Page 112 of Dead Beat

Stop pretending this won’t sit heavy. His own great-grandfather’s words, spoken in the room of conquest. And what had been Kittscher’s reply? Sacrifice always does. Every generation had offered up a new Daniel Arlington for Black Elm to feed upon, a new acolyte.

Now he could see that Golgarot had been playing a little joke on him in hell, giving him a clue he couldn’t decipher as he’d lifted stone after stone.

“You could come with us,” Darlington said to the cat, not knowing if Cosmo understood.

“He won’t,” said Alex. “We’ve tried to rehome him with Dawes and at Il Bastone. He always finds his way back here.”

And he forever would. For as long as the demon had hold of this place.

“Come on,” Alex said, tugging him outside. “Let’s get out of here.”

A sudden flutter and whoosh from above made him startle. He moved to block Alex, his horns emerging. He’d forgotten about the owls.

“This seems bad,” said Alex, tracking their movements, eyes wide. “What are they doing?”

The birds circled silently, not hooting or screeching. They shouldn’t even be out during the day.

“I don’t know but we’re taking the Mercedes.” He still had the key on his fob.

“Why?”

“Because it’s my car and Linus Reiter can go fuck himself.”

Alex’s brows rose. “If you’re swearing, you must mean it.”

They backed slowly into the garage, the owls continuing in their slow spirals.

Alex looked back as they squealed down the drive. Only when they shot past the pillars and onto the road did she release a long breath. “I thought the house might try to keep us there.”

“It doesn’t have to.” It knows I’ll come back. I always come back.

Had his grandfather sensed the house was consuming him? Had he tried to save his son? He’d sent Darlington’s father to boarding school. Turned him into a pansy, his grandfather had later claimed. But your grandmother insisted. Maybe she’d understood what this house was. Maybe she’d been trying to buy her son a chance at a life that wasn’t bound to a thing that could never love him back. He remembered his own mother sitting on the edge of his bed. You don’t rule this place. It rules you.

Darlington’s father had gotten free, but only after Darlington had been born and his grandfather had insisted he live at Black Elm. He had demanded Danny’s fealty to the house, even as he passed from this world to the next.

Did people who were not Arlingtons understand somehow? Even if they couldn’t name it. Even if they couldn’t explain it. Harper had never let his father visit more than a few days and they always stayed at a hotel, never under Black Elm’s roof. But she hadn’t demanded her son stay with them. She’d left him behind. He had always wondered why his parents found it so easy to walk away from him, but maybe they’d been running.

Disloyal. That was the word his grandfather had used, and it had become Darlington’s as well. He had wanted to bring Alex to Black Elm, to bring her home. Had she been an offering too?

“Damn,” Alex barked. She was looking down at her phone.

“What now?”

“The chimes went off last night. Somewhere near East Rock. Turner is going to check it out before he goes to work.”

“Ask if he wants us there.”

“You know he’ll say no.”

“It’s polite. Let’s keep to the precepts of demon hunting etiquette while we can.”

“He says he’s fine,” she replied.

“That isn’t what he said.”

“No, he said he didn’t need a fucking babysitter. Maybe he doesn’t have the etiquette manual.”

Darlington felt better when the door closed behind them at Il Bastone. The house was quiet. Dawes must be at her apartment, Tripp tucked away in his nest across the street.