Even Vampires Get the Blues (Dark Ones #4) - Page 15/22

The ride out to Rosslyn Chapel, where the seer arranged to meet me, wasn't overly long, but it seemed to take a couple of lifetimes. I was nervous, unhappy about having shut out Paen, but determination to see the job through (not to mention a wee touch of pride) kept me from bolting as I paid off the taxi, and looked through the gloom at the old stone building in front of it. Scaffolding along one side indicated that some restoration work was going on. Heeding the seer's instructions, I walked around to the side, where she told me a door would be left unlocked.

I glanced at the sky as I stepped into the building, wishing for approximately the five hundred and seventeenth time that my personal magnetism didn't stop watches. I guessed it to be after seven, which left me roughly five hours until deep night. I'd have time to meet the seer, engage in negotiations, and hopefully run out to pick up the statue from wherever it was being held. If the demon who talked to Paen was right after all, and Owen Race had it... well, I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

"Hello?" My voice was hushed and somewhat hoarse. I stepped into a side aisle of the chapel, goose bumps prickling on my arms as my footsteps echoed eerily on the uncarpeted stone floor. "Anyone here? Mrs. Franklin?"

My voice echoed as well, sending little shivers down my back as I moved toward the main aisle. The chapel was built of a beautiful cream stone, twin rows of tall, intricately carved pillars flanking the dark wooden pews that filled the center part of the chapel. Candelabras with electric candles stood at each pillar, lighting the chapel with a warm golden glow that extended upward, to the high gothic arched ceiling, also elaborately carved with faces, figures, and ornaments. No light shone in through the stained glass windows, but I could see that they would be beautiful in sunlight. I paused for a moment, focusing my thoughts, and allowed the essence of the building to tell me its story.

"Whoa," I said softly, closing myself off from it. "You've got a lot of history."

"It was built in the mid-fifteenth century," a voice said from behind me. I spun around to see a woman slightly older than me, with long, waist-length braids of red that bobbed gently as she walked toward me, pulling off her raincoat before setting it and her purse on the nearest pew. "Founded by Sir William St. Clair, the last St. Clair prince of Orkney. You are Samantha Cosse?"

"Yes, I am. It's a pleasure to meet you." I offered my hand, relieved to find that the seer was made of flesh and blood, not some cold creature of the dark powers. Although I'd never met one before, I'd heard stories of how powerful they were... and how that power could be turned against the person seeking their help.

"We are alone, so you needn't fear we'll be interrupted," she said, waving me into a pew.

"Er... you're sure no one will come in?"

"I'm on the board of the Trust that owns the chapel. It is closed at this time of night, so no one will disturb us," Kelsey said, taking a seat and folding her hands on her lap. She was rather brusque and businesslike, but didn't give off any vibes that set my warning system off, so I sat next to her. "You said you wished to patronize my services. What price are you willing to pay for them?"

I bit my lip. "I suppose money is out?"

She nodded. "My time is valuable. I expect to be paid well for it." She eyed me for a second. "You are part elf. In a normal situation, I would ask you for a score of years."

"A score?" I tried to keep from looking too surprised. "A Diviner who recommended you to me said he only had to give you seven years for your services. Has inflation struck or something?"

She didn't crack a smile, just looked at me with a vaguely impatient expression. "My fee is dependent upon the individual who seeks assistance. As one with elf blood, your life span is greater than a mortal's, thus you would be asked for more in payment. But as you are also a Beloved..." Her voice trailed off as she scrutinized me.

I was suddenly very uncomfortable, feeling no little bit like a butterfly that had been pinned and was being examined with a magnifying glass. Self-preservation in the form of a distraction from the unnerving examination had me asking, "How do you know I'm a Beloved?"

She gave me a dismissive look. "You seek an object of great importance."

"Yes, I do," I said, thinking of Paen's statue. Although I wanted to find Mr. Race's manuscript as well, the statue took precedence in my mind since failure would mean an unspeakable tragedy for Paen's mother.

"The price for my services will be your soul."

"What?" I shrieked, leaping up from the pew. "You want my soul?" Soul, soul, soul, echoed my voice on the high gothic ceiling. "You have got to be kidding! No one gets my soul, OK? No one!"

"You would sacrifice another for yourself?" she asked, raising one finely shaped eyebrow.

"I will not give up my soul," I said firmly, refusing to be drawn into a conversation about whether or not I'd sacrifice myself for Paen's mother. I'd already done it for him, and look where that had gotten me. "There must be something else I have that you want. Something of value."

