shack ensured few came there. Before the boys who’d attacked them, he’d never glimpsed more than a lone hunter here and there, easily evaded.
Of course, fellow members of the cult sometimes visited. But there had been no need to conceal anything in front of them; quite the opposite. Mother had shown him off like a prize. Her little soldier, who was going to help remake the world into something terrible.
As he descended the stairs, the landlady emerged from the parlor. “A man was here looking for you last night.”
“I know. He found me.”
She hovered in the doorway, and he suspected she wanted to ask about the mirrors, but was too polite to bring up the subject herself.
He’d let himself look in the bathroom mirror of the Rath house this morning, just for a moment. Searching for whatever it was Sebastian saw in him, or maybe just hoping it wasn’t quite as bad as he remembered.
It had been. Terrible goat eyes, and shifting tentacles: he was still a monster.
A monster who’d had sex, though.
He left the landlady, her curiosity unsatisfied, and walked to the nearest trolley stop. Someone had left their newspaper behind, and he picked it up. The headlines were naturally concerned with the arrival of Halley’s Comet that night. A diagram showed the positions of sun, earth, and comet, and how they would change from hour to hour until the earth intersected with the trail left behind by the visitor.
Another article, further down, was far more troubling. Police in Oklahoma had rescued a sixteen year old girl from cultists who intended to sacrifice her during the traverse through the comet’s tail to “redeem the sins of the world.”
Thank the trees she’d been saved…but how many others would not be rescued? How many madmen would destroy lives out of either misplaced religious fervor, or in sorcerous rituals fueled by blood and terror?
Would fires dance atop Caprine Hill tonight? Would there be half brothers and sisters born nine months hence? What sort of sacrifices might occur there, in the place that he’d once called home?
The trolley took him to downtown Widdershins, and he walked the remaining few blocks to the police station. The officer on duty behind the desk glanced up disinterestedly. “Can I help you?”
“A man was brought in last night. He and his partner threatened the Rath family. His partner didn’t make it.” Ves kept his voice as level as possible.
He’d never wanted to kill anyone. But in that moment, it had felt right to wrap his tentacles around the man, to do anything to keep him from hurting Sebastian, or little Clara, or the rest.
“Just a minute.” The officer checked a book, presumably one that listed currently incarcerated criminals, then looked up at Vesper. “Bob Underell?”
“I don’t know his name.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re not his lawyer.”
“No. I work with Sebastian Rath at the Ladysmith’s library.” Recalling Sebastian’s advice, he removed two dollars from his wallet and placed it to one side with studied casualness. “I’d like to speak to Mr. Underell for a few moments.”
The dollars vanished with alacrity. “Right this way, then.”
Ves followed the officer to the back of the building, where there were three small cells. Two were unoccupied, but the third held the gunman from the night before.
Underell’s eyes widened when he saw Vesper, and he scrambled to his feet, flattening himself against the wall as far as he could get from the door. “No—don’t let him near me! He’s a monster! He killed Jim!”
“Uh huh,” the officer said. Ves honestly couldn’t tell if he didn’t believe Underell or just didn’t care. “Fascinating story.” He turned to Ves. “He’s in one piece now, and he needs to be when you leave, understand?”
“I have no intention of harming Mr. Underell,” Ves assured him.
The officer nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.
They were alone.
Ves stepped up to the bars. “I’ve come to ask you some questions.”
A thin sheen of sweat coated Underell’s face. “I-I don’t know anything.”
“Of course you do.” Ves wrapped his hands around the iron and narrowed his eyes. “You and your compatriot followed Sebastian Rath from the apartment house where Mr. O’Neil lived. I’m guessing you were also the ones who removed O’Neil’s belongings from his rooms.” He lowered his voice and locked his gaze with Underell. “The ones who killed him.”
“I-I need to talk with my lawyer. I ain’t saying anything—”
“Do you really think I’m here to build a case for the prosecution?” Ves gave him the nastiest smile he