Book of Shadows

CHAPTER Forty-three

Garrett struggled not to show his shock. He drove past the gardener, out the gates and onto the street, his mind going a million miles a minute.
Is this all an act? All of it? They’re all in it, working together?
Waves of paranoia broke over him.
He drove ahead in silence, waiting until he had turned the corner onto another quiet street, before he hit the child lock so that Tanith couldn’t get out, and jerked the Explorer to a halt by the curb. He reached out across the console and grabbed her. She instantly turned into a wild animal, her body writhing as she fought him. He took both her wrists and pinned her against the seat.
“I saw him. The Dragon Man. He works for you.”
“He works for Selena,” she blazed. “Of course he does. What were we going to do, put him back on the street?” She jerked her arms away from him, rubbed her wrists. “He needs a stable environment. He’s healing. He even talks a little now, real sentences.” She stopped, looked at Garrett, read his face. “What—you think this was all a setup? He’s in on everything with us? We’re a coven? A cult?”
Hearing her say it, he felt the same sense of absurdity he’d experienced when Malloy voiced a similar theory. “It makes more sense than anything else you’ve been trying to make me believe.”
She laughed. “Oh, now we’re forcing you. You have a mind, Garrett; you have instincts, you have experience, you have a consciousness. Why don’t you use them? What do you believe?”
“I don’t believe, I know. You lied about not knowing Jason Moncrief. That’s why he consented to the interview.”
“I don’t know him,” she retorted. “He did come into the shop.”
Garrett stared at her. She shrugged, agitated.
“He didn’t buy the books. He bought a wand. Cherrywood, with a quartz crystal at the top. And a censer. Not the Crowley books—I wouldn’t have sold those to him. Those he must have taken.”
Garrett was deeply skeptical. “Why would you hide that?”
She shook her head wearily. “What was I supposed to say, that I know he isn’t the killer because I did meet him? Because I would have known if he were buying any of those things with the intention to kill? Would you have believed me for the slightest second?”
Not a chance, Garrett thought. And I don’t believe you now.
He fixed her with his gaze. “I saw your file.”
“I gathered,” she said shortly. She stared straight ahead through the windshield, struggling with herself. “You heard Selena. People who feel powerless will seek power wherever they can. I have a—talent. I read people. I dream things. I see enough that people will pay for what I can tell them, and there was a time I was desperate enough to take them for all they had.”
She finally looked at him, and for a moment he was unable to look away. “I’m not proud of it,” she said, and her voice was bitter. “It was the first control I’d had in my life and it was addictive. In a way, I was looking for revenge.” She didn’t say revenge for what.
“I played around with darker and darker things. I . . .” She stopped, swallowed. “It did make me crazy for a while. I was going down a completely destructive path. And then Selena found me. She taught me how to use what power I have to help, when I can. I owe her everything.” The look on her face was stark.
Garrett was unnerved to find himself wanting to believe her, on the verge of believing her. And then he remembered.
He took her hand back, this time turning it over and pushing her sleeve up to reveal the old scars: parallel vertical lines on her wrist, the shiny traces of random knife marks and gouges.
She stiffened, but didn’t pull her hand away. Her face was pale and her eyes distant. “Yes, I was trying to cut the demons out of me.”
“There were demons inside you,” he said flatly.
“Yes,” she answered defiantly. “I summoned them. They came. They wait in darkness, watching . . . hoping for an invitation. And time after time, we invite them in. It doesn’t take much, to fall out of the light.”
She is crazy, Garrett thought. But that’s not what he felt. Hadn’t he seen exactly that, on the streets, over and over again? An invitation to the dark, and a swift fall out of the light?
She bit her lip, looked out the passenger window. “So I know what path Jason has taken. And I know he hasn’t gone as far down it as you think he has. He can still be saved.” She hesitated. “You can call it schizophrenia if you want, or drug-related psychosis.” Then she turned to him and looked him full in the eyes. “But what if I looked crazy because seeing demons makes you look crazy?”
Garrett had no way to answer this. But finally he sat back in his seat, turned the key in the engine, and drove.
As they walked through the triple-thick glass doors into Suffolk County jail, Garrett felt Tanith stiffen beside him, the same kind of tensing he was used to seeing in ex-cons who had to cross the threshold. He was none too easy himself with the idea of escorting a wanted fugitive into a maximum security facility. Then he saw her take a breath and her face smoothed out to perfect neutrality.
They stopped at the security check-in at the outer control desk, where Garrett sweated bullets as he presented his badge. The desk officer nodded briefly to Garrett and checked off their names on the approved visitor list without questioning them.
In the visitor processing area, under the gaze of surveillance cameras, one of the corrections officers instructed them to remove their belts, shoes, jackets, cell phones, and keys and place them on the table. Wordlessly, without looking at each other, but with excruciating awareness of each other’s presence, Tanith and Garrett stripped themselves of the objects, emptied their pockets, and stood waiting while the officer examined their property.