"I do not make a habit of bartering," she said stiffly, but considered me for a few minutes. "However, in this case, I find you do have another valuable asset, one which I will accept in place of your soul."

"What would that be?" I asked, wary.

"Your immortality."

I almost laughed with relief. I never wanted to be immortal - giving that up would be no trouble now that Paen had made his feelings for me - or lack thereof - quite clear. "It's a deal."

Her lips pursed slightly. "You do not mind becoming mortal again?"

"No, I don't mind. I'm not really a Beloved. Well, I am, but I've kind of been fired from the job. So immortality is not needed or desired. I lived my whole life as a mortal - I don't mind being there again."

She looked like she wanted to ask something, but all she did was pull a pendant from under her blouse and hold it out toward me. A large amber teardrop gleamed in the light, glowing beautiful shades of reddish gold. "Swear to the terms, please. You must consent in order for the bargain to be struck."

I placed my hand on the pendant and swore to give up my immortality in return for the seer's help. A little buzz of electricity went up my arm at the oath, but that was all. There was no big thunderclap, no sound of trumpets from heaven, nothing.

"Is it done?" I asked, rubbing at the faint mark the amber had left on my palm.

"Yes. You sound disappointed. Do you regret the bargain already?"

I looked her in her cold blue eyes. "No. It's just a bit anticlimactic, you know? I don't quite know what I expected would happen, but I guess I felt there should be a little something to mark the event."

She was all business, not even giving me a friendly look or slight smile. "What do you wish to know?"

"Oh... um... what I want to know is who has the black monkey statue known as the Jilin God."

Her fingers stroked the amber amulet as her eyes lost their focus. Part of the reason seers were so respected (not to mention feared) was the fact that many of them tapped into dark powers to achieve their visions. Some had working arrangements with lesser demons; others used conduits like an amulet or reliquary that harnessed a dark power. I gathered by the way Kelsey touched her pendant that the amber stone in it acted as a conduit. "The statue you seek was last in the possession of the being known as Pilar."

"Pilar? Are you sure?"

She gave me a look that was answer enough.

"How bizarre. I had a feeling he wasn't mortal, but he has Paen's statue, too? Hmm. Where is Pilar?"

"He is at present nine miles distant, south-southeast."

Hmm. Nine miles meant he must still be in the greater Edinburgh area. But how did Pilar get both my bird statue and Paen's statue? And why would he want both? One was a valuable antiquity, the other a cheap Taiwanese knockoff. I shook my head, confused. "You said the statue was last in the possession of Pilar. Does that mean he no longer has it?"

"That is correct. It is no longer in his possession, although he was the last person to possess it."

"Which means no one else has it now," I said softly, thinking hard. "I bet he's hidden it away somewhere safe. When I saw the Jilin God, it was entombed, held in darkness, away from all light. Is it still?"

"Yes, it is."

"How can Pilar have hidden it somewhere if it's in a tomb?" I asked.

"The statue is not in what you know as a tomb per se - it is protected while it sleeps through the centuries, kept from sight so as to remain undisturbed."

"Oh." I thought about that. It fit what I saw when scrying - I just interpreted that protected, confined state to be a tomb. But if it wasn't in some sort of a big tomb, then what was it in? "What sort of object is protecting the statue?"

Her eyes snapped back to focus as she dropped the pendant. "You have asked five questions, and received five answers. If you wish more, you will have to pay me again."

"Wait a minute! You never said I only had five questions to ask!"

"And you never asked," she replied, gathering her raincoat and bag. "Do you wish to consult me again?"

I gritted my teeth against the expletive that wanted to burst out. There was no sense in being rude, even though I do think she could have warned me there was a limit to the number of questions I could ask. "No, thank you. I believe I have enough to go on."

"You have my number should you wish to contact me again to answer other questions" - she eyed me like I was a piece of dead fish at the fishmongers - "mortal."

I swore to myself all the way back to town, in between trying to figure out why Pilar wanted both Paen's statue and the bird one. Maybe he was a statue freak?

The lights, music, and chatter from Mila's sex shop spilled out onto the street as I approached my office, relieved to see the lights off upstairs. I had half expected Paen and the others to be lurking around the office waiting for me to return, but I guessed they'd done the sane thing and wrote me off to go have dinner.

So why did that thought depress me?

"I'm hungry, that's all," I said as I unlocked the door to the office and used the light from the hallway to find my desk. I flipped on the desk light. "I hope they're all having a fabulous time without me. Although it might have been nice if someone cared a tiny fraction enough to wonder if I'm all right."

"How about if someone cared enough to turn you over his knee and spank you as you deserve?"