Forty-seven

I was pulling through Kent when I decided to stop by the apartment on a whim. I wanted to grab the mail, see how things were. I parked on the street on the rare occasion that there was actually a space. Wasn’t much of one, but I could slide the bike in. The huge ass pickup that was taking one and a half space wouldn’t mind. I grabbed Gram, slung her over my shoulder in her normal and natural position, grabbed my saddlebags and helmet and headed into the building

Going into the vestibule was strange. There was a note from the super that said we had a new neighbor, and that she’d been complaining about the noise, could we stop by and check on things. He knew that Katie had been in the hospital, so he wasn’t being weird. At least I didn’t think so until I got to the top of the stairs.

The door to our apartment had a great white cross painted on it. All along the doorjamb there were burned out candles, at least a dozen. Two were actually still burning. What the fuck? I had my keys out and was going to unlock the door when I noticed someone had jammed a key in the lock and broken it off. Damn it. It would take a locksmith to get that out, or I could break the door down. And that was a heavy-duty door. We’d had them replaced last year after I kicked it in looking for Katie before I found out the dragon had kidnapped her.

I must’ve sworn out loud because some mousy gal poked her head out of the apartment across the hall and looked around. So, this was the new neighbor? We’d been neighbor free the entire time I’d known Katie.

“You new here?” I asked, leaning against the wall. I was pissed, but I was learning it’s better not to yell at strangers.

“I’ve been here a few days,” she said. She wasn’t very pretty, with lank, greasy hair and eyes that flitted everywhere but on me when she spoke. Nervous sort.

“Well, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Sarah.” I stepped over to her to shake her hand, but she backed up, pulling the door mostly closed and peeked out the crack.

“The super said that a girl named Katie lived there,” she said, talking louder than was normal for the situation. “I’ve called him several times. There are weird noises coming from inside.”

I looked back at the door. “Did you paint the cross?”

She gave a curt nod.

“And the candles?”

“Protection,” she said, quietly. “I can feel something inside there. It’s hungry. I can feel it through the wall in my bedroom. Like it wants to come and get me.”

Girl was smoking something righteous, that’s all I could figure. I wasn’t comfortable with that thought. I couldn’t bring Jai Li back here if the neighbor was unstable.

“Do you have a cross and all in your bedroom then?”

She grasped the cross around her neck and nodded, this time slowly. “I pray every night and every morning, but sometimes I hear a man calling, or a boy, I can’t tell.”

“A television, maybe?”

She shook her head. “No, not a television. Something evil is hunting him, something he’s hiding from.”

Well, some people thought television was evil. I wasn’t very fond of it.

“So, you’re not Katie?” she asked.

“No, I’m Sarah and I live with Katie.”

“Roommates?” the girl asked, looking at the floor.

I was getting annoyed. “Lovers, actually.”

She winced when I said that. It felt good to say it out loud.

“Yeah we can get a little loud, you know, with all the sex.” She was pissing me off. “Is that what you heard?” Of course, if it was, who was having sex here? I haven’t been here with Katie for a couple of months.

She winced again and shuddered. “Abomination,” she said, quietly this time, not talking to me or anyone else. I knew the words, knew the look. Here was one of those people from my prior life. It had been a while since I’d encountered it. It took me by surprise.

She shut the door and locked it. I heard her throw a dead bolt and put on the chain. Anger and shame rushed up through my abdomen, but I tamped them both down. Now was not the time. The runes on my calf flared to life, and the ones on my scalp remained cold and dormant. I tried to breathe through it, but I kept seeing those people from my past, my da, the churchie people, and all the rest of the close-minded idiots.

I punched the wall.

Felt good, damn it. I still had on my riding gloves, so I didn’t scrape up my knuckles when I went through the cheap paneling. Fortunately there was only about four inches of space before I encountered cinder block, and I was up to my wrist in splinters. I let out my breath and carefully pushed the splinters aside, widening the hole, so I could pull my hand out of the wall. That was awkward, but worked to let the final juice run out of me, leaving me frustrated and a little hurt. Lucky I didn’t break my wrist, or at least a few knuckles.

I went down the stairs and out the door, fuming. Elmer’s Gun and Knife Emporium was still open, and there were a couple of high school age kids inside looking at swords.