Garrett felt there was something odd in the dynamic of the room, but at first couldn’t identify it. Then all at once he realized the C.O.s at the security checkpoint were paying Tanith no attention whatsoever, even as she pulled off her coat, bent to take off her shoes. True, she had changed her clothes at Selena’s house and had dressed more plainly than usual for the visit, in a boxy navy suit that was too large for her without calling undue attention to itself, and her dark profusion of hair was pulled back in a severe knot. But she would have had to have a bag over her head—a body bag—to conceal that she was a spectacularly beautiful woman.
And yet these male officers, who were not as a whole known for their feminist sensitivity, were acting as if she was not even in the room.
Garrett suddenly recalled a similar lack of attention by male patrons of the bar when he’d met Tanith at the inn, several weeks ago. How the hell does she do that? What kind of trick is it? he found himself wondering, and then pushed down the thought. No time for doubts. They had gotten this far.
They stepped through the metal detector, Tanith, then Garrett, and then the C.O. pushed their shoes and coats and equipment through to them to put back on.
The C.O. took them through a steel door and they walked past the officer’s station, a cage in which more unsmiling C.O.s sat before panels of controls, and then down a long hallway with the hollow sound of opening locks echoing against the walls, as a series of barred gates opened before them and slammed shut behind them. At the end of the gauntlet their guide opened a metal door into the visitation room, divided by a scratched and dirty Plexiglas wall, with counters on both sides and phones at each seat.
Garrett and Tanith seated themselves at the counter in front of the wall to wait, in plastic chairs with annoyingly rounded bottoms. Now that they had stopped moving, Garrett felt his pulse elevated, sure that at any moment they were going to be busted and detained. Tanith sat completely still, a pillar of calm; he could not even detect her breathing.
Unable to contain himself, Garrett put his hand on Tanith’s arm, leaned in close to her.
“How do you do it?” he mouthed, against her ear.
She stiffened slightly, said nothing.
“You know what I mean.” His voice was low, urgent. “They don’t see you.”
She was silent, and his fingers tightened on her arm. She didn’t look at him as she spoke; her eyes were fixed straight ahead. “Don’t you know how to blend in? Can’t you make people not notice you? Isn’t it your job?” She paused, and then said flatly, “Isn’t it survival?”
Garrett had worked his share of undercover, and she didn’t have to explain further. “Not like that,” he answered, finally. “I can’t do it like that.”
She turned her head and looked at him. “But you could.”
They both twisted forward as a door on the other side of the wall opened and a guard led Jason into the room. He wore the standard toxic orange jumpsuit and his face was pale and hollow, the pallor of confinement, his features seeming sunk into his face. He was passive in the guard’s grasp.
But his eyes, as he slumped down in the chair, were active and watching, and Garrett caught a glimmer of recognition as he took Tanith in. She reached for the telephone receiver on their side and Jason reached for his own.
The guard stepped away and assumed an “at ease” stance beside the door.
“Hi there, Counselor,” Jason said from behind the wall, in a crawling, insinuating voice. “Long time no see.”
Tanith just looked at him through the barrier for a minute. “If you ever want to get out of here, Jason, you’re going to want to drop that act,” she said, her voice low and level. “We are your absolute last hope.”
Garrett glanced toward the guard at the door. “He doesn’t see,” Tanith said softly. Garrett saw that the guard was standing with open but unfocused eyes; he seemed asleep on his feet.
Jason’s eyes shifted, and he licked his lips. “The Master will take care of me,” he said, and the feral slyness of his voice shot adrenaline through Garrett’s veins. The sound was not quite human.
Tanith looked at the teenager steadily. “That’s a good trick,” she said softly. “I can see that it’s keeping you fairly safe in here. But your ‘Master’ is who dropped you into this shithole to begin with and he will leave your ass hanging out for any and all to use, if you don’t pull yourself together and start thinking.”
Garrett saw Jason flinch, and for a moment his face trembled. Then the sly cunning was back on his face.
“You dare order me, witch?” he hissed, with a sibilance that sounded like more than one voice, many voices.
Tanith’s eyes blazed . . . Garrett felt her tension like electricity beside him. “Be gone,” she commanded.
Jason blinked, and his face trembled again.
“You stupid child,” Tanith said softly. “If you play with Darkness, the Darkness will play with you. You called on this monster and it used you for its pleasure and it will take more pleasure in watching you fry.” Her voice cut like a steel blade. “Do you hear me, Jason Moncrief? Focus yourself now and come out of there, before it’s too late.”
Garrett felt his blood turn to ice . . . as Jason’s eyes went dull and his face seemed to blur, like a wave of bad reception on a television screen. Then his face cleared and he looked human again, but disoriented. He swallowed several times, then rasped, “What do you want?” in a voice as hoarse as if he’d been screaming for days.
Tanith pressed the phone to her cheek, her hand clutching it so tightly her fingers were white, but her eyes never left Jason’s face. “Erin’s dead, do you understand that? You brought her into this and she was ripped to shreds by that abomination you’ve been courting. She was stabbed, mutilated. He cut off her head.”
