Dead Beat (Page 94)

I had to check on Butters and Mouse. I rolled over and picked up my staff, then crawled a couple of feet and got my mother’s pentacle. Then I stood up. My head pounded with a dull, throbbing beat of pain, and I bowed my head forward for a moment, letting cold rain fall onto the lump forming on the back of my skull. The worst of it passed after a minute, and I got the pain under control. I’d taken harder shots to the head than that one had been, and I didn’t have time to coddle myself. I blew out a harsh breath and shambled into the house.

I found it dark, all the candles that had been lit now extinguished. I lifted my mother’s pentacle and ran my will through it, causing it to pulse and then glow with silver-blue light. I lifted the pentacle over my head and surveyed the kitchen.

It was empty. There was no sign of either Mouse or Butters-and no evidence of a struggle, either. My fear subsided a little. If Kumori had found them, there would be signs of violence-blood, scattered furnishings. Butters’s papers were still stacked up neatly on the kitchen table.

Murphy’s house wasn’t a large one, and there were only so many places Butters could be. I limped into the living room and then down the short hall to the bedrooms and the bathroom.

"Butters?" I called softly. "It’s Harry. Mouse?"

There was a sudden rough scratching at the door of the linen closet beside me, and I almost jumped through the ceiling. I swallowed in an effort to force my heart back down into my chest, then opened the closet door.

Butters and Mouse crouched on the floor of the closet. Butters was at the rear, and though Mouse looked cramped, he crouched solidly between Butters and the door. His tail began to thump against the inside of the closet when he saw me, and he wriggled his way clear to come to me.

"Oh, thank God," Butters said. He squirmed out of the closet after Mouse. "Harry. Are you all right?"

"Been worse," I told him. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Um," Butters said, "I saw you out there. And then… there was something inside that ring of barbed wire. And I was… I couldn’t see it very well, but then the wind kicked up and I thought I saw something moving outside and… I yelled and sort of panicked." His face flushed. "Sorry. I was just… much shorter than that thing. I panicked."

He’d rabbited. All in all, probably not a stupid reaction to the presence of an angry lord of Faerie. "Don’t worry about it," I said. "Mouse stayed with you?"

"Yeah," Butters said. "I guess so. He started to try to get outside when that thing in the circle screamed. I was holding him back. I didn’t realize I still had his collar when I, uh…"

Butters’s face turned greenish and he said, "Excuse me." Then he sprinted for the bathroom.

I heard him throwing up inside and frowned down at Mouse.

"You know what?" I told the dog. "I don’t care if Butters had been chock-full of gamma radiation and had green skin and purple pants. There’s no way he could haul you into a closet with him."

Mouse looked up at me and tilted his head to one side, doggy expression enigmatic.

"But that would mean that it was the other way around. That you were the one hauling Butters to a hiding place."

Mouse’s jaw dropped open into a grin.

"But that would mean that you knew you couldn’t handle Kumori, and that she was dangerous to Butters. And you knew that I wanted you to protect him. And that instead of fighting or running away, you formulated a plan to hide him." I frowned. "And dogs aren’t supposed to be that smart."

Mouse snorted out a little sneeze, shook his fuzzy head, and then flopped over onto his back, eyes begging me to scratch his tummy.

"What the hell," I said, and started scratching. "Looks to me like you earned it."

Butters emerged from the bathroom a couple of minutes later. "Sorry," he said. "Nerves. I, uh… Harry, I’m sorry I ran away like that."

"Took cover," I provided. "In the action business, when you don’t want to say you ran like a mouse, you call it ‘taking cover.’ It’s more heroic."

"Right," Butters said, flushing. "I took cover."

"It’s fun, taking cover," I said. "I take cover all the time."

"What happened?" Butters asked.

"I called the Erlking, but someone kept me from keeping him penned up. They came in the house for a minute, and…" I felt my voice trail off. My relief that Butters and Mouse were all right began to fade, as I realized that they had never been what Kumori had been searching for.

"What?" Butters said quietly. "Harry, what is it?"

"Son of a bitch,”” I swore, and my voice was a sulfurous snarl. "How could I be so stupid?"

I whirled and stalked back down the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen, lifting my light.

On the kitchen table there were only empty cups of tea, empty cans, unlit candles, paper, and pens.

In the spot where Bob the skull had sat, there was nothing.

"Oh, man," Butters said quietly at my elbow. "Oh, man. They took him."

"They took him," I spat.

"Why?" Butters whispered. "Why would they do that?"

"Because Bob the skull hasn’t always been mine," I growled. "He used to belong to my old teacher, Justin. And before that he belonged to the necromancer, Kemmler." I whirled in a fury and slammed my fist into Murphy’s refrigerator so hard that it dented the side and split my middle knuckle open.

"I… I don’t get it," Butters said, his voice very quiet.

"Bob did for Kemmler what he did for me. He was a consultant. A research assistant. A sounding board for magical theory," I said. "That’s why Cowl took him."

"Cowl’s doing research?" Butters asked.

"No," I spat. "Cowl knew that Bob used to be Kemmler’s. Somewhere in there, Bob knows everything about the theory that Kemmler did."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Cowl doesn’t need The Word of Kemmler now. He doesn’t need the stupid book to enact the Darkhallow because he’s got the spirit that helped Kemmler write it." I shook my head, bitter regret a metallic taste in my mouth. "And I practically gave it to him."

Chapter Thirty-five

I gave the blood on my torn knuckle a disdainful glance, then snapped, "Get your things and hold on to Mouse. We’re going."

"Going?" Butters asked.

"It isn’t safe for you here now," I said. "They know about this place. I can’t leave you behind."

Butters swallowed. "Where are we going?"