Chapter 9 #3
I gave him a disbelieving look, and his smile bloomed. “No current lover up here, then.”
“Hmm,” I said, not believing it for a second. “I take it we’re using your car?”
“Well, it would indeed be faster.” He rose from the seat, picked up the rubbish bag, and lobbed it neatly into the nearby bin.
“It is also a whole lot less inconspicuous.”
“Not for the Ascot Green area. Shall we go?”
“We should.” I slid free from the bench seat and slung my handbag over my shoulder. Atticus, I noted, had already disappeared.
We walked down the jetty side by side, close enough that I was aware of his scent and warmth, but not close enough to touch. Not close enough for hands to brush, though I had the strangest feeling that, just for an instant, he had been tempted.
Or maybe that was just me projecting my own desires onto him.
We reached his car. He opened the door and helped me in, then jumped into the driver’s side and fired her up. The engine made a satisfyingly deep rumble, and I couldn’t help but grin. I did love sports cars, but they just weren’t practical for what I did and where I lived.
As he reversed out, then sped out of the parking area, I retrieved the earwig from the signal blocking container, put it back in my ear and switched it on.
To say René drove at speed was something of an understatement, but I guess if you were a multimillionaire you didn’t have to worry about minor things like speeding fines.
He slowed when we were near the racecourse, then did a right-hand turn into St Ledger Way. “Luke’s apartment is in the building directly ahead. Where’s Ginny?”
“Sitting in a tree in bird form, watching Luke’s apartment.”
And I came Atticus’s comment, am sitting in the corridor doing the same.
You’re what?
It is logical to keep an outside and inside watch, is it not?
Yes, as long as no one sensed what he was. Be careful.
I was not born yesterday.
You weren’t even born in this century. I glanced at René. “Atticus is in the hall, watching Luke’s apartment.”
“He heard or seen anything?”
No came his immediate response. Though there is movement inside.
One or two people?
Can’t say. He paused. I am not even sure it is people.
I repeated that to René, who frowned. “Then we need to enter from both the corridor and the balcony. Let’s find Ginny.”
He parked directly opposite the apartment building and, once we were both out of the car, placed a hand on my spine and guided me lightly across the road and through the park.
Luke’s building was right on the racetrack’s fence line, meaning three of its four sides had glorious views over the course.
Ginny jumped down from her tree and held out her hand. “And you would be the infamous René Jones. Pleasure to meet you.”
“An avid follower of the tabloids, I take it,” he said. Though his expression was polite, it definitely lacked some warmth.
“Only when it comes to interesting people, and you, my good sir, definitely qualify there.” She glanced at me, her dark eyes gleaming with appreciation. “How are we tackling this?”
“You and Atticus—”
“He’s here?” she cut in. “Why?”
“Because he got bored with chasing mice and decided to go after something bigger,” I replied, even as he said, Truth. “As I was saying, when I give the word, you and Atticus will go in through the balcony door—if it’s locked, Atticus will open it—while René and I hit them from the front.”
“Have you seen any movement within the apartment since you’ve been here?” René asked her.
“No.”
I glanced at him. “Which counters Atticus’s assessment there is something inside.”
“I can’t sense magic,” Ginny said, “so it’s possible there’s some sort of shielding spell in place over the windows.”
“Possible.” I glanced at my watch. “You want to contact Betty and give her an update? Then, in ten minutes, fly over to the balcony and get ready to head in.”
She glanced at the time on her phone, then nodded.
René and I continued on. The apartment building, like most upper market ones, had full security in place, but after another wave of his fingers and a spell I couldn’t feel, René had the door open without setting off any alarms. We made our way up to the sixth floor, then down the hall.
Atticus was sitting near the stairs, his tail swishing lightly from side to side.
Any further movement?
None. There is a wrongness in there, though.
“Define wrongness,” René asked quietly. “Because I feel no magic or otherworldly creatures.”
My gaze shot to him. “You can feel otherworldly creatures? As in, demons?”
“I walk in the same shadows as them, remember.” It was lightly said, but there was a seriousness behind his eyes that belied that.
He’d made a similar statement in the mall, but at the time, the demons were visible and hunting us. I hadn’t thought it expanded beyond that.
I glanced at Atticus. “You’d better go join Ginny on the balcony.”
His form dissolved into a faint shadow that slipped down the hall and straight through the outer wall.
A few minutes later, he said, Both here and ready.
I glanced at René. “It’s a go.”
The words were barely out of my mouth when the screaming began.