Hollywood Monsters by Dana Fredsti

Author:Dana Fredsti [Fredsti, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan Books

DUSHANE MANSION

1945

“This is amazing,” Dr. Hodel murmured as he wandered through the mansion, admiring the art nouveau furnishings. He touched a hand-carved teak side table. “It’s like a museum.” The real estate agent, a self-effacing man in his thirties, nodded.

“These are the original furnishings.”

“Absolutely magnificent,” Hodel replied.

He was sorely tempted by the property. The price was inarguably a bargain. If only the estate was closer to Los Angeles proper… Beverly Hills, Los Feliz, Hollywood. Even Encino or Burbank, but this was a good forty-five minutes out on the 101, not counting the drive once he left the freeway.

Plus, he’d fallen in love with the Sowden House in Los Feliz. Lloyd Wright’s Mayan revival seemed somehow more dignified than the mishmash of styles presented here.

Still, the price of the DuShane property was tempting, but would it present the sort of appearance he wanted to convey?

Doubtful.

Hodel had already made up his mind, but he still wanted to tour the rest of the estate. Something about its energy appealed to him. Sparked ideas. Gave him confidence that he could do far more to follow his desires than he’d even considered.

* * *

Ned watched the prissy sap wander through his house. Thought about popping out of a mirror or manifesting at the top of a staircase so that the intruder would tumble back down, hopefully breaking his neck along the way.

For no real reason, however, Ned let him reach the top of the stairs unhindered, to meander down the hallway. He stopped in front of one of Ned’s favorite pieces of art—a reproduction of Michelangelo’s David that he’d bought in Florence.

The man sniffed in disdain. “Tacky.”

“Cocksucker,” Ned snarled.

The man paused and looked down the hallway, where Ned stood in front of his old bedroom.

Huh. Can he hear me?

“Can you hear me?”

Cocking his head to one side, the man made his way over to where Ned stood. Reached out a hand, put it right through Ned’s chest and touched the wall behind him.

Hodel. His name is Hodel.

Ned immediately saw into the man’s soul—black, depraved, utterly selfish—and decided not to kill him. He felt a surge of energy from the man’s dark thoughts and knew he could use him.

The guy left and didn’t return. Ned was disappointed, but some of the seemingly random jolts of power he felt over the next few years had the… well, the flavor of Hodel. He decided to push a little harder, make more meat puppets out of the people who came through the doors of his mansion. A few more revenants wouldn’t hurt, either—he liked the idea of an army at his command, even if they were rotting on the hoof.

Ned wasn’t sure, but every now and again, when he tapped into the power of the land, he sensed the presence of Something Else.

Something even nastier than him.

* * *

Having fallen asleep in the middle of the third Witcher episode, I woke up a little before five. Eden had left a pot of coffee ready to brew and a to-go cup in the kitchen.

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