Garrett stared through the Plexiglas and saw Jason’s mouth working, his eyes shifting back and forth. And then the young man shuddered through his entire body, and the look on his face was suddenly just a boy’s, hollow-eyed and frightened.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” he choked out, and Garrett was startled to see tears in his eyes. “Oh, God . . . Erin.”
Tanith whispered to Garrett, “Talk to him. Now.”
Garrett leaned forward, and spoke in as low a voice as he could manage. “What happened that night?”
Jason swallowed. “I don’t know. We were making out in the car . . . we were tripping, and we had sex, and then I passed out. When I woke up I was alone in the car. I didn’t know where she was . . . I thought maybe she just took a cab home.”
“You didn’t see anyone, hear anyone?”
“We were so out of it—”
“You didn’t go looking for her?”
“I was sick. I . . . I passed out again. I called her when I woke up, but her phone was off.”
Garrett glanced back toward the guard, who was still standing, staring ahead. “Have you ever been to the Pine Street landfill?”
The boy looked confused. “No. Why?”
“Do you know a John McKenna?” Garrett asked him sharply.
“No.”
“Your prints were at his house.”
Jason stared at him.
“A farmhouse in Lincoln?” Garrett demanded.
Jason shook his head. “Lincoln? No way.”
“All over some CDs?” Garrett snapped.
Jason stared at him, bewildered . . . and then something flickered on his face. “Someone took the band CDs. That night we were at Cauldron. I had a couple of Current 333 CDs in the console of my car . . .” He stopped, lifted his hands helplessly. “When I got back to school, they were gone.”
Garrett sat still, thrown. But there was a certain weird logic there that he could almost buy. If McKenna had been watching Erin at the club, if he had followed Jason and Erin out, and pulled Erin out of the car when the teenagers were passed out . . . and he saw the CDs on the console . . . the Choronzon CDs . . .
Wouldn’t he take them?
There was an element of intention, of inevitability, Garrett didn’t want to think about, though.
He shook his head to clear it and asked sharply, “Have you been practicing rituals with anyone else?”
“No,” Jason said loudly. “It was just for the band, you know, and then . . .” His eyes darkened in confusion. “It started to feel . . .” He stopped.
“Feel what?” Tanith said beside Garrett.
Jason’s eyes were bleak. “Bad.”
Tanith leaned forward to Jason. “Then be still and listen. The true killer holds Erin’s spirit trapped. If you want to save your own soul and hers, you will help.”
“How?” the boy whispered.
“You will take me to her tonight.”
Both Garrett and Jason looked around them incredulously, at the wall of Plexiglas, the bars at the windows, the whole weight of the jail around them. Tanith continued, unfazed. “Look at me, Jason Moncrief. Listen.” She fixed her eyes on him, until he met her gaze. “You are Erin’s only hope. You must tell me. What was her favorite place? Someplace she felt safe—somewhere she went often? Someplace you may have gone with her?”
The teenager was distraught. “I don’t know . . . there were so many places . . .”
“Think,” Tanith said sharply.
“Revere Woods,” he answered on command. “There’s a trail-head there that leads to a waterfall, with a pool.”
“Yes,” Tanith said. “I know it.”
“We hiked there . . . to swim.” He swallowed. “She said it made her feel whole.”
“Good,” said Tanith. “Good. I need you to help me now. I need you to be there tonight. When you lie back in your bunk tonight, focus your mind on the waterfall and the pool, and go there. Imagine Erin with you there. Call her to you. You must bring her there, Jason.” Her eyes were black and Jason was fixed on her from behind the glass, his hand clutching the phone as she was, and Garrett saw their reflections melded together in the sheen of the Plexiglas, like twins in a mirror.
“Do you understand?” she whispered.
“Yes . . .” Jason said, just a boy now.
“Then go,” she said. “And pray to whatever goodness you believe there is in the world to save your soul.”
Jason sat, unfocused, behind the blurry Plexiglas wall. Garrett swallowed through a dry mouth, motioned to the C.O., who blinked to life and gestured to the guard behind the inner door, who stepped forward to take Jason away.
The C.O.s on the way out were as unmindful of Tanith as they had been on the way in; it was as if she wasn’t there at all. One even nodded at Garrett without acknowledging Tanith, while she walked in silence at his side.
By the time they got to the parking lot, Garrett was near bursting with impatience and confusion. He slammed his hands on the top of the Explorer. “Are you going to tell me what the hell that was? What the hell do you think you’re going to do?”
“Just as I said,” Tanith said calmly. “I will go to the spot he named and he will bring Erin’s spirit to me. They had sex; he’s bonded to her still.” As she said it Garrett felt an uncomfortable pull between them. She looked quickly away from him. “It’s our best chance of reaching her—our best chance of finding where her killer is keeping her and the others.” She hesitated. “Including Detective Landauer, perhaps.”
Garrett stared at her, incredulous. “What?” She didn’t answer him. “I want to be there,” he said roughly.
Her eyebrows quirked. “Are you sure?”
And for a moment she looked at him, into him, and he knew she saw his greatest fear.
“I’m going to be there.”
She hesitated. “Come to Selena’s tonight, then. Ten o’clock.”