can discuss all the people they’ve let him kill so far just to get a chance at turning him back, not to mention whether or not we were supposed to be three of them.”
Dee sighed. “There go the spankin’ new IDs.”
Chatwin laughed at that, heartily. “Oh, Lady Di,” she said, “that’s precious. You should’a heard what they promised me, to get me t’deal myself in.”
No, I shouldn’t, Dee thought.
—
Dee left the magic shit to Sami and Chatwin, just like last time, when they’d ended up using a spell called the SATOR box and a scrap of dead girl’s soul stuffed in an aspirin bottle to bust themselves out of M-vale. Just sat there and listened to them hash out how to use blood from two of old Prof Maartensbeck’s spawn and that goddamn book a whole bunch of people who’d never heard of him had all paid so much for to locate where he was right now, then drag them towards it, like iron filings to some tainted magnet. She was trying to remember everything Jeptha and Moriam had ever told her about vampires, which wasn’t much, aside from don’t get within grabbing range and only thing really works for sure is the head comin’ off, so...
(And here she had a clearish image of Jeptha shrugging, somewhat baffled by his own contradiction. Shooting Moriam a smile as he did and seeing it returned, softly, yet with interest.)
Thinking: They did love each other, once. Just like Sami and me.