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“Frank, that’s unkind!” Soheila scolded. “It’s been a shock to Callie.”
“I’m right here,” I pointed out, tired of people talking about me as though I were an invalid. Maybe I was getting a little tired ofbeingan invalid.
“Yes, you are,” Frank said, beaming at me. “I’m glad to seethat you didn’t abscond to Ireland, too. You’re better off without him, McFay. You’re worth a dozen Liam Doyles.”
“Yes, that’s exactly right,” Soheila said, looking back and forth between Frank and me with curiousity on her face. Getting to her feet, she said, “I can see you’re in good hands, Callie, and I have other houses to visit. It’s a Persian tradition to visit all one’s good friends on the New Year.” She smiled a bit too brightly at Frank, as if she were posing for a picture, and then asked Dory if she’d run over to Diana’s for a few minutes with her. Frank watched her go with a puzzled expression on his face.
“I can never quite figure her out. She runs hot and cold like a broken faucet. Whatisshe?”
“You don’t know?” I asked, surprised that Frank’s intelligence had failed to discern Soheila’s nature.
“No. My bosses think she’s an ancient divinity of sorts, but her exact designation has been carefully veiled. It’s one reason I’m investigating Fairwick. Supernatural beings should be clearly labeled so you know what you’re dealing with. Look at what happens when you’re not. What did Liam turn out to be? A vampire? A werewolf? He always looked a little shaggy to me.”
“An incubus,” I answered, embarrassed, but at least I could distract him from asking more questions about Soheila. Poor Soheila—clearly she thought Frank was interested in me and had graciously stepped aside since she couldn’t have him. I’d have to let her know that there was nothing between us—but I didn’t have to lethimknow that she was a succubus.
“Ooooh, an incubus. That’s rough. No wonder you looked so tired all the time. And his students…ouch! That must smart, knowing he was going after them.”
“If you came here to gloat…”
“No, actually I came here because I came across something in researching Hiram Scudder that I thought you would find interesting. That is, if you’re still interested in averting Nicky’s curse.”
“Of course I am!” I replied angrily, although in truth I’d spared very little thought for Nicky Ballard since the day I’d gone to her house.
“After Hiram Scudder’s wife killed herself he went out west. He changed his name several times and moved around a lot, which is why it’s hard to track him down. But I think I found him in Colorado under the name Stoddard. I’m trying to track him down after he left Colorado.”
“Oh, that’s smart. I’m sure you’ll find something. If anyone can find a way to stop the curse, you can.”
“Does that mean that you’re giving up?” he asked, leaning forward and squinting at me. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
I shrugged. “It’s just that I may have to go away for a while. Maybe go somewhere warm. I may not be cut out for…this climate.” My voice wobbled and I realized to my embarrassment that I was dangerously close to tears.
“Yeah, you do look like you’re freezing to death,” he said.
I looked down and saw that I’d pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands to hide the bruises there.
“Why don’t I make us some hot tea?” he said, getting up. “And we can talk some more about your plans.”
Before I could object he’d gone into the kitchen. I heard the water running and the refrigerator door opening and guessed that Frank was also giving me some time to compose myself. Which would have been great if the front door hadn’t opened at the same time.
“Hello? Professor McFay?” Mara’s voice came haltingly from the foyer.
“In here, Mara,” I called, getting to my feet and hurrying to the front door. I was hoping to head her off at the pass and suggest I was too ill for a visit. She was standing on the front porch, a bouquet of anemic-looking pink carnations cradled in her arms. Instantly I felt guilty for begrudging her visit when she’d gone to the trouble of buying me flowers. Still…if I let her in she might stay for an hour.
I stepped out onto the porch to greet her. “These are lovely, Mara,” I said, and then, taking a big breath of air, “Why, it’s like spring out here! Let’s sit on the glider for a moment before I go back to bed. I’ve been cooped up inside for days.”
I gestured to the porch glider, and Mara sat down right in the middle, placing the flowers to her right and leaving me almost no room. Rather than crowd in with her I leaned against the porch railing. “It’s very considerate of you to visit me, Mara, but I heard you were still in the infirmary. Shouldn’t you be resting?” Mara looked, in truth, pretty awful. She was pale but for two blotches of color in her cheeks, which were the same calamine pink as the carnations she’d brought. She sat on the edge of the glider, tensed against its rocking motion as if afraid she might become seasick.
“I am doing much better,” she said stiffly. “I heard that you were unwell…and that Mr. Doyle had to leave the country suddenly. I thought you must be sad.”
The idea of being pitied—by Mara Marinca of all people—was almost too much for me. A sharp pain twinged behind my right eye. I raised my hand to massage my temple. “That’s sweet of you, Mara, but really I’m quite all right…”
But Mara wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fastened on my wrist, where my sleeve had fallen back from the black bruises Liam had left. She was on her feet, inches from me, her hand on my wrist. I shrank away from her touch but the porch railing cut into my back.
“Did he do this?” she asked, her voice a low hiss, her breath hot and copper-tinged in my face.
“It’s nothing, Mara; it was an accident.”
She shook her head, her eyes still glued to my wrist. One by one she placed her fingertips over the marks Liam had left. The pads of her fingers were damp and strangely spongy and clung to my skin like suction cups. “No,” she said, the tip of her tongue appearing between her crooked yellow teeth. “This was no accident. He was trying to pull you into the Borderlandswith him. And you…” She looked up. Her eyes had turned a strange sulfurous yellow. They looked oddly familiar. “You were ready to go with him. Such devotion! I can still smell it.” She sniffed, and then to my utter horror and disgust her pink leathery tongue darted out of her mouth an impossible distance and licked my wrist.