I went inside and walked up to the counter. Elmer was an old guy, older than da even—late fifties. He looked like someone’s grandpa: nice as could be, clean shaven, short hair, soft eyes. No one would peg him as a merchant of death. He preferred purveyor of home protection. I guess it depended on your politics. He kept spare keys and such to the apartments above, worked a deal with the super. I didn’t need a key, though. I needed a locksmith, or a crowbar.

“Hey, Elmer,” I called as I crossed the store. He looked over at me and smiled.

“Afternoon, Sarah.” Elmer liked me. He sold a few knives for me on consignment. Pretty pricey stuff for him, after the markup and all, but he had some high-end clientele. Knew the value of a good blade. “What’s up?”

“Crazy neighbor upstairs has painted a cross on our door, burned a couple dozen candles to the stubs all along the floor and wedged a key in the lock.”

“Huh,” he said, stepping back in front of the high schoolers who were debating on pulling a samurai sword from its sheath. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, placing his hand on the wooden and lacquered scabbard. That was a handmade dealio. I’d had a look at it once at Elmer’s insistence. Good folded steel, not anything like I did. Not my style of blade. Nice, though.

The kids shuffled away, more interested in fantasizing about sword battles than ponying up the twelve hundred dollars for that blade.

Once the testosterone machines had gone outside, Elmer put the sword back in the case and nodded his head in my direction. “You driving that fancy motor bike out yonder?”

I glanced out his windows and looked at the Ducati. “Oh, yeah. Sweet ride.”

“She’s a damned fine machine,” he said, smiling.

“You heard anything funny?” I asked. “Upstairs, I mean.”

“Beside miss crazy neighbor, you mean?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She claims to hear things from inside the apartment.”

“One of you girls leave a television on or something?”

My last trip I’d rushed out pretty damned fast, after Megan’s call. But did I have the television on? Maybe the radio? “Probably it,” I said to him. “I’ll call a locksmith and get things under control.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said as I headed to the door. “Oh, I could use a couple more of those Elvish short swords you make. Had a run on them lately. Sold the last three I had.”

Nice, that would be some nice scratch rolling in. “I’ll get some out to you next week.” I promised. “We can settle up on money then, okay?”

He waved, and I pushed back out into the great outdoors, fishing my cell phone out of my jacket.

Television made more sense than crazy neighbor hearing voices in our place. Of course, there was the possibility that she’d heard Gletts. He’d called to me through the mirror once upon a time, and I hadn’t seen him since Julie pulled me out of the Sideways. And the wall between our bedroom and the mirror opposite the room in the neighbor’s place had an old doorway to the Sideways. I’d almost been sucked in once. Maybe that’s what she was sensing.

Oh, crap. The book and the shield were both in the apartment. Would they be part of the problem? I jogged up the stairs to the hallway between our apartments and pulled Gram from her sheath holding her in front of the apartment door.

The sword jerked forward, nearly striking the door. I pulled it back at the last second, stopping the blade from smashing into the metal plate.

Maybe I should get some professional help. Of course, Qindra was probably tired of me calling her all the time. Last time a book had almost killed her. The time before that she’d gotten locked inside the house out in Chumstick battling ghosties. But she was the resident expert on weird shit. I was obligated to call her. Right?

She answered on the first ring with a sigh in her voice. “You never call for pleasure. What can I help you with this time?”

I filled her in on the weirdness.

“You want me to come out and open the apartment?” she asked.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said. “Wouldn’t you rather be on the scene for once when I was going to start something?”

Qindra sighed heavily. “You are a piece of work, Sarah Beauhall.”

I knew I had her.

“I take the shield with me when I leave,” she said, exasperated. “And anything else dangerous we find.”

Yikes, didn’t see that coming. But still, would be good to know what the hell that shield was capable of. “Yeah, okay. Whatever makes sense. Could you hurry?”

“Sarah, you are definitely a magnet for the strange and dangerous. Hang loose, I’ll be right over.”

Now all I had to do was wait. I walked across the street to Frank’s place, a dive watering hole Katie and I drank at sometimes. Mainly served neighborhood regulars. Frank hadn’t worked there in years. His son, Bobby Joe, ran the place and he watered down the drinks for most folks. Not me or Katie, though. I think the old dude had a crush on Katie. It was early, so I got a rum and coke, sat at the bar with a view outside and waited.

Katie was going to be pissed if something bad had gone down in our apartment. You know, something else. Crap …