Page 119 of When the Sky Breaks

“My Lady, typically . . .” the younger man began, but Sorcha didn’t let him finish.

“Typically we are not dealing with inter-dimensional demons,” she said. “Typically we are not dealing with magic that bleeds the life out of people and beings that can kill with touch. Typically we are not worried about a threat that spans the entire globe. None of this is typical. I appreciate your work. Truly. There’s a problem with barrow-wights near Copenhagen. I trust you’ll all deal with that while we handle this?”

“Absolutely, ma’am,” the older man said immediately. “We’d be honored.”

“It doesn’t look like a cult headquarters,” Sorcha said as we stood half a block down from the gleaming white marble mansion, trying to seem nonchalant.

“I believe that’s the idea,” Ansel replied. “But the patterns on comings and goings are irregular. People either show up and leave looking upset ten minutes later or they don’t come out at all. Plus there’s no activity in the garden—with grounds like those usually you’d have someone outside, at least doing upkeep.”

I gestured at the overgrown lawn. “Which they clearly don’t believe in.”

“If we get closer we may just be able to sense if they’re doing enough occult work in there,” Ansel said, “like we could back in Louisiana.”

“You do that then,” I suggested, “while I stay with our pregnant and magically vulnerable sovereign.”

“You don’t like that we’re investigating this ourselves,” Sorcha muttered.

“I don’t,” I agreed immediately.

“But ethically? You understand why don’t you?” Sorcha asked.

I shrugged. “It’s their job, Sorcha.”

“And protecting humanity from supernatural threats is mine,” she replied.

“And yours, lad, is to keep her safe while she does it,” Ansel said. “So you two go home. I’ll snoop around. And we’ll make our plans tonight. Safe plans. Sane plans.”

“Since when do you do safe and sane?” Sorcha asked.

Ansel didn’t reply as he walked off.

It was well after midnight when Ansel returned. He came back in with all the grace and subtlety of a bull elephant—slamming the parlor door hard in his wake.

I was going over supply lines into Islay, trying to ensure we’d actually be able to run an international organization from the remote island. Sorcha had fallen asleep with her head in my lap hours before, some old volume of occult lore long abandoned on her chest.

“You cannot sit on the sofa like that,” I said immediately when I looked up and saw Ansel streaked with ash and a viscous, brown substance that I didn’t want to try and name.

“Why do you smell bad?” Sorcha mumbled as she woke up, then immediately fumbled for the basin the Steward had left on the floor and was profusely sick.

“And to think that we’d almost hit a one-week record,” I muttered, wiping her face with my handkerchief.

“I’ve so much news for you,” Ansel said.

“Go take a bath,” I snapped.

“But I think we found another—” Ansel tried to continue but I cut him off.

“Go. Take. A bath,” I said. “We’ll stay up if you’re quick.”

“I don’t know who’s behind all this? But it’s bloody terrifying,” Ansel said, now clean, damp, wrapped in a dressing gown.

Sorcha nursed her cup of tea, clearly trying not to fall asleep at the table. It was nearing two in the morning. But this was important. It was progress. If Ansel had actionable insights it might lead to the cults downfall. And without people actively summoning them? There was a chance the portals would fade back into obscurity. And we could all get back to our lives.

“I listened in as best I could—hid out back behind the trash heap,” Ansel said. “People come in for help. Someone in the family’s sick. They’re an artist trying to make it big. Debtor’s prison threatens. We’ve all heard the stories. And same as in New Orleans? They’re offered the sacrifices as a potential solution. But it’s orderly here. Structured. No shady nightclub with people licking blood off their fingers. They all stay there, in that big house. They pay in a stipend.”

“You learned all that hiding in the trash?” Sorcha asked in disbelief.

“I got through the coal shoot and up behind one of the main fireplaces,” Ansel replied.