Ashburn: A (Sub) Urban Fantasy Novel by Michael W. Layne

Author:Michael W. Layne [Layne, Michael W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

I SET THE PACKAGE for Oizys in the car seat with Shadow and headed for Marie’s. As I waited in line with the rest of the Beamers, Audis, and Mercedes at a stoplight, I wondered about the piece of paper with Rose’s name on it. I considered asking Chaz for more information, but if I did, he’d figure out I wasn’t the real John in a heartbeat.

When I pulled up to the curb in front of Marie’s house, her zombie gardeners were still on the clock, pretending to care for her yard as always.

I stepped out of the car, and the clouds darkened overhead, blocking out the sun. Before making my way to the front door, I scanned the yard using my goggles, and things looked a lot different from the way they had before.

The workers showed up as human—no magical energy around them at all—nothing. But their skin was gray, and they looked like what they really were—animated corpses without their ti bon anges, their souls.

The charms and the other objects hanging from the trees glowed with shimmering purple and black magic and were connected with lines of black energy that formed a magical net around the house. Some of the black lines crossed the path leading up to Marie’s front door—trip wires to protect her from unwanted visitors. I must have broken them the first time I’d visited her even though I’d been allowed to pass through without incident.

I took a deep breath and walked through the lines of invisible energy, hoping I’d make it through the house’s defenses again.

The gardener with the dark ebony skin turned to look at me, the same way he had the last time, with lifeless white eyes and a face without expression. Just as before, he didn’t try to stop me before turning back to his work.

Standing in front of Marie’s front door, I wondered why the police hadn’t taped it off, but then I realized the authorities wouldn’t be interested in someone just because they’d left Ashburn. Normal people did that all the time.

I was the only one who cared about that. And Ahriman, of course.

Even though I didn’t expect Marie to be home, I rang the doorbell and knocked before trying the doorknob.

It was locked, but with the slightest push, the deadbolt snapped, and the door swung inward.

I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, then scanned the foyer and the library before moving into the living room. With each step, it felt like someone was watching me. I looked up, but all I saw was the drawing of Marie’s ancestor—the Baron—hanging on the wall above the fireplace mantel. It was a good drawing—so much so that it felt like he was following me with his eyes—a living skeleton keeping track of the living.

I picked up one of the six soul jars on the mantel and brought it closer to my face. Inside was a torn piece of clothing, several strands of hair, a couple of teeth, and a small, roughly shaped figure made of black wax.

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