Halloween is Murder(11)

The valley lights below Mulholland Drive twinkled and sparkled like someone had turned the sky over and shaken out all the stars.

On the radio Peggy Lee was complaining about “That Old Black Magic” as the Ford’s tires screeched around a hairpin curve.

Barry said into the silence stretching between himself and Mike, “Three years ago, when you told me demons drove you to wanting to…”

“Clip myself.”

“Right. You had to know I thought you meant—I didn’t know you meant actual…”

“Demons.”

“Right. I didn’t think you meant supernatural beings.”

“I knew,” Mike agreed.

Barry threw him a disbelieving look, but it was impossible to read Mike’s profile by the dashboard lights. “Didn’t you think you should tell me? I mean, it’s the kind of thing you should probably share.”

“Would you have believed me?”

“No. Of course not. Not then,” admitted Barry. “But it’s been three years, Mike. That’s a long time to hold that kind of secret.”

“I’ve been holding it most of my life.”

“You’ve—” Barry threw him another of those startled glances, but again Mike was just a large, dark shape. As enigmatic, as unknowable as one of those Easter Island statues. “You’re telling me, you’ve known about vampires and demons and whatever else is out there since you were a kid?”

“There’s plenty of information available on the subject.”

Barry made a couple of strangled sounds. He had no idea what to say to any of that.

Mike sounded almost bored as he said, “If I’d told you this morning that I thought we ought to get out of town because there was a good chance one or both of us was going to run into some otherworld trouble this weekend, would you have believed me?”

“Well, no. Probably not.”

“There you have it.”

Barry had to concentrate on another unexpected hairpin turn. When the car straightened out again, he said, “Is that the only reason you asked me to come along with you?”

Mike was silent.

“Is it?” Better to know up front and not waste any more time mooning for what was never going to be. Still, he couldn’t help thinking how it had felt to have Mike’s lips brush his skin. Mike’s strong fingers holding his wrist steady. Barry had known a lot of guys. None of them had kissed his wrist before.

He’d never wanted a guy to kiss his wrist before.

Mike said gruffly, “Why didn’t you come? Neither of those cases were so urgent they couldn’t have been back-burnered till Tuesday.”

“You put my back up,” Barry said. “It felt like an ultimatum. And then it felt like you changed your mind.” He shrugged, though Mike probably couldn’t see him in the darkness either. Or maybe he could. Clearly Mike had talents and gifts Barry had never dreamed of.

“I changed my mind,” Mike said.

Oh.

So that’s what it felt like to have a stake plunge through your heart.

Barry said nothing. Even if he could have spoken around the pain, what was there left to say?

Still, he needed to say something. Show he could take it. The silence was excruciating.

Mike said suddenly in a strained voice that didn’t sound like his own, “I decided if you were coming along to hand me another lecture about the benefits of cold showers and long-distance running, it would be better if you stayed home.”

“I wasn’t gonna do that.”

“No?” Mike sounded wary, uncertain.

“No.”

“I thought that’s what you were getting at when you brought up that first Halloween.”

Right. Back when Barry had thought Mike’s demons were the self-inflicted kind. He swallowed, the sound unexpectedly loud in the confines of the front seat. “No. I wanted to come.”

The silence had a disbelieving quality to it. Then Mike turned to face him, saying roughly, “Then you should have said yes. I wanted you there. I’ve wanted you there for nearly three years. There and everywhere else. But you’ve always been so surefire bent on the power of positive thinking and mind over matter.”

“I know. I know.”

“I’ve been—I was afraid to push it. Afraid—”

“Afraid of what?”

“I’d scare you off.”

Barry flushed hotly with unfamiliar emotion. He felt…shocked. With happiness. Yeah, he was shocked and happy and excited. He had never expected this. Not really. Not to hear it in words. The things he had privately thought, secretly longed for.

His hands clamped tight on the steering wheel. He groaned. “Jesus, Mike. I don’t scare that easy. If we weren’t in such a goddamned hurry, I’d show you just how not scared I am, how much I wanted to hear—” He had to stop himself. If this went any further, no power on earth would keep him from pulling over and showing Mike how he felt. God. The very thought of the things he wanted to do, made him shake.

Mike said at once, “No. We can’t stop. We gotta finish this tonight.” He added bleakly, “Even if it finishes us.”





Chapter Five


Mike had nearly finished briefing Barry on the troubling history of Darragh Avartaugh when the house swung into view. Lights blazed from every window of what appeared to be an Italian villa perched on the windswept clifftop.