Spectra Files 03 Cthulhu Blues by Douglas Wynne

Author:Douglas Wynne [Douglas Wynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Dark Fantasy, Dark Fiction, Lovecraftian, Occult & Supernatural, Cthulhu Mythos, Cosmic Horror, Old Gods, Journalstone
Goodreads: 36222848
Publisher: Journalstone
Published: 2017-09-14T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“Looks familiar,” Brooks said. “What is it?” He waited for Becca to throw the dirty tennis ball across the yard for Django, then handed the scrap of paper back to her. She had copied the symbol from the back of DuQuette’s office hours card so she wouldn’t be handing his contact info over with it, having decided that she would tell Brooks about him only if she could confirm that the dagger and book provided some viable defense after all.

“It’s called the elder sign. I found it going through my grandmother’s papers at Miskatonic. It’s supposed to provide some defense against the Old Ones. Even in dreams.”

“How?”

“I want to sleep with it under my pillow, see what happens. Or doesn’t.”

“Okay. But I’m still watching over you.”

“Of course.”

“That it? A doodle? Nothing else we can use?”

Becca scratched her arm and ticked her head no, took the ball from Django again. Brooks looked up at the dusky sky. He had shadows under his eyes.

“How is Tom holding up?” Becca asked. “Have you talked to him since Noah’s disappearance?” Brooks had filled Becca in on the broad strokes of his trips to Arizona and Boston. A third child on the list, a girl, had vanished into a puddle in her backyard after her mother heard ethereal music through the kitchen window. The agency’s assumption was that if three children had crossed over within a day, there were likely others that they didn’t know about. They even had their own acronym. COVs: Children of the Voice.

Brooks shrugged. “He looked shell-shocked when we dropped him off at home. Same as he looked five years ago after watching the monsters tear through reality like tissue paper.”

“It’s the Black Pharaoh again,” Becca said. “He’s using music to lure them.”

“You think he has the symphony?”

“Why else would he need them?”

“But why take them across to the other side?” Brooks said. “Can they rupture the membrane by singing over there?”

“I don’t know. As usual, we’re caught in a game we don’t know the rules for.”

Brooks glanced at his watch. “We should turn in early tonight. I’m still jet lagged and I have to leave for New Hampshire at the crack of dawn. I’d like to minimize the impact of the three o’clock vigil.”

“Maybe it’ll be the last time, if this symbol works.”

“I don’t know why it would, but what the fuck do I know? Apparently magic works. I just can’t seem to take that for granted yet unless it’s being used to kill me.”

Becca threw the ball and wiped the dirt-infused dog slime off her hand onto the thigh of her jeans. “Do you really think that family from Arizona are cultists? That they wanted their son to go through?”

“It was that or hand him over to us. What would you do?”

“That’s not an answer. You said Merrit thinks they’re closet cultists. Do you?”

“Maybe. Probably.”

“Do you think they know anything that could help us get Noah back?”

“Ask me again tomorrow night.”

Becca cocked an eyebrow.

“We’ve been working on the father since we got him back to Government Center.

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