“What is that you’re holding?” she asked.
“I caught one of them,” he replied. “Please stay back.”
“Oh, my God, you really did. This is so creepy. What is that thing on its face?”
“Skin.”
“Ecch. Why are you holding it?”
“It was the only way I could stop it from escaping. Want to touch it? I dare you.”
“You’re not funny, Peter. That thing is dangerous. Please get rid of it.”
The shadow person had shrunk in size, and did not seem the least bit harmful now. That was another illusion, courtesy of the dark world which it inhabited, and he twisted the piece of skin as if to rip it from its face. It screamed and began to corkscrew into the ground.
“You’re hurting it,” Liza said in alarm.
“And your point is?”
“No, Peter. I can’t let you do that. No matter how evil it is.”
He disagreed, but was not going to have an argument over it. He’d shown the shadow person he meant business, and maybe that was all he really needed to do. He released the piece of skin and watched the shadow person float straight up into the night sky. It sailed higher and higher into the night like a lost balloon. Stars shone down, their light passing straight through it.
The threat had passed, and Peter felt himself relax.
A glimmer of light caught his eye. From far above, a tiny object began to fall noiselessly through space. As the object entered the courtyard, Liza let out a shriek.
“Watch out!”
Peter jumped in front of Liza and stuck his hand into the air. The object landed in his palm and he wondered if the flesh would burn off or his fingers might explode. But neither of those things happened. All he felt was a slight stinging sensation.
He brought his hand down and stared. Liza let out a gasp. His own sharp intake of breath was equally loud. Not a meteor or a falling star, but a lady’s art deco Cartier watch. It was the same watch the shadow person in Grand Central had been wearing. Its face was cracked, the hands of time stopped at ten minutes of ten.
“What does it mean?” Liza asked.
Peter wasn’t sure. The world was filled with the Devil’s playthings. If the watch was such an object, it would have a simmering aura around it, which was in fact the Devil’s fingerprints.
The watch had no such aura. It was a perfectly normal timepiece, as far as he could tell. Had the shadow person dropped it during her ascent into space? Or had it purposely fallen from her wrist? There was no way to be certain why it now rested in his hand.
He knew only one thing for certain. He was freezing to death. He grabbed Liza by the arm, and pulled her inside.
PART III: THE LITTLE DEMON
32
Central Park was a lush oasis within the city’s concrete jungle. Here, joggers ran at all times of the day and night, dogs were walked, lovers sought refuge, and horse-drawn carriages clip-clopped on twisting roads designed to slow motorists down.
Milly Adams was a woman of rituals. Each morning, she awoke at the crack of dawn, fixed herself a poached egg over toast, ate it while reading the morning paper, and when she was done, left her apartment and journeyed across the street to a well-worn bench that sat beside one of the park’s most popular footpaths, where she stayed for the next hour or so depending upon the weather and her mood, talking to no one, enjoying the sights.
It was here that Peter found Milly at eight o’clock the next morning. The park was filled with joggers huffing and puffing their way into shape, and Milly was watching them pass by with a keen eye, as if she knew their futures with just a casual glance. Peter asked if he could join her.
“Of course.” Milly patted the spot beside her. “Sit down right here.”
Peter took the spot. Milly had helped raise him, and was the closest thing to a mother that he had. He hated spoiling her morning, but didn’t see that he had any other choice. Holly was out of control, and Milly needed to rein her niece in before Holly ruined his life.
“I need to talk to you about Holly,” he said.
“You sound terribly solemn. Is she still scrying on you?”
“Yes, yes, and yes. I made the mistake of encouraging her yesterday when I discovered a reporter spying on me. Now she keeps texting me every five minutes.”
“But she’s love in with you, and says you have feelings for her.”
“Of course I have feelings for Holly. I also have feelings for you. But that doesn’t make us in love, does it?”
Milly laughed under her breath. “I suppose not. But Holly is young and infatuated. You need to go gently with her. Let her down easy, as they say.”
Milly did not understand the gravity of what was taking place. Holly had held him against his will in her apartment through the use of a spell. She was also using her powers to stalk him, and that didn’t feel like any kind of love he’d experienced before.
“Holly won’t listen to me,” he said in a quiet but firm voice. “I have enough problems in my life right now, and she’s only making them worse. Please talk to her, Milly.”
Milly drew back, clearly alarmed. “I suppose I could call her.”
“I would be forever in your debt.”
“What exactly would you like me to say?”
“Ask her to stop intruding. Order her, if you have to. Just make her do it.”
They fell silent. On the other side of the path, a dozen feisty black crows lined the limb of an oak tree. They were the jackdaw variety, and perched in a militarylike formation. They’d migrated with Milly from the town of Ipswich, Massachusetts, decades ago, and had taken up residence in the park across the street from her apartment. Witches had many unusual powers, including the ability to hold sway over dogs, cats, and birds. The crows were Milly’s pets, and would have done anything their master asked.
“Are you implying that Holly can’t be reasoned with?” Milly asked.
“Holly is out of control. She’s messing with my life, and refuses to stop. I’m afraid if I talk with her, I’ll lose my temper, and ruin whatever’s left of our friendship.”
“So you still care for her.”
“How could I not?”
“But she’s making you miserable.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
“A truer definition of love I’ve never heard.”
Peter gritted his teeth. Milly was letting her feelings for her niece cloud her judgment. It was understandable considering that they were both witches, and that Milly had trained Holly to cast spells, scry, and perform other strange rituals that made up the witch’s playbook. Milly would side with Holly no matter what her niece had done, and he rose from the bench.
“I need to go. Thanks for listening.”
“Ever since you were a child, you’ve run away from your troubles,” Milly said. “It’s a defense mechanism, I suppose. Well, dear Peter, you can’t run away from this. You’ve been in love with Holly since she was a little girl. I saw it one night when you were babysitting for her, after I’d come home from the theater. The way you looked at her told her you were in love. But since she was much younger than you, and you were a proper young gentleman, you did not act on your impulses. Admit it.”
“That was a long time ago,” he said defensively.
“Love never dies.”
Milly was right. He still had strong feelings for Holly. If he hadn’t, he’d have found some nasty way to blow her off. But he couldn’t do that to Holly. He cared about her too much to cause her pain. Maybe Milly was right, maybe he loved Holly more than he realized.
“Yes, I love Holly,” he said, “but I love Liza more. We live together, for Christ’s sake, and she’s my best friend. Why can’t you see that?”
“You love Liza more now,” Milly said. “But that might change. Liza is normal, and you are not. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but relationships with nonpsychics don’t work out, at least none that I’ve ever heard about. Don’t throw away your feelings for Holly just yet.”