“The Great Beast? Are you talking about the Devil?”
Jameson did smile at that. “I speak of the great sorcerer, Aleister Crowley.”
“Ah. Well, of course you do.” Violet had a passing familiarity with the world’s most notable occultist. She remembered when he’d left the United States to form some utopian community in Italy, only to be kicked out with the change in government. She didn’t know where he was residing these days but apparently the stories about his magical powers weren’t overstated in the least. “So Mr. Crowley is coming to Atlanta?”
“Yes.”
“I only have a few more questions. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“First: why are you being so nice to me? Twenty-four hours ago, one of your men was following me around with the intention of killing me.”
“We were tasked with several duties by The Great Beast. First and foremost, we were to locate The Damned Thing and retrieve it by any means necessary. Secondly, we were to remove anyone who might have had knowledge of it.”
“I still have knowledge of it…”
“Yes. But our latest communication from our Master has asked us to maintain a low profile and not draw attention to ourselves. Thus, we have recalled all of the brethren and are waiting here for his arrival.”
Violet relaxed a bit, feeling a little less threatened. “Okay. Another question, then. Did your brothers kill my husband?”
“Yes.”
“And my partner Miles?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Violet patted her knees with her palms and stood up, her purse held tightly under one arm. “And is The Damned Thing here?”
Jameson hesitated, obviously not sure if he should answer. Violet got the feeling that he was slightly more intelligent than his ‘brothers’ but that they were all basically robots, following orders given to them from above. When something didn’t fall within the parameters of those orders, they either shut down or dealt with the situation to the best of their ability. “Yes, it is,” he finally said at last. He looked puzzled by his own response, as if he couldn’t decide if that had been the proper response.
“I don’t suppose I could see it.”
“I don’t think that would be wise.”
“But it is here, in this house?”
Jameson’s brows knotted together. “Yes.”
Violet nodded and opened her purse. She peered inside, counting the bullets in her gun and in the shell boxes she’d brought with her. Even with the dozen or so men out in the hall, she felt confident she’d brought along all she would need. “Thanks for all the information, Jameson. You’re an idiot but a damned useful one.”
Jameson’s eyes widened somewhat as Violet drew her handgun and fired it. The bullet passed right between his eyes and sent his body slamming back against the wall. Her previous encounter with these Followers had indicated that only a shot to the head would put them down for good and she was prepared to act on that hypothesis until proven wrong. Jameson’s body began undergoing the same decomposition that his ‘brother’ did, his skin drying up and breaking down into its individual spider components.
The other Followers responded to the noise, entering the room in a confused rush. They seemed uncertain about what to do — their orders to protect The Damned Thing warring with their orders to remain under the notice of authorities. Violet was under no such dilemma, however. She opened fire, striking with pinpoint aim. As soon as her gun’s chamber was empty, she reloaded, eventually leaving the sitting room a smoking, stinking mess. Despite the fact that the Followers of the Eclipse left behind no bodies, they did leave behind a distinctly unpleasant odor that reminded Violet of rotting vegetation.
When she was finally done with her grisly work, Violet found herself alone in the room, the blood-splattered walls and the hundreds of tiny spiders scurrying about on the floor the only evidence that the Followers had ever been there. She knew that even in this neighborhood, that much gunfire was going to attract the police. Acting quickly, Violet began a thorough search of the house. She found nothing in the basement below, not even a makeshift lair like the one that The Order had possessed. But on the second floor, in the master bedroom, she hit the jackpot.
It was in a large black case, resting on the floor in front of the bed. Even without seeing inside the case, Violet knew that this was The Damned Thing. There was a sense of incredible unease that radiated from the case and it made Violet’s stomach turn somersaults. Her palms felt clammy and her mouth went dry, but that was not the worst of it.
Worst of all was the voice.
The one which sounded so much like her own that she wondered momentarily if she had spoken out loud. It very clearly came from the box, however, and it was full of warm familiarity.
“Hello, Violet. We are going to have so much fun together.”
WILL McKENZIE WAS in his car when the call came over his radio. Multiple reports of gunfire, and a lot of it, were coming from the same area where Miles Knopf had died. He whipped his car around in a u-turn that left burned tire marks on the road and floored the accelerator. He knew that Violet was involved. That much didn’t require him to be Sherlock Holmes. What he couldn’t figure out was why she kept insisting on going solo on this one. Yes, her husband and partner had both died because of this case… And, yes — if it had been Will’s family involved—his first priority would have been to catch those responsible by any means necessary. Doing it on his own would have been nice but that would be a bonus, not a requirement.
Mixed up in all this was his own feelings for Violet. He wasn’t quite sure what they were. They were good together in bed and he admired the way she showed no fear in fighting for what she believed in… But he also worried that she would never move past the loss of her husband. And this whole affair just seemed to prove that. She was risking not just her life but also her relationship with Will over this. If she kept leaving a trail of bodies throughout Atlanta, he wasn’t going to be able to protect her much longer.
Will was not the first car on the scene. Two police units were already there but McKenzie’s attention was not focused on them as his wheels skidded to a stop. An expensive black car with a chauffeur was driving very slowly past, the men in the back casting baleful glances at the house. Will didn’t recognize the first man he saw but he certainly knew the other: Lazlo Bane. The car continued past, turning the corner. If it had been anybody other than Violet inside the house, he would have taken off in pursuit of that mysterious black vehicle. Bane was bad news and if that was his employer with him, then Will wanted to speak to the both of them.
But it was Violet. And that changed everything.
Stepping from his car, he bolted into the house, drawing surprised looks from his men already inside. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Strangest damned thing I’ve ever seen, Chief,” the man replied. “Neighbors report hearing dozens of shots going off and there’s spent shell casings all over that sitting room. Blood splatters, too… but not a body anywhere around.”
Will remember what Violet had told him about the man she’d killed at The Order’s headquarters. He glanced around, spotting three of four spiders within just a few feet of him. “Any sign of Violet Cambridge?”
“She’s not here, Chief. Did you expect her to be?”
Will turned away without comment. He stepped back onto the porch, looking up and down the street. Where had she gone? Had she managed to find The Damned Thing? And if so, what would she do with it?
WILLIAM “BILL” SINCLAIR lay in his hospital bed, on the brink of death. He had come through his surgery as well as could be expected but the damage had been quite severe and his doctors were all uncertain about his ultimate chances for survival. He had received a steady stream of visitors since being admitted, most of them saying words of prayer and strength for him.